Chapter 3
Disclaimer: I don't own this.
"Jace fucking Wayland!" She yelled as she threw paint at her canvas. Her brush was moving at speeds it never had before. The painting was unexplainable. It was unrecognizable at the moment. She didn't care. She just needed some form of release.
"Clary, we're going to be late!" Isabelle came crashing into her room thirty minutes later. Clary spun around ready to platter her with paint. She stopped herself, but it was a close one. Iz frowned. "Why are you drawing my brother?"
Clary looked back at the painting, stepping back far enough to look at it fully. Her jaw dropped. "Jace fucking Wayland." She growled.
"What?"
"I'm drawing the devil."
"Well you're putting him in a good light," she scoffed. Her eyes turned suspicious. "Is there anything I should know?"
I'm falling for your idiot of a brother even though he's an ass.
"Can we just go?" Clary rolled her eyes. Isabelle wasn't going to drop this one easily. "Jonathan plays better with you there." A smile graced her lips and she grabbed Clary's hand, dragging her to the car.
They made it to the field a few minutes before kickoff. The players were in a huddle, listening to the coach speak. As always, Isabelle waited against the fence for Jonathan. He always came over before a game. They either kissed or flirted. Clary normally joined Simon, but he said he was running late. It was really because he was debating ditching Clary and Isabelle due to the latter's presence.
This time, two players jogged off the field. Jace's number was 3. Clary didn't know how she knew that, but she did. When Isabelle and Jon started to kiss, she slid over reluctantly to talk to Jace, only because she was a fool.
"Came to watch me play? I'm touched, sweetheart," Jace reached out and ran a delicate finger down her cheek. Clary looked down as heat filled her cheeks.
"I was dragged here against my will by your sister," she shrugged. Her eyes drifted toward the other players. They looked big. "Be careful out there."
Jace tilted his head. "And you be careful with my sister. Wouldn't want your embarrassing secret to slip out, would we?" Without waiting for a response, Jace walked away, dragging Jonathan's butt with him. Clary felt the anxiety building. Her throat hurt, like she was holding back tears. She was. Jace's form was lean, and his shoulders seemed huge, more menacing than he'd ever seemed to Clary.
"Jace-," Clary called, but he was too far gone. She groaned, rubbing her temples against the oncoming headache. How had she gone from being mad at him to insulting him in two days? In her defense, she really had insulted him two days ago. Clary just didn't realize it had actually hurt Jace until now.
"You voluntarily spoke to Jace? Wow, you're a nicer person than I thought," Isabelle said. Clary gulped. Iz didn't know how wrong she was.
. . .
Two Days Ago
"I can hardly see, Jace," Clary hissed. She had spent yesterday with Jace avoiding her father. It had been the most fun weekend she'd had in a while. Jace sent her a message at nine this night saying he was outside. She had, for some reason, climbed into his car. Now she found herself in the forest thinking that it would be a shame to ruin her wonderful weekend by being kidnapped or mugged within the trees of Central Park.
"Just trust me," he whispered, farther away than she'd realized. A rustle of leaves sounded behind her. With a squeak, she ran straight into Jace. He started to laugh. Clary elbowed him and grabbed his arm. She wasn't going down alone.
They walked for five minutes until Jace stopped. He had been carrying a bag the entire walk. Now he reached into it and pulled out multiple things. Clary still couldn't see. A flame flickered to life in Jace's hands. He lit a candle, and then another, and then another. Soon, she saw they were in a small clearing surrounded by trees. Jace had a total of six large candles. He dropped the match into a pile of firewood. It created a fire so large she knew there had to have been an accelerant. Then, Jace calmly laid a large blanket in the middle of the candles, close enough to the fire to see, but not so close they'd get too hot.
"Jace…"
He grabbed her hand and pulled her down to the blanket. The ground was cold, and she curled her legs against her chest. "What is this?" she whispered, not daring to break the silence of the night. He lied back on his elbows, staring at the sky.
"This is me forcing you on a date," he said, not even looking at Clary. She snorted.
"I don't think that's how it works," she said. Her head craned back. The stars were, as always, hidden. They could see, however, clouds moving overhead. "You don't date, Jace."
He looked at her. "I do now."
