A/N: I'm not quite making Jordan, Maia, the Blackthorns, etc, main characters unless requested otherwise. A lot of characters from the books are just going to be making cameo appearances (unless someone asks me to specifically focus more on a character that they'd like). That request also qualifies for main characters. For example, I try to write for each character as evenly as possible, but if you want to see more of, let's say, Isabelle, let me know in the reviews, and I'll be happy to oblige.
"Jian Meng" is Jem's Chinese name, for the record. The Chinese text roughly means, "Your mandatory half hour is not yet up," "Yes, Mom. I'm sorry," "Hurry up and finish your minutes," "That's not fair," "I'll be good, Mom," and "My child".
Chapter 4
"I am sorry for my nephew's behavior, Ms. Belcourt, not only in your classroom but also during this detention." Stephen Herondale apologized and shook hands with Camille before putting his hands on his hips. "William Owen, let's go."
Will emerged from the corner he had been sent to about halfway through the hour-long detention. It seemed that Will's hamartia was talking out of turn; or possibly his excessive use of sarcasm, particularly at authority figures. He shuffled over to stand by his uncle's side, blushing from having been told to stand in the corner when he was already a junior in high school. Jonathan and Jordan watched the scene before them, trying not to look too interested.
Stephen cleared his throat forcefully. Will knew the cough was his cue to apologize to his teacher, but Will, being the idiotic fool he was, decided to make a snarky comment.
"You might want to see a doctor about that cough, Uncle Stephen." He spoke up, unable to resist the temptation. Stephen looked about ready to drop him over his knee right then and there which made Will quickly backpedal. "Well… On another note. Ms. Belcourt, I offer my sincerest apologies for the disrespect I've been showing you today. I will do my best to refrain myself from being… willfully disobedient." He grinned placatingly.
Belcourt fought back a smile of her own. Even when he's misbehaving, William found a way to do it amusingly. However, she knew that if she laughed, or even smiled, it would only encourage his rude behavior further. She nodded her head in gratitude of his words. "Apology accepted. Just make sure you keep that promise, young man."
Will nodded. Stephen shook hands with the woman and apologized on Will's behalf once more before gripping his nephew's arm tightly and pulling him out of the classroom. Uncomfortable by how hard his uncle was holding his arm, Will began to speak.
"Uncle Stephen -"
"Not. One. Word." Stephen ground out, maneuvering his way expertly through the hallways, gradually grasping Will's arm tighter with every step. Once outside, the older Herondale threw the door open and practically tossed his ward inside before slamming the door. Will winced and rubbed his arm until his uncle came in on the driver's side. He leaned his head on the window, groaning quietly. He knew that the ride home would be completely silent, plus what he had waiting for him when he got home wouldn't be very pleasant either.
~0~
Luke came in from the opposite hallway, in time to catch Stephen hauling Will out of the classroom. Sighing, he entered and offered a polite smile to the woman he saw sitting at the big, mahogany desk. "Hello. I'm Luke Garroway, Jonathan's step-father." He stuck out his hand and the blonde woman shook it.
"Camille Belcourt."
"I'm very sorry that you had to dedicate an hour of your time to 'babysit' my son for his misbehavior." Luke snapped his fingers in Jonathan's direction as a signal for the boy to rise from his seat, which he did promptly. The white-blonde boy gave a small wave of goodbye to Jordan before making his way over to complete the triangle of people. Luke nudged him.
"Ah, I am sorry, Ms. Belcourt." He apologized half-heartedly. She smiled politely.
"I only hope the next time we meet will not be in detention." was all she responded. Luke dipped his head once as means of farewell, before clutching Jonathan's wrist tightly and walking fast, the younger man in tow. To be honest, Luke didn't know what to do when they got home. It was a ridiculous way for his brood to get detention, but his disregard for authority had to be dealt with; besides, there is a very strict rule about getting in trouble at school and if he wavered now, Jonathan would not take him seriously again.
