Yes, I know. A multi-chaptered story? Laura, are you serious? Yes I am. I know that I really suck at keeping up with multi-chaptered stories. But this one won't be too long, maybe 3 or 4 chapters, and I felt like it was simply too long/complex for a oneshot. I swear I will do my best to complete this.

I recently got hooked on The Mortal Instruments series, and while I was reading, this idea for a Bade story popped into my mind and just wouldn't let me go, so I decided to write it. You don't have to know the books to understand the story (I think), since I only borrowed their world, but not the characters. I summed up what you have to know in order to understand the story below.

Disclaimer: I own neither Victorious, nor The Mortal Instruments, I'm just taking both worlds and mixing them together for fun.

This is the basic knowledge you need in order to understand the story. If you're familiar with TMI, you can skip this part and move on to the story. And don't worry, I promise there aren't any spoilers for those who still want to read the books:

Shadowhunters (or Nephilim) are a secretive race of human who hunt demons and keep other so-called Downworlders, such as demons and werewolves, under control. Common humans can't usually become Shadowhunters, you are born to be one and normally receive a strict training throughout your childhood years, to be prepared for what is about to come. Most Shadowhunters are born and raised in Idris, a country that is unknown to mundanes (humans). After they complete their training, they are usually sent out to where they are needed. Located in all larges cities worldwide are so called Institutes, safe houses for Shadowhunters, usually located in churches. They are glamoured, so that mundanes who look at them will usually see a rundown church. Those Institutes are open to all Shadowhunters who mean no harm. Shadownhunters use runes, which they draw on their skin using a stele. They have many effects and are what makes them stronger than humans.

/ / /

CYNOSURE

Fire. It was all he could see. Flames and embers, illuminating the night sky, as they ate their way through the houses and stables. The tiny village was ablaze, leaving it hard to imagine its former beauty, now that the sizzling hot fire had snared all that it once was in its entirety. Demon fire.

He opened his mouth, trying to call for his parents, but all that came out was a dry cough. People ran past him, screaming, crying, terrified. Beside him, one of the houses caved in under the flames with a tremendous crack. At the last second, the little boy managed to cover his eyes from the soaring sparks. Tightly clutched in his hand, was an amulet that his father had just given him the second before the demons attacked. He didn't know what it was for, but right now it was all that he had of his parents. He didn't know if they were still alive, if the demons had killed them, if they had still been in their house when it collapsed.

He was surprised to find tears rolling down his cheeks, his mouth felt so dry that he had doubted to find a single drop of water in his body still. He quickly wiped them off and tried to get up, but his legs wouldn't let him. He felt so weak, so worn out, his eyelids felt so heavy all of a sudden...

"You can't just sit here, are you stupid?" It was the voice of a girl. Reluctantly, he forced his eyes open. Smoke was clouding his vision, and he couldn't see much more of her than her tiny silhouette. "Come on," she ordered, and grabbed his hand, pulling him on his feet and dragging him with her, away from the flames. She only turned around once to check on him, quick enough that he couldn't catch more of her features than her sapphire blue eyes. The cold color contrasted with the reddish light the fire had bathed all the surroundings in.

Once they had reached the edge of town, she let go of his hand. Away from the fire it was dark, the crescent moon didn't offer much light. It was just enough to make out the nod she gave him, before she turned around and vanished into the night. Before he could even realize what had just happened, he felt an arm wrapping around him and lifting him into the air. "Beck! You're all right!"

The boy spun around, to find himself with a bald man in loose clothes, much unlike what Shadowhunters usually wore. "Sikowitz!"

"We don't have much time, Beck, we have to get to the portal," the man said, and was already hurrying back into the village. The other villagers who were still alive were moving against them, away from the flames, almost knocking the two of them over. But Sikowitz was resolute, he put his arms protectively around the little boy, and stormed into one of the houses that appeared to be his own. Beck screamed, afraid of the fire, but Sikowitz ignored him and made his way to the object he was looking for.

A big, antique mirror was leaning against a wall in the back of the room, seemingly unharmed by the fire. Beck knew what it was, a portal, that could get them anywhere, away from here. He had seen Sikowitz and his father use it countless times. His father. Beck's eyes widened. "What about my parents?" he cried as they were about to step into the mirror. Sikowitz gave him a pitying glance, shaking his head. Then he tightened his grip around the boy and went straight through the mirror.

The next thing Beck remembered, was silence. No crackling fire, no screams and cries and destruction. He looked around and found himself in a mostly gray room with a big table and some comfortable looking chairs placed around it. Sikowitz was already on his feet, beating soot out of his clothes. The boy got up, hesitantly examining his body for injuries. Except for a piercing pain in his throat, caused by the smoke, he assumed, he felt fine, according to the circumstances. As he sprawled out his arms in front of him, though, he noticed one thing.

The amulet was gone.

