Nursery Rhymes

Everything was coming in blurry memories. Pieces of a dream that slipped through Clary's fingers like sand. She tried to focus on one single thing, tried to link images together to give her something to hold on to. But it was a fruitless endeavor. Clary's mind just couldn't grasp what went before her.

She was in the back of a van, her hands and feet bound painfully together. Slouched against the walls of the rumbling van were other children. Clary curled up in a ball of terror because she couldn't remember why she was bound or why she was in the van. She faded out of consciousness, aware only of heart wrenching loneliness.

The van hit a large bump and Clary was jostled vaguely back to the living world. Her hands were still tied up, and she couldn't remember where she was going. But the van hit another mound in the road and Clary was thrown to the side. She landed against a lean warm body. Her eyes roved up uncertainly, and she was staring at boy who looked familiar. He had a fine boned face and golden curling hair, and in his sleep, he seemed like an innocent fallen angel.

A name came to Clary before she passed out again. It sent shivers down her spine and warm tingling grew in her belly. Jace, she thought before her eyes closed.

Bright light. Blinding light. It was invading the warm, comforting darkness of the van. A breeze blew in, chilling Clary. She was shivering against Jace, who stirred slightly by her, and gazed at her with cloudy pale yellow eyes. Then there were shapes in the light, vague frightening shapes; and the shapes drew in toward them like wraiths. Clary frantically shook her head, trying to speak, to call for help, but no sound escaped her mouth. They reached out horrible white hands for her. Clary was roiling in terror, clawing at the wall of the van. She didn't know who they were, but they were dragging the other children away. Clary managed to grab hold of Jace, who was frowning in a confused way.

Then Clary felt hands on her legs, dragging her to the light at the end of the van. She was struggling as much as she could, bucking and kicking. She was crying, sobbing in confusion, as they hauled her into the cold light. Clary looked up and saw bright light, and beyond that, stars cart wheeling like mad. She was gagging on her own sobs.

"Stop…top…op…" She heard a voice all over her; it snarled and then faded into nothing.

Something sat her in a chair, pressing her against the back. A hand holding a rag wiped her face of the tears and held her chin so she was forced to breathe through her mouth. Clary felt and pair of hands take her wrists and place them on arms of the chair, and then felt pressure on her wrists. She couldn't find Jace…she was alone.

The sound of shrieking rusty metal woke her for a final time. Clary was moving forward down a long shadowy hall. There were lights on the sides, but they just barely fought back the dark. She was in a wheelchair, she knew that. The squeaking metal was the wheels protesting movement. Her wrists were strapped down to the arms of the chair and her legs were still bound together. Her heart was beating faster and harder than ever. She couldn't remember where she was or where she was going; only that she was alone and tied down.

"P-p-" Just say the word. "P-pl-please-"

But there was no answer. No one seemed to care how scared she was, how wrong all this was. She barely knew herself anymore.

The last moments of Clary's waking memory were the strangest. She was lifted up, and into a very dark room. So dark she couldn't even see her hands before her face. It was warm, balmy and silent, and when she was lowered down, the ground was soft and springy like a bed. The restraints on her ankles were cut and someone draped a blanket over her. She looked up to see who, to see anything, but all she saw was the stars like tiny pinpricks in the black…

"Clary, Clary, please, for the love of God, wake up," said a voice urgently in Clary's ear. She stirred restlessly and struggled to pull herself into the waking world. "Come on, wake up."

It was like treading water, except the water was her nightmares. She saw flashes of the van ride, of the light and the wraiths dragging her away, and the wheelchair ride. But the voice, she needed to reach the voice; she knew that voice, it was the most important voice in the entire world.

"Jace…" she murmured, twitching and turning in her half awakened senses.

"Yes, Clary," Jace said softly, cupping her cheeks gently. "Yes, it's me."

Clary's eyes fluttered open and she was staring up at Jace. "Where are we?"

"I don't know," Jace admitted, his eyes darkening. "I mean, we're at the Edison Group, but I don't know where. Or," he looked around uncertainly, "what."

