[Thank you so much to those who reviewed, followed and favorited!]
Clary had been right, her abrupt disappearance had earned her a sharp, stinging slap. But a slap would be the least of her problems once her father finds how a Jew managed to end up in their cellar.
The house was still and silent, the alcohol had induced a deeper than normal sleep in her brother and father. Clary was internally grateful for that as she crept through the halls in the dark, not bothering to get a light yet for fear of getting caught. Clary held her tongue as she groped the walls like a blind person, soon enough her vision adjusted to the dim surrounding.
A quick dash to the kitchen got her half a loaf of stale bread, a pitcher of water and a small first aid kit, things that no one would miss the next day. Clary cringed as the old cellar door gave a small squeak, every small noise seemed louder in the silence. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding once it seemed that no one was getting up.
The cellar smelled dank and musty, of air that was cooped up for a long time. The steps creaked with age and dust flew up into the air with each of Clary's steps. She was thankful their cellar had been deemed too shallow to be used as a proper air raid shelter. That thought dredged up the fearful reminder of what would happen should there be a raid, but she figured she'll cross that bridge when she gets there.
"Who's there?" the boy's voice called out, weak and raspy from disuse.
"Don't worry, it's just me."
Weak moonlight filtered through the dingy window bathed the boy in pale light. He slumped against the dark wall but his quick eyes stayed on Clary as she carefully approached him.
"Here, I… uh… brought some food." She held out the bread, he eyed it warily.
"Don't worry, I haven't poisoned it or anything," Clary assured him.
His hunger must have won over as he lunged for the bread and ravaged it with such speed as if he thought it would be taken away from him at any minute. In a small amount of time he had already polished off the half loaf and quickly turned to the water that Clary had also brought.
"Woah, you should slow down before you make yourself sick." She paused for a moment, "Hold on, I'll be right back."
Clary dashed back up the rickety stairs and eventually came back with some crackers, more water and a few old blankets. She let him finish the extra food before addressing the issue with his leg.
"You need to let me take a look at it. Do you want it to get infected?" Clary wheedled until the boy begrudgingly allowed her treat it.
The boy's clothes were practically falling apart as Clary snipped the pant leg open, peeling off the filthy pieces of cloth. Then cleaning the area as best she could with some of the water she saved before examining the wound. The bullet seemed to have passed right through the leg, it had not been fatal since it hadn't hit any major artery or bone but caused enough damage to make walking quite difficult and painful.
"How… how did you get this?"
The boy gave out a bark of laughter, "How do you think? I got it running away from those rabid Gestapo."
Clary tried the best she could to clean and patch it up, although the stitches were a little clumsy, they should hold well enough. In fairness, the boy held it together quite well even with the occasional wince and flinching.
"Here," Clary handed him the blankets,
"Thank you. I have no idea why you're doing this but… thank you."
A small smile crept on Clary's lips,
"You're welcome…?"
"Simon, my name's Simon."
"You're welcome, Simon. I'm Clary. Now, I should let you rest. I'll try to come back as soon as I can with food and in the meantime please stay quiet."
The boy gave her a small smile and made a zipping gesture over his lips.
Over the past few days Clary would sneak down to the cellar when her father and brother were out or asleep, because of the war they were down to one housekeeper who came around twice a week and they only hired more help when needed, hence Clary had a lot of free time on her hands. So far, no one has yet noticed anything unusual.
"Here," Clary came down one afternoon after her father and brother had left for their work. She was breathless from carrying a pail sloshing with water in one arm and a bundle in the other.
Setting down the water, she threw the bundle at him. "Some of my brother's old clothes, I know it might not be an exact fit but it's the closest I could get right now. And here," she took out a washcloth and set it by the pail "If you're feeling a little grimy."
"Thanks," Simon stood, inspecting the clothes. They were a simple, clean pair of a button up shirt and trousers, though they were clearly made for a taller, bulkier person.
Clary smiled, "I'll leave you to your washing up."
"Clary,"
She turned, that was the first time he actually called her by name.
"Thank you,"
"You're welcome,"
"No, I really mean it. We don't even know each other and you took this risk for me."
"Well, we could fix that."
"Fix what exactly?"
"Not knowing each other. I mean you kind of are living at my house," Clary gestured to their surroundings "I hope maybe we can even be friends."
"Friends," Simon said slowly, as if he were feeling the word out, "I think I'd like that."
Simon and Clary did get more comfortable with each other. Simon finally had someone to actually talk to while Clary had someone who wouldn't give her a nasty look when she said she didn't agree with the garbage the Third Reich was stuffing down people's throats. He got comfortable enough to confess that he used to live in America when he was very young until his father died. He also told of how he got separated from his family when they were on the run and he had a little brush with the Gestapo, hence the gunshot. Clary, in turn, told him of how her mother annulled her father and took her to New York. She told him sadly how her mother got ill, she had to stay with her father and got stuck after the war erupted.
"I haven't been able to send a letter or anything, I don't even know if my mother's alive."
"I know the feeling," he said sadly.
The cellar lit up with mellow yellow light from the afternoon as the two people in the room laughed.
"You didn't!" Clary shrieked, hand flying up to her mouth to stifle her laughter,
"I did! I was what? Six? I honestly asked my neighbor if she ate her baby and that's why her stomach was huge."
The two dissolved in laughter as Simon regaled Clary with his animated storytelling.
"I can't believe you actual—" Clary was cut off when the front bell sounded. The both of them froze.
Clary quickly left to answer the door, ready to tell off whoever it was to come back later. Her words ready as she yanked the door open,
"I'm sorry but you'll have to come ba—"
Her words died as she realized who was standing on her front step.
He was a good length taller than she, broad shouldered and with handsome features. He seemed to be a year or two older than she was. He was all gold, leonine and beautiful. He would have been utterly breathtaking if it wasn't for the SS uniform and the arrogant smirk on his face.
"Can I help you?" Clary snapped,
"Fraulein Morgenstern, I take it?"
He seemed to be too young to be hanging around her father, he must be here for Jonathan then.
"My brother's not home."
"Ah, well, I apologize for disturbing you."
Clary gave a brisk nod and her eyes flitted briefly to his uniform, distaste coloring her expression for a split second. She stretched her mouth into a smile and was about to say goodbye,
"Has my uniform offended you?"
Damn. He caught her look. Her father and her brother had soured the idea of a man in uniform for her, especially that of an SS.
"No—no! I just, uh, I, uh… was remembering something that… I… forgot." Her cheeks started to heat up to her dismay.
That smirk of his widened into a full on smile, a smile of a man who was used to women getting flustered over his looks. Clary wanted to slap it off his face, arrogant jerk!
"Is there anything else?" Clary tried to keep her face straight,
"Could you tell Jonathan that Jace Wayland stopped by?"
Clary nodded, wanting to get this awkward situation over with.
"Oh, and nice meeting you, Fraulein Morgenstern."