/ / /

Soundlessly, she moved through the night, tightly clutching her left arm. The injuries had weakened her body, but not her skills. Blood was seeping right through the piece of cloth she had wrapped around the gash right above her elbow, but at least it was keeping it from dripping on the ground. The last thing she wanted was to leave traces for the demons to find. She instinctively knew where to go, invisible forces guiding her.

She came to a halt in front of the solid wood doors of what appeared to be a church, panting heavily. She knew that her legs wouldn't carry her for much longer. "In the name of the Clave," she breathed. "I ask entry to this holy place."

As if by an invisible hand, the heavy doors swung open and she hauled herself in. The Los Angeles Institute was one of the prettier ones, she noticed. The floor was marble, and stained-glass windows edged the way to the elevator, to which she was now heading. In the faint light coming from the ceiling (witchlight, she assumed), more of her injuries became visible. Her dark clothes were blood-stained, most of it coming from a wound on her stomach and arm, and she was limping on one leg. Her pretty face was covered in little scratches and also bigger gashes, blood dripping on her left eye from a cut just above her eyebrow. Despite all that, she valiantly kept herself on her feet, hobbling to the elevator.

Her fingers left bloody marks on the buttons as she pressed them and was finally on her way downstairs. When the doors opened again, she was greeted with the sight of a boy standing in the hallway, curiously eying her. He was dressed in pajamas, a dressing gown loosely thrown over his shoulders. He probably wasn't much older than herself, she thought, seventeen at the most. "Hey," he greeted. "I heard noises so I–" He abruptly stopped talking when she stepped out of the elevator and into the light, and sharply inhaled at the sight of the injured girl. "Woah, let me help y–"

"Weapons' room," she interrupted him in a commanding tone, but her voice was lacking force. She was still holding her left arm, the cloth soaked with so much blood that it started running down to her hand now, where it pooled at her finger tips before dripping on the white floor. He looked at her questioningly, eyebrows drawn together, and opened his mouth to retort something, but she was faster. "Where is the weapons' room, idiot," she spat, this time louder, and she could taste blood streaming into her mouth from one of her many wounds.

He was taken aback by her harshness, even though it seemed somewhat familiar to him in a strange way, and just wordlessly pointed behind her, to where a brazen door marked the end of the corridor. She cursed under her breath as she began to move her sore body again, and started limping towards the door. The boy watched her for a moment, still confused, before he hesitantly followed her into the weapons' room of the Institute.

The only light in the room fell through the door she had left open behind her, and made the room seem even more menacing than it already was, covering it in dim shadows. The weapons' room had no windows, and every inch of the wall was covered in axes, swords, whips, bows, and other threatening-looking items that would make no sense to anyone who was unfamiliar with the Shadowhunter business. The girl was currently rifling through the weapons that were placed on a big, wooden table in the middle of the room, cursing while doing so, because she obviously couldn't find what she was looking for.

The boy watched her from the door frame, he wasn't entirely sure how to handle this situation. Whoever this Shadowhunter girl was, she knew exactly what she wanted and was determined to find it, and she didn't seem to care much about his presence at all. However, suddenly, she addressed him, "Don't you have any steles in this room?" Her tone was somewhere between desperation and anger.

"Steles?" he asked baffled. "If you're a Shadowhunter, why don't you have your own?"

"I lost it in the battle, genius," she snapped, while angrily shoving a stack of knives aside. "Why else would I be here?"

Finally, he took a few steps inside the room. "Well, for starters, a stele is hardly a weapon," he lectured, earning himself a glare. "But you can borrow mine." He slid his hand into the pocket of his gown, and revealed a long, slender twig, glinting in emerald green. In a few more steps he was beside her, offering her the tool. A few stains of blood remained on his hand when she snatched it from him, where her fingers had brushed his palm.

Ungainly, she started off by ripping the cloth from her arm using her teeth, since her hand was now occupied with the stele. It was getting harder to move, she had lost a lot of blood and was slowly starting to feel dizzy. Only adrenaline was keeping her on her feet. She impatiently rammed the stele against her arm, drawing a healing rune on her skin with shaky hands.

The boy watched as she flinched at the touch of the stele against her skin, he knew that it had to be painful on such a severe gash. He took another step forward and cautiously placed a hand on the arm she was drawing with. "Here," he said, taking the stele out of her hands. "Let me help you." He could see that she wasn't too happy with accepting his help, but probably too tired to protest. Pushing her gently so that she turned to face him, he carefully grabbed her injured arm and finished the Iratze rune. She sighed in relief as the gash started closing, easing the sharp pain in her arm. "Now let me see this one," the boy said calmly, pointing at a spot on her torso, where blood seeped through a few rips in her black shirt. He carefully lifted her top just enough to reveal the gashing wound on her pale stomach. It looked like something with long claws had slashed her open.

As gently as he could, he started drawing another rune, but stopped when she winced at the pain. "I'm sorry," he murmured and continued his work, knowing that there was no other way to help her. He brought the stele to a halt when he finished, and eyed her stomach, waiting for the healing power to take effect. Slowly, the wound started closing. Way too slowly, he thought.

