Warning: This fic contains blood, violence, drugs, angst, and fluff. You have been warned. No yaoi, though.

"William Herondale, this was a terrible idea!" scolded an annoyed James Carstairs as he swung his sword-cane at one of the Moloch demons that the two teens were fighting. It had been Will's idea to go out that night on a demon-hunting mission, without telling anyone where they were going. Now, he was just beginning to regret said decision, as his arm was burning from the flames the demons spewed from their eyes. He and Jem both had avoided serious injury, though he did get a bit of a burn, and it was more than simply annoying. Much like his silver-haired parabatai, who was insistent on informing Will of what an utterly horrible plan this had been.

"You've said that nine times now," Will gritted out, leaping away as one of the Moloch demons lunged at him. His annoyance rose even more as he heard Jem's breathless laughter, and he growled to himself before sinking his seraph blade into the head of the demon that was attacking him. It disappeared in a puff of smoke, and he felt a sort of satisfaction settle itself in his chest. Only two more remained, and his parabatai was skillfully battling them both further down the alleyway.

William took a moment to simply watch. Jem, while sick and thin - "like he's doddering off to the grave," as Will himself had once said - was a very good Shadowhunter, and he shouldn't have a problem fighting these two. He had frustrated James a good many times with his protectiveness over the years, when he didn't think the silver boy could hold his own in a fight, and he knew better than to hurt the other boy's pride and help when he was managing fine on his own.

Will knew of Jem's pride better than anyone - he'd stayed up many nights with his parabatai, and knew just how much the other boy hated being treated like a child. James liked being able to take care of himself, and so William tried as much as possible to let him. Of course, this did not include when Jem was sick, for then Will would help him however he needed, regardless of how Jem felt about it.

The black-haired sixteen-year-old kept his eyes fixed on the fight before him, analyzing every step of Jem's feet, every movement of the Moloch demons' smoky bodies. He knew Jem was stumbling backward even before the other knew it himself, and he managed to get in between his parabatai and the demons before James even hit the ground. He heard the impact rather than saw it, and he cringed outwardly at the sound it made. He swiftly dispatched one of the demons, and moved onto the next. The other was larger and faster, and proved to be a tougher opponent, so before too long, Will was out of breath. The demon had backed him into a corner, and the boy was defending rather than attacking. He saw fire begin to flash in the creature's eye sockets, but before it could really hurt him, a seraph blade was thrust through its chest by none other than James himself.

The silvery teen was panting, and his usually-warm eyes held more pain than usual. Will ignored the dying demon and instantly rushed over to his best friend, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "James... are you..."

Before he could finish his sentence, Jem shook his head. "I am perfectly fine, William. I just tripped - it wasn't that big a deal." William opened his mouth in protest, but his parabatai had already grabbed his wrist and was drawing an iratze on the skin underneath the burn. "You're more hurt than I am."

Will sighed and felt the effects of the rune almost instantaneously, and relaxed his muscles. He chuckled, trusting his parabatai to tell him if he were truly injured. He figured it was okay not to worry. "You had me worried, James. I thought you'd really hurt yourself back there." He received no immediate response, so he continued to speak, "You were great, fighting those demons." Again, he got nothing more than a grunt in reply. His head perked up, and his midnight blue eyes searched his parabatai's silver ones. "James, if you're still mad at me, I am very sorry. I didn't mean to get us into such a mess." He reached out his hand to touch Jem's shoulder, and the other boy caught his wrist.

"I am not mad at you," he ground out, and Will saw that his eyes were slightly dull. He probably needed to go back to the Institute and take some more of his medicine, which was not unusual, though Jem's behavior definitely was. "I just-" As James started to continue, his voice thickened, and a few coughs shook his shoulders. Will was instantly on his feet, his hand on Jem's tense back, and felt the heat of the fever burning under his hand. That was alarming, but what was worse was the fact that Jem had cried out in pain when Will touched him.

"James..." Will began in a lowered voice, signaling that he meant business. "Show me your back." However, when his parabatai reached his arms around to attempt to lift his shirt, Jem's face contorted in pain and he began to fall forward. Of course, Will caught him before he hit the ground, and in a panic, lifted James's shirt so that he could assess the damage. He didn't expect the severe black and blue bruises across Jem's shoulders and upper back, nor the swelling. It took a moment for the shock to wear off, but then he quickly lifted him up to run him back to the Institute, being very mindful of his injuries. All the while, he prayed fervently that his parabatai would be okay, not realizing that he was speaking out loud.

"Please, please, please..."

Will was positive he reached the Institute in record time, and rushed James up to his room, shouting over his shoulder for Charlotte to come help him. Once he got Jem to his room, he swiftly removed his shirt and laid him on his stomach. It hadn't occurred to Will to draw an iratze yet, because he'd been in such a panic, but he quickly got his stele out and carefully placed the rune on his parabatai's back. The mark faded instantly, not at all helping Jem's wounds in the process.