"What do you mean?"

Jace sighed and lifted Clary up to the sitting position so she could see the room. "I mean look around you."

Clary had never been a room so… silly. She supposed she must have been in a nursery like it when she was a toddler, but she was sixteen!

The room was circular with padded walls that stretched up fifteen feet before turning into flat metal. In the very upper reaches of the room were small windows that just barely let in a light of the rising sun. In the frail light Clary was able to see the room around her. The floor was soft and spongy as if it was made of mattresses, and was covered in a wide assortment of toddlers' toys. There were piles of plush animals, some as tall as Clary and as wide as Derek. Pastel balls rolled around aimlessly. Great big throw pillows had been tossed here and there along the walls, making imposing mountains of frilliness. Wicker baskets of thick blankets were littered around the room. In the corner nearest Clary was a small alcove that had been created by large bookshelves that concealed three bean bag chairs. Looking up, Clary saw that the ceiling had been painted to look like a blue sky with a speckling of clouds. At the moment though, since it was still early, the sky was in shadow and a dusting of lights used to represent stars was glowing. In the distance, Clary heard lullaby music.

"What is this place?" Clary asked, eyes lingering on a stuffed animal bear that stood taller than her.

"Our new apartments, I guess," Jace muttered. "I don't know why they'd put us here, of all places. We're not babies." He seemed to chafe at being trapped in a place for children, but, then again, Jace had never really been a child. Since he was old enough to speak he'd been training as a shadowhunter. Clary didn't know how Jace was going to survive here. "There must be a way out of here, but I haven't looked around."

"Really?" Clary glanced at him in surprise. Usually he'd be the first the run a reconnaissance.

Jace looked ruefully down at his legs. "The drug hasn't worn off quite yet. I can't stand up very well."

Clary blinked and very carefully tried to roll onto her feet. Jace watched her cautiously, hand gripping hers very tightly. Clary felt her weight shift onto her feet, and the moment she did, she was hit with a crippling numbness. Her legs couldn't support her weight and she pitched forward helplessly. She landed with a muffled thump on the floor and bounced back.

"Okay, I shouldn't have done that," Clary groaned, knocking a limp legged horse plush out of the way.

Jace smiled slightly. "You reminded me a new born kitten."

Clary rolled up onto her knees and crawled over to Jace. "I guess we just have to wait until it wears off. Grab that blanket."

Jace stretched out and pulled a basket overflowing with blankets over. He pulled out the biggest quilt he could find and wrapped it around him and Clary comfortably. They reclined onto the floor and pressed their bodies against each other helplessly, watching as the sun rose in the real sky so far away.

When the sun had risen high enough to fill the room with light, and the stars on the ceiling had lost their glow, Jace felt a tingling in his legs. He flexed the muscles experimentally and moved them around. The feeling returned quickly and Jace carefully clambered up and onto his legs. They were wobbly and uncertain, like a foal's, but he leaned against the wall and walked around. A moment later and Clary was trailing after him.

"Where's everyone else?" she asked.

"I don't know-"

"Clary!" chirped a voice from behind the nearest mountain of pillows. "Clary, help me. I can't move."

"Chloe," Clary called back. "Chloe we're coming." She straggled over to the pillows, her feet tangling around each other. "Can you move, Chloe?"

"Barely," she groaned, and Clary saw the pillows shift around. Then, the small figure of Chloe came clambering around the pillows. She was switching between sitting and straddling the pillows to move. "Where are we?"

"A nursery," said a gruff voice.

Chloe spun about and couldn't help when she reached out for Derek, who was lumbering unsteadily on his feet. He, of all the children, seemed to be able to walk without the assistance of a wall. He was almost to Chloe when she spoke, and it seemed to urge him onward frantically. He took a step too quickly and he stumbled, fumbling into the pillows beside her.

Chloe shrieked, Derek howled, and Jace snorted. "Well done," Clary giggled softly.

