I'm Falling to Pieces
Jace's only friend is someone he's never met— a girl he's talked to in his head for as long as he can remember. His life runs slowly on like normal despite the girl living in his mind until the one family everyone in his small, quiet town of St. Arren's has feared from before Jace was born returns. When St. Arren's bursts awake with danger, Jace finds himself fighting for answers. What has happened to St. Arren's? Who really is the girl in his head? She wasn't just in his head; she was just his. He wasn't just her secret; he was just hers. AU.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. :(
Chapter One: The Girl in His Head
You don't have to be afraid
You don't even have to be brave
Living in a gilded cage
The risk is that you'll go insane
-Flume feat. Moon Holiday, "Insane"
The sky was grey, clouds promising rain later in the afternoon. Tall trees with branches half-full of crimson and sunset-orange leaves lost some to the chilly gust of wind as it swept through the woods, rustling the golden hair of a boy with his back up against a tree trunk.
Lonely as he may have appeared, Jace Lightwood was anything but. A small smile graced his features as a familiar girl's voice bounced questioningly around the confines of his mind.
Tell me about your family again, pressed the girl eagerly.
Okay, Jace agreed. Who first?
Your parents.
My parents' names are Maryse and Robert Lightwood. They aren't my real parents because my real ones were killed right after I was born. Maryse and Robert are nice enough, a little distant, and overall, I'm thankful that they took me in. Next is my brother, Alec. Alec is difficult to describe, but he's like his parents—slightly distant, but he puts up with me really well. He used to have a sister named Isabelle, except she was brutally murdered by an unknown killer.
That's sad. About Isabelle, I mean.
Jace sighed along with the wind as it whipped among the trees once again. Clary, you've heard this story more times than I can count. Besides, I never knew her.
I don't care, it's still sad, Clary responded fiercely. I wish I knew your family. You're lucky, Jace.
Not really.
My family is a load of asshats. I'm not kidding.
"Jace!"
Jace's head jerked around as he was abruptly yanked out of his mind and back into reality. He was used to it though—he talked to Clary for the majority of his time. Most people considered him an outcast and "in his own world" as a result.
Alec skidded to a halt above Jace, leaning against the tree, gasping. "Why'd—you—skive—off—again—"
Jace blinked up at Alec. The other boy had recovered from his sprint into the woods, and was glowering down at Jace. "What do you think?"
Alec glowered harder. "It's not a joke, all right? Your grades are dropping, the teachers dislike you—"
"Look," Jace interrupted, pushing himself to his feet, "I really don't care about school."
"But—why—"
He shrugged. "I don't like it. Everyone thinks of me as odd because I'm not jumping to socialize with them."
"Maybe if you just stopped speaking to that girl—"
"Don't talk about her like that!" Jace found himself snapping at Alec. "Her name is Clary."
Alec looked very exasperated and tired. "She—Clary—whatever—isn't real."
Jace felt his jaw tense. "You don't know anything, Alec."
"She's not real," Alec repeated slowly, each word driving into Jace like spikes. "This girl is a figment of your imagination."
Jace stared at the other boy. Alec was scowling heavily, his face creasing with anger and irritation. Why doesn't he get it? "You. Don't. Know. Anything."
"I know that you need to stop living inside your mind," Alec retorted. "This imaginary friend situation is getting ridiculous. You can't go on doing this."
Jace was blindly angry; more furious than he remembered. He could almost feel the metaphorical steam coming out in buckets from his ears. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Shut up."
Alec's dark blue eyes flashed a warning at Jace. "I'm doing this for your own good, Jace."
"Nothing needs to be done 'for my own good!'" Jace found himself shouting. "I can take care of myself. I don't need you to hover over me at every minute. God."
"I was just trying to—"
"You weren't trying to anything. Leave me alone." Jace crossed his arms, glaring at his brother until the other boy's shoulders sagged in defeat and he trudged back the way he came from.
You really need to get a handle on your temper, Clary told him sternly. A faint smile spread across Jace's mouth as he imagined a random girl shaking her finger at him.
Like you're any better? Jace thought at her. A few seconds passed before Clary replied, and Jace waited, shivering slightly as another gust of wind wrenched more fiery leaves from their perches on the trees' branches.
Well, not really, Clary conceded. Except Alec genuinely wants to help you. That's all he was trying to do.
He hates you!
So do lots of people. Clary sounded vaguely amused. So you'll be nicer to Alec from now on?
Fine, Jace grumbled. I highly dislike being nice to people.
You're nice to me, idiot.
He found himself grinning. There was some quality about Clary that always made him feel better. She seemed to be the only person, imaginary or not, that could coax an authentic smile and laugh out of him. Everywhere else, he went around pretending to be a person he wasn't, but she constantly brought out the best in him.
You're a special case.
How sweet. I'm truly touched. Undertones of sarcasm riddled Clary's voice. All of a sudden, she went quiet. A hazy image floated into the edges of Jace's mind: a boy with white hair, his mouth open with a yell. . . I. . . I have to go. Vague panic sounded through Clary's voice. Jace barely had time to say goodbye before she was pulled out of his mind and he out of hers.
