Chapter Text
Gotham is a bizarre but wondrous city. In the past fifteen years, it has grown far beyond the imaginings of its majority Alpha and Beta socialites and remains a thriving city. In the day, it is immersed with the sights, the smells, the laughter, and everyday motions of city life. There are men and women in business suits walking fast paced, crossing the busy streets heading to their blue collar jobs with coffee in hand. And the city park is lively with blooming trees, shedding their colorful leaves for fall which the shoes of laughing children stomp on; fascinated by the crunchy sounds they produce.
But at night, it becomes a much darker place. At night it is seized by screams, gunshots, sinister laughter, and any other sounds brought on by the wrongdoings occurring in Gotham’s eeriest alleys.Traveling away from the busy metropolitan area of Gotham City, one finds themselves underground where spewing sewers and burping drains account for most of the surrounding noise and the stench. There, the streets are dirty and quiet at night unless they’re playing host to a few knife fights. But beyond that, Gotham by night isn’t a city that belongs solely to the criminal behaviors. It also belongs to the Batman.
Stalking the night for almost twenty years, there are still debates and whispers among Gothamites whether the Batman is human or a true creature of the night. Countless legends have been recited of his existence along with false testimonies from street thugs who swear they know who the real man behind the cowl is. Most are only looking for nothing but a few fifteen minutes of fame. The criminals of Gotham dread him and its people are rapt by him. It’s the perfect balance of opinion and conversation Bruce Wayne sought to cause when he first put on the suit.
Nelson Mandela once said, “When a man is denied the right to live the life he believes in he has no choice but to become an outlaw.” Mandela was imprisoned for twenty seven years being denied the right to live life as he believes in during South Africa’s apartheid fiasco, but what was Bruce Wayne’s excuse for imprisoning himself in Gotham city? Why did he subject himself to fighting off a different and more vulgar horror show night after night as his body and mind took beatings as well? It was an unhealthy way of living life but he doesn't want it any other way.
Life, the way Bruce Wayne believed in, was denied to him that fateful night of his parents’ murders and hasn’t shown any sign of catching up with Bruce for old time’s sake. Likewise, Bruce has yet to show any signs of accepting the invitation. He heard its calls once upon a time when he still had Dick Grayson and Jason Todd at his side.
Adopting and raising Dick Grayson after the young boy had lost his parents in a brutal murder resulted in some of Bruce’s happiest memories. Grayson trying on his too big for his little head cowl, Grayson pretending to drive the batmobile, and for some reason having giggle fits over Batman’s voice modulator. Memories as such never failed to put a smile on Bruce’s often weary and frowning face. The older man made sure Grayson grew up in an environment that invited life and the pursuit of happiness.
Bruce didn’t want Grayson to have grown up lonely and vengeful as himself. And for the most part, Bruce did a good job but unfortunately like most of the people he loves, his brash and harsh methods pushed Dick out of his life. Bruce believes it’s probably for the best. As with Jason, he could never forgive himself for letting a child die in his arms. Never. That wound is still fresh.
Thus, after falling out with Grayson and losing Jason to the Joker, Bruce did more than just turn his back to life. He absolutely seethed at the thought of it now. Having and then losing was not something he was willing to ever risk again. He loses too much. He’s grown as tired of that as much as he has of Gotham’s scum.
Gotham by night is like a rotting fruit; molded, pungent, and seeping. Oozing with the corruption of any innocence it presumed it had in the day time. And yet over the years, it is that that makes Bruce feel most at peace. Scrutinizing the darkness he knows so well when running above rooftops chasing after his prey has become almost therapeutic to him.
Alfred often delivered reoccurring lectures to Bruce about how the billionaire should let the life of vigilantism go in exchange for a career less criminal. He wants Bruce to maybe start a family as well. Lately, Alfred has gotten into the habit of trying to set him up on dates. When those weren’t so successful with Bruce, Alfred moved on to accepting dinner ball invitations for Bruce without his consent. He even went behind Bruce’s back to accept the ones Bruce had refused to attend beforehand. For the most part, Bruce couldn’t skip those as it became almost mandatory that Gotham’s richest attend them. One-nill Alfred on that front.
