Hi again! Thank you for the new reviews/favorites/follows! Just so you know, I won't be able to update this as frequently during the week, due to school, but I'll be working on it!

ALSO, to clear something up: This is NOT a continuous story. It is a series of ONE-SHOTS based on snippets Cassandra Clare has released. :)

I almost cried writing this, by the way.

Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare's, not mine!


SPOILERS in this chapter for Clockwork Princess.

-"Where's Brother Zachariah?"

-"I'm right here...Jace Herondale. And once more a Herondale is the object of my deliverance. I should have anticipated."

~From the visual snippet


Clary ran her fingers through Jace's hair, watching him stare blankly at the ceiling. She was propped up on her elbow, looking down at him. His eyes held no emotion, but she knew better. She just didn't know anything she could say to make him feel better. She didn't know if there was anything to say. So Clary had simply stayed with him these past thirty-six hours; she had a feeling they'd been the hardest of his life. She'd asked him if he wanted to be alone, but he had refused. So she'd stayed with him, sometimes talking to him and sometimes just laying in silence, because that was all she could do.

"Jace. Come down to the kitchen with me."

"I'm not hungry."

Clary sighed. "Jace, I know this isn't what you want to hear, but you're going to have to get out of bed sometime. I know you're hurting, but he wouldn't want this."

Jace closed his eyes. "Maybe in a little while." Clary nodded, kissed Jace's forehead, and stood. She stretched and exited the room in search of snacks.

All she could think about was how what had happened to Jace wasn't fair.


"Jace! Jace, I can't keep up with you!" Clary cried, on the verge of tears. Her boots were sticking in the mud, and she could hardly move. The rain kept getting in her eyes, making it nearly impossible to see. The only help she got was from the lightning, but then the thunder was so loud she thought it might deafen her.

Jace was stumbling ahead of her on the muddy path towards Alicante. Clary had never seen him panicking this much. Further more, he hadn't even told her what was going on.

"Jace!" Clary cried again. She was scared – she'd never seen Jace this upset before.

"We have to go," Jace gasped. "We have to get back now."

"Jace, we can barely walk. We have to stop somewhere!"

But Jace only stumbled ahead blindly. Clary let out a cry of frustration and ran with everything in her to catch Jace.

She was only a step behind him when he fell to his knees.

"Jace!" Clary screamed, falling to her knees beside him. "Jace, what's wrong?"

He was doubled over, crying out. His hands clutched at his chest, and Clary saw blood. She snatched his hands away in confusion. The front of his gear was stained red, but it was turning dark mixed with the rain and mud.

Between gasps of air Jace looked up, tears mixing with the rain. "Alec," he whispered.

And suddenly, Clary understood.


Clary made her way to the kitchen. The only sound was that of the wind outside howling through the cracks of the old church. It seemed impossible that the Institute was the fullest it had been in years, when the only signs of any humans were the dusty footprints scattered throughout the halls.

The battle was over, and they had won. Not without their share of loss, though. She blocked their faces out of her mind. She would grieve at the funerals, but she could not break down now. She had to focus on the fact that her brother would never hurt anyone again.

She entered the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, it was empty, unless you counted the day-old coffee cups sitting on the counter. She walked over to the pantry, rummaging around for something that wasn't a week old or Isabelle's leftovers. She felt a brief wave of success as she found a box of energy bars.

"Perfect."

She began to turn, and yelped as she almost ran into her mother.

"Mom. You scared me."

"Sorry, darling," Jocelyn said with a soft smile. "How's Jace?"

Clary sighed. "Not good. He's barely eaten since we got back, and he won't get out of bed."

Jocelyn nodded sadly. "To loose a parabatai… I can't even imagine."

"I should probably get back. He doesn't want to be alone," Clary explained.

Jocelyn nodded. "Actually, I need you to tell him something."

"Okay," Clary said slowly.

Jocelyn handed Clary a piece of paper in her hand that wasn't already gripping the energy bars. "It's from Brother Zachariah. I found it outside the door. Anyway, he wants to talk to Jace, and he said if Jace would come he'd meet him tomorrow at that address."

"I don't think Jace will go, but I'll tell him."

