Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot. Hope you guys enjoy this, it's another twist on the whole Clary/Jonathon relationship. Have fun and post suggestions and comments in the reviews! ;)

Again warnings like I posted for my other story.

-Sex; Forced sex; Angry sex; Hot sex; All the sex in between

-Incest

-War

-Gore

-If you are a pansy, leave now and come back when you've grown a spine or some tolerance for smut.

-That's sort of it for this story I might add some more as I develop the plot. Anyway-

YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!

BTW the smut with these particular characters is bloody implied with, oh I don't know, the RATED M sign on the story. So maybe if you open your eyes you can stop whining like little school girls.

I mean absolutely no insult to any of my constant readers, I love you guys, but it kind of ticks me off that someone comes in, reads my story, the story with RATED M on it and says 'Oh you need to warn about the *stuff*' In any case I should put a small warning but I'm covering my bases. See look.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ See those arrows, they're pointing to the warning. Read it and be warned.

(No offense) ;)

Lying in Jonathon's bed, looking at the gray painted ceiling, with her brother's warm arm wrapped around her, Clary felt bliss. After so much rejection, so much pain and loss, Clary finally felt at peace. Yet, there was something wrong, something missing. Jace.

Jace had died two months ago from the heavenly fire. Not from the fire itself but what the Silent Brothers had done to try to cure him. In all their testing, poking and prodding, feeding elixirs and potions into Jace, one day it was too much, Jace's body couldn't take it anymore it had finally shut down.

Alec and Isabelle had blamed her for his death because she was the one who stabbed him with Glorious. She was the one to put the heavenly fire in him and Alec and Isabelle had pinned it on her. Maryse and Robert had joined their children in blaming the death of their adoptive child on her.

They had kicked her out of the Institute. Clary went to live with Luke and her mother at his place. They had gotten married before Jace died and had taken up demon hunting again. They had gone out to hunt a Shax demon but it turned out to be an ambush. Her mother had died defending Luke's injured body and when the rescue team had come to help, Luke was already too far-gone; he had too much Shax demon poison in him.

Raphael had come after Simon. He knew the Mark of Cain was gone and it wasn't long before he took his vengeance. Clary had tracked him down herself and driven a stake through his dead heart.

After she had been kicked out of the Institute, after her mother and Luke and Simon had died. Clary's birthday had passed, her eighteenth, and she had lived in Luke's house. She'd had nowhere to go, no one to go to. Until she remembered, after all that chaos and tragedy, that Jonathon was still out there planning the Shadowhunter's demise. Jonathon was the only one who wanted her, who was still coming after her.

Clary had returned from hunting a band of demons running amuck in downtown Brooklyn. She was covered in demon blood, packed to the brim with weapons. She stepped inside Luke's house, she supposed it was her house now, and seen Jonathon. Sitting at the table with his feet propped up on the tabletop, his chair balanced on two legs and his hands folded behind his head, a triumphant smirk played across his face.

When he stood up relief and anger had flooded her body. Relief that someone had finally come to take her away from hell and anger at his previous actions, the relief had won because her grief was still too fresh and she needed someone, her brother. She had practically thrown down her weapons and flung herself into his embrace. Clary had come to a realization. She hated the Shadowhunters, hated the world she was supposed to belong to, hated that it rejected her after she was so unwillingly thrown into it. That Jonathon was right; she did belong to him and him to her. They were the last two Morgensterns, family, but too different to be the same. She realized that she and Jonathon belonged together. Were made for each other. She the angel and he the demon, and Jonathon wanted to change the Shadowhunters. She was in full support of him.

"Brother," she had whispered in his ear, "take me home."

Jonathon had twisted the silver ring on his finger she remembered from so long ago and they had disappeared. Not a moment later they had reappeared in a manor, a bedroom in the manor. When their feet touched the ground Jonathon had looked into Clary's eyes and said, "I knew you'd realize that you belong to me and I to you."

"I was a fool then. Not anymore. I know that you are now mine to have and I will take you if you will have me," Clary had spoken.

She had seen a lust and love burn in Jonathon's black eyes before he brought his mouth down on hers. She had returned his kiss, with a hunger and joy. She had not been touched like this in a long time and she craved it.

Jonathon moved to her neck, trailing his harsh kisses down her throat while undoing the leather straps of her gear. Clary had laughed in pure joy as she bent her head to return his kisses to her throat with ones of her own. She quickly unbuttoned Jonathon's shirt and thrown it across the room.

