Hi there! After a huge mental block, I just suddenly started going with this and I, no matter how sad it was, liked what I was writing. Tell me if you do too as this is the first fanfiction by myself - I also do a joint fanfic with my best friend on here. I'm not sure if it's just going to be a one-shot or not, depending on how it ends up.

DISCLAIMER: As much as I'd love to own this characters, I don't. So don't sue me.

My head was pounding, my heart going a million miles a minute. Sweat was flowing over my eyebrows, marking my face with the rough odor. A fist came at me and I ducked before swinging my leg out and knocking the man off balance. He teetered for a moment uncertainly before crashing down hard to the alley floor.

I pounced on him where he lay on his stomach, the cold ground cutting into his face. My punches flew off his shoulders and lower back as I dug my nails in. No mercy, every part of me screamed. The people around me screamed differently.

"Get that mad man off of him!" I heard somebody yell, then more hands were coming at me. They pulled me off of the huge man's still body and held me against the wall. I struggled, managing to knock two people off before more came and held me steady. The world was blurring and the buzzing sound in my ears made everything seem surreal. There were monsters around every corner; a demon waiting for me somewhere along the way.

A smooth pair of hands reached over and yanked me away from everybody else and then out of the alley. "Oh man," The person was saying over and over, "Oh man, oh man, oh man." The voice seemed familiar but the throbbing in my brain was not letting me think clearly.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up before Clary sees you." At the sound of that name, things cleared up a little. I remembered that girl. I could recall absolutely everything about her. Her blush that would match her fiery red hair, the piercing green eyes, the unnerving way she would be able to know things.

Finally, I spoke. "Simon?" My voice was rough and broken and I had to clear it before continuing. "What are you even doing here?"

He rolled his eyes and grabbed my torn sleeve, pulling me the right way down the street as he spoke. "Of course you can still be haughty while hammered. If you really must know, I was on my way to see ..." He paused. "Maia and then I came across you."

I looked at him to see if his face what emotion is face was betraying but my vision was so blurry it just gave me a headache. I put a hand to my forehead to stop it but it did no good. I stopped and stretched my arm out, feeling for something to balance on. I caught Simon and the swaying ceased for a few moments.

"Oh God," Simon's face was crest-fallen as he looked at me. "What is Clary going to say?" I had no idea why he cared so much. So I did not look exactly like Prince Charming at the moment, I knew that. My hair was mussed and I was pretty sure a clump had been torn out. My shirt, like my pants, was ripped and stained – blood or dirt, I did not know.

I shrugged and gestured for us to continue our promenade. He sighed but did not argue. "If you were on your way to Maia's, isn't she still expecting you?" He did not look back as he shrugged and I stumbled forward to catch up.

"She'll understand. Right now, I'm more focused on getting you to the Institute before the cops come and pick you up." I could tell he desperately did not want to touch me but he held my wrists to lead me around anyways. Smart boy – one less hand to hit him with. My mind calculated, with the way he was holding my wrist, I could easily flip him over my back therefore breaking the jawbone and snapping finger bones at the same time. From then on out, it would simply be the matter of pinning him down and finding his weakest point. I laughed inwardly. What was I talking about? Every part of him was his weakest point.

"Stop looking at me that way." He snapped, his pace getting quicker. I jumped in front of him, halting his increasingly fast movements. I had to swing my arms out to regain my balance.

"Why do you care," I had to pause to gulp in some much needed air. "What Clary thinks about me? Don't you want her to stop liking me so you can have even half a chance?" Simon flinched as if I had actually thrown him over my shoulder.

"Listen," he said, glaring me down. As a vampire, he seemed particularly deadly at this moment. "I don't care about you at all. I probably couldn't care less about you. But I care about Clary and she cares about you. Do you think I want to wake her up from her little happy dreamland where you're perfect and can do no wrong? I'm not the one who's going to bring reality crashing down on her, thank you very much. She's happy right now and I, obviously unlike you, am trying to keep her that way."

The words muddled over my brain, trickling down like the smallest bit of water. I felt like giggling as I pictured water flowing over a brain but knew it was not the time. His big rant was barely making any sense to me in this state. I shook my head as liquids filled my mouth. "Just take me to the Institute."

Simon stared at me for a moment before grabbing my wrist again and leading me away. "I love hearing you say that." I heard him murmur lightly. "I always picture a mental institute in my head."

Clary was at the Institute when we showed up. I groaned but did not try to hide behind Simon as he had boasted I probably would. On the way here, he had tried to fix me up but nothing had made me look any better. I told him that I always looked good no matter what so not to worry. He sighed, rolled his eyes and did not say anything the rest of the way.

"Simon!" She yelled, racing out the door. She stopped cold when she saw me. The color from her face slowly leaked out as she eyes my mangled body. I tried to give her a typical signature smirk but found I could not rid my face of it's dead emotion. My head was still swimming.

