This is my very first fanfiction ever, so please no hating. I do want constructive criticism though. Please review!
Disclaimer: No matter how many dandelions I blow, The Mortal Instruments will always be the creation of the wonderful Cassandra Clare.
Clary had always liked her hair.
She had always known she wasn't beautiful, regardless of what Jace said. But her hair had always been a nice touch to her rather boring face. Red was such a strong, fiery color. Jace would often tease her, saying it matched her temper. It also wasn't very common. It stood out and helped make up for her height. So of course, she had never considered changing its color or volume. Curly strands of fire were what she wore best. But a bit of alcohol could loosen anyone's opinion.
It began freezing cold day in December. Alec's birthday had passed a few weeks ago, but he had been too busy to celebrate. Now his boyfriend had decided he wanted to hold a party for the occasion.
"Not a party filled with balloons and streamers," he informed Clary when he had told her about his idea. They were in a booth at Taki's after Magnus had called her with an emergency and told her to meet him at the diner. "I feel like Alexander should get a chance to be a teenager and not a Shadowhunter for once. Go out to a club. Get drunk. Get a tattoo." Clary rolled her eyes at him and took a sip of her drink.
"I doubt Alec will be up for any of that. But theoretically speaking, if he did agree, I don't see why I have to come. Clubs aren't my thing. I'm sure Alec and you could have tons of fun without me."
"I'm quite sure Alec and I could have fun without you," he said suggestively, raising an eyebrow at Clary. She glared at him from her place behind her drink. Magnus grinned at her. "But this is the first time Alec and I will celebrate his birthday together. Jace and Izzy can come too if it's any consolation. Though I don't see why you need it. Are Alec and I not enough for you?" He asked, misery coating his words. She snorted at him.
"Magnus, you know I love you. But I don't love watching you and Alec getting in on in a club. Which is a definite if alcohol and your tight pants are involved." Magnus looked at her slyly.
"I won't be the only one wearing tight clothes Clary, I'll tell you that much. I think Jace deserves it, after all. You only wear bulky sweaters and sweatpants during winter. That poor boy must be losing his damn mind." Clary glared at him.
"Fine. I'll come. But don't expect to me to wear glitter or fishnet stockings or anything."
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"How do I always get dragged into these things?", Clary asked herself. She was in Magnus's apartment, sitting in front of a vanity mirror. To her astonishment, Alec had agreed to Magnus's idea, most likely for Magnus's sake. Tonight was the night Magnus had decided to hold Alec's celebration, so he demanded that she come visit him beforehand so she wouldn't look like "A washed-up old beach whale", or so Magnus had said. Burrowed deep in his closet was an impressive amount of women's clothing, but Clary didn't ask about it. Instead, she stood quietly to the side as Magnus threw millions of tops, pants, skirts, and other things Clary didn't care to know about out of his closet. Once in awhile, Magnus would mutter foul language under his breath about how out of season turtlenecks were, or how his peter pan collars would never see the light of day again. After an eternity, he pulled out an outfit and shoved Clary into the bathroom with a handful of leather and spikes. She stepped out wearing a tight gray tank with a sleeveless vest covered in zippers. She filled out a pair of ripped black jeans quite well, and the black combat boots with heels helped her look much taller and mature. Magnus was now applying a thin layer of eyeshadow and eyeliner to her face. Her hair was down in its natural curls, and though she appreciated all he had done for her, she was sick of all the beauty treatments. "Magnus, are you done yet?", She asked impatiently. The cool tip of the liquid eyeliner took one more diving sweep down her eyelid before he popped the cap back on.
"Finished!" He said triumphantly. He wore tight maroon pants that were coated in glitter. They threw light everywhere he walked. A bright orange tank that glimmered like a fish in sunlight complimented the peach-colored eyeliner he wore. Sparkly eyeshadow and a golden earring completed his look. All in all, they looked ready for a night out in town. First, though, they had to stop at the Institute to pick up Alec, Jace, and Izzy. After blowing kisses to Chairman Meow, Magnus and Clary headed out the door for a night to remember.
