Learning to Live
Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments series belongs to Cassandra Clare.
Chapter 6
The Institute
Jocelyn went to her daughter's door at five a.m. just to reassure herself. She peeked in through the open door and smiled. It was like she had been transported back three years. Simon and Clary lay side by side on the bed. Their hands twined together in between them.
Jocelyn gasped as she walked into her daughter's bedroom. Simon Lewis lay underneath the covers with her daughter. Instantly, she feared the worst. "What the hell is going on in here?!" She demanded. Clary and Simon jerked awake. Simon hit the floor, taking the covers with him. She caught sight of his pant leg and the strange character shirt he had been wearing the day before. Clary sat up and looked over the edge of the bed for a moment before turning her sleepy eyes back to her mother. Her daughter still wore her sleep clothes. A baggy grey T-shirt two sizes too large and a pair of black sleep pants. "Oh." Jocelyn muttered. Simon sat up at that moment and corrected his glasses.
"Wait…" Clary muttered. Her voice still thick with sleep was giving away to comprehension. "You thought…" She looked down at Simon and back to her mother. Clary's cheeks flushed as she laughed. "No. No. God, no. Mom. We were just sleeping!"
"Geez, Clary, tone down the disgust a little bit," Simon muttered as he detangled himself from the cover. His cheeks were red and he avoided looking at either Clary or her. Jocelyn instantly felt horrible for putting him in that position. Once again, he had been reminded that Clary didn't feel the same way. Like Elaine, she knew a broken heart was inevitable.
"Sorry," Clary apologized.
Jocelyn turned away from them and walked back down the hallway. Luke sat at the table already. Her black coffee cup sat on the table, ready for her. She smiled and picked it up. Luke looked away from his paper and smiled back.
"So, I noticed Simon wasn't on the couch…" Luke started. Jocelyn chuckled.
"Yeah, he slipped into Clary's room at some point during the night." Luke chuckled.
"Just like old times, huh?" He asked. She nodded.
"Just like old times," she whispered. She sighed and recalled the mature, haunted shine in her daughter's eyes. The innocence she had tried so hard to protect had been stripped from her. The quiet of her voice when she spoke and the way her legs shook just from the walk up the driveway spoke of the vegetative state she had been in. Jocelyn sank down in the chair across from her fiancé. "Except not…" Luke turned his brown eyes to her and set the paper down. He reached across the table and grabbed her hand in his. He ran his thumb over her palm as he spoke.
"She just needs time," Luke told her. Jocelyn looked up at him. "And support. Which she has in spades. Simon, Isaac, Adele, me, and you. And I'm sure when she goes to see Jace and the others, they'll be here too."
Jace held the bandage in place with his thumb and wrapped the other end round and round his hand. Clary's green eyes filled with hurt at his words flashed into his mind. He grit his teeth and pulled the bandage tight. He vaulted up from the bench and walked to the punching bag in the corner of the room. He rolled his shoulders and looked at the bag.
Clary's eyes filled with tears she refused to let shed. He threw a punch at the bag. It recoiled. He thought of his cruel words.
"You destroyed her," he recalled Isabelle's words. "Did you see her face?"
'Yes, yes, yes. God, yes…' He thought as he side stepped the bag's swinging back. He shoved his elbow into it. The bag jerked and bounced. Her face, that face, had been scarred into his brain since the day she disappeared. He punched the bag as it came back to him, it halted. Only to swing away from him again as he threw another punch into the center. He side stepped the bag again. He knew she wouldn't be fine when he uttered those words. 'Those were the last words I ever said to her.' His hands ached from the force of his punches, but he didn't stop. 'She disappeared thinking I hated her.' He threw punch after punch. Occasionally, his strikes were interrupted by a vicious uppercut that made the bag jump upward. He was so involved that he was unaware of his audience, unaware of his bleeding hands.
Alec leaned against the door and watched his parabatai beat the bag. The sound of Jace's strikes against the bag, the creaking of the chain that supported the poor bag had drew his attention to the room. He could see the blood spreading on the bandages he had wrapped around his hands. He sighed and wondered if Jace would let him heal his hands this time.
"Does it help?" He asked his parabatai as he set his stele to Jace's wrist. He glanced up at him. Jace wasn't looking at him. He was looking somewhere far away. "Does damaging yourself like this make you feel better?"
"Does it matter?" Jace returned. His voice was low; his tone filled with pain. Alec knew the pain he felt wasn't physical. His heart ached for his parabatai.
