Learning to Live
Disclaimer: The Mortal Instrument series belongs to Cassandra Clare.
Chapter 2
The High Warlock of Brooklyn
Adele Verona sat in the chair beside the bed and ran the paddle brush through her charge's long red curls. She gently brushed away the tangles and set her hair to the left of her neck. She sat back and looked at the beautiful redhead that she owed so much too. If it weren't for the gentle rise and fall of her chest, Adele would believe her dead. It was a genuine fear. She shuddered as she recalled the amount of healing runes Isaac had drawn onto her skin. To have that many…the injuries must have been numerous and severe.
"Let's get you changed out of those rumpled clothes, yeah?" She asked her to distract herself. At first, changing her had been a struggle. Now, it came as second nature. She took off the old blue T-shirt-being mindful of the IV attached to her arm-and sleep plants; easily, she changed her into a pair of grey stretchy sleep pants and a white, baggy T-shirt. At first, she had chosen this attire out of necessity. It was all she had in that size. Then, it became wanting her to be comfortable. She gathered the girl's hair into her hands and pulled it out from underneath the T-shirt. "I'm going to start your exercises now…" She talked to her as she lifted up one foot. She pushed it toward the sleeping girl's chest and repeated that motion thirty times. Like with the hair brushing, Adele did this every day. It was important, she knew, to help her keep muscle mass. It would be easier for her when she did awake.
What Adele didn't know was that the girl could hear, feel, and taste everything. She could feel the muscle in her legs and arms tightening and relaxing with every exercise. She could feel the tugging of her hair as Adele brushed the tangles out; she could feel the soft cotton of the clothes she had dressed her in and the cold of the fluids being pumped into her through the IV; but she couldn't say thank you. She couldn't even move. There were many times over the past two years that she had tried to move anything. A twitch of her eyebrow, a twitch of her big toe, but no matter how much her brain sent the signals nothing moved.
'Thank you for taking care of me all this time,' she thought toward Adele who was steadily chatting away about her life as she moved each limb. 'Thank you for keeping me sane.'
It was when she was left alone that she thought of them. The people from her life before the coma. It had been two years since she had seen them. Were they still thinking of her, searching for her? Maybe they had given up. But, no, she knew they hadn't. Her mother, at least, would never give up searching.
Her face flashed suddenly before her closed lids. She saw her mother worn and tired, staring down into a black coffee cup. Sitting beside her was the man that she long claimed as her father. His hand wrapped around her free one, but they weren't smiling or even laughing as they had in her life. He simply flicked solemnly through the newspaper while her mother stared down into her coffee. Though she knew it wasn't real-there was no way she could possibly be looking in on their lives, it still hurt her.
"Oh…" She heard Adele suddenly coo. There was a sweep of soft fabric across her cheeks. "Shhh. Don't cry, little Strawberry." Since they had no way of knowing her name, both siblings called her by nickname. Isaac called her Angel. She liked Adele's nickname for her more; Angel just made her feel strange. "Isaac said this lead might be our lucky break. The High Warlock of Brooklyn," her heart skipped a beat, "will surely know how to wake you up. I mean you don't reach that kind of position and not know a lot of things, right?"
'Magnus!'
Magnus Bane looked up from the White Book as he registered the buzzing of his front door. He waved his hand as he stood from the comfortable, red armchair. The White Book returned to its hiding place. He walked over to his door and pressed the button.
"Who is it?" He demanded.
"My name is Isaac Verona. Are you Magnus Bane?" Magnus rolled his cat like eyes and sighed.
"Yes," he answered impatiently.
"I found a girl two years ago," Magnus blinked, wondering what this girl had to do with it, "and she hasn't opened her eyes once." Isaac had his interest now. Clearly, her sleep was not natural. True, he had heard that when mundanes were injured their body found ways to heal them by putting them in a deep sleep-a coma. Of course, this girl could have been injured so severely; yet for this man to be come to him suggested otherwise. "I was told that you may know a way to revive her." And there it was. Isaac clearly believed that the cause of such a sleep was otherworldly. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Come on up then, Mr. Verona," Magnus said. He didn't allow his hopes to go up. In the first year, he had taken so many calls about girls, injuries, and memory loss that he had lost count. Each time he had hoped the girl was Clary and each time he had been let down. He had even tried locator spells, but nothing ever happened. That could mean three things: 1) she didn't want to be found, 2) she was dead, or 3) someone or something was blocking him. The third could technically route back to number one. He prayed that option one was not the case. If he somehow found her and she didn't want to be a part of their world anymore, he didn't think Jace Herondale-Lightwood-Wayland (whatever he went by now) could walk away from her. Not again. Isabelle Lightwood, too, would fight tooth and nail to keep her in their world. Alec…now, his love was a mystery. Magnus could never tell just what Alec felt toward Clary.
