Chapter Text
Tim was under the impression that the rightful amount of money to spend on toys was zero. Mr. Wayne seems to have a very different idea on how much is appropriate to waste on a pup who’s done nothing to prove himself worthy. It’s not Tim’s place to question an alpha, but he can’t help but wonder what Mr. Wayne was thinking, buying all of this for him.
The second shopping cart is filling so rapidly that Tim no longer has any chance of keeping track of the total. Even if he got a look at every price tag, there’s far too many numbers now. It only further demonstrates just how far he is from meeting Daddy’s expectations for his education. He’d be so angry with him for messing up simple addition and Tim knows he’d deserve the ire.
He can hardly fathom that it’s all for him. He can’t even imagine having such an abundance of things to play with. Even before Mommy threw all of his toys away, he did not have nearly this much to choose from.
Most of his toys were given to him by clueless adults who didn’t know Mommy and Daddy’s rules. Tim was allowed to keep them, but only long enough for there to be ‘proof’ that Tim likes their generous gifts. Before throwing out the toys, Mommy made sure to take a photo of his room with the pile stacked high. All sorts of stuffies and dollies he yearned to play with but wasn’t permitted. Mommy had muttered something about ‘image’, Tim still doesn’t understand what that meant but he’s sure it was important.
He would have been content to simply be allowed to keep his original teddy bear. He’s so excited at the prospect of having not only a newer, bigger bear, but possibly several other stuffed animals too, only it’s not the same as his teddy.
His teddy, drowned, punished in Tim’s stead.
He looks at the plethora of stuffed animals that Dick and Jason helped him choose and he can’t help but think that he’d trade them all for his teddy. He knows it’s not possible and even so, he needs to be grateful for this opportunity. He is, he’s so grateful, he just also misses his teddy more with every passing moment. He wants to tell his bear all about the store, about all the toys he’s seen, about the nest he wants to make. But now his first friend won’t get to know anything about all of these potentially thrilling developments.
Though he does think that these new stuffies could be good friends too, if that’s allowed.
Even after both omegas chose plushies for his nest, they helped him pick out even more stuffed animals. A whole zoo of snuggly stuffies overflowing in the cart, enough for two generous sized nests. Tim keeps waiting for Mr. Wayne to say that’s enough, that he couldn’t possibly be so greedy. Tim is aware that Mr. Wayne is even wealthier than his own Mommy and Daddy, but even so he can’t imagine spending such an abundance of money simply under the guise of putting Tim in debt.
Tim is standing in the middle of the aisle, thoroughly overwhelmed, when Mr. Wayne approaches him. He nibbles his fingers to keep from trembling too noticeably, wishing that he hadn’t put all the stuffies in the cart, if only so he had something to clutch onto now.
The alpha squats down, smiling at him fondly. Tim can’t help but glance to where the omegas are roaming the aisle, certain that Mr. Wayne means to direct this affection towards his actual sons. Tim doesn’t stop chewing on his fingers even when it becomes clear that there’s no one else Mr. Wayne could be grinning at but him. He doesn’t think this alpha bares his teeth the same way his Daddy does. Mr Wayne slowly moves his hand forward from behind his back, Tim carefully tracking the motion to make sure it’s not going to turn into a slap for being so impertinent.
“I know it’s not your special bear but I thought it could help you to have something to hold,” Mr. Wayne says, opening his hand to reveal a tiny teddy bear. Tim hesitates for a breath before he gingerly takes the offered bear. It’s itty bitty, so much smaller than his own teddy, but this one is on a keychain. It’s just as soft as any of the other plushies he’s picked out, despite being so much littler. “It might be a bit easier to hold onto, and then you can clip it on something for safe keeping if you wanted.”
Oh. Mr. Wayne doesn’t want him dragging around an actual stuffed animal anymore. Tim has to admit that this is much kinder than prohibiting him outright, as a keychain is much easier to both hide and to explain away. Not that either of his parents would allow such childishness, but he could imagine. Either way, Tim shouldn’t have expected to be allowed to drag around more stuffies after he got his teddy so cruelly taken away. The new stuffies must only be about appearances, just like the toys from Mommy and Daddy.
Tim holds the keychain to his chest, rubbing his thumb over the fur, and pulls his other hand out of his mouth. “Thank you, Mr. Wayne,” he says, refusing to let himself mumble around his fingers.
