I do not own the Infernal Devices or any of the characters, everything belongs to Cassandra Clare. This is just my alternate ending of the books.

It was a facade.

My life was all a big lie. This 'arrogant' and 'self centered' version of Will Herondale was NOT the real Will Herondale. I felt emotion and love and pain and everything that stopped my heart from becoming an empty black hole. But I had to pretend I didn't care. I hid behind a sarcastic facade and my frivolous ways, all to hide the truth which was, all along, a lie.

William Herondale. What does that even mean? W-i-l-l-i-a-m H-e-r-o-n-d-a-l-e. Does it even have a meaning? I am who I am. Or so I thought.

I was tricked. I was tricked by a demon. Outsmarted. I was told, on a very memorable and traumatic day that I don't wish to recall, that I was cursed. Forever. Anyone that I ever loved would die. That curse ruined my life and stopped me from admitting my true feelings for someone, who I quickly realised, after it was too late, that I could have had all along. Her eyes. Truth laid in those eyes. Hope. Despair. Unimaginable love. All burning together like a golden comet in the night sky. Doomed to cause destruction with its beauty. Her hair. Those locks of silk that I used to run my hands through. Her lips. So soft. So willing. So perfect.

Tessa.

Jem. James Carstairs. My best friend. My parabatai. Tessa's fiancé.

Jem was one of those men that you couldn't help but love. The kind of man that would rescue a baby bird if it had been seperated from its mother. The kind of man who would smile at anyone to make them smile too. The kind of man Tessa needed. The kind of man I wasn't.

I remember. It was a spring night. The London moon was hanging like a delicate decoration that lit up the night sky. I remember Tessa standing there. Everything good about her had been magnified 1000 times, but as she took one step closer I took one step back. I wanted her. However, she was not mine. She never could be. Could she? She took two steps closer this time, our hands searched frantically for something to hold, something to show we both cared. And then suddenly... She kissed me.

It was delicate at first. A million butterflies dancing on my lips. But then it grew into a need. A need to kiss her and tell her I was in love with her. A need that I shouldn't, and couldn't fulfill. I pulled away sharply and looked into her eyes.

I turned and began to walk away, tears stinging in my own eyes. I needed to go, from Tess, from everyone at the institute. I couldn't even start to comprehend my own thoughts, they would not be able to either. I needed to go. With one last look, I whispered the only words she needed to hear to understand why I was leaving.

"Jem".

On that spring night, with the slight breeze and the dozens of stars, it was the last time I ever saw Theresa Gray. Tessa. Tess.

Sharpening my pace I made my way to London bridge. I needed to think. It was quiet, but my mind was a collage of noise and memories. What options did I have? If I went back to Tessa I would break Jem's already dying heart. But if I stayed for Jem then my own heart would break seeing him every day with the only girl I'd ever truly loved. There was only one option left.

The murky Thames water below me flowed silently. It was deadly.

I remember when I first saw the Thames. A great landmark, a place of beauty that brought pride for London and its inhabitants. They were wrong. It was dark, miserable and murky. People's perceptions can change, they did for the Thames and they did for me. In a sense me and this river were similar. I needed to be closer to it.

I removed my hat and coat and carefully laid them down beside me. There was not a single person nor carriage on the bridge with me. So I jumped.

I hit the cold, dark water and the sound around me resembled that of a mirror shattering. Or my heart.

The cold started to seep into my bones, engulfing me in hyperthermia. The pain made it real. It made everything real. Sometimes if I didn't have my eyes open I doubt I'd know the difference between dreaming and waking. Or death. Because within an instant my facade, my feelings, my love and despair were gone. Soon followed my life.

That spring night was a very long time ago. My death didn't mean the end. But it meant the end of William Herondale. I was reborn. I gave up everything, including my life, to help those who needed helping, to be selfless. The things I never did as William Herondale. I became a silent brother.

Although I miss everyone I used to know I now have other people to care for. A boy. A man. Goes by the name of Jace. He reminds me so much of myself as a young man. His sarcasm, his love for his friends and family and his hatred of ducks. Everything that made me who I was. Jace. His young friend, Clary I believe, reminds me of someone. Her eyes seem familiar. Truth, hope, despair. I must be mistaken.

I am no longer William Herondale. That was a very long time ago.

I chose a silent brother's name when they first found me on that night in the Thames.

Brother Zachariah.