Disclaimer: We don't own. Belongs to Eric Kripke & co and Cassandra Clare.
Warnings: For the entire fic, it's T or higher. The violence is a bit higher than the average episode and possibly the books. Language is somewhat stronger. There are pairings of slash and het, mostly slow-build. Character death, Dub-Con, racism, and possibly other trigger-y things. Chapters with content like that will have specific warnings.
AN: This was originally are collab fic with MissStud but we lost contact with each other and I decided I wanted to keep writing. So this one's for you hon. This will be updated bi-monthly. Hope this will tide everyone over from the hangover hiatus. Enjoy!
Word count: 8,738
Chapter 1: In which everyone meets.
-TMISPN-
In the high rise tower, only two people were inside. One was kneeling on the floor sweating with effort. It or rather, he was a warlock. He was laboriously etching into the expensive marble floor. The second was a man. He stared out the glass windows that surrounded the entire room. Whether he was looking at the skyline or his own reflection was anyone's guess. He stood absolutely motionless and his reflection revealed his impatience.
"Hurry up. I did not pay for slowness."
"Hey this is hard to cut through. I'll be done in a minute."
The warlock boy named Elias shrugged off his jacket to let his wings breathe. They fidgeted briefly and the man's lip curled in disgust. He ran a large hand through silvered hair as he watched Elias finish the pentagram and begin chanting. The Warlock language was offensive to the man's ears, but he tolerated it and waited until the ritual was finished.
Smoke rose up from the circle, dark and ominous. It was beginning to take form, thickening in substance. Its weight came from what it was: an ancient and powerful thing, defying what was natural, but it was so old that it was natural. It was something deeply ingrained in humanity for as long as anyone could remember. The smoke had eyes; they were covering its body and they were narrowed in cruelty.
"Who has called me?"
"I did. You are in my circle and you have to do what I tell you." the boy said.
"…Oh?"
An undulating pillar of smoke shot out of the circle. It went straight for the warlock. Elias let out a bleat of terror before chanting in a small voice. The demon let out a laugh. A laugh that sounded like a thousand dead men and scraping bone and crumbling cities. It launched itself on top of the boy, whose screams were muffled by the weight. It bubbled over in excitement and it was over as quickly as it began. It slid off the boy, who was no longer a boy but a crumpled mass on the floor. Surprisingly, his body was left unbloodied. The demon turned to the man, violence on its mind. It gave a wheezy chuckle; it was just as worse as its laugh.
"You know who I am?"
"Of course. It is good to meet you, Agramon." The man's voice was smooth.
"I killed your little summoner."
"I'm not surprised."
"You let him die; knowing his pathetic circle couldn't hold me?" It seemed to purr. "How devious."
The man shrugged delicately, almost demurely; an amazing feat for someone so broad shouldered.
"His greatest fear was that he wouldn't be able to hold you once you were summoned. It was well founded."
"What do I address you as….my Lord…?" Agramon rumbled in mock deference.
"Valentine."
"What a lovely name." a new voice appeared.
Valentine slowly turned to face the speaker, a blade at the ready. Agramon growled deep, low, and…softly. The demon bristled, body rippling and its eyes blinked. It was almost as if the demon of fear was afraid. Valentine felt a strange thrill go through him.
"Well then, just who are you?"
Instead of the stranger answering, it was Agramon. "Lucifer."
Valentine felt his body stiffen, his face trying to work out the proper expression. Hostility rose in him, but a smaller voice inside him urged caution. Something said this man was different, despite looking like an average mundane. Valentine raised his weapon a little higher and fixed the stranger with a stare that could freeze oceans.
"Agramon." Valentine gestured for quick, imminent violence.
The Greater Demon hesitated. The man calling himself Lucifer smiled. It was a calm chilling smile. The kind worn by those who are amused by conflict and certain that they are the cause of it. It was a smile that had seen through many wars and much pain.
Valentine watched as the man cocked his head, a curiously bird-like gesture, before sweeping his hand through the air. Agramon made an odd gurgling sound, like a dog being strangled. The demon halted, its black mass quivering.
"It has been quite a while hasn't it?" the stranger's voice made it sound as though they were merely discussing the weather. "When last we met, you were at the point of my sword."
"…Release me." Agramon managed to growl.
The stranger turned to Valentine, a lazy contempt in his eyes.
"Is that alright with you?" he asked, with icy patronization.
"…As you like." Valentine shrugged.
The stranger made another sweeping gesture and Agramon seemed to crumple to the ground. The demon's eyes seethed with hate, but it slunk back into the circle, and made no more movement. The stranger turned to Valentine and smiled. Valentine straightened and there might have been a spark of pride in his eyes.
"Most impressive. I would like to…ascertain if you really are-"
The stranger merely smiled, blue eyes looking coldly back at him; he knew his words had angered the creature, but suddenly, somehow he played with the shadows on the walls. The air became cold and Valentine exhaled sharply, seeing his own breath ghosting through the room. It became an oppressive atmosphere, the room seemingly shrinking; Valentine never felt claustrophobic before, but he felt so minuscule, like a flea floating by itself in the universe.
The room was freezing, enough so that ice began to coat the glass around them, incasing the entire room like a sheet. Valentine shivered, but the air shimmered as though there was a heat wave and Valentine squinted his eyes. He felt his heart hammer painfully in his chest, as if his ribs were being crushed by an iron vice. He could have sworn that some blood vessels in his eyes had burst. Still he couldn't, didn't want to look away.
