Wake Up – Jocelyn's Story
No. This couldn't be happening. Not again. She'd done everything she could, taken all the precautions, distanced herself, almost cutting herself off from the world she'd grown up in. She was content with living like a mundane, a normal human, as long as it had kept Clary safe.
And now he was back, the reason she had left in the first place. As Jocelyn Morgenstern tipped the bottle back, she was glad that her daughter would have Simon to go to, because she herself wouldn't be back for a while.
Valentine was here for her.
And the Mortal Cup, but since she wouldn't be giving that up very easily, he'd find her to be a consolation prize.
But he'd get nothing from her, thanks to the warlock, Ragnor Fell. Jocelyn instantly felt drowsy from the draught, dropping off into a kind of daze; she couldn't walk, talk, or see, but she was conscious and awake inside her mind.
"Jocelyn," she heard him say softly and in triumph. And then he was taking her away in the midst of crashes that were slowly fading the further they got from the apartment.
He had her, and she knew that she wasn't going back anytime soon. She heard some things that she couldn't understand, noises that she couldn't quite place and voices that had been long since heard and not soon forgotten, but she could feel that they were in a moving vehicle. She was thankful that she couldn't see, because she wouldn't have been able to stand looking upon the face of Valentine Morgenstern.
I'm gonna ride this plane
Out of your life again
I wish that I could stay
But you argue
The bed he'd placed her on was soft and comfortable. On it she felt like she was floating. And she was, in and out of what was happening around her. She felt the pricks of needles and the muttered obscenities of several different voices as their attempts to wake her failed – Pangborn, she thought, maybe Blackwell, but most often Valentine was there.
The manacles around her wrists and ankles, though, she could have done without.
More than this I wish
You could have seen my face
In back seat staring out
The window
Valentine would sit and talk to her about everything on his mind. He talked to her of his plans, of their son, and of how much he loved her, though she doubted he truly knew anything near love, and how she had betrayed him by leaving Alicante, fleeing from Idris with 'the werewolf', 'the Downworlder.' Luke. It sickened her to hear him talk of his once parabati, his once friend and perfect fighting partner, in such a degrading way, so detached and unconcerned.
She longed for company besides him. She missed Clary dearly, as well as Simon, whom she had grown so used to seeing. And dear God did she miss Luke. She thought of how he'd sought her out, and wished that he could again.
I'll do anything for you
Kill anyone for you
So leave yourself intact, cause I will be coming back
In a phrase to cut these lips, 'I love you.'
But that was impossible. She wouldn't be able to just go; Valentine would never allow it. She still had the information he needed, and as long as she was alive, so were the chances he thought he had. If she could have, she would have laughed at him as he surmised about 'when' he woke her up. She wanted to let him know how wrong he was, though she assumed he'd never find out about her little secret. Only Madeline knew, and she would never let Valentine have the information he could use to awaken her.
He would come to see her almost every day. He always greeted her so pleasantly and happily, "Good morning." Sometimes he would only stay for minutes at a time, while other times he would sit until his words slowed and were broken by carefully hidden yawns. The light would fade away, and he'd kiss her forehead, whispering, "Goodnight, Jocelyn."
That was one of the times she couldn't bear sleeping anymore; the thought of him coming so close to her revolted her now.
The morning will come
In the press of every kiss; with your head upon my chest
Where I will annoy you
With every waking breath
Until you
Decide to wake up
He would get mad when his attempts to rouse her were unsuccessful, and though he tried to hide it, she always knew. She heard it seep into his voice in a dark undertone, though he spoke carefully.
Time had ceased to make any sense to her. Though the time was probably only days, it felt like months, years, centuries. Is this what it's like for the Downworlders? she wondered. She did not envy them eternal life if that was what it came to.
And when she was almost hopeless, bored by the monotony of the constant routine, she heard something that caught her attention. That morning, Valentine had told her that he was very excited, and the phrasing of his words was very vague.
This noise was hurried, like footsteps, though she'd not heard them while Valentine walked to her. He always approached almost silently, and he had no reason to hurry. But those voices that accompanied them were as familiar to her as her own: Luke and Clary.
