AN: I'm hoping to write more chapters following on from this, if you guys like it. So let me know what you think, and thank you so much for reading! All characters belong to the wonderful Cassie Clare, This is simply my interpretation of what may have taken place between CoFA and CoLS
Taking her reflection in as she glanced at the mirrored wall, Clary gasped. Her dress was tattered and bloody, her hair matted, and her neck was a gruesome patchwork of dried blood from where Jace's knife had cut her skin. Sighing, she ran her hands through her unruly hair, desperately trying to tame it, and tried to smooth down her dress. It was hopeless. No, there was nothing to be done, and her appearance would definitely do her no favours when trying to reassure him that he wasn't the devil reincarnate.
As the elevator stopped, butterflies formed in Clary's stomach. She had left him in such a fowl mood, not wanting to touch or look at her. She was unsure how to proceed, no longer doubting his love for her, but her ability to pull him away from the black depression he was forcing himself into. She was suddenly afraid that seeing her would push him further into that darkness. Terror gripped her as she considered this and she began to back into the elevator intending to rejoin the others, but she stopped herself. She realised that both of them needed to stop abandoning each other as a means of protection and begin to trust the other to handle themselves. Anger and determination reared inside her and the terror dissolved as quickly as it had gripped her a moment ago. Anger at Jace for punishing himself for events that he was not to blame for, and anger at herself for even thinking of leaving him to deal with that pain alone on this roof top. Holding her head high, she forgot her ruined clothes and deshevilled appearance and walked straight through the door to find, reassure and ultimately help that beautiful, vulnerable boy who never cried.
Alec was huddled in the corner, still wrapped in Magnus' arms when it happened. He felt something pull taught within him and a painful chill spread through his chest, his heart heavy and cold like ice. He was suddenly filled with a terrifying emptiness that even Magnus' touch could not banish. Breaking away, he touched his hand to his parabatai rune, it pulsed once, and then went cold.
He looked up and met Magnus' questioning gaze. 'Something's wrong!" He gasped, sprinting towards the stairwell, not patient enough to wait for the elevator. He heard shouts behind him but did not stop to take in what they were saying. He was too desperate to get to the roof, to get to Jace.
Finally, Alec burst through the heavy door and onto the destroyed rooftop. Shards of ichor and grime coated glass littered the floor and there amongst all the debris sat Clary, head resting on her knees which were tucked under her. She stared blank faced at the glittering lights of the city, her lips moving slightly, murmuring the same word again and again, but Alec couldn't quite make it out.
He tentatively moved toward her, reaching out with one hand.
"Clary," he whispered, softly, so as not to startle her, "Clary, where is he?"
She didn't reply, just sat there with the same vacant expression muttering that same word.
"Clary! Where is he?" He was more frantic now, "Clary, answer me!"
She stood, whirling to face him in one swift, ferocious move, her face contorting into a look of sheer horror and agonising grief.
"GONE!" She screamed, tears leaving glistening tracks on her grimy face, "He took him."
her voice faltered, her face fell and suddenly hysterical and terrifying sobs ripped from her chest. Her hands flew to her face, as if to hide it from him, and she sagged, her knees buckling from underneath her. Alec caught her, and not sure of what else to do, pulled her to him. That cold emptiness resurfaced as he did so, and he know that Clary could feel it too. Tears pricked his eyes as the full weight of her words sank in. Gone, she had cried, He took him. Reality struck him so hard that his legs began to tremble too, and all that kept him from falling to the floor was Clary. Tiny, short-tempered Clary, whom he never really spoke to unless to exchange simple pleasantries. Clary who had been the object of his wrath many times. Clary, who was bound to Jace just as strongly as he was. As he held her, her could finally hear that word she kept repeating. Jace Jace Jace. She said his name like a prayer, like a call to bring him back to her. Jace Jace Jace.
They stood like that for who knows how long, both enduring that raw hollowness in silent companionship, each other's embrace being the only thing that held them together.
