Moment of Clarity

by littlefaerielights

Everything was blurry when I was him. Everything. It was blurred at the edges. It drove me crazy, and to have these few moments of clarity was amazing. It was like I could breathe again. I had to hurry home so I could see Clary and she could have her Jace back, if only for a little while.

1. Moment of Clarity

Everything was blurry when I was him. Everything. It was blurred at the edges. It drove me crazy, and to have these few moments of clarity was amazing. It was like I could breathe again. I had to hurry home so I could see Clary and she could have her Jace back, if only for a little while. I knew how much this was killing her, seeing him all the time. The Jace that I hated, the Jace I wanted to kill, but I couldn't' because I know how much that would kill Clary. I don't want to hurt her more than she's already hurting. I can see it in her eyes every time she looks at me. And I can't blame her for it, either. It would hurt me, too. It would hurt me more than anything in the world to see her like how he was. I don't know how she hasn't killed me herself yet. Clary, my beautiful Clary. I ran to the apartment. And stood at the door, trying to gain that mask back for a moment so I could talk to Sebastian.

"Hey, little brother." He said casually. I repressed the urge to cringe. "Is it done?"

"It's done." I said in a flat voice.

"And the old lady—she did as we asked? Made the cup?" His eyes were bright. My hand twitched toward my stele, but I balled it into a fist.

"Yes." My voice was tight. I sounded like myself again, myself when I was angry. Ready for a fight.

"Show it to me." I hated the greed in his voice.

"Look, take it if you want it." I said. I wanted this over with. I wanted to go see Clary. I wanted to see her so badly.

"No." He said, handing it back. "You hold onto it for the moment. You did the work getting it back, after all. Didn't you?" He looked at me. These cuts, gashes were really starting to hurt. But the need to see Clary was hurting even more.

"But that was your plan." I said, trying to keep my voice from rising. "And I executed it, just as you wanted. Now if you don't mind—"

"I do mind." He said, stepping in front of me. I curled my hands into fists. "There's something wrong. I can tell. I can read you, you know."

"I'm tired." I said. And that was true. I was. But not for the reasons he thinks. I was tired of him, tired of being him. "And there was a lot of blood." My blood. "Look, I just need to clean myself off, and to sleep. And…" Clary. I need to see Clary.

"To see my sister." I hate it. I hate so much when he refers to her as his sister. He doesn't care about her like that. I hate it even when I'm him. Cos I see the way he looks at her. I want to murder him for it. But it would kill me and that would destroy Clary.

"I would like to see her, yes." I need to see her.

"She's asleep. Has been for hours."

"Do I need to ask your permission?" I could hear myself, the real me again in my voice. That razorblade edge I get when I'm mad. He raised his eyebrow.

"No." He looked surprised, caught off guard. "I suppose if you want to barge right in there and gaze wistfully at her sleeping face, go right ahead. I'll never understand why—"

"No." I said. Because he can never love anyone like I love Clary. No one can love anyone like I love Clary. "You never will." And I turned away from him and walked down the hall towards Clary's room. I opened the door quietly. She looked peaceful. She rolled over.

"What…?" I closed the door and kneeled on the floor next to her bed. "Clary." I whispered. "Clary, it's me. It's me."

Her eyes opened. I missed her green eyes. He didn't deserve them. They were wide and sad, but happy at the same time. I looked at her, I didn't know how long this would last. It scared me. So much it hurt. Her eyes were wide.

"Please," I whispered with urgency. "Please believe me." I knew she did, I could read it in her eyes.

"How?!"

"Clary, shh—" As much as I wanted to climb into bed with her, lay here with her and listen to her heartbeat… I couldn't. Not here. She struggled to sit up and I pushed her back down. "We can't talk now. I have to go." The hurt in her eyes killed me. She grabbed for my sleeve and I cringed. I didn't want to leave her, not even for a minute. The pain in her eyes, in her face.. It broke my heart.

