Compiled Kitten!Au - With Part 3
“B!” Nightwing called, voice loaded with concern, drawing the older man’s attention. Batman swiftly walked over to see what he needed. The man just gestured at the pile of gear on the dirty floor of the warehouse.
A red helmet sat innocently atop a haphazard mess of weapons and clothing.
Splatters of blood dotted the area around them. He’d been injured. Batman knelt, examining the floor, the dust. A tendril of relief flowed through him as he spotted one tiny red paw print among the blood.
“Find him.” He growled to his partner.
In an instant, a black wolf stood in Nightwing’s place and he began scenting the air, determined to find his missing brother. They might be at odds right now, but they still wanted him safe. Still wanted to make sure he was okay. The wolf trotted off around the room and through the far door.
The corner of Batman’s mouth twitched as a feline warning growl reached his ears. Nightwing yipped to let him know where they were at. He heard a hiss and a more snarling. Batman strode around the corner to find that his oldest had cornered Jason.
God, would he ever get used to the sight of his second son’s tiny animal form?
The red-spotted cat was backed into the corner, curled protectively around an injured back paw. Even with all his fur standing on end he was barely as large as one of Bruce’s hands. Dick stood easily, tail gently wagging as he gazed at the kitten.
Batman sighed. “Bring him here, Nightwing.”
That elicited a hiss of his own but an amused wuff from his eldest. Quickly, but ever so gently, Dick scruffed Jason, causing the cat to instinctively curl, before trotting over to Bruce.
Pitiful green eyes gazed balefully at his father and Batman had a difficult time not smiling. He’d always adored his second son’s form. He carefully took the kitten from Dick and, before he could dart away, began to rub his ears and neck.
Unwillingly - he could tell - Jason melted in his arms, grudgingly beginning to purr.
“C’mon, Jaylad. Let’s get that leg looked at.”
______________________________
Jason mewed pathetically as Leslie gently probed the wound on his leg. In human form, he would fight himself tooth and nail before showing discomfort or pain but Bruce and Dick knew that his tiny kitten form had a tiny pain tolerance to go with it.
One of Nightwing’s slender fingers gently caressed a small ear in comfort. It was a testament to how he was feeling that Jason rose up into his hand rather than shying away; seeking contact rather than hissing or biting.
“It’s okay, little wing.” He soothed. “It’ll be over soon.”
It was. The wound, while proportionately large on such a small frame, (Dick winced to think about what it might have looked like on Jay’s human form) only required a couple of quick stitches from the doctor.
They’d have done it themselves but this needed a more… delicate hand than any of them possessed and they were too long from the Cave to get Alfred.
Soon enough they had him bundled back into the Batmobile. Dick tried to take him, only to be shooed away as Bruce gently tucked Jason into the crook of his elbow. He poorly hid a smirk as the kitten fell asleep, exhausted from pain and fear and who knows what else.
They knew it was going to be a stressful few weeks, trying to keep an eye on him. They couldn’t even begin trying to coach him into changing back until his leg healed. It would rupture the stitches.
It had always stressed Bruce out when Jason was in cat form; he was so easy to lose or hurt. He was adorable but it came at a cost. It was also why they would have to coach him to begin with. Jason hated his form, he never spent time in it or learned how to control it or his own instincts and emotions while as a cat.
Dick crossed his fingers, hoping for a smooth few weeks but knowing it was going to be anything but.
______________________________
Jay was obviously feeling better. Bruce rolled his eyes as the cat shot him a smug look before knocking yet another item off the bookshelf in his office. He was also tired of being hidden away in Bruce’s office.
If it wasn’t one of the cutest fucking things he’d ever seen, he’d be annoyed. Instead, it was only amusing. It wasn’t like he could cause a huge amount of damage anyway and Jason stayed away from the meaningful items.
It helped that his leg kept him from jumping to the higher shelves where those were located.
“Jason, it’s only another week until the stitches come out. Relax.”
A feline growl met his words and he stifled a chuckle.
“Come and nap in your box and I’ll make sure Alfred has quail for dinner.” Jason’s tail flicked back and forth a moment before he carefully leapt down from the shelf, gingerly landing on his uninjured legs.
As he crept towards Bruce’s desk, the door to the office flung open and Damian came flying in, “Father!”
Jason jumped and hissed, startling both of them.
Damian looked intrigued, his previous line of thought forgotten, “That’s a Rusty-Spotted Cat. From Sri Lanka. Father, why do you have one?” A small hand darted out and scooped up Jason before he could bolt. Despite his position, he still growled and hissed at the boy.
Unperturbed, Damian cooed and cuddled the kitten in his arms, stroking his head and spine; shamelessly manipulating feline biology. In seconds he had his older brother - not that he knew it - purring.
What was adorable was listening to Jason try to growl and purr at the same time. That was adorable. Bruce pretended to send a text message and took several pictures instead.
Bruce quirked a brow. Well, he could be honest, but Jason had sworn the three of them - Dick, himself, and Alfred - to secrecy about his form as a kid and he wasn’t willing to risk it.
“He doesn’t have one.” The growl/purr struggle increased. He should record this. Purely for posterity, of course. “Why don’t you name him?”
Damian looked at him a moment before declaring, “I shall call him Hannibal! Though, he’s so small for his species. Is he full grown?”
Jason was gonna hurt himself if he kept trying to sound dangerous.
“Perhaps if we feed him he’ll grow more.” The boy mused.
The growling abruptly stopped. Bruce couldn’t hold in his chuckle.