"CLARISSA!'
The name boomed through the manor, ricocheting off the ornate foyer and the spiral staircase. It hit the vaulted ceilings, nearly shattering the dirty glass panes in the windows. In the third floor and the bedroom farthest to the left, a girl carefully pulled herself away from a very dusty window seat, her fingers skimming over the thick glass once last time before she straightened her long dress with colors faded from time before she rose slowly to her feet and began to descend the staircase until she was at the foot of it.
"Yes, Father?"
"Why didn't you come when I called you?" snapped her father.
The girl shifted uncomfortably inside, although she kept her outwards appearance rigid and coolly calm— just like she'd been taught. "I was straightening my dress, Father."
He stared at her, a small sneer distorting his mouth. "Is that all?"
The girl bowed her head in submission, eyes staring at her shoeless feet. "Yes, Father. What else could I have been possibly doing?" Innocence crept into her tone.
"Don't play games with me, Clarissa," he hissed poisonously. "My sources have told me where you were seen yesterday."
The girl swallowed. Was he going to beat her? Curse her? Who had told him? Or who had seen her?
"Father!" Another girl flew swiftly down the staircase, her ancient dress trailing behind in her wake. "Clarissa did nothing wrong, she only–"
The man surveyed the second girl coldly. "What have I told you about running, Lilith?"
Lilith halted gracefully and stared up at her father with a look of resentment. "I don't know."
"You told us to not run anywhere," Clarissa piped in a monotone.
"And both of you will do well to remember that." The man's eyes narrowed superciliously at the two girls. "As I was saying before, Clarissa's punishment shall be—"
"But she did nothing wrong!" Lilith burst out. "She was with me in the parlor, I can vouch for her—"
"It is your word against your brother's," he said silkily. "Jonathan has always been truthful and honest to me in the past. Whereas you, Lilith—"
"Father, you don't know if Jonathan is even telling you the truth!"
The man's eyes narrowed once more in a menacing fashion and Lilith shrunk back, although the defiant glare didn't leave her face. "Clarissa, your punishment is confinement for five days. If you are caught anywhere near the weapons room again, you shall be beaten. Understood?"
"Perfectly," muttered Clarissa as her father swept down the corridor in the direction of the sitting room. When she was certain he was gone, she turned to Lilith. "Why'd you try to cover for me?"
Lilith blinked at Clarissa. "You're my sister."
"This is a house of traitors, liars, and utter scum and rot," Clarissa snapped obstinately. "Family has been demoted to mean nothing at all."
"Haven't you noticed that not all of us live by that?" Lilith shot back instantaneously. "Not everyone goes by their morals."
Clarissa was silent for a moment, twisting a loose piece of her faded dress in her hand. "I know."
"Hey," Lilith replied bracingly, "at least Father didn't beat you. Or force you to fight Jonathan."
Clarissa's eyes burned bright and furious. "I could have won against Jonathan! I could have beaten him."
"Clarissa—"
"I hate it when people call me that," Clarissa said flatly.
Lilith examined her sister, tilting her head to the side the smallest bit. "Well, I hate it when people call me 'Lilith.'"
Out of conversational topics, the two girls fell silent until footsteps sounded down the bend of the corridor. Lilith spared a panicky glance down the bend.
"It's Jonathan," she hissed. "Get out of here, Clarissa."
Clarissa's head whipped left and then right before she darted up the staircase, well past the second landing before Jonathan strode out into the hallway, smoothing his hair back with one hand. He stopped in his tracks once he noticed Lilith standing in the center of the corridor.
"Hello, sister."
"Why'd you tell Father about Clarissa, Jonathan?" snapped Lilith, completely foregoing a greeting as she glowered at her brother.
He looked unaffected, arching an eyebrow in Lilith's direction. "Tell Father what, Lily?"
"About Clarissa, you ba—"
Jonathan smirked at the blatantly angry girl quivering with rage before him. "Don't let Father hear you calling me that."
"I'll call you whatever the hell I like," snarled Lilith. "You almost got Clarissa beat!" Her voice rose in pitch and volume with every word.
"Lily, I never told Father anything about Clarissa," Jonathan answered, his voice soothing.
Lilith stared at Jonathan for a second before she told him, "You're a lying bastard."
"Look, Lily, I'm sorry—"
"Apologize to Clarissa, not me!" Lilith glared one last time at Jonathan before she began to ascend the spiral staircase. Halfway up the first landing, she stopped and shouted back down the stairs, "And stop calling me that!"
It was the third day of Clarissa's confinement. She was only allowed out of her ornate, fragile room for the bathroom and meals, neither of which provided much gratification. If she was lucky, she could sneak in a word with Lilith while she stood in the bathroom to brush her teeth. Meals meant that her father sat at the head of a long mahogany table draped with an elaborate runner that hung in floppy triangle silk shapes off the edges of the table while everyone either stared at each other or avoided conversation and eye contact all together.
