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She was perfect, the little puppy who was hiding her face in Jason's chest. He didn’t think he had ever purred so much in his life, but he couldn’t seem to stop since she had been handed to him. The social worker was talking, and the part of his brain that had been trained to absorb necessary information was filing the facts away–something about neglect and domestic abuse and a diet she would need to be on–but for the most part, he was fixated on his baby. She smelled like milk and sunshine and jasmine. Perfect.
“How old?” he breathed, eyes dilated and fixed on her round cheek squished up under his pec like that was the safest place she could be.
“Four months. Just figured out how to roll over,” the beta smiled politely. Jason could tell that she was a little scared of him; after all, it wasn’t often that someone met an omega of his stature, let alone one that was covered in scar tissue. “Do you know how to—“
“I have younger brothers," Jason interrupted, letting his pup’s fingers curl around one of his own thick digits. Her fingers couldn’t even close all the way around it. God.
What he said wasn’t entirely proof of his competence with infants. After all, the only one he’d even seen as a pup was Damian, and that was mostly a haze of green and fear and anger. But he’d babysat a couple of times for his neighbors when he was a pup, just to help make money in a less dangerous way. His dad had told him that that wasn’t an alpha’s job and he’d been made to stop, but he still remembered what to do.
The social worker nodded. “Of course. Do you have everything you need for her?”
“Yeah. My sister helped me pick out a car seat and all that. Can I take her home now?”
She sighed and handed over his daughter’s paperwork, the last of which he had filled out the previous week. He double checked her birth certificate—Olivia Neumann, 6lbs 8oz—and then left with her clinging to his sweater. The last name change would go through Tuesday, boosted by Bruce’s money, and then Olivia Todd would be his. Jason’s puppy. She’d take on the forget-me-not of his scent soon enough once he started nursing her, and likely would lose that sunshine-jasmine perfume. Jason would miss it a little, but it was the leftovers of her biological parents’ scents, and that made it a little easier to let it go.
Alfred was waiting outside to pick him up, leaned against one of the family's more discreet cars and watching everything around them as Jason carried the new pack member over.
“She’s lovely, Master Jason,” the old beta told him. He didn’t try to scent either of them yet, not until Jason’s instincts were settled properly and their pack bond was secure.
“Yeah,” he breathed, lifting Olivia higher so he could kiss her forehead and let her pseudo-nurse on his scent gland. The feeling was like pure bliss, and he purred louder, eyes slipping shut and arms tightening around her protectively. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”
Alfred nodded, smelling of pride. He opened the door so Jason could climb in and put Olivia in her carseat. He didn’t want to let go of her, but he’d spent far too much time reading about all the ways a pup could get hurt, so he buckled her in. His baby whined when he put her down, eyes opening to look for the safe, warm scent source she’d been cradled by just a second ago.
“I’m right here, sweetheart,” he whispered as the car began to move, “It’s okay, my puppy. I got you.”
He let her grab onto his fingers while they drove, whispering to her and letting her gum at them with little curious coos. She was surprisingly mild-mannered, and absolutely delighted by the attention of her new dam. Alfred gave him a warm smile in the rearview mirror.
Bruce was pacing on the porch when they arrived, anxious to meet his first grandchild and help Jason finish his nesting. The pack omega had been half-panicked for the past year or so, ever since his child who he’d thought had presented alpha after the pit, had suddenly dropped into a painful presentation heat. Damian had been hoarded in the nest, much to his chagrin, scented over and over in an attempt to soothe frayed nerves, but he wasn’t a pup anymore. Sure, he had been Jason’s pup in the League, but he presented the year before and little alphas did not like to be babied by their older brothers. It had fallen to Bruce to get Jason nested for his heat, make sure he ate, reassure the alphas and betas in the house that their brother would be alright.
And then Jason had gotten broody. He would try to keep Damian home from school, was scenting and grooming his younger siblings constantly, had insisted on multiple occasions that everybody needed to check in constantly on patrol. It had gotten to the point that he needed to have somebody with him whenever he went out, or else he’d start trying to gather up all the street kids and nest them.
“B,” Jason said when he got out of the car with Olivia suckling happily on his scent gland. It made Bruce’s chest hurt a little, because Jason and Dick used to do the same thing whenever they got scared on patrol. His neck had felt raw the first time Dick inhaled scarecrow toxin. “What’s up?”
Bruce was trying very hard not to cry. He hadn’t seen Jason so relaxed in years. “Oh, I just wanted to greet you when you got home. How is she?”
“Perfect,”Jason repeated for what felt like the four-hundredth time that day. “I love her so much.”
“I can tell,” his dam replied, wanting to scent him but knowing that he had snapped the first time people got too close to any of his pups. “The others are upstairs. They want to make her feel welcome, so they’re busy picking out some of their things to put in your nest.”
Jason smiled shyly, cheeks pinking and scent dipping towards pleased old-book scent. “They don’t have to do that,” he mumbled, tilting his head when Olivia whined and burrowed closer. “None of you need to do any of this. I can take care of her myself.”
“You don’t have to,” Bruce assured, stepping aside so Jason could go into the house without getting any scents on his baby. He let his son have a sling to tie her to his chest so he could go up the stairs without needing to worry about dropping her. He took it gratefully, taking the stairs slowly and listening to the sounds of his siblings running around.
Dick nearly barreled into him when they passed each other and Jason snapped at him, teeth baring and a growl pulling from his chest. His big brother raised his hands, eyes wide, and backed away. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Little Wing. Didn’t see you.” He was smart enough to keep his eyes off of the pup in his brother’s arms, looking firmly at his chin. “I was just putting a sweatshirt in your room.” He held up a lump of blue fabric as proof and Jason walked past him to his destination, arms wrapped fully around his little darling, shielding her from the world.
The lights in Jason’s nesting room were off, with a string of fairy lights along the tops of the walls casting soft light on the nest that took up the floor. It was piled high with blankets and pillows and his family’s most heavily scented belongings. Zitka was lying in the nest, wrapped in one of Tim’s sweatshirts–Jason had made a rule that nothing with zippers could go in his nest, lest they scratch up his baby’s skin–and a soft sweater, courtesy of Damian. Duke had donated a t-shirt, and Cass a blanket. Bruce and Alfred had each given him a nest pillow.
He put Olivia down in the center, where he’d packed heating pads into the bottom, and laid down beside her. He laid his head on one bicep, gazing at her as she nuzzled against his hand. He didn’t get all the hype about alphas. Who needed them when they could have a puppy as precious as his?