Chapter Text
I was a descendent of a cat god.
Or so my mother told me when I was younger, before I got separated from her after losing my first life.
But because of my ancestry, I was different from other cats. I was special. I had nine lives. My mother used to tell me this while grooming my hair. Sometimes she did it in her feline form, sometimes as a human. And I, on the receiving end, usually preferred being in my smaller, cat form. Petting always felt better in that form.
My mother also warned me never to tell anyone – cat or human. She said it would cause great jealousy and possibly fear. They would hunt me down and try to take my lives.
And so, I had never told anyone. I kept my promise to my mother, wherever she may be.
But now, as I lie against the bed, much unlike the bed we have at home, I think back on my lives. They have been good, I believe. I smile softly, pressing myself a little closer to the slow beating by my ear and watching the rise and fall of his chest. I close my tired eyes.
Yes, they have been good. And I owe it all to him.
I met him on Christmas Eve, a busy day among the humans. I used to sit and watch them for hours from the rooftops on that day. Some bustled around looking for last minute gifts, some reunited with family and friends they have not seen in a long time, and there is no shortage of laughter and cheer.
I loved Christmas Eve.
However, on that Christmas Eve, I wondered if my entire fourth life was just one big joke.
Because a few hours previous, on that day, I collapsed in an alleyway. I ended up half tucked away between the trash cans and barely managed to wrap my tail around myself.
I felt weak, and I knew I was only growing weaker. As I was lying here, shivering and wishing for death to be merciful, I could feel my strength and magic draining away.
It had only been a few days ago that I lost the ability to transform into my human form. I worked harder to find food, but I just could not. Each day I went without eating, I came closer and closer to the end of my fourth life.
I curled up into a smaller ball, shivering violently. I could no longer feel the hard snow through my thin, mangled fur anymore, but it did not matter to me. I just wanted it to end. The cold was unbearable, the gnawing hunger was excruciating, and the surely infected wounds from a nasty fight a week ago had rendered my back leg useless.
I let my eyes blink twice slowly, watching the blurry lights of cars zip past the small alleyway and the faint chatter of people fade from my consciousness. The fact that the light dusting of snow was starting to build on me like a white blanket was a strangely comforting thought. It felt like I was being tucked in for a nice, long nap.
But I knew from experience that death was nothing like taking a little cat nap.
As the darkness finally engulfed me, I heard what sounded like footsteps crunching in the snow, drawing closer to where I lay.
~
That is the first time death had been warm, I thought, burrowing a bit deeper into the softness surrounding me. Or maybe it was spring time already. Had I really been dead for three months now? I stretched lazily, letting out a small yawn. The room was really warm, and I felt comfortable. Huh, I have never remained dead for that long before.
I finally cracked my eyes open.
No, the source of the warmth was a merry fire burning in the fireplace not too far away from where I was curled up. I could still feel my damp fur and the chill that settled in my bones, but it was dull and faraway now.
I tried to move a bit, but the blankets bundled around me were thick, and they kept my weak body in place. I let out a pathetic mew.
Suddenly, something touched my head. I flinched away and looked up. It was a hand, a human hand.
“Hey, hey, shh…” the human said softly. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”
I have always wondered why humans say that. I did not automatically assume he was going to hurt me. I was just startled by his touch, is all. I blinked and tried to get a better look at the human man.
He had a kind smile on his face, and his eyes were blue, like mine. I could see the flickering fire reflected in his eyes. He wore glasses, sitting low on his nose. His hair was black, like my fur, and he had a few brown dots on his nose. Freckles, my thawing mind supplied.
He was wearing a red sweater that has strange shapes stitched on them. It was ugly.
He reached out to pet me again, and this time, I allowed it. His hand was warm, and it smelled nice. Like gingerbread and pumpkin spice. I pressed my face up towards his hand.
“That’s it,” he breathed. “Are you okay now? I was so scared that you’d die. The vets nearby are all closed now, and it is snowing too heavily to drive safely. Sorry I couldn’t do much for you.”
