Hello again! For those who was wondering, this comes a few years after City of Glass and Jace and Clary have been together for years. Thank you for the nice reviews - you two guys made me smile. :) Just a quick warning: This chapter is filled with angst and sad moments. I hope you enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: Once again, I don't own these characters - never have and never will.

The wall kept my spine straight as I pressed my back to it, listening. Murmurs and soft cries were coming from the inside of the room and my heart ached to hear such uncertainty.

"Mom, I don't know if I can do this. I really don't. I love Jace more than life and everything but -" Clary's voice softly drifted over to me. 'But'? Why was there a 'but'? Our love was supposed to be enough to live off of, wasn't it? I had always been so sure of myself.

There was silence from which I guessed Jocelyn was giving her opinion to her daughter over the phone. I desperately wanted to burst in and show her that I was there, tell her that I had heard every backstabbing comment she had made. It was her fault, my mind was telling me, her fault that things were turning out the way they were.

"Yeah, I get it. Maybe moving in with Jace wasn't the best move I've ever made…" My heart froze mid-beat. The eyes she could not see were widening I had told Simon to take me to the Institute yesterday after my rough night that was not where Clary and I lived. A month previous, we had moved in together in a little apartment downtown. I was guessing she was beginning to regret such a thing. "But it definitely was not the worst. Maybe we're just going through a rough spot." I let out the breath I hadn't known I was holding.

"No, no Mom. You listen." Her tone was getting edgier and more agitated and the silences of her voice got shorter and shorter until it was just Clary practically yelling at her mother. I flinched as her voice went up an octave. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions! I phoned because I needed somebody that would understand. Simon wouldn't understand – do you think he's ever had a boyfriend? Aren't people supposed to turn to their mothers when they're in need of help? That's what I was trying to do! I wanted you to listen, Mom and the last thing I need right now is criticism!" I could practically hear the tears welling up in her eyes.

"What do you mean it's not as bad as it seems? Is that your idea of motherly advice?" I imagined her sitting on the bed; her small legs tucked under her as she clutched a pillow to her chest with one hand and cradled the phone to her ear with the other. Her hair would be up and about, her eyes glowing with the fight. "I get enough crap about this already and now my own mother is practically telling me to either grab a flight to Las Vegas and get married or ditch the man! I can't believe you! Fine. Bye." There was an almost inaudible click on the other side of the wall as Clary hung up. I stared off at nothing, my head empty spare for the continuous cycle of her last words.

There were sobs echoing around as I pushed myself away from my eavesdropping spot. Without a second thought, I walked into the room. The door creaked with the force when I opened it, causing the red-faced girl to look up from her spot with her head mashed into the pillow.

Was I supposed to say sorry? I did not know but it didn't seem right to do so. Instead, I loped over and sat next to her, placing a hand on the small of her back. My thumb rubbed the small circles, making creases and smoothing them out over and over and over again.

"Did you hear all that?" Her fragile words floated over, playing with the drums in my ears. I nodded, with a small grunt to show the affirmative. She flipped over to her stomach, able to look at my face now.

"I don't know who she thinks she is, I guess." Clary stared at me, long and hard, urging me to look away. Even if I had wanted to, I did not. Her face, so startlingly pale with a blush that contrasted so beautifully, was captivating and alluring. Her hair was a mess, she wore no makeup and her cheeks were streaked with tears – but she was still as gorgeous as ever.

"I think she thinks she's your mom." I joked lightly, attempting a brief smile. I was relieved when she returned it. I was about to make myself comfortable over top of her but she spoke before I could move my mouth to hers.

"That doesn't give her the right to own me." She propped herself up on her elbows, letting her head lean back towards the warmth of the mattress. I leaned over and pressed my cool lips to her forehead and pulled away just quick enough to see her wrinkle her nose.

"What?"

"You haven't shaved for a while. It prickled."

I chuckled and ran a hand along the length of my jaw. It felt strange and unnatural – like petting a fish. The texture was different than what you were used to.