The girl noticed his unease. "Kahek venom," she told him, and he nodded, suddenly understanding. Other than the venom of other demons, that of Kaheks wasn't strong enough to overrule the effect of healing runes completely, but it slowed down the process.

After he had taken care of her leg as well, he helped her up. She was still weak on her feet, and so she supported herself on his shoulder. "Are you sure you can walk?" he asked worriedly. She was about to nod, when her legs caved in again, and what seemed like just a millisecond later, she found herself in his arms instead of the cold stony floor, where she had landed if he hadn't caught her. Without asking further questions, he swept her up into his arms and carried her out of the room.

When he stepped into the corridor, he hesitated for a moment, pondering over his options. The residential wing was on the other end of the building, and even though the girl wasn't all that heavy and he would have had the strength to carry her over there, he decided that he didn't want to waste too much time. Despite her fixed injuries (except for the one on her stomach, which was still in the healing process), she was still weak and he wanted her to get some rest as soon as possible. Suddenly decided, he walked along the corridor until he reached the second last room on the right. He carelessly kicked the half-closed door open and went straight to the bed that was placed in the middle on one of the walls, and gently placed her in it, before pulling off her jacket and boots. She didn't resist, but uncomfortably bit her lip. She didn't like being dependent on anyone.

He stuffed some pillows under head, and then told her that he'd be right back while already hurrying out of the room. It was a nice room, not very organized, but not exactly messy, either, she noticed, taking in the sight while waiting for him. There wasn't much furniture beside the huge bed she was currently lying in, just a desk and a drawer. An open door to her right revealed a small bathroom attached to the room. When he came back, he was carrying a first aid kit, as well as a washcloth in a bowl of hot water and a towel.

"Can you sit?" he asked and helped her up when she nodded. Carefully, he started cleaning her face from the dry blood that stuck to her skin and hair. He worked his way down her arms, careful not to apply too much pressure where the gash had been, all while she watched him silently. "I'm Beckett Oliver," he told her between his work. "But you can call me Beck. What's your name?"

He looked up from her arm and for the first time, took in her facial features. She was very pretty, he thought, and there was something about her piercing blue eyes that struck him. She lifted her head as well, and her eyes met his. "Jade."

"Jade," he repeated thoughtfully. "That's a pretty name." He handed her the washcloth. "Here. I'll give you some privacy to clean the rest if you can, and I'll go look for some clothes for you." She nodded and took it from him, before he left the room once again.

Slowly, Jade lifted up her half-torn up shirt, and carefully removed the clotted blood from around the gashes. She flinched a little at the pain, but as a Shadowhunter, she was rather tolerant to it, as she had spent her whole life training and fighting.

Beck knocked on the door soon after, and entered the room with a fresh pair of pajamas in his hands. "They might be a little big on you," he said apologetically while handing them to her. "But I think they will do."

She looked up at him. A genuine smile played on his lips, something she didn't see too often. Not that she saw people all that often anyway. Beck had fluffy hair that reached almost to his shoulders, and that right now, stuck out in all directions, implying that he had probably been sleeping before she arrived. She didn't like how welcome he made her feel, feelings in general were nothing but a distraction in their business. "Thanks," she told him reluctantly. The healing runes had finally taken enough effect for her to carefully limp to be bathroom nearby, where she changed into the pajamas and splashed some cold water in her face.

When she got back, she found Beck sitting in a large armchair next to his desk. She plopped back down onto the bed. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Just waiting for you," he explained, then got up. "But if you're okay, I will leave you to yourself now. Both of us should get some sleep. I'll be in the residential wing."

"The residential wing?" she questioned. "I had the impression you lived here. Permanently, I mean."

"I do," he replied, his voice playful but soft. "But you're currently occupying my bed."

She let her eyes wander down, as if she hadn't realized what she was sitting on before. "Oh," she said. "So this is your room?"

He confirmed with a nod, then his expression was suddenly firm. He gave her a stern look, making sure to lock eyes with her to show his serious concern. He walked over to stand in front of her. "What happened?" It was the question that he had been dying to ask since the moment she stepped out of the elevator, bloody and badly injured.

She sighed. "You're a Shadowhunter yourself, you know how things get." She didn't look at him. Instead, she smoothed the blanket beneath her.

"Jade," His tone was probing, yet a bit pitying. "You know as much as I do that this isn't how things usually are. Why are you alone? Don't you have a partner to back you up?"

She avoided the question. "What about you? Do you live here all by yourself?"

He eyed her for a second, but decided that, since she had been through a lot for one night, he would let her get away with it for now. "No. I live he with my godfather, he guards the place. He's just out of town right now."

"I see," she said, and he nodded, before slowly making his way to the door.

"Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything," he told her before leaving. "Good night, Jade."

/ / /

Yes? No? Maybe? This is my first attempt at anything like this and very much unlike my other stories, so I'm really looking forward to some feedback. Please tell me if it's worth continuing and don't hesitate to PM me if you have any questions. Also, I'm sorry if I didn't get all the details right. I haven't read all of the books myself yet.