Author's Note: Hey this is the Salty Captain here, back from writing her very own book. While I'm waiting to be published, I'm writing fan fiction to keep my creative juices flowing. So, this is just a random thing to start me off again. It's about if Sebastian/Jonathan and Clary got to say their last words to each other before the final battle. Sebastian is basically taking Clary to Valentine and I felt that there were a lot of hidden meanings behind their relationships and a lot we didn't see. So, without further ado, the one shot, Unspoken!

Unspoken

Clary felt a familiar aura about her as her eyelids slowly fluttered open. They were damp from an unknown substance and heavy from hours of unconsciousness. A soft warm object enveloped every part of her body and she tried to move, shift and grasp reality once again. The warmth tightened its grip around here and it was only then that she noticed the starts above were moving and she was one something; someone's back. She shifted again wearily, only for her body to silently cry out in pain, every muscle aching along with her pounding brain. A low chuckle rang out in the night.

"So you've finally woken up?" he said, the laughter still evident in his voice. She stayed silent, put peered around. She was in some form of forest, almost in pitch black if it weren't for the moon, a tiny shining dot amongst the other shining stars. Everything blurred and jutted as Sebastian walked across the grass floor.

"What's going on?" she asked wearily. There was an element of venom in her voice, to which he shrugged quietly.

"I'm taking you to Valentine," he said quietly. "So you can get one last chance."

"One last chance for what?" she spat. Her voice sounded faint and far off to her as she tried to shove herself once more feebly on his back. He kept his hands softly but firmly around her ankles, like fleshy shackles. She gave up and rested her head against his shoulder, exhaustion and nausea lapping over her. She could see her own blood stains on her back. Sebastian chuckled again.

"For you to join us. It's stupid to fight our own father," he said. "You're fighting a losing battle.

"After all he's done? Yeah, he really loves me," she muttered sarcastically.

"Yeah, I feel sorry for you, but he was busy with me, I guess," he said casually, as if he weren't her worst enemy; as if things were different.

"I'm the one who's sorry. You had to put up with Valentine all your life," she said. "Let go of me."

"I'm taking you to him, there's no point resisting," he said as she dug her heel in his leg futilely. He shifted her feather-like weight on his back, moving her higher up and making himself less vulnerable to failed attacks.

"What, following daddy's orders? Are you his pet?" That made him stop in his tracks. He glanced around slightly, craning his neck, to glare at her. For a moment, his eyes looked like depthless black holes that would swallow her up, but her grinned maliciously and continued walking, turning around again. Clary caught the breath she had been holding.

"I'm just fighting for the right side. We should have the freedom to banish demons from this world without rules. We shouldn't be siding with Downworlders and the mundane."

"You say that yet...." she started and choked back a clot of blood and vomit that were rising up her throat. She felt so sick and the world was spinning more violently now. A futile feeling of hopelessness was washing over her. Her eyelids faltered slight, but she pressed on. "You have demon blood in you."

"I have the best of both worlds, Clary," he said. His tone was so casual, with a suppressed air of triumph that made Clary want to stab him in the back like he had done Hodge. It made her blood boil, under all the haze.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Because, I want a better world. For all of us," he said, but his tone was bland and monotone, without emotion. He sighed and glanced at her again, this time for a longer period. "We don't have to fight Clary."

"Don't act like you're my friend, you killed Max you sick bastard," she said. He grinned momentarily but the serious expression on his brow remained. His eyes were cold and hard, almost staring straight through her.

"It doesn't have to be like this. Valentine cares about you and we can stay together. If things were different Clary, we would have grown up together and you'd understand. Why can't you just listen to our father for once?"

"Because he's sick and you haven't seen what I've seen," she said, her voice cracking.

"You're right; I've seen him do worse, all for the greater good."

"There is no greater good if he lets the Clave fall."

"So, you're not going to join us then?" he asked, raising a brow. For a moment she actually thought about it. If things were different, he had said. Could she still save everyone she loved? They didn't have to di. But the rest of the Clave...Magnus and all the rest, would die. She couldn't live with that. He was a monster who only sought to quell his own thirst for blood.

"Bite me," she whispered. He rolled his eyes.

"To think I even kissed you," he muttered. Something sharp and hit her head, and the world fell asleep.