Archive of Our Own ^beta

There was a cat in the Hall of Justice. 

He was a severe-looking tomcat with sleek black fur and piercing yellow eyes. The only interruption to his dark coat was a multitude of scars that showed off just how many fights he’d been in in the past, and a white splotch on his chest, vaguely shaped like a bat.

No one knew where he’d come from. Most of the heroes assumed that he was the pet of a minor hero, someone who only visited the Hall occasionally. The time it took for them to realize this wasn’t true was prolonged by the fact that the cat seemed to disappear at random intervals, never staying around for long.

By the time they came to the realization that he wasn’t simply someone's pet who had a habit of wandering off, it’d been more than a month since the cat had started showing up. It hadn’t done anything more malicious than knocking the receptionist’s mugs off the counter, so there’d been an unspoken decision to leave him be. It wasn’t causing any harm, and many of the employees had already grown attached to the scarred tomcat.

If he were a shapeshifter with malicious intent, he would have done something by now. J’onn said he wasn’t able to sense any thoughts from it beyond what was typical for a cat. So it was determined that he must just be a stray that had managed to slip inside one day, and decided the Hall of Justice was a nice place to visit. 

To be fair to the cat, the large windows in the entrance hall of the Hall of Justice let in a lot of sun in the morning, warming the smooth marble floors. It wasn’t uncommon to find the cat sprawled out in the corner of the smooth floors, his black coat soaking up the sun’s rays like a sponge.

It didn’t take long after that for the cat to be named Bat after the marking on his chest, and for the Justice League to gain an unofficial mascot.

SuperStan @SuperStan13

My class had a field trip to the hall of justice this morning. We saw a random? cat?? Just hanging out in the reception hall? What’s up with that

[Photo ID: A picture of the shadowy corner of a room with a marble floor and white walls. A blurry black shape is tucked into the corner, and you can just barely make out a tail, two ears, and a pair of yellow eyes staring straight at the camera]

>Mothman is Real and I Have Proof @cryptidenthusiast

Creepy…. 😬

>>SuperStan @SuperStan13

No, it’s not creepy. The Void is simply staring back at you 🖤

>>>Mothman is Real and I Have Proof @cryptidenthusiast

Bro, look at those eyes. It’s creepy asf

>Read Bio for Comm Info @Drawing_Heroes_Daily

Should you be taking random pictures in the HoJ? The cat could be someone with shapeshifting powers like Beast Boy. Taking their picture without asking would be pretty rude if so

>>SuperStan @SuperStan13

I don’t think so? It was just acting like a regular cat. I wanted to pet him so bad but I didn’t just in case he actually was a hero lol

>Man of Steel @Superman_Offical ✔️

That’s Bat! He’s a stray that started hanging out around the hall a while ago and just decided to never leave. As far as we know, he’s just a regular cat!

>>SuperStan @SuperStan13

Superman responded to my post?? Hello? Sir I’m your biggest fan.

>>Mothman is Real and I Have Proof @cryptidenthusiast

What do you mean “as far as you know?” And why’s the cat so blurry in that picture? The rest of the picture is clear?

>>>Man of Steel @Superman_Offical ✔️

Bat is just like that

>>>>SuperStan @SuperStan13

Thank you, Superman, sir, that clears up nothing!

Mothman is Real and I Have Proof @cryptidenthusiast

This just in: the Justice League has a new mascot: a bat-cat-cryptid-thing that just? Showed up one day? And then never left??

>SuperStan @SuperStan13

Omg, just because there’s a creepy blurry picture of something doesn’t mean it’s a cryptid 🙄

“I think that cat that hangs around might have a cold.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, I was waiting for Green Arrow in the entry hall, and he was sitting all creepy in the corner-”

“He’s not creepy just because he’s a black cat! They aren’t actually bad luck, you know?  That’s just superstition.”

“No, yeah, I know that. I love black cats. I used to have one when I was little. I know black cats can be just as sweet as other cats. I’m only saying Bat in particular is a little creepy. The way he hangs out in dark corners and stares at you like he’s being paid to do it?”

“Okay, I can see your point.”

“Yeah. Anyways, I was standing there, and he kept making this weird hacking, humming sound? Like ‘Hnn, Hnn,’ you know?”

“Oh, no, I think that’s actually just how he meows.”

“Really? That’s weird.”