Mr. Wayne shifts, like he’s about to touch him, but instead he stands up straight. “It’s no problem, kiddo.” Tim hopes the tension overtaking his body isn’t too obvious.
When he’s pretty sure that Mr. Wayne isn’t about to retaliate somehow, he risks rubbing the tiny teddy against his cheek. It’s so very fuzzy and he finds himself approving of the texture. It never fails to astound him how easily the Wayne’s find fabrics he enjoys when his Mommy never did succeed in that feat. Not that he would ever tell her that, though. She’d smack him for less.
With the newly acquired teddy keychain, they finish up the stuffed animal aisle. Tim braces himself for the next category of shopping, sure they’re about to go humiliate him with comparing diaper brands. At least if they head towards toiletries that means they have to be finishing the trip up, which would allow him to go back to the Manor and finally go potty. And yet instead, they turn down the next aisle. This one is clearly cantered towards boys in general, nothing screaming too alphan nor omegan, yet he knows his parents would disapprove regardless.
He sticks close to Dick, watching Jason prance down the aisle, intent on showing him all the ‘best and coolest’ toys. The younger omega makes several suggestions and Tim doesn’t know if he’s supposed to follow through or not. He doesn’t want to be rude to Jason but he also doesn’t want to add meaningless expenses to his debt. He can’t allow himself to be overcome by how fun everything looks. He’s used to entertaining himself with a singular stuffie, there’s no reason he needs more than what they already picked out. But Mr Wayne might get angry that Tim is blowing off his son, who has been nothing but kind and generous, more so than he ever needed to be to Tim of all people.
He would have been happy though, with just his special teddy bear if it meant he didn’t have to be in so much debt.
Jason shows no such qualms, stopping in front of a group of shelves filled entirely with Legos. There’s all sorts of sets with various themes and levels of difficulty. Of all the things Jason has pointed out in the aisle, the building blocks admittedly intrigue him the most. The omega grabs a set meant to build a car, holding it up to show Tim, as though to get his approval, Tim agrees that it is cool, but it’s a box on the shelf behind him that catches his eye. When Tim doesn’t take the proffered toy, Jason glances back.
“Hey,” Jason says softly, “I don’t have to choose for you. If there’s one you like then go ahead, it’s all good.” His scent doesn’t change so he doesn’t think he’s lying. He doesn’t even seem disappointed when Tim is so clearly distracted.
Tim clutches the keychain and shuffles forward. He looks over to the omega and he gives him a broad smile, nothing less than encouraging. Though there’s plenty of fun looking sets, there’s one modeling an old fashioned camera that looks so very cool.
It’s not the same sort of camera that Daddy has, but it’s similar enough to remind him of it. Tim wasn’t actually allowed to practice photography, but he was naughty. With this toy though, if he’s allowed to get it then he won’t have to worry about Daddy spanking him for it. That is so long as Daddy doesn’t know he has any toys at all. Tim knows he won’t be able to bring any of these purchases back to Drake Manor so as long as no one tattles on him then he should be relatively safe from further punishment.
Jason beams at him, “That one looks great! I’m sure Dad will let you get it.”
Tim turns towards the alpha in question, finding him smiling indulgently. “Of course. Go ahead, pup.”
Jason must get a whiff of how sweet Tim’s scent grows because he asks, “Timmy, do you like photography?”
He nods before he realizes his mistake. He suddenly wishes he had picked a different box. If they realize that he used to steal Daddy’s camera, the only way he could have been able to practice, they could easily punish him for it.
Tim can’t believe himself, that he actually just gave them potential evidence that he’s a thief. He quickly puts the camera Lego set in its rightful place on the shelf, backing away from the proof of his naughtiness.
Jason furrows his brow, not hesitating to grab the box back off the shelf, “Timbo, Dad just said you can get it. We can put it in the cart, it’s okay.”
Dick speaks up before Tim can find the words to explain, “Jay, don’t pressure him.”
Jason whips towards his brothers, scent flaring with something more akin to protective than angry. “I’m not trying to pressure him! I’m helping,” he insists. “He shouldn’t feel bad or whatever for wanting a toy.” Jason’s face has gone all funny, scrunched up and red, like he’s about to cry or yell.