The sixteen-year-old offered no words to the man who raised him, merely grunts of protest if his wrist was yanked on too hard. Knowing he was in trouble, Jonathan decided to remain silent unless he was spoken to; the last thing he wanted was to infuriate Luke any further than he already seemed to be.
Once they reached Luke's pickup, Jonathan was released. "Get in." The man ordered, opening the passenger door and waiting. There were miscellaneous items on the seat, so Jonathan had to climb in head-first to gather them up and toss them to the back. Luke glanced down to see why the boy was taking so long to get in, when he noticed the rump mistakenly presented before him. As another way of letting his child know he meant business, he applied one sharp, stinging swat, making Jonathan yelp half in pain and half in surprise. Luke was about to smack him again, and he sensed it, so he quickly just shoved everything out and plopped onto the seat. The car door shut and Luke appeared in the driver's seat moments later, starting the car and driving off without another word.
~0~
"Alec, can I watch cartoons?"
Alec glanced down from his book to find his baby brother looking at him with big doe eyes. He blinked once, undeterred.
"No." He stated simply, turning his attention back to his book. Max gaped at him.
"But you aren't even watching the television! C'mon, please?" His bottom lip protruded in a pout, making the nine-year-old look even younger. Alec sighed, not even looking at the kid.
"I said no, Maxwell."
"But why?"
"Because you ate my last popsicle." Alec knew he was being a bully, especially since the kid was so young, but he couldn't help it. He was the most mature of the three Lightwood kids, but even he was entitled to a few moments of immaturity. Max huffed and turned in the direction of the kitchen.
"Mom! Alec won't let me watch TV!"
Alec's jaw fell slack as he put the book down to stare at his little brother. He could not believe he just ratted him out like that.
"Alexander! Don't be mean to your brother." Maryse distractedly hollered back from the kitchen. Max stuck his tongue out at him. Alec imitated the motion.
"She said not to be mean. She never said to give up the TV. Go watch cartoons in your room or something."
Max simply stared at his older brother. Two can play this game, big bro.
Max saw their father crossing the living room and decided he'd use him against Alec. He mustered up some crocodile tears and ran up to Robert, tugging his hand to gain his attention. When he noticed the tears, Robert immediately squatted down and looked at his son with concern. "What's wrong, kiddo?"
"Alec (sniffle) is being (sniffle) mean to me (half-sob). He won't (hiccup) let me watch cartoons (whine). He's not even using the TV, Daddy! He's reading." Robert glanced over to his eldest son seated on the couch, as Max said, reading a book with the television playing nonsense in the background. He could not believe the way Alec was treating his brother.
Robert stood up and walked over to Alec, Max trailing behind. The man snatched the book out of Alec's hand in a split second. His son glared up at him.
"Dad, I'm reading that." He commented snobbishly, holding his hand out for the book. Robert raised an eyebrow at his boy, wondering where this attitude had suddenly emerged from. He decided he didn't care; he'd put an end to it immediately. Instead of handing the book back, Rob gave it to Max to hold on to and simply looked at Alec. "Hey! Dad, that's not fair! I want my book back."
When Alec leaned forward to try to take it from Max, Robert stretched out his arm and grabbed the back of Alec's belt, holding him half bent over the couch's arm. He swatted him once, ignoring the sounds of protests emitting from his child.
"Alexander Gideon Lightwood. Your little brother kindly asked you if he could watch his cartoons here, since you were not paying attention to the television, but instead reading. Now, if you are not using the television in the family room and someone wants to use it, you allow them to, no arguments." At the end of his mini-lecture, he struck the seat of Alec's pants again, eliciting a grunt from the boy. He continued, "Furthermore, if I catch you treating either of your siblings the way you were just a moment ago, I will have you over my knee so fast, your head will spin!" Swat! "Do I make myself clear?" Smack!
Silence.
Swat! Smack! Whack!
"Do I make myself clear?" Robert repeated, losing patience fast.
"OW! Yessir, crystal clear." Tears sprang to Alec's eyes, but he choked them down, lest Max see them. "I'm sorry, Maxie. TV's all yours."
