Chapter Four - The Fire that Rises and Consumes

The sun rose earlier than expected, casting glimmers of light over the faded walls of the kitchen. Elaine Lewis was puttering about the room like any normal day when suddenly there was a loud scream that reverberated through the house like Lucifer himself was clawing up through the gates of Hell. The dishes that she'd been holding in her hands crashed to the floor, shattering among the tiles like tiny fragments of a mirror - jabbing into her leg just above her ankle as they fell. She let out a cry of pain before tumbling to the floor amongst the broken china, cutting the palms of hands in the process. Blood seeped from the shallow cuts, pooling around her shaking body and she quickly reached for the tattered rag hanging on the edge of the countertop.

The bone chilling scream had subsided by the time she got to her feet, and raced towards Simon's room. With the rag wrapped around her bleeding hand, she twisted the knob, desperately trying to open the door, but it was locked. "Simon! Simon!" Her cries went unanswered, though she could her someone shuffling about in the room. "Are you okay?"

A muffled voice answered her calls. "Yes, I'm alright. Just a bad dream."

But Elaine Lewis wasn't buying it. Some sort of smoke was rising up from under the door, and she could smell the faint scent of something burning. The smell made her stomach turn, and all the color drain from her face. She tried to jiggle the doorknob again which resulted in a horrible stinging sensation in her hand. Her cuts were worse than she feared, but she didn't want to leave Simon alone. Her heart was clambering in her chest, threatening to burst free of its surroundings. Something was wrong with Simon, she could feel it. "Simon there's smoke! Simon answer me!"

But there was nothing except silence this time. Elaine raced into the kitchen to find something to pry open the door - something sharp, anything she could wedge into the frame. The smoke was filling the hallway, the scent of charred flesh was heavy in the air. Elaine began to panic as she hurried to find something that would open the door. She never even saw the open cabinet before her head collided with it, and sent her crashing to the floor once again - her head swirled with dizziness. Elaine tried to pull herself free from her vertigo state, but she couldn't. Suddenly her limbs felt very heavy, and she collapsed into a pool of blood on the kitchen floor.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but she was vaguely aware of voices looming above her; soft, worried, and entirely too secretive.

"Magnus said she would be okay." Magnus? Who's Magnus, Elaine thought. She was too tired, and too disorientated to listen any further. She slipped into a dreamless sleep before another word could be uttered.

Simon felt as if he were being burned alive. He should have anticipated this. He should have blocked his windows as he had numerous times before. The weatherman had said rain. Simon couldn't believe his own stupidity. Since when were meteorologists right about the weather? Now, he couldn't move an inch, not with the sun pouring through his bedroom window like a waterfall of tainted light. The demon blood had won.

Simon let out a horrific cry as the rays burst into the room and obliterated his right hand. His skin became ablaze with a red glow, cracking and peeling off the outermost flesh just as it had the first morning after his change. He jerked his hand back with another shriek of pain. The light was consuming him, rising up like flames around his dissolving body - Like a witch being burned at the stake. He knew he only had moments left, just mere seconds before his entire body would be lit up like the fourth of July. The mark of Cain obviously didn't protect him from sunlight. And why would it? Sunlight was an act of God, something that the lord himself had created. The Mark of Cain would do nothing against an act of God because God himself created it. This was not an attack on Simon. It was the demon blood at work. He was tainted, just like the sunlight.

Against his will, his mind began to run through the people in his life, and he knew the reason why. He needed to say goodbye to them before he turned into nothing but a pile of ash. The pain was unbearable, but to see their faces was more torturous than the icy sting of death.

He saw Clary. They were ten years old, and she was laughing about something he couldn't remember. He saw how her green eyes seemed to glisten as she spoke, and how he had fallen in love with her right on that very hill where they sat under the protection of a hovering Oak Tree. How would Clary cope with this? He couldn't even say goodbye to her properly - His friend, his best friend. Oh God, he thought. He couldn't even speak the word out loud. He was dammed.

His mother crossed his thoughts next. It was Christmas time, and she was bustling about the kitchen preparing a huge turkey dinner for the family. His sister was sitting across from him, and they were both chanting a ridiculous song that they'd heard on television. He would never eat dinner with them again. He would never watch his sister grow older, and marry the man of her dreams. He would never be an uncle, or a father, or any of the things he'd imagined the future could bring to him at one point in time.

His mother flashed him a grin, and then suddenly disappeared.

NO! He cried out, but no sound left his lips. Instead Isabelle stood in front of him, her hair blazing in the darkness like raven feathers. Her golden whip was snaked up the side of her left arm, and she was running towards him with sheer terror in her eyes. But no matter how fast she ran, she could not reach him. Then Isabelle faded into the darkness as well.