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"Clary, you look great!" Izzy sized me up with a grin. She wore a skin-tight black dress with a dangerously low back and knee-high black boots. Her hair was up in a high ponytail. "Though I'm sure if you had come to me we could have fixed up these split ends…" She reached toward Clary's curls and stroked a particularly uneven lock of hair.
"Not a chance Iz," Malec said. "We all know I'm Clary's go-to stylist. Only the best for her, after all." He grinned at Izzy's eye roll.
"Alec will be down any minute. But I haven't checked in on Jace in a while, so only the angels know what he's up to." She grumbled, ignoring his statement. At that moment, Alec came crashing down the stairs in a black leather jacket and tattered old black jeans. He smiled at Clary and leaned in for a kiss with his boyfriend.
"Hey. Isn't Jace down yet?" He glanced around the room. "He's been in his room almost all day."
Clary frowned. While Jace loved his bedroom, he wouldn't stay in it all day unless Clary was there. And he must be bored too. Wouldn't he get a hankering for some training, or at least a snack after a while?
"I'll go check on him. See what's keeping him so long. He's probably just sleeping." Clary told the group. She started towards Jace's room.
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"Jace?" She knocked on the door, then called again. Silence beat down on her. The door slid open as she knocked harder. Taking a cautious step forward, she glanced around the room. All seemed well. Nothing was out of place.
So then where was Jace?
A hacking sound from the bathroom shook her out of her trance. It was an awful sound, but she didn't hesitate to run inside the open door. She looked up and down, expecting to see a demon or at the least Church hacking up something. But she never expected to see Jace Lightwood leaning over the toilet bowl, completely out of energy and whiter than a ghost. That's what she saw, though, and it was quite unexpected. But now wasn't a time to tease him about it or gawk at the sight. Instead, she slammed open a cabinet next to the sink and grabbed a towel. After drenching it in cold water, she knelt down next to Jace and dabbed his forehead. As he continued to empty his stomach, she rubbed his back softly and stroked his hair back. When he seemed finished, she continued to wipe the sweat off his forehead and handed him a glass with water she had swiped from the sink. He drank a small sip, then acknowledged her for the first time.
"Hey." He croaked out. He leaned against the cool bathroom tiles and buried his face in his knees.
Oh no, she thought. He must be really sick if can't even greet me with a sarcastic line.
After a little persuasion, she managed to get him to stand up. He leaned against her as she led him to the bed. She pulled back the covers for him and helped him strip to his boxers. He slowly crawled into bed, and she kissed his forehead softly.
"Jace, what happened to you?" She asked soothingly. She knelt by the bed and continued to stroke back his sweaty golden strands. He groaned and opened his eyes slowly, blinking as he tried to make Clary come into focus.
"I always knew Izzy's food would kill me someday." He muttered. "I think I ate something of hers that even Church would turn down." Clary had to hold in a chuckle. Figures. But what should she do? She wanted to stay with Jace and help him get better, but what about Magnus? He would be crushed if she didn't attend the celebration; besides, if Jace found out she was staying home to help him, his stupid ego would stop her. Everyone who knew Jace knew he was too prideful to accept help, especially if the issue was a common case of food poisoning. In the end though, it wasn't really a question what she would do.
"I'm going to stay home tonight and help you." She informed him, pulling off her boots. His eyes popped open.
"No, you don't." He struggled to pull himself up against the headboard. Clary rushed over to his side and pushed him back down.
"I'll be fine. Besides, doesn't Alec have that party tonight?" He tried to reason with her, prove his point, even tried to kiss her neck for a little extra persuasion, which she avoided and forced him to lay back down. Finally, she conceded, but of course with some conditions.
"Don't you dare try to go train or fight any demons. You're too sick. I'm going to leave some meds by the table that you should take with a little water. Just try to sleep for a little bit. I'll be back. And don't bother with iratzes. They only heal physical wounds." He smirked at her instructions.
"Clary Fray, if I didn't know any better I'd say you're worried about me. You know, you still owe me a sponge bath, which I'm in the mood for right about now. You might want to take a step back- the sight of me forgoing a shirt has caused some serious problems with fair damsels who have never seen anything ripped beside a pair of jeans. The shock has proved to be detrimental, even fatal." Her initial reaction was to smack him, but settled for a glare considering his condition. She leaned in and kissed him softly. He pulled away and said against her lips, "I'm sick. You shouldn't be kissing me."
