This is one of my old one-shots, only its under a different name.
its a long story... but please reveiw!
The halls of the institute were dark, darker than they used to be. The witchlight flickered dimly, lighting the hallways with a soft white glow that cast eerie shadows across the walls, swirling patterns, some sharp some soft, covering the walls like ghosts.
The red head walked slowly through the corridors, feeling the press of the walls as though they were closing in on her, crashing ever closer with every shaking breath she took. In this light she looked almost normal, her frizzy and untameable red mass of hair pulled into a messy, almost careless bun. Her clothing loose and care-free, not bothering to go through lengths to look presentable any more. Her light wash jeans were baggy, hanging over her feet so her shoes only just peeked out. Her laces were undone, threatening to trip her at any moment but she didn't notice. Her shirt was the only item of her attire that didn't belong to her. The large, plain back t-shirt belonged to him, to Jace, his musky and manly scent almost extinguished from the fabric.
When Clary reached her destination she stopped, her hand centimetres from the brass handle of the large wooden door, the frame towering over her small body. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath she closed the gap and twisted the knob, her fingers barely registering the chill from the untouched metal.
After her eyes adjusted to the even darker witchlight she sighed, her eyes scanning the room that had been left unoccupied for so long, almost too long. Everything was the way it was left, a thin layer of dust the only new addition to the room. The grand piano stood where it was left, the cover for the keys left open. She walked over slowly, a sudden chill falling over her body the closer she got.
A melody formed in her head. Clary wasn't one for music, it was the art she tended to steer herself away from unless it was with him, yet the song formed. A slow, haunting melody that seeped into her skin and wrapped her heart in its vices. In a low, almost silent voice she began to sing, the chill over her body growing with every lyric.
I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
She was closer to the piano now, her fingers itching to run across delicately coated keys. The black and white pathway luring her into a world she was so unfamiliar with without him here. Yet something edged her forward, offering to show her the route, to teach her and to guide her. Her fingers reached a little closer, thin, scarred and sickly pale in the dim light.
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
Her thoughts trailed and her eyes closed, the back of her lids branded with the golden image, the one she remembered, the one she longed for more than anything she'd every lost before. She felt it again, the eerie, yet familiar presence edging her forward, coaxing her towards the instrument that spoke his volumes, even when left un-played. Her fingers brushed the dust of one key, her fingers trailing the smooth and cool white surface.
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
She let her fingertip wipe across more of the keys, leaving a trail of cleansed whiteness behind, even with the keys yellowing from age they still sang of innocence, his innocence. How many times had these been the subject of his gentle touch? More times than she had no doubt. Her mind wandered to the little boy with the golden hair, his father teaching him to work the instrument with a iron fist, teaching him the passion and the delicate touch required for such beauty. Her thoughts may have wondered by the lyrics continued to flow.
These wounds won't seem to heal
this pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
She thought then of their first moments, the club, the thumping of the music in her ears and the pounding of the bass in her feet. The way the blade had winked at her. It seemed almost mocking to her now, like it knew something that she didn't, like it knew what was coming and wasn't willing to share just yet. All the keys were clean now, each of their surface void of any remnants of dust, the yellowing, off-white surface smiling lightly up at her, offering sympathy and condolence. If only she knew how to play.
Her fingers began moving, slowly at first, each finger tip wiping lightly against the surface of the key, the sharp and soft notes echoing loudly in the silence of the room. The tune kept with her words, the chilling feeling washing over each finger as it pressed the right keys, emitting the right sound.
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me
Her mind wandered again, this time to a later date. To a room holding three people and a mirror, one blonde, one gold and a red head. Her mind traveled across the words the eldest occupant spoke, of hearing her relation to the object of her worlds rotation, the the gravity that kept her grounded to the earth. She'd never felt sorrow and despair as powerful as that day, not until now. Then she knew that he'd always come home, that he'd always wander through the door and welcome her, however brief and cold a recognition. Now there was nothing. Not even a whisper.
You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me
His hair, his eyes, his presence. All the things she missed, even when she thought she could feel something, something chilling and distant yet so warm and so close to her all at once. She felt that now, the chilling warmth. The feeling of being so close, yet a million miles apart. The way the golden luxury of his entire being, the glow that seemed to emit from his every orifice still plagued her mind, wrapping her in the warmth of him that chilled her to the bone, threatening to freeze the blood in her veins. Her dreams were a mess of blood and feathers and fire, all mashing together to form a horrific fantasy that woke her in a cold sweat every night, the cold resonating from his side of the bed still haunted her when she wasn't there.