Jonathon had let out a lustful moan as Clary's teeth had brushed his skin. He'd pulled her back up to him to kiss her again while tearing off the top half of her gear, leaving her in a tunic. Jonathon tore that off and kissed her neck down her throat to her stomach slowly undoing her leather pants as well. On his knees now he slid the leather down her legs and tossed them in the growing pile of clothing.

He stood back up his black eyes blazing along with Clary's green ones. She was left in her black, satin bra and panties. He wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her up, now craning his neck to kiss her. She wrapped her legs around his muscled torso as he carried her to the bed. He laid her down with him on top.

They were both panting, inhaling each other's breaths. Jonathon went down to her neck again and she reached her hands down to his jean button. Jonathon helped her by ripping them off once the button was released and he was in nothing but his boxers and she nothing but her panties and bra.

They stopped for a moment; each staring at the other's toned beautiful bodies. Then as if on cue with each other, they had reached desperately for the others' under clothes, tearing them off and discarding them.

Everything from there was a blur to Clary. Pressures and reliefs. Jonathon's hand rubbing her in such a way that she moaned in pleasure. Her returning that rub and Jonathon moaning fiercely into her mouth.

"I love you," she had whispered in his ear while her virginity was still hers. Jonathon had growled like an animal and then pain. Pain immediately overtaken by pleasure, pleasure that swept over her in great waves. Consuming every thought that was not of this moment, this beautiful moment with her brother.

Jonathon slowed and sped up, eliciting every moan and scream of pleasure he could from Clary and her meeting him, making him growl and moan and sigh. Just as Clary reached that glorious peak Jonathon had screamed her name, already dropped off the edge and she followed, screaming his name as they both collapsed. Sweat glistening on their skin as Jonathon laid his head on her chest with her fingers tangled in his hair, his arms wrapped around her hot back.

As they had lain panting on the bed, Clary had laughed, her first genuine laugh in ages and Jonathon joined her. Then they had crawled under the sheets, and kissed and played and moaned until they both dropped to the side of the bed utterly exhausted.

Clary turned her head to smile at her brother and he smiled back. "That was… I don't know. Amazing. Gratifying. Fulfilling. Pleasurable. Mind-blowing. It was better than I thought. With you," Clary said as she gazed into her brother's black eyes, still blazing with lust.

"You expected less?" he asks with a smile and rolls himself on top of her, placing his soft mouth on hers. "Dear," he places a kiss on her cheek, "sweet," he puts a kiss on her jaw, "Clarissa," he moves back up to her mouth. "I was expected to excel at all aspects of my life," he says in between kisses and Clary's giggles. "That includes pleasing my sister," he now mumbles into her neck.

Clary flips her brother over so that she is on top, kissing him. "That also means that I exceed at pleasing my brother. My brother the demon."

"That you are the angel to little sister." Clary lie down on top of him and let him kiss her neck as she fell asleep.

Now she leans over and kisses Jonathon as he sleeps. His arm squeezes her side but then loosens as she slides out of bed and pulls on one of Jonathon's shirts. She pads over to the bathroom and shoves open the door. She walks across the cold tile to the mirror and places her hands on the counter, staring at herself in the reflective surface.

She expects to look different, older somehow. She expects to find a weary look in her eyes but she only finds pain and anger. Her red hair is still tied back from when she went out to hunt those demons yesterday. She looks at her neck and chest, more thin white scars trace along her skin from her applying many more runes for mourning, loss, for a broken heart then when she went demon-hunting, precision, balance, strength, agility, speed. She only Marked herself once on her chest, when a ravener demon had stung her right in the sternum, she had quickly drawn a powerful iratze as close to the wound as possible.

She remembers when she and Jonathon were alone in Valentine's apartment and he had stopped her in the doorway, running a hand over her shoulders and telling her to keep the Marks on her arms and legs. She lets a smile creep up at the memory, she'd been so scared then, so vulnerable. She doesn't know how she'd functioned back then, barely able to defend herself.

Her green eyes look shattered from all her heartbreak, it makes them looked like cracked emeralds. She never got the chance to mourn Jace back in New York. She had gone into shock and then friends betrayed her and kicked her out of the Institute. She never finished grieving her mother or Luke or Simon. She never had the chance to so she grieves now.

