(A/N: Thanks for name suggestions. I used a few of them. All I can say is...poor Scourge.)
The Kits
Nightcloud stretched out across a wide purple sofa, staring at the television screen with a blank expression on her face. After enduring nearly two months of boredom and frustration, the queen was tired of doing almost nothing. "Scourge!" she cried loudly, nearly kicking over a can of Kitty-Cola as she swung her legs over the edge of the couch. "Get me to the hospital. NOW!"
A tiny black tom came scurrying out of the bedroom, dragging a vacuum cleaner along with him. "What's wrong?" he asked, worry showing in his amber eyes. "Are the kits coming?"
"They're going to be," Nightcloud growled, standing up slowly. "I'm sick of waiting around for them to get here. I want them born now!"
Scourge narrowed his eyes. "Your due date isn't for another week. You really should wait so we can make sure the kits are developed enough to survive."
The black she-cat glared at her mate. "My first litter was born early and Breezepelt's just fine!"
"But what happened to your other kits?" the tom asked. "I know you had more than one."
"Greencough happened," Nightcloud hissed, trying not to think about that memory. "It had nothing to do with them being born early."
Scourge sighed, knowing the she-cat would argue until she got her way. "Still, I think it would be better to wait. You know what Dr. Cinderpelt said about the importance of carrying kits to term."
Nightcloud rolled her eyes, pushing past her mate toward her bedroom to grab her purse. "Dr. Cinderpelt never had kits. What does she know?"
The tom hurried after her, planting himself in front of the doorway so Nightcloud couldn't enter the room. "Dr. Cinderpelt went to medical school. She's considered one of the best doctors in the feline world. I trust her judgment."
"Fine," the queen snapped. "If you won't take me to the hospital, I'll drive there myself!"
Scourge snorted, remembering Nightcloud's slew of traffic tickets and thinking the she-cat should have her license revoked. "You know that's not a good idea. You have a tendency to drive like a speed demon. That wouldn't be good for the kits, now would it?"
Nightcloud thrust her face into her mate's. "Either you drive or I get another ticket. We already owe Firestar's Police Force of Morality $3425 in traffic tickets. What's another $400?"
The small tom sighed heavily. "Fine. I'll drive- wait, how much do you owe?" Scourge's eyes widened as he realized what his mate had said. "I thought you only had five tickets!"
"It may have been more like fifteen," the she-cat mewed, not looking at her mate. "But that's not important right now. What's important is these kits being born and that's the end of it!"
Scourge paced madly outside the hospital room, glancing at a clock on the wall every thirty seconds. Dr. Cinderpelt had been in the room arguing with Nightcloud for over an hour now. What was taking them so long?
A young she-cat padded down the hospital corridor. Spying the nervous tom, the tortoiseshell cat strolled over tom him. "Can I help you?" she asked kindly.
"Yes. What's taking them so long?" Scourge asked, pointing to the closed door with his tail.
The she-cat glanced at the room number, then studied the clipboard she was carrying. "Hm…room 123…Nightcloud is demanding her kits be born early?"
The tom nodded. "That's my mate. Why haven't I heard anything? We've been here for almost two hours!"
The tortoiseshell nodded seriously. "I'll check for you." She pushed the door open and stuck her head inside. "Dr. Cinderpelt? I have a tom out here wondering if everything's alright."
"You can bring him in, Lilyheart," a voice replied. "We're through now."
Lilyheart turned back to Scourge, her eyes shining brightly. "Go ahead and see your family!"
The tom narrowed his eyes. The kits had been born? Why hadn't he been allowed in the room? As he padded into the hospital room, he saw Nightcloud holding a kit in her paws. A few other kits lay in little moss nests on a counter.
"Oh, Scurgy, aren't they adorable?" Nightcloud gushed.
Dr. Cinderpelt, who was scribbling something on a notepad, glanced up at the tom. "I would have let you in here to talk some sense into this mate of yours, but she insisted the kits be born and you'd only make her mad with your logic."
Scourge padded over to the mossy nests to see his kits. Including the one Nightcloud was holding, there were six newborns. The one in his mate's paws was solid black. Two more in the nests were black as well. Two of the kits were tortoiseshell with white chests, and the final kit was dark gray.
"That one looks like my mother," Scourge growled, pointing to the gray one with his tail.
"I know!" Nightcloud gushed. "She looks just like Quince, doesn't she?"
The tom studied the six infants with narrowed eyes. "Which ones are the toms? Who should we name Destruction, Demolition, and Terror? The she-cats will have to be Pain, Misery, and Suffering of course."
The black queen recoiled in horror at the names. "Oh Scurgy, we are not naming our children any of those! Besides, they're all she-cats."
"What?" Scourge gasped. "All six of them?"
"Yep," Nightcloud mewed. "Isn't that precious?"
The tom snorted. "And I'm guessing you've already given them all cutesy names?"
The she-cat nodded. "All except for the gray one. The black one I'm holding is Tutu. The ones in the nests are Hashtag and Lollipop. I named the tortoiseshell kits Sparkle and Shimmer."
"Those names are awful!" Scourge spat. "What about Devil? Dynamite? Death? Blood? Revenge?"
"I refuse to name any of my children those awful names!" Nightcloud growled. "You can name the gray one- but please give her a nice name."
The tom sighed, glaring at his mate. He turned toward the tiny gray kit and lifted her out of the nest. She squirmed a little bit, unhappy to be removed the warm nest. Scourge studied the kit intensely, wanting to choose a good name. Suddenly, a name came to him. It was the perfect name. "Her name is Misery from Pain and Suffering."