“I know, Little Wing,” Dick croons, stepping towards his brother. He reaches a hand out and rubs his wrist over the little omega’s throat, right against his scent gland. It’s such an intimate and familial sort of scenting that Tim feels as if he’s intruding just for witnessing it. “I just don’t want Timmy to feel forced into anything.”
Tim thinks that’s an ironic way to put it. He’d never dare say something so rude, but he can’t help but think it.
With both brothers distracted, he toes back towards the carts. He has more than enough toys. He can’t allow himself such immense greediness. It’ll only make it that much harder to go home to an empty bed and a dust-covered toy box.
As soon as he’s near Mr. Wayne takes the opportunity to speak quietly to him, and Tim immediately regrets going towards the alpha. “There are no consequences for anything you pick out,” he tells him. “If you wanted, we could even pick out a real camera. I know there’s a few models in store.”
Tim doesn’t know how much money a camera is worth but he does know that using one without permission leads to enough hits on the bottom with Daddy’s belt to leave him bleeding all over the time-out chair.
He doesn’t even know what to say. He can’t say no to an alpha, let alone an alpha Daddy. But this is far too much. It’s not even too good to be true when there’s no way this could be a sincere offer. He bets the camera costs around the same as all the blankies combined. Maybe even more than that. He could imagine a high quality camera costing more than the sum of both overflowing carts altogether.
That would take more than one lifetime to pay back. Tim could spend the rest of his days attempting to make up the money and it still wouldn't be enough. Mr. Wayne might be crueler than he ever imagined.
“You don’t have to decide now. We have time,” Mr. Wayne assures. “When we’re done looking at the toys we can always stop by the electronics section.” Tim nods, mind already made up. He won’t say anything until he needs to, but he knows he won’t change his decision.
Tim looks over to the omegas, eager to get away from the Legos. He finds them hugging, Jason curling into his big brother with his head fitting perfectly under Dick’s chin. Tim watches Dick gently rock them back and forth, speaking softly enough to the younger omega that he can’t make out the words from where he’s standing. He watches Dick press a kiss to Jason’s head and something heavy wells up inside him. He swallows down the suffocating thing inside him and reminds himself that they’re real littermates. Nestmates really, since they’re a familial bonded pair of omegas.
He looks down at the itty teddy bear in his hand and tells himself that it’s more than enough. It’s more than he had before. More than he could have asked for after his first teddy had to be punished. He only hopes he’ll be allowed to keep it.
After a few more moments of blatant cuddle-scenting, the older boys come back over by the carts. Dick grins at him and Jason seems to be attempting the same easy confidence as his brother. “I’m sorry if I’ve been pressuring you,” he apologizes.
That’s not what Tim wants at all. His stomach acid seems to splash inside him, threatening to drown him inside out. He hopes his teddy didn’t feel this yucky. Jason should never apologise, especially not to the likes of Tim.
“No, ‘m sorry,” Tim says a bit desperately. He’s not sure how it’s his fault but he knows that it is and if Mr. Wayne overhears then he’ll have no choice but to drag him to the bathroom for a proper scolding. Then it’ll take even longer to get back to the Manor and go potty and then he’ll be in way more trouble if he has an accident during his spanking. Few things infuriate Daddy more than if he wets himself over his lap. That almost always leads to one of his special punishments and please, Tim doesn’t want to. He doesn’t, please, please-
Jason shakes his head, looking a bit sad and oh god, “It’s not your fault. I was so excited to be like, y'know a big brother for the first time, that I guess I didn’t think how overwhelming it could be.”
Tim shakes his head so hard that it aggravates his skull, “No, no, it’s okay. ‘M sorry for the trouble, please, I’m sorry.” He’s so focused on apologising that the rest of the baffling statement barely registers— why would Jason be a big brother?
Mr. Wayne steps in and Tim hates himself for so visibly recoiling, “Neither of you are in trouble. Why don’t we just grab the Lego set and move onto another aisle?”
Tim’s tummy doesn’t settle even when Jason grabs the camera box and places it in the cart, nor when they head to the next section. Dick seems to take the lead this go around. Tim has never heard of fidget toys before but apparently the omega has lots of opinions about them. He’s gentle about it, careful not to pressure him the way Jason thinks he had been. Dick shows him all sorts of different toys. Ones that spin, some with magnets in them, even ones that are chewable. He explains how he thinks they could be helpful for him. It’s not as if Tim can disagree so they too get added to the cart.