He wasn't sure when Charlotte entered the room, but her face drastically paled as she witnessed the coloring on James's back, and she quickly let Brother Enoch in behind her. The Silent Brother slid gracefully over to Will and Jem, and began to inspect the damage. Will found himself unable to watch as the robed man ran his hands over Jem's back, and he hurried over to grab his parabatai's hand when Jem tensed in pain.

Brother Enoch was taking a long time assessing Jem's back, and with each touch, the boy would clench his fists tighter - his left hand in Will's, and his right clutching the sheets for dear life. William took a moment to remember just how much his parabatai meant to him - he could tell just by looking that Jem wasn't grabbing his hand as hard as he could've, so as not to hurt Will. The black-haired boy squeezed his hand encouragingly, and Jem's silver eyes opened just a tad, meeting Will's blue ones. The boy felt his insides flip at the pain in his best friend's eyes, and especially the slight sheen of tears in them. Though his friend had not allowed them to fall, Will knew he wanted to, and he wanted nothing more than to tell James that he wouldn't dare judge him for crying.

Through some unspoken communication, however, he seemed to manage it, for Jem's nose wrinkled ever so slightly before tears started to stream down his flushed cheeks. The Silent Brother was drawing runes on his back now, and James was clearly in a lot of pain. Will watched his eyes squeeze shut, but not before he caught the flash of shame in his silver orbs. Will almost wanted to cry himself, but blatantly refused. His parabatai needed him to be strong, so he was going to be. That was just how things worked.

It took Brother Enoch about ten agonizing minutes to finish on Jem's back, and in that time span, it appeared that the silver boy had passed out. Will was grateful - he didn't want his friend to have to go through something so painful awake.

He has multiple fractures in his ribs and shoulders. The runes I've placed on him are strong, but they will work slower than normal, because of his condition. I believe he will recover within a few days, but he shouldn't be allowed to move much for at least twenty-four hours, Brother Enoch explained, and Will cringed, resting his head on the bed beside his parabatai and loosening his grip on Jem's hand.

The Silent Brother had left very soon after he'd finished, and Will felt Charlotte's light hand on his shoulder. "Will..." she whispered in concern, and the black-haired boy shook his head quietly.

"I'd like to be alone with him, Charlotte. I'll take care of him," he whispered, cursing inwardly when his voice cracked a bit at the end. The small woman looked at him with unmasked concern and took a deep breath before nodding and walking out of the room, leaving the two parabatai alone.

As soon as the door closed, Will's wall came down. He hurriedly pulled a cloth from his pocket and started to wipe the sweat off of James's face, and he pressed his hand to his parabatai's forehead, testing his temperature. Feeling how hot he was, Will attributed it to the healing runes the Silent Brother had put on his best friend. There was really nothing he could do about it at the moment, so he just lowered his head back to the bed, feeling tears burn his eyes as he placed the handkerchief back in his pocket.

"Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa," he whispered, over and over again. My fault. My fault. My fault. And it really was.

At some point in his whispering and crying, he felt Jem's hand extract itself from his own, and then place itself on the top of his head. "Oh, William," came James's comforting, gentle voice. "This isn't your fault. Stop blaming yourself."

Will raised his head lightly and took Jem's hand in both of his own. "It is. If I hadn't suggested that we go out demon hunting in the first place, then you wouldn't be hurt right now. How is that not my fault?" He'd intended for his voice to come out harsher than it did. He couldn't ever be angry at Jem - he loved Jem more than he loved anyone. Jem was, in fact, his great sin.

"Because," Jem began, and tensed up when he moved the wrong way. Will instantly reached out to try and help him, though Jem shook his head, signaling that he was all right. "Because I shouldn't have tried to take on both of those demons at the same time. I overestimated myself. And that fall wouldn't have even hurt a healthy person." A look of self-loathing crossed the silver-headed boy's expression as he continued, "I'm worthless."

William felt rage well in his chest, and without really thinking about it, he shouted, "James Carstairs! How dare you..." His voice had trailed off, trembling with fury. He didn't want to take that tone with his beloved parabatai, and he most certainly didn't want the one person in the world whom truly loved him, to be angry with him. Mentally counting to ten, he reached out and gingerly brushed his fingers across Jem's overheated forehead, wincing at the feeling of his burning skin. "Don't talk like that about yourself," he whispered, resting his head on the bed beside James's, making sure the other boy's eyes were making contact with his own. "You're not worthless. I need you."

