Hi guys! Hope everyone had a great thanksgiving! Here is chapter 2

All credits to Cassandra Clare

Alec smiled as Luke slid into the booth across from him at the Hunter's moon. He had asked Luke to meet him only a few hours prior and he wasn't sure if he would be able to. To be honest, a piece of him hoped he would be to busy. How do you tell someone that they might have run into their dead "adoptive" daughter? If that wasn't an an awkward conversation starter, than Alec didn't know what was. Well not awkward, painful. Or even disrespectful. No, hurtful or- "Quit ranting" Alec muttered under his breath. It was a bad nervous habit he had and right now it was even worse than usual. Luke looked up from his notepad quizzically, casting a strange glance in his direction "You all right Alec?" Alec chuckled nervously, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then placed his clasped hands on the table. " Umm... Luke? There something you should know."

Luke lay awake. It was 2 o'clock in the morning. The rising sun was beginning to cast its rays through the silk curtains and shadows began to slowly crawl along his bedroom walls. He couldn't stop thinking- imagining. The last few months had been hell. Pure, absolute, hell. He had lost the last person he had left. And it stung. It tore him apart. He hid it, he swallowed his pain because there were so many people that he had to be there for- so many that he couldn't barely even be there for himself. He would wake up every morning in his silent, eerie home and close his eyes, straining his ears to find the soft patter of her footsteps, or the vibration of her music playing through the walls. He never found it. Everyday after work he would dread coming back to home. It was haunted with memories of Jocelyn and Clary; something had happened in every room, things that made him smile or laugh despite the blur of the tears in his eyes. Clary had always been more than just Jocelyn's daughter; she was his daughter too. And he couldn't save her.

But now... Luke shifted again in his bed, his sheets twisting around his legs. He hoped Alec was right, of course he did. But something felt wrong. It was like they were missing a vital piece of the puzzle, the piece that connected all the dots. Luke knew Clary, probably better than almost anyone else, and he knew that disappearing like that... it just wasn't like her. Luke turned to his nightstand and lifted the photograph that sat there. It was an old photo - must have been from several years ago. He smiled down at it sadly and gently traced over each one of them- first Jocelyn, them himself, and finally Clary, his finger lingering there for an extra second. He placed the picture back on the nightstand, and once again lay down. It didn't matter, he decided, it didn't matter that there was something awfully awry in this situation. It didn't matter that it shouldn't be possible. It didn't even matter that there was a possibility Alec was mistaken and it wasn't even her. Clary might be out there and Luke would do everything in his power to bring her back home.