Even though the prices of these toys are front and center it’s hard to keep track of the math when they’re being thrown in the cart faster than he can think to protest. He’s not sure if it even matters anymore. His debt has already spiralled far out of his control.
The girls aisle is next and Tim expects them to walk right past it but the Wayne’s all file in like it’s a normal occurrence. Jason seems to have caught his second wind and is fluttering from shelf to shelf with visible excitement. It’s all so feminine and omegan that he knows Daddy would hit him for even considering stepping in an area so clearly unbecoming of a Drake. He clutches the keychain, tries reigning in his scent, and follows the Waynes.
The aisle is full of temptations, toys Tim wouldn’t even dare to dream about. He stares at the tiny teddy, knowing that if he looks around he’ll only be tempted to pick out something decidedly not allowed.
That is, until Dick asks, “Baby, would you like to pick out a doll?” Tim looks up, ready to lie, until he glances behind the omega and sees the vast amount of pretty dollies on display. There’s so many and they all look incredibly beautiful. While several of them appear to be plastic and not very comfy to snuggle, others seem to be fabric and look so incredibly huggable.
Now that he’s noticed them, he can’t stop staring. And then he sees the most lovely dollie of all. He gingerly pulls her off the shelf, cradling her in his hands. She has yarn hair that looks so perfect to stroke his fingers through and she has a soft fabric body. When he touches her dress it’s so much nicer than he would have expected.
He wishes he hadn’t noticed.
He wishes he hadn’t seen.
He wishes he hadn’t touched.
Mommy and Daddy threw out his dollie when they heard him singing to it. They’d be absolutely enraged if they found out that he got another one behind their backs. Especially one with such familiar features. Mommy would be outright appalled.
He can just imagine the pain he’d be in after. They never clean him up after a punishment. They say it’s his natural consequence for being such a bad boy. He lies there crying for as long as they let him before he has to drag himself up. So many punishments and he’s still not gotten very good at putting bandaids on his owies. It might have been easier if he didn’t have to reuse them, they lose their stickiness after the first time.
Even if he didn’t have to worry about the debt, there’s no world in which he’d be allowed a doll. Daddy would be livid if he thought he was embracing something so very un-alphan. Tim wouldn’t get away with the toy simply being thrown away this time.
But it’s so soft. He runs his fingers through the delicate yarn and he knows that Mommy’s hair wouldn’t feel the same, but this is the closest he’s ever gotten. It’s the same color, and it’s just as silky as hers looks after she’s just brushed it. She’d never let him touch, saying he’d tarnish her appearance, but he can pretend. Tim is very good at pretending.
The doll doesn’t smell like Mommy either. But he doesn’t think there are any toys around that smell of wine. Even if there were, he’s not sure if Mr. Wayne would allow it. He’s heard alphas are very territorial about that sort of thing, even if that’s a primitive notion.
Dick squats down and Tim barely resists the urge to hide the dollie from his sight. He looks at the older boy and can’t help but wonder if his hair would feel just as nice. There’s no way he’ll be allowed such an intimate sort of scenting, but he can’t stop himself from thinking it.
“That looks like a very nice doll,” Dick coos, scent pumping out to envelop him in another level of reassurance. “Would you like to get it?”
“Not allowed,” Tim mumbles, too distracted stroking a finger over the dollie’s rosy cheek to think better of it. He hopes he doesn’t tarnish the fabric too terribly with his milky stench. He’d hate for another pup to not be able to get it because it reeks too much of Tim. The dollie would get lonely, sitting on the shelf forever and ever.
Dick doesn’t refute this immediately, the way Tim is almost anticipating him to. “Would your parents not let you?” Dick asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer. He is, afterall, the only one to have seen his original teddy bear’s hiding spot back home.
He wishes he had left his teddy there. His teddy might have been lonely but at least it would have been there when Tim went back home.
“Mhm,” he hums, “not allowed.”
Dick reaches forward and strokes his face the same way he did to the doll, rubbing a thumb back and forth over his cheek. His pheromones bloom around him. “Sweetheart, the rules are different now. B isn’t going to be mad at you for wanting a toy.”
Tim knows better than to argue, but maybe he can explain so long as he is quiet enough for the other two Wayne’s to not overhear. “But it’s an omega toy. Daddy says ‘m s’pposed to be an alpha.”
