We're Okay, a mortal instruments fanfic

People change and forget to tell each other.

Lillian Hellman

"Really? You know a guy?" She turned to her friend slightly, tilting her face away from the glaring sun. They were sitting out on the porch, staring at the front yard.

"I don't really know him. I've just heard of him. His work is pretty good, I guess." Isabelle replied, clicking away on her phone. Clarissa instantly knew she was texting Simon. No one stole her attention like he did.

Rolling her eyes, she opened the door to her house and slipped inside. Winter was indeed coming. Clarissa didn't bother waiting for Isabelle to come in. She trudged to the kitchen and tugged out a bowl. She mixed some cocoa, sugar, and salt. Just as she was about to whisk the mixture, Isabelle appeared, her hair rustled by the wind.

"Call him, will you?" She asked her, removing two mugs from the cupboard.

Isabelle nodded, smiling. "What's the rush?"

Clarissa scoffed in annoyance. "Jon'll be here soon. He's been through a lot. I need this place to be perfect."

Isabelle sighed, reaching for her purse. "Whatever you say."

Jace printed the contract and made his way around the apartment room. Glancing wearily to the woman on his bed, he left, hoping when he returned, she'd be smart enough to disappear.

"Oh, hello!" She greeted, her eyes wide with surprise. She threw open the door, her lips forming into a small frown. "Aren't you supposed to be here at one?"

He raised an eyebrow. "It's one o' five."

Her cheeks warmed. "I'm sorry. I wasn't keeping track of-"

"No need." His response was curt, as if he didn't want to listen to her anymore. She cursed her lack of time management and nodded as he continued. "I'm just here for the contract. You know, get everything set."

"Okay." She moved away from the door and gave him enough room to step inside. She followed after him anxiously. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No." He stood near a couch, his hands holding a small stack of papers. She motioned for him to sit on the couch.

"I know I'm kind of a mess." She perched next to him, making sure at least a foot of space was between them. "My name is Clarissa Fairchild." She reached out her hand.

"Jace Wayland."

"It's nice to meet you." She uttered, trying for a grin.

He either didn't see her or didn't care.

"I've got three designs ready. You can choose from these options or plan out a custom idea." He showed her three pictures. He was much taller than her so she unknowingly leaned into him, her head nearly resting on his forearm. He stiffened, but she didn't notice.

Clarissa hummed. She tapped her finger on the second one. "I like this."

"Alright." He shuffled through a folder and gave her a thin packet. "These are some things to sign."

"Thank you." She watched as he grabbed his things and readied himself to leave. She hesitated. "Jace? When can you start?" It was the first time she had used his name. He turned slightly, locks of his golden hair flopping lightly.

"Is there a hurry? Some deadline I need to meet?" He sounded irritated. She wanted to remind him that for now, she was technically his boss. He couldn't treat her like that. Instead, she found herself inclining her head.

"Well, I need this done before my brother arrives."

Jace pursed his lips. "And when is that?"

She glanced to the ground quickly. He had a way of making her feel guilty for no reason. His tone was always bordering on rude and careless. "A month. He's coming after Christmas."

There was a few moments of silence. Then he sighed. "I'll figure it out."

"What are you complaining about now?" Isabelle mused, taking a munch of her cheesy chips. Clarissa was washing dishes, her back turned to her.

"The stupid landscaper, you idiot!" Even though Isabelle couldn't see her friend's face, she knew her eyes were probably blazing and her eyebrows drawn angrily.

"What about him?"

Clarissa finally whirled to face her, the front of her shirt wet with soap and water. "I should've never hired him. He's a real jerk."

Isabelle licked her fingers briskly and stood up. "What'd he do?"

"I don't know." Clarissa stopped, releasing a breath. "It's like he doesn't give a shit. He cuts me off when I talk and when I suggest something, he ignores me." She peered at Isabelle helplessly. "I can't do anything about it."

Patting her shoulder, Isabelle reassured her the only way she could. "Remember, he'll only be here for a month. What's the worst that could happen?"

He came by every weekday, prepared with his equipment and a truck filled to the top with wood. When she greeted him, he responded abruptly, with a haste that annoyed her. After a few hours of work, she'd ask him if he was thirsty. He would say no and she'd leave a large glass of cold water on the cement next to him.

When evening approached and Jace was covered in bits of grime and dust, Clarissa invited him inside to wash up. He would refuse and she'd say goodbye. All he replied with was a tip of his cap.