It was there before him: glorious bright wings that held a touch of, not quite decay, but something frightening. A rotted star. It was like the deep crushing pull of the ocean. Something grotesque, but still managing to look beautiful, as if the decay itself was a prime example of the ruthlessness of nature. Valentine could not take his eyes off them, but it was unbearable.
It was him. The Morning Star.
A sudden thought occurred to him. They shared the same name, the same blood to an extent. That was why he could-was worthy enough to look at an angel and not be destroyed. He felt a delicious shiver go through him.
"Yes."
Valentine jumped. His mind was being read.
"You really are him…?"
"Yes. But I think you know that." Lucifer's expression became smooth and soft.
Valentine watched, amazed as the wings were folded back to wherever they had come from, and the thick menacing aura dissipated. For some reason, he couldn't find himself becoming comfortable in Lucifer's presence. However, there was something about him that made Valentine want to follow him, leap into an abyss for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if this was how it must have felt for his old members in The Circle. He didn't know if he'd like to relinquish his own hold of control, but Lucifer was speaking to him…
"I can tell you about Raziel."
-TMISPN-
At the same time during that night, many blocks away something else of importance was going on. At the bar called the Hunter's Moon, a fight was taking place. Inside, the patrons were snarling and swinging punches at a laughing boy. That was boy was Jace Lightwood.
-TMISPN-
That night, Clary dreamed. Dreamed in vivid, cinematic detail. She saw Jace with wings. He was standing tall, a sword gleaming tightly in his hand; it didn't look like a seraph blade, but it hummed with power, and even though he struggled to hold it up, he looked every bit an avenging angel.
Images blended smoothly into one another as Jace's face twisted briefly to become Valentine's, who stared down terrifying points of light with an equally terrifying expression. She knew the light was familiar, becoming as known as the angel rising out of icy dark water. The surface of her subconscious rippled, revealing a shattered mirror, each glittering shard had a scene painted on them, and they all rained down on her.
She threw up her hands to keep them from hurting her face, but it was no good; it didn't prevent her from seeing the images.
Three figures standing tall with weapons at the ready, but she couldn't see the enemy they were facing.
Two women with red hair were embracing, and at first she thought it was her mother and herself, but it wasn't and even though one of them wore her face, she knew it wasn't her.
Then, it was Simon. He was bleeding in several places, bright blood spilling onto the floor, and he was being held upright by Jace. Jace, whose white gold hair rang like a halo against Simon's jet black coloring. They were pressed so close together that they could have been brothers.
Two men. One was kneeling to the other, and he had large black wings, his face turned upwards. The standing man had no wings and a burning hand print on his arm. The air seemed to shimmer around them like a powerful heat wave.
Four gleaming rings dangled on a cliff, colors crashing against her eyelids and she was filled with dread.
She was starting at Isabelle, her gold whip gleamed and it bound them together like a corset. Isabelle's fingers ran through her hair like a blessing.
Clary looked up at the sky. Runes were carved into it as though it were made, not of air, but glass. Shapes undulated behind the runes and then she saw them and knew they were angels.
She knew instinctively that was what they were. Her eyes burned just by looking at them, but it was worth it. They were magnificent and terrible. Power and grace radiating through them, brilliant points of light and shape. They moved with the feral symmetry of wild horses in motion. She felt a violent, sudden longing to go to them and stay there. It was all together familiar and alien.
Then, a pair of eyes turned to regard her, and she suddenly it was a thousand, a million eyes were upon her. Voices pierced her ears and she could almost understand them, almost as though they were merely on a different frequency that she was used to. She knew with a terrible finality that there was no way of connecting with them. She wanted to scream-
"Clary!"
Somewhere was shaking her awake. It was Simon, she realized. He was bent over her, glasses eschewed, and his dark eyes were large and concerned.
"You were shouting in your sleep."
"Oh sorry. I was dreaming."
"Helluva dream."
"Yeah."
Clary let the fog of heavy, but interrupted sleep slowly leave her brain. As the after image-like feeling of a strange dream began to leave her, she had a nagging feeling that she should sketch the images that were quickly leaving her mind.
The normalcy of Simon's couch, discs of anime, and the smell of old pizza was putting Clary at ease. It was easy to just dismiss the jumble of alarming images as the after effect of too much stress. Clary felt her joints stretch and pop.
"What time is it?"
"A bit after one." Simon smiled at her. "I thought you were gonna sleep all day."
"I could have." Clary mumbled.
She rubbed her eyes and the need for caffeine gave her a gravitational pull to the kitchen. Simon was just a pace behind her, walking so close that her heart automatically sped up. The night before, Clary had fallen asleep on Simon's couch, exhausted after visiting her brother. Her…brother Jace had somehow managed to get himself in trouble again last night when he picked a fight with a bunch of werewolves in a Downworlder bar. Not that that in itself surprised her; Jace would pick a fight with the Chrysler building if he felt like it. He was just so…something seemed off. A loud clink of cups on countertop forced her out of her thoughts. She shook her head irritably.
'So what. Jace is his own person. I don't have the right to tell him what to do…'
Clary bit her lip, and tried to concentrate on what was in front of her. Simon was filling their mugs; he looked oddly pale.
"So…You up for some fun?"
"What you have in mind?"
Simon's eyes lit up, and his boyish enthusiasm reminded her of when they were kids and Clary felt a sudden longing.
"Well there is this new convention, and Carver Edlund is doing a book signing!"
"Ok."
Clary was determined not to think about Jace.
-TMISPN-
"Awww fuck me."
"I'm not your type."
"Why are we here again?"
"You know why. There is some pretty weird stuff going on in the area."
"Yeah yeah."