Clarissa tried to evade Jonathan all together. He was the one that ratted me out to Father—why should I spare him a word in the first place? It helped that Lilith was equally vexed towards their snake-like brother. However, the rest of the manor clearly didn't share their feelings. Her mother and father praised and glorified the already spoilt Jonathan, which was enough to speak for itself.
She curled up in the same window seat she had been brooding in before Father ordered her to confinement in her room, the same seat from where she had thought of the mad idea to steal away into the weapons room. The gloomy, grey view out the window agreed perfectly with her mood. The only spouts of color were the vibrant crimson-decked trees lining the front walkway. She wished she were outdoors, even if the weather was rainy and dull. Anything would've been better than being put in her room like it was an iron-barred cage.
Jace? Clarissa called out in her mind. Jace was a friend of hers—the only friend she'd really ever had—and someone she had never dared told her father about. He was her secret and she was his secret.
Clary? She couldn't help the wide smile that bloomed upon her face. Jace was the only person who called her "Clary." It was a nickname he created for her when she told him she hated her real name when they were six.
Where are you right now?
School. Nothing terribly exciting.
Can you tell me about it? For some inexplicable reason, Clary enjoyed hearing Jace regale her with stories from his life. They felt so familiar and comforting and utterly ordinary that they nearly made her feel like she was normal too.
All right. I just went through the school halls to eavesdrop on a multitude of fascinating rumors about me. Apparently half of the girls consider me a 'hot bad boy.' Clary could almost hear his smirk of arrogance. Now I'm considering ditching again.
Why?
Would you want to be stuck in a hellhole?
Clarissa could sympathize with that far too easily. Father doled out confinement as punishment. I'm trapped in my room for five days. Today is the third, and I'm going mad.
If it makes you feel better, I'm trapped at school for five days a week, every week unless I skip.
Is it easy? Skiving off class like that?
Clarissa could hear his sarcastic, bitter laugh. Much too easy.
Good. I'm getting out of here, Jace. Want to go on an adventure?
Jace was plotting to ditch Tuesday by hiding so deep into the woods that even Alec wouldn't be able to find him until Clary begged for him to attend school because she was bored out of her mind. With a heaving sigh, he agreed. As he strode through the halls, whispers bounced off the walls and into him like yesterday, but this time, the peanut gallery wasn't gossiping about his outcastliness.
"They're back."
"Who?"
"Them. Everyone around here knows who they are."
Who's "them"? Jace wondered soundlessly, noting the note of mingled reverence and fear the pair in front of him in maths class spoke of. "They" were splattered in hushed tones all over the school: hissed in fear, cursed in bewilderment, whispered about in astonishment. Everyone knew who "they" were. Except Jace, it seemed.
"I even saw their lights on last night."
"You mean they've returned to that decapitated, ancestral house of theirs?"
"They're back, all right."
Jace couldn't resist turning around during lunch as the people sitting behind him murmured of lights in windows and vague shapes of human figures silhouetted in said windows. He waited impatiently until the dark-haired girl and the brunette boy noticed he was facing them. Normally, they would've turned their noses skywards in disdain. Normally no one would even sit that close to him. But today, and from Tuesday on, it seemed, wasn't going to ever revert back to normal. "Who's back?"
"How do you not—" the boy stopped himself in his tracks, frowning. "Oh, that's right. Aren't you Jace Lightwood?"
Jace fought the urge to snarl something particularly nasty at the boy and his friend. He bit out the smallest piece of a sarcastic remark. "Yeah, I'm Jace Lightwood." The dark-haired girl blushed, a pink hue spreading across her cheeks and Jace winked at her before he asked them one last time, "Who's back?"
The boy and girl exchanged a quick glance. "You live right next to them," the girl muttered slowly, her cheeks still bright pink. "Shouldn't you know?"
Jace put on his most charming smile. "Why don't you tell me, then?"
"The Morgensterns. The Morgensterns are back."
Those four little words—the Morgensterns are back—swept through St. Arren's like a virus. At every corner, every alley, every pub, anywhere and everywhere, Jace found the underlying, lilting hiss of, The Morgensterns are back. They're back. He didn't know who the enigmatic Morgensterns were. He didn't know what they symbolized. But it was always there now, like the cold wind.
The Morgensterns are back.
NEW FIC TIME!
I borrowed the original concept of having two people connected by their minds from the book Unspoken by Sarah Rees Brennan, which is by the way, SUCH A GOOD BOOK OH MY GOD. Kami and Jared (Kared? Jami?) are my new OTP. (PS: the sequel is called Untold.)
Sorry that this chapter was sort of short. I tried to put more into it, but it was beginning to sound like a run-on chapter. . . So, basically, Chapter 2 will be longer. That's for certain.
Anyways, tell me what you think! Likes? Dislikes? Does the whole thing just need to be reedited?