I wanted to do a story examining Tim's mother Janet Drake. She only appears in three stories plus a brief flashback in Robin #100 (she also appears as a zombie or a hallucination a couple of times, but that doesn't really count). I didn't have a lot of material to work with, but I did find a few hints about her personality. I combined that information with what we know about Tim and Jack Drake's personalities, and this is what I came up with.
Batman and associated characters belong to DC. I own nothing but I like borrowing them.
Janet seldom had reason to worry about Tim, but at the moment she was as close to panic about him as she ever had been. She and Jack had come home a few days early from their trip; a stop-off in Morocco had been canceled due to weather issues. Jack had gone straight from the flight to check on something at the office. Usually she would have gone with him, having a better head for business than her husband and liking to double check whatever decisions he made. This time, however, it felt like she had done nothing but argue with him for the last week of their nearly month-long trip, and she needed a break. She also genuinely felt the urge to see her son; to be assured that at least one family member wanted to spend time with her. But Tim was nowhere to be found.
She swiftly did one more sweep of the house to look for her missing son. It made no sense; she had made every effort to make sure he'd be home when she arrived. She'd hoped to surprise Tim, but she had called ahead to the housekeeper asking her if Tim was home or was visiting with friends. Mrs. Mac assured her that Tim was home and agreed to tell him to stay around the house that day. Janet had been looking forward to Tim's delight at seeing her home earlier than expected; she never told anyone, but she found his welcoming smiles very endearing. She had their day together already planned out. But it was eleven o'clock in the evening and she had been waiting and searching for eight hours; the day was almost over.
Eventually, she had tried to call Jack, but he wasn't answering his phone. She wasn't surprised—he had mentioned that he might go out with some of his buddies after work to let her have more one on one time with Tim. Jack was planning to surprise Tim tomorrow by taking him on a fishing trip, so it seemed fair to let today be just for Janet. Finally finding something they could agree on, he must have felt the matter all settled and had probably either turned down his phone or lost it (the man really was unbelievably careless!) and she couldn't rely on him to be home to help her for another hour at least.
She stood in Tim's room beside the phone, silently going over her options. She had searched the house and had even done a pretty thorough search of the surrounding property. No sign of Tim, no note, just a missing bicycle as her only clue.
Now she was regretting that Tim didn't have a phone of his own, but he was so young still and he hadn't even asked for one yet. Did other eleven year olds have phones these days? She didn't talk to him on the phone that often—she was usually travelling in a very different time zone and she liked sending letters and post cards instead. They gave Tim practice writing and her something to look at every now and then when she was missing him. She would be buying Tim a phone after this; he was a responsible kid and would take care of it, though today's events were throwing doubt on her belief in his responsibility.
Could she call his friends? Who were his friends currently? He had mentioned several kids from his latest boarding school in his letters, but no one name stuck out and even if she did find the letters she wouldn't have their contact information without a lot digging.
At this point, calling the police was the only option she had left. She hated the idea, hated the problems it might cause for their family, especially if it ended up in the news somehow, but there would probably be even more problems if Tim really was lost and she didn't call. Also, right now, she just wanted with her whole heart to know he was safe.
She took a deep breath and was just about to dial 911 when she was startled by a door closing downstairs. She put the phone down and ran towards the sound.
She found Tim in a hallway next to the side door, and came to a dead stop. Her son was filthy, his clothes were torn, and blood was on his face, arms, and knees.
Tim's shocked face mirrored hers. "Mom?"
His voice was a further shock. She had left behind a boy with a high, childish voice, but the boy who stood in front of her now had spoken several octaves lower. She didn't recognize this voice, and it was unnerving. It only distracted her for a moment, however, before the full force of her worry came back to her.
"Tim, where were you? I've been looking for you since three o'clock! What happened?"
Tim stared at her for a moment. "You're back early." The disbelief in his face was fading into a shy, slightly nervous smile.
The smile made a dent in her anger, but it wasn't quite gone yet. "Yes, I wanted to surprise you. I was going to spend the day with you, but I couldn't find you anywhere. Where were you? What happened?"
"I was outside taking pictures at Gotham Central Park." He held out the bag he was carrying. "I thought I could get a good angle on the sunset from one of the trees. I fell."
"Are you alright?" She took a step closer, studying him closely.
"Just scraped up. I slid more than I fell. I came home to get cleaned up."
"Let me help you." Her earlier scare was making her feel more protective than usual. She wanted to see for herself that he wasn't badly hurt. She set a tentative hand on his shoulder to steer him to the nearest bathroom—she could swear he'd grown two inches while she was on her trip. She felt him shrug under her hand and start moving. They walked in silence to a large guest bathroom and she made him sit on a stool. She grabbed a first aid kit from under the sink and ran some warm water over a washcloth. She started to clean his cuts, awkwardly. She had never been good at this sort of thing: being a nurse, showing concern.
