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In the quiet hours of the night, with the moon nowhere to be seen and the stars hidden behind clouds, Jason always found himself thinking about his life before King Wayne had adopted him. Gave him a new home, a new life.
He thinks about his late mother and the way she ran her fingers through his hair to help him sleep. Jason thinks about the tune of the lullaby she always sang to him, her sweet voice coaxing him into slumber.
He thinks about his late father and all the times he told him that he was going to be a "damned prince of Gotham," telling Jason that he was going to grow up and do great things. He isn't sure if it was just his father's vulgarity or if he knew that Jason wasn't going to be a simple prince.
Sometimes, he jokes to himself that perhaps Willis was a seer, or someone touched by the mystics. Of course, he always shuts it down as soon as it surfaces.
If his father really was a seer, then he could've avoided being slaughtered by one of many of Gotham's terrorizers. If he was a seer, then he wouldn't have taken that job that took him and his wife both out of their son's life.
He reflects on his life and how different it was from the fairytales he had read from books borrowed from his mother. Now that he was older, he could recognize that those fairytales were indeed just tales, such as the name suggests.
Nowhere in those fairytales did they talk about how much the whole world really thinks about those in royal positions.
Well, those who weren't royal by blood.
In the quiet hours of the night, hidden in his bedchambers, Jason laments the unfairness of the world.
He could still hear in his ears how some of the guards talked about him in hushed voices when he passed by the living chambers of the guards. Jason was roaming around the castle looking for Damian, his older brother and next-in-line to be King, when he heard the comments from two high-ranking knights.
About how he wasn't worthy. How his peasant blood would ruin the rich history of the rulers of Gotham.
Jason didn't stick around to hear the rest.
Now, he stifles his sobs in fear that, somehow, Bruce would hear him being a pathetic and weak child, incapable of handling something as simple as hateful comments. He didn't want to be a burden, not when he'd already bothered them with his mere existence.
In his heart, Jason knows that Bruce, Damian, and Timothy love him as their own. That they love and care for him as much as any family member could.
But the feelings of inadequacy never left his mind.
In the morning, Jason would put up a smile and answer in the affirmative when Bruce asked him if he slept well. He would lie through his teeth as well as he could and ignore the subtly inquisitive gaze cast on him by Damian.
After their meal, Jason excused himself abruptly, informing them that he desired to be early in his lessons in arithmetic. Damian once again gave him that look, but made no move to stop his little brother. It was obvious to him that Jason wanted space to think.
Damian's mother had taught him to read the tells of those around him in the hopes of raising a true warrior and leader for Gotham.And Jason was showing signs of unease; Damian wanted to know why.
The hours passed by as everyone went on with their daily errands. Once his duties for the day were completed, a simple inquiry by Damian to all of Jason's tutors informed him that Jason had not attended any of his lessons, which was uncommon and slightly alarming.
Jason loves learning, even more so than himself and Timothy combined. To learn that Jason had deliberately chosen to not attend his classes was unheard of.
Damian had already checked Jason's room, which Jason was not inside of. Wanting to learn if there were others who knew his location, Damian went to the blacksmith's to ask his other brother, who he knew was working on a new sword once again.
A loud clanging noise was heard from inside, confirming Damian's thoughts.
"Timothy? Have you seen Jason?" Damian asks.
Tim stops hammering the heated metal on the table and looks up at Damian. "Does he not usually train with General Gordon at this hour?" he replies.
Damian shakes his head. "I have already visited the training grounds. Jason was still nowhere to be found."
Timothy pursed his lips as he thought about their brother's possible abodes. "What about the greenhouse? Jason has expressed interest in botany; he might be with Miss Isley."
"I have already visited Miss Isley, and she told me that she had not even seen Jason this day."
The two looked at each other for a while, both thinking about the possible places Jason could have stayed inside.
Then, suddenly, albeit a little comically, they both spoke simultaneously.
"The library."
--
It was late in the afternoon when Jason woke up from his slightly uncomfortable position on the floor, his back supported by a large bookshelf. His head was throbbing, and then he suddenly remembered why. He must've cried himself to sleep.
Pathetic.
The sun was close to setting, meaning Jason had probably missed his classes. He should be more worried, but where feelings of inadequacy had made a home in his heart, now resided feelings of resignation.
He was never going to be what his biological father said he would be. He was never going to be a worthy heir like Damian and Timothy were. He was never going to be enough.
"Jason? Are you in here?"
Jasom freezes. Oh no, he must've angered Damian. There was no other reason that the prince was looking for him than his anger and disappointment with Jason.
Jason stays silent in his hidden reading nook. Though, to no avail. Of course, how did Jason even think he could hide from someone who had lived in the palace for his whole life?
Damian stood beside a tall bookshelf, arms crossed and eyebrows knitted. Behind him was Timothy, whose clothes were a little dirty but still looked composed and elegant as royalty was trained to be.
Something Jason couldn't do.
"I'm sorry," Jason blurts out.
Damian raises an eyebrow. "Of what?"
Jason takes a deep breath and swallows before he speaks. "I skipped out on my lessons. I'm sorry. I have no excuses."
This time, it was Timothy who spoke. "Why are you hiding here? I thought you were attending your arithmetic lessons early?"
Jason couldn't reply with anything, so he stays silent and stares at the floor.
Damian sighs, and Jason inwardly flinches.
"Come here," Damian says sternly.
Jason looks up at Damian in fear. However, he moves and stands up to walk towards the two princes.
To Jason's surprise, Damian kneels down so that the two are eye-to-eye.
"Is there something you want to tell us, Jason?" Damian asks, his voice gentle.
Timothy does the same thing as Damian and kneels down on one knee to look at Jason in the eyes. "You can tell us, Jay."
Their soft voices and genuine concern broke whatever attempts Jason made to stop his tears from coming out.
Damian and Timothy's hearts break as they watch their little brother break down. Tim moves forward to embrace Jason, which the younger eagerly accepts. Damian rubbed Jason's back in an attempt to comfort the youngest.
"I'm sorry, I'm not good enough," Jason suddenly says between sobs.
Damian and Timothy share a look.
"They... they said I wasn't worthy. That I was going to ruin the family with my dirty blood because I was just some peasant boy," Jason continues. Timothy unconsciously tightens his grip on Jason.
"And... who told you this?" Damian asks, anger at the hateful imbecile that insulted his brother barely contained.
"N-no one. I'm sorry, I said nothing," Jason hastily says.
Timothy releases Jason from the embrace slowly and looks directly into Jason's eyes. "They're wrong, Jason. You're as much my brother as Damian is."
Damian nods. "You may not be of our blood, but you are as worthy as Timothy and I. You may not be of Father's blood, but you are his son. Never forget that, Jason."
They both said it with such confidence and honesty that Jason felt it in his bones. This time, it's Jason who opens his arms in an embrace and Damian and Timothy who accept it.
"Thank you," Jason whispers.