Two doors slammed out of unison as two men began to walk up the street. Sam and Dean Winchester made their way to a new job.
-TMISPN-
At that moment, two things began to happen as the Winchester brothers walked into a building with a large sign up front.
The first thing was that three other young people were about to do their jobs as well, and the next thing was that somewhere out there, a tagalong angel had a foreboding feeling.
-TMISPN-
Clary watched as Simon tried to contain his excitement, and she grinned. After what happened at Renwick's they could all use a break. Simon was doing this mainly to cheer her up. She melted, and felt a wave of tenderness wash over her. She blinked in surprised; that was strange, but she scooted closer to Simon anyway. She could smell his aftershave.
"Hey, do you think we should have-" Simon gestured to the crowds with a wave of his hand.
Clary looked as cosplayers milled around, and she almost laughed. A bunch of men were wearing flannel, which reminded her of Luke and some had leather jackets. None of them looked as though they knew what anime might be, but she could be wrong, you never knew.
"Just looks like a bunch of guys, what would I be?" she asked as a scarecrow man walked past them.
"Well…something like that…?" Simon trailed off.
"Quite the selection."
"Shut up." he laughed.
-TMISPN-
Dean wanted to go back to Hell. Or maybe he had somehow gotten pulled back under.
"Urrgh."
He was pretty sure he heard Sam make a similar noise; he's glad there is something they could still agree on.
"What. The. Hell."
"I know, shut up."
Together, but really Dean felt strangely alone in a sea of leather jackets. He was surrounded by "Dean's" and "Sam's." Of all the places to find a job, it had to be one of these weirdo fan clubs.
"You're sure this is the place?"
Sam nodded, apparently too traumatized to speak; Dean didn't blame him. He almost flinched when an all too familiar scarecrow brushed past. Ugh.
"Let's get this over with." Dean grunted.
-TMISPN-
Something was wrong. Air currents lifted him up as anger surged through him. Something was about to be rectified.
-TMISPN-
Old stairs creaked of their own accord. Dust floated in the air. Jace let his trained eyes find the darkened places. Beside him, were two of his fellow warriors, Alec and Isabelle.
A low rumbling growl suddenly reverberated throughout the building. Jace tensed, he was a coil about to spring. He felt himself bare his teeth in rabid excitement. Jace could see Isabelle tremble with energy, and with a sudden flick of her wrist, wire-thin gold shot out into the shadow filled rubble.
A pain stricken shriek echoed off the walls, and the three leapt into action. Long serrated claws swiped the air, and Jace ducked low. Isabelle gave a fierce war cry, and her whip flung upwards, and a thin shoot of blood spurted out. It roared in pain and charged. An arrow struck it in the face, stopping the demon short.
"Be more careful!" shouted Alec.
"Lighten up!" Isabelle shouted back.
Jace whirled the blade in his hand, feeling the heady thrum of the fight. He rushed forward, and brought the edge of the blade to the side of the demon's underbelly. It was a weak spot where there were no scales, and he rolled himself beneath the creature. Its fetid bulk nearly crushing and he could tell Isabelle had rushed into the fray.
Gripping the handle of the knife, he slammed it into the belly. Its screams of pain reverberated throughout Jace's body and its blood drenched him. It suffocated him and he choked back his bile. Jace lifted the knife and plunged it into its belly again. It screamed and reared itself up. Jace sucked in a lungful of air, like a deep sea diver freeing itself from an octopus.
"Jace!"
Before he could move, a large clawed appendage batted him into the air. Alec and Isabelle yelled; gold whip slicing the clawed hand off and it fell to the ground. More arrows sunk into the demon's side. It shook itself roughly as Jace landed on the ground.
Jace crouched low, eyes signally Alec to shoot at the right moment. The three began to move in unison, ready to surround it. It growled, deep in its throat. Jace's fingers curled around his weapon, and he could have sworn he heard himself growl too.
-TMISPN-
Dean made his way through the crowd. Getting the info they needed was a pain in the ass; he hated these crazy fans.
"Hey, I think I saw a Bobby." Sam pointed.
"Oh God kill me." Dean growled.
Stupid little brothers. He tried to gather enough momentum to escape the press of the crowd. They were almost done here…
"Ah…testing." a hesitant voice warbled.
A sudden cheer went up and the energy of the crowd intensified.
"Ah…um. Yeah thanks."
Dean recognized the voice. It was Chuck. He could just picture the man now: his eyes would be darting every which way and they'd be so shadowed that he always looked like he hadn't slept for a decade. His hair would be a total mess, and his clothes rumpled.
It was almost hard to believe that the timid pulp fiction writer was actually a Prophet of the Lord. Dean could get a clear view of him now, and the smaller man hadn't changed since he last saw him. Right now, Chuck was clutching a microphone as if it were a lifeline.
"Um. Hi, I'm Carver Edlund. But…you all probably knew that. I write the Supernatural books."
Another cheer rose up, and Chuck smiled nervously. Dean felt for the guy. He tuned out the questions that the fans were asking, and turned around to grab Sam. Now that they knew who was haunting the place, they could get to the torching bit of their job. Wait. Dean looked around. No Sam. He gritted his teeth. Perfect.
-TMISPN-
Clary wriggled to get more room. Being pressed this close to Simon was comforting, but she felt a pins and needles sensation, almost like a strange aftertaste. Simon was practically buzzing with energy, and he felt like a furnace. She pushed a strand of hair away from her face; with this crowd it was heating up fast.
