dottielint get a kid pt. 1
They haven’t had her a month before they begin to realize that they aren’t cut out to be parents.
Janet never thought she was cut out to be a parent to begin with; she’d spent so much of her life unable to touch anyone, let alone a child, that she wasn’t sure how to interact with one once they had one. Sometimes she stared and pressed her lips together and when the kid looked at her too long, she asked maybe a little too loudly and a little too frustrated, “What?” Then the kid would scamper away and hide in her room like a frightened animal.
Not like a frightened animal. Janet was naturally better with animals than she was with children. You just had to be nice to them and let them come to you and give them treats and pet them occasionally, if they sniffed you and decided they were okay with being pet. Some of that might work with people, with kids, but the whole giving treats and pet them occasionally didn’t seem right. You don’t pet children. And you don’t give them treats as a reward. Or maybe you do. Her childhood hadn’t gone very well to begin with, so the best she could do is not treat the child the way she’d been treated and treat her the way that she’d wanted to be treated.
That last part was the hard one.
Dottie wasn’t bad with pets, but she was better with kids – with their kid. She was the one who had wanted the child in the first place. She hadn’t been able to explain exactly why – which was a bad idea – and maybe it was more connected with her desire to be more heroic—
They hadn’t really adopted the kid, per say. They’d found her. Well, Dottie had found her.
They hadn’t stolen her either. Not really. They’d given her the option.
It had been impossible not to, when they’d seen the bruises, when they’d seen her house, when they’d seen—
There were two bodies electrified to a crisp where the girl – where their kid – once lived. Dottie had taken her because Janet said this one was hers by right. Not because her guardians had been worse than Dottie’s – by all accounts, they were almost equal, and if someone had it worse than the other, Dottie had it worse than she did by a lot – but because she, at least, would give them a quick death that made it obvious just who had killed them.
Dottie had wanted to play with them the way they’d played with their daughter. Janet could have gotten behind that, but she wasn’t the one who could carry the child out of the house and away from it before her parents dealt with the consequences of their actions.
They had the audacity to thank her for not being Dottie. She’d hated them for that. Like she was some kind of hero.
Regardless – they had the kid now. It was a better arrangement for the kid. She was certain that it was a better arrangement for the kid. She might not have been nice, but she wasn’t cruel by any stretch of the imagination. She just wasn’t good with kids. Wasn’t really good with people, and since kids were people, too—
She found the kid curled up in Dottie’s lap later. The kid wasn’t asleep. She stared at Janet with large eyes, and she shivered once. Dottie looked up and met Janet’s eyes. “Jan, you’re not supposed to scare her. That’s what the ghosts and goblins are for.”
Janet scowled and rolled her eyes. “There are no ghosts or goblins.” Her eyes moved to the kid. “Unless you like ghosts and goblins. I could find some for you—”
“No,” the kid said, her voice a frightened squeak, and she hid her head in Dottie’s arms.
Dottie grinned up at Janet – she was laughing at her, only without laughing because the kid would not have appreciated that. “Maybe ghosts and goblins are a bad idea.”
“I told you there weren’t any.” Janet strode forward and sat on the chair next to them. She leaned her head on one hand and stared at the kid. “Besides, I’d kill them before I let them hurt you.”
“If you got to them before I did.”
Janet shifted her head back and forth. “You’re better at protecting the kid. I’m better at ghosts and goblins and murder.”
Dottie’s brow furrowed. “I’m good at murder.”
Janet leaned down and met the kid’s eyes. “She could probably teach you how to be good at it. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about assholes like me. You wouldn’t have to be scared of anyone.” Her gaze flicked up to meet Dottie’s. “Except the ghosts and goblins. Dottie here doesn’t have the same skill set that I do.” She lifted one hand, letting the static flicker across her fingers.
The kid’s eyes went wide. “Can I learn to do that?”
Janet blinked. “Trust me, you don’t want to.” She tapped her grounding rings together, then pointed at the scar etched into the skin over her left eye. “You get it wrong and shit like this happens.”
“ ‘ve had worse.” The kid stared at her. “So teach me.”
“Can’t teach you.” Janet rolled her eyes. “You have to be born with it.” She tilted her head at Dottie. “Don’t have to be born with what she’s got. Just have to be trained.”
“And injected with a super secret super special serum that we stole from some foreigners,” Dottie continued, glancing up at the sky. Then she ran a hand through the girl’s wavy red hair. “Don’t worry. Don’t plan on injecting you. It’s not good for little girls.”
The girl pressed her lips together. “Will it make me stronger?” She looked up, trying to meet Dottie’s eyes. “Strong like you?”
Janet groaned before Dottie could say anything. “We should really take her to someone else. Like Rhea. Or Luisa. They’re better with kids than—”
“Excuse you, I’m great with kids.” Dottie’s eyes narrowed. “And this one’s mine and they can’t have her.”
I want her. She’s mine.
Janet shuddered. Then she stood and patted the arm of the chair Dottie sat in. “Yeah, whatever. Enjoy your kid.”