Disclaimer: I don't own The Rocky Horror Picture Show

A/N: Thank you so much for the review, Alma Oakley! This chapter is dedicated to you! The money Magenta is promised will become important later on.

Laura's son Timothy is not named after Tim Curry, even though this is a RHPS fanfic. He's actually named after Tiny Tim from A Christmas Carol. The boyfriend, Bill, is named after 'Bill Sikes' from Oliver Twist. I'm in quite a Dickensian mood.

Laura Trent hated her life. Well, sort of. It actually wasn't that bad. The problem was that it had begun perfectly. For many years she'd lived in a nice house with her well-off family. Mother and Father supported everything she did, from art to acting to science. Aunt May took her shopping all the time. Grandmother had paid for expensive dance classes, which she'd loved. Everything had been perfect.
That all changed when she was 16. It's a story we've all heard before. A good-girl goes to far with one of her boyfriends, gets knocked up, and then is exiled from the family. Her name disappears from both conversations and will & testaments.

For the first time, young Laura had to actually work. She waited tables at the diner full time - which earned her just enough to pay her rent and eat. Whenever she'd the chance she also danced (tap and light ballet) in local shows. This earned her some extra cash. Of course, after a few months, the doctor decided that all that dancing might hurt the baby. This upset Laura. Dancing was one of her greatest loves. If she'd shown more discipline, said her old teacher, she could've been a principal member of a ballet company someday.

After the baby was born (and christened Timothy Trent), Laura wanted to start dancing again. Every day she practiced a little. Given her lack of money she couldn't afford pointe shoes. Even if she could've, she wasn't in good enough shape anymore. Instead she'd rehearse old tap routines an the like. They required far less work… far less time…
Ah, time. There was something Laura certainly didn't have! What new parent does? Even with the help of her neighbor, the old widow Mrs. Elizabeth James, she was terribly busy. Her job seemed barely worth it. Why bother, if she'll never be paid enough anyway? Still, she had a child. Giving up would presumably hurt him. Barely being able to care for Timothy was certainly better than not caring for him at all.
Things got even worse when, about a year after giving birth, she realized her baby's skull wasn't… right. It was oddly soft. Mrs. James claimed that all babies have soft heads, so Laura carried on as usual.
Then she noticed the way his legs were slightly bowed. She knew there was something wrong, as all mothers do when their children are sick, so she took a day off and visited the town doctor. His name was Charles Chandler. Due to his grandfather's success in the candle making business, Dr. Chandler was rather wealthy. That meant he didn't feel the need to charge very much for visits. This was the main reason Laura went to him.

"Your little boy has rickets," Dr. Chandler told her, after he'd examined Timothy.
Laura frowned. "Is that still a thing?"
"Yes."
"Weird." She paused. "Will he be okay? That is, what am I supposed to do?"
"Well, he's going to need a lot of vitamin D. That's what causes rickets. Since he seems to have trouble absorbing it from the sun, I'm going to have to prescribe supplements."
"Can't I just buy some from the pharmacy? They've " "Over-the-counter pills won't be enough."
"How much will these prescribed pills cost?"
Dr. Chandler sighed. "About $20 per week, I'm afraid."
At the diner, Laura earned $15 each day (not including tips). Already, she struggled to pay the bills. Twenty freakin' dollars sure was lot.
Still, she let the doctor write up a prescription. What choice did she have, anyway?
As she drove home from Dr. Chandler's office, Laura began to think. Where on earth was she going to get that extra money? If her parents even knew the baby was sick they'd probably blame her. Even if they did help pay it wouldn't be worth it. No, there'd be too much fighting.
The only other option was Bill, the ex-boyfriend Laura had sworn to forget. They started dating soon after Laura had become the local Hester Prynne. Nobody wanted to be seen with her. She was desperate for someone to talk to, someone to spend time with. Even a leering Irish bastard in his early thirties didn't sound so bad. Especially since the bastard in question was powerful.
Bill had lots of money - somehow - and claimed he enjoyed 'spoiling' girls. Indeed, he'd spent ridiculous amounts of money buying fancy dresses for Laura and taking her out to dinner. It was silly, though she played along. Being his 'broad' was better than being alone.
They'd broken up the first time when he decided she'd gotten too fat. He'd forced her to give back everything he'd bought her. They both knew that she would've pawned the jewelry if she'd gotten the chance. Yet why did he care, anyway? He had all the money he needed. Anybody who was nobody in Denton, Ohio knew this.

Indeed, Bill was a truly horrible person. Of course, that didn't stop Laura from caring about him. Even after being treated like an attractive possession. Even after having all the gifts taken away. Even after seeing him treat other people even more horrible. Something stopped her from hating him. Perhaps it was the way he'd rescued her from loneliness. Yes, that was probably it…

After dropping Tim off at home, and telling Mrs. James about the diagnosis, Laura went looking for Bill.

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A/N: Incidentally, my mom says I had briefly had rickets as an infant. In the late 1990s-early 2000s doctors (apparently) began to warn parents not to let their babies spend too much time in the sun for some reason. As a result some kids didn't have enough vitamin D. That's partly why Timothy has rickets, as opposed to something else. Tiny Tim's illness was never specified.

Is it weird that Laura/Columbia has a son? In a horrible way, I always thought she was the type of person who'd have a kid at 16. At least two of my earlier stories involved her getting pregnant.