Bruce knows very well he can have this better life Alfred is pushing on him. But Bruce has little, if not, no desire to settle into the light when the darkness has become so much more fostering. Someone to fight and even break at night happily suffices his darker, wearier, and impatient psyche. So long as he was doing some good, he was content with his own often harsh actions. And tonight, Gotham city didn’t disappoint on that front.
A series of sex trafficking crimes Batman has been investigating saw one of its biggest busts tonight here in Gotham’s underground slums. Among the victims were Omegas as young as fifteen forced into sex slavery as they would be auctioned off to any interested wealthy and sleazy Alphas. Batman infiltrated the ring and pounded the living daylights out of the Alpha organizers, leaving their broken bodies out in the open street for the GCPD to find. Batman made sure to leave marks on them that would make them remember this night. The now free Omegas had been so terrified of his presence however and refused to leave their confines until ambulances and policemen arrived. But they were taken care of and that’s all that mattered to Bruce.
With their unique physiological design which allowed them to be mated by any sex and how rare they've now become, Omegas were being forced into sex slavery, unfortunately, at an alarming rate. This growing epidemic in turn, discouraged a lot of them from wanting to be mated and claimed out of fear of becoming mere slaves to their Alpha mates. There are stories of certain Omegas who could form bonds before they were mated through a phenomenon called, preliminary bonding. It's similar to finding a love "at first sight." Due to the superstitious nature of the phenomenon, Bruce dismisses it and doesn't believe such a bond exists. He certainly wishes it did. That way, not just any Alpha sleaze could pounce on an Omega in heat and claim them simply by mating with them first. Such a bond would allow for an Omega to have a biological say in whom they'd wanted to be mated by and would pair them up with the Alpha meant for them making the bond mutual. Mutual bonds were becoming very rare between Alphas and Omegas as of late if the big sex slavery ring infiltrated tonight was any proof of it.
An Alpha himself, Batman, made sure to avoid this strong uncontrollable biological attraction to Omegas that had some Alphas acting like animals around them. And in turn, treating Omegas as their pets; dehumanizing them. The rut suppressant pills he took ahead of tonight’s mission are abundant and always available. Especially when not too many Alphas chose to take them. Why would they when they can instead bathe in the joy of finding an unmated Omega to spend the week with?
Bruce always took the pills and therefore has yet to have been tempted by the scent of an Omega in heat. He was still drawn to their scent even while they weren't in heat but the temptation was never strong. It was controlled just as Bruce prefers it. He’s dreamt of mating but that’s about how as far as his desires went. So, tonight marked the end of one grueling detective task and beat down for the old man and more to come. Bruce couldn’t seem to know how to turn off his urge to look for trouble to thwart even if it was, “unequivocally killing him” as Alfred liked to say.
Now, walking on his way back home to rest, Batman tried to quiet the loud squishing of his usually stealth combat boots on the wet pavement and listened to his surroundings vigilantly. As he always does. It was wise to always be wary of the underground area of Gotham after hours. As he listened, he picked up soft whimpers which his ears localized to be coming from an alley ahead of him. Just to the right of an old run downed apartment building. And so he investigated.
Holding his breath, he approached the source of the sobs and peered into the dead ended alley. He could not make out who it was that was producing the sounds however. The broken street lamps in the area made it too dark to see. So, he decided to enter the alley blind until the sobs grew louder and his eyes could make out the figure of a person crouched against the concrete wall.
Batman produced a small flashlight from his utility belt and shined it on the mystery individual. The sudden ray of light prompted an expected loud gasp from them and they stared wide eyed at Batman. Bruce’s eyes narrowed curiously as he pondered if he recognized the stranger. It was a man, appearing significantly younger than Bruce but not by much, crouched against the dead end wall holding his knees very close to his chest. His civilian clothes consisted of holy capris jeans and a thin off white and torn t-shirt that barely provided any warmth from the cold Gotham city fall weather. Batman observed that the man was also barefoot with cuts and bruises scattered all around his exposed pale skin. His head was covered with a messy as well as wet mop of jet black hair that shadowed earnest brows evening out his overall boyish look. Even while fresh and healing small slashes covered the man’s tear streaked face, Bruce couldn’t deny the shaken visage of the young man in front of him was a strikingly eye-catching one.
With trembling lips the man spoke, his voice sore and cracking, “Don’t hurt me.” He says and holds up his quivering arms to create a protective shield for his face from the Batman.