I wanted to tell him that he saved my life. It was the greatest thing anyone had ever done for me. But I was still too weak to transform and speak to him in my human form. So I gently licked the palm of his hand. He laughed.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty? I’ll go get you something to eat, okay? I’ll be right back, I promise.”
He stood and shuffled out of the room. I noticed that his slippers were furry and brown with antlers coming out of each shoe. The antlers had bells on them, and they rang obnoxiously with each of his steps.
While he was gone, I glanced around the room. It was his living room. It seemed rather nice. There was a small Christmas tree in the corner, richly decorated in bright ornaments. I had the urge to go bat at them, but I knew that ornaments were delicate. On the mantle of the fireplace, there were several framed photographs. There was a window on the far side of the room, and I could see the flurry of snowflakes on the grey-blue backdrop of a sky.
All in all, it was a cozy place. I let my eyes slide closed once more, feeling the heat seep into my .
The human man had saved my life. Me, a stray cat, curled up in an alleyway on a Christmas Eve. I owed him my life.
I made myself a promise right then and there, and I would dedicate one of my lives to him. I would not leave him alone until I fulfilled my debt to this man.
The man returned. He had an open can of tuna with him. The sweet aroma of the fish made my stomach growl. I tried wiggling out of the blankets but had a difficult time doing so. My back leg screamed out in protest.
The man laughed and knelt down by me. “Hey, easy now,” he said. He set the can of tuna down, just out of my reach. He carefully unwrapped the blanket from my body. I shook myself out before limping to the can of tuna.
It was the first thing I had eaten in almost a week. I ravaged the contents of the can, and the man stroked my back the entire time. After I finished licking my whiskers, I purred loudly and pressed into the man’s hand.
He sat down, crossing his legs, and I took the liberty of crawling into the little space between his legs.
“You’re still a bit wet, and we'll have to get that wound looked at,” he said aloud. “But I think you’ll be fine. I’ll take you to the vet tomorrow, and we’ll see how you’re doing, okay?” He scratched the spot behind my ears. It felt nice. “I have been thinking about adopting a pet… maybe I can adopt you. You seem to like me well enough anyway.”
I purred louder and attempted to crawl under his sweater to show him that I did like him. I wanted to stay with him. It would make it easier for me to repay him.
The man laughed and allowed me to climb under his ugly sweater. He hugged me tightly, relieving the pressure on my back leg, and I licked his chin. He shied away with an amused grimace.
“You’re sure affectionate, huh?” he asked. “Do you have a name? Maybe I should name you. I’m not very good with names though,” he admitted, looking at me. I stared into his beautiful blue eyes. I had a name, but if he wanted to name me, I would let him.
“Um, Blackie? No, that’s stupid. Fluffy… no, that’s even worse. Uh, Nightie?” He made a face. “Eh, that’s horrid. Midnight? That’s… cool, but it sounds like a horse’s name,” he laughed. “Night… cat. Night-kitty?” He huffed loudly. “Whatever. I’ll sleep on it.”
I nuzzled his neck, and he laughed again. I liked his laugh. When he laughed, the sound would travel through his whole body, and I could feel the tremors when I pressed again him. It was nice.
“Alright, I’m going to make up a box for you to sleep in tonight, okay? The stores are all closed now and they won’t be open tomorrow, so I can’t get you a proper bed for a few days.” The man stood up and left me on the pile of blankets. I protested the loss of his body heat.
He came back five minutes later with a large cardboard box, filled with towels and pieces of cloth. There was even a little blanket inside. It looked a bit ridiculous, but my heart swelled knowing he had made it just for me. He was too kind.
He gently lifted me up and place me into the box. “That okay?” he asked. “Sorry I don’t have something more comfortable.
It’s much better than sleeping on the frozen ground, I thought. He started petting me again, and I turned over to let him stroke my stomach. I stared up at the man, and I knew then that I would give him anything he asked. No one had ever shown me so much attention and love before. No one had ever wanted to adopt me, or help me, or talk to me at all.