Simon opened his eyes to a room full of smoke - his room. He was now back in the furnace, and trapped within the fires of Hell itself. He saw his cell phone sitting on the table next to his bed, surrounded in a glow of sunlight. If he could just reach for it, just call for help, someone would come running to save him. Wouldn't they? All he had to do was reach out for it. All he had to do was bear the pain that the sunlight would inflict upon him for a few brief moments. He could do it. He had to do it. He wasn't ready to die. Again.

With a burst of courage, Simon flew out of the only remaining dark corner of his room and grabbed the phone from the nightstand with a hiss. Flames shot out of his fingertips, searing all the way up his arm and Simon let out another agonizing scream - a scream he knew his mother could hear. There was nothing stopping her from coming into the bedroom, other than the fact that the door was locked. And what would she find if she did? Her vampire son laying in a heap of charred ashes, that's what. Simon had to make her believe it was just a nightmare for her own safety, but he knew she didn't listen. Her hasty retreat from the door had only been a temporary diversion, he knew that.

The fire was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. It was almost a numbing effect after the initial pain. Simon thought that perhaps the mark on his forehead was working, or maybe it was supposed to be this way; make the vampire numb enough so that they would stay still and let the light consume them. Simon wasn't about to let that happen. He had too much to live for now. He should never have left Isabelle last night. She would never know how he felt if he allowed the fire to take him fully.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the closet door ajar, and he cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner. With all the speed he could muster, he flung himself into the closet and slammed the door behind him; stuffing anything he could find along the bottom of the door to block the sunlight. He was now in darkness, and the fire in his body began to calm. He would heal quickly enough, but he still needed help. Simon picked up his phone and with a shaky hand that smelled of burnt ash, he called the first person that came to mind.

"You know you need to eat something, Izzy," Alec said, watching Isabelle from the corner of his eye. He was dressed all in black, much like the night before, and Isabelle wondered if he even owned a decent pair of pants anymore. It was always the same mundane fashion these days, as opposed to Magnus's more outrageous choices of attire. Isabelle shot Alec a dark look. She wished Magnus's tastes would rub off on her brother, rather than just Magnus himself. She would have to talk to Magnus about her brother's lack of fashion sense next time she saw him.

"Don't you have training to do?" She glared at Alec who shrugged and hopped off the kitchen counter, rolling his eyes as he walked out into the hallway to find Church.

Isabelle sighed, and looked down to her breakfast. The sight of food made her feel ill, and she didn't understand why. She'd not eaten the day before - not at the party, and not in the restaurant with Simon. It was like her body was drained of all energy, and something was lacking in her mood. She'd never told anyone something so personal before. She was feeling exposed, and vulnerable to Simon. That had to be it. She feared that he would reject her. No downworlder would ever want to be with the likes of her. Her past relationships were proof of that.

Her phone buzzed in her bag, and begrudgingly she reached over the uneaten bagel and pulled her bag closer. It was Simon. He had promised to call, so she shouldn't have been surprised. But she was. She could feel her heart speeding up just from the caller I.D alone. "Hey Simon." She tried to keep her excitement at bay, leaving her voice cool and collected.

"Sun…Izzy… help."

"Simon calm down, you're not making any sense." Isabelle was already on her feet as she spoke. The feeling that had been swirling in her chest had suddenly gotten very heavy, and uncomfortable. "What's wrong?"

"I'm burning!"

The terror in Simon's voice propelled Isabelle out of the institute doors, and into the busy streets outside; her blades already tucked neatly into the hem of her black boots and covered by her floral knee high dress. "Burning, how? SIMON!"

The phone went dead.

"Damn it!" Isabelle began to panic as she crossed the street and attempted to hail a taxi. She tried redialing Simon's number but all she got was the voicemail time and time again. With a sudden sense of dread she began to run along the pavement between the gaps of sunlight and shadow. Only then did she realize what Simon was screaming about. "Sunlight, by the Angel, NO!"

But it would be impossible for Simon to be hurt by sunlight. He was a daylighter, and protected by the rune that Clary had placed on his skin. She sucked in a huge breath of stale alley air as another realization struck her. Sunlight was a natural force, a force created by God himself, and no one could smite God. The rune could not protect Simon from God. She hurried faster, willing her legs to carry her forward, and knowing all the while that she'd be too late to save him. She couldn't think of that right now. If she did, she would lose the momentum to keep going. Her heart was already lurching forward, needing nothing except Simon safe in her arms.

