Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all characters except Max belong to Miss Cassandra Clare, sadly! :)
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It was noisy. Cars honking down below on the street, drunks clamoring in the dark alleys, sirens wailing in the distance; New York was always noisy. Despite it being 2 am in the morning, now is no exception. Although, having been born and raised here, the constant buzz of noise did not wake Clarissa Herondale.
In the pitch blackness of her bedroom, Clary strained her ears, listening for anything that could pinpoint the cause of her wakeful state. For awhile, she could not hear anything aside from Jace's quiet breathing. Then just as the silence was lulling her back to sleep, she heard it.
Thump
Instinct had her on her feet weilding her daggers in seconds. She was about to wake Jace when she heard a quiet sniffle and a teary voice utter,
"Mama?"
Clary huffed a quiet laugh to herself. It shows just how much Jace has rubbed off on her that she suspects every thump to be caused ny demons, instead of her 3 year old son, Max. She dropped her daggers and started looking around her room for her robe, having no idea where her husband threw it, just a few hours ago. Speaking of the Golden Boy, she glanced in Jace's direction and found that he was still sound asleep. For a person who prides himself of being the best shadowhunter ever, he can sleep through almost anything.
Thump
Suddenly remembering the task at hand, Clary grabbed the first article of clothing she saw-Jace's shirt. She slipped it on, chuckling at how her petite frame drowned in it. Even at 24, she was still barely 5'3, much to her chagrin. Snapping out of her reverie, Clary approached her door and opened it.
As expected, her son Max sat on the floor behind the door. Even with rosy cheeks and tears streaming down his face, she couldn't help but marvel at how cute her son looks. Though the golden hair and the smirk he favours is all Jace, you couldn't deny that the sparkling emerald eyes he possesses were hers.
Leaning down, she scooped her son up into her arms, Max immediately wrapped his tiny arms around her neck and buried his face into the her shoulder. Clary walked the few steps to his bedroom, before asking her son why he was crying.
"Demons under my bed, Mama." He said, sniffling.
Angel knows how Jace would go on a rampage had there really been a demon under his son's bed. Surprisingly, it was Jace who was the overly protective parent between the two of them. Cuddling her son closer to her, Clary began lightly patting her son's back.
"There are no demons under your bed, Max, we're safe here, remember? No demons can enter the institute. There's no need to be afraid, baby.
Clary finally entered her son's bedroom, taking in the light baby blue walls and the beautiful night sky she painted on his ceiling. She laid the young shadowhunter down on his cot, wiping away his tears. Clary lay down beside him, her frame barely fitting in the small bed. Lightly carding her fingers through Max's hair, she can hear the boy's sobs quieting down, can hear his breathing even out.
"Mama?"
"Yes, Max?"
"Sing for me?" His eyes were already drooping.
"Okay, darling.
Black for hunting through the night
For death and mourning, the color's white.
Gold for a bride in her wedding gown,
And red to call enchantment down.
White silk when our bodies burn,
Blue banners when the lost return.
Flame for the birth of a Nephilim,
And to wash away our sins.
Gray for knowledge best untold,
Bone for those who don't grow old.
Saffron lights the victory march,
Green will mend our broken hearts.
Silver for the demon towers,
And bronze to summon wicked powers."
"Satisfied with her son's heavy breathing, Clary slowly got out of his small cot and padded her way back to her room, and chuckled at the sight she met. Jace's arms were spread out on her side of the bed and his face was drawn into a pout. Obviously, he had noticed her absence. She removed Jace's shirt and and gently lied back down. Strong arms immediately encircled her small waist.
"Where'd you go?" His words were muffled by Clary's hair.
"Max was crying." She said, turning around to lay her head on Jace's chest.
"Mmm. Max. I like Max."
Chuckling at her husband's lexicon, she replied. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Like kids. Have 'nother one? Could start practicing."
Nevermind the fact that they had sex mere hours ago, and it was 3 in the morning, Jace is still as addicted to sex as ever. Laughing, she supposed now was as good a time as any.
"Don't need to, I'm already pregnant."
In the silence of their bedroom, you could hear the thump from where Jace rolled off the bed in surprise.
Yeah, life was good.