And that was that.

She shoved her gloves on and shouldered her coat on. Outside, snow was falling steadily and the windshields of cars were being wiped and cleaned. Clarissa slipped into her red boots. Despite having them since the age of fifteen, they still fit perfectly. When she locked the front door, she found Jace arriving, his blue truck rumbling on the concrete of her driveway. She walked towards him. "Good morning." She said, with a small smile. The cold was biting into her skin.

"Morning." He answered gruffly, grabbing a toolkit from the passenger's seat. She waited for him to step out of the vehicle.

He looked tired, gray bags under her eyes. Guilt immediately flooded her. She knew she was rushing him. That he was putting in a lot of extra work to get the patio done before the deadline. She shook her head, finally noticing that her body was blocking his path. He was staring at her with a mixture of confusion and exasperation. "Uh," She started. "I'm heading out for a few hours... I just wanted to know if you wanted the house unlocked." She glanced at him from her peripheral vision. "Because of the weather."

He exhaled slowly, his breath coming out in a white puff. "No. No, thanks."

Clarissa nodded.

She took a cup of tea and balanced it in her hand while opening the door to the backyard. Fortunately, he had already built a platform to walk on. She peered around and found him dragging a large fabric across the snow covered grass. Placing the cup on the ground carefully, Clarissa rushed over to him, and from the other side, lugged the material in the direction he desired. He didn't say anything, only bit his lip. When the two dumped the landscape underneath the wooden level he had constructed, she offered him the tea.

At first, she thought he'd refuse, like always. This time, though, he took it. "Thanks."

She grinned, more in victory than kindness. Burying her face into the softness of her jacket, Clarissa sat next to him on a little patch of dried turf. "What was that thing we carried?"

He was staring at the yard, his face expressionless. "A weed barrier. Once spring comes around," he pointed to the wood he had collected thus far, "it'll protect your plants."

"Oh." She mumbled, unaware of all the work that went into this sort of set up.

"Jace?"

He hummed in reply, like he was lost in thought and hadn't realized she was talking to him.

"What's up with that tattoo?" He turned to face her now, his cheeks flushed from the chilly air. His tawny orbs followed hers and rested on the image of a pair of glasses on his forearm. It appeared simple enough.

"Nothing important." Jace muttered, the atmosphere growing tense. She frowned, but let the subject go.

"I'll see you later." Clarissa told him, before dragging herself into the house, dissatisfied by their conversation.

She clicked through her channels, vexed by the sight of black screens lacking any signal. She made a frustrated sound and settled on the news. A red headline flashed vividly on the corner of the television screen. She tuned in lazily, turning the volume up. The weather man strolled to the center of a map of New York, speaking of a blizzard that was coming quickly. It was severe and all civilians had to stay in their homes. Railroads were shut down. Bus rides had been cancelled. The snow was projected to reach four feet in a matter of hours. Clarissa threw the blanket off of her body and rushed to the back door. She pushed it open and felt a gust of wind pierce through her thin clothing.

"Jace!" She called.

He whirled around. He had been placing a plastic cover over the wooden structure he had finished up with. She ushered for him to come closer.

"You need to get in. You can't stay outside like this." She widened the gap between herself and the door so that he could enter.

He hesitated. Snowflakes clung to his dark lashes and his jacket was slightly wet. "Come on, stupid!" She snapped and that was enough for his lumbering body to enter.

Clarissa pushed the door shut in relief. She cursed softly and wrapped her arms about her chest. She peered to Jace and saw that he was sitting on the edge of her couch, dully observing the alerts on the news channel. She trudged so that she was in front of him. "I have a fireplace." She felt nervous as she spoke. This was the first time he had been in her house since the signing of their contract. The quiet in the living room was overwhelming. "You can take off your coat and shoes. You'll just track a mess anyway." She led him to the dining room. It was both where she ate and where she relaxed.

Clarissa gathered a few logs of wood and threw them into the hearth. Ripping a piece of a newspaper next to her, she lit the flame and tossed it forward. "Let me grab a blanket. Would you like some hot chocolate?" She found him watching her, his normally golden eyes swallowed by blackness.

"Sure." The response startled her, but she managed to make her way gracefully to the kitchen.