And if she was dead…well. It would destroy many people-Jace, Jocelyn….and in extension to Jace, Alec and Isabelle. Option two was the one that Magnus both feared and expected. While the others admirably believed that she was that she was still out there somewhere, Magnus had his suspicions. Clary wouldn't let the people she loved go two years believing her dead. If she was simply being held out there somewhere, he knew that she would fight tooth and nail to return to them. And, he knew, that she would have managed to find a way by now. If she just didn't want to be a part of their world, she wouldn't shut out Simon and her parents. No, as horrible as it felt to him, the young girl he had known since she was two was probably dead.
A quick knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts. He opened it easily and tried not to laugh at the complete and utter shock that washed over the face of Isaac Verona. Magnus looked down at what he was wearing. In all honestly, he had toned it down today. He wore a simple pair of black pants and a bright green, zebra print button up shirt.
The moment the man stepped over the threshold, Magnus noticed a few things about him. He was Shadowhunter and the dark rings underneath his eyes said that he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in years. Possibly since finding the girl two years ago.
"You say she hasn't opened her eyes in two years?" He questioned by way of greeting. Isaac nodded. "Can you tell me how this happened?" Isaac ran a hand through his shoulder length black hair and sighed.
"She was bleeding heavily when she stumbled upon me; I had gotten into a battle with demons. I was dying from the poison; she healed me with two runes. An iratze and another one that I didn't recognize. It…purged the demons' poisons from my body…" Magnus glanced up at him quickly. No rune existed that could purge demon poison from the body. 'Unless…you know the language of the angels…' He thought slowly. 'Only one woman-child I know of could do that. Clarissa Fray.' He refused the emotion that was bubbling up within him. He wouldn't hope. "Then she passed out on me. I tried to heal her with iratzes…but she wouldn't wake up. I lifted her into my arms-thinking she would wake up soon-and followed her blood trail. There I found the man she had been battling-dead, face down in the clearing-with this in his hand," he pulled a syringe out of his pocket. "I think he was going to use this in case he got severely injured. It would let his body recover while he slept, but she somehow got injected with it. She's so much smaller than him…it wouldn't surprise me if the amount overdosed her and that's why she hasn't woken up." Magnus nodded. Suddenly, the small syringe lit up blue. Isaac stood in silence as he waited for the warlock to assess the syringe. After a minute, the syringe returned to its normal color and the warlock turning his cat like eyes to him.
"I've made this cure before…" he said. Isaac's dark green eyes lit up. Immediately, he smiled. Magnus smiled slightly in return. "It shouldn't be too hard to make again." He paused. "I just ask that I be the one to give it to her. To make sure nothing goes wrong." Isaac nodded.
Simon curled deeper underneath the covers. The date flickered at him on the clock. His throat tightened; he swallowed back the pain and attempted to beat back the tears. This day was always the hardest for everyone involved. He had to meet Jocelyn and the others for a solemn gathering to celebrate Clary. She would have turned eighteen today. Maybe somewhere out there, she is.
He tried so hard to maintain the positive outlook that Isabelle, Jace, and Alec had, but he couldn't stop thinking of how afraid she must be. How alone she must feel. What if she was crying out for him? Crying out for Jace to save her? Waiting for them? He lost his composure, turned his face into his pillow, and cried.
His heart was bleeding for his best friend and first love. The only thing that had kept him holding on to hope, holding on period had been Isabelle.
"What?" He whispered as he processed what she had just told him. Clary, his best friend, was missing. Had gone missing while he sat in a jail cell. His only thought during that time was that she was safe in the mundane world. She was safe away from the Clave. Only to find out that all of those thoughts had been wrong when Jace freed him. Isabelle touched his cheek softly. It was in that moment that he realized he had started to cry.
"Simon…" Isabelle muttered sadly. He felt her arms wrap around his back. Her wrists locked together. His legs gave up supporting him. He fell. Isabelle fell with him. Her arms never leaving him. She rocked him back and forth.
He felt water hitting his shoulder and he knew that she was crying too.
X
"Simon?" She called softly as she stepped into his bedroom. He sat huddled in the corner of the room. The dark circles underneath his eyes and the sickly pallor to his skin told her of his state. She knew the signs when a vampire went without feeding; he knew that, yet he couldn't force himself to drink when Clary was gone. "Simon…" Isabelle breathed. His brown eyes flicked up from his arms to see her kneeling in front of him. "You can't do this to yourself. Clary wouldn't want-"
"She's not here, is she?" He snapped. His voice dry and hoarse from neglecting himself. Isabelle's jaw twitched. Suddenly, she struck him across the face. His head snapped to the side.