“Ehh, yeah. But all cats are weird, and as you’ve already pointed out, Bat’s a little stranger than most. I’ve never actually heard him meow like a normal cat. It’s always that little humming noise.”

“... Well, now that I know he’s not sick, I gotta say that’s honestly adorable.”

“Don’t let him hear you call him cute, or he’ll steal your soul.”

“Haha. He’s a cat, he doesn’t understand English.”

“With the way he stares, sometimes it feels like he definitely understands.”

Someone had stocked the fountain in front of the Hall of Justice with goldfish. No one owned up to it, but neither did anyone complain, especially not after a video taken by one of the younger heroes made the rounds around the hero community. 

The video showed Bat crouching perfectly still on the edge of the pool, his only movement being his eyes flickering back and forth to follow the fish. Then a black paw suddenly darts out with extended claws, and the fish Bat had been watching was scooped out of the water. A bite delivered swift death to the wriggling fish before it could flop back into the water. Then Bat picks up his prize and trots away, presumably to find a private place to eat his meal.

There was some concern that Arthur might be offended by the cat eating the fish, but he quickly dismissed the notion. 

“Cats are predators that eat fish.” He started with an uncaring shrug when the Flash asked him about it. “Many creatures in the ocean eat fish. It’s perfectly natural.”

After that, the fountain remained fully stocked at all times, no matter how many fish “mysteriously” disappeared every time Bat would visit the Hall.

“Did you see that Bat has a kitten now?”

“I did! I’ve been calling it Robin. Cute little thing.”

“Why Robin?”

“Bat had caught a robin and was feeding it to the kitten when I first saw them together.”

“Oh. That's… gruesome.”

“Yeah, but it’s still a cute name!”

“I guess.”

A sharp yelp from the other side of the meeting room had Diana whipping around at the sound. She relaxed when all she saw was Hal, scowling and clutching at a bleeding hand. 

His shout of “The damn cat bit me!” had Diana relaxing completely. Looking downwards toward the floor, she found the culprit. Bat was crouched on the floor, fur puffed up and ears pinned as far back as they could go. His fangs were bared in a silent hiss. 

Diana looked back up and arched a brow at Hal. “Were you trying to pet him again? You know he hates that.” 

“No, he just hates me,” Hal protested. “I swear he’s hated me ever since I stepped on his tail. He’s holding a grudge!” 

There was a familiar whoosh of displaced air while Hal was talking, and suddenly Barry was next to them, a wrapped breakfast sandwich in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other. He handed the coffee to Diana, receiving a grateful thanks in return. 

Then Barry turned to Hal, rolling his eyes. He’d clearly put together what happened from what he’d heard Hal say and the pilot's bleeding hand. “He’s a cat, Hal. He’s not some mastermind plotting your demise.” 

Barry watched as Bat’s fur slowly smoothed back down. The cat’s intense yellow eyes remained fixed on Hal though, unblinking and unwavering.

“Oh, come on,” Hal complained, not meeting the cat’s stare. “It’s not like he likes you any more than he does me.”

“He definitely likes me better. The only reason he runs away from me is because suddenly appearing somewhere you weren’t before or running around at my speed tends to scare animals.”

“Whatever,” Hal scoffed. “I’m going to go get a bandaid, and probably a rabies shot. I bet that damn cat’s infected.” The last part of his statement was aimed at Bat, who only made his strange little ‘Hn’ sound, and then stalked away to curl up in Superman's as-of-yet unoccupied chair. 

Diana turned to Barry after Hal left, taking a sip of her coffee. “Sometimes it feels like Hal forgets that Bat is just an animal, and can’t understand him.” 

Barry shrugged, unwrapping his breakfast sandwich. “I dunno, Diana, Bat acts so human-like sometimes that it’s easy to forget.”

“Oh, look, it’s Robin! Weird to see him out and about without Bat hovering over him.”

“That’s not Robin? Robin is bigger than that one. Greyish blue tabby, with cream color across his chest and down his front legs?”

“No? Robin is that brown cat with the weirdly bright red chest, head, and front legs?”

“What are you two talking about? That one right there is Robin. He’s a brown tabby with white socks and white belly. I’ve never seen a cat around here that looks like either of those descriptions. ”

“...”

“Wait…”

“…Oh no.”

It took a long while for the naming problem to get sorted out. Apparently, there were multiple kittens that had taken to following Bat around, but they’d never shown up at the same time, leading different members of the Justice League and the staff at the Hall of Justice to think that the one that they’d seen was the aforementioned “Robin.” 

