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It began on patrol, because of course it did. Most things did, it happened too frequently to be a mere coincidence.
Damian had dropped down into an alley to assess a murder which, given the possessions scattered across the concrete, appeared to have started out as a mugging. As he began his assessment, following the procedure that all Gotham-based vigilantes were taught, a peculiar sound made it to his ears. It sounded like a balloon that was leaking air from a pin-sized puncture.
As he repositioned the lady to proceed with his assessment, he found the source of the sound: a tiny ball of what he believed to be blue-gray fluff upon first glance, but was in fact a kitten. A kitten who had darker fur around their ears and down around their eyes.
Damian pulled out a small handful of kibble for the kitten out of a pocket in his utility belt. He carried kibble on him while out on patrol for this exact reason, Gotham had too many stray cats lurking around her streets for him to not.
He left the scene of the mugging-turned-murder and the kitten to their meal, he was going to be late to the rendezvous point if he didn’t leave when he did.
The next night, Damian saw the kitten again. And again, he left some kibble for them. It repeated the night after that, and the night after that.
Until one night. Those who were rostered on for patrol (Damian, Dick, and Cass) were on their way to meet up at that night’s decided rendezvous point of the Batmobile.
Damian was the first to arrive, as usual. All thoughts of his father’s and sibling’s tardiness were forgotten when he caught sight of a now-familiar ball of blue-gray fur. The kitten was fast asleep on top of the hood of the Batmobile.
He had a dilemma: there was no way that he could leave them sleeping there, they would slide off and certainly be squished under the wheels when they moved the vehicle; but Father had told him no more pets.
As he stared at the tiny kitten, he made his mind up. What Father didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
Sunbird carefully scooped the kitten (who he had dubbed Batman in his head, because of the markings on their face) into his hands and tucked them into the folds of his cape before he unlocked and climbed inside the Batmobile. Claiming shotgun as Cass was not yet here to ‘fight’ him for it.
Damian was careful not to wake Batman the Kitten on the drive back to the manor by jostling them too much. Soon enough he was back in his room, having stashed Batman the Kitten in his locker down in the Cave while he showered Gotham’s own kind of perfume off.
The kitten was awake now and seemed to be hungry, seeing how noisy they were being. Damian sought to rectify that, so he first went to go find Alfred the Cat before continuing his journey to the kitchen, specifically the pantry. The pantry, where the cat food was kept.
Batman the Kitten needed a more substantial meal than just kibble but it was the best that he could do for now, without telling anyone about a second cat’s existence within the manor.
When Damian and Alfred the Cat returned to the human’s room, Batman the Kitten was where he had left them but there were now two more cats sitting next to them; One was a Bombay and the other was an Abyssinian.
How had they gotten into his room? His window was shut and locked…but he had left his door open, meaning that they had to have been already inside the manor and simply found their way into his room specifically.
The more that Damian watched, the more it appeared that the Bombay and the Abyssinian already knew the kitten.
Instead of kicking the other two out, he decided to just leave them be. They had more than enough money to feed three more cats.
Oh, and he had already named the two newcomers (because he wouldn’t allow them to remain here without some kind of designation). The Abyssinian was now named Timothy and the Bombay had been named Cassandra.
He had certainly not named them after his siblings, not at all, why would you ever even think that? He most certainly had; the two cats matched his siblings so well that he would be a fool not to name them in honour.
Two days later…
It was ten A.M. and Tim was on his way to the kitchen to make himself more coffee (he still didn’t understand why they did not let him have a coffee maker in his room) when Alfred the Cat ran past him.
Or, at least he thought it was? Didn’t Alfred the Cat have some white fur on the end of his tail and paws?
Said cat had already disappeared around the corner by the time he had the time to develop the thought. Tim shrugged, he was probably wrong. If he was, it wouldn’t be the first time that he was wrong about one of Damian’s pets.
That evening, Damian was on his way back to his room with food for the two cats and one kitten.
So far, neither of the cats had taken the chance to leave, despite the fact that he had not done anything to stop them from doing so. As he was feeding three adult cats (the jury was still out about Timothy the Cat being fully grown), he needed more food than he had for just Alfred the Cat.
Speaking of Alfred the Cat, when he had first introduced said cat to the newcomers, he had been worried that he wouldn’t like their presence. Instead, Alfred the Cat simply made a bee-line for Batman the Kitten and plopped himself down right beside the kitten, almost on top of them.
As he ascended the staircase, he passed Cass. Of the rest of his family, his older sister would notice that something was up as he was carrying the bag of cat food rather than simply one bowl of it.
‘Are cats named?’ Cass signed to him. The question caught him, she already knew?
“Yes, of course, I have named them,” Damian told her, recovering slower than he should have.
Cass made a slight questioning motion with her head, her version of “oh?”
“The kitten is named Batman,” he refused to meet her eyes as he spoke.
Nevertheless, he continued, “The Abyssinian — the orange-coloured one — is named Timothy and the Bombay—”
‘The black one?’
“Yes. The black one is named Cassandra,” Damian blushed. Why was he embarrassed?
Instead of laughing at him for his sentimentality, Cass’ face split into a wide, happy smile.
‘Put the bag down’ she told him, randomly. He did as she requested, although very confused. As soon as the cat food bag was safely on the stair by his feet, Cass hurried forward and wrapped him in a hug. His confusion continued.
Cass pulled away not long after she had initiated the hug.
‘Thank you’ she thanked before she continued on her way. Damian felt oddly, somewhat childishly proud of himself for his naming endeavours as he too continued on his way to feed his newest pets.