“Your parents can’t decide what dynamic you present as. No one can, it’s always a surprise,” Dick refutes right away, not meanly. “It’s the same with toys, wanting a doll doesn’t mean you’ll present as an omega. You’re more than welcome to get it.”
Dick is wrong, he has to be. Daddy wouldn’t have worked so hard to ingrain alphan traits in him if it was fruitless. Drakes are nothing if not efficient.
Tim doesn’t know how else to explain without it seeming outright disrespectful. He knows he ought to put the dollie back, but he’s not ready to go through the same ordeal as with the Legos a second time. So he gives in, knowing it’s futile to disobey.
He hides the subtly pleased lilt of his pheromones to know he’ll finally have a new dollie, knowing it’ll only lead to future punishment.
They finish up the rest of the toy aisles much more quickly, with nothing else catching Tim or the Waynes’ eyes. Mr. Wayne makes the ultimate decision to head towards the electronics section, ‘just to look’, he says. Tim ignores just how much he has to go potty and follows along.
As they’re walking, they pass by the kids sports section that they missed earlier. He flicks his eyes over, meaning to just take a glance, but then he sees the skateboards.
Tim doesn’t mean to wander off. He really doesn’t. He just wants a quick look, really fast. He’ll be super speedy, like that hero he saw playing on the news once. Few galas have TVs (galas are meant for networking, not playing, Mommy says) but sometimes he gets to watch for a few moments. At one event a TV had been tucked in a far away corner, playing the news. Tim got to see footage of so many superheroes, all the strongest and bravest people fighting on the screen before him. Mommy pulled him away as soon as she realized what he was watching, but he won’t forget how fantastical it was.
He meanders just a bit closer once he sees the real life skateboards on display have superhero designs! He’s never ridden on one before but they look like some of the coolest things ever. Maybe the Waynes have one he could look at. That would be amazing. Even if he couldn’t try, at least he could bear witness. Earlier Jason was talking all about his bike without training wheels, so he knows they definitely approve of some athletic pursuits.
It was by total chance that he saw a skateboard being ridden before. There was an event his parents brought him to and at the end the valet had been late bringing back the car. Tim had stood shivering next to his Mommy while Daddy yelled at one of the workers. There was nothing to do but wait and take it all in. It was not often, after all, that his parents allowed him outside of the Manor. It was late, far past when he would usually go to sleep, so there wasn’t much to see, but even the little bit of the city before him was fascinating in itself.
A few teenagers had gone zooming past on the opposite sidewalk, riding on what he quickly learned were skateboards. The image of them flying past in a blur of colour, the sound of laughing trailing behind, is burned into his brain. His Mommy had muttered about the audacity and carelessness of such pups and told him that Tim had to be better than that.
He knows Mommy would never approve of him even looking at skateboards now. But they’re even cooler up close than he thought. All sorts of designs and themes. Even some Batman ones! He reaches a hand out, just wanting one touch.
He brushes his fingers over the bold painting of Gotham’s skylight decorating on board. In the middle of the deck you can see the distinct outline of Batman and Robin grappling between buildings. Their silhouettes are a stunning contrast to the vibrant colors. He can’t help but think that it would make an epic photo.
He’s running his fingers over the painting when he hears his name being called, “Timmy? Timmy, baby, where’d you go?”
His tummy immediately swells up enough to stifle his lungs, making him begin hiccuping on his breath. God, he really screwed up this time. Maybe the brownie was poisoned because his tummy won’t stop hurting.
He clutches his keychain to his chest, pulling away from the skateboard, knowing he can’t weasel his way out of a punishment now. He won’t get the chance to say goodbye to this teddy bear either, not when Dick is rushing forward, Mr. Wayne and Jason following closely behind.
“Sweetheart,” Dickie gasps, “You can’t just wander off. If there’s something you want to see, tell us and we’ll bring you.”
Tears well up before Dick even finishes scolding him. “‘M sorry,” he blubbers. Apologies aren’t going to fix things, he knows. He just doesn’t know what else to say. There’s only so many words that are allowed when he’s being punished. Daddy takes pleasure in limiting his vocabulary. He hopes Mr. Wayne won’t take away the few words he has left.
The alpha in question comes forward next, brow furrowed and mouth pinched at the edges. Tim already mourns the feeling of being unbruised.