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
Her eyes were closed now and she could feel something burning on the back of her lids, branding away the image of his eyes only slightly. She barely noticed the weight lifted from her feet. The cold of the piano bench seeped into her skin, the dust covering her jeans in a cloud of grey. Her fingers were moving even quicker now, the melody of her mind playing across the keys as though she'd learnt how to play as a child. The feeling grew stronger the colder she felt, like the small spark of life that flickered in her soul was being slowly used up, stolen by something else, or the way she saw it, someone else. He was there now, with her, the way he was some times. So close, yet so far. The twisted and brutal hand of fate separating them, leaving his touch nothing but a chill on her skin.
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me
Everything about her screamed for him, yearned for his touch to warm, not chill her. For him to be able to guide her properly, not like he was smoke, only a figment of a human. The burning on her still closed eyes grew stronger, obscuring the image of him from the back of her eyelids with a scorching white light, but still nothing was comprehensible. Even with her eyes closed she knew he was still there, guiding her fingers along the pathway of the music, letting her fingers swipe at just the right moment, the ghost of his arms around her, the presence of his chest pressed against her. She wanted it to go; she wanted relief, not to be tortured this way, forever longing for something never to return.
I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along
Even with her family around her she was alone, Clary had been alone ever since he left, since the light dimmed in his golden eyes and his body grew pale. She used to hope, to pray for a mistake to have been made. Some idle fantasy that whispered to her it's not him, not really. Something that kept her going, let her keep her head held high, but that all vanished. Everything crumpled when she saw him. His clothing ripped and matted with the crimson liquid so familiar to his body. When she felt the chill of his skin, how she'd squeezed his hand, begging for her life to somehow transfer into him. To let him stay, let her go. If only.
The image was clear in her mind now, a shape, no, a rune. A simple rune, nothing complex, just a scaffold of crossing lings, similar to a star but also close to a heart, something easy to remember. Oh how blissful irony was. She knew what to do, knew how to fix this catastrophe, but now wasn't the time. The melody was still fresh and the familiar and the chilling presence he gave comforted her, left her feeling that little bit fuller and more alive than she had been in weeks. But it was never enough. Her fingers jumped from key to key, quick and agile, his fingers moving with her all the way, guiding her, steering her in the right direction every step of the way. It was the most he could do for her now, just keep moving her forward.
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
She thought now of the night in Alicante, of him wanting nothing more than to lie with her, and how she had let it happen. No strings attached, just the warming touch of his hand on hers, the presence she longed and woke up screaming for at night.
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
The way his golden eyes had searched hers in Sebastian's apartment, pleading to kill him, to not let him life another day as her brothers puppet. More than anything of the betrayal those golden orbs had screamed when she'd screamed her brothers stolen name.
And I held your hand through all of these years
The way her hand had grasped his before he left, a silent promise of both their returns. The connection only shared by the most intimate of lovers. The shared gaze that whispered a thousand secrets and the oath spoken through the silent gap and the way his lips has felt on hers, screaming and shouting the unfairness of the short amount of time they shared before he was ripped away. Her fingers slipped from the piano.
She stood then, fingers falling immediately to her belt, gripping the cool, yet thrumming metal of the stele in her finger tips. She closed her eyes, picturing his face for one last second. She felt the chill pass over her again, closer than before, a brush of a gentle, freezing breeze silkily brushing against her lips. With her eyes closed she drew the rune. The rune so simple and easy to remember. The cross between a star and a heart. A rune to forget. And for the first time in a very long time, the red headed teen with the wild mane of hair, her dull and almost lifeless green eyes and pale tear stained cheeks, smiled.
There was no loss, no golden boy never to return, there was only her, an ordinary shadowhunter girl, ready to take on the world alone, blissfully ignorant to the war she started, the war he lost.
She left then, her steps more lively, her posture more alive. And he stayed there, the chilling presence of a boy, the victim of war stood in the room alone, slowly fading with every passing second, the reborn red head taking all he had left. He was almost gone, almost invisible now, fading away. He ran his fingers along the piano, his almost nonexistent fingers playing the final notes, the notes she forgot. She heard the song play but it was nothing to her, just idle music, no meaning, no emotion, no passion, it was...nothing.
He stood there, trapped between the living and the dead, his anchor to this world drifting further and further away, the chain snapped like the string of a balloon. He was drifting, leaving the world once a for all. He had tried to protect her, tried to comfort her on lonely, cold nights, but nothing worked, and now he need no longer worry.
She was Clarrisa Fray once more, the girl with the angels blood, the little girl that started a big war, the girl who forgot. She was the girl who would no longer notice his presence as it faded from existence. Never again would she wake up, screaming his name in to the darkness, she wouldn't loose sleep over his dissapearance and she'd never shiver the way she did at his ghostly touch.
He was almost gone, the words swirling in his mind, sung in her beautiful voice, the words that applied more to him and his beatless heart than he full, a live one. Before he fell away his mouth formed to words she failed to say, and the ones he need to.
You still have,
All of me...