She sighed. "You spent our whole childhood determined to bully me. It's hard for me to believe one kiss can change that."
He raised one eyebrow. She refused to look at him, though. "You aren't saying no."
Clary finally snapped her gaze up to his. "This is me saying you should stick to your old ways. We won't work."
"But you want us to."
"Yes – no!" She groaned, her emerald eyes pleading with his. "I don't know what I want, but I know what you want. It's not me."
"Why isn't it you?" Jace said, his voice impartial. The moonlight lit up his eyes. Clary had trouble looking away. His whole body seemed highlighted. It was hard to resist him, but she knew she had to.
Clary laughed sadly. She looked at her hands as she spoke. "You want sex. I want love. You like sports and parties. I like art and comics. And our friends? What would they say? Isabelle would never forgive me for dating her brother. And Jonathan would beat you into the hospital. Jace, they know us as the fighting duo, not the fucking duo."
Jace's jaw clenched at her words. He didn't say anything, didn't disagree. He just fell back on the blanket, hands behind his head. Clary waited. Her pulse increased. She wanted him to say something to make her claims fall short. Instead, he lied there silent and calm.
"Jace?"
Jace sighed, closing his eyes. "If that's what you think – what you care about…I guess you are right. You aren't what I expected."
No. She wasn't what he wanted. That's what she said. She blinked rapidly, trying to understand what he meant. "You know me. You know what to expect."
"Clearly not. I never saw you to be a self-conscious people-pleaser." He shifted in his position. Clary's mouth fell open. His words hit her gut hard. She was so stunned that words failed her. It hit her hard.
"I – I'm sorry," she whispered, running her hands through her tangled curls as she stood. He waved like it meant nothing to him. Maybe it didn't. Maybe she dodged a bullet. But the words followed her, floating directed above her head.
People-pleaser. Self-conscious.
Was that who he thought she was? No. He didn't get to just outright call her such things. On her walk home and through the subway, her sadness and doubt turned to anger and rage.
How dare he?!
. . .
Clary and Isabelle found their spots in the stands. It was overly crowded today. She didn't even know who they were playing, but she assumed it would be a good game.
Every time Jace went in, Clary felt a rush of adrenaline. Every time Jonathan went in, she could breathe easy. He was the quarterback. Most of the time, he only got hit when they were really playing bad. Jace, however, was a running back. He got hit every time he touched the ball.
One hit was particularly bad. He landed with two guys on top of him, and his leg got pinned under him. He didn't get up. Clary held her breath. He still didn't get up. Coaches rushed on the field. He hobbled to his feet, but it was too late for Clary. She breathed out heavily and fell forward with it.
The guys in front of her were drunk and old. They kept her from falling, though the price was high. All four men lost their drinks in the process. Their eyes locked on Clary's tiny form. "Darling, you owe us four beers, but if you let us walk you there, you can just buy one."
Clary gulped and looked at Isabelle. She shrugged. Clary looked at the men. They were in their late twenties and had some rugged beards and rugged scents. She gulped and nodded. They followed her down the stairs. She could feel their eyes groping her ass.
When she passed the sidelines, her eyes caught with Jace's. He was stretching out his leg. She was about to stop and ask him how he was, but soon two bulky guys blocked the path. One threw his arm around her shoulders, causing her to cringe inward.
"What's your name, sweetheart?"
Clary whipped around to see Jace again, but he was in a warpath headed towards the coach. He said some words, and the coach responded. Jace threw the helmet at the side and went back to his spot, legs shaking with adrenaline.
She bought them their drinks, which basically meant she handed them the cash. It was stupid in her mind, but she didn't feel like protesting. It gave her a good excuse as to why she left Isabelle's side. The four men tried to have conversation with her, but she dropped it quickly. Somehow, she ducked away from them.
Jace was pacing behind the bench. Clary ran into the fence. "Jace, are you okay?" she shouted. Jace looked up at her voice. He looked her over and snarled, waving her off. Clary frowned. "Jace, I'm sorry. Are you hurt? Why aren't you out there?"
With a burst of energy, he stood directly in front of Clary on the opposite side of the fence. "You seemed really concerned when you came down earlier hanging off of four men," he growled. Clary frowned. She was sure she didn't hear him right.
She recovered quickly. "I have you to thank for that," she laughed.
