AN: Because this has been in my head for the longest time since I've read City of Glass last year, and I'm only just now getting around to writing it because that's just what I do.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments, because if I did, Max would not have died.
Goodbye
She knows she's probably being ridicules, but she doesn't care. She can't stop blaming herself for Max's death and because of that she doesn't feel like she deserves to go to his funeral. So she skips it instead and mourns alone in her room.
She'd much rather be alone and cry in piece rather than around others. If there's one thing Isabelle Lightwood hates it's crying in front of people – the night in the Accord's Hall the only night she's allowed herself to cry around others.
She sits on her bed, clutching the stupid toy soldier she found in Max's grip. He shouldn't have needed to count on the toy. He should have had her. She's his sister and she should have been there. She should have protected him.
There's a knock at the door. She's already chased Alec and Jace away before.
Have they not learned?
She reaches around her floor, grabbing the first shoe she comes in contact with and chucks it at the door. "Go away!" she shouts as the shoe makes contact with the wood.
"Isabelle, it's me," a familiar voice says. "Simon."
As much as she wants to open the door, because she does; she doesn't want him to see her like this. Hell she doesn't want anyone to see her like this.
"Please open the door," he says eventually.
Against her better judgment she rises from her bed and walks over to the door. She takes a breath before opening it, revealing the vampire on the other side.
"What do you want Simon?" she asks, leaning against the door.
"To see if you were okay," he says as if it's the simplest thing in the world. "You can't just hide away in your room forever, Izzy."
Except I could.
She could easily stay in her room, alone. But at the same time, being alone means she's left with her thoughts – of Max, of the battle and everything else.
She closes her eyes, wishes she could push them away. But no matter what she does, she can't escape the memoires, it's as if they're haunting her.
A distraction may be what she desperately needs at the moment.
"You know," she says, reaching out for Simon. "I could use a distraction."
"Simon, where are we going?" she finally asks him.
They'd been walking around Idris for a while now and with each passing moment, Isabelle grew more and more curious as to their destination. She may be starting to regret agreeing to leave her room with him.
"It's not much farther," he replies.
She sighs as she continues to follow him. They have long left the cobblestone path and now walk through the grass away from the main part of Idris.
It takes Isabelle a moment to realize exactly where he's taking her and she's mentally kicking herself for not realizing it sooner. She's been to Idris a few times and she knows Simon – she should have known this is where he was going to take her.
She secretly loves that Simon cares so much but she doesn't think she's ready. Not now. Honestly, she's not sure if she'll ever be ready to visit this place. She's not even sure she's ready to say goodbye yet – even if she has no choose but to say goodbye.
Simon continues to walk ahead but she falls behind, eventually slowing to a stop.
It only takes Simon a minute to realize she's not following him and slowly turns around the face her. She pulls her gaze from her feet to meet his. His eyes filled with nothing but concern.
"Isabelle—"
"Simon – "
They end up speaking at the same time. If it were any other situation, she might have laughed. He gestures for her to go ahead.
She takes another breath to steady herself. "I'm not sure I can do this Simon."
"You're Isabelle Lightwood," she says as if it's the most obvious answer in the world, and really, it is. "You can do anything you put your mind too."
"I don't deserve this," she tries to protest. She doesn't because it's her fault this happened, and nothing Simon says will make her change her mind.
"You deserve to have a proper goodbye with your brother," Simon says, eventually. "You need this closure to move on, Izzy."
Okay so maybe he's right. She does need closure; she does need to move on. But there's still that small part of her that won't allow her that.
"And I'll be here if you need me," he adds.
She gives a small smile at that. His words being the push she needs to slowly close the distance between her and the entrance to the cemetery. She silently reaches for Simon as she passes him, pulling him along with her, gaining strength from him as she takes each step.
She's never been one to lean on anyone, not even her brothers. She's never been one to show that she needs anyone. She's never shown weakness, but right now, she doesn't care. And she's glad that it's Simon here with her.
She braces herself as she passes through the gate and heads towards the newly added grave.
She looks down on the tombstone, the words glaring up at her. She swallows against the lump forming in her throat.
Maxwell Joseph Lightwood
August 1998 - September 2007
Loving brother and son
He shouldn't have died like this.
He'll never begin his training; he'll never get his first marks, his firs heartbreak. Nothing, it was all taken from him.
She'll always miss him, her baby brother, gone too soon from this world.
She feels tears escaping from the edge of her eyes and she quickly wipes them away with the back of her hand. A hand wraps around her shoulders and she finds herself leaning into Simon's touch.
She may have been frightened at first, but now she's glad he brought her here. That he was able to pull her out of her room and despair.
She needs this, this closure – whatever it is. And she wouldn't have gotten it if it weren't for the persuasion n of a vampire.
Life is never going to be the same again, but one day, she'll learn to live with this. Maybe stop blaming herself.
"Ave Atque Vale, Max," she whispers into the night before she lets Simon to pull her away.