"You listen to me, Simon Lewis, you WILL NOT waste away like this. Clary deserves to have her best friend to come home too." He looked away from her. She grabbed his chin and forced his eyes back to hers. "And she will come home. Don't you dare think for a moment she is gone because then you are truly doing her a disservice." He lowered his eyes from hers.
"I don't think I can stand up…" He admitted pathetically. He saw her body move away from him. He thought that she left until he heard the swish of the refrigerator door open. A second later the smell of blood filled the room. His stomach rolled painfully. A small whimper broke from his lips. Isabelle returned to him quickly. She extended the glass to him.
"I'm not going anywhere," she reassured his earlier worry. "Someone has to make sure your dumb ass doesn't do this again."
He hung onto the memory of her promise and her fiery protectiveness. Knowing that she would be by later gave him the strength to climb out of bed. After all, he didn't want to be drug out of bed by his feet again.
Magnus followed Isaac into his sister's apartment. The place was beautifully designed. A glass coffee table sat in the middle of the living room floor; it was surrounded by a red couch and two red armchairs. There was no fireplace or television. Instead, there was a long bookshelf. It wasn't just filled with books however; there was a vase filled with roses and a small angel knickknack. It looked most like a mundane home. He followed Isaac through the living room and down the hall. The walls of the hallway were free of pictures or paintings, but he could feel the warmth emitting from the apartment. This apartment was a place someone loved and took care of. Isaac didn't speak as he led him to a door at the end of the hall. It was open wide. Isaac let Magnus go in first. Magnus' eyes first focused on the woman who sat up beside the bed. Like the man who stood next to him, she had dark black hair-but her eyes were the most interesting shade of blue and grey mixed.
"You must be the High Warlock of Brooklyn," she stood from the chair and smoothed down the light blue summer dress she wore.
"I am," Magnus confirmed. He saw the same hope in her eyes that he had seen in Isaac's.
"I'm Adele. Thank you for coming," she said honestly. She stepped aside from the bed and rested her hand on the nightstand. "This is our little Strawberry." Magnus' eyes flicked to the girl the moment Adele moved away. His breathe froze in his lungs.
"Clarissa…" He breathed. His shock held him immobile. He couldn't take a step toward the bed. The girl that he had thought was dead laid in front of him; the girl that everyone was searching for lay in front of him. Adele stepped forward worriedly.
"Sir?" She called, not knowing his name. "Are you alright?" Isaac however had a different ideal and spoke over his sister.
"You know her?" Isaac asked. Magnus didn't look away from Clary; he simply nodded. Slowly, his shock melted into dumbfounded relief. The years he had spent blaming himself for not seeing her back to city seemed to wash away as he looked into her sleeping face.
"We've been searching for her…non-stop for two years…" He breathed. He shook his head in disbelief. "All this time…she was right here in Brooklyn." He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. He didn't look over but the hand clearly belonged to Adele.
"You've found her now," Adele said softly. "And you're probably going to be the first person she sees when she opens those beautiful eyes." She squeezed his shoulder gently and let her hand fall back from him. Magnus smiled softly, but his mind betrayed his seeming enthusiasm.
It was as he was reaching into his pocket for the bottle that his catlike eyes locked on the contraption on her arm. The tubing ran up to the bag just above her bed. His eyes narrowed.
"What is that?" He asked. He had seen the IV attached to Jocelyn in the hospital, but this certainly wasn't a hospital. It was a little apartment on the upside of Brooklyn. Adele followed his gaze and smiled softly.
"It's just fluids to keep her from dehydrating. I've been giving her broth over the years, but it's not enough nutrients. So, IV." He looked over at her suspiciously. Adele rolled her eyes and shifted onto her left foot. Her hand came up to her hip. He recognized it as the international "annoyed woman" sign. "I'm a nurse at the local hospital. I know what I'm doing."
'This woman has been taking care of her for two years,' a voice reminded him, 'Do you really think she would have spent this much time on her if she wanted her dead?' The voice eerily sounded like his love. A small smile ticked onto his lips for a moment before he remembered the annoyed woman beside him.
"I'm sorry," he apologized. It tasted foreign on his lips, but even he could realize when he was wrong. He turned his attention back to Clary and tried not to think of everyone that should be here as he pulled the plug from the bottle. He stepped forward and put his thumb and forefinger on her chin. He pulled her lips apart gently and poured the substance into her mouth. He reached down to her throat, prepared to message the concoction down, when she swallowed. He stepped away from her slowly. After a few minutes, she began to move.
(A/N: Thank you guys for the follows, reviews, and favorites! Anyways, I would have this chapter posted Sunday, but I spent my entire day in the hospital. Good thing too (both for my health and the story), because it made me realize I had some holes here. For instance, if she had spent two years in a vegetative state, she would need more than just a little bit of water and broth.)
