Fandom: Batman
Pairing: Bruce Wayne & Male OC, Damian Wayne & Male OC [Platonic]
Rating: Teen
Content: Amnesia, Loss of identity, Blood and gore, Graphic violence, Injuries, Animal abuse, Semi-verbal character
Date originally written: 12th January 2022
Summary: Bruce has questions, but can Omen answer them?

Bruce had made plans for the many different situations that could occur, when he’d thrown himself off the roof and Omen came around to investigate. He had a plan if Omen decided to walk away. He had a plan in case Omen attacked. He even had a plan in case Omen started sniffing him and tried to nibble on his cape.

He was prepared for everything, including the event where Omen nodded and did exactly what Batman asked of it.

He just hadn’t believed the event to very likely.

But now that Omen had curled around him and blocked him from seeing anything but Omen’s own fur and face and the sky above, he realised how wrong he’d being.

He also realised he was being protected, of all things. Like a bird sitting on her chicks, or a cat curled around her kittens, Omen was curled around him and on top of him, protecting him from anything and everything that might come crawling into the alleyway.

Bruce had been made completely speechless because of the act, and had barely let out a whispered “Thank you” in response.

Omen was no longer an “it” to Bruce. They were no longer just a “creature” or a “wolf”. Omen was clearly a person. Omen was intelligent. Omen was...breathing hot air in his face, and he was surprised to find out that it didn’t really smell like much.

It was just another strange thing about Omen that Bruce wouldn’t have an answer for. At least not yet.

Bruce couldn’t help but look at Omen closely, observing them. Up close, Omen was a lot bigger than he’d anticipated. Back when he’d been chasing Omen down, when he’d sneaked up behind them, Omen had seemed a lot smaller. They’d been crouched low to the ground, and by the time Bruce had acquired a better look of them standing up, they’d already managed to jump across to another building. He’d never obtained a true idea of Omen’s actual size, even though he logically knew Omen was big.

But being so close to Omen, and having their entire body curled around his, with their head laid upon his chest...Omen was bigger than he’d ever realised. Omen could easily be twice the size of the largest extinct canid in the world, the Epicyon, and Bruce felt extremely foolish for ever trying to chase Omen down one month ago. It would’ve been his end if Omen ever decided to turn around and attack. Omen wouldn’t have needed to try. It would’ve been over in only a moment.

Now, though....Bruce felt almost safe. Not quite, but almost . Omen had closed their eyes after he had called Nightwing to come pick him up in the Batmobile, and if Bruce didn’t know any better, he might’ve believed Omen was sleeping.

Bruce felt a sudden, strange and dangerous urge to pet Omen’s fur, but quickly decided against it. He had no idea how Omen would react, and he didn’t want to ruin the fragile, peaceful moment that had been created between them.

He did want to speak, though. He needed answers, and there was no better time than right now to get those answers. The questions had been turned over a hundred times within his mind, and he couldn’t waste this opportunity for anything.

“Omen..?”

Omen opened his eyes, their ears pricking up again, clearly paying attention to him.

“A month ago...I chased you across the rooftops...because I believed you were stalking my son...Robin. I need to know....why? Why were you there...why were you watching him..?”

Omen was unsurprised by the question The Scary One presented to him, but he found it surprisingly difficult to answer.

He knew what he wanted to say, knew the exact words that he wanted to relay to The Scary One, but found that he had no voice. He tried and tried and tried...but he could only answer in growls and whines and huffs. The words were right there in his mind, complex and tied together and caught up in a tangle of multiple other different thoughts and meanings...but nothing would come out of his mouth.

Omen struggled with his own body and mind, tried his damnedest to push any words out of his mouth at all, anything to prove that he wanted to answer, that he was intelligent, that he could understand The Scary One...and he managed it. It was only one word, but he managed it.

It was also the completely wrong word.

“NO.”

The word came out forcefully, and it sounded more like a wolf’s growl than any word from the English language (or any language, for that matter). It was deep and dark and gravely, like the voice of a demon from hell, and it put The Scary One’s own deep, dark voice to complete shame.

But it also clearly scared him, too. The Scary One flinched and tensed up at that one word, and Omen immediately felt guilty. His intention hadn’t been to scare him...only to respond to his questions, to speak...but he had clearly failed.

Omen quickly flicked his ears back in submission, and laid his head back down on The Scary One’s chest, and then whined like he was nothing more than a guilty puppy who had gotten into a closet and chewed up something he shouldn’t have. He hoped that the display, no matter how shameful it felt to make, would show The Scary One that he’d not meant to scare him, that he wasn’t a threat.

The dark vigilante seemed to relax again, but it was clear that he was confused by Omen’s outburst, as well as the subsequent apology Omen had given him.

Omen took his time trying to respond again. He knew he could at least speak a word, if he tried really hard. So he mustered up every bit of brain power in his mind, to think of a single word that encapsulated all of the reasons why he had been watching the Little One, Robin, The Son Of The Scary One.

Omen closed his eyes, and eventually another word came out of his mouth, almost ripped out of his throat by the force of it.

“LONELY...”

There was a heavy silence between them.

Bruce felt something inside of him break at Omen’s admission, even if all they’d said was one word.

He didn’t know anything about Omen, but knowing that they were intelligent, knowing that Omen likely had no one but themselves to watch out for them...some of Omen’s past behaviours started to make a bit more sense to Bruce.