The only one who seemed unperturbed by the situation was Alfred, an elderly British receptionist and one of the only people Bat tolerated physical affection from. 

Most of the kittens needed new names, since they couldn't very well all be named Robin. The largest one, a grayish blue tabby with a cream belly and front legs, was dubbed Nightwing by Superman, named after an ancient Kryptonian legend. 

The second largest- which clearly was one of those rare animals that had some sort of meta gene, given the startling fire engine red color of his head and chest, and his glowing green eyes- was named for his distinctive red coloration, and was called Red Hood. 

The smallest one ended up being called Red Robin when someone got confused and mashed up Red Hood’s name with the name the cats had previously shared. By the time people realized they’d been given such similar names, it was too late and the names stuck. Especially since Red Robin actually responded to his name. It was an unusual show of intelligence from a cat, but all of the cats that visited the Hall of Justice were unusual in one way or another.

“Naming them in such a similar manner will lead to confusion and misunderstandings,” J’onn pointed out, while being locked in a staring contest with Bat. 

Clark shrugged carefully so as to not disturb Nightwing, who was perched on his shoulder. “Well, they’re cats. It’s not like they’ll mind.”

“My dear boy, I know the computer keyboard is warm, but would you mind not sleeping on it?”

‘Hn.’

“I see. If I were to order you a heating pad, would you be willing to stop sleeping there?”

‘Hnnn.’ 

“...”

‘Mrrrrp!’ 

The sound of a cat jumping up from the floor and landing on the reception desk with a light thump accompanied an exasperated sigh from Alfred. “Red Robin! Not you as well, young sir!”

“Mmrrrr.”

Neither cat seemed to care about the elderly receptionist’s despair. They curled up together on the computer’s keyboard, and managed to type ‘hggsgS;/’ooooop’[kL:FGkek de/////#$I($(rn’ into the document that was open on the computer. 

Alfred sighed.

There was something horribly wrong with Red Hood. 

No one knew what had happened to him, but he had entered the Hall early in the morning, limping so badly he was nearly dragging one of his legs behind him. He made a beeline toward the front desk, where Alfred had just come in for his shift, and curled up underneath it. 

After he collapsed under the front desk, he did not rise again. He only lay there breathing heavily, each inhale he took sounding like a rattling wheeze. 

Bat hovered near his kitten, hissing and swiping at anyone who dared try to touch Hood, let alone pick him up. Even Alfred wasn’t allowed near the younger cat. This more than anything gave the observers a clue to how badly Hood was hurt, given how tolerant Bat usually was of the older man.

It eventually took Superman’s invulnerable skin to remove Hood from Bat’s protection in order to get the kitten to a vet. 

Bat yowled for hours after Red Hood was taken away, before finally seeming to give up. He slunk out of the Hall of Justice, and neither he nor any of his kittens were seen again for three days.

When Bat finally reappeared in the Hall, it was with clear reluctance.  He slunk into the Hall, following Red Robin as the younger cat trotted in, as confidently as he ever had. In contrast to Red Robin, Bat seemed incredibly wary, crouching in the shadows while still remaining as close as he could to his kitten. 

Red Robin seemed to ignore Bat’s disapproving grunts at his actions, and ducked away from the older cat the few times he tried to grab Red Robin’s scruff. 

When Red Robin left the entrance hall to go further into the building, Bat was even more reluctant to follow. He stayed crouched at the doorway to the more private, off-limit areas of the Hall of Justice, meowing after his kitten. When Red Robin didn’t return, Bat turned and slunk right back outside, still clearly unhappy. 

Bat started to return of his own accord after that, but his appearances in the Hall of Justice were much rarer than before Red Hood’s accident. 

He’d taken to ignoring Clark, which was better than attempting to outright attack him like he had when Clark had taken Red Hood away. But he still started hissing when the man approached Bat or his kittens. 

On one memorable occasion, Bat even tried to carry his kittens away from Clark. Red Robin was squirreled away first, taken out of Clark’s sight. Then Bat returned for Nightwing. Bat wasn’t quite as successful when he tried to pick up Nightwing, who was almost full-grown by now and too big for Bat to effectively haul around. 

It would be a funny sight if Clark didn’t know the reason behind Bat’s overprotective actions. A pervasive sense of guilt haunted him, even if he knew he had to do it for Hood’s own good.