Truth be told, she'd never been good with children in general. She didn't dislike them, she just didn't relate to them very well. Jack had wanted a kid, had argued with her about how they were in a great position to raise a child, about all the advantages they had to give and all the knowledge and family traditions they had to pass on. They were both only children, he argued, so how else would they be remembered after they were gone?
It had taken some convincing, but when she hit her mid-thirties she felt it was a now-or-never situation. She wasn't one for turning down a challenge and she had been successful in all the other areas of her life up to that point. She co-ran a profitable company, had a stable marriage, and was active with her archaeology hobby. There was every reason to believe she could learn to handle a child.
She knew Tim was an easy kid from the beginning. She had seen other parent's with screaming kids throwing temper tantrums and mouthing off at them but Tim did none of those things. He was quiet, sweet in his own way, and a little shy. Inquisitive, but quick to shut up if it looked like she was losing patience with his questions. His nannies always seemed to be stolen away by richer couples who saw a model child and gave all the credit to the nanny, not the child.
She had made a point to spend time with Tim as much as possible. She had hardly traveled at all till he was six, just leaving for a few weeks here and a few weeks there. She couldn't give up her job; the company would fall to pieces without her to guide it, and she didn't think Jack's ego would allow him to take less work and stay home with Tim. She'd compromised, leaving early or coming in late when she could. She'd traveled more as he got older and went to the boarding schools she felt would best nurture his natural intelligence. She'd usually been around for major events, like birthdays, holidays and the first day of school, but she missed a lot of minor ones, including opportunities to doctor him when he was hurt like this.
He was handling it well right now, sitting patiently and barely flinching, even when she used some alcohol to disinfect his cuts. She felt like she should probably lecture him about his behavior at some point—that's what moms did when their kid's scared them, right?
"Really, Tim, was there no other way to take a picture of a sunset? How high were you when you fell?"
"I wasn't that high." he said. "Really, if I'd just fallen I would have been better off. I just liked the angle looking through the branches; once I got the idea, I had to try it."
Janet was quiet for a moment, considering. She really couldn't bring herself to condemn him for being adventurous. She herself had a daring streak. Why else would she have used so much of her free time over the years chasing archeological leads in distant countries? It had worked out for her so far—she'd made a few modest discoveries to write about, she'd been to some amazing places, and even met her husband along the way. Even with their current difficulties, their love for archeology could still bring them together and the time spent actually working on a find had been the most peaceful part of their last trip.
No, she wanted her son to be willing to take chances, as long as he was smart about it. "Just be more careful next time." She said mildly as she finished bandaging.
"I will." Tim promised. He was still looking at her nervously, no doubt waiting to see if he was off the hook.
Janet washed her hands as she tried to think of a way to ask Tim about one last detail that was bothering her. "That dirt looked more like city grime than soil and bark. Did you also fall on the street?"
He paused for a moment, biting his lip. Eventually he replied, "I must have tripped at some point. I had to walk my bicycle a bit. Plus, you know how Gotham is, you always say after we come back from downtown that you feel like you need a bath." Janet smiled slightly; she didn't think he'd grasped all the implications of her offhand comments. Just as well at his age.
She still had a vague suspicion that Tim was hiding something, but it was late, and she really didn't want to get in an argument. She'd had enough of them with Jack and she'd been hoping to enjoy some calming time with her more patient son.
"Are you hungry?" she asked. Tim nodded. "Ok, then, let's go to the kitchen and see what Mrs. Mac has left over for us."
Soon they were sitting down for a pretty decent meal scrounged from the fridge. Tim had made a sandwich from some lamb, she had gone for the shepherd's pie, and they had both helped themselves to some red velvet cake. Tim had been asking her about her trip; she was pleased when she realized he'd been researching the countries she'd visited and was using the information to pose some thoughtful questions. She really was proud of how smart he was.
Eventually Tim asked her "What were you planning to do today if I had been home?" He offered an apologetic smile with the question.
"Oh, I thought we might head downtown, get dinner, and go to the new independent theater. I've heard some good things about a South Korean film playing there."
"Cool." said Tim.
There was no sarcasm or note of protest in his voice; Janet had no doubt that he would sit through the movie just as patiently as she would, and that he would have some insightful comments about it afterwards. He'd always been very receptive to entertainment other kids would whine about—she and Jack had taken him to operas, ballets, and Shakespeare plays without any misbehavior from him. He seemed to enjoy anything as long as they were doing it together.
"We could still go out this week, if you'd like." she offered.
"I'd love to." There was the delighted smile she'd been waiting for all day.
They continued to talk for another hour, until Jack came home, and Janet found that she was quite excited about the time she would have with Tim later that week. Though she had been taken aback at first when she saw that her son was maturing, as she thought about it later she was more eager than alarmed for him to become an adult. She had always related to adults better than children, and even now she enjoyed the fact that her conversations with Tim could be much more complex than they had been just a few years earlier. In fact, she would bet that the older Tim was, the closer they would be.
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