"Don't leave me." The pain in her voice… She needed me, she needed the real me, and I can't blame her. I really can't. She's been dealing with him for so long, she needs me. And I'm withholding. I looked at her. Something in my eyes, in my face made her stop talking. She looked on the verge of tears. My heart shattered.

"Wait a few moments after I go." I said, and she stared at me with those wide green eyes. They were filled with a mixture of happiness and pain. But the pain over took the happy and it killed me to leave her. "Sebastian can't know we're together. Not tonight." He already suspects something's up.. "Don't let him hear you." She sat up.

"Your stele. Leave me your stele." I hesitated for a moment, but I saw her point in asking for it. If she ran into him, she could need protection.. I gave it to her.

My fingers brushed the palm of her hand, and I felt that fire I used to feel when I used to touch her before he took over. She shuddered and I took my hand away and backed toward the door, never letting my eyes leave her.

I opened the door looked at her for one last precious second before I closed the door. I heard her jump out of bed and I walked down the hall, smiling. I would get to be myself for a while and Clary would have her Jace back. The one she fell in love with, the one she couldn't live without, the one that she sacrificed everything for. The stars were beautiful tonight.

The door opened and she gasped.

"Jace." She said softly, walking slowly towards me. She was looking all over me, the cuts, the blood..

"Don't." I held up my hand to stop her. And she did, but the pain in her eyes was more evident now. This was killing me. I needed her in my arms. Her eyes landed on Lilith's mark. "Yeah. Oh. This won't last, Clary. Me being myself, I mean. Only as long as this hasn't healed."

And for the first time, I wished I didn't heal faster than mundanes do. I would get to be with my Clary for longer. She would have her Jace for longer.

"I—I wondered," She stammered. This was really killing me. All the pain she was in. "Before—while you were sleeping—I thought about cutting the rune like I did when we fought Lilith. But I was afraid Sebastian would feel it."

"He would have." I want to take her in my arms, and kiss her. Kiss her like there's no tomorrow, because I'll never be like this again. Because he can't die without killing me. "He didn't feel this because it was made with a pugio—a dagger seethed in angel blood. They're incredibly rare; I've never seen one in real life before." I ran my fingers through my hair and she stared at me. "The blade turned to hot ash after it touched me, but it did the damage it needed to do."

"You were in a fight with a demon?" Clary's eyes were wide. "Why didn't Sebastian go with—"

"Clary." I whispered. "This—it'll take longer than an ordinary cut to heal…but not forever. And then I'll be him again." The Jace that we both hate.

"How much time?" She asked. "Before you go back to the way you were?"

"I don't know." I said. "I just don't know. But I wanted—I needed to be with you, like this, like myself, for as long as I could." I reached my hand out to her stiffly. I didn't know if she'd take it or not. "Do you think you could—" She ran across the room to me and threw her arms around my neck. I caught her and buried my face in the crook of her neck. I felt her fingers in my hair, smiling and happy.

"It's you." She whispered. "It really is you."

I pulled back to look at her and, still holding her, I traced my finger across her cheekbone and I saw her eyes light up.

"I missed you." She said. "I missed you so much."

I closed my eyes. It hurt. It really did. Because it was still me that was hurting her. Causing her all of this pain, destroying her. I let the tears fall, because it breaking me in half, into a million little pieces. She cupped her hand around my face.

"It's not your fault." Clary whispered softly. But it was. She kissed my cheek, kissing the tears away. And finally.. I felt her lips on mine.