"Okay." She announced, coming into the room. Jace was staring at the rising fire, his back to her. "Here ya go." She settled down in front of him and placed their mugs on the hardwood floor. Rubbing her hands together gingerly, Clarissa snuck a glance at him. "I'm sorry. If I had realized there would be a blizzard tonight, I wouldn't have had you come."

He shrugged. "It happens."

"I guess." She paused thoughtfully. "Have you contacted your family?"

He unbuttoned his jacket and slid it off. Underneath, he was wearing a black short-sleeved shirt. Her eyebrows furrowed. That wasn't nearly enough in this kind of weather. "No need."

"Oh, alright then." She took a sip of her cocoa, relishing in its taste and warmth. The room was dark, only illuminated by the fierce light of the fireplace. She tried to stare anywhere but at Jace. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. Just how long would he remain with her?

Clarissa rinsed the two cups and left them out to dry. She ventured to the hallway near her bedroom and opened the door of her closet. She bent down to the lower shelf and tugged out two sheets. Though she lived alone, she was used to Isabelle crashing in and managed to ready materials for her nights over. She kicked her foot out to close the closet and stepped carefully forward only to crash against something heavy and rigid. Gasping in alarm, she realized the blankets had fallen. It was Jace who was in front of her. He looked apologetic. "Are you okay? I was just trying to find the bathroom."

Clarissa tossed her hair away from her forehead. They were standing so close. Their chests nearly touched. She moved backwards. "I'm fine. The bathroom's there." She pointed to a space he had missed. He nodded and walked off. When his figure disappeared, she tried desperately to breathe. She carried the blankets again and dropped them onto the floor.

He appeared a few minutes later. Now that she could observe him so openly, she registered just how large of a man he was. He was tall, almost reaching the height of the door. His body was lean and she knew instantly that he worked out frequently. His face was the most alluring aspect of him. His skin was a hue of white and gold. His hair was long, its locks silky and curled. The tawny specks on his eyes made him seem both serene and dangerous. And his lips, he nearly never smiled. Clarissa looked away, afraid he'd catch her.

"Clarissa?" At the sound of her name, she felt her fingers tremble.

"Yea?" She hoped her voice didn't squeak.

He was leaning against a wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "The blizzard doesn't end until tomorrow afternoon. I wasn't planning to stay, but I can't even find my truck from the window." She understood immediately. In his own way, he was asking to stay the night. She almost smiled, but covered her mouth just in time.

"Don't worry. I know what you mean."

She gave him the guest room Isabelle usually resided in. He didn't complain. She didn't expect him to. "Is the bed fine? I know it's small..." She faltered.

"It's fine. Thanks." He sat on the corner of the mattress.

"Okay." Clarissa made sure he had enough sheets and pillows, then paused near the doorway. "Good night."

His head tilted upwards. His hair fell recklessly across his skin. She caught the twitch of his lips. "Night."

She launched herself forward on the bed, fear gnawing at her heart. The crash was enough to form goose bumps on her body. She pushed herself to the ground and ran towards Jace's room, half expecting to see a robber in the house. When she opened the door, she found the landscaper on the hardwood, head covered with his hands. She inched closer. "Jace?"

He grunted, the only response he could give. Clarissa sat beside him and hesitantly pulled his arms downward. His skin was hot. "What's wrong?" She asked, suddenly confused and worried.

"Why the fuck is she here?" He spat, his tone vicious.

She flinched and found what he was pointing at. It was a picture of Isabelle on her cabinet. The photo had been taken two years back. Isabelle was wearing a bikini, her head thrown back elegantly in delight. To them, it was such a bad pose. To everyone else, she probably resembled a model. "That's Isabelle. She's my friend." She waited for him to say anything, but when he didn't, she continued. "How do you know her?"

Jace shook his head. She caught a glimpse of his red-rimmed eyes. "You know, don't you?" She knew well enough that he was accusing her of something.

Clarissa held her hands up defensively. "Jace, I don't know what you're talking about. Isabelle's a close friend. That's all." She brought her fingers to his shoulder. He tensed and moved away. She didn't know what to do. This was a side of him she'd never seen or interacted with. She was scared, her heart pounding wildly like a drum.

"Shit." He rubbed his face. "I don't-I thought..." He didn't finish what he was going to say.

Gently, Clarissa scooted closer to him. He was radiating intense heat. "I can't make you feel better if you won't tell me what's wrong."

And then he sobbed.

