8/09/206 - so it turns out someone thought it was a good idea to plagiarise my work? Eugh, anyway so this was posted on as well and someone thought it would be a good idea to copy it and post it as their own. I'm working on taking it down but if you come across it it's been called Fevered Dreams (not a bad title actually but whatever) by a user called Books-are-my-life99. If you come across it please know that this work is mine and that it was stolen from me.
Clary smiled sadly down at Jace pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. She felt his forehead gently before settling the wet rag back on to his head. Jace had been running a temperature of 103 for the past three days and no medicinal concoction that Maryse managed to whip up was making him feel any better.
He frowned miserably back up at her, "Where are you-" he turned his head suddenly to cough violently into his pillow. "-you going?" He finished, his eyes traveling down her slim body taking in her black gear and her sword peeking out of its sheath.
"I'm getting ready to leave with Alec and Isabelle." She shrugged apologetically. Normally it was the four of them who went out together to kill demons but with Jace in bed, sick, it would just be the three of them.
"I want to come," Jace growled through gritted teeth. There had been a long argument about this the night before with a lot of hoarse yelling from Jace, angry glaring from Alec, hysterical screaming from Isabelle, murmured pleas from Clary and cool logic from Maryse, until it was finally decided that Jace would not be joining them.
"You can barely sit up," Clary pointed out. "Please just stay here and get better, babe." She touched his face tenderly and he sighed leaning into her touch.
He deliberated for a moment before recognising defeat, "Alright, go. But," He grabbed her wrist to prevent her from leaving. "Be careful. Do not worry about me." He looked at her seriously before the urge to sneeze came over him and he had to turn away.
She smiled at his protectiveness and leaned down to kiss his forehead which was alarmingly hot under her lips. "Ok," she whispered softly against his skin, "but don't you worry about me either. I'll be fine." With a final smile, she left the room to join Isabelle and Alec, shutting the door softly behind her. Jace grimaced and buried his face deep into the pillows, feeling the worst he's felt in years. His whole body ached, his throat and nose burned and despite his rising temperature he was freezing.
After half an hour of lying in bed, the pains in his stomach grew to be too much and Jace knew he would have to get up and get something to eat. He had skipped out on breakfast this morning and was now regretting it. He groaned into his pillow and rolled off the bed and onto his feet. He tugged the blanket off his bed and wrapped it around himself, snagging a tissue out of the box as he left the room. Jace shuffled into the kitchen, rummaging around the cupboards and opening the fridge several times trying to work out what to eat. He was peering into the freezer for the third time when a voice spoke from behind him, startling him out of his analysis of the contents.
"Should you be up?" He whipped his head around, immediately regretted it and clapped a hand to his forehead wincing in pain. "Sorry," Jocelyn murmured, looking guilty, "I didn't mean to startle you, I was just looking for Clary," she continued, avoiding Jace's gaze by glancing around the kitchen.
"Ah, she's not here," Jace muttered, rubbing his forehead absently. "She's gone hunting with Alec and Isabelle, I wanted to go but…" he trailed off.
"Oh." They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Jocelyn and Jace had never totally gotten along and without Luke or Clary there to smooth things over, Jace didn't know how well this conversation was going to end.
"Should you be up? Clary mentioned you were sick." She asked again, looking directly at him. Green eyes met gold. He stared back into her eyes, Clary's eyes, he realized with a jolt. Her eyes were exactly the same shade as Clary's, the eyes that he loved so much and he was surprised to see a flash of concern deep in them. A fit of brutal coughing suddenly ripped through his body, leaving him gasping for breath and giving Jocelyn her answer. Nonetheless Jace answered anyway.
"Yeah I have a cold and a sore throat and a temperature of-"
"103," Jocelyn cut in looking thoughtful. "I remember those symptoms," she frowned. "There was a fever that the Nephilim used to get. It was very rare. That's probably why Maryse wouldn't know the antidote." Jocelyn was already moving before she had finished speaking. She opened a cupboard and put a pot of water on to boil. She looked towards Jace fleetingly and seemed surprised to see him standing there stunned. "Go back to bed," she said kindly, pulling vegetables from the fridge. "I'll bring it to you."