I needed this. I needed her. It was soft, sweet at first. But it slowly turned into a burning wildfire. I carried her to the bed and I felt her smile. Her hands roamed over my bare skin. It felt like fire. I loved it. I missed it. I found the hem of her tank top and she arched into me as I slid it over her head, and I could feel her heartbeat. The kisses deepened, it was more than a burning wildfire. It was out of control. She dug her nails into my shoulders when I kissed her neck. I did it again. She scratched down my back. And kissed her collarbone, the star shaped mark on her shoulder. She kissed my scar, the back or my knuckles, the Mark of Lilith. I shuddered, I wanted her. No, I needed her. I pulled her even closer. Her nails dug deeper in my back and i knew there was no going back now. I knew neither of us cared. She wrapped her legs around the small of my back. I groaned and my fingers dug into her hips. Oh god, I wanted her. I needed her. With great difficulty, I pulled away.

"Clary." My voice was shaking. She looked at me with wide, bright eyes. I could tell she wanted it just as much as I did. "I can't… If we don't stop now, we won't be able to."

"Don't you want to?" She was surprised, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright. She was breathing heavy. I could feel her heart racing in her chest.

"Yes, it's just I've never—" I was having trouble talking. I needed this beautiful girl in front of me.

"You haven't?" Clary was surprised. "Done this before?" She was having trouble talking, too. I took a deep breath.

"I have." I searched her eyes for disappointment, disgust, anger, anything bad.. But she just stared at me evenly. Her eyes were still full of yearning. "But not when it mattered." With Clary, it would be different. It would mean so much more. Because he loved her so much, and she loved me just as much. "I don't even know how…"

She laughed softly. "I think it's been established that you do." I smiled at her.

"That's not what I meant." I took her hand and brought it to my face. It was hot. "I want you," Clary's eyes lit up even more at that. Hasn't anyone ever told her that before? That she's beautiful and lovely and wanted and.. just so goddamn sexy? "more than I have ever wanted anything in my life." I took a deep breath and stared at her. The love and passion in her eyes made my heart pound even more. "Name of the Angel. I'm going to kick myself for this later." I ran my hands through my hair.

"Don't say you're trying to protect me," she said, a fire blazing in her eyes. "Because I—"

"It's not that." I shook my head, internally cringing. "I'm not being self-sacrificing. I'm…jealous."

Clary's eyes widened. "You're—jealous? Of who?"

"Myself." I squeezed her hand. "I thought of him being with you. Him. That other me. The one Sebastian controls." That made me sick. Her smile faded and she blushed.

"At the club… last night…." I dropped my head to her shoulder. Clary stroked my back, feeling the scratches she'd left on my back.

"I remember everything about last night." I whisper. I hate myself for it. Because it wasn't me. "And it makes me crazy, because it was me but it wasn't. When we're together, I want it to be the real you. The real me." I don't want Sebastian to feel it, because f he does, it's not just my memory, it's his, and that very thought makes me sick.

"Isn't that what we are right now?" She asked. I knew how much Clary wanted it, and I'm pretty sure she could tell how much I wanted her, but this wasn't the time.

"Yes." I lifted my head and kissed her, but didn't let it turn into the burning wildfire that it was before. The one that made me feel alive for the first time in weeks. "But for how long? I could turn back to him any minute." I didn't like how bitter my voice was. "I don't even know how you can stand it, being around this thing that isn't me—"

"Even if you go back to being that in five minutes," Clary said, her voice incredibly soft and loving. "it would've been worth it, just to be like this again. Because of you, and even that other you—there's pieces of the real you in there. It's like I'm looking through a blurred window at you, but it's not the real you. At least I know now." It hurt, to know how much pain I was causing her. I hated myself for it.

"What do you mean?" My grip on her shoulders tightened. "What do you mean at least you know now?" Her eyes widened and I loosened them. She took a deep breath.

"Jace, when we were first together, like really together, you were so happy for that first month. And everything we did was funny and fun and amazing. And then it started draining out of you, all of that happiness—" Clary's voice broke a little at the end.

"I was afraid I was going to hurt you. I thought I was losing my mind." I said, remembering that feeling.

"You didn't smile or laugh or joke, And I'm not blaming you. Lilith was creeping into your mind, controlling you. Changing you. But you have to remember—I know how stupid this sounds—I never had a boyfriend before. I thought maybe it was normal. That maybe you were just getting tired of me." The very thought of getting tired of Clary seemed impossible.

