Hello darlings. I've removed the original few chapters and replaced them with these better, and edited versions. The old ones were badly written in some places and sort of choppy, so I've spruced them up. If you're one of the wonderful people who reviewed, pretty please with m&m's on top review again, because it killed me to delete the original one, as bad as it was, to lose all your fabulous reviews.

Gone.

They were all gone. Jace saw them all.

Alec, a blade sunk in his back. Isabelle, a red gleam at her throat, her golden whip still in hand. Even Simon, an ugly hole where his heart should be.

Magnus, with a cut down his cheek ad a gash starting at his shoulder and ending at his elbow was leaning over Alec, trying everything to save him, trying to force his strength into his body. The two were surrounded by blue fire, sparks crackling and flying. Magnus' cat eyes were manic and tormented.

And Clary. Clary with the bloody claw marks across her chest. Jace caught her sagging body, and they dropped to the ground as he held her. Her floral scent is gone, taken over by the smell of blood, ichor, and demonic poison.

Jace knows. Jace knows, but he can't will himself to think the words. But he knows. She reaches a shaky hand to his face, touching. For the first time in years, Jace is crying. Silently, with tears streaming down his face, his lips trembling. His voice shaking, he repeats the single litany he recited at Renwick's, so long ago.

A little bit a ways away, Isabelle, her heart beating fleebly, forces herself to crawl the last foot over to Simon, so they can die side by side.

Magnus knows. Like Jace, he knows but refuses to think it or say it. The sparks and blue fire disappear, and is replaced by a light glow, which disappears after a minute. Magnus takes Alec's and simply holds him to his chest, and realizes although he can't fix Alec this time, his job isn't finished. He lies Alec's body down carefully on the wet ground. He silently and slowly walks over to Jace's slumped figure on the ground, holding Clary. Her eyes were still open, and her fingers on his lips and in his hair. Magnus stops a few feet away as Jace reaches into his jacket, and pulls out a little black satin box. He pops it open, and inside lies a gold band inlaid with a cluster of brilliant sparkling diamonds all surrounding the largest, brightest one.

"Clary," he starts, voice still trembling. "Will you marry me?" he asks, the tears still streaming.

Thousands of thoughts came to the surface of Jace's mind. He'd been carrying the ring around since they returned to New York after the battle in Idris, and he suddenly felt a wave of regret that he waited so long to ask Clary to marry him. It was too late now. He'd never get to see her in a white dress, walking down the aisle. He'd never think of marriage as an attractive thing, but with Clary, everything changed. God, everything had changed.

Her eyes start spilling tears, and the ghost of a smile appears on her lips as they form a single word. The tears streaming down Jace's face are now a mixture of tears of sadness, tears of anger, and even tears of joy, amazingly enough.

Clary knows it. Clary knows she is dying, and tries not to think about it. She imagines that they are alone, that everyone else is safe, and that her chest isn't mangled, and that her Jace isn't crying and in pain.

Behind them, Magnus Bane feels nothing but a overwhelming sense of defeat and hopelessness.

No, a voice rang in his head. Magnus knows he can still help, or at least try to make the situation less tragic, which seemed impossible. He walked the remaining few feet to them, knelt down and placed his hands above Clary's collarbone. A brilliant blue glow seeped through his fingers, almost like witchlight.

"What are you doing? It's no use. Leave us alone." Jace said, his voice agonized, yet dead. Magnus said nothing. When he removed his hands, Magnus was even more exhausted and his shoulders were slumped.

"It took away the pain," he says blankly, and goes back to what's left of Alec.

Then, Jace and Clary both felt something- maybe not exactly feeling something, but a change in how they felt at that moment.

Jace no longer felt misery or sadness, no anger and no agony. He didn't feel the cut that slashed down his eyebrow, or the cut down the side of his face, or the gash tearing up his arm. He didn't feel his broken arm, he didn't feel any of his injuries. Most importantly, he didn't feel his heart breaking into a thousand irretrievable pieces. The only thing he felt was Clary's fingers on his face and in his hair, and the feeling of her small body against his, and the fact that his ring was on her finger. He felt…at peace. But somewhere, in the back of his head, a voice was screaming.

