Hey Guys! Thanks for reading my stories and commenting on them. I love reading the comments. I am getting a few "please continue"s and don't fret darlings, I'm working on it. The more comments there are, the more incentive I have to write. Sometimes, it takes me a little while to write the next chapter because of a small writer's block, or I'm busy, but bare with me. I like writing these stories, and the comments make it 10x better, so please keep reading and commenting! Thank you!

Jace couldn't sleep. He was tossing and turning, twisting the sheets around him. "Ughhh," moaned Jace. He sat up and decided to go get something to drink from the kitchen. He was trotting downstairs when he noticed that it was getting colder and colder the more he descended. His eyebrows furrowed. He kept going. He turned the corner towards the main hall and stopped. The doors were wide open. He squinted his eyes and saw that there was a shape at the foot of the door. As he moved closer, he realized it wasn't just a blob, it was a girl. He ran towards her. She must be a Shadowhunter, Jace thought. No one other than a Shadowhunter can open these doors. She had flaming red hair that was growing wet from the pool of blood that surrounded her. He got up and rang the emergency bell. When this bell is rung, everyone in the Institute gets up and congregates in the main hall to address the emergency. Jace dropped back down on his knees and searched for the source of blood. He realized she had been holding it, before her hand had went limp. In a few seconds, he heard the others' footsteps growing closer as they ran down the stairs. Isabelle was first, then Alec, then Maryse. They bolted towards Jace.

"What happened?" Isabelle asked.

"I-I don't know. I came down for drink and found the doors open with her on the ground. Guys… there's a lot of blood."

"Let's get her to the infirmary," said Maryse, "and I'll call the Silent Brothers." Jace nodded, and then scooped the girl up into his arms. She so light, Jace thought. He rushed her to the infirmary with Alec and Isabelle on his heels. He laid her down on the bed.

"Here. Press this on the wound to help stop the bleeding," said Alec, who handed him a towel. The towel was quickly soaking through with blood.

"Ughh. She's bleeding way too much. Alec, keep the towels coming," spoke Jace. Maryse ran in.

"The Silent Brothers are on their way. Just a few more minutes," promised Maryse.

"Maryse, I don't know if she'll make it. She's bleeding way too much," Jace replied. "Can I try giving her an iratze? The doors were open, which means that a Shadowhunter opened them. She was the only one out there, and I'm guessing none of you opened it. Which means that she has Shadowhunter blood." He looked at Maryse for an answer.

"I don't know Jace. That's a big risk. What if she isn't one? She could die."

"She's dying already Maryse. I mean look at her. Her lips are turning blue, her skin is paling by the second. She's going to die anyways if we don't do anything right now."

"Al-Alright," said Maryse hesitantly. "Let's give it a try." She handed Jace her stele. He lifted her shirt up a little, ever so gently, and drew an iratze right above the wound. It started healing instantly. Jace exhaled, as if he had been holding his breath in hope that it would work. Soon it was just a thin scar.

"I'll call the Silent Brothers and tell them they don't have to come then," maryse said. She left the room. Then Jace noticed something else. She was covered in bruises and scars.

"Guys, look at this. She has bruises and cut marks all over her body. I-I think she was abused," Jace whispered, as they disappeared due to the iratze. Even though he didn't know this girl, he felt a twinge of sorrow and regret, as if maybe he could've have found her earlier and saved her from whoever had hurt her.

.o.O.o.

Clary had been slipping in and out of consciousness ever since she collapsed on the steps of the cathedral. She remembered falling, and the next thing she remembered was a boy who looked like pure gold leaning over her. Then she remembered a bunch of other faces above her, and the sensation of being picked up and carried. She had tried to say something, but had blacked out again.

Now, she was slowly trying to open her eyes. Clary didn't know how much time had passed since she had arrived at the front of the church, but she figured it couldn't have been long because it was still dark out. She was finally able to peel her eyes open and look around her. She was in a bed identical to those around her. Her clothes had been changed, now a white shirt and pants, but there was still blood in her hair, so she hadn't been bathed, which relieved her. The thought of someone else cleaning her while she was completely unconscious freaked her out, as it would anyone.

She then suddenly remembered the pain that had laced her side earlier that night, and him holding the bloody knife as blood gushed from his ribs. She scrabbled to lift her shirt up and was shocked to find that the wound was completely gone, the only evidence it ever existed in the thin scar on her side. Above it was a strange tattoo. Along with this, all of her bruises had disappeared. She was utterly bewildered. Her head was buzzing with unanswered questions.

She decided to look around more. The room she was in was pretty long, and it had high ceilings. As she looked closer, there were paintings on the ceiling. The largest one an angel rising out of a lake holding some sort of cup and sword. She got up and walked towards the door. She opened it as quietly as she could and crept out. She went downstairs and saw a dining room, which meant there had to be a kitchen close by. She was starving. She walked a little ways and found the kitchen. She opened the fridge and found some cold pasta, an apple, and some butter for the bread that was on the counter. She pulled all of it out and found a fork and a knife, not bothering to look for a plate. She was in the middle of stuffing her face with bread and butter when she heard someone coming. She ducked down behind the island. She peeked around the corner and saw the golden boy. He was about to open the fridge when he realized that there was already food out. He looked around and saw her green eyes and red hair peeking around the corner. He smiled. It was the most gentle smile anyone had ever given her. "There's no need to hide," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you." She stood up slowly. He looked at her curiously. "What's your name?" She didn't answer, just looked at him with eyes wide with fear. Why should I trust you?, she thought. I don't even know you… but I have so many questions. He pushed the food she had gotten out towards her. She took it willingly. Then he turned around and got a large container out. It had chocolate cake in it. Clary couldn't remember the last time she had had chocolate cake. Her stomach growled audibly. He looked at her and saw her glance from the chocolate cake, to his face, and back. He smiled crookedly and handed her a piece. "You must be starving, after losing that much blood that is," he said. "What happened to you?" he asked, concern creasing his eyebrows and sorrow filling his amber eyes. She didn't answer him. "I understand you're scared, and you don't know who I am or where you are, but I can't help you if you won't talk to me." He sighed when she still didn't respond. "Okay, at least tell me your name." After a few beats of silents he added, "Please?" She hesitantly nodded.

"I'm Clary, Clary Fairchild," she said, her voice raspy from not talking for a while. He smiled again, but bigger this time.

"Hi Clary. I'm Jace Herondale."