She listened to the fans questions with some amusement and was amazed at their thoroughness. From what little she read (from Simon's collection), she thought she couldn't get into it, but then she met Jace and then…
Her ears perked at the next question. A few fans brought up a passionate case that the two main characters, a pair of brothers-were actually in love with each other. The words "homoerotic." and "subtext." kept floating around, and their adamancy surprised Clary.
'Wish someone would fight for me like that.'
Clary actually gasped out loud as the thought came unbidden. She almost doubled over; a sudden sucker punch had left her completely winded. Clary shivered despite the warm air. The pins and needles feeling had intensified, and brought on a sudden dizziness between her thighs. She flushed with mortification.
Suddenly, she needed to get out of there. Clary shoved past people, not caring that they gave her dark looks as she went past. She walked on for what seemed like forever; her head spinning. Clary found a set of doors and struggled to push them open. She stumbled inside and sank into a chair. Her breath was coming out in rapid gasps, and Clary felt an irrational surge of anger at a pair of make believe people.
A small part of her mind told her to calm down. When her breathing finally eased, Clary could see her icy breath.
-TMISPN-
Dean finally spotted Sam and he rolled his eyes. That Becky girl had somehow wrangled his brother into a conversation. Dean felt a vindictive grin on his face; misery loves company.
"Sam!" he shouted.
Becky's eyes widened and Dean just gave her the barest of nods.
"Been lookin' for you everywhere."
Dean yanked Sam with such force, that if this had been a cartoon, Sam's feet would have been lifted clear off the ground. Sam only managed to get a glimpse of a dark haired boy asking Chuck for an autograph.
"Dude." Dean growled yet again.
"Sorry, she blindsided me." Sam shuddered.
Dean shook his head. The two strode past a set of doors when a sudden noise came to life.
"EMF?"
Dean pulled the small black object from his pocket. It was lit up, meter dashing back and forth. A sudden shout came from behind the doors and the two exchanged a look before kicking open the doors.
-TMISPN-
The demon had pinned Isabelle with its tail, which was bleeding in several places. Alec's arrows littered the soft parts of the demon. Ichor made the ground slippery, soaking the already dirty carpet. Jace could hear Alec panting with exertion; he had finally run out of long range weaponry and had to jump in to defend the other two.
Jace wiped blood out of his face. His muscles were finally starting to shake with fatigue, and-
It rushed at him. He heard Isabelle shriek his name, and Jace braced himself. The double row of teeth were bearing down on him, and he wouldn't be able to dodge in time-
Something brushed his cheek. It was soft and sharp at the same time, and it was so brief he probably imagined it. A frenzied flapping was in front of him, and he blinked rapidly; the air had shimmered in a brief wave. Jace found it hard to breathe, he almost fell over, but someone was standing between him and the demon.
'Alec? No…'
The figure was now solid, tall, and sure of himself. The demon was struggling; the man had one hand clenching the demon's throat, and in the other was a gleaming weapon. Jace shivered. There was something about the cut of the figure.
The man yelled something, plunging the blazing weapon into the demon's throat. It gave a final pain filled cry. It crumpled down onto the ground and slowly disappeared. When the final plumes of smoke rose up, briefly swirled about the figure before fading away, Jace stared. It was a man wearing a tan rumpled trench coat, and he stared at Jace with impossibly blue eyes.
-TMISPN-
Sam and Dean burst into action. Sam put himself in front of a small redheaded girl and Dean rushed to attack the ghost. The ghost of a long since dead maid flung Dean aside, shrieking.
"Sam get the-"
The maid ghost yelled again and made a move to attack Sam, but suddenly the redhead put herself in front of Sam, almost like she was trying to protect him. In her hand was a slender glass stick…thing. She yelled and made some kind of motion with her hand. It did nothing and she look surprised, but again-
"Duck!"
Sam hit the deck, yanking the girl down with him. Dean took the shot and the ghost flickered out. Dean nodded his head to Sam.
"Go."
Sam nodded, giving him a final look before running out the doors. Dean looked at Red and her strange object.
"Who do you think you are, Harry Potter?"
Red flushed, looking away and then her eyes widened. "Look out!"
Dean felt something slam into him. Maid ghost was back and pissed. His shotgun scattered out of his hands; he tried to drown out Red's shouting. He couldn't reach the iron knife he kept hidden, and he was pinned. Maid ghost's hands felt very solid around his neck. There was a sudden thumping noise before the maid ghost gave an unearthly cry before flaming out.
"'Bout time Sammy." Dean rasped.
He looked up in time to see Red stagger. She had lifted up a chair and it looked like she was about to slam it into maid ghost before she had flamed out. Red yelped as she let go of the chair and nearly toppled over herself. Well points for trying. The two looked at each other for a few minutes, not speaking. A sudden tinny chorus of generic rock music played. Red jumped, but Dean was somewhat grateful for the distraction that had come in the form of his phone. He pulled it out and flipped it open.
"Yeah."
"Dean."
His brain cells sputtered into gear.
"Hey. God give you more minutes?"
"Actually-"
"Whatever. What is it?"
"I need you to meet me at this address."
Dean mentally wrote it up, unsurprised to hear the dial tone. He looked back at Red, and gave her a brief smile.
"Later."
He raced out the door to meet Sam.
-TMISPN-
Clary panted, adrenaline still pumping through her veins as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. Of all the things that had happened today, or even the past few weeks, this was the most unexpected. Something told her this was big. Huge. You didn't ignore gut instinct, especially when it was screaming at you. Clary shakily stood up and grabbed her stele.
'They saw it. I didn't even realize I was holding it. I tried to use my stele in front of mundanes!'
