It was always the same story Maryse Lightwood would tell her when she asked what had happened on her birthday seventeen years ago. On the day she was born, someone had left her at the doorstep of the Institute and left before Maryse could identify who he or she was. Sometimes, she would catch Maryse looking at her in a curious way, as if she resembled someone Maryse knew before the Circle fell.

There was once she had stumbled upon an old picture of the Circle. One of the only ones Maryse had in the Institute. Although the photo was in black and white, something in her gut told her that the woman standing next to Maryse might be her mother, or someone related to her. She was smiling the same way as Clary did, when she was in the mood for taking photos. When she asked Maryse who the woman was, Maryse shook her head sadly and replied, "That's Jocelyn Fairchild. We haven't seen her since we left Idris."

Even before she had first asked Maryse about her background, she had always known that she had been adopted by the Institute, and by the Lightwoods. There was no way she was biologically related to them, with her flaming red hair a stark contrast to their dark hair. She felt like an outsider, the only one who was not part of a family in the Institute, until Jace, the golden-haired boy, came to live with them when she was nine. Jace and Alec became parabatai soon after, and she was back to feeling like she did not belong again. It was not as if she did not get along with the other Nephilim. Jace was arrogant, almost too arrogant for his own good. But she knew beneath that façade, he was hurting. How else would someone who had seen his father murdered protect himself from feeling that vulnerable again?

Isabelle was the sister she had always wanted, but Clary did not exactly identify with the way Isabelle carried herself- confident in her own skin, being able to charm the boys with that smart mouth of hers. And Alec, she wanted him to be more than a brother. Occasionally, she would catch him glancing in her direction during breakfast or even before training and then Jace, of all people, had to interrupt those moments by barreling in and distracting Alec with some enthralling talk of his. She could tell from the exaggerated gestures he would make. It was probably some talk about how he had developed some new style of fighting or mindless chatter about how Alec should follow his lead and pick up girls at clubs.

That night, Isabelle was paired with Jace, and she was paired with Alec. There had been demon sightings in two opposite locations in the city and they had thought the best strategy was to split up into pairs for investigation. As they headed into the shadows of the Brooklyn streets, she followed wordlessly behind Alec, his black gear blending in with the barely surroundings and the shape of him illuminated only by the witchlight in his hand.

She was not paying much attention to the direction they were heading. Instead, her eyes searched the streets, trying to find someone who looked a little like her, with red hair and green eyes. She had been doing that ever since Maryse told her about Jocelyn Fairchild and Clary had always believed that Jocelyn was her mother. She just knew. Each time she thought she saw someone who she thought was Jocelyn, she blinked and then that person was gone, as if she had never existed at all.

"You've been very quiet, Clary. That's quite unlike you. What are you thinking about?" he asked, without glancing back at her.

"Nothing much," she replied.

"I can tell you're lying, Clary. We grew up together; I know when you are telling the truth and when you are not."

She let out a sigh. Alec was perceptive; she had to give him credit for it. "Alright, I was thinking about my mother. And why she didn't want me."

Alec suddenly stopped in his track, turning to face her. But she continued walking forward without realizing and ran right into the solid wall of his chest. His arms were around hers and she looked up, his face barely visible in the pale moonlight. "You're part of us. That's all that matters. Your mother must have had reasons for leaving you with the Institute."

"But why hasn't she come back for me? It's been seventeen years."

"Clary, we've been through this." His tone was softer than she would have expected with words like that. "By giving you over to the Institute, she gave us the right, and privilege, to raise you and to provide you with proper training as a Shadowhunter. And you're in good hands, never doubt that."

"But she could just have visited." She knew she was being difficult, but with each passing year, and the quiet birthdays she celebrated in the comfort of her room (she had always refused any talk of celebration by the Lightwoods), she yearned to know who her mother was, whether she was alive or dead, and why she could not bring her up.

"I know, Clary. But times were difficult then. With Valentine's Circle falling apart, it was not exactly the best of times." She felt the tips of his fingers caressing her cheek. Her heartbeat sped up and she gasped from the contact of his skin against hers, immediately causing him to drop his hands to his side. "I'm sorry," he apologized before turning around and continuing to walk ahead.

"Don't be," she said under her breath, while mentally chiding herself for reacting so adversely to his little gesture.

"Come on, we've got demons to slay," he called out to her in a teasing voice, as if what happened just now was just a figment of her imagination. Catching up to him, she walked on his right side for the rest of the route towards the abandoned warehouse, her eyes on the ground and not once did she look up at him.

As they walked next to each other silently, Alec fought the urge to brush his fingers against hers. He scolded himself for being so forward, touching her face when it was hardly appropriate to do so, and then watching her stiffen under his touch. Why was I so impulsive?

