Chapter Text
Timothy Jackson Drake stared blankly into the limo’s carpeted flooring. Three moments before they were at the circus. Then there was the “accident” that Tim was certain was not an accident. Not with how his mom reacted. Her hushed and harsh words floated around his small head as he tried to and failed to block out the memory. The poor Graysons. They didn’t deserve that. Why would this ever happen? How could someone–
“Timmy?” Janet Drake gently got his attention, she continued when he looked up, “your Father and I are going to an emergency meeting. Ms. Mac should be at the house. Be good and behave for her?” Janet gave him a small but genuine smile as he nodded. He was confused again. Dad wasn’t even on the phone. How would they know that they had an emergency meeting? Who told them? Maybe they were giving the emergency meeting and didn’t want him to hear what it was about.
But why?
They were never against him hearing their phone calls. Especially if it was about the company. Unless it wasn’t. But what else would they be having a meeting about? It’s not company based, and it's definitely not a family meeting, and it’s right after the–
The “Accident.” The event was now filed away as an Important Event in Tim’s memories as he digested the information storming in his mind. What were Mom and Dad a part of that didn't include him? Why was this the first time he heard of this? Was this the first time they’ve done this? What puzzle piece was Tim missing? He said nothing as he stood next to Ms. Mac, watching his parents drive away. He wasn’t sad as he watched. No, he was excited. He had some searching to do.
Janet knew her son was smart. For a four year old, he surpassed his peers by a good two to three years. This scared her more than she would ever care to openly admit. Having been the same, her childhood was not one she wished to share a likeness with her son. Of course, she was confident that he already had half the story, but if her husband keeps his mouth shut then Timmy won’t know about the Court of Owls. At least outside of hearing the poem. The only decision Jack has ever made known of his disagreement but still did as he was asked.
She sighs as she watches the city fly by. Leaving Tim alone always hurt but she had no desire having him so close to a Court meeting.
“Honey, I’m sure everything will work out fine,” Jack Drake said, “The Court will have this settled before long and then we can spend more time with Tim before going to the next dig .* Perhaps we could bring him with us?” He muttered the last sentence as an afterthought. Something ugly twisted in Janet’s chest. She knew tonight would not go as anyone hoped it would. The Gray Sons, Grandmaster Cobb’s favorite daughter, was just killed tonight with her husband. Their only child, Richard, is now being thrusted into his family secrets. How much time has the child had to breathe?
Jack Drake never considered himself a good father, at least in the case of connecting with his son like his own father tried. Did he ever play catch? No. Did he know anything about his kid’s friends? No. Did he know anything about the kid’s teacher? Her name is Miss Celsey Jameson. His kid’s interests? He liked cameras and the new masked spandex wearing weirdos. Every interaction was met with a cold and stony face. He only gave small smiles. Pats on the back. Side hugs at most.
But the thought of leaving his child so abrupt, so sudden, with little to no backup plans. No care at all? That had him feeling a fear he didn't know he could. That he had it in him to care enough to fear that future. He glanced to the side. He could see the plan accumulating in his wife's mind.
Again, Jack does not, has not, considered himself a good father, but he could be a good husband. Every choice and division made by Janet was always supported by him. If he was to gain the title “father of two,” then so be it. He could still try to be a better father.