Hi! I was extremely busy today, but I tried to do as much as I could for you all- and I already started working on chapter 3, which will likely be the last one.

Disclaimer- When I first watched the final scene, I imagined Jace sitting Clary down and telling her everything. However, the more I've thought about it the less likely it becomes. From what I've come to understand about Jace's character is that it doesn't seem fitting for him to shove the memories "down Clary's throat" For instance, I believe that he would want them to return naturally as possible. I think he would want Clary to remember on her own, and then com back to him and the life they used to have, even though it would have been extremely difficult. I know there are many different opinions on the "what happens next?", but I truly believe that this is what would have been.

Also, I apologize for the cliffhanger but those who have read any of my other stories know that its what i do best

Thank you so much for reading, and please let me know what you think

Stay tuned for next chapter (hopefully tomorrow or the day after)

Clary lay awake. Her eyes burned with exhaustion but she couldn't fall asleep. The evening spun in circles in her mind and she couldn't stop watching.

"What's that tattoo on your neck?" She asked, touching her fingertips to the mark snaking along his collarbone. He smiled at her, timidly at first, then full on- transforming his entire face. He looked younger, happier, and...extremely familiar. She shook her head and gently removed her hand, "Who are you? Why...why do I know you.?" He looked at her for a long moment, as if debating whether to tell her the truth.

"Clarissa Fray?" She heard a voice call out from the back of the alley. She turned around, slightly irritated. It was the head of the Art Department. "We are clearing out now. Please load your pieces into the truck." Clary nodded and smiled, "Sure. Just give me a minute"

She turned back to face him, an apology just barely rolling off her tongue, but alas- there was no one to apologize to. The man she knew she knew was gone.

Clary shifted under her blanket uncomfortably Why did he leave? why didn't he tell me the truth? It was unnerving, this beautiful, beautiful boy- that she knew- wouldn't tell her why she knew him. "Jace" She whispered to herself "Jace, Jace, Jace." His name felt so right to her. It was as if it belonged on her lips and on her mind, like it was a piece of Clary that she had somehow forgotten behind. "Who are you Jace? And why do I feel connected to you?'

OOO

Crickets chirped mercilessly through the window across from Jace's bed. The air was heavy indoors and he could feel the sweat rolling down his brow. Each creak and groan from the high ceilings above echoed in his mind, and he could hear every ping of the demon alert from the computer room down the hall. But these were not the factors of Jace's sleepless night. No, they were but a distraction from the many dreams Jace had began to envision.

He warned himself not to get his hopes up. The angels were prone to destroying good things and Jace knew that far too well. The possibilities that the strange evening was just a spur of the moment coincidence- not an actual change in Clary, or that his sleepless nights now led to an overactive imagination, were more likely than Jace would have wished.

But still, he had a reason to rise in the morning, a goal to reach, a future to pursue.

He rose from his bed and moved towards his dresser, sitting down on the hardwood floor and opening a large cardboard box.

There it was-

Thousands and thousands of sketches and letters-snippets of things Clary had left in the institute. Pictures of a young girl hugging her mother from the waist as she cooked dinner, photos of her swinging in the park, or standing proudly in a cap and gown on her graduation day. Some with Luke, some with Simon, some with Izzy.

Jace reached deeper in the box. That sketch. The one of him sleeping with his hair all ruffled and his hands resting under the pillow. There was a heart in the corner of the page where she typically signed her name- a heart and a scribble that read "I love you always"

It was almost a joke to Jace. Always?

Even now Clary?

Even after all this time? Even after all the pain and suffering, all the separation? Even though you hardly know my name and barely recognize my face?

Do you still love me?

OOO

Clary sat upright, letting the bed sheets fall around her waist so only the thin camisole sat upon her bare skin.

It must have been two or three o'clock and yet sleep was still out of reach. She was sick and tired of the unanswered questions. Sick and tired of the strange dreams and familiar faces.

She wished she could find Jace. She wished she knew where he was and she could get the answers she so desperately needed. But she didn't even know his last name, much less where he lived.

So, she did what she always did at times of stress.

She pulled out her art

She began slowly at first- apprehensively. Calculating the distances and the proportions, thinking and measuring. It was a laborious process; healing- yes but time-consuming as well.

But then her head cleared, and the wall in her mind and in her heart began to chip away.

Because she was drawing.

Chords stringing along, fine lines connecting pieces of the broken glass-memories and people she had once loved. Shards of shattered curves and ridges pulling towards one another like magnets. She was not drawing- no, her hand was moving at its on accord, threading her along as patterns began to appear and strange shapes became visible.

When she paused to admire her work, she was taken back

I've seen this before

And then she was moving the pen along her own skin, tracing the picture onto her arm almost possessed-like. She didn't know why she was doing it, she didn't know what had come over her. But just like Jace's name on her lips, she just knew that it belonged there. It was meant to be worn on her skin like an accessory; it was meant to be a piece of her identity.

It would give her the answers she needed, and she was sure of it.

OOO

Jace wiped his stinging eyes and tucked the box back into the draw.

He didn't know what his future entailed. He could never really know.

But she promised she would always love him. And even though the barrier in her mind was very real, at the end of the day- it was only just a barrier.