Clary shook her head. She didn't know how to use glamour, but she didn't think it would be needed for a stele…but what if they weren't mundanes? The man with the shotgun (did Shadowhunters even use guns? She hadn't seen that before…) only seemed annoyed when she tried to help. Then there was the whole bursting into the room, literally with guns blazing that threw her for a loop. Wouldn't most mundanes be frightened or confused by…whatever tried to attack her?
'Either way, they know something.'
Then there had been that phone call. The only thing she had been able to catch was the address.
"The Institute!" she shouted aloud.
Of course, she should have noticed that sooner. Now suspicious, her brain clicked into gear and she raced out to find Simon. She found him blissed out on a couch and he looked up at her approach.
"There you are. I tried to find you." he held up a scrawled on cover with a grin. "I got my favorite copy signed!"
He must have seen her expression change because he became serious.
"What happened?"
"We've got to go."
She didn't give him time to react beyond standing up. He followed her without complaint. Clary felt a rush of gratitude. A few weeks ago he would have jabbered incessant questions, but now he just hurried up to catch up to her. Opening the doors and stepping outside felt good. The air was invigorating after the overcrowded building. The sky had darkened and the city was just waking up. Clary hailed a cab.
Sliding into the universal and familiar cab interior, she heard Simon slid in behind her. She barely gave him time to shut the door before she was calling out directions, ending with:
"Just follow that black car up ahead."
Simon's eyes widened and the cabby repeated her direction.
Simon nodded. "Yeah that 67' Impala right there." he pointed.
Clary looked at him in surprise.
"Since when do you know cars?"
The cab began to move.
"It's Sam and Dean's car." he leaned toward Clary. "More importantly, why are we following a couple of hardcore cosplayers?"
Hastily, Clary began to tell Simon what happened in the room. His eyes were wide by the time she was finished.
He whistled. "That is pretty hardcore. They killed a spirit."
"How can you-" Clary shook her head. This was a curveball. "Just how is that possible?" she didn't expect an answer.
Now it was Simon's turn to be skeptical.
"You don't believe in ghosts? After all that's happened?"
Clary shrugged. "That's not the point."
It wasn't the ghost bit that threw her off, but the idea that someone could kill a ghost. Wouldn't that be…redundant? Besides, Shadowhunters never talked about them, or did anything close to what those two men did.
"The point?" Simon prompted.
"I heard the Institute's address-or I think I did. So what if they happen to be Shadowhunters? Really weird ones, but-"
"Or it could be like the books!" Simon looked excited.
"Your nerd is showing." Clary sighed impatiently. "Those books aren't real."
Simon didn't bother to press the point, instead he shrugged amiably. "Well those guys think it's real." he gestured to the black car.
Clary nodded absently. Something wasn't right. She perked up as the black car parked in front of them. The cabby said nothing as he pulled up in front of the Institute; he wouldn't be able to see it for what it really was: a magnificent cathedral, instead of an abandoned building. Clary rushed out, leaving Simon to pay the fare.
She walked quickly to the men that had gotten out of their car. She ignored the sound of a speeding cab and the worried intake of Simon's breath behind her. Clary didn't care. She focused on the two men, hearing the shorter one complain about something.
"Well, where is he? Tells us to-"
The taller one nudged his companion, noticing Clary marching up to them.
"Hey."
The two boys, no men, looked at her. She could see something like wariness in their expressions, but Clary wasn't quite sure why and she was strongly reminded of Jace. It made her even more curious, and suspicious.
"Red." the shorter one said in surprise.
Clary tried to gather her thoughts; she didn't want to give herself away, but she wasn't quite sure what to say next.
"What are you…?" She straightened herself up. "What business do you have here?"
Clary tried to sound more like a Shadowhunter; after all maybe that was indeed what they were. Wearing glamour to hide their marks, and deciding to use guns? She could tell they were surprised by her change in tone, and maybe a bit of something else. The shorter one looked like he might have been reaching for something, but the taller one looked at the Institute with confusion. Clary realized with a jolt that he couldn't see what was really in front of him.
"How bout' you mind your own business Red." the shorter man said.
"Clary." she snapped. "My name is Clary."
A twig snapped. Or some small sound exploded and everyone jumped. Well, Simon and Clary did, the two men just started. Figures hurried over to them. Four of them and Clary felt herself relax a bit. It was the Lightwood siblings. Isabelle and Alec were walking with someone sandwiched between them, almost as if he was being flanked. They were close enough now that Clary could read the tension in their shoulders. The man in between them didn't look nearly as agitated. She only registered that fact as something mildly interesting; her friends looked wary enough that a fight might break out. If they were dogs, their hackles would be raised. Clary looked behind them to see who was bringing up the rear, it was-
-TMISPN-
"Jace."
Jace heard his name. Clary's sharp intake of breath sent a little thrill down his spine. He composed himself quickly. She wasn't supposed to be here, and she brought the mundane no less. He hadn't seen her since yesterday, since his little brawl at the lycanthrope dive. It already seemed like a lifetime ago, and that he hadn't seen Clary ever since, but he pushed that hopeless thought away when he saw who she was confronting. Two mundane men. Nothing but trouble, both them and her. He could see they were older, and he felt a smirk on his face.
"Cas! About time. You tell us to be someplace and you don't even show!" the shorter man yelled.
"Apologies'." Said the man in between Alec and Isabelle. "Something diverted my attention."
The shorter man made a face. "Oh. How nice."
Jace didn't like the implications of their conversation, or the fact that Clary was somehow involved. He buried his hammering heart and turned his smirk into a sneer.