He remembered when he started having feelings for her. When she was nine, before Jace came to the Institute, there was a fierce thunderstorm raging. She had knocked on his door, their rooms being the only ones at the west wing of the Institute, and asked if she could come in. Her lips were trembling as she stood in the doorway, cringing when thunder roared in the distance. He gave her his hand and led her to his bed. Tucking her under the covers, he had whispered to her that she did not have to be afraid because he was right next to her. He had stayed on top of the covers, his fingers threaded in her hair, singing her a lullaby as she fell asleep. Something stirred within him, this sense of protectiveness- that he wanted to be always be there for her, no matter how, no matter when. And how this girl, so small and vulnerable, needed someone to protect her and to allay her fears. Listening to her breathing, which became slow and even, he knew that she was finally relaxed. It was then he had allowed himself to fall asleep. He knew he loved her then. He hated how Jace would ruin the moments he had when he caught her eye across the hallway, how his parabatai would just barge in and bore him with descriptions of Downworlder girls, how beautiful they were, or even plans about wrecking trouble in the streets, when what he had wanted was just to talk to her, when the only girl he thought beautiful was her.

"Alec, I think we're here." Her voice woke him from his reminiscing. "I'll take the front entrance and you take the back?"

He nodded. Before he went off, he squeezed her hand and whispered in her ear, "Be careful."

Their sources had told them that there were three demons in the warehouse. She walked in and made out the shadow of a demon in front of her, with its back facing her. She was thankful for the Soundless rune Alec drew on her arm. Seizing the advantage of surprise, she whispered, "Ithuriel", illuminating her seraph blade and plunging it into the hide of the demon, which screamed an unearthly sound before exploding into a rain of ichor and ashes. And she thought, there goes the element of surprise for the remaining two. Why couldn't demons just die in silence?

Another demon whirled to look at her and she was poised to pick up her seraph blade from where it was on the ground. But before she could take a step further, she saw arrows sticking out from its side, and from the corner of her eye, she saw that Alec had already raised his bow, preparing for the last few shots. Another few more arrows whizzed through the air, and hit dead center at the heart of the demon. It disintegrated into a mix of dust and ink, returning to its home dimension down below.

The last demon was nowhere in sight. Relying on the pale moonlight which lit up the only window near the top of the warehouse and the dim light from her seraph blade, she scanned the area for any movement, only realizing at the very last moment that it was sneaking up on Alec. She watched his expression change as he sensed movement behind him, but she knew that it was too late for him to react in any way- to shoot it, or even to get out of its way.

Just then, an image of a rune appeared in her mind, intertwining lines and loops. Freeze, she murmured, as she hurriedly drew the rune on the ground with her stele and prayed to the Angel that it would work. She looked up and saw both Alec and the demon suspended in mid-air, as if time had stopped or even slowed down. Running towards Alec, she pushed him out of the way and aimed a dagger at the soft underside of the demon's belly before falling to the ground.

The effect of the rune wore off in a matter of minutes. She crashed into Alec, who had regained his movement, and the demon disappeared, leaving smears of black fluid on the ground. His arms wrapped around her tightly as he broke their fall, air rushing out of his lungs as her left shoulder smacked against his chest. The look on his face was unreadable- a mix of worry, fear, shock and wonder.

"What did you do?" He pulled her closer, as if he had just been on the verge of losing her.

"I saw a rune in my mind. It stopped time just for a couple of minutes."

"Unbelievable."

That one word, and the soft expression in his eyes, was all it took to open the floodgates of emotions and sensations she had been feeling- adrenaline, fear, despair, relief. "I was this close to losing you, Alec. If the rune hadn't appeared in my mind, I can't imagine what would have happened. How Jace, Isabelle, Max and Maryse would be so devastated. They wouldn't be able to take the loss. I won't be able to live with that pain, that regret that I should have done something to –"

His mouth was on hers before she could finish. Her eyes widened in surprise as he kissed her as if his life depended on it. Her nerve endings tingled, and the tingling slowly grew into fire in her veins. She kissed him back, her lips parting, his tongue slipping in between them. He pressed against her, and she felt his muscles tense against her body. Her hands were looped around his neck, pulling him as close as possible to her, until there was no gap between them. His hands skimmed the sides of her body, from her shoulders down to her waist and back up, eliciting gasps of surprise and pleasure from her. He groaned, the sound reverberating in the middle of his chest as she bit on his lower lip. Her fingers traced the Marks on his neck lightly, causing a sharp intake of breath from him, as they slipped beneath the collar of his shirt and brushed against his collarbone. His hands found the hem on her shirt, and he fingered the hem, while touching her bare skin, sending shivers down her entire body.

It was she who pulled away slowly from him. Looking at him in the eyes, she asked, a little breathless, "What was that for?"

He flinched, as if someone had punched him in the gut. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"Well, I'm not." She smiled shyly. "You just caught me by surprise," she told him while tucking a curl, which had fallen into her eye, behind her ear. "That's it."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"It means, you silly, that I did not mind."

"You like me?"

"Well, was that how someone who doesn't like you would react? For someone so smart, you're incredibly dense, Alec Lightwood."

"But you froze when I touched your face just now in the streets." He shook his head in disbelief.

She sighed, exasperated. "You caught me off guard and that was just terrible timing." Brushing dust off her clothes, she stood up, pulling him up with her. "I've always liked you. I guess I was just waiting for you to figure it out."

"And I was waiting for you as well." He smiled the way she was always fond of. Lopsided, with a little shyness and hesitation.

"So what are we going to do now?" she asked as his hand found hers and he laced his fingers with hers.

"Let's go home, Clary."