First come the silent tears, trickling down her face in little streams to land on the tops of her hands. They're hot and big and land on the counter with a plop. Then come the tremors, raking through her body, making it unsteady. She shakes until she can't stand anymore so she sinks to the ground. Then the sobs, she gasps for air as the tears come more heavily and soak her shirtfront.

She says each of their names and waits in between each word so every person she loved, she mourns over separately. "Mom," she says quietly and cries for her wishing she were here to give her guidance and love. "Luke," her only father who ever cared for her. "Simon," her best friend who loved her dearly, who was given immortality but had it stripped away because of her placing the Mark of Cain on him. Finally she whispers, "Jace," and a fresh round of tears burst from her eyes. She never got to say goodbye, never got to see his golden eyes alight again, or feel his touch caress her face as his velvety lips met hers and they embraced each other for minutes.

She doesn't know when but Jonathon has come in and sits next to her in his boxers. He reaches out and pulls Clary into his lap, gently stroking her face and hair. He kisses her forehead and temple, her cheeks and jaw. He hugs her tightly until she is gasping for air, having sobbed too hard and too long.

"Shh," Jonathon says, "Calm down. Breathe with me, slowly."

He takes a deep breath and Clary follows suit until her gasps and sobs and tremors stop, with nothing left but hot tears that don't seem to want to stop. She turns around and wraps her legs around Jonathon's waist, hugging him tightly. She buries her face in his neck and he brings up a hand to the back of her neck to hold her head.

"They're all gone Jonathon. They're gone. They're gone," Clary whispers.

"I know my angel but you have me now and I will never leave like they did. I will never turn on you; you will have me forever and always. I will protect you for an eternity," Jonathon says sweetly.

Clary pulls back and looks into Jonathon's endless black eyes. "And I you brother," she says and kisses him slowly, sweetly, drawing it out as if it's her last kiss. He presses his body into hers and she wraps her arms around the back of his neck. He presses his hand to the small of her back and deepens the kiss.

Clary pulls back and Jonathon moves to her neck and kisses the tender skin of her pulse point. "Thank you," she whispers.

Jonathon smiles against her neck. "May I ask for what?"

"For saving me, loving me, being here for me."

"Hmm, your welcome, sweet sister. I wouldn't let my little sister be alone. And you know what else? I need you, we need each other, to balance each other and you," he nips at her neck making Clary giggle softly, "Are the key to their down fall."

"We'll see," Clary says, her eyes closed and face turned toward the ceiling, letting Jonathon ravish her neck and chest.

"Oh really," Jonathon says as he swings her up off the ground. She shrieks and clings to Jonathon as he carries her back over to the bed. "I could always make you," he whispers as he hikes up her shirt, running his hands over her torso.

"But you don't want to, so you're not going to," she says as she rolls him over and kisses him one last time before leaving him lying on the bed staring at the ceiling, open mouthed.

"Come on," Jonathon whines. Clary laughs and walks over to the closet. She pulls open the sliding black and white screen to Jonathon's closet, lined with his clothes, suits, jeans, bomber jackets, sweat pants, sneakers, loafers, sweaters, shirts and all in Jonathon's color scheme. Black, white, grey, dark blue and neutral purple.

She pulls on a pair of Jonathon's jeans and grabs a belt to cinch it tightly around her waist so they don't fall down. Jonathon comes up behind her and hugs her, kissing her neck. "Don't you want your own jeans? I have smaller pair in my drawer."

"Well go get them then," she says. Jonathon undoes her belt and slips it off. "Jonathon," she cautions. He slides them down her legs kissing her thighs as he bends down on one knee then throws her over his shoulder making Clary shriek in surprise. He carries her to the dresser on the other side of the giant walk in closet. He sets her down on a cushioned bench in front of a dresser.

Jonathon rummages around in one of the drawers until he pulls out of pair of brand new designer jeans. "A smaller pair huh? More looks like you went shopping for a new wardrobe for me."

"No one said I didn't," Jonathon says.

"Somehow I find it hard to imagine you shopping in a women's clothing store," Clary says as Jonathon leans down and kisses her, placing the jeans in her hands.

"I don't do it myself; I have the castle attendants do it." Jonathon stands and walks out of the closet.

"Where do you even get the money?" Clary calls from the closet once she's pulled on her jeans. She walks into the bedroom only to be ambushed by now a fully clothed Jonathon.