“Timmy,” the alpha begins, and Tim whimpers. “You are not in trouble, but please just ask if you want to look at something.” Tim apologizes again, despite knowing full well that mere words are never enough to make up for his mistakes. Mr. Wayne sighs with the weight of a gavel against a sound block. “What was it you were looking for?”
The only reason to admit it is so they can discipline him accordingly, so he points towards the sports aisle.
“Skateboards?” The alpha questions, and Tim can hardly muffle his sniffles when they’re so persistent.
Dick shows pity on him, despite how mad his dad must be. “Oh, honey, come here. We’re not upset with you, it just scared us.” He hushes him when he apologizes again so Tim knows he lost the right to talking. He’s surprised it took so long.
Dick pulls him into an embrace and even his soothing pheromones do little to calm him now. When Tim does nothing but tremble against him, the omega simply scoops him up. Tim curls into his hold, hiding against his chest. He squeezes the teddy keychain in between their bodies in a vain attempt to protect it. He won’t let this bear be drowned, no matter how much it’ll hurt.
Dick is bouncing him soothingly in his arms when Jason comes up close, cherry pumping out just as heavily as the honey is. “Timmy, hey, it’s okay. You’re not in real trouble,” he whispers, low enough that only his brother and Tim can hear. “I’ve wandered off plenty and the most I’ve had to do is just hold Dad or Dickie’s hand after.” Tim wants to say that it’s different for him. He’s not a Wayne, he doesn’t belong. He doesn’t even get the chance to try before Jason is continuing, “Why don’t we go look at the skateboards? I think that would be fun!”
Tim shrugs, knowing that ultimately it’s not up to him.
He peeks an eye out and Jason gives him an easy grin, showing off the gaps in his mouth where his baby teeth must have fallen out, “I’ll ask Dad!” Tim lifts his head, about to tell him to stop please, but Jason’s already bouncing over to his pack alpha. “Dad! We can go look at the skateboards, right? ‘Cause we’re not in trouble, so we can totally look, right?”
Mr. Wayne sighs at the exact same time Dick does and Tim doesn’t know what precisely Jason said wrong but he has plenty of guesses. He doesn’t allow himself to be any more cowardly, knowing he deserves to see the discipline dealt out no matter how much he wants to hide away. He watches Mr. Wayne’s expression change. His brow smooths over, the wrinkles in his forehead easing so a small smile can instead appear. He doesn’t understand. He’s so incredibly sick and tired of not understanding.
“Of course. You’re right, Jaylad,” Mr. Wayne breathes out. “Let’s head over.”
Just like that, Mr. Wayne and Jason begin once again pushing the carts while Dick carries Tim into the sports aisle. Even though he’s being brought along, somehow he still feels left behind.
It’s so stupid. Tim got himself and both his friends in trouble just to look at something he’ll never be allowed to have. There’s no point in getting a toy he doesn’t know how to use when he knows he won’t have enough time to even learn. He doesn’t know how much time he has left until Mommy and Daddy get back from their trip but surely not enough to learn a whole new skill.
He doesn’t know what came over him, thinking he had the right to walk away from the alpha currently in charge of him, to look at something so improper. Childish and useless and all the things he’s not supposed to be anymore.
Tim lets out a shaky exhale against Dick’s neck, getting a deep breath of love-safety-pack before he decides he ought to be put down. He has no right to be held when he’s the one who put them in this mess. He wriggles a bit and when Dick adjusts his hold, he says, voice half a whine in his worry, “Can I be put down, please?”
Dick hums, immediately lowering him, “Here you go, lovely.” He ruffles his hair but does nothing else to otherwise contain him. Though, remembering Jason’s not-warning, he reaches for Dick’s hand. The omega doesn’t hesitate to intertwine their fingers. Dick gives his hand three squeezes, not painfully, and he doesn’t know what it means but he does it back, just in case. It must have been the right decision because the omega gives him the most dazzling smile in response.
Tim turns his attention back over to the other two. At this point he’s not surprised to see Jason bouncing on his toes, pointing out all the gear he likes best. Tim can’t comprehend how Jason is still not worried. Tim doesn’t know where such fearlessness could come from when the pack alpha remains looming over them. Maybe the little omega doesn’t know any different.
Dick rubs his thumb over the back of his hand and slowly guides him closer to Jason. “Which one caught your eye?” He asks, giving Tim the chance to look once again.