"I could never—" I start off, but Clary shushed me.

"I'm not looking for reassurance," She said softly. "I'm telling you. When you're—like you are, controlled—you seem happy. I came here because I wanted to save you." But I'm not happy. Not at all. "But I started wondering what I was saving you from. How could I bring you back to a life you seemed so unhappy with." The pain in her eyes was evident, but she was fighting to keep it out of her voice.

"Unhappy?" I shook my head. That was impossible. I wasn't unhappy. I was scared. I was terrified that I was going to hurt her. Which would kill me. But I was hurting her by trying to protect her and that hurt me even more. "I was lucky. So, so lucky. And I couldn't see it." I looked at her. "I love you." I wish there was a word for what I really felt, because it's more than love, but there isn't. "And you make me happier than I thought I ever could be. And now I know what it's like to be with someone else—lose myself—I want my life back. My family. You." Her eyes widened. "I want it back." I kissed her, with such passion, hungry, hot, like wildfire. I gripped her waist, my nails digging into her soft skin. I gripped the sheets, almost ripping them. I pulled back, panting. "We can't—"

"Then quit kissing me!" She gasped. Clary's cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright. "In fact—" She grabbed her tank top and pushed me off her and rolled off the bed. "I'll be right back." She was breathing just as heavy as I was. I watched her go, I didn't want her to leave, even for a second. I didn't know when I would change back into him.

Clary came out of the bathroom, looking calmer than she had before. She had a wet towel in her hand and stood at the foot of the bed.

"Alright, take off your shirt." She said.

I sat up and looked at her, raising my eyebrow.

"I'm not going to attack you." She smirked. "I can take the sight of your naked chest without swooning."

I smiled. "Are you sure?" I took my shirt off. "Because viewing my naked chest has caused many women to seriously injure themselves stampeding to get to me."

"Yeah, well, I don't see anyone here but me, and I just want to clean the blood off you." Clary said. I leaned back on my hands. She was gentle, loving as she cleaned the blood away. He watched her, the expression on her face was worried and she was as just in much pain as he was. If I had seen her like this, I would be hurting just as much.

"Clary?"

"Yes?" She said without looking up.

"I won't remember this," I said. She looked up, her eyes wide and the pain was much more pronounced. "When I'm back—like I was—under his control, I won't remember being myself. I won't remember being with you, or talking to you like this. So just tell me—are they all right? My family? Do they know—" It was scary, I really wish I could remember this, being with my Clary like this. Seeing her happy like this. She's hurting, but she's happy. I won't ever get this….

"What happened to you?" She finished my sentence. "A little. And, no, they're not all right." Clary looked sad. "I could lie to you." But she never would, because she knew that would hurt me more than the truth would. And she won't sugarcoat the truth either. Because she loves me too much for that. I know she does. "They love you so much, and they want you back." Her voice caught on the last word. She looked down.

"Not like this." I said fiercely. I know they wouldn't want to see me like this either. She touched my shoulder gently.

"Are you going to tell me how you got these cuts?" Clary asked, tracing them. I took a deep breath and my voice shook when I spoke. I am not proud of what I did.

"I killed someone." I expected her to shrink back in fear, disgust, anger, disappointment. She dropped the towel and I could tell she was shocked, but felt none of the emotions I was scared for. She bent down to get it and spoke when she got back up.

"Who?" She whispered.