"What did she say, though? I didn't hear everything." It was true. I had just gotten back from another stroll downtown and this one had left me in much higher spirits. They were starting to evaporate, though, after all the stuff I had heard.

"She thought that, since I won't marry you, I should leave you." Clary's eyes flickered back and forth, focusing on everything but the person she was talking to. I gritted my teeth, angry that her mother would say such a thing. Still, it left me with the question I had been repeatedly asking myself and her for the past week.

"Why won't you marry me?" Still, she wouldn't meet my eyes. I could hear her heart beating with every slow, steady breath she took. Finally, she answered my question.

"I'm just not ready." I had known she was going to say that. It's what she had said word-for-word each and every time I had asked. I sighed internally but the outside me raged. We had been together for years and expressed our love millions of times in millions of ways. How could she not be ready for this simple step?

"Is there someone else? Is that it?" The conclusion had been drawn up lazily one night when I had been thinking about all of our recent arguments and disagreements. I had never even thought about questioning her about it, fearing what she would say. I was not afraid of her reaction, I was afraid of her answer.

"Oh my god! Are you really that insecure?" Clary's eyes snapped into place, staring at me with the highest level of intensity. I shivered as she had not looked at me with such ferocity for the longest time.

"Well, why else won't you marry me? Who is he? I swear to the Angel I will rip his guts out by his nostrils." My hands curled into tight fists at my sides as I quivered with my rage. All I could see beyond my eyelids was a faceless stranger holding my red-haired lover, kissing her, doing stuff that I had been limited of for the past weeks.

"You have to believe me!" she cried, covering her face with her hands. "There is no one else!"

"Then marry me, god damn it!" I snarled, my lips emotionless lines that pressed together just to make sound. I wanted her so badly I could taste it yet she still denied me of the only thing that would put all our worries to rest.

"I can't! I just can't!" Clary jumped up and sprinted out of the room, her hair flowing like a cape behind her. I hung my head as I got up, preparing for more mindless wandering.

The night air was a cold slap in the face. I had already spent most of my day and night outside but it had considerably cooled while I was inside. Perhaps it was just me and the adjusting of my body. I laughed at that possibly – no, that would make it my fault. There always had to be somebody else to blame.

I had chosen a light leather jacket to adorn me as I strolled through the night. The air was brisk and the wind smooth and almost inviting. Where was one to go when there was was no one that wanted him? I knew I always had a home in the Institute – after all, it was every Shadowhunter's sanctuary – but I could tell that Alec had had enough of all my whining and moping. I had just steered clear of all the other people.

"Looking for someone, nutmeg?" A crisp voice said, emerging from the darkness. I turned on my heel, looking for the body to the words. There was no one there. Slowly, I slithered over to the closest alley and pressed myself against the bricks. After a second of silence, I turned around and punched into the pitch black but connected with nothing.

Somebody laughed at the way I was making a fool of myself. I spun around again, arms at the ready. For some strange reason, it was putting a smile on my face. I had actually heard a genuine laugh. It felt strange after so long without that lovely sound.

"It's a game of cat and mouse, love. See if you can find me." The voice was so familiar but I could not place it. I racked my brain for something, anything that would tell me who it was.

"I'm sick of games. Come out here." A tap on my shoulder made me turn around to face the empty air in front of me. Maybe it had just been my imagination, no matter how sure I was that I had felt something.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are." I singsonged, my mouth lifted in a coy smile. I was on the prowl, looking for this intruder to my private moping. There was another tinkle of oh-so-familiar laughter before there were no sounds at all.

"No, you're the one that has to come out." The person spoke, their words coming from all sides at once. "You're always hiding in yourself. It's like right now – you're just reaching into corners where you'll find nothing."

"Who are you?" I shouted, flailing my arms out. Anybody that would have seen me must have thought that I was absolutely insane. I wasn't so sure either, by then. My eyes started to tear up as the full impact of me and Clary's heated discussion came back to me. In the middle of the dirty, trash-filled streets of down New York, I sat down, my head buried in my hands.