The fire in his eyes grew brighter. "Me? You're joking!"
He was so angry. She assumed he'd be back in the game by the next quarter. His jealousy was uncalled for, as well. She wasn't dating him. She'd made that clear. If she was going to mess around with four older guys, he had no room to call her on it. "They were cheering against you. I was cheering against you, and we all got closer from there!" Clary smirked as she saw the anger flood into his eyes. His hands clenched on the fence, and he swallowed hard. His expression shifted into a madder, more serious ire.
The coach called out to him. He was going back in. Clary hadn't expected that. Jace hardly looked in his direction as he continued to glare at Clary. "Wayland!"
Before he left, he looked back at the stands, at the four men laughing and spilling their drinks everywhere. Suddenly, seeing Jace so jealous didn't make her feel better. It scared her. He had so much pent up rage already. "Jace, I was kidding-,"
"No. Don't let me stop you. Keep rooting against me and see how well that works for you," he growled, directly in her face. Clary flinched back at the venom in his words. They lashed out and tangled into her heart. His feet hit the ground like they were hitting her chest, over and over, growing with power and fear.
She was more than worried. He'd never played so angry before. He was an impulsive person, and it never worked out well for him. She couldn't move. Clary knew something bad was about to happen. She could feel it in her gut.
They snapped the ball. Jonathan looked around for the blitz. He handed off the ball to Jace, but it never reached Jonathan again. The entire crowd had lost the ball. Nobody spoke.
Then, Jace fought through two defenders, right into a line of three. They spotted the ball just seconds before the crowd did. The closest defender smashed into Jace from the left, and the next came from the right, and the last pinned him back on his back.
Everyone gasped. Jace was down for sure, but there was no way he'd be getting back up.
"Damn idiot tried to run the ball on his own," Isabelle muttered.
Clary felt the blood drain from her face as Jace's body appeared. His leg was bent at a position no human had ever been in before. The only scream came from the crowd. Jace just looked at the sky and screamed through his lip he'd bitten so hard it was bleeding.
Clary had a sickening feeling in her stomach. She ran to the bathroom and puked. When she came out, Jace was on the sidelines, passed out cold.
. . .
The pacing finally got to Isabelle. "Clary, stop moving!" She didn't listen to her friend. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess. Clary hated jumbled messes. She had to expend her energy in some way. It was only when Alec snapped at her that she listened. Her body hit the chair so hard it moved Isabelle's. Jonathan sighed deeply.
"Why are you even here, Clary? You hate Jace." He asked. Clary was having trouble answering this herself. Why was she here? There were many reasons.
"It's my fault," she whispered to herself. Jonathan stared at her like she was crazy. She let her head hang into her hands. It was taking too long. How long did shin surgery take? She knew it didn't take an hour! Okay, no she didn't know that. Clary groaned.
Jace's leg had been a sickening sight. The bone wasn't sticking out, but it was close enough. He couldn't move it. He could definitely feel it, though. Clary closed her eyes. She remembered coming out of the bathroom and running to the sidelines. It was her fault. He looked like he was sleeping, not that she'd ever seen him sleeping. She made him so angry. People surrounded his leg so much she could hardly see. But she saw. And she nearly fainted, too.
"Wayland?"
Clary shot to her feet. "That's m-us – that's us," she said, remembering Jace's siblings and her brother were here, too. Maryse was on the way. The nurse looked between the four kids skeptically.
"And you're all his siblings?" she said with annoyance.
"Yes."
She sighed and looked at the chart. "Well, he's awake." She walked off, the four of them on her heels. Clary's heart was racing. He survived surgery. He got through. If he had died on the table, she never would have forgiven herself. Clary couldn't believe she had been so stupid. She was worried about all the wrong things.
The nurse stopped by a door. "The doctor would like to see your parents. He made it thro-,"
Clary pushed past the nurse. She had to see him. She had to know he was okay. "Clary!" Isabelle grabbed after her. She threw open the door.
Her eyes were bouncing around the room. She peered around his leg propped up by pillows. Her feet moved forward without her knowledge. Clary's eyes locked on his face, more importantly, on his eyes. They were open and watching her.
