jay sinclair || district ten || fin

He's always been aware, to a degree, that he was different, even by his family's standards. Because contrary to popular belief, Jay Sinclair is not stupid - far from it, even, just like his sisters - even if there's much about him that might give that vibe off to the untrained or bigoted eye. And though normal is subjective, a mere six letter word whose label varies from person to person, he recognizes the common ground when it comes to the world around, whether it's in the stories Dove tells or the books Wren gives him to read. By and large, people talk whenever they want, which is a lot. They have a variety of interest and ambitions beyond their own four walls. They thrive in social settings, and enjoy meeting new people. Jay, for his part, can relate to none of those, and then some.

But he's always been curious, sometimes too much for his own good, and when he'd asked his sisters about it over dinner one evening (or to be specific, when Wren had asked him why he was scribbling away in his notebook when there was a perfectly good beef stew going cold right in front of him), the two had shared one of their looks - the sort that always frustrated him because he could just tell that they knew something that he didn't - before turning back to him.

He'd left dinner that night with a new word rattling around in his brain, and when Wren lent him one of the old medical books she'd been given by their parents before their demise (back when three had been five and all his mother had ever talked about with regards to his younger elder sister was making something of herself, another thing he hadn't understood), he'd received the elaboration he didn't realize he'd needed.

Autism. A word that Wren's book described as having affected his development, particularly with social interactions, memories and thoughts, and general behavioral development. A word, that he would find out through a combination of experience and research, more than a few would equate with broken.

Which, to be frank, was a load of bullshit. He wasn't broken just because he spoke with written words instead of his vocal cords. He wasn't broken just because he much preferred the same four walls of his home and the same chicken coops he had grown up with as opposed to anything the greater world out there could offer him. Hell, half of the things listed in the medical book didn't even apply to him (though Wren would later explain that was because, like everyone else, no two people with autism were the same, and that made sense, sort of). He was just another person, just like everyone else. Hell, his own siblings might look similar, but take that away and Dove and Wren were as different as water and oil.

Or take the chickens, for example. Working with them night and day had taught him that even the poultry had their own individual personalities. One hen was very territorial, for example. Another liked head pats. A third was a glutton and had to be watched from the food. But at the end of the day, they were, well, all chickens. And yet even the birds had so much individuality to them. Like the birds they were named after - Dove was named after a hardy urban bird, Wren a small yet fierce songbird, and Jay himself an intelligent cousin to crows and ravens. So why couldn't he be his own person, instead of the labels that defined him?

The answer, really, was that there was nothing stopping him. His sisters took care of him, and he returned the favor in the best way he knew how.

At sixteen, he's perfectly content with his lot in life. Wake up at the crack of dawn, take care of the chickens, take care of his sisters, spend his free time on his own, rinse and repeat. It's the same routine he's fulfilled since his youth, since five became three and his sisters took over the role as his parents. But he's nearing a man grown now, and despite everything - the self confidence he's built up over the years, the constant reminders both internally and externally that it's okay to act in his own self interest over all else, amongst other things - there's still the quiet nagging in his head that he should do more, that he should break out of the mold of the baby of the family, as scary as it is. After all, Dove talks with strangers and keeps them alive in more ways than one, while Wren keeps the business and the family in one piece from behind the scenes. He, by comparison, lives a simple life, simply taking care of poultry - a job that, with minimal training, anyone could theoretically do.

But he doesn't mind. They're a team. A family. And the Sinclairs will always look after their own, no matter what.

and here ripred_bot ! also yes @ fellow staff these are three bios and not clickbait so uwu