"I don't care." After kissing him one last time, she finally pulled away and tugged her boots back on. She shut the lights off but caught sight of him dozing peacefully.
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"Magnus, this isn't a club; this is hell!" Clary yelled to Magnus over the hardcore rock music. And she wasn't wrong; people were running all over the place, dancing, laughing, crying, screaming, and occasionally twerking. It was some place right in the center of Brooklyn called The Black Lagoon, which wasn't a very promising name. It was pretty dark, but the pastel lights from overhead helped Clary see the chaos around her. Drinks lined the back of the bar, and everyone else around her was probably a few shots in already.
"Darling, compared to the things I've seen, this is a picnic in a park!" Magnus called back. He was already dragging Alec over the bar, waving over the bartender. Clary and Izzy followed, stepping around the dancers. Their drinks were slammed down on the counter quickly, some of the cherry-red liquid splashing over the edge. Everyone quickly grabbed one, then did a quick cheer before downing the glass. Clary eyed the drink warily. It had a bitter taste, with a hint of lime and some type of berry in it. She gulped down some more; it wasn't bad.
She did a double take-everyone was gone. Magnus and Alec are probably off in some closet, getting it on. As for Izzy, she scanned the room quickly, playing hard to get and getting wasted somewhere. She and Simon were in a relationship, but one of Izzy's favorite games was to see how many men she could seduce in a night. So far, her high score was 23, and no one had topped it yet. She never engaged in sexual activities with the men; simply flirted until they decided they wanted to take it farther. That's when she would a) hand them another drink to make them forget, b) cut and run with the hope they would forget her face, or, as a last resort, c) bash them over the head. All of these had worked at one point or another, but the primary was the easiest.
Clary tipped the glass back again, but only a single drop of bitter ruby liquid hit her tongue. She waved the bartender over; all of this was all on Magnus's tab. He swiped her glass and gave it back to her filled to the brim. She thanked him and took a sip. Watching the dancing and all the loud sounds (and the vodka) made her feel little dizzy. She spent the next hour or so chatting to the other customers and watching the dancing. At one point, she decided to join in with the dancers but abandoned the idea after a few minutes of the ogling stares from the men on the dance floor. She just kept drinking from her glass, letting everything get fuzzier and fuzzier and blurring all the people together into a big mess of colors…
"Clary, wake up call!" Someone yelled into her ear. She jerked up, throwing her glass onto the floor and shattering it into a thousand small pieces in the process. The bartender yelled something at her, but she was already being tugged out the doors of The Black Lagoon. She stumbled in her heels but clung to the arm of the man. She looked up at her captor, or prince in shining armor, depending on how you looked at it. One glance at the purple tufts of hair that looked like someone's hands had been run through it and she knew who it was.
"But my prince in shining armor can't be gay!" She giggled. "That's not how it works!"
"By the Angel, how many glasses did you have?" Magnus asked, dragging her down the street.
"Only eight." She said, holding up three fingers. Magnus whistled.
"Well, get ready to feel like hell has reigned over your mind in the morning. But now, we're going to give you a makeover."
"Yay! Makeover!" Clary laughed. The drinks were really getting to her. Magnus shoved her into a small shop on the corner of the street. The sign on the door looked blurry to Clary, but she managed to see the words "Cuts" in neon yellow lights. She giggled-yellow was a happy color.
As soon as she entered, she felt better. The air was warm and the bright colors from the signs made her smile. A lady with a low-cut skirt and tight tank came up to them. She had streaks of orange and green in her pixie cut. Magnus said something to the lady, but Clary heard their words as if she was underwater. Suddenly she felt the lady's hand on her arm, pulling her towards a chair in the back of the shop. Magnus followed on their heels.
Clary was confused. Who was the lady? Where was she? Why did everything look so funny and blurry? She suddenly heard her friend's voice.
"Clary? What color do you want?" Asked her friend with the pretty hair.
"What do you mean?" Asked Clary sluggishly.