"Well Clary, you just can't keep yourself out of trouble huh?" he drawled and gestured to the two men. "They look like a handful. Well…not as much as me, but you'll take what you can get."
The reaction was immediate. Jace inwardly laughed. If he could just get an edge…and take everyone off theirs. He thought he heard Isabelle murmur something. Either it was a scathing "Boys!" or a positive assessment of the two strange men, he didn't know.
If there was one thing he knew he was good at, it was stirring things up. If only there was some kind of sporting event for that sort of thing…the shorter man looked as though he was sizing Jace up, with hard green eyes; he seemed a bit different than most. After finding Clary, Jace no longer thought the phrase:
A mundane is a mundane is a mundane.
He was glad about that because the man had subtly shifted his stance. He was a fighter. Jace would have liked to laugh in his face; a mundane trying to take on a Shadowhunter. That would have been interesting, since it looked like blood might be spilled shortly. He knew he could take him, and Jace felt the sudden desire to feel a knife in his hands.
Jace winked. "Like what you see?"
Green eyes smiled tightly. "Don't flatter yourself wavy gravy, I just gotta talk to my friend." he gestured to the man he called Cas.
It looked like Green eyes saw through his maneuver. Huh.
"Shame." Jace grinned.
"Who is?" Alec put it, voice dripping acid. "Who is he? Identify yourselves!" he barked.
The atmosphere dropped. Jace watched carefully; unlike normal mundanes, they didn't seem stupid or afraid. Jace was willing to bet they even knew how to defend themselves. The two men exchanged small looks. Looks that could contain sentences, paragraphs, or even a whole book. Jace knew because he shared looks like that with Alec and Isabelle all the time. They were sharing one in front of him right now, and those men could see the two were having their own little pow-wow.
So they were all on the same page; this was shaping up to end bloody, especially since it looked like they knew the man in between Alec and Isabelle-this Cas person. He had stepped in and killed a demon with ease, and with a weapon none of them had seen before. Yet he definitely not a Shadowhunter, and there were none of the usual signs of someone who lived Downworld either. He put them on edge, especially when he started telling them how much danger that they had been in, pestering and insisting that he had to come back with them. It was better just to humor him until they figured out what angle he was working, and so far he hadn't made a move to hurt them, but when did that ever reassure Shadowhunters?
"So, this loon belongs to you?" Jace asked.
"You have no idea." Green eyes replied.
The man…Cas gave Green eyes a look; Jace couldn't figure out if the man was confused or annoyed. Before he could find out, he heard Clary make an impatient noise.
"Come on, you guys are Shadowhunters right?" she sounded like she wanted to say more, but cut herself off.
"Are we what?" was said in unison with, "Obviously not." that came from Isabelle.
Jace rolled his eyes at Clary. Alec looked as if he was about to go into a lecture and point out all the ways they weren't. Better nip that in the bud, but Clary beat him to it, looking straight at this Cas person.
"What about you? Are you a Shadowhunter?"
He…Cas looked confused for a moment, tilting his head like a bird, strangely enough. Jace turned to the man to her the answer. He felt more than saw the mundane men were frozen with anxiety.
"No…I am an angel of the Lord." the man intoned.
Silence. No one quite knew what to say to that, but Jace turned to the two men, somehow his subconscious had decided that the mundanes would have an answer. Alec, Clary, and Simon seemed to have the same idea. They turned their eyes to the men. Green eyes looked uncomfortable at the scrutiny, even more so than the taller one. Green eyes slapped a palm to his face, the sound like a gunshot and his shoulders were still rigid. Tall looked fairly horrified and had gritted his teeth.
Jace's intuition was doing odd flip-flops. They had looked like they believed it, that they were thinking just how to cover this up, like Cas had just revealed a big dangerous secret. This had to be nonsense right? Lesser Nephilim might have made some sort of shocked exclamation, but Jace knew a small part of him was mockingly speaking to him.
'Just what is that phrase again?'
This was different. Unexpectedly, he flashed back to the conversation he had with Clary in the church. When they had their discussion about God right before they took off to the Dumort to save rat-boy. The sensible, modern part of Jace came to his defense, ready to help Jace's mind's sense of self-preservation. He turned to Cas.
"We don't sell strait jackets here." he was unable to come up with anything wittier.
"I am not deceiving you."
Cas's eyes pierced into him. They were eerie, vivid, and impossibly bright. They reminded Jace of the Fair Folk, and he knew then, knew with some deep, hidden part of himself that he was afraid. This man was not human. Not in any way, and Jace could actually feel the man's power. It felt small at first, but began to bubble up, like water from some deep well and it steadily rose, like a fountain pouring over. Suddenly it was very overwhelming, and very there. He had been stupid not to notice it sooner, and even more suddenly it seemed very familiar, as though he knew it once upon a time and he used to swim in that fountain.
As if from far away, he could hear a few people make some kind of noise, like a gasp or a sigh. Maybe some kind of tug and pull; a large rope that pulled him beneath water…
"Cas."
Someone spoke. It was Green eyes. Jace thought he heard the man's voice had shaken. The world came back into focus. Green eyes did look a bit shaky, and Tall kept looking worriedly at everyone. Cas blinked, as though he had also been affected.
"Cas?" Tall asked.
"We." Cas gestured, voice steady. He gestured to the two men. "Will request asylum, it is imperative."
"Asylum?" echoed Alec and Tall incredulously.
"Cas-" Green eyes looked about to protest.
"Sure why not." Isabelle flippantly cut everyone off. "We're a charitable bunch when we feel like it." she smiled.