"Your welfare matters to me," Alec returned. "And I know it would matter to Clary too." He knew it was a below the belt hit. He could see it in the way Jace looked at him. Alec looked away as if not looking would make the guilt go away. 'I'm sorry,' he thought, 'but if low blows are the only way to get you take care of yourself more then so be it.'
It had worked, but only just. Jace tried and that's all Alec could really ask of him. He sighed. The only way Jace would fully be whole again was if Clary was found. It was like she had punched a hole in all of their lives when she vanished. He leaned back against the archway. 'You never know what you have until it's gone,' he thought. 'I suppose it's true.' After all, he hadn't known Clary was so important to him until she disappeared. He hadn't known that he would miss her.
Isaac couldn't stop glancing over at the vampire who sat so obviously in the sun. It was mind blowing. Adele was unbothered by it. She simply sat across from him, talking animatedly. It was almost like he thought he was human, like he didn't realize how drastically his life had changed.
"Keep staring at him like that and I'm going to start to wonder about your sexual orientation," Clary deadpanned from beside him. He looked over at her now and raised an eyebrow. She peered up at him from her book.
"You attract all kinds, don't you?" He returned. She tilted her head at him and closed her book. "A werewolf and a vampire."
"You're forgetting the most amazing warlock in history," Magnus drawled as he walked into the living room. "I'm almost insulted." Isaac rolled his eyes. Clary snorted and returned her eyes to her book so that she wouldn't have to look at Magnus' questioning yellow eyes. Isaac and Adele had arrived around nine. Magnus had shown up a few minutes ago. She knew that he was here to check up on her progress. She was trying to avoid that conversation for as long as possible. He didn't allow her distraction for long. "Clarissa," he spoke. She looked away from her book. "May I speak with you?" Even though he voiced it as a question, she could hear the demand. She closed her book and stood from the couch. He followed her from the living room and into her bedroom. He shut the door behind them and crossed his arms over his chest. She sat down in the middle of her bed and crossed her legs.
"I'm going to go see them today," she said as she wrapped her hands around her ankles. "You can stop with the disapproving stare now." Magnus sighed and sat down on the bed beside her. He looked over at her.
"I know I'm pushing you, but I can't say that I'm sorry." He looked away from her. Clary relaxed her grip on her ankles. She opened her mouth to say that she understood, but Magnus continued. "I've watched Alec run himself into the ground trying to find you." Shock caused her lips to fall open. Simon had told her that Alec had aided them, but she had no idea that he went searching for her on his own. "I've watched him chase lead after lead. Each time a lead would fall flat…he would come to me. His shoulders slumped, defeat following him around like a cloud for days…" He looked over at her now. "I'm not going to let something as small as your fear get in the way of stopping their pain." Clary reached across the distance and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I understand, Magnus," she told him softly. "I'm sorry you've had to witness it all…" Magnus chuckled drily and laid a hand over hers. "And I'm sorry that my reluctance has caused problems in your relationship…"
"You couldn't help that you were missing," he told her; amusement leaking into his tone. "And don't worry about Alec and me. We'll be fine. The make-up sex from this will be amazing." Clary scrunched up her nose and shook her head.
"Too much information, Magnus," she said. He grinned and shrugged one shoulder.
She got the taxi to drop her off a few feet from the Institute. She knew that Adele would frown on the distance, but she needed the time to gather her courage. She'd rest her legs in the elevator. As the taxi pulled away, she began to walk.
First, she thought of Alec. He had been open in his dislike of her, but it had faded into some sort of respect over time. Aside from little Max, she could probably talk to him the easiest. He hadn't hurt her.
As she passed the Institute gate, she thought of Isabelle. Isabelle had lashed out at her in anger. After much review, Clary realized why. She had wanted to save Clary from the pain of seeing Aline and Jace. She had more than likely knew that Jace had taken Aline upstairs. Clary pressed her hand to the doors of the Institute. She heard the lock sliding against the doors. She took a deep breath as the latch released. She pushed open the door and closed it behind her.
She sank down onto the floor of the elevator the minute it jerked upward. She pulled her legs up to her chest and crossed her arms. Lastly, there was Jace. He had only wanted to protect her, she saw that now; but it didn't make it alright. He could have been honest with her; he could have told her that the Clave would want to use her as a weapon, possibly even experiment on her. He didn't have to destroy her like that, but…she could have trusted him more. She could have trusted him to help her, to save her mother. She set her head down onto her knees. The bottom line was they were both at fault. Still, even lower than that line was the fact that he had hurt her. He had aimed to hurt her. She sighed. 'Now we are full circle…' she thought miserably. The elevator came to a stop. She grabbed ahold of the bar and pulled herself into standing. Church stared up at her from the floor. He blinked his cat eyes and meowed. Her eyes widened as he stepped forward and rubbed against her leg.