He wished he could communicate with Bat, and tell him why it had been necessary for him to take Red Hood away. It hurt that the animal Clark had grown so attached to might believe that Clark would hurt his babies.

Hopefully, Bat would forgive Clark once Hood was returned, maybe a little worse for wear but still alive.

It took two and a half weeks for Red Hood to be well enough to return to the Hall of Justice. The vet’s office that Clark had taken him to was simply the closest one to the Hall. It was a small family-owned practice, with a father and daughter pair- Ra’s and Talia al Ghul- being the two practicing doctors. 

When Clark got the call that Hood was ready to be picked up, he didn’t hesitate to rush over the very next morning to pick him up. Talia greeted him in the front of the office and showed him to the back, where Red Hood was waiting in his cage.

“I’m a little surprised how well he managed to recover,” she told him. “You said you didn’t know what happened to him, but it's not unusual for people to hit an animal and then keep on driving, unfortunately. That’s likely what happened to him. He was very lucky that you were able to bring him in when you did, Mr. Kent. I doubt he would have survived much longer.”

She left to go grab him a cat carrier, since Clark didn’t actually have one. (He thought of the increasing number of cats roaming the Hall of Justice recently, and resolved to buy a cat carrier to keep at the Hall.)

As he waited, sticking a finger through the bars for Hood to sniff- and ignoring the way the cat bit him- Clark looked around the room. There were a few cats in the other cages. They all looked plump and well-groomed, clearly beloved family pets. None of them looked badly injured, and none of them were in as bad shape as Hood had been in.

What really caught his eye was the cage directly above Hood’s. At first, Clark thought it was empty, and the blankets and food bowl just hadn't been cleaned out from its previous inhabitant. 

A tiny mewl from the cage corrected that assumption. With a quick flash of his x-ray vision, Clark saw the form of a tiny kitten hidden under the blanket. It was squirming around as if trying to nuzzle into the warmth of the blanket, and Clark’s initial response was to melt at the sight.

Clark wondered what was wrong with the kitten. It wouldn’t be at a veterinarian's office if there was nothing wrong with it. He wasn't a vet, but even he could tell the poor thing was skinnier than it should be.

Talia soon returned, cutting off Clark’s worries. “Hmm. Is Robin moving around? That’s good.”

Clark let out a startled laugh. “Robin?”

Talia raised an eyebrow pointedly towards the clipboard on the front of the kitten's cage, which had the name ROBIN written across it in bold font. “That’s his name.”

“Oh, sorry, I know a few other cats who were named that, I just thought it was a funny coincidence.”

Talia hummed in acknowledgement, but in a tone that indicated she also didn’t care very much. Clark thought that was fair. She was a very no-nonsense woman, and he didn’t think she would care much about tales from his personal life.

As she opened Red Hood’s cage, expertly grabbed him before he had a chance to escape, and maneuvered him into the carrier, she told Clark about Robin. “He was brought in two days ago. The person who found him couldn’t find his mother anywhere.”

“He looks very skinny,” Clark said hesitantly. He wasn’t an expert after all, and pointing out a cat’s medical problem to a vet seemed cocky, but Talia only nodded.

“He’s barely old enough to be eating solid food, but he keeps refusing it. It’s leading to failure to thrive. He needs more focused and consistent care than what we can give him.” Talia shook her head in regret. 

Clark hesitated at the thought that came into his head, but only for a second. “You know what, I think I might have a solution…”

Talia hummed with approval as she filled out the last of the paperwork needed to hand the two cat carriers over into Clark’s care. 

“If you have any further issues, don’t hesitate to come back in.”

“Thank you,” Clark smiled at Talia in an expression that was much closer to his real smile than the beaming grin he put on as Superman. Despite her brisk attitude, it was clear she truly cared about the animals that were brought to her.

Red Hood’s return was unceremonious.

The cat was tucked into a carrier supplied by Talia, and carried back into the reception hall by Clark, who was now dressed as Superman. 

It was still early in the morning, and the only other people there were the receptionist- not Alfred this time, but a new hire Clark hadn't gotten to know yet- and Impulse, who was playing with Red Robin, flicking a bit of string around for the kitten to chase. The rest of the cats were either outside or deeper in the building.

Clark set the carrier down near Red Robin and Impulse, who stopped what he was doing to zoom over, happy to see Red Hood back again. Clark smiled at the young hero and flicked open the carrier's latch, releasing Red Hood into the Hall.

No one could have predicted how poorly the cat’s return would go.

