Hello! I know it's been such a long time since I've last updated Redemption for 24, and the only excuse I could say is high school. It's crappy, I know, but it's all I got. Another thing: I'm going to tweak the storyline of RF24 a bit. Let's be real here – it started to really suck. I know none of you guys said anything about it, which is fine for my ego, but not fine for the story. So, yeah. That story is temporarily gone and will be reloaded soon.

This is a new story I've been chewing on. The idea had been slowly formulating in my head since flipping the last page of COHF, and I just now decided to do something about it – nearly a year later. Call me sad, it's perfectly okay. Because I get it.

Disclaimer: I do not own the flamboyant characters. I do not own the fabulous home country. All of that belongs to the one and only phenomenal Cassie.


And when the night is cloudy,

there is still a light,

that shines on me,

shine until tomorrow,

let it be.

-Paul McCartney

The harsh wind of New York broke through the wool hoodie he had thrown on that morning and froze the blood in his veins. Every huff a ghost; every step a freezing burn; every breath an icy storm; and every shudder more powerful than the rest. Not for the first time he had wondered why he jumped up from bed so quickly after receiving the message, thrown on a sweatshirt and boots, and headed out of his respected room in the Institute.

Finally, he saw his destination: Taki's, a restaurant with a dingy appearance but an impressive inside. He shouldered his way through the set of double doors and walked into the bright restaurant, almost empty from the odd hour of the week. He searched the place for a mop of golden curls; after spotting the guy waving him over, he headed over to the booth and sunk into the chair opposite of his.

Of Jace.

Jace returned from the Mortal War in nearly one piece, several deep scars now permanently embedded into his chest and his shoulder, both brought on by his girlfriend's psychotic brother, Sebastian – or, better known as in the Shadow World, Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern. He shuddered at the thought of his white blond hair, his dark eyes, and his cruel smirk. Some things, even mental scarring, will never fully heal. Clary must be an expert on this topic.

Jace cocked an eyebrow. "Everything okay over there, Simon?"

Simon suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Jace Herondale – even fighting in a war that almost ended everyone he loves' life hadn't been able to wash away the tint to his egoistic attitude. "No," he said in dripping sarcasm, "I absolutely cannot handle the distant proximity between us any longer. Please, do me a favor and extend it farther."

The corner of Jace's mouth quirked up, but he didn't shoot back. "Now is hardly the time for such idle banter," he said instead. "We're here for a reason."

"Right." Simon said, suddenly finding the corner of the table much more interesting than Jace's unnerving gaze on him.

He heard the other guy drum his fingers against the polished table impatiently. Sending him a quizzical scowl, Simon noticed Jace bite back a retort and mentally decide to be subtle. "I ordered two coffees five minutes ago," he explained. "They still haven't brought me anything."

"Aw, look at you," Simon mocked. "Ordering my drinks already. What's next, sharing smoothies and photo booths?"

"Only in your fantasies – oh, look, here they are," he said, accepting the two steaming mugs from the male waiter with large, orange ears. The waiter nodded at them and whirled on his heels, dashing back to the kitchen.

Simon, ignoring the waiter's behavior, accepted his mug from Jace and took a sip – and nearly gagged on the bitterness of black coffee. "Eugh," he said, clanging the mug clumsily on the table. Jace, who had been in mid-sip, raised his brows over at him. "Black coffee," he expressed. "That's a Clary thing, not me."

Jace snorted and sat his mug down, too. "That reminds me," he said, suddenly all business. "We're both on the same page, right?"

"I'm taking that as we're both straight, which I can confirm yes, I'd like to say we are." said Simon automatically.

Jace stared at him for a moment, long and hard. Then, finally: "It's nice to know we got that clarified, Simon, after declaring your love to my sister only a few years ago."

"Shut up," Simon quipped half-heartedly. "But seriously, yes, I get why you contacted me, and I get why we need to talk."

"Perfect." He took another sip, smacked his lips, and sat the mug down once again. He gazed deep into the mug's contents, swirling the cup slightly, and Simon noticed the coffee swishing alarmingly close to the brim. He feared for a moment Jace was going to spill the coffee on the table. "Then let's get talking."

"Okay," Simon exhaled. He folded his hands on the table. "So, is it true? The Clave really invited you into the whatever–?"