"I don't see you walking," Derek growled, eyeing Jace with a frown. But anyone could see that he was relieved.

Jace sneered and then climbed carefully to the pillows. "So, we're in a nursery?"

Derek was focusing his attentions on Chloe, who was shaking as the drug began to wear off. He was holding her gently in the crook of his arms. Vaguely, he glanced up and said, "Yes. When me and the other werewolf pups were very young they kept us in here. It wasn't as full of toys because we ripped them up, but it's the same place. I remember the ceiling." He paused, looking around with a curling lip. "They probably stuck us in here for psychological reasons."

Jace seemed skeptical. "Psychological? We're unstable genetically so the antidote is to make us play with toys and live in a nursery."

Derek shook his head; he obviously understood the thinking of the scientists. "In a way, yes. They think that the best way to keep us calm and stop us from going crazy is to have us in highly unstressed, relaxed surroundings. As people, we were most relaxed when we were children. So, naturally, the best place to keep us is in a nursery."

"But-but they can't keep us in here?" Clary asked uncertainly. She wasn't sure what they could do.

Derek glanced around. "There used to be a door on the far wall that led to a spare room. They used to put us there if we misbehaved. Maybe they'll let us in there once in a while."

"That's not what I meant," Clary grumbled, but hers, and everyone else's eyes, roamed the far wall. "But, do you think they're going to let us outside?"

"Outside?" Derek seemed surprised by the word. "I don't think they'll let us see natural light again. This place is huge."

The four sat in silence for a moment. It was hard to think of anything good to say when they were faced with an eternity of florescent lights and manufactured air. Not to mention the terrifying experiments that Dr. Davidoff had discussed earlier. The children had forced themselves to forget the idea, but now, trapped in nursery with no one but each other, it was hard to press it back. Was that what the spare room was for now? Would they have to pair up together?

As one, the four looked up and met each other's eyes. They were all thinking the same thing.

"What do you think they're waiting for?" Chloe asked. "Why haven't they come for us?"

"We have to adjust to our surroundings," Jace said bitterly.

"This place is weird," Chloe said softly. "I feel like someone is gonna come in and make us put on diapers or something." She laughed uncertainly. "How are we supposed to pass the time here?"

"Playing doll house," Jace suggested.

"Jace," Clary said seriously.

They lapsed into silence for a time, and then a pale pink ball soared through the air and bounced off the pillow pile. When they turned to see where the ball had come from, they saw Simon try to crawl out of an alcove made of plushies. He sighed and pushed his hair out of his eyes.

"What the hell is going on here, bro?" They watched at Simon padded over, his legs moving slowly like he was in water. He saw them watching and scowled. "Not gonna help?"

"Not like they can," Tori called from behind them. She was prancing around like a fawn. "We're all fighting the effects of a drug."

Eventually, Simon and Tori managed to reach the pillow and they panted heavily while they rested. Derek checked Simon's pulse to make sure he was okay.

"Now, you were saying?" Simon said, looking to Jace.

"That we can play dollhouse. Do you wanna be my husband?"

Simon made a face. "Always knew you wanted me." He shook his head and laughed. "Here's a thought. How about we make a…a, I don't know, a fort or-or something, that we can hide in when the doctors come?"

Jace raised his eyebrows. "That's not too bad."

"We could make it out of pillows," Chloe said thoughtfully. "There's got to be hundreds in here."

There was a round of agreement, and, carefully, so they didn't fall, the children spread out to drag pillows over. Derek managed to haul the huge bear over to the part of the room where they were piling pillows. Using the bear as a support beam of sorts, they stacked the pillows up and around it, making semi-stable walls. It was a hard thing to build, especially when the children couldn't balance, but after what must have been hours, they had a structure that was vaguely a fort. It was very low to the floor, low enough that the children would have had to crawl on their hands and knees to enter. It was just big enough, though, for all six children to squeeze in.

"It's like a rabbit hole," Simon said with a lopsided smile.

"You said it, Peter," Tori shot back.

Jace stared at her. "His name is Simon."