Whoever this man was, I loved him.
~
“Shit,” I cursed, sucking on my burnt finger and rushing to the sink. I ran the red tip under the water, wincing silently.
I turned around and just managed to save the eggs from burning. I quickly transferred the pan off the heat and slid the omelette onto the plate. I smiled proudly and turned the stove off. Then, I put some salt and pepper onto the dish, and a bit of chopped green onions for garnish.
I placed the dish onto the dining table and carefully set out a fork and a knife. I poured a glass of orange juice and set it by the plate.
Then, I moved back to the kitchen to start doing the dishes.
I was halfway through scrubbing the pan, when the crash of glass breaking made me whirl around.
It was the man from the night before, standing in the doorway.
“Who the fuck are you?” he gaped. “And what the hell are you doing in my house?!”
My eyes widened. “Oh! I’m so sorry for intruding,” I said as sincerely as I could. “I don’t know if you remember, but you saved my life last night, and I couldn’t properly thank you, so I made you breakfast!”
The man’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “You… made breakfast. Who are you again? I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I saved someone’s life last night and brought them home.”
“I’m the cat,” I explained, going back to scrubbing the pan. I set the soapy pan aside and started on a bowl. “I almost died last night, in the snow, but you brought me back to your home… and you fed me… kept me warm… and I’m alive because of you.”
“Y- You’re the cat?” The man let out a near hysterical laugh. “I’m having a nightmare. Please get out of my house now!”
“But-”
“No, I don’t care what you have to say! You’re trespassing, and I’m going to call the police if you don’t leave now!”
“I haven’t-”
“Go! Get out of here!” he yelled.
I stopped washing the bowl. I stared at him in despair. Then, I rinsed my hands off and shut the water off. “I’m sorry for causing an inconvenience to you,” I said quietly. “Thank you for taking care of me last night. I’ll never forget your kindness. I’ll leave you alone now.”
I made my way back to the living room, and I paused with my hand on the doorknob. I glanced around the living room once more.
My box-bed by the Christmas tree was empty. I had woken up that morning, feeling good enough to transform. So I did, and I folded up all the towels and blankets nicely inside the box. I put the thicker blanket into the washing machine and then moved it to the dryer. It should be done by now.
I smiled sadly at the box-bed. I wanted to take it with me because it was the first thing anyone, aside from my mother, had given me. But I was afraid it was too much to ask.
I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.
It was snowing outside, the world a flurry of white and gray. I made my way down the steps of the porch and I could feel the soft snow under my feet. I shivered. My clothes were not meant for cold weather, and I doubted that my fur would be any help. But it was easier to travel as a cat, so I transformed.
I planned to loop around the block and find somewhere to hide nearby. Then, I could keep a close eye on my human. Maybe I could sneak into his house and help him clean up a bit or do some laundry when he was at work, I thought, making my way down the snow covered path. I eyed the gate. I think I’m still thin enough to fit through here.
“Wait!”
I paused and turned, my body halfway through the bars of the gate.
The man was standing on the porch. His eyes were wide, staring at me. “Holy fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ve seriously got to be dreaming.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes hard. “Look. Um, I guess you were telling the truth so far? Because the cat I rescued last night is gone, and you really did make breakfast. So, um, if you’re willing to explain again, you can come in?”
I could not believe what I was hearing. Had he decided to give me another chance? I thought. Oh, please, please! I will be better this time, I promise!
He groaned. “I’m talking to a cat. That’s it. I’ve finally lost my mind.”
I slowly turned around and slipped back through the bars. I padded my way back up the porch and sat down in front of the man.
He stared at me for a few seconds before crouching. “Are you really that- that man that was in my kitchen?” he asked. “Can you understand me?”
I nodded and meowed, not that he would have understood what I was saying.
“Shit, um, okay. And you’re- you’re a cat-man hybrid thing?” he asked.