Clary no longer felt the pain that tore her chest apart. She forgot that she was dying, and that everything she knew had fallen. All of that pain was gone, forgotten, vanished. She only felt Jace's arms around her, her fingers on his soft, shaking lips, her fingers in beautiful, dirt matted hair, and the band of gold and diamonds on her finger. It felt like home. Like Jace, she was at peace. She felt something else- she felt herself slipping, her thoughts getting hazier and her arms heavier. It would be so easy to let her arms go limp, to just feel his arms around her. No, she thought. She knew these last moments had to count…but she was so exhausted. No, the voice rang again. And Clary knew what she wanted before she slipped under into the welcoming darkness. Using what was left of her strength she moved her hand from his lips and wound it in his hair. She pulled his face down to hers, so that their foreheads and noses touched. Then, she kissed him. Gently, very gently they kissed until she didn't want to use up what was left of her strength, so she let him hold her, their foreheads still touching, and moved one hand from his hair to his cheek. The two stayed like that for what seemed like forever. But they knew it. It was when Clary's still open eyes started to flutter, her hands slipping from his face. With a shaking hand, she wound her fingers through his hair, holding on. Jace could feel the peacefulness waning, the misery and rage and the agony rising to the surface, and the screaming in his head was becoming louder.

The tears started flowing down his face again, as the trembling started again. Clary started to whisper his name over and over so quietly it was as if she was breathing it. Clary forced her eyes fully open, and said his name clearly, just his name one last time before her body went limp. Her hand fell from his hair and landed on his heart, and her right hand fell from his cheek.

Jace Lightwood.

Her final words rang in his head, and he stopped breathing.

The first thing Jace Lightwood thinks, is Why am I not dead yet? But he was. Inside, he was dead. Jace knows it. All he sees is her eyelids closing, hiding the brilliant green forever. All he hears is his heart pounding in his years. This, Jace thinks, is truly dying.

One minute he thought he was safe with Clary in his arms, and the soft cloud they were on started to precipitate, and he was falling, with nothing to catch him.

Sobs start to wrack his body, making his whole body tremble. The crying isn't like before, as his body shakes in time with the sobs.

"Oh Clary…Oh no, no no…"
He starts to yell and scream at the sky a single word. Everything he knew, everything he was is gone.
Suddenly, so suddenly, his misery and depression is overtaken by rage, sudden and fast like avalanche.
Hatred.
Agony.
It comes over him in a wave, a red, burning wave. He gently sets Clary's body down amidst his body shaking with the wave of red anger, his mind not really sure what to feel, confused in the avalanche of bitter emotion. Not being near her, not touching her, knowing he would never truly be with her again tears at his heart, and it left Jace feeling hollow, nothing worthy of feeling inside him. He turned around to face Magnus holding Alec's body again, and a few feet away, Izzy and Simon, her hand on his chest, trying to hide the hole where his heart should be. As Jace looked around, he saw something with purple hair writhing on the ground. Demon, he thought, and his face twisted into a look of sheer disgust and hatred, and his eyes burn. The rage and hatred washes over him stronger this time. Now all he can see his the anger and hatred, his vision going red. The shaking disappeared, and an eerie calm came over him.

"You bastards," he spits out at the demon. "You've killed her. You've killed them all!"
The demon looked up at him, his lip curled over the serrated teeth. Jace suddenly pined the thing down, and takes his dagger in his good arm, and brings it down on the creature's chest. It's so drained of ichor, none of it bleeds out. Jace, consumed by the hate, keeps stabbing the thing's chest, until it disappears into itself and Jace is shaking once again.

He gets up, and throws the dagger to the ground in disgust of himself and the demon. As he turns to face Clary again, the hate is pushed to the back of his head, and the agony and misery a is brought back to the surface at the sight of seeing her still and unmoving.

Why am I not dead yet? Jace thinks again. He knew at that moment he would be thinking that for the rest of his life. Jace goes to Clary, and pulls her into his lap. Her chest was still wet with blood.

Jace hears Magnus saying something in a dead tone, but he isn't listening to him. Jace doesn't move, doesn't say anything. He just holds Clary. The night air is cold, so he takes his shirt stained with her blood off, and covers her with it as if she could still feel the night air's sting. All Jace feels now is pain. His arm was broken; his entire body was cut up and bruised, but that pain was simply a cruel reminder that he wasn't dead. The worst pain of all was the agonizing hollowness, that his entire life was destroyed and spread out in front of him too see. And seeing Clary, white and still in his arms slashed at him like a million daggers. Jace knew that he would never forget this image; it would stay imprinted in his mind even after he died.

He would carry it with him forever.

He would carry this night with him forever.

He would carry her with him forever.