She wasn't sure what was happening, and her eyes wouldn't open to make sure, even for a split second, that she hadn't lost it. That she wasn't hallucinating because their absence weighed down upon her every minute, and that she wasn't slowly becoming more depressed, more solemn, more melancholy every second that they were away from her. No, every second that she was away from them.
But the voices were so familiar, and that gasp coming from across the room was so Clary that it hurt Jocelyn to hear it again. No, she convinced herself. There was no way that they could be there, that they could've figured out where Valentine was and found her as well. She didn't know which she'd rather have: her daughter and best friend in danger because they came to rescue her, or be hallucinating, thinking she was hearing them in the room with her while their real selves were alive and well and safe.
The weight that fell upon her in the next moment, though, was physical and shedding tears.
Jocelyn hoped that that wasn't a hallucination, or she'd really lost it.
But she heard Luke talking to Clary. Clary was here, and hugging her. Clary, her beautiful daughter, was hugging her and she lacked the simple motor skills to return the sentiment.
She heard someone else coming, footsteps in the hallway, but more measured and careful than Luke and Clary's had been. She longed to scream at them, to warn them, to keep them safe. That had been the reason that she'd left. But look where that had gotten her.
Pangborn and Blackwell. She recognized the voices, and didn't care for the tone or words they used when they spoke of her, though it wasn't her greatest concern.
Jocelyn was scared for Luke. Even though he was a werewolf, Pangborn and Blackwell had been killing people for far longer and were far more comfortable with it; Luke wasn't comfortable with it at all.
And Clary, she was terrified for. The last time she'd seen Clary, she'd been giving her the news that they were going away, and Clary had stormed out, confused and angry, but still thankfully mundane and safe. She wasn't sure about what Clary knew by this time, but she knew that her daughter was most definitely not safe, not with Valentine's lapdogs in the same room as her. At some point Luke helped her leave the room unscathed, after which he finished off Pangborn and Blackwell. But the words he spoke as he bent down beside her ear, his breath tickling her neck, sent shivers down her spine, reviving the thoughts and feelings she had whenever he was around: "I'll come back for you, Jocelyn. I always do."
I've learned through hope and faith
On the curves around your face
That I'm the one you'll hold
Forever
She still worried, anxious until the moment she heard Luke's voice coming back for her. He couldn't touch the manacles, she'd learned – they were silver – but he had assistance from a boy, one that spoke to Clary with tension in his voice.
They took her back to the mundane world, placing her in a hospital that stuck her in a room with a heart monitor and IV fluids. The mundanes obviously didn't think she'd make it out of her 'coma' alive, and they didn't hesitate to say so. Though there were some days when she wondered if she'd ever really wake up. The drought Fell had given her could only be reversed by a warlock with the Book of the White, and only Fell and Madeleine knew about what she had planned.
Besides, no one expected the Book of the White to be hidden in 'Simple Recipes for Housewives' in the Wayland manor house's library.
If morning never comes
For either one of us
Then this I'll pray to you
Wherever
Jocelyn didn't like the hospital much. The nurses gossiped and cursed colorfully, the doctors came once in a while to give her visitors euphemisms like 'she's not going to make it at this rate.' The beds were stiff and uncomfortable, causing dull aches in her back, in her neck, and her limbs, though she appreciated the lack of chains.
The best part was that Luke was with her always, and Clary would come often as well. They believed that she could still hear them, and they talked to her, telling her of what had happened, and filling in the gaps in her information.
I'll do anything for you
This story is for you
Cause I'd do, anything you want me to
For you
Kill anyone for you
She heard of everything: Clary's discovery of Shadowhunters, her first Marks, and her going up against the Ravenor demon that first night she returned to the apartment. She heard about the Lightwoods, Hodge, and Jace, the latter being the one Clary dwelled on most. She heard what they knew of Valentine's plans, and longed to inform them more so, and learned more with every word that all her precautions to protect her baby girl were for naught. Jocelyn would have frozen with panic or shaken with rage if she'd been able to move instead of just laying there, limp on the bed like a forgotten toy.
