A/N: So, I'm having difficulty with my other stories and decided to write this little one-shot after being inspired by BlondeHairBlueEyes14's one-shot My Fault. This is pretty sad, but I'm kinda in funk today. Its my first one-shot, so it may suck.

Just breathe. Don't forget to breathe. You can do this. The thoughts rattled around on an endless loop inside her mind. You have to do this. For him. For Jace. Clary felt the sharp sting rip through her chest at the thought of her love. They were supposed to be on their honeymoon right now. Supposed to be happily married. But things never go as planned.

She inhaled a ragged gasp of breath and looked in the mirror. The reflection she saw did not look like hers. Where her brilliant and bright emerald green eyes once had been were now a dull and lifeless opaque color. Her face was sallow and she had a cut ranging across more than half of it. She refused to have an iratze drawn on her to heal the ugly gash; she wanted to wear this cut with honor, though she had none. Her fiery tendrils hung around her face almost as if they could shield her from the world. No, this cannot be me. Even while the thought passed through, the nagging voice in the dark crevices of her mind responded, this is what you deserve to look like. An unclean murderer.

Tears welled up and cascaded down her face. "I'm a killer." She whispered to herself.

She had been so lost in her internal battle that she never noticed that someone had entered her room, "Clary. This isn't your fault. It's nobodies fault except the demon that did it." Alec's voice sounded rough and raw.

Clary turned to look at him with bleary eyes, "How can you say that? It is my fault. If I hadn't blown off training and actually learned to fight, he wouldn't have had to protect me. Or if I had listened to him and run, he wouldn't have been distracted. He is dead because of me, Alec. Because I'm weak." Sobs rocked through her body causing her to tremble. "Our wedding day was supposed to the greatest and happiest day of our lives and it definitely wasn't supposed to be his last day."

Alec stepped closer to his weeping sister and wrapped his arms around her, "He wouldn't want you like this. He'd want you to be happy, Clary. And above all, he would not want you to feel guilty."

Clary shook her head and laid it on his chest, "How am I expected to be happy without him? He was my everything. My sun, my heart, my breath, just everything. I feel like my body has been ripped into two pieces. I'm not whole without him."

Alec stroked her hair in an effort to soothe her and glanced at the clock, "We have to go. It's time."

"I don't want to."

"I know you don't, but its what you need. You'll never get over him unless you do this."

"Maybe I don't want to get over him." She grumbled under her breath.

Alec gave one short grim laugh, "I know that seems easier, but it isn't what you want. Not really. Think about how unhappy you would be; you would always be stuck in the past while the rest of us went on with our lives. Does that sound fun?"

Silence enveloped them for a minute before she could respond, "I guess you're right. Let's go." She pulled away from his warmth and sat up straight. She sniffled as she stood up and smoothed out her mourning dress. She looked at Alec and saw that she wasn't the only one who was having a hard time dealing with the loss. He looked up and met her gaze and she gave him a sad smile and held out her hand, "C'mon brother, lets get this over with."

Alec took her outstretched hand and together they ventured through the institute and outside where the whole family was waiting. The Lightwoods were all wearing expressions of heartache and remorse. Jocelyn and Luke had solemn looks upon their faces, but their eyes were glistening with tears.

Clary and Alec walked up to and joined them around the grave. Clary looked at the gravestone made of blonde stone as glowed gold in the rays from the sunset and another sad smile played its way at her lips. Golden just like him. Even in death, he radiates golden warmth.

Clary had asked that she choose the words inscribed in the grave marker and once her wish had been granted she chose three words that described him perfectly: brother, husband, hero. The words were engraved under his name and under those were the shadowhunter tradition: ave atque vale.

Clary walked up to the stone and knelt down, putting her hand on the fresh dirt and whispered "I'll always love you, Jace. Forever."