"Hey, Church," she greeted him as she reached down and scratched behind his ear. He purred. She smiled. "Anyone here?" The cat rubbed her leg one last time before trotting off down the hallway. She followed him. He stopped in the hall suddenly.
Max rounded the corner and froze. Red curls, green eyes, short figure. Clary. His grey eyes widened. "Clary!" He exclaimed. Her eyes widened as he launched himself over Church and wrapped his arms around her waist in a tight hug. Clary smiled and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
"Hey, Max," she greeted quietly. He stepped back. His grey eyes were bright as he pushed up his glasses. At twelve, he was the same size as her. She frowned. He grinned.
"You're back!" He stated. Clary nodded. "I can't wait to tell Jace and the others. Mainly Jace though cause, boy, has he missed you!" Despite the clenching of her heart, she couldn't help but smile. He was practically bouncing on his heels. She bit into her bottom lip.
"Where are the others exactly?" She asked. Max tugged on her hand to get her moving. She recognized the direction they were headed in. It was where she first really spoke to Isabelle: the kitchen.
"Mom and dad are in Idris on business. Jace, Alec, and Isabelle are out," Max explained. He looked over at her. "Looking for you." He added quietly. Clary swallowed. The sadness in his grey eyes shifted back to excitement. He grinned. "They are in for such a surprise." She chuckled and let him pull her into the kitchen.
"So, you're here alone," Clary stated easily. Church jumped up onto the counter. "Except for Church." She added as the grey cat stretched out on the counter. Max's expression turned exasperated.
"I'm old enough to be in the house on my own!" He lifted his left hand suddenly. "See? I've got my first mark!" He said proudly. She scratched her own Voyance rune.
"Oh yeah? You know how to cook?" She asked. Max blushed. He looked away and mumbled a quiet no. She thought she heard him mumble something about Isabelle not knowing how either. She chuckled. "Come on," she said as she walked toward the stove, "I'll give you a small lesson if you show me where everything is." He looked at her warily, but stepped forward to help her anyway.
"I hope you cook better than Isabelle…" He muttered as she filled the pan they had found with water. She laughed. She was about to say something when she noticed the contemplative look Max was giving her.
"What?" She asked. Max shifted onto his foot.
"Where have you been and are you okay?" He asked. Clary's eyes softened at the question.
"I've been in a coma for two years, Max," his grey eyes widened. She smiled teasingly as she put the pan on the eye and turned the stove on. "You think I would willing leave my manga buddy?" She asked, slightly serious. Max smiled; there was a small blush on his cheeks. "After all, I did promise to take you to that manga shop, didn't I?" Excitement lit in Max's eyes.
"Yeah, you did," he said with a wide smile. She returned his smile. Once she had voiced her idea to cook spaghetti, he had found the tomato sauce for her and the noodles.
"Thank you for being my helper," she said as she turned from the stove and leaned against the counter beside it. Max smiled.
"I'm just glad that you're here," he admitted quietly. "Now everyone can cheer up." Clary smiled sadly. She reached across the counter and promptly ruffled his hair. He yelled out in protest and smacked her hand away. She grinned.
'Definitely a little Simon,' she thought fondly. He glared at her and pushed his glasses up his nose. She just grinned wider. He rolled his eyes and smoothed his hair down. She chuckled and turned back to the boiling water. She snapped the spaghetti noodles in half and dropped them into the water.
"What have you been up to these two years besides sprouting like a weed?" She asked. Max laughed.
"It's not my fault you're short!" He reminded her. "I've started my training." He said proudly. She listened attentively as he started to tell her how Alec, Jace, and his dad took turns training him. She imagined Jace standing there, showing him how to hold the seraph blade. His golden eyes shining with affection and surprising patience. Longing swelled up within her again. She bit into her bottom lip and beat it down. "This one time a training session with Alec and Jace turned into a wrestling match. They had started arguing over who was the best with a seraph blade and it just escalated from there."
"Were they trying to teach you how to use a seraph blade?" She asked as she stirred the noodles to check their readiness. Max shook his head then he remembered that she couldn't see him.
"No, they just veered off topic. They had been coaching me through walking on the rafters." Clary couldn't help it; she paled. Max saw her face. "You're kidding me!" He gasped. "You're afraid of heights?!" She glared at him and pointed the spoon at him.
