City of Recyclable Plastic Bottles
After the defeat of Valentine and all things that seemed a wee bit like incest, Jace Herondale happened to be walking through a field. It was a strange field, actually, as the wheat that grew in the field was pink and the sky above was an interesting shade of purple.
It was then he realised he was dreaming.
Of course, it is interesting that the aforementioned colours in Jace's dream are all slightly effeminate, but that is open to interpretation; interpret it in whatever way you like.
Jace laughed with glee in the dream and danced the dance of a happy person, a person that is happy and has only happiness to fill in their happy head of happies. In the dream, he was happy.
"But that's not right..." thought Jace in the dream. "...Clary isn't here."
And then Clary was there.
She danced with him and they enjoyed the pink wheat and the purple sky together. Jace realised that Alec, Magnus, Isobel, Simon, Luke, James Bond, Golem and Jessica Alba weren't there either.
Then they were. It was like...magic.
They all danced together. The wheat joined in, ruffling its wheaty bits, with the sky humming along.
And that was when Jace woke up.
His head hurt.
His throat ached.
His stomach heaved.
Consciousness did not seem a nice place to be.
He blinked into the light. Something hairy and red was obscuring his vision. He swatted at it, groaning. The hairy, red thing seemed to get bigger. Jace groaned louder and swatted harder, using his feet even though they were in the wrong place. The hairy, red thing levitated a few inches higher.
That was weird.
Jace continued to swat and groan; he'd forgotten how to stop.
"Oh, for Christ's sake!" That voice was not his own. It was Clary's. The hairy, red thing came into focus.
It was Clary. Oops.
"What the hell?" She had lifted her head off the bed and was staring at him, her expression one of distaste.
"Gredvejycgwfnrjhfeku..." groaned Jace, unable yet to string a sentence together, the rhythm of alcohol playing a deafening beat in his head.
"Go back to sleep..." Clary murmured. And so he did.
This time he dreamt of fairies.