A/N: This is just some short drabble I've been thinking about lately. And since no one really has stories on Celine - or really cares that much about her, I suppose, since I don't see anything with her around - I decided why not? So enjoy and review, yes?

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments series, Celine Herondale, or anything related to Cassie and her publishers. The only thing I own is the idea of this.

Summary: Basically my thoughts on how Celine was reacting to Stephen's death.

"Miss, you've got at least attempt to eat something." Silence followed. "For the baby, perhaps?"

Celine winced. That was the sentence that had been feeding her for the past few days. She had to keep the baby alive. The baby. Not herself. Just the baby. It's what he would have wanted - what Stephen would have wanted.

She blinked. She couldn't think about him. Thinking about him always brought memories, emotions, and tears along. After all the crying she had done for the past week, she felt there could possibly be no more tears left in her. She realized she was wrong the instant her vision became blurry. Who was she kidding? It didn't matter if she didn't want to let her tears come, they were going to anyways. It was too much to bear. He was gone. Her husband was gone. The man she loved most in the world was forever ripped away from the world. Never to be seen or heard from again. He would never get to see their child being born. Never see him grow up. There would be no father to teach her son the fighting skills he would need or to play sports with him. Her son would only have one parent and that was herself. But how could she raise a child when she couldn't even hold herself together?

Distinctly, Celine heard sounds that sounded like strangled cries. It took her a moment to realize they were her own sobs escaping her lips. The maid that had spoken earlier, Johanna, set the tray down on the bedside table and walked around to the edge of the bed where Celine sat. There was already a routine for this. Johanna was the one who usually stayed by Celine, so naturally she would be the one to comfort her when no one was around. She started to place an arm around Celine's shoulders when Celine shook her head. She couldn't anymore. She couldn't have anyone watch her cry anymore. "Please g-go." She choked out, turning her face away.

"Miss-"

"Just go!" she shouted, her voice coming out raspy and raw. Johanna sat there for a minute before nodding once and standing.

"I'll be around the house if you need me, miss." She said quietly before exiting. Celine had never yelled at any of the servants before. Why should she? They all did their job, they all were people just the same. But she wanted to be alone. To cry out in grief by herself. Her sobs could probably be heard to anyone within the house, or at least on the upper floor. But who cared anymore? She felt consumed with loss and sorrow and pain. Felt as if a part of her own body had been ripped from her flesh and burned to a crisp in front of her. And all the while she was still living. He was gone. A small flutter in her stomach that she wouldn't have noticed if there wasn't a person inside her made her tears slowly start to subside and her breathing come in ragged breaths as she panted for air. A hand came to rest on her pregnant belly and she sniffled.

"I'm sorry." She whispered gently to the creature inside her. "I'm sorry he's gone. He would've been a much better parent. I can't even take care of myself." She whispered, her eyes unconsciously flickering to the tray of food a few feet away. Other than the small nagging in her stomach - which was probably the baby trying to knock sense into her - that reminded her that she needed to eat, Celine felt nothing of hunger. No need for anything. Only the longing for Stephen.

Another flutter in her stomach. She sniffled again and nodded, half to herself, half to the unborn child that couldn't see her. "I know," She whispered before standing and heading for the tray of food. It was her favorites. Or what would have been her favorites on any other occasion. Her favorite type of drink, of soup, of dessert. Even of bread. Choosing the bread, the tore bits off, nibbling off it and sitting back down.

This was how her days were spent now. She would hardly leave her room unless necessary. Her food was brought to her and people had been coming to see her for the first few days, though they stopped after realizing just the state she was in. She looked a mess. Her blonde hair that she usually kept shiny and brushed and neat was tangled and sticking at odd ends all over the place. Even some of the shine was fading now. She had lost color in her face and her golden eyes that usually held a sort of light to them was faded away. There were bruise-colored bags beneath her eyes from the sleepless nights that were partly because of her condition and partly because of the nightmares that haunted her behind shut eyes.

Her nightmares usually consisted of images of Stephen lying on the ground all bloodied and beat up and taking his last breaths. In each dream she would try to reach him. In each dream he kept moving further away from her and she failed.

She knew it had been a bad idea. She had begged him not to go that day. Almost thrown herself on her knees to keep him by her side. He had told her it was just her hormones overreacting. He told her it was going to be over before she knew it and that he would be back in no time. He told her had to go because he was Valentine's second-in-command. Apparently Valentine never mentioned the fact that he was going to have to die because he took the position. Never mentioned that he would leave behind a wife and a child on the way.

And now he was gone. Just like that. And, oh, how she wished she could be with him.

A/N: Yeah, I know this isn't the best. But I wanted this idea out of my head - because, let's face it, it's depressing - and this was the only way I could think of getting it out. I'm not sure if I want to continue this up to the point where she commits suicide or leave it here. I guess you all can decide by reviewing? :D