He tried to put himself in Omen’s position for a moment, to try and understand the situation they must have been in, but Bruce realised he couldn’t imagine being so alone in the world. Even without his kids...without his friends in the Justice League...without any of his contacts all across Gotham...Bruce, at the very least, still had Alfred. He still had people like Lucius and Gordon. He still had the people on the street that he fought for, who didn’t know who Batman was behind the mask, but who understood what Batman was trying to accomplish, who understood the trauma, the grief, the rage and the pain.

Even if Bruce had been as lonely as was humanely possible for his situation, he would still be less lonely than Omen was now. To be completely and utterly alone in the way he believed Omen to be, would be soul crushing for Bruce.

“I’m sorry...” He said, finally.

He wasn’t entirely sure if he was apologising for chasing Omen across the rooftops, or for accusing him of being a stalker...or if he was sorry that Omen was lonely, but Omen seemed to accept the apology anyway. They gently laid their head back down on his chest, and closed their eyes again, looking as peaceful as they had been before Bruce had interrupted the quiet moment.

They waited in silence, for a few more minutes, before both Omen and Batman started to hear the rumbling of a powerful engine in the distance.

Nightwing had finally arrived at the location of the “surprise attack” that Batman had experienced on one of the rooftops above him. He hopped out of the Batmobile, a medical kit in tow, and rushed toward the alleyway that Batman had pinged on the GPS map of Gotham that they all had access to. It was a narrow alleyway that most people wouldn’t bother wondering into unless they had a very good (or very bad) reason to, so he was glad that they’d all have some semblance of privacy (though neither Dick nor anyone else in his family had ever been particularly good at lowering their guard, even in peaceful situations).

Dick knew, realistically, that Omen was supposed to be there protecting Batman (which meant that Bruce’s crazy plan had worked , somehow), but despite that knowledge, he was still taken aback by the huge form of darkness in front of him.

The cowl and domino masks all had night vision built-in for particular situations when the alleyways were a bit too dark, or when using a bright flashlight wasn’t a very good idea, and the night vision in his domino mask was the only reason Dick could see Omen at all. All that he could see in front of him were tendrils of shadow and fur, and what he believed was Omen’s chest expanding and contracting as he breathed.

He wished, briefly, that he’d arrived on the other side of the alleyway, if only so he could actually see Bruce, but given the hulking size of Omen...he wasn’t really sure it would matter. He wouldn’t be able to see Bruce no matter what, not until Omen got up and allowed him to see Bruce.

Dick steeled his nerves, and cleared his throat. “Batman?”

There was an immediate reaction from Omen, a loud and guttural growl which made Dick take a step back. Then, he heard Bruce speaking.

“Easy...it’s just Nightwing....it’s just my son...”

In response to the quiet words, Omen carefully pulled his entire form back, removing his shadow-y tendrils from the Batman’s body, and took a step back, giving Nightwing access.

Dick knew that Bruce wasn’t actually injured, but nevertheless, he still had to act like he was, and go through proper procedures and protocols to keep the act convincing (and to keep Bruce from lecturing him).

“Are you alright? Where are you injured? How much blood do you think you’ve lost?” He asked, as he quickly made his way over to Bruce. He almost hesitated when he saw Omen lower his head a bit, moving their snout closer to both the vigilantes as they sniffed the air, but Dick couldn’t falter. He had to keep up the atmosphere of emergency if he was going to get Bruce back to the cave quickly without any real incidents.

“My stomach...don’t know how much...too much....stabbed..deep.”

“Shit. Alright.”

So. Bruce was going to make his fake injury a very awful, painful and difficult injury for him to “recover” from, which he’d actually have to pretend to heal from in order to evade suspicion? Cool. Great. Fantastic.

Dick wanted to scream from Bruce’s dramatic antics. The only good thing about this situation was that it would get Bruce away from the suit for a while to keep up the appearance that he was actually severely injured, even though Bruce wouldn’t particularly enjoy doing so.

Dick opened the medical kit and quickly got to work bandaging the “wound” as tightly as was sensible, and Batman gave out some pretty convincing grunts and hisses of “pain”.

“We can’t do much more than bandage the wound until we get back to the cave. You’re gonna need serious stitches. And probably a few blood transfusions, too.”

It was completely unnecessary to say it all out loud. They both knew that this type of “injury” would require a bit more work back at the cave, but Dick felt it pertinent to say it out loud in front of Omen, so that they knew the seriousness of the situation. So that Omen knew what was going to happen to Batman, and that he’d be taken care of.

Once Nightwing had completely wrapped the “wound”, he carefully hauled Batman onto his feet, making a show of the extreme “pain” that he felt being dragged up from the ground, and as he lead Bruce to the Batmobile, Dick could hear Omen following closely behind.

Eventually Dick had guided Bruce into the passenger side of the car, and he took one last look at Omen. Standing up at their full height, Omen looked very tall for what was supposed to be a wolf. He’d really thought Damian had just been exaggerating Omen’s size, but it was very clear to him now that his little brother had been telling the god-honest truth.

It was no wonder the fight with Killer Croc had ended how it did.

Dick wasn’t really sure what he should do or say, so he settled for something simple.

“Thanks. For...watching over him for me.”

Omen gave a curt nod and huffed out some air in response, and turned around and trotted away into the darkness, disappearing into the shadows.