"You met her," I said, I hated every word I was saying. "The woman you went to visit with Sebastian. The Iron Sister. Magdalena." I twisted away from her and reached back to get the Cup that was tangled in the blankets of the bed. "Sebastian sent me—sent him—to get this from her tonight. And he also gave me the order to kill her." I cringed. I hate being under someone else's control. Especially someone as evil as Sebastian. "She wasn't expecting it. She wasn't expecting any violence, just payment and exchange. She thought we were on the same side." I'm only meant to kill demons. I'm meant to kill Sebastian. But I'm bound to him. If I kill him, I kill myself. I can't stand doing that to Clary. Even he knows that. "I let her hand me the cup, and then I took my dagger and i—" I took a deep breath, I saw her wide eyes, the blood splattering everywhere… "I stabbed her. I meant it to be through the heart, but she turned and I missed by inches. She staggered back and grabbed for her worktable—there were powdered adamas on it—she threw it at me. I think she meant to blind me. I turned my head away, and when I looked back, she had the aegis in her hand. I think I knew what it was. The light of it seared my eyes. I cried out as she drove it toward my chest, I felt a searing pain in the Mark, and then the blade shattered." I looked down and laughed. "The funny thing is, if I had been wearing gear, this wouldn't have happened. I didn't because I didn't think it wasn't worth the bother. I didn't think she could hurt me. But the aegis burned the Mark—Lilith's Mark—and suddenly I was back in myself, standing over this dead woman with a bloody dagger in my hand and the Cup in the other." And everything was clear again. It was like I could really breathe again.

"I don't understand," Clary said. "Why did Sebastian tell you to kill her?" I loved this about Clary. She didn't care that I had just killed a woman, didn't hate I for it, was only curious as to why I was forced to do such a thing.

"Do you remember what Sebastian said about that clock in Old Town Square? In Prague?"

"That the king had the clock maker's eyes put out after he made it so he could never make anything as beautiful again," Clary looked confused. "But I don't see—"

"Sebastian wanted Magdalena dead so she could never make anything like this again." I said, staring at her. She just looked back with wide eyes, drinking me in. "And so she could never tell." I finished bitterly, looking away. I hated myself for what I've just done. He would be perfectly okay with it.

"Tell what?" Clary brought her hand up to my chin and forced me to look at her. "Jace, what is Sebastian really planning on doing? The story he told in the training room, about wanting to raise demons so he can destroy them—" There was an urgency in her voice that I didn't particularly like. It scared me. Like she was planning something dangerous. It didn't matter if I was me or him, it would kill both of us to see her in pain, real pain. But it would hurt me, the real me more than it would hurt him.

"Sebastian wants to raise demons alright." I said bitterly, pushing the thought of losing Clary out of my mind. "One demon in particular. Lilith."

"But Lilith's dead. Simon killed her." There was a certain note of pain when she said Simon's voice that kind of scared me. Had something happened to him?

"Greater Demons don't die. Not really. Greater Demons inhibit the voids between the worlds, the great Void, the emptiness. What Simon did was shatter her power, send her in shreds back to the nothingness she came from. But she'll slowly reform there. Be reborn. It would take centuries, but not if Sebastian helps her." Her eyes widen even more and she shivered.

"Helps her how?" Clary's voice was small, quiet.

"By summoning her back to this world. He wants to mix her blood and his in a cup and create an army of dark Nephilim. He wants to be Jonathan Shadowhunter reincarnated, but on the side of demons, not angels."

"An army of dark Nephilim?" her voice got higher. "The two of you are tough, but you're not exactly an army." There was an odd edge to her voice that I hoped was directed toward Sebastian and him, not me.

"There are about forty or fifty Nephilim who either once loyal to Valentine, or hate the current direction of the Clave and are open to hearing what Sebastian has to say. He's been in contact with them. When he raises Lilith, they'll be there." I took a deep breath and looked at Clary. I couldn't place the look on her face… "And after all that? With the power of Lilith behind him? Who knows who will join his cause? He wants war. He's convinced he'll win it, but I'm not sure he won't. For every dark Nephilim he makes, he'll grow in power. Add that to the demons he's already made allegiances with, and i don't know if the Clave is prepared to withstand him." I really didn't like that edge to my voice.

