A/N: This is my apology one-shot for taking so long to update A Change of Fate. This story occurs sometime between the end of City of Ashes and City of Glass. It was originally posted as a songfic, but that breaks some site regulations. I'm removing the lyrics from this version, so I'm hoping it still makes sense. If you want to see the original, just PM me and I can send it to you. Thanks guys. :)~Izzi
Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its attributes belong to Cassandra Clare.
Need You Now
Clary Fray lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling of the guest room at Luke's. The once white ceiling was now covered in what looked like swirling black paint, but was actually Marks from her stele. Most were for protection, but some were purely decorative. Her stele lay on her desk, with a spare on a shelf next to her faintly glowing witchlight. "Every Shadowhunter needs their own witchlight." she remembered him saying. It felt like so long ago, but it was only a few weeks. Before it got complicated. Before she couldn't love him anymore.
There were reminders all over the room. A picture of her and Isabelle. Her gear in a pile over by her now unused art supplies. A flyer from Pandemonium. A stack of comics for Max. Two daggers. Her sketchbook, full of Marks and not art. Her well-used copy of The Codex. Her school supplies collecting dust. The very fact that she was in Luke's house, and not the apartment she shared with her mother. The fact that she was alone because her mother was in the hospital, and Luke was with her.
There were even reminders scarred into her arms, used and faded Marks. The black Voyance staring at her like an unblinking eye on the back of her pale, white hand. The bite from the Ravener. Cuts on her hands from training. Ink on her hands from practicing drawing runes in her sketchbook.
Clary was sick of being alone in the quiet and semi-familiar house. She felt unsafe. But Alec was with Magnus, and he didn't like her much anyways. Simon was with his mother, visiting Rebecca at an art exhibit. And Isabelle was out, either hunting demons or on a date, but not picking up her cell phone regardless. And she couldn't call him, call her brother. Her brother who she couldn't get out of her head, couldn't escape the feel of his arms, couldn't escape the press of his lips against hers. Clary dozed off, thinking of how the sun reflected off of his golden hair and how his hand felt in hers. She fell asleep and dreamed of Jonathan Morgenstern.
Jace's room in the Institute was spartan. Four white walls, a bookshelf lining one. A twin bed, made perfectly, a nightstand with a book, his stele and a glass of water. A pile of witchlights sat under his bed, his gear hung on a hook and his personal weapons were placed neatly on the walls.
He sat on the bed, the cold bottle in his hands. He rarely drank, he hated what it did to his reflexes. And hangovers were a bitch, even when staved off by an iratze. His phone lay on the nightstand next to him, and he glanced at it every so often. No one needed him tonight, he knew as he took another shot straight from the bottle. Maryse, Robert and Max were asleep. Alec was out on a "walk" and Izzy was on a date.
The whiskey burned on the way down, and this shot was enough to numb him and let him fall asleep. But as his eyes shut he imagined her there, red hair curling and small arms around his waist. He fell asleep remembering her touch and the taste of her lips. He fell asleep thinking of Clarissa Morgenstern.
It was late, Clary realized. Well past midnight and almost one thirty. Luke must not have woken her when he came home. A quick check proved him to be in his bed, fast asleep.
Back in her room, her witchlight glowed brighter. She went over, looking for something to cover it with, and chanced upon a takeout menu from Taki's. "I'll just be your brother now. That's what you wanted, isn't it?" his voice taunted her. She remembered studying him that day, like an artist, for the first time. But she couldn't capture his face in her sketchbook. It was too animated, in constant motion, and it didn't look the same in two dimensions. Clary could capture the rest of them, Isabelle, Alec, little Max and Simon, but never Jace. Sheets of paper she wasted trying, trying to make a copy of him to keep with her. But she failed, further enforcing the fact that they could never be together.
Her phone buzzed, it was Simon's nightly text, the one she didn't usually get until the morning. Although tonight, there were two. And then three.
SIMON: Hey, Fray. Just got up.
SIMON: Btw, I've decided to call you Fray even if it's not actually your last name
SIMON: I'm also failing at kicking the nocturnal habit.
She could respond, but it wasn't him she wanted to talk to. Clary wandered down to the shop, to the old pay phone in the back. Squinting at the screen in her hands, she dialed the number she couldn't on her phone. It rang twice before he picked up.
"Hello?" her 'brother' asked, "Hello? Is this a telemarketer? At one in the morning? A new low, even for you guys." he finished, before hanging up, his voice bitter and sarcastic and tired and oh-so-very Jace.
A new low. She'd sunken to calling her love from a pay phone in order to hear his voice. She slid to the floor, tears in her eyes. Simon. She'd text him and he could cheer her up, even a little bit.
The loud chiming of his phone woke him with a start. Head pounding, he automatically reached for the dagger under his pillow. Accidentally grabbing the blade, he swore as blood got on his white sheets. He reached for his phone and answered.
"Hello?" he answered, expecting Izzy's voice on the other end. It wouldn't be the first time she needed help getting out of a date. There was no answer."Hello? Is this a telemarketer? At one in the morning? A new low, even for you guys." he finished, truly annoyed now. He hung up the phone, and noticed it was a number from a pay phone. He called Izzy.
"What?" she answered, yawning.
"You didn't just call from a pay phone?"
"Jace, I just got home twenty minutes ago. There aren't any pay phones in the Institute. And before you call him and wake him up, Alec's asleep in his room. Go to bed."
Confused, Jace dropped his phone. Picking it up again, he texted the last person he ever thought he would.
MUNDANE: I'm texting her now.
Jace scrolled through his contacts, and hovered his thumb over her name.
CLARY.
Jace shut his phone off, and rolled over. He knew he was doomed to another sleepless night. And he'd finished the whiskey.
A/N: Hope this still works. It's not as I originally intended. PM me for the original. Thanks again. Love you all :)~Izzi
