***LoS SPOILERS***

In which the meeting in Alicante didn't turn into a pile of shit, no Blackthorns nor Lightwoods died, and the evil Centurions got what was coming to them. Let's also pretend Wayland Manor still stands. Because reasons.

Emma couldn't think. She had slipped out of the meeting as it wound down; she knew in the logical part of her mind that she should be relieved, ecstatic even. And she was, logically, though logic had never had much sway against emotion.

Clutching Cortana, she stumbled haphazardly through the forest, desperate to get away from the city and the celebration in the faces of her friends. Her family. The only family she'd had over the past five years, the family she'd soon be leaving behind. She didn't feel like celebrating; she felt like disappearing into this forest and emerging someplace else as someone else, though it was futile to dream. She wanted to feel bitter, to find herself miles away from anyone so that she could scream and destroy and grieve so when she had to face the Blackthorns again, she could do so without breaking before them all.

It wasn't as much of a conscious plan as it was a necessity for her soul, something so primal she couldn't have planned it until it was there, wretched from her chest as she fell to her knees in the irritatingly green grass. It seemed wrong for Idris to be so perfect when a fundamental part of herself was cracked open, raw and writhing. Fisting the grass in her shaking hands, Emma ripped the blades from the earth and let gravity be her guide as it fell dejectedly from her palms, falling back to the ground as she collapsed with it, sobs breaking through the placid silence of the forest.

"Why?" she cried, angry with the birds that scattered at her outburst. She shouted the word over and over again until her lungs hurt and she was choking, gagging on the sound and the shuddering screams she held back for so long. She wished for the ocean as she laid trembling under the canopy of leaves, the way it engulfed sound like sustenance. The forest had no such mercy; Emma stood on shaking legs, stumbling deeper through the trees to know she was truly alone, that nobody could have followed the sounds of her grief.

That's what this was, Emma thought. Grief at having to leave her family, her friends, her life, her Julian. Julian. Julian…

It was all so unfair, no matter how bitter and childlike she felt at the thought. She had known life was unfair when she was twelve and her parents were killed, when Helen was exiled, when Julian was left raising four children before he was even a teenager. She knew the life of a Shadowhunter would always be unfair but this fate seemed downright cruel. She had lost everything and agreed to something she knew in her heart would be her demise before she was old enough to be making such decisions responsibly, before the implications of Julian's and her choices were clear. All Emma had known was that she was alone and she couldn't survive being taken from the only person she had left. Julian was a spark of hope, and staying with him was rudimentary.

She didn't know what she would change if given the chance, though a part of her knew she'd take this path anyway. Retrospect and all, she'd have chosen Julian no matter what. That only made it worse; he was her constant, and she couldn't - wouldn't - change that.

Emma laid on her side, her knees curved into her chest, Cortana sheathed across her heart. She didn't bother to stop the tears that slipped over the bridge of her nose, creating a patch of mud against her cheek. She didn't care.

The sun crept over the trees, drawing goosebumps out over her skin as shadows danced across the grass. Cursing herself for not thinking ahead, Emma drew her stele from her bra and traced a warmth rune onto her forearm, relishing in the burn. She pulled her sweater more tightly over herself and let her heavy eyelids slip shut. She thought briefly that sleeping in the forest might not be her best decision yet but she didn't care. Let the monsters find her. She almost dared them to.

Julian was on his way back to Lightwood manor when he nearly ran into a tall, frenzied warlock chasing after a small blue boy. "Max," Magnus shouted, clenching his fists to no doubt stifle the urge to use magic to lure his toddler back to him.

Acting on Shadowhunter and fatherly instincts, Julian swept the boy up in his arms before he was out of reach, offering him a quiet sorry, bud as he handed him back to his dad.

Magnus nodded his appreciation then raised an eyebrow at Julian who seemed to have something to say.

"Emma," Julian breathed, raking his hand through his tousled hair. It had been a long day. "Have you seen her?"

Magnus narrowed his eye, switching his squirming kid to the other arm. "I… thought she'd be with you. I haven't seen her since the start of the meeting."

Julian shook his head, trying to steady the quickly-rising rate of his heart. "Maybe she went after the Cohort," he wondered aloud, drawing his phone from his pocket. "Thanks, Magnus."

Before the warlock had a chance to question what he was being thanked for, Julian was jogging down the street, his phone pressed to his ear.

Julian knew it was pointless, electronics didn't work well, if at all in Idris. Something about the wards, if he remembered correctly. Still, he tried. The call wouldn't connect and Julian cursed under his breath, drawing nearer to the Blackthorn manor where his family would be waiting. He mentally chastised himself, sure Emma would be there with the kids. He had nothing to worry about.

She wasn't there, though. In fact, nobody had seen her for most of the day. Livvy remembered seeing her slip out of the meeting and nobody had seen her since. Dread rose up in Julian like something from a swamp, deep and dark. Emma, he thought, hoping she could hear him through their bond, no matter how unlikely. Where are you?

Nothing.

Tempering his panic, he looked at the steadily setting sun and felt his heart hammering in his chest. Under normal circumstances, he would have admired the pinks and oranges of the sunset, considering which shades he'd need to capture it exactly. Right now he thought only of Emma.

Maybe she was with the Inquisitor. Maybe she was with Mark, or Cristina. Not for the first time, Julian cursed the inconvenience of Idris's lack of technology as he pulled his stele from his pocket and traced a tracking rune on the back of his hand. Reaching into his weapons belt, he pulled out a hair tie of Emma's he kept on him most of the time, a few of her golden hairs twisted around it. He slipped it over his wrist and let the rune lead the way.

