The first few months after Will's death, Jem felt like dying himself.

He supposed it was because that they used to be parabatai- sharing a bond that was closer than brothers- so the pain that came with losing Will was something to be expected and inevitable. But Brother Enoch's voice rang clear in his head.

You two no longer share a bond the moment you choose the path of the Silent Brothers, Brother Zachariah.

That was true, as well. He could no longer feel the connection between Will and himself; he would know if there were still any traces of that fragile link.

So why did it hurt so much when Will died?

"You look really distracted, Jem- ah, Brother Zachariah," Tessa commented during one of their annual meetings at the Blackfriar Bridge.

It was the year 1939, barely two years after Will's death. Tessa was wearing her favorite blue sundress, the very same one that was given to her by Will five years back. She was looking at the view of the ocean, but from the tone of her voice, he knew that the focus was on him.

Jem chose not to answer. Silent Brothers were known for their silence, after all.

But of course, Tessa knew better.

"Jem?" she said again, not bothering to correct herself this time. She was looking at him now, her brows knitted in concern. "Are you alright?"

I am fine, he replied, his voice steady and calm inside Tessa's head. It had a cold undertone to it; detached and generally disinterested. Tessa frowned.

"Jem-,"

Brother Zachariah, Jem corrected her.

"Now, you seem more like a Jem than a Brother Zachariah to me," Tessa answered before sighing, "It's alright. I won't ask if you won't answer."

The silence that followed was both welcomed and unbearable.

When he met Magnus again, ten years later in Paris, he knew that avoiding the subject would be useless. Unlike Tessa, Magnus was more persistent in a non-persistent way. He had that certain gaze that demanded answers no matter what. Giving in was sort of a given.

"Brother Zachariah," Magnus greeted him with a twinkle in his eyes, "What brings you here? Silent Brothers don't usually go out of the Silent City."

There was an injured Shadowhunter. I was summoned, Jem replied with his usual cold detachment.

"Hmm… and so close to home?" Magnus grinned cattily.

For a moment, Jem was confused. Paris was not his home. London was. Shanghai, too, if he were there. But then he noticed the buildings around him, with the familiar pavements and signs and something deep inside him hit him hard. The sense of familiarity overwhelmed him; it was both painful and relieving at the same time.

"William used to come here with Tessa, you know? On their honeymoon," Magnus said, his voice soft this time and laced with some pitying understanding.

He knew. Of course Jem knew. He had been there when Tessa and Will went to Paris for their second honeymoon. He remembered watching them from the shadows, committing the memory of Will's loud laughter and Tessa's warm smile into his heart.

"It's been more than a decade. Funny, I think I might miss him a little," Magnus said wistfully, "Throughout all the years I have lived- and there are a lot of them, my dear Brother Zachariah, I have never really understood the meaning of missing someone." Magnus cast Jem a sideway glance. "But seeing the bond that you two share, it made me realize that…missing someone can be…somewhat painful."

We have no bond, Jem corrected him, Not anymore.

Magnus was silent for a while and Jem contemplated on leaving the warlock, but a sad smiled suddenly graced Magnus's face.

"Ah, James Carstairs, that is where you are wrong."

The first time he met Alexander Lightwood, Jem had been struck by the familiarity in his looks.

The young shadowhunter was a like a splitting image of Will. They shared the same dark hair and blue eyes. And when Alec scowled, Jem honestly thought he was seeing Will.

But his looks were the only things he shared with Jem's former parabatai. Personality-wise, Alec was more level-headed than Will. He was less confident, too, and he looked uncomfortable in his own skin. But he had strength within him and he was among the smartest shadowhunters Jem had ever encountered.

In terms of personality, the young Jace Herondale was more similar to Will. Even though the former had taken up the Lightwood name since he was taken in as a ward by the family since he was young, no matter how Jem looked at him, Jace will always be a Herondale to him. He inherited the bitter humor and arrogant trait that most Herondale descendants possessed.

For Alec and Jace to be parabatais-each sharing similar traits to Will, was both fitting and somewhat bittersweet.

"You seem to be managing Jace really well," Isabelle Lightwood commented one day to Clarissa, affectionately known as Clary.

Clary looked at Jace who was currently training with Alec. Jace gave a kick. Alec dodged. Clary shook her head and fond smile graced her delicate features.

"No one manages Jace," she said.

No one manages Will.

For the first time in a while, Jem felt like crying.

When he was relieved of his Silent Brothers duties, Jem had a dream.

He was in London again. The night sky was clear above him. It was peaceful and silent.

That was when he heard a voice.

"Jem! Where are you? Did you see that? Killed it in one blow! Not bad, eh?"

Yes, not bad at all, Jem wanted to say. He tried to move but it was as if he was frozen there. He looked around him. The streets around him looked awfully familiar.

The voice spoke again.

"Jem!"

Will.

"James Carstairs! Where are you, you disloyal bastard?"

Will, I'm right here.

"Over here," Jem said, happy to have his voice back. His chest felt tight. He wanted to cry. But his voice remained steady despite himself. "Follow the witchlight."

Follow the witchlight, Will. You can do it.

"Jem, you look really pale," said Tessa worriedly.

Jem blinked and looked at Tessa, now his wife of twenty years. The cool autumn breeze greeted him gently.

He smiled. "I am fine," he replied, "Maybe it's the cold."

Tessa frowned but said no more. "I'll turn up the heater, then," she said after a while. She glanced back at him before she went to the kitchen, worry evident on her face.

Jem sighed. Now that he thought of it, he had been a little tired lately. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

"Jem?" he heard Tessa say.

"It's till rather cold," Jem said without bothering to open his eyes.

There was a long pause. He heard a hitch of breath before something warm covered his hand. He recognized the familiar warmth of Tessa's hand and he gripped her hand a little tighter.

"Don't worry," rep

lied Tessa. Her voice sounded really strange. It was somewhat strangled, like she was about to cry. "You'll be warm soon."

Jem was too tired to even reply. The last thing his mind registered was a cool touch on his cheek before he fell asleep.

"Tessa, darling, I think you turned up the heater a little too high. I'm sweating buckets- What's wrong with James?"

Tessa turned to Magnus, tears filling her eyes. She clutched the now lifeless hand of Jem and pressed it against her cheek.

"He was cold," she murmured, "But not anymore, I suppose."

Jem knew he was heading somewhere important. He did not know how he knew this. He simply acknowledged the tugging feeling in his heart that told him, yes, he was heading somewhere very important.

He stood on the raft that led him along a river. The place was silent yet it was strangely familiar; it was like he had been here before, briefly.

His eyes adjusted as he caught a dark shape standing by the river bank far in the distance. As he neared the bank, the shape began to take form.

The first thing Jem saw was the figure's bright blue eyes. Followed by the mass of curly hair. And finally, that carefree and devilish yet somehow gentle smile.

Jem held his breath.

Will grinned and held out his hand.

"Finally."

A/N: Heronstairs. Feels. Enough said.

I'm still pretty much healing from the emotional pain. Thanks Cassie. Just, thanks.

Reviews are lovely and appreciated.