Clary dropped her hand. "Sebastian never changed. Your blood never changed him. He's exactly like he always was." She looked at me, but there was an accusing look in her eyes. "But you. You lied to me, too." My heart stopped.

"He lied to you." I whispered.

"I know." She said, but her voice wasn't hers. "I know that Jace isn't you—"

"He thinks it's for your good and you'll be happier in the end, but he did lie to you. And I would never do that." She has to know that. He would lie to her, use her, he may love her, but he doesn't care for her. I love her, I care for her, I would do anything and everything in my power to keep her safe and alive and happy.

"The aegis." There was a small note of hope in her voice. "If it could hurt you, and Sebastian not feel it, could it kill him, but not you?"

I shook my head. I could almost feel her heart breaking. "I don't think so. If I had an aegis, I might be willing to try, but—no." I held her hand tightly. "Our life forces are tied together. An injury is one thing. If he were to die…" I hear the edge in my voice and try to soften it, but it just got sharper. "You know the easiest way to end this." I said, and she cringes. "Put a dagger in my heart. I'm surprised you didn't do it while I was sleeping." But I know why she hasn't. Because killing me would be like killing herself. Her voice shook when she spoke.

"Could you? If it were me?" She looked at me with so much pain in her eyes, it shattered my heart. "I believed there was a way to make this right. I still do. Give me your stele, and I'll make a Portal." I hated that note of hope in her voice, because I would have to be the one to shatter it.

"You can't make a Portal from inside here." I said. "It won't work. The only way out of this apartment is through the wall downstairs, by the kitchen. It's the only place you can move the apartment, too."

"Can you move us to the Silent City?" Clary asked, that note of hope returning to her voice. "If we go back, then the Silent Brothers can figure out a way to separate you from Sebastian. We'll tell the Clave his plan so they'll be prepared—" Her idea gave me an idea, but I know she would hate it.

"I can move it to one of the entrances, and I will. I'll go. We'll go together. But just so there won't be any untruth between us, Clary, you have to know, they'll kill me." My voice shook and tears filled her eyes.

"Kill you? No, they wouldn't—" But I could see it in her eyes, that this was the only way. They would kill me, they would have to.

"Clary." My voice was soft, gentle, loving. "As a good Shadowhunter, I ought to volunteer to die to stop what Sebastian is going to do. As a good Shadowhunter, I would." But I'm selfish. I don't want to do this to Clary. I see the pain, the pleading in her eyes. It would kill her.

"But none of this is your fault." Clary's voice rose, but she forced it back down. I hated seeing her like this. "You can't help what's been done to you. You're a victim in this. It's not you, Jace; it's someone else, someone else wearing your face. You shouldn't be punished—" Every word she says is killing me, breaking my resolve. I don't want to cause her any more pain that I've already caused her.

"It's not a matter of punishment. It's practicality. Kill me." She cringed. I saw the look of immense pain in her eyes, pain that no one her age should be feeling. "Sebastian dies. It's no different from sacrificing myself in battle. It's all well and good to say I didn't choose this. It has happened. And what I am now, myself, will be gone again soon enough." She cringes again. "And, Clary, I know it doesn't make sense, but I remember it—I remember all of it. I remember walking with you in Venice, and that night at the club, and sleeping in this bed with you, and don't you get it? I wanted this. This is all I ever wanted, to live with you like this, be with you like this. What am I supposed to think, when the worse thing that has ever happened to me gives me exactly what I want?" When it boils down to it, what makes me sick to think about, really, is that this is what Sebastian gave me. What Lilith gave me. "Maybe Jace Lightwood can see all the ways this is wrong and messed-up, but Jace Wayland, Valentine's son…loves this life." She looked at me with wide eyes, sad and full of pain, begging me to stay with her. "And that's why I have to go." I whisper. "Before this wears off. Before I'm him again."

"Go where?" But she knew what I meant.

"To the Silent City." Her eyes roamed my face, as if she was trying to memorize it. "I have to turn myself in—and the Cup, too."