Not an hour after Clark left the vet, he was running back with Red Robin, who was now the one curled up in the carrier, covered in scratches and bite marks courtesy of Red Hood.

Red Hood himself had disappeared out the front door, not to be seen for the next month.

Robin, on the other hand, seemed to grow attached to Bat as quickly as Clark had predicted he would, accepting the fish Bat brought him from the fountain to eat. 

Diana couldn’t wipe the frown from her face as she observed the scene taking place in the entrance hall. Red Hood was sitting on the receptionist’s desk while ignoring Alfred. He was glaring at where Bat was crouched by the front door with a strength of emotion Diana had never seen from a cat before, and frankly hadn’t previously thought a regular cat could express. Bat was returning the glare, ears pinned back.

“This can’t be normal,” she remarked to Clark, who was standing next to her, looking stressed. She could relate. She had to admit that out of all the cats that roamed the Hall of Justice, she had a special fondness for Red Hood. Seeing him acting so out of character and aggressive toward those he had been so friendly with before was distressing.

“The vet said that it wasn’t unusual. Feline non-recognition syndrome, she called it. For some reason, Hood’s brain just can’t connect the other cats to the ones he knew before he was separated from them for a while.”

“Is there any way to fix it?”

Clark shrugged helplessly. “She said all you can really do is wait and see. Either he’ll get over it, or he won’t.”

Barry did a double-take when he saw Bat sitting on the meeting table, Robin crouched behind him, batting at the older cat’s flicking tail. “What’s he doing here?” he asked, somewhat nonsensically. 

“What do you mean?” J’onn asked as Bat’s head swiveled around so he could stare at Barry, as if he knew he was being discussed. Robin stopped playing with Bat’s tail when he noticed the other cat’s attention had shifted, and also sat up to stare at Barry too. “This is not the first time he has decided to sit in on one of our meetings.”

“Well, yeah,” Barry spluttered, still looking confused. “But I swear I just saw him out in the front hall.” In a faint crackle of lightning, Barry disappeared, only to reappear in a flash a few seconds later. 

“Look!” He insisted, showing his phone which was open to the camera app. The picture showed a slightly blurry photo of the space under the reception desk. J’onn leaned forward, scrutinizing the image. On further inspection, he could see the form of a black cat tucked into the shadows under the desk, yellow eyes shining in the flash of the phone camera.

“How is he here and out in the front hall at the same time?”

“Clearly, he cannot be,” J’onn pointed out. “It must be a different cat, then. Perhaps Bat has adopted another kitten?”

“One just as spooky as Spooky himself, apparently,” Hal laughed as he peeked over Barry’s shoulder at the picture. “It blends right into the shadows just like Spooky does.”

Black Bat became a common visitor to the Hall, getting along with the other cats seamlessly- besides Red Hood, who was still aggressive towards everyone to some extent, though it had calmed down since he had attacked Red Robin upon his return from the Vet. 

She looked incredibly similar to Bat, the only difference between the two was the fact that Black Bat was smaller than Bat was. Often, the only way to tell which cat was which was to see them side by side and see which one was bigger. 

Her similar appearance earned her a name that was equally similar. Much like Robin, Red Robin, and Red Hood, it inevitably led to slight confusion, but no one seemed to care, and the name stuck.

According to the rumor mill, Black Bat was often seen outside the Hall of Justice with two unfamiliar cats, a golden long-haired cat and a ginger cat with a green collar, though neither of the unfamiliar cats ever ventured inside the Hall of Justice.

“Did you see earlier in the entrance hall, Red Hood was letting Bat groom him?”

“Really? That’s great!”

“Honestly, he didn’t look too happy about it, but he seemed to take a liking to the little Robin so he was putting up with it for him.”

“Pfft, well, that’s one way to cure his anger problems. Just throw a little sibling at him.”

“Oh dear.” Alfred blinked as he looked under his desk. Finding a cat curled up on or under the reception desk was no longer an unusual sight- hadn't been for a while now- but this was a bit unusual.

“Hn.”

“And who is this fine young man?”

The dark brown and tan kitten looked up at him with golden eyes that glowed so strongly they lit up the entire area under the desk. If Alfred didn’t know any better, he would say that Bat looked disgruntled at the fact that there were no shadows to lurk in.

“Another one? Where on earth are you finding all of them?”

“Hnn.”

“Wait, so, how many kittens does Bat actually have?”

“Um…”