This is very obviously AU where Clary loses her memory during an accident. I don't know the time frame, and Jace kills Valentine so sometime during City of Glass maybe...? Just a one-shot. Let me know what you think?
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This is a story about war and the people who survived it.
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The world burns itself to pieces in a deserted warehouse where Valentine lights a match and Jace nearly dies trying save Clary from the fire.
He tosses her out a second-story window to save her from the angry licks of the redred flames and throws a knife that lands in Valentine's chest, before the man can take one step towards the pair.
Jace has a broken arm and burns that cover his right shoulder and half of his neck.
Clary sleeps for eight long days that stretch into eight long nights and wakes without remembering her name.
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Haven't we bled enough?
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She has never seen anyone like him before—blonde and beautiful-with tousled golden hair and smooth tanned muscles. She wonders who he is, and why he is talking to her, of all people. Her with the shaking hands, and the tangled red hair, the amnesia she can't remember to forget.
Clarissa.
She looks to Isabelle, eyebrows raised in silent question. She doesn't know why Isabelle's face falls in anguish or why the other boy turns away.
"This-this is Jace Lightwood." Isabelle gestures to the golden boy. "He's our adopted brother."
She looks to Isabelle again, and she knows this question is more painful than the last. Isabelle finishes the words that she can't remember. "Clary, you knew Jace before your accident. You were good friends."
She-Clary-doesn't know how to argue with this, doesn't know if she can. She just knows that the boy is looking at her like she is the only thing in the world, like everything has fallen away but the two of them, like the world's burning down around them but they are the only two left-
"Nice to meet you." She says, and tries not to cry.
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"You liked to draw, but you always thought your mom was a better artist than you. You didn't have a lot of friends, you and me were together a lot. You liked to read anime and drink hot chocolate. Stand in the rain and dance."
Simon's voice is like a lullaby in the silence of the darkness. A melody in shadows of his bedroom, tangled in sheets and a big blue comforter. She's leaning against a fleece pillow and Simon's head is on her shoulder, his bangs tickling her cheek.
"How did I meet Isabelle?" She asks, voice loud and harsh next to Simon's gentle tones. She winces and hopes he doesn't see.
Simon is silent for one, two, three heartbeats. She counts them and times them with his breathing, the feel of his cool breath on her bare shoulder. "There was a club down the street we used to go to on Friday nights. The Pandemonium Club. Do you remember?"
If Clary could have one thing in the world, if a wishing star would shoot across the night, if she could find a dandelion and blow it across the wide blue sky-and she could wish for one thing, just one, she would wish that people would stop asking her to remember.
"No." She whispers, and pretends that doesn't hurt.
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Alec is dark and brooding, lank black hair falling across bright blue eyes. He's smart and not nearly as devious as his little sister, and he's one of the nicest people Clary can remember. He checks her out of the hospital, against the doctor's orders and his better judgment.
He hums under his breath as he drives her to her house, and he doesn't tell her to remember. The sun sets on the fourth day of the loss of memories, and he doesn't say anything at all.
She finally breaks the silence, because she doesn't like the way it stretches into the distance, the way the only noise is the gentle purr of the car, and the sound of the freeway beneath the tires. She can't even hear the city, and this is New York, why aren't the cars honking? Where is the noise of the train? This city is holding its breath.
Clary is too.
She clears her throat, forces herself to look at him. "What was I like?" She's not sure if she wants to know, but Alec seems like the type of man to tell her straight if that's what she wanted. She's not sure what she wants, but she looks at him from underneath her to-long-to-red bangs anyway.
"You were stubborn." Alec says without hesitation. "But you were kind, a little bit reckless. But brave."
"How was I brave?" Clary doesn't understand. She's a city girl with a taste for art and color, the way the sun shines in pretty yellow shades through the windows of the car; the glitter of the blue sky above their heads. She doesn't know how she could be brave in this life she used to live.
"I don't think I'm the one to tell you." He says after a moment, palepale hands tightening bright against the black of the steering wheel.
"Who is?"
Alec murmurs, under his breath, as if he hopes she can't hear: "I'm taking you to Jace." He says, and presses on the gas.
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Jace is a golden lion, caged inside the fury of his own head, pacing back and forth across the floor of her living room. She's painting the colors of the rug in her head, and it makes her oh-so-happy that she hasn't lost everything. She's still who she used to be, if only just a little.
"You are a Shadowhunter." He says, as if this explains the storm of confusion inside her head. "Like me." He adds, and she didn't expect it, but this makes it better.
"What is a Shadow hunter?" Clary asks, hands folded gently across her lap. She tucks them into the pockets of her to-large sweatshirt when she sees the bitten nails.
Jace pauses in his angry pace, turns to face her, eyes as yellow as melted gold, boring into her own green. "Half-angel, half-human."
Clary freezes, feels her eyes go wide and her breath stops. Surely he is crazy, but there is something in the intensity of his gaze that stops her from running running away.
"I don't believe you." Clary says but doesn't mean it, just wants to see what he will say to prove it. She wants to know her worth. She doesn't expect him to pull a shimmering blue knife from a sheath on his belt. She closes her eyes against the spray of blood but doesn't reach out to stop him.
Blood pours down his arm and drips across his wrist and down his fingers, sprinkling the pretty patterned rug with its gentle spray. Jace pulls another glittering silver weapon off his belt, but this is not sharpened like the brilliant edge of the last knife, instead he draws gentle patterns against his skin, wincing as he traces.
Clary wants to offer to draw for him, to take the glittering silver pencil and draw her own song onto his golden skin. He is to beautiful to be touched though, and so she keeps her hands and her words to herself.
When Jace pulls away his hands, his skin is blank and unmarred and only a thin white scar is in the place of the crimson wound that lay previously on the skin of his lower arm.
She expects a wince of pain, but she is quickly learning not to expect anything from this boy. And so she is not much surprised at his triumphant grin.
"Being a Shadowhunter is awesome." Jace says, pocketing his bloody weapons and stepping towards her. "So it's a little hard for me to understand how you can forget that. But how in the hell can you forget me?" He says, hands held wide in his own curiosity. She feels the boil of anger start in the pit of her stomach, travel upwards to engulf her heart, but she can see in the curious gaze of his face that he honestly wants to know.
So she tries her hardest to smile, feels pretty triumphant as she succeeds at a careless grin, though her cheeks ache with disuse. "You seem pretty unforgettable." She teases. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
Jace lets out a breathy laugh, beautiful in its surprise. "Clary…." He begins.
Clary doesn't like that serious tone of voice, and she's oh-so-tired of pretending, so she stands from the couch and sends him a nod of thanks. "Thank you for your help."
She tries not to run until she hears the door swing shut behind her.
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Its later that night. Clary's sitting in the greenhouse on the roof of the Institute. Alec has brought her to the old church, showed her the library and the infirmary and the armory.
Now, she's found the roof of this ancient place on her own wandering, and she isn't surprised when Jace finds her.
This looks like a place for memories. Perhaps they have some in this delicate garden.
"Can we start over?" He asks, and doesn't wait for a nod. "My name is Jace." He says, golden in the setting sun, hand held out in peace. "I don't want to pressure you at all. I just want you to know me again Clary, and I want you to know, I loved you, and if you'll let me, I'll love you forever."
Clary laughs, music like wind chimes, and takes his hand.
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Thank you very much for reading!
Please don't favorite without reviewing! I love suggestions, advice, anything! Thanks.