Batman keeps his flash light on the stricken young man and kneels in front of him to get at a face a face level to ease the young man’s fear of him. It does the absolute opposite however. Now at eye level with Batman, the young man jumped and screeched calling him the devil and the demon that took his friends away tonight. The latter insult catches Bruce’s attention. Was this man an Omega? Even with the rut suppressant pills, Bruce should still catch the scent of one but he couldn’t pin point what this man was.
Turning off his voice modulator, Batman assures the man in his most soothing voice he’d allow, “I won’t hurt you. I’m only here to help.” Without warning, the man sneaks by Batman, curiously quick for a beaten man and tries to run away.
He doesn’t go far however as he trips and falls over seconds later when the metal lid of a nearby trashcan catches him. Landing knee first and twisting his ankle in the process, the man mumbled more curses and decided to crawl instead as far away from the Batman as possible. Batman didn’t have to see every second of the fall to know it was a bad one and feels bad that the presence of him caused it.
He catches up with the man before he could go very far and does something he hasn’t done in a while out on patrol like this; he takes off his cowl. He knelt in front on the young man again, now near a flickering street lamp offering some light source.
“Are you alright?” Bruce asks remorsefully. The whimpering man looks up and his sobs pause abruptly as he looked at the face that was previously hidden behind the cowl. As he examined Bruce’s handsome features, his nose flared up as if on instinct catching a whiff of the scent in the air around Bruce. An Alpha. But Bruce smells curiously different than any Alpha he’s been around. Rather that the smell of the scent takes on menacing implications for the man as it usually has from predatory Alphas, the smell was an enticing and inviting one instead.
“Were you among those Omegas rescued today?” Bruce asks, “Are they the friends you think I took away?”
As Bruce continued to interrogate the man without the cowl on, the once threatening chiseled jaw combined with the reveal of grey at the temples head of hair, and narrow dark eyes became more and more pleasing to the Omega. As the young man looked at Bruce, his Omega tendency sought to take over and he forced himself to keep them under control. He couldn’t trust any Alpha.
“W-what do you want?” The man asked and wanted to tell Bruce to leave him alone again but he wanted the opposite if he was honest with himself. He was scared and didn't want to be alone.
“I only want to keep you safe from harm. Are you an Omega?” Bruce asks quietly still curious of the peculiar scent coming from the man, “What is your name?”
The man hesitates and contemplates on which question he should answer first and wonders whether he should even answer them in the first place. He decides to give only his name, “C-Clark.” He stutters. He surprises himself by giving away his real name rather than an alias.
“Clark.” Bruce echoes the name as if it’s the most fascinating name he’s ever heard. “Clark, we have to get you to a hospital to treat your wounds and find your home.”
Clark shakes his head quickly, panicked stricken again and wants to crawl away but can’t. The stinging pain from his twisted ankle keeps him in place. “No hospitals.” Clark says, his voice cracking with dread. “And I already was on my way home.” He lies.
“Well this isn’t a safe route home.” Bruce says furrowing his brows, “Let’s get you to a hospital at least.”
“No! They’ll find me and sell me back!” Clark blurts out and clenches his fist in frustration for clearly giving himself away.
“So you are an Omega.” Bruce confirms quietly, “Why is your scent different?”
Clark stays quiet, pondering whether to lie again to Bruce. But he is so tired and hurt that he doesn’t care to be deceptive with the Alpha stranger anymore, so he confesses. “Scent masking pills.” After another long pause, he continues, “They’re experimental. Given to me by one of the Omegas you rescued tonight. He didn’t tell me where he got them but they hide our smell from Alphas for a while. Some of us were able to sneak them and take them before we wanted to make an escape. If you were lucky, the Alphas running the ring didn’t recognize your face and you could slip past them and run away.”
“And you ran away from the pack tonight why? You were already safe.” Bruce says. He doesn’t know if it’s the cause of Clark confessing he was an Omega but Clark’s scent was suddenly assaulting his nose in the best way. Perhaps the pill’s masking effects were wearing off.
“I can never be truly safe yet.” Clark mutters and winces as his ankle stung.
Bruce notices the grimace and remembers he sought to help Clark in the first place, “If you don’t want to go to a hospital, show me where home is so I can help you there. Like I said, this isn’t a safe route home. Especially not for an Omega.”