"Jace?" Clary said, her voice showing she was confused. I lifted my chin and gave a curt nod, not wanting to look at the hurt plainly dripping off of her face. I walked past her and the urge to pull her into my arms and kiss all her troubles away overtook me. As much as I hated myself for it, I could not give in. Not just yet, anyways.

I went to a washroom and washed my face, visualizing that the water was a healer. My eyes were sore and all I wanted was to lie down and sleep for the next couple hundred of years or so. My memory was all fuzzy like my sight had been. Why had I even gone to that bar? Why had I been punching that man? It all made no sense but it had made me feel better, nonetheless.

I had been walking downtown, hands stuffed deep in my pockets. My head was bent low and my hair was falling over my face. I could feel the eyes of a few teenage girls watching me. They giggled as I looked up and made eye contact with one of them. Normally, I'd have winked. I was in no mood to do that today.

I had been told many times over to never judge a book by it's cover but I could not help it. The blond was failing in math and getting "extra credit" from a male teacher. I knew that by the way she kept her head down and averted eyes when the topic of that school subject came up between her friends and she jumped every time an older man walked by her. By the way she walked, I could see she was getting over an ankle injury that had happened while dancing. The dancing was simply a guess because of her thin, tall frame.

The brunette she was with laughed too much and spoke too loudly. I could tell she wanted to be excepted so badly that she would go to whatever costs to do so. Her eyes frequently darted from side to side and she licked her lips nervously. Whenever somebody came up behind her, she would cover her body subtly. I stopped my mind from making assumptions and continued pacing about.

I heard shouts as I passed a place with a disgusting odor. Still, the curiosity and the sense of knowing it was probably somewhere I shouldn't have been drew me in. The door was already open so there was no tinkle of small bells to announce my arrival. I was sadly disappointed but it just fell into line with everything else that made me feel bad at the moment. I could not even think of going home after the fight I had had with Clary. Every time I tried to fathom it, some part inside of me shriveled up to die. As much as I knew I loved her, I would not be the one to admit that I had been wrong.

A man was standing behind the bar, his unshaved mug was slightly unpleasant to look at but I ordered my drink and kept my head down, carefully surveying the stuff around me. There must have been about only two women in the whole bar. The rest were middle-aged men with potbellies and wives left in the kitchen. I stifled my rage with another hearty gulp. They did not know how good they had it. Everything was placed on a silver platter in front of them and they chose to throw it away here instead.

Before I knew it, I had downed my first glass and another came to take it's place. Then another and another. It seemed to be able to go on forever and I finally smiled for the first time that day when I could not remember the argument. I could scarcely remember my own name.

"I'm going to have to cut you off, buddy." The bartender said, wiping out the last of my glasses. I moaned and reached to grab it out of his hands but he backed away.

"More." I groaned. My head hurt like hell but the drinking made it feel better and then made it feel even worst than ever before.

"Bud, I'm going to call you a cab, okay? I'm going to call you a cab and then you can go home."

"I'm not going home." The events of what happened before I came here flooded back to me in a painful realization. A man's voice at the back of the room was far too loud from his inebriation.

"Speaking of going home, Marge, how's about you come home with me, huh?" I spun around on the stool and promptly fell out of the seat. The ground was a sharp pain on my back and the two people turned to stare at me.

"For the last time, Charlie, no! Leave me alone!" Marge looked much younger than the man and I instantly felt like I needed to do something when he went and wrapped his arms around her petite body. She struggled to get him off.

"Leave her alone!" I yelled, stumbling over and planting a fist-sandwich to his face.

"Jace?" Her voice cut through my reverie. I span on my heel to look at her. She was standing there with that uncertain look on her face as she chewed her bottom lip. My heart ached with the beauty of it all.

"What's going on with you? I just ... I just don't get you sometimes." Her voice was quivering and my stomach clenched. She was looking at me like... like I was dangerous. I opened my arms and pulled her near, inhaling her lovely scent. She was stiff as a board and did not react to my hands. Her voice was muffled as she was pressed up to my chest.

"That's not an answer."

"I thought it was a solution." I tilted my head down and pressed my lips to her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck and then her mouth. Clary was a bit hesitant at first but then gave in as my arms grew like a steel cage around her. Our fight was still in the back of my mind. Why had she said no? It was like our love meant nothing to her yet every time I looked at her, I felt that warmth that would spread to my whole body.

She pulled away slightly to whisper in my ear. "It doesn't solve anything, Jace."

I made her come closer to me in a hug that seemed to defy time. I put my chin on her head and hoped to the Angel she would just let it be. No, I was the one who seemed to always bring it back up. I was the one who could never just laugh and move on. No, it was me but everything about it revolved around her.

Well, there you have it. I was listening to sad music. Next time, I'll tell you to brace yourself. THANKS FOR READING!

- Kay.