She felt forgotten often, late at night when the darkness deepened the black shadows beneath her eyelids, both before and after she'd been free of Valentine. From the way Clary talked about everything and how excited she was, she feared that her daughter would never come back. She wondered how much of Clary would be the daughter she'd raised, and how much of the new Shadowhunter Clary there would be.
So leave yourself intact
Cause I won't be coming back
In a phrase to cut these lips:
'I loved you'
And there was a time when Jocelyn was left alone in the hospital. After some time of constant visits, be it Valentine, Blackwell, Pangborn, Luke, or Clary, they stopped coming. She was given notice, of course. Clary and Luke had told her that Clary would be gone; Luke's tone filled with worry, Clary's filled with awe and excitement. They hadn't told her Luke would be leaving as well.
So Jocelyn lay on the hospital bed, filled with longing and worry when Luke last visited her. He'd come one last time, saying that he would be seeing her daughter off. But afterwards, he said something to her, something that she never thought she'd be lucky enough to hear:
"When I offered to marry you, after you left Idris, I wasn't being charitable. I was being as selfish as I could. I wanted you all to myself, and I still do. I love you, Jocelyn." Then he bent over her, stroking her cheek and placing his lips upon hers for just a moment, a soft message all its own, with no time for words to get in the way.
When he left, she felt a blush in her cheeks. It seemed to be the only thing she was still capable of doing.
Luke and Clary didn't come back though; neither did the boy Clary had brought once, nor Madeleine. She was left with the nurses and doctors. She was scared for them, terrified, and she wanted to be able to go with them, to help them take down Valentine, to take down the demons, her job as a Shadowhunter. When she thought of that, she would have laughed if it was physically possible. She had left the Shadowhunters' world, and when she got pulled back in, she was forced to sit at the sidelines.
The morning will come
In the press of every kiss; with your head upon my chest
Where I will annoy you
With every waking breath
Until you
Decide to wake up
Then, when the morning sun lit up her eyelids faintly pink, she heard someone come into her room. By the sound of the footsteps, it wasn't Luke, Clary, or Madeleine. It was the clicking of dress shoes, maybe a doctor or nurse. The sound was quick, impatient. She figured they were coming to make sure she was still alive.
That is, until she heard the rustle of pages and a familiar chuckle. It was the warlock, but not Fell; no, that voice was distinctly familiar. She'd heard it every two years when she brought Clary to him. It was the High Warlock.
Magnus Bane.
As the pages settled, a sound like fire started up, though she knew no flames were in the room. It was a language that the warlock had used before for spells, and within moments, she felt a warm, tingly feeling spreading through her from her heart. It felt a little like pins and needles, and Jocelyn Morgenstern made the first move she had in weeks.
Her eyelids fluttered open, and she flinched at the light from the windows. The warlock was shimmering, not only from the glitter he was covered in, but from the blue sparks that adorned his figure. He was grinning, and when he saw her open eyes, he spoke. "Sleeping Beauty finally awakens! It's about time." He paused, the grin slipping a little. "You do realize that your daughter may be the reason for the best and worst things going on at the moment?"
Jocelyn pulled her arms towards her, wincing at the feel of the blood flow increasing, and sat up. "Why do you think I'm here, Bane?" She whispered, her voice raspy and dry from disuse. She cleared her throat, noticing how her hand flew up to her neck, glad to be mobile again.
His grin widened again, and he held out a hand to help her up. "Everyone's waiting for us. Shall we?"
Jocelyn swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood with Magnus's help. "Let's go."
Because of her daughter's newfound strength, Jocelyn was able to walk again, to talk and to fight, to join her sisters and brothers under Raziel. Because of her daughter's newfound strength, she had finally woken up.
The morning will come
In the press of every kiss; with your head upon my chest
Where I will annoy you
With every waking breath
Until you
Decide to wake up
Until you
Decide to
Wake Up
Wow, dunno where that came from but it turned out way better than I expected!
I've been on a TMI writing trip, and finally got around to this and another idea that I've been playing around with. I finally got to writing it, so I decided to post it here!
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