Chapter Two Dusk
I know Sebastian and Jace weren't raised together, but when they were younger they could have been, since Jace would have no memory of it. Plus imagining Valentine attempting to juggle caring for both boys at the same time could be... interesting... muahahah!
The day Valentine brought Jonathan to live with him and his son was icy cold, with blinding white snow that crunched beneath his boots and he slowly made his way up to Wayland Manor, a place he had claimed as his own after Michael's death.
As soon as door swung open, the two were greeted with a blast of warm air. Jonathan, who has slept soundly the entire way, awoke immediately. His tiny golden brown eyes fluttered open stared up at Valentine curiously.
He stepped indoors gratefully, and glanced around in search of his son, whom he'd been eager to introduce the child to. Jonathan was nowhere in sight, nor were any of the servants that were assigned to care for the children. The only person Valentine could find was one of the cooks, Lindsay.
"Hey, Lindsay!" He shouted, "Where's the kid?"
Lindsay, who was fixing up something for lunch, answered without looking up from what he was doing.
"Upstairs in the nursery. He had a wet diaper, and Josie just took him up to get changed."
He nodded quickly, before Lindsay even finished speaking and walked upstairs without even bothering to thank him. When he entered Jonathan's nursery, after the exhausting walk up the ridiculously long stairs he found, just as the cook had said, both of them. Jonathan was lying on the changing table, his shirt pulled up, his pants pulled down, and clearly enjoying himself as Josephine, one of the nannies, fastened on a clean diaper. He had a lazy, almost smug grin on his face as he was being changed. Most kids screech like wild animals being tortured while being changed, or struggle, but Jonathan never made a peep, he'd just lie there quietly. Sometimes he'd even take a nap on the changing table.
Josephine pulled his pants back up and lifted him up and onto the floor.
"All done," She said cheerfully. "Look, your daddy's home. Wanna go say hi?"
Typically Jonathan paid little attention to his father, or anyone for that matter. He'd never care to greet Valentine, but today was different. He toddled over curiously, his eyes fixated on the tiny bundle in his father's arms.
He silently pointed a small, chubby finger at the baby.
"Whas that?" Jonathan whispered flatly, his dark eyes wide.
"That's the new baby I was telling you about," Valentine explained as he sat down in the rocking chair beside his son's crib. "Remember? This is the brother I said I'd be bringing home."
Jonathan smiled and held fat little hands out. "Can I?" And before Valentine could stop him he reached out clasped his thick fingers around Baby Jonathan's tiny, fragile neck and squeezed.
"JONATHAN, NO!" Valentine reacted quickly, peeling the toddler's fingers off of his brother. "We do not put our hands around the baby's neck. That isn't safe, Jonathan, you know that. You could have killed him."
22-month-old Jonathan understood clearly, but he didn't care. He just laughed.