"You really don't have to-" Jace started but again Jocelyn cut across him.
"Nonsense," she said briskly. "It's the only way, you'll get better. Besides," Jace paused by the door and stared back at her. She was looking blankly down at her now still hands on the chopping board, "I want to."
It was another half an hour of strange smells wafting from the kitchen and nasty coughing that seized Jace's body mercilessly and left his lungs begging for air before it was ready. Jocelyn hustled in and settled a tray on his lap. On it was a glass quarter-filled with brown liquid, a full glass of water and a steaming bowl of soup. Jace picked up the glass of brown liquid and peered at it, swishing it around a bit. It wasn't thick like most but had the unpleasant smell most associated with medicine.
"Drink that quickly," Jocelyn advised while she perched on the edge of his bed. "It doesn't have the best taste, but the effects are almost instant." Jocelyn smoothed the sheets and watched on as Jace gulped down the liquid. He wrinkled his nose at the taste but it was relief on his throat which felt instantly better.
"So how did you know about the antidote?" Jace asked interestedly, sliding the bowl of soup closer and picking up the spoon. "You said it was rare?"
"Yes it is, very few Nephilim get it but it can be lethal if not treated properly. I got it once as a child and then later on just… just before I got pregnant." Jace noticed her hesitation but didn't acknowledge it and Jocelyn continued to talk. "My mother showed me the recipe when I was older. It came in handy. When Clary was six she got it, it was lucky I remembered it." Jace choked on his mouthful of soup and Jocelyn looked up, alarmed.
"Clary had it?"
"Yeah. Of course she didn't realise that it was a Nephilim infection, she thought it was an ordinary fever but fortunately Luke and I knew better." By now Jace was finished his soup and he set the spoon down feeling his eyelids droop lower and lower. He felt the weight of the tray leave the bed which lifted slightly as Jocelyn stood.
"Jocelyn, you don't have to stay. I'm fine." He tried to say but he wasn't sure if he said anything coherent or just mumbled nonsense. He felt nimble fingers brush his hair out of his eyes and feel his forehead gently.
"Shhhh, just go to sleep. I'll stay." He barely heard her but the rhythm of her voice lulled him into a deep sleep.
Jace woke to the sound of low voices a few feet from his bed.
"Alright, I'm going to go. I have to meet Luke." The first person said but having just woken up, Jace's mind wasn't working fast enough to work out who it was.
"Ok. But thanks mum. I really appreciate this." The second person said. But Jace would recognise her voice anywhere. "I'll see you at home later," Clary continued. There was no response but Jace could hear soft footfalls moving across the room. The bed shifted slightly under Clary's weight as she sat on the edge of the bed. Jace forced his eyes open to look at her blearily. He drank in her appearance, red curls escaping a messy plait, green eyes that sparkled and black clothes covered in ichor. He opened his arms and she slid down to curl up in his arms kicking off her boots. She smelt like blood, sweat and ichor, but Jace thought it was the most wonderful thing he'd ever smelt before, now that his nose wasn't burning.
"How did you go?" Jace murmured into her hair.
"Yeah, good. Killed half a dozen Eidolon demons." Clary mumbled back sleepily, worn out from demon hunting. Jace hands that had been running up and down her arms, found a deep tear into her jacket, and felt the wound underneath it that was still healing.
"Clary? What's this?" Jace said seriously, pulling back to look at her. She sighed and rolled her eyes, "It's nothing, don't worry I'm fine."
"Clary you said-" he began but a laugh from the doorway stopped him. Isabelle was leaning against the doorway, apparently having stopped by to see how he was doing.
"Nothing?" she sounded amused. Jace opened his mouth to speak again but Isabelle continued. "A demon was sneaking up behind me and I didn't see it," Isabelle paused. "But Clary did, the demon scratched her while she killed. She saved my life." Isabelle grinned at Jace's shocked expression and left the doorway. She didn't need to say thank you, they all understood, it's just what shadowhunters did for each other. Clary buried her face into his chest, giggling at his surprised expression. He didn't say anything just pressed a kiss to the top of her head, a feeling of pride spreading in his chest.