Okay so this is my first time writing these fanfiction stuff sooo... Please keep an open mind! All the characters are the same.. so far. I dont know I might change it soon... but yah they do have different persanalities, well at least Clary will. ;) give her a little more of a back bone if you know what I'm saying... well..THANKYOU!

Oh and I don't own anything and possibly could not even imagine coming up with any of the character or ideas that were created by the most spectacular Cassandra Clare... well enjoy?... at least I hope you do.. hahah

Simon?...

A sudden insistent loud banging awoke Clary with a start flinging herself off of her bed landing without a sound into a fighting position within seconds, before she even began to comprehend what was happening. Seconds passed before her sleepy haze lifted allowing her the ability to think clearly once more. Some one was knocking on her door... Loudly. Sighing in exasperation Clary slowly lifted herself out of her crouch hearing a few cracks and pops coming from her body as if punishing her for moving. Glancing at the electric green clock on her nightstand she noticed it was 4 a.m. Who the hell would come to see me this late?... Or more pacifically, THIS EARLY! Clary thought to herself while making her way towards her electric green door. Taking a deep breath she put her hand onto the silver door knob twisting it slowly before yanking it open. A small yelp of surprise came from the figure standing on her doorstep. On closer inspection she realized that the figure was indeed human... A male... Young... And-wait! What the hell was Simon doing?

"Hey," Clary said not really knowing how to start up a conversation. I mean usually the person who commenced the knocking on the door should be the one who starts up the dialogue, but apparently Simon was just incapable of being civilized.

"Hey." He said back a little sheepishly, as if to prove her point.

"So..." She said a little hesitantly trying not to let her emotions take over her voice, but she just couldn't help it in the end. Hey, she was an impulsive person so what. "Sorry Simon you know you're always welcome her at ANY time of coarse but, what the bloody hell are you doing here at four in the morning?"

"Well..." And that's when she noticed it for the first time. The signs were all there, she felt stupid for not noticing before. Slowly Clary let her gaze run over him from head to toe and then back again slowly taking in all the signs she should've noticed right on the spot. He was swaying as if the world was changing it's gravitational force every now and again, his eyes were hazed over a little, his attention not really focused on anything, and of coarse his breathe gave him away on the spot.

"Simon," Clary started interrupting him without a thought, "you're drunk." It was a statement not a question but he answered it anyway.

"Yew's."

"Well, fuck." She sighed raising her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Deciding on being a saint that day Clary opened the door wider allowing him to be able to get inside, after all it did just start to rain. "Come in."

"Taunks Thray." Simon stated graciously while simultaneously tripping over the last step on her stairs forcing her to dive in to catch him from doing a complete face-plant into her door. Apparently his body decided to pass out right at that moment as if nothing in the world could've kept him conscious. Sighing again, but this time louder, she bent over lower taking the inside of Simons thigh with one hand and holding onto his shoulder with the other she easily tossed him onto her back. Carrying him into the living room like some kind of sacrificial lamb she brought in from the grocery store down the street. pffttt. Like they would sell sacrificial lambs... But maybe if you ordered it in- Sighing for the third time that night Clary dumped Simon onto the old hippie smelling couch tugging the wool woven blanket from the back to drape on him and tuck him in tight so hopefully he wouldn't accidentally roll over and fall onto the hard wooden floors. Would serve him right for getting drunk of coarse... But she would just get her revenge on him in the morning. She couldn't wait. Leaning over his sleeping form she carefully took off his glasses and set them on the coffee table exactly opposite of where he lay. But before walking away from him she couldn't help herself from looking at least one more time. Simon was her best friend. Has been her best friend since they were where little tikes running around the yard screaming at the older neighborhood kids while throwing rocks at oncoming traffic. They were some tough iron kids no doubt about it, well at least that's what her dad used to always say to her. Crushing that thought before it got too out of hand Clary leaned back over her best friend softly brushing back some stray locks of hair that had fell onto his face probably when she threw him down. Leaving before she lost the will power to do so she leaned over him one last time softly brushing her lips against his forehead. Not a kiss, just a brush for comfort. No matter what he did, she would always love him. He would always be her big brother.

"Goodnight Simon," She whispered quietly while getting up taking her time to walk backwards from the couch just to keep him in her view for a few more seconds, "It's been to long." and then she went to bed. Again.