Alec looked like he wasn't the only one about to protest, but Isabelle glared fiercely at them. Jace smirked; typical Isabelle, her expression said this:
"There are more of us than them. If they start anything, we can handle it."
Her feral grin told him he was exactly right.
"You just think they're cute."
She grinned even wider.
"Come on in."
Green eyes grinned at hearing this, but he pointed it out all the same.
"Come in where? It's just a bunch of-"
Cas walked swiftly to the men's sides, ignoring the Lightwoods on either side of him. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders. Their reactions were amusing for Jace.
Green eyes' was louder. "What the fu-"
The Taller one cut him off, eyes wide with awe.
"Cleans up good." He smiled at them, as if manners were now usable, "I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."
Dean briefly waved. "Yo."
Alec jerked his head, "Come on then."
Jace rolled his eyes. About time; it had been too tense for too long. Everyone began to file up to the entrance; the strangest group so far seen. Jace watched Clary whisper something to rat-boy. It set his teeth on edge, but Clary smiled softly with undisguised warmth. His belly clenched; his… sister…who had every right to look at someone like that. Clary brushed past, close enough for him to smell her shampoo; he nearly flinched. Of course she'd want to come along. Perfect.
"Can't resist either?" he mocked. "Really think this is a good idea?"
Clary glared at him. "I have every right to be here."
Jace took one look at her expression and took a mental step back. Clary nodded, almost as though she could read his mind. She turned to Simon.
"I'll see you later."
Simon looked ready to protest, and Jace was vindictively pleased to see that Clary looked a touch annoyed. Suddenly Jace felt a strong irritation at Simon's protectiveness.
"We won't eat her." Jace made a shooing motion and deliberately tugged on Clary's arm.
Simon didn't look cowed, but a flush flared up in his face. Clary took one look and quickly moved back to Simon's side. Jace felt another irrational swoon of anger; he refused to acknowledge it and quickly grimaced. Clary gave Simon a brief hug, before she turned around to dash into the Institute, only stopping to give Jace a heated glare. He felt another sharp thrill go through him. Jace managed to see Simon angrily pivot away from him and hail a cab. Jace didn't feel a squinch of guilt as he walked inside the imposing cathedral.
-TMISPN-
The lift was cramped, which didn't help with the awkward silence of strangers being pressed together. For the record it went like this:
Sam, the tallest of the three men, and possibly the group, was towering over Alec, trying not to fall on top of the younger boy. Isabelle and Dean were sandwiched together, which neither seemed to mind. Sam had mouthed, 'Jailbait.' in his direction, but was ignored. The two were jostling the others, making nearly everyone topple over. Jace nearly tripped Clary as she struggled to remain untrampled by tugging on his shirt. Their tug and pull war was sending them careening into Sam and Alec, who both seemed mortified. Only Cas had managed to remain completely still no matter how many times the elevator shook.
"Is this a good idea?" hissed Alec, who then blushed at how audible he was.
"No. Your sister just wanted to invite sociopaths to dinner for fun." Jace replied sarcastically.
"We're really not crazy." Dean offered, a sly grin ruining his words.
"Now that is a shame." Isabelle grinned back.
Alec made a face nearly identical to Sam's. "Sorry about him." he said to Alec, who just grunted.
"I only meant that mundanes usually aren't…allowed." Alec replied.
"That why your boyfriend didn't come along?" asked Dean to Clary.
"He isn-" Clary started.
"Yes, and he is." Jace interrupted. "They are inseparable…like rabbits."
"Jace!" Clary shrieked, red faced. She managed to hit him on the arm.
The elevator clanged to a halt, doors screaming open in sudden protest. Everyone tumbled out, like a pile of kittens dumped out of a box. Only Cas remained upright. He stared curiously at them, as though humans sprawled on the floor was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. Cas very delicately walked out of the elevator and carefully avoided stepping on anyone as they all picked themselves up. He received a few looks, but he just tilted his head.
"We'll use the kitchen. Mom's been in the study all day, and probably won't come out at all. This way."
Isabelle imperiously sashayed the way. Jace smirked at how Dean's eyes flared in mild interest. Typical; his sister wore confidence like a fashion accessory. In this way, she was different from her-from Maryse.
Maryse had not so much as spared him a glance, or rather, one that wasn't cold. It filled him with dread. Maryse had never been considered a warm person, but she had never looked at him like that. Jace knew, with a sinking feeling, that it had to do with Valentine.
"Hurry up!" Isabelle called.
-TMISPN-
A few ways from the entryway and the hallway that led to the kitchen, sat Maryse. She was indeed in the study, sitting at the large mahogany desk, and unable to leave. For eternity it seemed, even though she had only arrived two days earlier. She had been trying to compose a letter and put down the things that needed to be said. Maryse, feeling quite old, ignored the faint ghostly sounds coming from the kitchen.
-TMISPN-
The kitchen had a guarded air; the defenses were starting to come back, but not for the purposes of life preservation, so that was something. Sam, Dean, and Cas sat on one side of the table. Jace, Alec, Clary, and Isabelle on the other.
"So…you must be really big fans." Clary broke the silence.
"Scuse' me?" Dean asked.
"Well…Sam and Dean." she stated meaningfully, "a…what's it called? An Impala?"
"Oh God." Dean groaned. "Nooooo-you're one of Chuck's fans?"
"Chuck?"
"Carver Edlund." Sam supplied.
Clary's expression cleared. "Oh no, I'm not. That's Simon, the boy who was with me." she clarified.
Jace snickered. "No surprises there."
Jace was promptly elbowed by Clary.