Robert finally released Alec, who plopped back on the couch with a grimace of pain; his face was as red as a tomato, having been thoroughly embarrassed at being scolded that way in front of his younger sibling. Max returned the book to his older brother and sat next to him on the couch, quickly grabbing the remote and changing channels. Rob observed his boys for a brief moment before continuing on his path to the kitchen.
Just as their father disappeared around the corner, Isabelle bounded down the stairs. Both boys looked up from the couch.
"Which one of you got hit? I could hear the smacks from my room!"
Alec rolled his eyes and raised his arm half-way in the air, letting his sister know that he had been the one on the receiving end. As if Max was ever on that end, anyways. He got special treatment for being the baby, which usually didn't bother Alec, but that depended on his mood -and Alec was prone to mood swings.
Luckily, Isabelle questioned no further, instead taking a seat on the other side of Max. Alec glanced over at them and ruffled Max's hair as his real apology. The little boy understood and leaned his head against his brother's arm as his apology for getting him in trouble. Isabelle noticed her brothers' interaction, half-wishing she was part of it.
~0~
Enthralled in the art of listening and watching as Jem played the violin, Jace didn't even notice his father had been calling his cell phone. The violinist paused a moment to look at his friend, slightly bemused.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because you're beautiful." Jace responded without skipping a beat. Both boys laughed as Jem playfully shoved Jace away.
"You mean my violin playing is beautiful. Come now, stop staring, it's rude. You don't see me openly gawking when you or William plays the piano, now do you?" He reprimanded before preparing to start practicing his instrument again.
"So, you admit that while you don't openly gawk, you do secretly admire?" Jace raised his eyebrows, smirking. Jem shook his head, holding back a grin of his own.
"Herondales. Far too cocky."
Right as the bow made contact with the violin, Jem's cell phone rang. He sighed, knowing he'd get in trouble if he didn't practice at least the half hour his father wanted him to. Setting the instrument down, the boy picked up his phone, not recognizing the number.
"Hello?"
"Jem? This is Jace's Dad. Is my son with you, by any chance?"
"Yessir, he's right here. I'll put him on for you."
Jem handed the phone to Jace. The blonde answered as he checked his own phone, realizing he had missed calls. Uh oh.
"Jace Herondale! Do you know how many times I've rang your cell? The point of you having a phone is so that people can get in contact with you! Where is your phone, young man?"
Jace swallowed at hearing his father's tone. He silently cursed Will for putting him in such a bad mood. "It's next to me, sir."
"Then why the hell didn't you answer it?!"
Jace winced. "I… Jem was playing his violin and it drowned out the sound of my phone. I'm really sorry, Dad, I didn't ignore your calls on purpose. The only reason Jem even heard his phone is because he had literally just taken a break."
Dead silence from the other end of the line. It lasted so long, Jace thought his father must have hung up on him. Then, "Alright son. Fine. I'm picking you up in about fifteen minutes, so be ready."
"Yessir." Jace hung up the phone and handed it back to Jem, who was looking expectant. "I'm not sure if I'm in trouble or not." He shrugged.
"Jian Ming! Nǐ bìxū bàn xiǎoshí hái méiyǒu wánchéng."
Jem bowed his head as his mother strode into the room, looking stern. His parents were strict about most things, his practices being one of the main things. He loved the violin, and could play as much as he wanted, but he had to play at least a half hour for his parents to be satisfied.
"Shì de, māmā. Duìbùqǐ."
Ke Wen Yu nodded before making her way back to her paperwork in the living room. Jace waited until she left before he looked at Jem.
"What the hell were you two saying?"
Jem chuckled. "She was scolding me for not playing my violin for the entire half hour. And I apologized."
Jace shook his head, a little enviously. He thought it was nice that Jem could speak Chinese so fluently with his mother. "I don't understand if she knows English, why she still rebukes you in Chinese."