"For your hair sweetheart." Said the lady. Colorful hair? Like the guy with pretty hair and the lady's? That sounds like fun!
"Hmm… Yellow! 'Cause yellow's a happy color!" Said Clary with a snort. "I know something else that's yellow!" But no one seemed to hear her. She felt the lady run something through her hair, then felt a cool substance against her scalp. But she was oblivious to anything else in the room. The last thing she remembered was her purple-haired friend pulling her into a yellow cab. Yellow, just like my hair! Thought Clary with a grin. Then she fell asleep against her friend's shoulder.
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A jumble of swears woke Clary in the morning. Her first coherent thought was "I smell bacon."
Her second thought was "Oh crap. My head hurts like hell."
She moaned, then stood up. She was wearing a baggy t-shirt that stopped at her knees and her socks. The smell of bacon lured her to the kitchen. There, she spotted Magnus, feeding Chairman Meow a piece of bacon. Sticking her finger in the pan, she pulled out a piece of the sizzling meat before Magnus could stop her. He glared but said nothing. Odd. Usually, Magnus would shoo her out of the kitchen if she touched his food before it was ready.
"Morning sunshine." Said Magnus. He tossed a container of Advil towards her. "I figured you might need these." He handed a glass of water and she popped a couple of the pills in her mouth.
"Thanks." She muttered. "Magnus, what happened last night? I basically lost the ability to think after my fourth glass." Magnus scratched his head.
"Alec took Izzy home after she got too drunk to even stand. But we hung around a little longer until we decided to…" His words faded. Clary paled.
"Magnus, we didn't hook up, did we?" Clary asked frantically. Magnus choked on his water.
"By the Angel, no! Nothing like that. I thought that you might be bored of being a redhead for so long, so I took you to this little place called Color n' Cuts, and then you got a touch-up." Magnus said quickly. "Nothing that bad." Clary frowned. A touch-up? With Magnus, that could mean anything. She headed into the bathroom, Magnus on her heels. "See, I asked you what you wanted, and you said yellow was a happy color, so…" He was cut off by the sound of Clary's scream.
Her hair was no longer it's gorgeous, fiery red. It was now yellow, almost gold, like an Olympic medal.
"What did you do?" She yelled.
"You were the one who said you wanted yellow!" He tried to reason with her. "It's pretty. Like a golden retriever! Or a really pretty egg yolk!"
"Not helping." She grumbled, staring into the mirror. What would her mom say? What would Simon say? What would Jace say? "When does this stuff come out?"
Magnus thought for a moment. "The lady said six months at the least. But if you…"
Clary screamed again. "Six months? I can't wait that long! What's everyone going to say?"
"Relax. You just tell them, "Hey guys. Last night, I decided I didn't want to be a carrot top anymore, so I made myself look like an Oscar." Clary whacked him. "Watch it! Look, you can just wear a hat until you decide to tell them. I'm sure I've got a good one here somewhere." Clary nodded. They left the bathroom, but not before Clary caught another glance at her golden tresses. She sighed, then shut the light off.
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The Institute was a relief to be in. The outside cold nipped at noses and coated eyelashes. Clary looked around; no one was there. Relieved, she took off her green coat and placed it on a hook. She left the on the hat Magnus had let her borrow. It was a black beanie that covered the golden locks that hadn't been secured in her tight bun. Shaking off her shoes, she headed up the stairs. She wanted to check in on Jace, and she felt like he would be the most understanding about her hair. After all, he had gold eyes. He might understand having goldish-colored hair.
Gently, she knocked on Jace's door. Hopefully, he wasn't sleeping; she didn't really want to get her mother's reaction to her hair before she got Jace's. She heard some rustling on the other side of the door before it swung open. Jace stood in front of her, hair mussed and suffering an extreme case of bedhead. He wore a black t-shirt and faded jeans. All in all, though, he looked much better than he'd looked last night. His skin was its usual color, and his face was flushed and pink, indicating he'd been training before she arrived. He grinned at Clary and pulled her in for a kiss. She responded immediately, letting their lips mold together in a pattern they'd both grown accustomed to over time. He started to fall back into his room, pulling Clary with him. He slammed the door shut with his foot, then reached up to pull off her hat. She felt his fingers slowly tug at it and she backed up, away from where he could reach her. He stared at her with a slightly hurt expression. Quickly, to make sure he wasn't wounded by her actions, she asked "You're sick, aren't you? You should be sleeping, not training." She tried to look solemn, but her mask cracked at the comment he made.