There’s no point in lying, so with the hand clutching the keychain, he points to the Batman and Robin board.
Dick rubs his thumb over the back of his hand. “That one looks really awesome. I bet if you liked it enough to come over here on your own then it must be really important to you. You wouldn't get in trouble for that, puppy.” Tim doesn’t know about that, but he does know that he likes holding Dick’s hand. And he likes the way he’s talking to him so gently. He doesn’t seem about to hurt him, even if he did wander off before. “Have you ever skateboarded before?” Though that doesn’t mean his alpha won’t.
He shakes his head, and he doesn’t get insulted for it.
“Would you like to learn?” Dick asks. He doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of him, nothing mean in the cadence of his voice. Tim would like to. He won’t have the time to master it by any means, but if Dick says he can, maybe he can try. And if he’s meant to be indebted anyway, maybe he can choose this toy as well. So Tim nods, squeezing his hand just a bit tighter. “Are you comfortable if I ask Dad if you can get one?”
Tim wants to say no just on the off chance that any of them are punished for his greediness. As much as he wants the skateboard, it can’t be worth the time-out or spanking or whatever it is the omegas might get. They don’t deserve such immense pain.
He’s trying to find the right words to decline when Jason pipes up, “Ooh! What if we all learn how to skateboard! It can’t be that hard, right? And Dickie, you have such great balance I bet you’ll pick it up right away! Then you can teach me and Timmy.” Jason is practically vibrating in excitement, bouncing up and down on his toes in a way that’s got to be ruining his shoes. His scent flourishes through the aisle, alerting any passing customers of happy omega pup.
His pheromones must be manipulating Tim’s sense of reason because excitement bubbles up at the suggestion. Not only having a skateboard but having two friends to learn with sounds like the sort of thing Tim would dream about, if Mommy didn’t think dreams too were too pupish. “Could we really?” He asks, despite himself.
If it were either of his parents that Tim had wandered away from, he would have been punished already. So the only logical answer must be that Mr. Wayne is waiting until they get home to dish out consequences.
“I’m sure Dad wouldn’t mind,” Dick says. “Here, stand with Jay for a minute while I ask.” He pulls his hand towards Jason and the younger omega takes his spot, intertwining their fingers with a pleased grin. Tim thinks he looks like a cat that’s gotten the cream, smug in a way that’s hard to place, but that’s fitting somehow. Though what Jason has to be pleased about right now, while he’s stuck holding Tim’s hand, he has no idea.
Dick goes over to where Mr. Wayne is standing guard over the shopping carts and he tries to listen in on their conversation but then Jason is speaking up again. “I really hope we can get the skateboards together. If Dad lets us, we might even be able to practice today since it’s barely afternoon.”
Tim shoves down the fluttering hope inside him, knowing it’ll only leave him red-cheeked and heaving if he gets humiliated again. He nods along, not wanting to discourage his friend, even if he knows it’s a futile wish. He rubs the tiny teddy bear against his cheek soothingly, letting the soft fur act as a pseudo-scenting. Between that and Jason rocking their hands back and forth in time with his bouncing he finds his chest not aching too terribly.
Jason keeps up his excited jabbering, successfully distracting him until Dick and Mr. Wayne walk over. “So, pups, you three may each pick out a skateboard so long as we also grab the necessary safety equipment.” The alpha lifts a hand and gestures to the array of elbow and knee pads, in all sorts of sizes and colors.
“Yes! Thank you!” Jason exclaims, letting go of Tim’s hand and bounding over to his dad. Tim winces, fearing the man’s reaction to such brazen excitement. Though, when Jason hops up into Mr. Wayne’s personal space, he doesn’t shove him away. He catches Jason easily, embracing him the same way Dick likes to hold Tim. Jason blatantly and purposefully nuzzles into the alpha’s chest in a way that makes Tim’s eyes well up. He’s hyperaware of Mr. Wayne’s every twitch, watching both hands, ensuring Jason doesn't unwittingly earn a special punishment with his overabundance of affection.
Mr. Wayne has one hand under Jason’s bottom and the other wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t appear to be squeezing too tightly but if Jason has preexisting bruises from spending the night in his bed then he knows even the slightest touch becomes torturous. He watches closely but Mr. Wayne’s hands don’t appear to slip under Jason’s clothes.