"Jace," she breathed, crashing into him. He grunted, and she almost pulled away, but he locked his arms around her waist. His heat reassured her. Dead people didn't have heat. He didn't smell like Jace, though. He smelled way too clean, like the hospital had already taken a toll on him. "Jace, I'm so sorry. It's my entire fault. Oh God…"
Clary stepped back. Tears welled in her eyes. His cast was unlike normal ones. A metal casing surrounded the cast, poles going in at measured lengths. Jace sat more upright. He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. "No, sweetheart, I could put all the blame here," he said and gestured toward his crotch. Clary let out an embarrassing snort of laughter. She had never been so glad to hear his sarcastic, teasing tone before.
She was so relieved she threw her arms around Jace again, climbing halfway on his bed. Before she could think about it, she pressed her lips to his. "You're such a jealous idiot," she laughed as he wiped at her tears.
"What the hell?" Isabelle shouted. Clary's head snapped around. She didn't stop to think for a second about the three she'd came here with. Now her friends stood in utter shock.
Jace sat up. "Jon…"
Jonathan looked disgusted. Hurt laced across his gaze, which bounced between Clary and Jace. His fists were balled. "We're leaving, Clary. Now."
Clary climbed off Jace's bed, but she didn't move forward. "What? No way."
Jonathan walked to Clary and locked his hand around her arm, squeezing so tight no blood flowed to her hands. She stumbled toward him, trying to pry away. "Don't come near Clary again. You ruined the game. You're not ruining my sister."
Jace locked his jaw. He and Jonathan stared each other down. Clary couldn't take more of a testosterone-filled fight. She rolled her eyes and tried to speak as the grip on her arm tightened. "Jon, I can take care of myself."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Should I tell Dad just what you've been up to?"
She snorted. "Sure. He already said he'd approve of Jace." Jonathan acted like she'd slapped him in the face and kicked him while he was down.
"Come on, Jon. Haven't you seen this coming?" Isabelle inched near Jon. He shrugged her touch off, stomping towards the door.
Jon turned around just as he neared the door, which was being held open by Alec. "You're really some best friend, Jace. Real cool."
Then he was gone. Alec came in laughing, and Isabelle joined nervously. Clary didn't find this funny. Neither did Jace. She felt the urge to cry again, but not with relief. However, anger overruled that urge. He was her brother, not her father. Even her father had no right to choose a man for her. Her judgment wasn't as screwed up as they thought it was. It was more than insulting. Jon thought of her as his child.
"This is exactly what I didn't want happening," she mumbled.
"Give him some time," Alec said. "After all, he is also dating his best friend's sister."
Why was it any different this time?
"Oh forget him!" Isabelle came to Jace's other side. "How's your leg?"
"I've had wor-,"
"Good. Now. When did you two happen? Details!" Isabelle squealed. Alec sat in the chair with a bored expression.
"Yes, details," he muttered, pulling out his phone. Clary rubbed at her arm. Her brother's words kept echoing in her mind. Did she pull them apart? They were best friends, closer than brothers. Her eyes landed on Jace as he retold the night of the milkshake horror. His leg was healing in a cast, but Clary still broke it. She was stubborn. She was cruel.
"I have to go," she muttered, not looking at Jace as she spoke. On her way out, she ran straight into Maryse.
"You look like you've seen a ghost, Clary, are you okay?" she asked, hands on her shoulders. Clary shook her head.
"He's hurt because of me," she muttered as she broke away from Maryse. She made it all the way to her car, but her fingers were shaking too badly to turn the ignition. So she sat there in silence.
A/N: Well I suck at making one shots, huh? I promise the next chapter is the final chapter, though. OmG you guys rock! Your reviews made my heart burst! It definitely helped me get through my first day of school! I love you guys! Stick around for the next chapter. I'm hoping it will be done by friday at the latest. Your love and inspiring words are always welcome!
Sidenote: I was asked why I hated Simon so badly. It was on a different story, but by his absence I'm sure you can see that I'm not a huge fan. It's nothing personal to him. He's a quirky, well developed character. It's just his personality. If you haven't caught on to my many stories, I have a thing for bad boys. Also, I suck at/hate writing friendships that don't lead into romance. What are you all's takes on Simon? Are you a fan? And who is for Simon and Isabelle? Jonathan and Isabelle?