"I told Izzy about how her food was contaminated and cause me to suffer serious mental illness and almost send me to the grave. She whacked me, then gave me some kind of remedy Maryse told her about. It tasted like Church's hairballs but I feel fine now. I guess Izzy can be handy at times." Clary snickered, then remembered why she was here.
"Jace, I need to tell you something about last night." She started, sitting down on his bed. His smile faded at her neutral tone, and he sat down too, keeping a reasonable distance. She sighed, then recounted the events of the night up until the point where Magnus dragged her out of the bar, adding extraneous details to give herself more time. "Then we went to this place with a nice lady who had really cool hair and-"
"Clary," Jace interrupted, sarcasm dripping from his words, "as interesting as this is, I think I'd like to see the point of this story." Clary bit her lip; the moment of truth had come. She slowly reached up to her hat and took it off, shaking her hair out as she freed it. She stared down at her hands, which were toying with the hat. Finally, after the loudest silence ever heard, she looked up at Jace. Even he couldn't manage a poker-face; his eyes were wide, and his mouth was open a little. Seeing her gazing at him, he stared at her longer. There seemed to be a rule; whoever spoke first was the loser. They both were at a loss for words.
I should never have dyed my hair, or had so many drinks, or even gone out that night! Now he hates you. He always said that he loved my hair the way it was, and now it looks like like a golden retriever, she thought hopelessly. She felt tears start to well up in her eye but refused to let it fall. Her emotions betrayed her and a small drop fell from her eye, traveling down her face. The next one hit the bedsheet, and even though it was such a small droplet, Jace looked at her after it crashed down. His eyes filled with sympathy for her, and he crawled over to her slowly, like a lion stalking its prey.
"Clary, look at me," he coaxed, "You need to look at me." She finally met his eyes, a beautiful golden color. The surprise in them was gone, and only concerned for her was present. He blew out a gust of breath. "I'm just...surprised, I guess. I never thought you would go for something like…" He gestured with his hands towards her hair, "this." Hearing this, she felt more tears slowly well up. He realized what he'd said and his eyes expressed the shock he was feeling at his words. He quickly took her into his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder, letting his shirt catch the tears that had fallen out of her eyes. She felt him hesitate for a moment before burying his head in her golden locks. "No, I didn't mean it like that," he said tenderly, stroking her curls. "It's just that I never imagined you dying your hair, much less such a vibrant color. I've always just seen you as a redhead. This," he said, wrapping a finger around one of her locks," will just take some getting used to." Clary considered this. He wasn't mad, just surprised at her sudden change. I would be too if his hair suddenly turned golden.
"It comes out after six months, at the least," she mumbled into his shirt. He chuckled. "Did you tell your mother and Luke yet?" He asked. She shook her head.
"Then prepare yourself for the worst," He warned. "Your mother mad is like a rabid bull." She faintly laughed.
"Well then," He said, pulling her up as he walked over to the door, "I have an errand to run." Curious, she followed him out.
"And what would that be?" She inquired. Picking up the pace, he grabbed his coat and put it on, handing Clary hers. She shrugged into it and tugged on his coat. "Jace?"
Heading out the door, he revealed his intentions. "Well, we have to have a redhead in this relationship, don't we?"
"Jace, I'm not dying my hair red again. I want it to be natural and…" He interrupted her.
"Oh, not you," he reassured her, "I've always been curious how I'd look with red hair anyway."
A/N
It's over! It took me forever to write this, but it was so much fun! Please review! Tell me if I should continue writing or not. I kind of liked writing Jace as sick. It was fun to turn his strong and confident character into a person too sick to even stand. Maybe another story soon? ;) Also, I am in need a of Beta Reader for my next story. If anyone is interested, please PM me! It would be a huge help. Until next time!