Dammit, Janet (Janet Drake, PG-13)
This is a fic inspired by me_ya_ri and the Snapshots AU. It's an amazing series that everybody should read. This follows the latest chapter: Visitation. This is posted with permission and a ton of love, though not for Janet. Janet's just twisted.
Title: Dammit, Janet
Fandom: DCU AU, Snapshots
Characters: Janet Drake, Tim Drake, Jack Drake and mentions of That Wayne
Word Count: 829 (Wow, way more than I thought)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Really Bad Parenting, Sociopathic Behavior
Disclaimer: I don't own, I'm just borrowing them.
Synopsis: Janet Drake considers her day.
Author's Notes: Like I said, this is meant to follow Snapshots: Visitation
Betrayal. That’s what it was, plain and simple. Janet Drake paced the floor of her living room, stalking the room like a panther caged, occasionally sparing a glare at the television. Wayne had apparently managed to manipulate the media into taking his side in this ridiculous situation. How dare they imply that she was not a fit parent? Timothy had everything necessary to ensure that he grew into a suitable heir for Jack. Janet even held the hope that he would have more backbone than his father could ever hope to; although Tim did show repeated signs of a pathetic level of neediness. She concluded that it was caused by a mixture of Jack’s weakness and those simpering nurses and housekeepers who insisted on babying the boy.
How dare that ungrateful little brat refuse to come home with her? She’d been thinking that Timothy was in a susceptible state and that Wayne was manipulating him, but the way he looked at her… this was definitely Tim’s doing. Janet was starting to doubt the boy had lost his memory at all, this whole thing was probably just another ridiculous attempt to garner attention. Janet scoffed as the TV showed a few socialites remarking on how cold and distant she was. They made it sound like a bad thing. She was strong and she always got her way. If there was anything more important in life, she had never found it.
That was how Timothy was raised. She didn’t believe that coddling the boy would do anything other than soften him. She had no use for a soft, simpering, emotional boy. Timothy knew his place. She’d made certain that he learned his purpose and standing while he was young. He knew what he was supposed to do and had always been given the means to do it. He was provided with the best education, books, and training that money could buy. She had been so sure that he was going to become exactly what she had intended for him to be- smart, self-sufficient, and with a little luck he would be ruthless as well. Perhaps they had pampered him too much. Always indulging his whims. Clearly he had taken their charity for granted. She had suspected the camera was a mistake, photography didn’t have any practical application for his rise to power (unless he was learning the art of blackmail). Did Timothy think that because they were willing to provide him the things he wanted that they were weak enough to bow to these pathetic attempts to leech their time? When they regained custody she’d definitely make sure that he learned their charity was not to be taken for granted. What she gave she could just as easily revoke.
Jack was sitting on couch looking a disgusting shade of green. Janet had to suppress the urge to slap the tears out of his eyes. She would not allow him to fall apart over this. If Timothy was making a plea for attention, he had succeeded. He now had their attention. The fact that he would take such drastic means to attain it almost inspired pride in her at the fact that he would do anything, absolutely anything to get what he wanted. Although, this certainly lacked… finesse. However, the fact that he was so desperate to obtain their attention in the first place meant that he was far too needy to ever be able to earn her pride.
Janet took a long drink of Scotch and contemplated the possibility that this had nothing to do with attention. Maybe Timothy was more ambitious than she had anticipated. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if he was trying to prove neglect so he could sue for “emotional damage” and take early possession of the family fortune? A move like that could be admired and, were it not her fortune he was after, encouraged. Not that any son of hers would want, need, or accept encouragement. Timothy knew he should be stronger than that. If this was an attempt at a coup, he was a much better actor than she knew. At least it would mean that he wasn’t a total disappointment and waste of time.
She switched off the television and ordered Jack to bed. Apparently this situation wasn’t going to be resolved as easily as she had believed. Rest was in order. As she climbed the stairs to her bedroom she reminded herself to look into the extent of Timothy’s injuries tomorrow. She should see if there was anything permanent in the head trauma, a proper heir had to be able to take over the family business. If his little excursion had in any way affected his ability to produce an heir he might be useless to them anyway. The last thought she had as she climbed into bed and turned out the light was how much she dreaded having to start all over with a new child. Children really are more trouble than they’re worth.