Tori sniggered into her hand while Jace stared, confused. Derek took pity on him. "She's talking about Peter Rabbit. You now, he went into Mr. McGregor's garden when his mother told him not to?"

"No, I don't know," Jace said blankly.

"Well, I'm sure the book is here somewhere," Clary murmured, squeezing Jace's arm. "I can't find it, if you'd like."

"No, that's okay," he said. "Should we get out of sight?" He eyed the makeshift fort doubtfully, but his eyes roamed about once, as if he were searching for something. Or someone.

"I'll go first," Clary said bravely, picking up a blanket before she went in.

Clary crawled in, and almost at once, the temperature rose. She tucked herself in as far as she could, until her small body was up against the bear. She waited with baited breath for Jace to come, but Chloe came next, and then Tori, there eyes strangely frantic. The boys seemed to be forcing the girls in swiftly. There were voices, a rushed argument.

"What's happening?" Clary asked at once, seeing Chloe stare back terrified.

"On the far side the wall started to move. It's a door. Someone's coming in." She glanced at Tori, who was listening carefully. "The boys pushed us in."

"What, are they gonna fight?" Clary demanded.

"No," Tori said sharply. "They're boys. They want to be the last to go in. You know, be brave."

Clary could very easily imagine Jace forcing Derek and Simon to retreat first. "Jace!" Clary called, and she knew he heard her. She waited patiently. He would come, he wouldn't leave her. "Jace!"

There was a scuffle and then Clary saw Jace's hair. "Clary, please, I'm fine."

"Jace," she growled, and he clambered over to her reluctantly. Clary nestled up against him and frowned. "I don't care about you being brave; I care about having you with me."

Jace rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. Simon came in next, and then they heard a fierce growl, and Derek pushed his way in. The fort was very suddenly full with all six bodies pressing together. Derek had grabbed Chloe and tucked her onto his lap, lips curled back in a snarl. His eyes were very wolf, their pupils turned up wildly. Tori had fallen back by Jace and Clary, breathing hard, and Simon was closest to the entrance, stuffing the blanket Clary had brought into the mouth.

For a minute they heard nothing. The children were in dark warmth, breathing in each other's fear. They were pressing against each other, tense and waiting. It really was like a rabbit hole, the air so thick with the waiting terror of a hunted rabbit.

Then the silence was broken by a curt cough.

"Davidoff," Simon breathed.

They heard him strolling through the nursery, laughing at the toys splayed out. He kicked something out of the way, and then began to approach their fort. As one, all six of the children crawled backward, pressing as far back as they could. Jace and Derek wrapped themselves around Chloe and Clary. They waited for Davidoff to pull the fort apart and laugh at them.

He didn't.

"Children," he said, and they could hear the smile in his voice. "I know you're in there. We can see you. There is a camera in this room." He paused and Clary was strangely paralyzed by fear. Was he going to drag Jace away? Was he going to make her do something she didn't want to? Were they all about to be taken to a laboratory to be experimented on? "I'm not going to hurt you; I won't even try and get you out of there. I want you to be relaxed, and if you feel safe in there, well, then that's how it will be. That's why we have you in here. You're supposed to feel safe. If you want to make this whole room into a fort, do it. No one will stop you." Again, he paused, this time to cough. The sound grated Chloe's ears, unnerving her. "Tomorrow I'd like to take you to see the rest your the quarters, but it can wait. We'll feed you today in here, in about an hour, and there is a bathroom you can use if you'd like. There's a door by the bookshelves. Relax and enjoy yourselves, I'll see you tomorrow."

Dr. Davidoff left as simply as he had come, but the aftershocks of his arrival swept through the children. They remained tucked in their fort, eyes wide and mouths forming silent words. None of them knew why they were so frightened, though Derek suspected it might have been the drugs wearing off, but they decided to cover the hole completely with the blanket and spend the rest of the day there. Away from the prying eyes of the camera and the doctors, they could curl up in fear, overcoming the drug that was fighting to hold them.