Jem opened his mouth to speak, a small, sad smile crossing his lips. But before he could, horrible coughing tore itself from his chest. He let out a cry of pain in between the coughs, and Will gently reached out to touch his back, barely managing not to. He instead rushed to go fix a glass of water for his friend, mixing some of the yin fen powder in it. He then hurried to sit beside James on the bed and pressed the rim of the glass to his parabatai's bloodstained mouth. He'd stopped coughing, but he did need some more of his medicine.

Instantly Jem's eyes widened and he shoved the glass away, coughing a few more times at the quickness of his movements. Will barely kept hold on the glass, and miraculously did not spill a single drop. He was shocked at the glazed look in his best friend's eyes, and even more so when he found that there were tears brimming in them.

"No!" Jem cried out, squeezing his eyes shut, and then started babbling nearly incoherently from both fever and panic. Will only understood bits and pieces of what he was saying, but he did hear when the silver-headed boy cried out for his mother. Heart aching, William put the cup down on James's bedside table and ran his fingers through his friend's tangled silver hair, hoping that it helped soothe him. It didn't at first, but gradually, Jem relaxed, even though he was still shaking and crying. Will absolutely couldn't stand it, and somehow found himself laying beside his friend, although he was on his side, facing the silver boy.

"James," he whispered quietly, and Jem's eyes opened slowly to meet Will's, realization dawning on him as he regained his senses. This happened from time to time during an attack, and particularly when Will would try and get Jem to drink some of the yin fen. He knew that Jem would get flashbacks of when that disgusting demon tortured him, forcing him to ingest the vile substance that James would become addicted to and need for day-to-day survival.

The silver-haired boy slowly reached up and touched his cheek, jumping a bit when he found tears there. Shame entered his expression, and he immediately looked away from his parabatai.

"I'm sorry. I have no reason to be crying," he whispered, and turned his gaze slowly back up to Will. "I don't want you to pity me. I..." He couldn't find anything else to say, and Will took a deep breath before he began rummaging around in his pocket.

He pulled out his handkerchief, and reached out to wipe the blood off of Jem's mouth and chin. His friend did not protest, which was a first. He was probably hurting too badly to do it on his own, Will realized, and bit the inside of his cheek before speaking. "You have no need to apologize to me, James. It's perfectly fine for you to cry. I understand. If something hurts, the natural reaction is to cry."

Jem sighed and closed his eyes, and another stray tear rolled sluggishly down his cheek. "May I say something very selfish?" he asked quietly, and Will blinked his eyes once in surprise.

"Of course!" he exclaimed without hesitation. If anyone deserved to be selfish, it would be Jem.

The silver-headed boy waited a few moments, which just served to build up some more tension in Will. Finally, he murmured, "I regret ever having agreed to come to this Institute. I wish we'd never become parabatai."

For at least a minute, Will was trying to comprehend what Jem had just said. His heart felt as though it had broken in two, and it was hard to find his voice again. "What?" he whispered, not caring how shaky the question came out. Jem was lucky he could speak at all.

"It's not because I don't love you," Jem whispered, voice thick with emotion as well. Will detected a small tremor at the end, as though the words hurt him as well. "It's because I do love you, Will. I love Charlotte, and Henry, and Thomas, and Jessamine, and Agatha, and Sophie. I love you all, and that is why I wish I'd never come here."

His words still made no sense to Will. Yes, it felt wonderful to hear his parabatai say that he loved him - Jem was the only person he wanted love from, and for him to offer it so freely was wonderful. He didn't hear "I love you" often, so when James actually said it out loud, it was near blissful. After several moments of contemplating his friend's statement, he managed to ask, "Why is that, James?"

A soft cough escaped Jem, and scarlet drops appeared on his lips. He reached out to take Will's handkerchief and wipe feebly at his own mouth before he spoke. "Because I can't leave you. I need to leave, so badly," he whispered, clearly trying hard not to cry again. "I'm so tired of fighting death. I feel like if I just stopped taking the yen fen for a few days, that would do it. It hurts, William. I don't know if you understand quite how much."

"I understand," Will replied, hating himself for allowing his voice to tremble. His eyes were burning with unshed tears, and Jem's face was blurry, but he refused to cry. He was not the one in physical pain, although having to hear once again that Jem was dying felt as though someone had punched him in the gut. "You're only staying here because we love you, and it would hurt us if you left."

Jem nodded, reaching out to touch Will's cheek. That was the last straw. Will felt wetness roll down his face, and shut his eyes tightly. A few choking sobs escaped him as Jem petted his hair and wiped away his tears with a tenderness that could only belong to James Carstairs.