He doesn’t linger. Mr. Wayne presses a kiss to the top of Jason’s head and then places him back on his feet. That’s it. No punishment. Tim doesn’t get to stay lost in his wariness because Jason skips back over, asking him which skateboard he’s gonna pick.
Tim ends up with the first one that caught his attention while Jason picks out a Wonder Woman themed board and Dick chooses a Superman one. There’s matching helmets of each corresponding superhero, so that makes it an easy decision.
When it comes to the safety pads, Jason tries to argue he’s big enough he doesn’t need them. Dick quickly steps in before their dad can, showing him that they can all wear matching red ones. Jason concedes without further protest, to Tim’s immense relief.
By the time they get everything into the cart it’s so full that he’s not sure how they’re going to add toiletries to the haul.
Tim had forgotten all about the camera until Mr. Wayne mentions that the technology section happens to be near the hygiene aisles.
When they head over Tim is taken aback by the amount of people milling around, all looking at various electronics. With his keychain held to his chest, he huddles close to the omegas. Jason’s babbling on about how thrilled he is to learn skateboarding together and Tim wants to meet his excitement head on, it’s just so hard when there’s practically a crowd around them. So many witnesses ready to see him inevitably embarrass himself.
They find the camera section right away, and none of them look like Daddy’s camera. They’re far too colorful, far too infantile for a Drake. Pastel blues and baby pinks and light yellows, all the sorts of colors Daddy would disapprove of. Surely Mr. Wayne can’t intend to purchase one.
It’s not until he begins reading the camera boxes that he finally understands. Tim had mistakenly thought that Mr. Wayne had been referring to a digital camera earlier, like the sort that Daddy has. But the only options on this rack are various Polaroid cameras. Tim knows what a Polaroid is.
He regrets the brownie now more than ever. His tummy is turning inside out at the realization of what his punishment is. If this is how Mr Wayne punishes Dick and Jason then it’s no wonder why they’re so well behaved.
One of Daddy’s friends has a Polaroid camera. It’s only for when he’s been very very bad. Mommy doesn’t like when Daddy’s friends take pictures during punishment, even if they print out immediately instead of being saved to the camera itself. She’s never outright explained but Tim knows it’s because of how unsightly he is in the photos. He was always crying, always bruised. So unworthy of the Drake name.
Tim never should have let his guard down. Of course this was all one big ploy to punish him. It’s cruel to ask Tim to pick out his own implement for punishment, knowing it’ll hurt so much more because of that illusion of choice. It must be the most effective method Mr. Wayne has.
It might not be a spoon or a belt but it hurts just as much to get those awful pictures taken, just to be punished again for ‘messing up the photo’ with all his crying. It’s a cycle that only ends when Daddy’s friends tire or when Mommy tells them to quit it already, saying it’s much too loud to concentrate.
Tim doesn’t want to. Someone asks him what color camera he wants and he doesn’t- he doesn’t want any. Not blue or pink or yellow. None of them, please. Why can’t Mr. Wayne choose when he’s the one punishing him?
He points to one at random, uncaring of how pretty the means of his discipline is. He backs up until he bumps into the cart, flinching at the clatter it makes. He puts the keychain into the cart, knowing that too must be a transgression. He was foolish to believe he could actually make use of any of these toys when he’s done nothing deserving of such kindness. The writing was on the wall and apparently Tim has been illiterate this entire time.
Tim told himself he’d be brave and he doesn’t feel it. He won’t let this new teddy be punished and yet it hardly feels courageous. It’s hard to feel anything at all past his convulsing lungs and his aching belly.
He shoves two fingers in his mouth and bites down as hard as he can bear. It hardly matters how babyish he looks when it’ll all end up the same anyway. With the cards on the table there’s no reason for Tim to act as any bigger than he is.
Perhaps the worst part is, he doesn’t even know if he’ll be allowed to go potty before he is punished.
The looming spectre of punishment is edging closer and closer, and Tim’s transgressions have only gotten greater. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to make up for all of these faults. He doesn’t think there’s a punishment great enough to wipe the slate clean.
He wishes, more than anything, to be tucked away safely in his closet at home. Or even under the bed, somewhere no one can touch him. In that dark small space, where nobody can see or hurt him at all. He’s so tired of being lonely but he thinks this could be worse. He doesn’t know how to make it all stop.