Clark frowns and confesses again, “My home isn’t here. It’s on the other side of the Gotham bridge and I’m trying to avoid it because that’s where my bidder is. I-If he finds me, I’ll never have the chance to be free again.”
“Who’s he?”
“L- Lex." Clark says the name with a clenched jaw. He's confused at how effortlessly he's giving this stranger straight answers. "I’m tired of hearing that name.” He turns his head away in disgust.
“Lex?” Bruce whispers the name in mild surprise. The revelation doesn’t fully surprise Bruce. Lex Luthor was a sociopath. Bruce sensed it the moment he shook hands with him at a business conference in Metropolis a few months ago. Many are fooled by his quirky youthful attitude, but the man is very bright and very sneaky of his manipulative ways and Bruce was waiting for him to slip up soon on something criminal. Lex was one Alpha that would participate in the buying of Omega sex slaves. Among many other questionable things he’s found out about Lex, this definitely fits his m.o. After this, Bruce would have to tell Alfred he was right to have Lex on his radar. That being suspicious of Lex, wasn’t a matter of him being overly paranoid or tetchy with the competition. But why was Lex interested in this particular Omega?
“Is it okay if I ask why Lex wants specifically you all to himself?”
“It’s a long story. But long story short, he thinks I'm_Ow!” Clark was in the middle of answering when his ankle stung immensely again forcing him to give attention back to it.
Remembering Clark needed immediate medical attention rather than questions thrown at him, Bruce proposed to him, “If you don’t want to go to a hospital, is it alright that I treat you myself at my place? I can't leave you like this.” He reached out an inviting gloved hand to Clark, "I loathe what you must have went through."
Bruce braced himself for another denial. Clark’s body language didn’t show he was very trusting of Bruce and Bruce couldn’t blame him for that. But to his surprise, Clark didn’t reject him. He didn’t crawl away or call him a demon.
Instead, he darted his eyes between Bruce's face and chest for a while before he answered, “Okay. Take me.” and held out his arms to Bruce almost like a child. Bruce had qualms of the unforeseen invite for a moment but then accepted it, embracing Clark carefully and lifting him up bridal style in his arms. Clark shrank with a grimace in his arms and rested his head on the, rough stitched large bat symbol of the suit. He closed his eyes tiredly while Bruce's aroma swamped him.
“Is this an alright way to carry you? It’s not hurting?” Bruce asked cautiously holding Clark. Clark wasn’t that small of a man but he felt it in Bruce’s arms.
Clark moaned in response that the carry was alright with him.
Bruce put the cowl back on and contacted Alfred from the earpiece.
“Alfred, the batmobile would be useful right now. Bring it over.”
From the earpiece Alfred’s voice sounds with both relief and worry, “What took you long sir? I feared for the worst. Did everything go all right?”
“Yes, Alfred. All of the victims were admitted to a hospital and are being taken care of. Well, all of them expect one whom I have with me here. This one doesn’t want to go to a hospital so I’m bringing him over to treat him myself.”
“Is this decision to do so a wise one sir?” Alfred asks alluding to Bruce Wayne’s old habit of sheltering young, orphaned boys at the manor just to have them later turn into his crime-fighting side kicks.
Bruce sighs, “I really meant what I said about never pursuing that again.”
“Very well sir.” Alfred answers, “The car is on its way to your location. It should arrive in about six minutes.”
“Thank you Alfred, see you soon.”
“Who’s Alfred?” Clark mumbles as Bruce carries him out of the secluded alley and onto the open and quiet street.
“A good friend. You’ll like him.”
4 am ticks off the large Gotham clock tower on the far misty horizon, waking up the birds that begin their chirping at the crack of dawn. They sing harmonious with the ghostly howling sound of the wind. Among these sounds, the loud roar of the approaching batmobile is heard from the distance.
With Clark snuggled in his arms, Bruce noticed daylight begin to creep over the skyline ahead of them. The moon shone dimly now as it slowly sunk behind industrial buildings and modern skyscrapers, waving goodnight to the rising sun. The view paints a warm and breathtaking picture of approaching morning that almost has Bruce forget of the repulsions he encountered all but a few hours ago. Gotham City will do that to you.