"Don't cry, William," he whispered softly and shakily, though the fact his injured, sick friend was trying to comfort him only made the black-haired boy cry harder. Eventually Jem's arms wrapped around him, and he embraced his friend in return, albeit as gently as possible.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed there like that, but he knew it was at least half an hour. Eventually he stopped crying, and pulled away from Jem. He noticed that those silver eyes were ringed with pink, puffy skin, and realized that his friend had been crying as well. Feeling anger begin to rise in his chest, Will jabbed a finger toward his parabatai, attempting to look authoritative, although said task was difficult whilst laying on one's side.

"You will not leave me," he commanded, and Jem looked a bit confused, before light sprang into his eyes and he broke into laughter. This confused and frustrated Will, who shot a glare at his best friend. "What on earth do you find funny about that statement, James?" he demanded.

Jem laughed for a few more seconds, before wincing at the pain in his back and composing himself. "There is a reason I'm still here, you know," he said, his silver eyes gentle, holding so much affection that Will needed so much. "I do not want to leave you. Every day is better with the people I love, and while I usually say otherwise, I fear death," he admitted. "It is always better to live, even though it hurts. I would never leave you on purpose."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

Will inhaled deeply to calm himself and pressed his hand over the parabatai rune on Jem's chest - the mark that bound them for life. "I love you, brother," he murmured, and Jem let out a breathy laugh.

"I love you too," he replied, and closed his eyes from exhaustion. It was clear he was struggling to stay awake, and Will did not fear letting him get to sleep. At least, not now. He knew James would keep his promise and stay.

Shifting softly to edge himself away, Will decided to ask, "Do you want me to get out of the bed?" The silver boy opened one eye and smiled softly.

"I do not care either way. I'll be asleep," he murmured, closing his eye again. "Do whatever makes you feel better."

So, Will shifted himself to get more comfortable, and took hold of one of Jem's wrists, his fingers feeling for a pulse. He found it quickly - it was fast, but steady and strong, and quickly slowing down as Jem started to fall asleep. Will smiled softly and lay his own head down, still holding his parabatai's wrist. He couldn't believe how fortunate he was to have been blessed with James Carstairs. He would have been dead many times over if it were not for the silver-headed boy, and without him now, he would have no reason to even be alive. Having one person to love and be loved by... that was enough.

Will felt himself slowly began to fall asleep, feeling Jem's warmth across the small space that divided them.

Less than three hours later, daylight woke Jem. His pale eyes opened slowly, and he was immediately aware of a light pressure on his wrist. He looked up at his slumbering dark-haired companion with a gentle smile, and reached up with his free hand to touch the parabatai mark peeking from beneath Will's black t-shirt. He then tested his back, and was relieved to find that it was already feeling much better. He no longer felt so unbearably sick, either, and so he quietly began to sit up. Will's grip immediately tightened on his wrist, as if he were afraid that Jem was leaving, although the other boy was still asleep.

Jem let a light laugh escape him as he lay back down, resting his head on the pillow beside his brother. He gripped Will's hand in his own and sighed quietly, a smile still on his lips. He reflected on the day he came into the Institute, and remembered Will's remark about how he looked as though he were doddering off to the grave.

"Not quite yet," he whispered aloud, scanning his sleeping parabatai's face. He noticed a ghost of a smile on the Herondale's lips, and the corners of his mouth quirked up a bit in response. Will never looked so peaceful, or so at ease. Jem hoped he was having good dreams, and was reminded once again of how fortunate he was to have a best friend such as William Herondale. No matter how much he wished he could just embrace death every now and then, he was so happy that Will had asked him to be his parabatai. The only thing he would change about this life would be if he could just stop taking the stupid drug. But then again, if that demon had never attacked he and his parents, he would never have developed such an addiction, and consequently would never have come to this Institute. In the end, he supposed everything had worked out perfectly. Yes, his life was perfect, in its own imperfect way. He was surrounded by people he loved, and who loved him in return. He could not ask for anything more.

As he watched Will sleep, and heard a small mumble escape his friend's parted lips, one thought crossed his mind, over and over again.

"I do not regret a thing."

Fluff galore. This took forever to type up T.T I love Will and Jem's relationship so much. Platonic, of course. I wish things had ended differently for them all. I loved The Infernal Devices so much more than the original Mortal Instruments, as I feel the relationships were stronger. Jem and Will were just such a perfect pair! Tessa's wonderful, too, but I feel like Will and Jem just had the absolute perfect parabatai relationship. I do not feel like any of the others had such a strong bond.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! And if any of you are wondering why I'm not updating my other stories, I have serious writer's block, and I am so sorry. Please forgive me!

As always, feel free to read, review, critique, pm me, whatever ^^ I don't bite!

I am incredibly sorry if anyone's OOC. Please tell me if that's the case, and I will endeavor to do better next time!

Disclaimer: The Infernal Devices belongs to Cassandra Clare. I am also not Cassandra Clare. She's the best.

God bless you all!

anim8or