The sounds he produced were heart wrenching. She didn't know him. He was a stranger to her. And yet here he was, sitting in her house, crying about something she didn't know about. Clarissa did the only thing she could do. She embraced him. Whatever fight she expected him to give her was gone. His muscles were hard against her thin frame. He was murmuring something she couldn't hear. His right hand is wrapped around her waist, his left clasped into her mess of hair. Reluctantly, she moved away. He seemed unwilling to let go.

"Tell me." She demanded, her green eyes wide and honest. Their faces were centimeters apart.

He swallowed. "It's not that fucking easy." His hard tone was back again.

She insisted. "Then let me hear the easy parts."

He complied.

"That girl, I knew her." He wiped his nose with his palm. He wasn't staring at her when he spoke. It was as if he was recalling another time, one she wasn't a part of. "Four years ago, when I was eighteen, I went to a party. It was typical. Drinks and girls. I invited this guy over. He didn't go to our school but I guess I liked his company. His name was Sebastian. We stayed for a couple of hours. Eventually, Sebastian and I got separated. It wasn't a big deal to me. We'd find each other later." His voice broke. Clarissa offered him a glass of water but he waved her away, clearing his throat.

"Then, around three or four a.m., I heard it. It was a gunshot. I knew it was. I was outside, in the backyard at the time. I heard screaming, all kinds of shit. I ran inside. For some reason, I knew something bad happened." His eyes closed. He looked tired talking about it.

"When I got to the living room, I saw the body. It was a little boy."

"Max." Clarissa whispered softly, her orbs glassy.

Jace's head snapped up at the name. "You knew him?"

Silently and afraid she'd break down, she nodded. He persisted, like he had to get this thing off his chest. "I didn't know the kid. I just saw the blood. Everywhere. I remember crumbling to my knees." He rested his head backwards on the surface of the bed. "That's when I noticed Sebastian. He was holding a gun. He looked scared. He was staring at me." Jace released a groan. "I didn't know what to do. The boy, he was dead. The party was long over. The police came. They arrested Sebastian and I. In the department, they questioned us, talked to witnesses. I was let go."

Jace finally faced her. "I moved across the country to get away. And now I get here..."

Clarissa rubbed at her face. She hadn't realized she was crying. She was breathing rapidly. Placing her face in her hands, she tried to say anything. Who was she supposed to comfort? She knew about Max. Knew about his murder. She remembered that day clearly. Because she had been there. She had seen it all.

"I was there." Clarissa admitted, her lips almost pouting. She tried to keep her face firm, but it crumbled nonetheless. "I saw it. I saw him shoot Max. I was there!" She was screaming hysterically, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"What?" He asked. His skin had paled. There was an emotion she recognized in his eyes. Horror.

"It was Isabelle's house. The party was there. I was in the dining room when it happened. He just came, out of nowhere, Isabelle had told him to stay upstairs. He had to stay in his room. He was just a kid. She didn't want him ratting us out to their parents." Clarissa dug her fingernails into her palm.

"I don't know. I saw Max in the living room. He looked confused, like he didn't know where he was. Everything happened so fast. I was scared. Scared he'd tell the Lightwoods that we were having a party. We'd get busted. I started forward, but then this guy came out of nowhere. Nobody knew him. He shot Max. And he, he just died right there. I blacked out."

Long moments of stillness followed, only interrupted by Clarissa's small whimpers. They could both hear the roar of the blizzard in the background. They didn't know what time it was. How late at night they had managed to awaken. All was a blur.

For nearly an hour, they were silent.

Then Jace spoke. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

He didn't think she would respond, but she did, her voice coming out raspy and worn out. "We all didn't know."

They slept, two people suddenly feet apart.

Clarissa blinked, taking in the sight of the sun's rays upon the furniture in the room. She lifted herself with her elbows, wondering if it was just a bad dream. When she saw Jace's body curled around a pillow, she knew it wasn't. She was shaken up. Shaken up for herself and for her best friend. Rising to her feet, she tiptoed out of the room, trying to wash away the night's memories.

She came out of the shower, found him standing near the bathroom. He looked disheveled. With a towel around her bare body, she walked past him without saying a word.

His arm shot out and grasped her hand. She halted.

"I didn't-" He released a breath. "I didn't come here to see you guys. I came for the job."

"I know." She answered quietly, sauntering to her room.

Review. Two-shot.