By the time the sun had set fully, Julian was miles into the forest, hearing nothing but the sounds of crickets around him. The night vision rune he'd drawn on his arm was still effective as Julian traipsed through the forest, following what seemed like an impossible trail. What was Emma doing out here? Was she okay? Was she alone?

Julian didn't try to curb his terror as he wondered what he'd find. Surely he would know if she was… No, he wouldn't think about that. She was out here, he knew it. He felt her. But why? Why-?

And there she was. She was curled on the forest floor, trembling slightly, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.i Trembling/i, Julian thought. She was trembling, not still. Alive. Alive.

"Emma!" he cried, closing the distance between them in a mere few steps of his long legs. His witchlight was in his hand in an instant as he fell to his knees before his parabatai, his- his what? "Emma," he whispered, though his tone was more of a shout. "Emma, wake up."

Her eyes fluttered open and she was staring back at him, the deep chocolate of her eyes illuminated in the faint blue light. She started, sitting up instinctively as her eyes looked around the clearing as if confused. Anger rose in Julian as he took her in, replacing the fear that slid through his veins mere moments before. Before he could tame himself, he was shouting.

"What the hell are you doing out here, Emma?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes, turning her face away from him as if to hide. Her gentle trembling had become steady shaking as she was pulled from her cocoon of body heat she'd found curled up into herself.

"Emma!"

She flinched at his tone and Julian saw her jaw quiver and clench. She was- had she been crying? Guilt swept over Julian, ashamed by his anger when this person he loved needed anything else from him. "Emma," he breathed, his tone more gentle this time. "Emma, why are you out here? You can't sleep in the forest."

Emma just shook her head, reaching up to cover her face with her hands. It was only as she did that Julian noticed her muddied face, her eyes and nose rimmed in red, and the dried tear tracks all over her face like illuminated snail paths. A part of him broke at the sight as he reached for her, tangling his fingers in hers as he pulled her hands off her face. Had she come out here… to cry? To be alone? "Emma."

He didn't know what to say. He knew there was little he could say to fix this, to make it all stop, to give her the happy life she deserved. Because she did deserve that, after everything. And it devastated Julian to know that he wasn't sure he could ever give that to her, no matter how much every cell in his body worshipped every cell in hers. No matter their love.

"Let's get you home, Em," Julian said, his voice so tender that it physically hurt Emma while still cauterizing the wound. He pulled her to him, drawing her into his lap to absorb some of his accumulated heat. She was so cold, it felt bone-deep. Emma pushed herself against Julian, burying her nose into his neck, breathing his undeniably clove-and-sweat scent that made her heart tumble around in her chest, utterly unhinged.

"I want to be alone with you," Emma whispered, her ragged breath low and raw. She felt Julian shudder around her, his arms dragging their bodies closer together until they were all but entangled. "You're so warm," she mused, her head lolling to his shoulder. "I'm cold."

"I can tell," Julian responded, bending backwards and gaining enough room to open his jacket to her. Emma nuzzled closer to him, her hands reaching around to Julian's back as her body relaxed at the warmth. "Here," Julian said, retrieving his stele from his pocket. Brushing her hair behind a shoulder, he pushed her layers aside to sketch a warmth rune onto her chest. The closer to the heart, the more effective the rune. Emma's breath hitched as Julian bent down to kiss the new rune so, so gently that it made her heart ache. When he pulled back, their eye contact was charged; Julian couldn't stop himself before his lips were on hers.

It was a slow kiss, so unlike the others they'd shared. Emma wanted a lifetime of kisses like these. She wanted so much more time with Julian, but she would take tonight if he'd give it.

"I mean it, Jules-"

"Julian," he corrected immediately. "Please."

"Julian," Emma amended, the briefest hint of a smile on her lips. "I want to be alone somewhere tonight. I want a night with you before…" I'm exiled, she thought. She closed her eyes as she remembered what the coming days would entail, and the months – years, even – that followed.

Julian nodded slowly as his lips brushed hers again. Emma's hands found Julian's cheek, grinning slightly at the stubble she found there. "Okay," he said as they pulled apart. "Let's find somewhere to be alone, then."

"I think I know somewhere we can go."

"Penny for your thoughts?" Julian asked as they winded their way through the forest, hands clasped together like a lifeline.

Emma sighed deeply, though not at the exertion. "I'm just. I don't know. Sad. Angry. It's not fair and I know that makes me sound like a child, but-"

"You don't," Julian cut in, looking towards her over the witchlight. "It isn't fair. It's… By the Angel, Emma, I'd do anything, you know that don't you?"

Emma nodded grimly. She did. God, she did. She only hoped her exile would do what they intended it to. She couldn't think of that, though, not when they'd have this night. Not when his hand was laced with hers and she could pretend this was their forever instead of an isolated, treasonous night.

"What about you?" Emma asked, nudging Julian as they walked through the night. The moon was nearly full, blessedly illuminating Idris; it felt almost like a prayer. "What are you thinking about?"

Glancing at Julian, Emma caught what could only be a carefully-guarded smile. "I'm thinking about how slowly I want to take things tonight. We've never had the chance to. I'm thinking about all I can wring from you, in case it's all we will ever get."

Emma's heart began to race as she looked at Julian from the corner of her eye, unable to keep the sly grin off her face. This was a side of him she hardly knew and she found herself hoping for the dozenth time that they had more time.

They walked the rest of the way in near silence, occasionally sharing grins that varied in heat and sentiment until they found themselves at the top of a hill, staring down at an old, lovely house. The charred remains of its neighboring home stood slightly to the left.

"Wayland manor?" Julian asked, sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

Emma shrugged. "I figured it was as good as any. I don't think anybody's been here in years and it's far enough away from others."

"Sounds perfect," Julian concurred as they headed down the hill.