I just stared at him.
“Right,” he breathed. “Cats don’t talk.” He stood up and stepped back inside. “Uh, you can… you can come inside again.”
I happily pranced past him, giving his leg a little nuzzle as I passed. He flinched and pulled his leg away. He does not like being touched by me, I mentally noted. I will no longer try to touch him.
I quickly transformed in the kitchen, before the man came in. I felt slightly dizzy after the transformation. I had to hold onto the counter for some support for a few seconds.
The man appeared in the doorway once more. He jumped the slightest bit when he saw me. I made sure to keep my stance as passive as possible.
I knew, however, he could probably overpower me with little effort. I was not big, nor was I very strong as a human or a cat.
“Sit,” the man said, nodding at the dining table.
I made my way over cautiously, not wanting to scare him again. I sat down in the seat farthest from him. He also sat down slowly, still eyeing me with distrust.
“So, what are you?” he asked. “A cat? A man? Both? Neither?”
“I am a shapeshifter,” I said simply. “But I only have two forms. This one, my human form, and the black cat, which is my feline form.”
“And- And you can shift between these forms whenever you want?” the man asked.
“Sometimes,” I said. “Shifting requires a lot of energy. Last night, I could not shift because the last bits of my energy was focused on keeping myself alive. I would have thanked you verbally if I could.”
“So you nearly died last night? And I really saved your life?”
I nodded and gave the man a shy smile. “You did,” I confirmed. “And I wish to repay you.”
The man pulled a face. “Nah, there’s nothing to repay. I mean, I couldn’t exactly let some poor animal die out in the cold like that. Especially not on Christmas Eve. That’s just heartless. And, uh, how's your leg?”
I smiled a little wider. “You were one of hundreds that passed me last night. And my leg has better now that I have the energy to heal myself. Thank you.”
“Look, man, it was nothing. You made me breakfast. That’s sufficient, I’d say.”
“No, I must repay you!” I exclaimed. “Please. Let me repay you. I don't have money, but... I can cook and clean and take care of any mundane affairs.”
The man sighed. He rubbed his eyes before staring at me again. “Fine,” he grumbled. He frowned at me. “Where do you live?”
“I don’t have a home,” I said. “It doesn’t matter though. I can just find some hole to duck into at night and come back every day to help you!”
The man frowned deeper. “There were so many things wrong with what you just said,” he said. “First, you don’t have to come back every single day. Second, you’re planning on just sleeping in a hole somewhere? In the middle of winter? In Gotham?”
“I have survived winters in Gotham before,” I said calmly. I did not tell him how close I come to dying every year. “I don’t mind it so much. Sometimes, I just imagine that the snow is like a blanket, and after a while, I stop noticing the cold.” I smiled brightly at him. He did not smile back at me. “And if you don’t want me around so often, I can come every other day, when you are not at home. You won’t even see me, I swear.”
The man’s frown only grew. “That’s not-” he sighed heavily. He rubbed his face yet again and groaned, muttering under his breath. He finally glanced up again, looking haggard. “Look, you can- you can stay here with me for the winter. I have an extra room, and you can just, I don’t know, cook, clean, whatever you want to do to ‘repay’ me.”
“Oh, no!” I said, alarmed. “I could not do that to you! I could not stay here if it makes you uncomfortable!”
“I can’t just throw you out onto the streets!” he snapped. “Do you know how bad I would feel? Look, just- just for the winter okay? Gotham’s winters are harsh, and this year has been bad. So just do me a favor and stay. At least then I would know you didn’t die, especially after I went through all that trouble to save you.”
He’s right, I thought. I must stay here and help him. It will be easier if I lived with him.
“Okay,” I finally said. “Thank you for your kindness. I don’t deserve your compassion. I will do everything I can to repay you.” I suddenly remembered the unfinished dishes in the sink. “Oh! I must go finish washing the dishes!” I stood up, and immediately, a wave of dizziness washed over me.
I stumbled and fell. I banged my elbow against the table and cried out.