Jace sat the mug down with a clatter. "The NA – Nephilim Assemblage. Yes, they did."

Simon leaned forward on the table eagerly. "What exactly is that, anyway?"

Jace sunk down a bit in his chair. "It's a group of experienced Shadowhunters," he said, "that go across the world to aid Nephilim in trouble." He bit the inside of his cheek. "It's an honor."

"Why were you invited, and no one else?" Simon asked, curiosity getting best of him.

Jace glanced up at him in surprise. "Alec was invited into it, too."

Simon gnawed at his bottom lip in thought. "So that means…"

"Yes," he said. "Alec is leaving."

"Well, that's good, right?" When Jace sent him a questioning look, Simon quickly continued. "Now we have more support to leave."

"I guess," he said. Jace stared at him levelly. "Why were you invited back to Idris?"

Simon shrugged. "I did well in the Academy," he said, and started to smirk a bit. "They want me back to teach mundane culture."

"At least you're probably good at that."

His eyes narrowed at Jace, but didn't banter back. Like he said, it really wasn't the time. Instead he fidgeted with the handle on the cup. "We all have to leave, then," he said. "To Idris."

Jace nodded. "That is the situation, yes."

"And we have to move there," Simon continued, ignoring Jace's comment. "Permanently."

"Yes, good job Simon," said Jace sarcastically. "You've stated the obvious. What's next, declaring water is wet?"

"Shut up," Simon declared, his nose wrinkled in disgust. "God, you're an ass. I don't see how Clary can stand you."

"She doesn't," he implied casually, sending him a wink.

Simon, not wanting to dwell on what that meant, quickly continued with the business at hand. "Have you told Clary of the news?"

Jace's smirk slid off his face. "No," he said finally. "I thought we agreed to wait to tell everyone at once."

"We did," he said quickly. "I was just wondering."

A silence. Jace spoke up after a minute of being wrapped up in his own thoughts. "Are you planning on inviting Isabelle with you?"

Simon stared at him, a bit startled. "Of course I am," he said. "Are you with Clary?"

"What do you think?"

"I'm taking that as a yes, then."

Jace rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Through narrowed eyes he studied Simon, chewing the inside of his cheek in thought. "We tell everyone the news in two days," he said finally. "At the Institute."

"Two days?" Simon stared at him in an incredulous shock. "Why so soon?"

"Because the faster the news is over with, the faster we'll move over there," said Jace in an obvious tone. "The Clave keeps on contacting me for my reply. It's annoying, and I can't answer without knowing if I want to move there yet."

"How do you not know if you want to go?" Simon asked. "You're practically planning your lunch schedules as we speak."

"It's not if I personally want to choose," said Jace, suppressing another eye roll and biting back a retort. Simon wondered if all his sarcastic remarks were taking a toll from Clary. "It's if Clary is willing to come with."

Oh. Of course Jace wouldn't want to leave if it meant separating himself from Clary. The two are practically married as it is. Whipped, he thought maliciously, and Simon instantly felt better. "I'm sure she'd say yes," he assured the other boy. "There's no way she'd let you give this honor up for her."

But Jace didn't seem to be listening. "You think so?" was all he muttered.

Simon took a deep breath. "So that's it, then? Gloating why we've both been invited back to the home country over coffee?"

"Late coffee, may I add," Jace chipped in. "And pretty much, unless your fantasized mind thought of doing something else. It's okay; you're not the first person who dreams about me."

Simon muttered something incoherent under his breath and made to get up.

Jace, who had shrugged at his sour expression, stood up out of his chair and dropped a five dollar bill on the table. "I would say this had been nice," he said, "but you've been exceptionally rude, which ruined my day."

"Looks like my mission has been accomplished," Simon mumbled. Jace didn't seem to hear him as he crossed the restaurant and, with one last look over at Simon's standing form, shouldered his way through the doors, leaving without so much as a goodbye. Simon rolled his eyes when he realized the money Jace left wasn't enough for two coffees. With a string of curses, he whipped out his wallet, dropped another five, and tucked it back in his pocket, leaving through the restaurant's doors just as Jace had done. Making a split decision, he turned the opposite direction he came from and began walking to the Fray's. For some strange reason, he wasn't in the mood to see any more arrogant Shadowhunters.


It gets better, I promise.

~MJ