Chapter Text
Jason grunted as he ducked behind cover, narrowly avoiding the sorcerer’s spell.
“It don’t gotta be like this!” He shouted. “Jus’ come quiet-like ‘n’ maybe you won’t end up in Arkham!”
“You’ll never take me alive!” The sorcerer shouted like a walking cliche.
“That can be arranged.” Jason growled as he refilled his ammunition.
"Jason!" Tim scolded, his voice coming through the helmet loud and clear despite the chaos of magic flying around him.
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Jason rolled his eyes. "I wasn't bein' serious, I ain't breakin' our deal." The guy was a clown, and definitely not someone Jason could let walk around the streets, but he was pretty sure this guy's deal wasn't the sort of thing he killed for on a normal day anyway.
Honestly, Jason had no idea WHAT this guy’s deal was. His ‘mischief’ was entirely without a point in his humble opinion. He wasn’t human trafficking scum, wasn’t selling magical drugs, not even to adults.
It was more like some asshole gave this asshole a magic book and said, ‘go wild’.
It honestly wouldn’t surprise Jason if that was exactly what happened, and the sorcerer just thought it was funny to toss spells he didn’t understand around at random. Well, Jason was going to show him just WHY that was a really bad idea.
He spun out from cover, pressed the trigger, and at that same instant-
The sorcerer’s spell hit Jason smack in the chest, sending him crashing into darkness...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jason woke up feeling as if he’d been run over by a truck. As awareness came back to him, he groaned and slowly pushed himself up, just by a few inches, his muscles felt too much like Jello to get him much further up. With bleary eyes, he took in his surroundings.
Where am I? He thought. What am I wearing?
Nothing looked the same as it looked when he went to bed last night.
Shit, was I trafficked? The mere thought sent adrenaline surging through Jason as he stumbled to his feet, limbs entangled in the overly large shirt and pants he was wearing. His hands flew to his head and he whimpered as he felt the large helmet covering it.
What is this? What IS this? Jason felt himself begin to panic, little pup cries falling from his lips as he finally freed himself from the heavy pants and jacket. What’s the point of all this? He was really starting to panic now, breaths coming too quick as he searched for a door to escape.
“-Son? Jason, are you there?” A voice coming from inside the helmet called out.
“Who are you? How do ya know my name?” Jason demanded, fingers struggling to undo the helmet.
“What- Jason, it’s me. Tim.” The voice sounded hurt somehow, though Jason couldn’t imagine why. HE was the one trapped in an unknown location wearing absolutely nothing that fit him right!
“I don’t know any Tim’s!” He snarled. “Are you behind this? Did you kidnap me?!”
“What? No! What are you even-” The voice stopped for a moment, and then continued in a much calmer voice. “Jason, how old are you?”
Jason didn’t see much of a point in lying, especially if the figure already knew his name. Still, the answer came out as a grumble. “Eleven. Why?”
The voice didn’t answer right away, until it said, “Don’t take off the helmet.”
“Why not? I’m gettin’ outa here!” Jason growled and redoubled his efforts.
“Because there’s a bomb in the helmet.” The voice answered, infuriatingly calm. “It’ll go off if you don’t use the right pattern to open it.”
The words made Jason freeze, his breath picking up again. “A bomb?!” He squeaked. “Who puts bombs in helmets ‘n’ straps ‘em ontop-a kid’s head?!”
“An idiot.” The voice said dryly. “Now Jason, this is important. Are you alone right now?”
Jason didn’t trust the voice. He didn’t know so many things, how he got here, what happened to him, the voice could even be lying about the bomb for all he knew…
But Jason didn’t know what to do, and right now that voice was the only thing anchoring him to this moment. So he took a deep breath and looked around. “I don’t see anyone.” He said.
“Okay good. I need you to hide then, until I get there. Can you do that Jay?”
Jason bit his lip. On the one hand, he really didn’t want to wait around and see who was on the other end of this call. On the other hand, if he wasn’t lying about the bomb then… he might be the only person who could take it off.
Life was hard for a street rat, but that didn’t mean he was about to give up. It also didn’t mean he wanted to be blown up, so despite his misgivings he slowly nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.” He said, quickly pinpointing the perfect hiding place.
“Okay good, I’m almost there Jay, I swear, and then I’ll explain everything.” The voice said, sounding relieved.
Jason didn’t answer, just crawled inside his hidey-hole and curled up to wait.
The voice- he’d said his name was Tim right?- hadn’t been lying. Jason was only waiting for about five minutes when the roar of a motorcycle engine died outside, and someone entered the warehouse.
Jason peeked outside his hiding spot, suspicious, only for his eyes to widen as he saw some rumpled-looking teenager.
Honestly, he’d expected some creepy adult to show up.
“Jason?” The figure called, the voice the same one he’d heard earlier, and Jason caught a whiff of their scent on the breeze. Milk-coffee, which meant the teen hadn’t even presented yet. Weird…
And there was something else, some tinge to his scent that made Jason’s Omega brain sit up and take notice, something that told him he needed to come out and-
The teen found the pants and jacket he’d escaped earlier, quickly grabbing the clothes and balling them up. “Jason, are you there? Please, we need to get out of here!” The teen said, Jason catching a whiff of distress coming from that scent, and something just…tugged at his heart. Need gripped his little limbs, demanding he get closer.
Instinct took over and Jason slid out of his hiding place, running straight towards Tim.
Tim whirled around before he’d even crossed half the distance, relief taking over his scent. “Jay! Okay, stay still, I’ll handle the helmet.” He said as Jason pulled to a stop in front of him. A tiny whimper squeaked out from his vocal cords.
What’s going on? Why am I acting like this? I don’t even know this kid, but something about his scent… Jason took deep inhales as Tim’s hand approached his neck, fiddling with something just beneath his chin.
The exposed scent glands and close proximity gave Jason a good sense of Tim’s smell, that milk-coffee pup scent and his emotions, but the helmet was getting in the way of a real proper read and it was driving Jason crazy.
With a hiss the helmet’s grip on him finally relaxed, the helmet smoothly sliding off his head while Jason took large, gasping breaths of fresh air.
And Tim’s scent.
PACK!
Jason stumbled forward, Tim giving a little yelp of surprise as he forced the older pup to catch him. His head was buried in Tim’s shirt, his mind spinning with confusion.
Pack? Pack? I don’t have a pack, I’m alone- I…what happened to me? What don’t I remember? Jason’s hands clenched, wrinkling Tim’s shirt. He didn’t even realize he was crying again until Tim’s hands wrapped around his shoulders.
“It’s okay Jay, I’ve got you. We’ll figure this out, okay?” Tim whispered.
How? Jason thought but didn’t say.
There was so much he didn’t understand, but scents didn’t lie. Never.
This pup he didn’t know was his pack. Somehow, someway, they’d met and grown a bond… and Jason couldn’t remember a thing of it. How much of his memories were missing? How much had he lost when whatever had happened to him happened?
He didn’t know. But as Tim picked him up and brought him out of the warehouse, he set the matter to the side. He’d get his answers eventually and for now…
Well. For now, he’d let himself enjoy this. Just for a little while.
It’d been so long since he’d felt cared for, since the scent of pack had settled around his shoulders. He could enjoy that for a few minutes…right?
