Los Angeles Institute, 2011
"By the Angel, Emma," Arthur sighed, carrying her into the Institute, "what are we going to do with you?" It had been three years since he had moved to California and taken her in with the other Blackthorns. She was going to be an amazing Shadowhunter, but she was as reckless as she was brave.
Julian was right behind Arthur, staring at his feet as he walked. This wasn't the first time he and Emma had snuck along to help fight a demon, but this was the first time she was hurt. He should've stopped her, told her it was too risky.
He should've been more responsible. Should've been more like Mark.
But then a more logical thought came next: Like you could stop Emma Carstairs if you tried.
He couldn't help chuckling at that. He loved that she couldn't be tied down, that she was a phoenix from the ashes of her parents' deaths, with glowing red and orange wings. He couldn't cage her, and he didn't want to.
He laid her down on a bed in the infirmary, patted Julian's shoulder and left. Perhaps her parabatai's iratzes would be enough to heal her, Arthur'd said on the way there. "And then she'll feel better after a some rest."
He took a depth breath, got out his stele and drew.
The first thing Emma saw when she opened her eyes was Uncle Jem. Her vision was a little blurry, but she could see him smiling at her, and she mustered a smile back.
It had been a few years since he had revealed who he was, and it had been all very confusing. There really wasn't a word for "my great-great-great-great-grandfather had a nephew who became a Silent Brother but now isn't a Silent Brother and comes to see me sometimes to make sure I'm doing okay." Eventually they had decided she would call him Uncle Jem and leave it at that.
"You remind me so much of my parabatai, you know." Jem's voice faltered slightly as he said it. It still hurt, that he'd lost Will.
Emma smiled. "Tell me about him," she murmured as she snuggled under the sheets. They weren't particularly comfortable, kind of scratchy if she was honest, but she was tired, and her brain hammered against her skull, and she felt cozy only in the way that Jem and Tessa made her feel. Like she was with family.
"He was impulsive, defiant, reckless. But he was also sacrificial, brave and heroic. You wouldn't find someone with better intentions, with a bigger heart than Will." He smiled, painfully.
"So are you calling me a fool or a hero, or both?"
"I'm saying that there is a balance. There is a point where recklessness becomes destruction. You need something to hold you in check."
"What holds you in check?" Emma couldn't help but ask. She didn't like being chided usually, but she always listened to Jem.
Jem smiled. "Impulsiveness was balanced out by love. For Will, love of his parabatai, me, and love of an extraordinary woman."
Emma shivered. For a split second she let the thought slip, what if the extraordinary love is for your parabatai? What happens when he marries? Who will keep me in check? Tears stung her eyes, and she turned away from Jem.
She pushed back the lump in her throat. "I'm still so tired. Is it okay if I have some rest?" She heard him murmur a goodbye and leave.
Emma rolled over onto her stomach, and cried for the extraordinary love she could never have into the scratchy pillow.