"Whoa, nutmeg, no need to cry. I was only having a little fun." I felt a hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me to no avail. I hid my face, not wanting to let this person see my distress.

"Just go away." My words were muffled by the blockage in front of my mouth but they were easy enough to understand. Those three little words were sometimes as powerful as 'I love you'. Sometimes they did as much damage.

"No."

I looked up. "No?" When somebody was obviously upset and wanted to be alone, you were not supposed to say 'no'. Then, I knew who I was talking to. It made sense – the way he was fooling with me, the nicknames, the voice.

"Magnus, what are you doing here?" This was twice in two days I had run into people that came upon me at my worst moments. No – this was twice in two days that I had been purposefully sought out whenever I was losing it.

"Isn't it obvious?" He said, flicking his wrist towards me. I was now in no mood for any more of his tomfoolery. I wasn't in the mood for anything, let alone a homosexual warlock.

I stared at him, lifting an eyebrow with the edges of my lips set into a close-lipped frown. "Magnus, go to Alec or something. Don't you have some schmoozing to do in your bedroom with him?"

"Oh, no no no! That won't do!" Magnus pulled out a pad of paper from the pocket of his too-tight pants. Jace didn't even try to question how he had managed to fit it in there. He licked his thumb and started flipping through pages. "Nope, schmoozing with Alec isn't on until three o'clock tomorrow. So I'm free right now." He smirked at me, his cat-like eyes unwavering.

"Magnus -" I started, standing up and brushing myself off. I was just going to walk away, plain and simple.

"No no no! See, I'm not trying to frustrate you!" He grabbed my arm as I turned away, his sharp nails digging in rather painfully. "I'm here to help you."

"I don't think there's anything you can -" I froze mid-sentence. "Yeah, maybe there is something you can do." I turned to face him, the thoughts whirled around in my brain. "You don't have, like, a conscience or anything, right?"

He crossed his arms, raising his thin eyebrows at me. "I may be part demon but I'm not all evil."

I rolled my eyes, preparing to leave once more. "Are you going to help or not, warlock? I don't have time for this." He didn't need to know that I had all the time in the world and more.

"If you're trying to kill Clary off so you can womanize other people without her having to cry herself to sleep every night because you left her, nothing doing. I'm not that bad, even for moi."

"What? No. Do you have some sort of spell to change her mind or something?" I watched as his brows furrowed together.

"I do." Those two words stopped my breath. Would he do what I wanted?

"... Do you have a spell to erase somebody's memory?" I was mentally crossing my fingers.

"That I do." He offered no more on the subject, choosing simply to stare me down, questioning with his eyes whether I would do something to get what I wanted or the right thing.

"Tell me. Are you in?" I put my hand out, waiting for his to fill it with a shake.

"As much as I like you, Shadowhunter, - which isn't a lot, for the record – I never said I would hurt someone to help you. There has to be another way to get you out of your depressive slump."

"If you can't help me the way I want you to, I'm gone." With that, I turned to once again leave. My mind was already chastising me for not having left earlier. I was just getting myself into stuff that would end badly.

"You're going about this the wrong way, Jace! And you wonder why she won't marry you!" Magnus shouted after me, his words leaving me cold.

I wandered around, every single thing making me feel worse than I had. Things were not going my way at all. If Magnus was not going to help me, then I was going to have to go to someone that would.

I found a phone booth and went in, slipping two mundane quarters into the little money slot before putting the cool metal to my ear. Beeps followed as I pressed each small button.

"Hello?"

"This is Mr. Morgerstern. I need your help and I'm willing to do anything to get it. So listen up."

Thank you so much for reading - or at least making it this far! Reviews are welcomed with open arms, as are suggestions. The next chapter should be up ... whenever I finish writing it. Soon, I believe!

- Kay.