"Okay. I'll be down here for a while."

Clary nodded and made her way back upstairs. Soon enough she found herself shouldering open Jace's door, only to find him in the same position she'd left him in.

"I brought snacks."

"Great."

"And something else. For you."

This got Jace's attention. He turned to look at her, frowning slightly as she sat on the edge of the bed and threw the energy bars between them.

"What do you mean?"

Clary held out the piece of paper. "It's from Brother Zachariah. He said he wants to talk to you."

Jace opened the paper, read it, and then let it drop to his side. "It's just a stupid address."

"He wants to meet you there tomorrow morning."

"I don't feel like it."

"Okay," said Clary. "But I really think you should go."


Jace woke the next morning to sunshine. It made him furious, really. How dare it be sunny when he felt like this? Clary lay beside him, curled up and asleep. He shuddered at the thought of how close he'd come to losing her, too. She shifted and murmured something in her sleep.

Jace's eyes fell to the slip of paper lying between them on the bed. He still didn't want to leave this room, but he had to admit he was a bit curious. And Clary thought he should go.

Jace made his decision.

Carefully, not wanting to wake Clary, Jace climbed out from under the covers and headed to wash up.

A little while later, he quietly emerged from the bathroom. He had to admit, he felt a bit better. Washing up had woken him up, though he still grimaced at the half-stinging, half-numb feeling of his parabatai rune.

He was slipping his shoes on when he heard Clary's soft voice from the bed.

"Jace? Is everything okay?"

"I'm going to see Brother Zachariah after all," said Jace. "It's okay, go back to sleep."

Clary smiled and rolled over.


Jace approached the address written on the paper. It was an old townhouse in a prettier part of the city. Jace found the door partly open. He knocked, but there was no answer. Shrugging, he walked in, shutting the door behind him.

"Brother Zachariah?" he called.

"In here," a voice answered, though it didn't sound exactly like Brother Zachariah. Jace knocked on the door to the room he thought he'd heard the response from.

"Come in."

Jace entered to find not Brother Zachariah, but another man – not a Silent Brother - standing out the window and facing away from him. Jace frowned.

"Where's Brother Zachariah?" Jace asked.

"I'm right here," the man answered. And then he turned around.

Jace couldn't help but stare in bewilderment. Because it was Brother Zachariah – except he wasn't a Silent Brother any longer. Jace's eyes were drawn to a faded rune on his neck. The parabatai rune that Jace had noticed last time he'd seen Brother Zachariah.

"Jace Herondale," said Brother Zachariah That Wasn't Brother Zachariah. He smiled to himself as if enjoying a private joke. "And once more a Herondale is the object of my deliverance. I should have anticipated."

"I – I don't understand," said Jace, tearing his eyes away from the parabatai rune.

"You are the reason I am no longer bound to the Brothers. It is a long story, I am afraid, but I was bound to them due to a poison that would not allow me to live otherwise. And the heavenly fire that you gave up? It was used to burn away the last of the poison within me. I am now Jem Carstairs once again."

Jace nodded, speechless.

"Thank you," said Jem. "And I am sorry, so sorry, about the loss of your parabatai," said Jem.

"You know what it's like, don't you?" asked Jace quietly.

"Yes," said Jem simply, sadly, then hesitated. "I suppose part of the reason I choose not to just die of the poison was because of him - so I could make sure he was alright."

"I should have been there," Jace whispered, "for Alec. To watch his back like a parabatai should."

Brother Zachariah - Jem - shook his head. "It is not your fault."

Jace nodded slowly, though uncertainly. "Who was he? Your parabatai?"

Jem smiled slightly. "Will Herondale."

And suddenly, it all made sense to Jace. Why Brother Zachariah had taken a special interest in trying to cure Jace. Why he had seemed to care about Jace so much more than a Silent Brother should have been able to. Why he had saved Jace's life.

It was because Jace was the last of his parabatai's family.

And Jace felt a connection to Brother Zachariah/Jem. For they were alike in more ways than one. Maybe Jem could help him through the loss of Alec, Jace realized. And for the first time in the past couple of days, Jace began to hope again.