“Shit, you okay?” The man was by my side in a flash. He helped me up. “What the hell was that?”
I smiled weakly. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Just a bit dizzy. I transformed three times in the past couple hours, and it’s really drained my energy.” I stood up and had to hold onto the wall for support.
“How do you recharge?” he asked.
I took a step forward, still hanging onto the wall. “Sleep helps, but mainly eating.”
“Then why don’t you eat anything? Sit the hell back down, and you eat the food you made,” the man said. He tried to tug me back to the table.
“But it’s yours!” I protested. “I can’t eat that. I made it for you!”
“Where’s your share then?” the man asked.
I shook my head again. The movement made my head protest. I would not be able to hold this for more than another hour probably. I could probably take a nap and feel a little better. “I didn’t make myself anything. It was your food.”
The man glared at me. “Are you fucking stupid?” he asked. “Go sit the fuck down.”
He was angry. I made him angry. Shame filled me, and my cheeks flushed. I shuffled back to my seat and I sat down. The man stomped to the kitchen and grabbed an empty plate and a set of utensils. He glared at me as he cut the plump omelette in half. I winced as he shoved half of it onto the empty plate and set it down in front of me.
“Eat,” he demanded. “And don’t you dare argue with me. I can’t have you passing you out on me and nearly dying again.”
I swallowed hard. I hesitantly picked up the fork and the knife. “Sorry,” I whispered. I slowly cut into the omelette, watching as the steaming filling spilled out. It smelled delicious, but I could barely bring myself to eat it.
You shouldn’t be eating this. It isn’t your food. If you keep taking from him, you’ll never be able to repay him, even if him give you all of your lives. I bit down and forced myself to chew, chew, swallow.
When I looked up, I noticed that he had started eating his share. I watched nervously as he swallowed.
“How is it?” I asked. “I don’t cook much, so I’m not very good at this whole thing, but-”
“It’s good,” he said, nodding. He seemed to be relieved by the change in topic to something more trivial. “The onion is a bit raw for my taste, and I think the bell peppers are cut a bit big, but it’s okay.” He smiled a little. “It’s good though.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry about the onions and the peppers,” I said. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
“It’s perfectly fine!” the man assured. He smiled a little helplessly. “Sorry, I’m a food critic at the Gotham Gazette, so I kind of just critique things without thinking about it. It’s delicious though, trust me.”
“Okay,” I said, but I kept his words in mind. It would be useful the next time I cooked for him. I would have to try a little harder. I smiled though. He liked what I made.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
I looked up in surprise. “I thought you were going to name me?”
He snorted. “I thought I was naming a stray cat, not a human. Well, human-cat.”
“You can still name me, if you want,” I said.
“No, that’s fucked up. If you have a name, that’s what I’m going to call you.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. I took another slow bite of my food. It did taste good. I smiled a bit more. “Um, my mother named me Dick. Short for Richard.”
The man blinked at me for a few seconds. “Okay,” he said. “Dick. I’m Jason.”
“Jason,” I repeated, trying his name. A flush of happiness flowed through me. I knew his name. He told me his name. I grinned. “I like your name,” I said shyly. “It- It suits you.”
Jason’s eyebrows rose slowly. “Oh, well, thanks, I suppose. I like your name too.”
I was positively beaming.
That was the best Christmas of my four lives.
~
I hummed happily under the breath as I worked, mopping the floors with an old mop I found in a closet in Jason’s house. Jason was currently at work in downtown Gotham. He told me he would not be home until later because he was going to dinner at a new restaurant with a couple friends. He made me promise to eat without him.
It was late afternoon by the time I had finished mopping. I was immensely proud of myself. I had skipped lunch, but I was not particularly hungry anyway. I had a lot of work to do before Jason returned.
I did not want to be working while Jason was in the house. It might bother him.