She was rushing through the empty alley way across 6th street when she was suddenly grabbed from behind. Isabelle swung around, calling out to her seraph blade as she whirled to face her attacker. Her blade came down swiftly through the air, but never hit its mark. Instead, a pair of hands gripped her shaking arm. "Isabelle Lightwood, STOP!"

It was Magnus.

"By the Angel, Magnus!" She dropped her defensive stance and rushed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably - her words poured out before she could even think to stop them. "Simon is dead! Simon is dead!"

Magnus placed his hand on top of her head, and cradled her close to his chest - his mind a vault of questions, but unable to speak them for fear of upsetting Isabelle. He simply held her for a moment until she was able to explain.

Isabelle glanced up into his cat-like eyes, and wiped the tears from her face. "Did you hear what I said?" Magnus nodded, and allowed her to continue. "He called… He's burning.. I can't get there fast enough."

"So he's not dead then?" Isabelle stared at Magnus in disbelief. She hadn't realized she'd spoken her fears out loud. She hadn't really given much thought to a world without Simon. He was always going to be there, wasn't he? Suddenly the world seemed very small, and very cold.

"I have to go." She tore herself away from Magnus and bolted through the alley way as fast as she could. She was only vaguely aware that Magnus was following her. She didn't care. Magnus could help Simon if he was injured.

It took her less time than she realized to reach Simon's house. It seemed deserted. There was a faint scent of embers around the front door, and she kicked it in, not caring who may be on the other side. Her boot struck the wood, splintering it on its hinges, and causing Magnus to take a step back. Isabelle had forgotten he was even there. She didn't have time for Magnus right now anyway. She needed to get to Simon.

Inside the house, the air was thick with blood, and the underlying stench of burning flesh. Simon. Her heart lurched again. Every room was filled with a sickening layer of smoke that clung to the walls and furniture like tar. Isabelle suppressed a gag and began breaking in doors, hoping that one of them would lead to Simon's room. She'd never been in his house before, and although she felt the need to glance around at the details of his childhood home, the need to find Simon was stronger.

"His mother is injured," Magnus calmly called out from the kitchen, but Isabelle barely heard him. She was rummaging through closets, and bathrooms - bedrooms that all looked the same to her. Then she came to the last door; a small ornate white door with a brass handle. She didn't hesitate, and slammed her boot into the wood, sending the door flying across the room into the mirror that rested on the wall. With a massive crash, the glass pieces tumbled to the ground, covering Simon's dresser in a wave of glitter and razor sharp ash. Isabelle stepped inside and immediately began to choke on the sulfur fumes rising inside the room.

"SIMON! SIMON WHERE ARE YOU!" She cried out. There was a faint mumble from the closet. Isabelle wanted so badly to open it, and make sure Simon was alright, but she couldn't. Sunlight was still filtering about the room, and if he took one step out of the closet he would burn - The thought was still puzzling to Isabelle. Simon had been out in the daylight every day, so she couldn't understand what was happening to him now. "I'm going to board the windows up. Are you okay in there?" What a stupid question to ask, she thought. Of course he wasn't all right.

"Windows," Simon answered faintly. There was a trace of anguish in his voice, yet it was still commanding. Isabelle instantly began covering the windows with layers upon layers of blankets. She knew it wouldn't be enough. Even under a blanket, direct sunlight would kill Simon.

Her mind was completely focused on Simon. Ensuring his safety was her number one priority now. She ignored Magnus as she raced out to the garage, prying pieces of wood off the side of the building. She saw an old toolbox at the back of the garage and hurried over to grab a hammer, and nails. The next thing she knew, she was boarding up the windows on the outside of Simon's room - caring nothing about who was watching the panicked display. They would glamour the neighbors later if they had to. But no one was watching her now. They were all engrossed in other things besides the burning vampire that lay mere inches from their doorsteps.

Magnus appeared in the doorway, ushering her inside with bloodied hands that were no doubt a result of Simon's mother. She felt a pang of unease as she looked at Magnus. His eyes were slits in the darkness of the boarded up house, but she could still see a hint of sadness there.

"Is she dead?" The words left her lips like a disease. Simon would never forgive himself if his mother had died because of something he'd done. She didn't even know what had happened really. Simon was going to have to come out of the closet, so to speak.

Magnus shook his head. "She will be all right. She needs rest. I've done what I can for her, but when she wakes and sees the state of her home, you will have some explaining to do." Isabelle nodded, relief filling her completely. "Keep Simon indoors until nightfall, then we three shall have a little chat. Say the park..9pm?"

Isabelle nodded again.

With that, he took his leave -Stopping only once to glance over at something that lay on the broken valance by the front door - and then Isabelle was left in the darkness with Simon and his mother.