"Beats me. Although half of our normal conversations are a mix of Mandarin and English either way." Jem shrugged. He began practicing on his instrument again before he was admonished for a second time.
Just as promised, fifteen minutes later, Stephen pulled up his car in front of the Carstairs home. He got out of the car, pausing to decide whether or not to bring Will in as well or leave him there. He finally turned and opened the door for his nephew, which Will took as a sign that he had permission to leave the car. He was stopped before he could go far.
"If you utter just one word out of line…" Stephen let the threat hang. William knew full meant what he meant to say, and when he makes a promise, the boys know that he's going to keep it.
Will knocked on the door to Jem's house and they waited patiently until Jonah answered the door with a big smile.
"Hey, Stephen. Good to see you again. I assume you're here for Jace. He's in the music room with Jem." His British accent was thick and beautiful, making Will wish he could speak like that. It took him an eternity to successfully master the art of impersonating a brit. Jonah looked over at Will as Stephen entered the house; the way he glanced at him was in a stern, paternal way. He'd known the boy since he'd been brought into this world, he figured he had the right to scold him.
"William. I heard you got into a bit of trouble at school today." He commented as he allowed Will passage into his home. The boy had the graciousness to bow his head and look shameful.
"Yessir, I did. But it won't be happening again for a long time; if I can mind my tongue that is." He mumbled.
Jonah clapped him on the shoulder. "At least you know what your follies are. So long as you know what to fix, there's always a way to do it." Will nodded and followed the adult into the music room where Jem, Jace, and Stephen were in.
At first, Stephen didn't say anything as he walked in. He simply stood there taking in the beautiful, calming sounds Jem was producing with his instrument. It was exactly what Stephen needed at the moment.
After a few minutes of playing, Jem glanced up and realized that Jace's father was standing there. "Oh! Mr. Herondale! I didn't see you there. Uh, hello."
Jace turned around in his seat as his dad came over to him and kissed him on the head before turning his attention back to Jem. "Hello, Jem." He chuckled. "You're getting even better at that violin, if that's even possible."
Jem blushed at the praise. "Thank you, sir." He glanced down at his watch; he had a minute before the thirty were up. "One moment." He played quickly for his remaining 60 seconds, then stopped. "Now, I'm finished practicing."
"Absolutely lovely. You have a gift, kiddo." Stephen reached out to ruffle the teen's hair as Jonah came in, Will walking solemnly behind him. He had heard Jem's playing since before he came into the room and wished his nerves weren't so jittery so that he could have appreciated the sound more. "I'm afraid I have to be leaving now. It was nice to see you again, son. Jonah. Wen Yu." He amended as the Chinese woman strode in at the last minute. She smiled graciously, bowing slightly to show respect, before turning to her son.
"Is your half hour up yet, young man?" She asked as if it were a rhetorical question. Jem furrowed his brows in confusion.
"Shì de, māmā." He answered, nodding. She shook her head at him.
"You wasted seven minutes in the middle of practice. Once you make them up, you'll be finished. Kuài diǎn kuài diǎn zuò wán fēnzhōng."
"Awh, Mom! Mā, zhè bù gōngpíng. Please, it's only seven minutes!" He protested. His mother gave him a look -one she reserved for when he was really in trouble -not so much because of the minutes of practice but more because she was astonished that he would dare talk back, especially when they had guests. Jem swallowed nervously at the look, remembering that although his parents were lenient in some things, displaying lack of respect was not one of them. "Sorry. Wǒ jiāng shì hǎo de, mama." He bowed his head reverentially, leaving Stephen in awe. He knew the Carstairs were strict parents -sometimes stricter than he or the Lightwoods -and as well behaved as Jem naturally was, he still never thought that the boy could be brought to repentant submission with only a look from his mother. She nodded to show she forgave him but the look on Jonah's face suggested he was going to speak to his boy about this afterwards anyways.
The Herondales all said their goodbyes, taking a little longer than expected after Jem, who remained seated, had hugged Will around the waist and refused to let go. He knew his best friend was in trouble and he didn't want him to leave just yet.
