How Jace Wayland Went Mad
Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and its characters belong to Cassandra Clare. No copyright infringement intended.
One-shot on the reasons Jace was driven to insanity.
001. Michael Wayland / Too Young
A small boy with blonde spirals on his head watches as his father's casket is lifted into the ground. Fellow Shadowhunters adorn white garments, their faces skins of despair. Michael Wayland was a good man.
A small boy watched his father die. He watched his father's blood puddle on the floor, let it color his boots as he hid until the monsters went away. Too young, he was thrust into adulthood. Too young, he was forced to accept death, new people, and new places.
Jonathan Christopher Wayland doesn't want to feel anymore. He flips off his emotions like a switch, as if he's simply turning off the lights in a room - the way he turns of the kitchen lamp after sneaking off to grab his midnight snack. He crafts a mask, composed of slight boredom, superiority, and devil-may-care attitude. He's being sent away from Idris to New York City - a place he's never even step foot in - to live with a family he can never call his own.
He is alone.
His father is dead, and he just wants to turn the world off. He will become what his father wanted - a warrior of the elite breed. He will train, he will fight, and he will throw himself at demons even if it could mean a certain death. He will rid the world of the abominable creatures, even if it costs him his very life.
That's what he was made for, anyway. Right?
So he enters his new life in Manhattan, with a sympathetic woman who calls him "Jace." With a room full of bare walls and moving boxes. With a new sister and brother who want so badly for him to accept them.
He wishes he could erase the looks of sympathy on their faces. He doesn't want their pity.
He is done feeling.
002. Clarissa Fray
Her red hair is the same color of the fire that flays him alive. He's like a vampire in the sun. He finally meets the girl who makes him want to turn the feelings back on. Who makes him realize that it's okay to give your love to another person, not just the small tid-bits Jace gives to Isabelle and Alec. But the universe spits in his face - she's his sister.
The whole thing makes him question what he's done wrong. What has he done to deserve such torture? Maybe he is really every bit of evil as his father, Valentine. The whole thing makes him want to pull his hair out. It's sick to love your sister, isn't it?
The way she looks at him, with those big doe eyes, she's like a kitten in a tiger suit.
And why - why - does she keep pushing him away? Why does she keep him close, only to shove him even further? It tears at him, sharply gnawing Jace into little pieces as if a seraph blade is clawing out his stomach.
She will never be his.
003. Kaelie
Her wings flutter near Jace's ears as he wraps her in his arms. Her light skin is glittering with thousands of sparkles embedded in her skin, like cosmic stars viewed from planet earth. Her body's pressed against his - lips to lips, chest to chest. She drives him wild, provides a good distraction.
Jace lets his mind sink into oblivion. He lets it drown, lets it become numb. Waits until he hits the bottom of the ocean, then doesn't swim back to the surface. He makes it so that his brain can no longer breathe, can no longer think. Lets his mind suffocate until it dies of asphyxiation. He doesn't want to do anything anymore. He doesn't want to think anymore. He just wants to be.
Then Clary walks in, catches her brother with Kaelie after Taki's store hours in a booth. Kaelie pulls away reluctantly, a mischievous grin painted on her complacent lips. Jace doesn't know what he looks like. He doesn't want to know, either.
But it's the look on Clary's face does it. Jace is done.
004. Traffic
If Jace's mind was a place, it would be Manhattan. It would be overcrowded, overpopulated with unwanted tourists. The sirens, the shouts, the fires, the honking of the cars - it's all too loud for Jace. He wants to escape. He wants to get away from his mini-Manhattan.
"Jace?"
The voice is sweet, like a melody carried over a frozen lake in the winter.
Jace's eyes flicker open.
"I'm sorry, Clary," says another voice. He puts a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe it just wasn't meant to be."
Jace looks at the girl standing before him. Her fiery red hair is tangled, her expression worn. He fishes in his mind for her identity - she's his girlfriend.
No - wait. That's wrong. Isn't she -
"Jace?" she says again, a little more anxious this time.
He opens his mouth, not trusting the words that will come out. When they do, he's only met with tragic expressions. "Aren't you my sister?"
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