"So then…what you guys did at the convention." Clary asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
Jace and his siblings looked confused, so Clary told them what happened at the convention. When she finished, Sam was the one who gave the explanation. The Shadowhunters looked skeptical, but now it was mixed with a kind of studious curiosity. As if they found a particularly interesting species of monkey.
"Really?" Isabelle asked.
"Really?" Jace mocked. "That's a shocker."
"Really." Dean answered. His reply wasn't nearly as sarcastic but it could get there.
"There's-" Sam began.
"Surprising thing for a mundane to do." Alec interrupted.
"What the hell does that even mean?!" Dean snapped.
"A normal human." Clary explained.
The other teenagers gave her a brief warning looking, and then Jace shrugged.
"People who can't see the shadow world. There are things that are…um…magical, and normal people can't see them. Not in a metaphorical sense, but…argh, I'm not explaining this right." she spread her hands.
"People like you." Jace interrupted, exaggerating his rude tone.
Sam gave a self-deprecating smile. "We're not exactly normal."
"We're hunters." Dean said, as if this was enough explanation.
The two brothers exchanged their own look before taking it further.
"I'm not really sure what you mean by the shadow world, but there are things that exist that most people don't know about-" Sam spoke quietly.
Jace opened his mouth again, but Clary shushed him. Isabelle gave her a grateful look.
"Monsters are real." Dean cut in. "We hunt em'"
Sam shot his brother an annoyed look as Alec and Isabelle exchanged surprised looks.
"How?" Alec began.
"Really?" Jace stated dryly. "Monsters-I had no idea."
He looked like he might go on a bit more, and Dean looked ready to do the same.
"Where can I find a unicorn?" asked Jace, more to rile Dean up than anything else. Dean seemed to understand this. "Usually in the asses of uppity teenagers." he shot back without much heat.
"Shut up." Sam and Clary replied in unison.
Isabelle seemed the most amused by that.
"Sorry about him." Clary jerked a thumb at Jace.
Sam took a guess. "Your brother?"
Clary made a big show of rolling her eyes. "Unfortunately."
"Then I'm sorry about mine." Sam smiled. "It's been a crazy day."
Clary could sympathize.
Alec cleared his throat. "You were saying?"
Sam blinked. "Well Dean's right. Pretty much every single nightmare you can imagine-you name it, it exists. Hunters stop them from hurting people."
"Like Shadowhunters." Clary smiled. "We do the same things. Keep people safe."
Her words were simple, and something about them made Sam smile.
"What I'd like to know is how do these mundanes…hunters, know this?" Alec asked.
"Well not from brochures." Dean replied, somewhat evasive. "I don't know how it is for…Shadowhunters, but it usually isn't pleasant."
Nothing needed to be added to that really; the four Shadowhunters had a pretty good idea of what Dean meant.
"This has been interesting an' all," Isabelle broke the spell. "But what do Hunters do for fun?"
-TMISPN-
A couple of hours, explanations, and stories later, the three guests were showed to their room. Dean had the feeling that the kids probably thought the three of them were crazy, but that's been said before. He saw the looks they gave each other. The, If-these-guys-turn-out-to-be-stark-raving-lunitics-we-can-still-take-em' looks. He should know, he shared quite a few of those with his brother.
"Shadowhunters huh?"
"Yeah."
Dean sat on one of the beds. The room was spare, almost Spartan, but somehow Dean missed the skeevy motels they usually stayed in; at least those looked normal. One of the kids…Alec, had told them, this place was usually reserved for traveling Shadowhunters, and from the looks of things, could house tons.
"They're just kids." Sam sounded vaguely shocked.
"Yeah well…" Dean trailed off. "I know."
He knew what Sammy was getting at, but they didn't exactly have a shining example of childhood either. He could see from his brother's face, that he knew what he meant.
"Just wow. I mean did you see the looks they were giving us?"
Dean nodded. It reminded him of when he first met Rufus or Gordon. Just a bit different because it was a new species, like if a tiger met a lion in a dark alleyway. It was kinda creepy.
"Hopefully they won't go Children of the Corn' on our ass." he grinned at Sam.
Sam laughed at bit as he sat down.
"Honestly, I'm just glad this is just for tonight." Sam said.
"Yeah, thank God. Speaking of." Dean turned to Cas. "You ditch us to go on a God hunt, but you call us up and this happens. The Hell?" Dean directed at the angel.
Cas looked up; he seemed slightly confused.
'Serves him right.' thought Dean.
"You've been awfully quiet." Sam looked at the angel.
Of course, Sam looks concerned. Apocalypse or no, Dean wants to prevent chick-flick moments, and this is getting dangerously close to one.
"Try weird." Dean considered this, "Well weirder, ever since you called us."
Cas seemed to pause, looking meditative. "I sense something strange."
Dean clicked his tongue. Of course an angel would sense a disturbance in the force.
Sam looked a bit worried now. "Like demon strange…?"
"Yes and no."
"Helpful."
Cas gave Dean a somewhat dark look.
"It is difficult to explain. They…those children seem familiar. Not in a tangible way, but rather a power." he seemed almost at a loss.
Sam just looked confused.
"So…you called off your God hunt because your angel spidey-senses were tingling?"
Cas frowned, looking like he was trying to puzzle out the human expression to figure out what Dean meant.
"Yes. Something is going on in this city."
"Thanks Cas. That really clears things up."
Cas frowned again, now with annoyance and Dean grinned. The angel finally seemed to understand the concept of sarcasm now. Dean turned over.
"Ok, wake me up when things make sense again."
TBC…