I was returning to the kitchen when I passed the three flower pots sitting on the ground by the door to the backyard. I had noticed them a few days ago. They were three tomato plants, and they looked well cared for. The vines of the plants wove around a metal trellis that connected all three pots together. There were several bright red tomatoes growing on the plants and a few green ones.
I put the mop away and filled a cup with water to water the plants. I did not see the stray towel on the ground, and I slipped.
The cup flew out of my hand and clattered onto the ground a few feet away. The water spilled all over my newly mopped floor, but that was not what horrified me the most.
I had knocked over the plants.
Two of the three plants had toppled over, the dark earth spilling onto the tiles of the kitchen floor. Bright red seeds spilled out onto the ground, crushed under my body weight.
I quickly scrambled backwards, ignoring where the metal trellis had cut open my arm. I pushed the plants up, horror filling my entire being as I saw where the main stem of the plants had snapped.
“No, no, no,” I whimpered, trying to put the stem back onto the plant. It just fell off limply again.
Tears filled my eyes. Jason is going to be so mad at you. You’re not helping him at all. You’re just causing him more trouble.
I sat by the plants for the rest of the day, cradling a bruised tomato in my hands. The sound of the front door opening made me jump to my feet. Jason was home.
“Hey, Dickie, I’m back!” The door shut. I heard Jason tossing his keys onto the counter by the doorway, and he took his coat and shoes off, in that order. I heard him toss his laptop bag onto the couch, and he finally started towards the kitchen. I braced myself for his arrival.
“Did you eat yet?” Jason asked as he walked in. He froze when he saw the plants.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. I could feel the tears burning the back of my eyes again. “I’m so sorry, Jason! I was- I was trying to water the plants, but I tripped and- and- I’m sorry, Jason!”
Jason walked over slowly. He slowly bent down, staring at the plants with a dazed expression. After a long time, he took a deep breath and forced a tight smile. “It’s okay,” he said.
“But you loved those plants!” I said, wiping at my eyes. “And- And I killed them…”
“It’s okay, Dick,” Jason said. He stood up and sighed. “They were… a present from my girlfriend. Ex. Ex-girlfriend,” he corrected with a silent wince. “We broke up a few months ago, and this is the only thing she let me keep.”
The dread grew inside me. I killed the only thing that he had left of his girlfriend. He must hate me now.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked.
Jason shook his head and gave me another fake smile. “I should… I should probably try getting over her anyway.” He forced a laugh. “They’re just tomato plants anyway, right?” He glanced at me. “What happened to your arm?”
I glanced down. It had not bled much, but there were smears of blood down my arm. I quickly hid it behind my back. “Oh, it’s nothing,” I said quickly. “I’ll go clean it as soon as I clean this up,” I said.
Jason nodded. “Okay,” he said. He glanced at the plants again. “Don’t… Don’t throw them away, please.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
He nodded. “I- I think I’m going to go take a shower and go straight to sleep tonight.”
I let my head drop. He can’t even stand to see you tonight. “Okay,” I said. “Good night, Jason.”
“Night, Dick.”
I did not move until I heard the shower start running. Then, I made quick work of scooping the dirt back up into the pots. I straightened the trellis and wiped my blood from the edges. I threw away the crushed tomatoes and quickly swept up the dirt I could not scoop up with my hands.
I took off the apron I had been wearing all day, folded it, and put it away. I washed my hands, watching as the red blood flowed down into the sink.
Then, I went back and sat in front of the tomato plants. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, putting my hands on the snapped stems of the delicate plants. My magic stirred within me.
Revive the plants, and Jason might forgive you. He’ll be happy when he wakes up the next morning and sees that his plants are alive again. You want to make Jason happy, don’t you?
I felt the magic rushing through my fingertips. The stems under my fingertips started sewing itself together again, stronger than ever. I felt tomatoes swelling and growing by my hands.
At the same time, my conscious was slipping. I opened my eyes with the last of my strength, and saw that the two plants were thriving once more, even stronger and healthier than the third, unharmed plant.
Then, the darkness slammed into me, and I collapsed onto the ground.