"James, release him this instant." Jonah commanded with a firm, but gentle tone, once he noted his son would not be doing so any time soon. "That means right now, kiddo."
Jem stubbornly shook his head 'no' and buried it in Will's shirt as he hugged him tighter. Stephen found himself not becoming angry in neither boy, even though he felt he should have been. Jace observed his dad warily, ready to get out of the line of fire the moment he might need to.
"Jian Ming, you heard your father. They have to go, baby." Wen Yu half-coaxed, half-rebuked. Still, Jem refused. He wasn't doing it to be particularly difficult, or willfully disobedient. He just wanted to keep William with him for a few more moments. Even though he knew this scene would only get Jem a punishment afterwards, he still clung to Will, his arms wrapped securely around his thin waist. Stephen finally intervened, coming over to gently but surely, pry apart Jem's fingers.
"Jem, I'm not going to kill him. You'll see him again, don't worry. But right now, I need to take Will home. He's in enough trouble so his nerves must be killing him. No matter what time we get home, I'm afraid William will be punished. Plus, the more you resist your parents' authority, the harder they'll come down on you. Thank you for being concerned, but you've gotta let go now, bud."
Jem listened to Stephen's words and eventually unwrapped himself from Will, who in turn, ruffled his hair. The three adults were glad that the boys loved each other so much, but this was not the time to be loving to the point of disobedience, and Jem knew it.
Finally, the Herondales were able to make their exit and Jem was left with two upset parents. He fidgeted in his seat, mentally preparing himself if his father suddenly decided to whisk him up from his seat and smack him.
"James." Wen Yu spoke, using Jem's English name for once. "Look at me." She waited until he did so. "I understand why you were holding onto Will. I know he's in trouble and you just want to keep him safe, but this was not a good time. When your father and I tell you to let go, you let go. Given the situation, we might have to tell you twice but no more than three times, young man."
The young Carstairs nodded acceptance of his mother's words, knowing he'd be a very lucky boy if he got off with just the lecture. However, he was seriously doubting that would happen. His suspicions were proven correct a moment later.
"Stand up, wǒ de háizi. Hold out your palms." She commanded. Even though they lived in America, Wen Yu dealt out less severe editions of Chinese punishments to her child from time to time. Jem rose from his seat and did as his mother asked, waiting obediently, under his father's gaze, as his mother returned with a ruler. He bit his lip, already knowing what would happen. The last time he'd gotten the ruler used on his hands was when he was twelve and decided to touch everything he was instructed not to, until he finally broke something.
Without uttering another word, Wen Yu swung the ruler down on her son's open right palm. Although it didn't hurt as much as he expected it to, it stung enough to make Jem pull his hand back, having not received that type of discipline in nearly five years. Jonah gently grabbed his kid's hand and offered it back up to the ruler, holding him by the wrist so as to prevent Jem from moving again.
Crack! Crack!
Jem bit back a whimper as the sting in his right hand increased. After those three licks were completed, his mother moved on to Jem's left hand while his father held it.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The three whacks came down rapidly on his left hand, completing the punishment. Jem bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelping. As soon as his father released his wrist, the chastised boy began to massage his palms. Jonah put a finger under his son's chin and lifted his eyes to his own.
"Jem, that was not pleasant in the least bit for any of us, and I'm sorry that you were punished, but I hope you understood why that was. Did you?" Jem nodded and his father prompted him to elaborate.
"My hands were whacked because I clung onto Will, even after I was told several times to let go." He recited softly. Jem loved his parents, who were his friends half the time and parents the other half. Yet, there were times when he felt that they could be too strict, his mother in particular, and this was one of the times he felt that way. He would never confess to feeling that way, however, as it would only lead to a long talk that he did particularly want to have; he just wanted to go lock himself in his room. So, instead of arguing, he nodded in understanding at whatever his parents said, heading upstairs to his room after being dismissed, not coming out for the remainder of the evening.