"Ahh," Clary screeches as Jonathon picks her up and spins her around. "Why are you so happy?" she says as Jonathon sets her down and kisses her enthusiastically.

"Because I finally have my sister back. I'm finally not alone and I'm going to enjoy every moment of it as if you were about to run away." Jonathon sets her down and looks into Clary's eyes.

She looks back and says, "I have nothing to run to Jonathon, you're my home now." She pulls back and turns toward the door, walking out into the high ceilinged hall with thick dark blue carpeting. "Now if you don't mind I'm going to try and find the kitchen because I'm starving."

She pushes through a swinging door into a gourmet kitchen with white marble counters, black stainless steel appliances, and a marble bar with stools lining it. A raised balcony with sliding glass doors looks out on a churning blue sea and a glass table with lounge chairs sits to the side of balcony.

"Modern," she says opening the fridge door while Jonathon walks in.

"Only the best for my angel," Jonathon says sliding onto a bar stool and watches as Clary pulls out some eggs and precooked rice and sprinkle cheese. "You know how to cook now?"

Clary casts an irked look at Jonathon, "I did live on my own for a month and a half after my boyfriend, mother, Luke and best friend died and then was kicked out of the Institute. So yes, a girl has to know these things to live alone."

Jonathon says nothing as Clary digs around for a pan and places it on the stovetop then cracks a few eggs in the skillet, adding in the rice. She can feel Jonathon's eyes bore into her back as she stirs the eggs around until they're scrambled. She opens multiple cabinets until she finds clear glass plates and pulls out two. She dishes up two servings off eggs and puts sprinkle cheese on them.

She places one in front of Jonathon who sits intently at the counter watching Clary's every move. She bends over the counter and places an elbow on the tabletop, eating her eggs and looking back at Jonathon.

"So what now?" she asks as Jonathon eats his eggs.

"A ball, a meeting, a war," he says finishing his eggs and taking both their dishes to the sink.

Clary groans in disgust and leans her head on the counter. "Why a ball? Can't we just get straight to the meeting?" she whines. She hates balls, or any events that require the donning of a dress.

"Because our acolytes need to know that Valentine's children are together and ready to bring down the Clave," Jonathon says coming up behind her and kissing her neck.

Clary isn't sure if she should support Jonathon in taking down the Clave. She doesn't see why he needs to. Yes, the Clave is not the best government but that doesn't mean you have to throw the world into ensuing chaos over it, causing war and multiple casualties and deaths. Clary decides to keep this opinion to herself because the wound the Lightwoods caused and her loved ones' deaths is still too fresh. She doesn't need to argue with Jonathon right now and ruin her good mood.

She turns around to kiss Jonathon who hugs her close to his body. She kisses his neck once then pulls back and looks into his black eyes. "And when is this ball?"

"In an hour or so," he says as Clary walks out onto the balcony and settles herself in a lounge chair looking out at the ocean. Jonathon seats himself down in the neighboring lounge chair and stares at the churning blue ocean with his sister.

"What if I don't feel like going to a ball?"

"I could always make you," Jonathon whispers.

Clary turns on her brother with an incredulous look. "I would like to see you try."

Jonathon shrugs then moves in a blur of white blond. He quickly scoops her up and swings her over his shoulder. "Jonathon! Put me down!"

"Sorry little sister but you're going to the ball whether you like it or not. I know you still hold hatred for me even if you have given yourself to me so you're not going to comply with everything but I can still make you go to a ball until you settle in," he says carrying her back to the bedroom.

He places her back on the couch in the closet and opens a mirrored door to a rack of ball gowns, most narrow and thin which will show off her figure. He leans against the frame and smiles at Clary.

She eyes him warily. "Pick anyone you like just know if you don't I'll pick one for you and force you into it. That won't be pretty for you."

Here is the brother Clary remembers. Commanding and temperamental. She'll have to learn to caution herself around him if she's going to live with him. She doesn't think she'll have a problem though; she has a good idea on how to manipulate him. She can be just as fierce and cunning as he can.

Clary leans back on the couch and says, "The black one."

Jonathon smiles and pulls out a strapless, black, satin dress that shimmers with every movement. "Good choice little sister. Now am I going to have to force you into it or are you a big girl and can do it yourself?"

Clary laughs slightly and takes the dress from Jonathon. "Get out," she says shoving him out the closet door. She leans back and eyes the dress with disgust. She sighs and says to no one, "I guess I should put you on."