"You try getting jerked off of the hood of a truck by a flying demon and tell me how you feel after that…" Max's eyes shined suddenly with excitement. She realized what she had said and backtracked, "Wait. Don't try that," she waved the spoon back and forth as she spoke, "don't ever try that." Max dissolved into laughter. His laughter was contagious. Soon, the room was filled with good natured laughter. They couldn't look at one another without setting another round off. Meanwhile, Church just sat on the counter staring at the two humans like they had lost their minds.
Jace, Isabelle, and Alec rode in silence up the elevator. Five p.m. shined at her from her watch. They had been out following that one lead for two hours. Isabelle glanced over at her brothers. The defeat seemed to weigh down on both of them. She leaned her head back on the elevator wall and stared up at the light.
'Clary, where are you?' She wondered. Jace slid the gate to the elevator open. It was here that they veered off to their personal spaces. Alec, she knew, was heading to his room; Jace was more than likely heading to the training room; and she was heading to the kitchen to get some ice cream. Chocolate ice cream was the second best for depressing situations; the first was obviously cookie dough. It was as she was walking toward the kitchen that she smelt something delicious. 'Mom and dad must have come home,' she thought as she walked closer to the kitchen. She peaked into the kitchen, expecting to see her mom standing at the stove; but what she really saw caused her to freeze in place. A redhead flicked off the stove eye. Her curls cascaded down to brush the small of her back. Max doesn't seem at all uncomfortable with the young woman. In fact, he was talking to her as if she were a long lost friend. The woman picked up a bowl and filled it with spaghetti. She turned to Max. The position of the stove and Max's seat caused her back to still face away from Isabelle. She set the bowl in front of Max.
"Eat up," her voice was quiet, but so familiar. Isabelle stepped further into the room. Her heart was pounding in her chest. 'No way…' She thought. 'It's too good to be true…We were just out looking for you!' She turned and gave Isabelle a view of the side of her face. She crossed her arms onto the counter and leaned forward. Those familiar green eyes snapped her out of her shock. It was really her!
"Clary!" Isabelle exclaimed. The woman owning the name jumped and looked over at the kitchen archway. Max stopped mid-chew. His expression was suddenly guilty. Isabelle paid him no mind. She walked forward slowly as if expecting Clary to disappear if she moved to quickly. Isabelle's dark brown eyes filled with tears as Clary shifted onto her left foot.
"Isabelle…" Clary said quietly. Her green eyes took in the pale expression on the dark headed beauty's face. Worry raged within her suddenly. "You aren't going into shoc-umph!" Isabelle hit the smaller girl like a freight train before she could finish her question. Her arms locked tightly around Clary's waist. Clary's hands flailed slightly at her sides before she wrapped her hands around Isabelle's shoulders. It was then that she noticed Isabelle's shoulders were shaking.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I didn't stand up for you. I'm sorry that I didn't chase after you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" Isabelle sobbed. Clary's eyes filled up with tears. The lingering hurt she had felt at Isabelle's words washed away with her tears. Now, all she could think about was soothing her friend's pain. She moved her hands from Isabelle's shoulders to her biceps. She pushed her back gently and looked into Isabelle's dark brown eyes. Tears were streaking down her cheeks.
"I'm glad you didn't, Isabelle," she said softly. "If you had, you probably wouldn't be here." Isabelle wiped her eyes viciously with the back of her hand.
"What do you mean?" Clary sighed and began to tell Isabelle her story.
"After I left the Penhallows-" Isabelle stood up from the bar stool suddenly.
"Hang on, let me go g-" Clary knew her intention before she even finished her sentence. Fear and panic filled her. She vaulted up from her seat and grabbed Isabelle's wrist.
"Wait, please!" She exclaimed. Isabelle stopped and looked down at the hand on her wrist before looking up at Clary. Shock was clear in her dark brown eyes.
"I'm just going to go get-" she tried to explain.
"I know, but please…don't." Isabelle's brow furrowed. She stared into Clary's green eyes intensely. The fear and pleading she found there caused her to ease back down onto the barstool. Her mind was racing with questions. The main one being why. Why did Clary not want to tell the story to all of them? It would save her time. As if reading her mind, Clary said, "I want to do this one at a time. Otherwise…I don't know if I'll be able to get through it."
"Okay…" Isabelle agreed. Clary sighed and continued her story. Once again, leaving out the angel and how she got the blade from Sebastian. It was bad enough that she knew of her shame. When she was finished both Max and Isabelle wrapped their arms around her. She felt Isabelle running her fingers through her curls. After a few minutes, they released her. "Who do you want to see next?" Isabelle asked as she linked her fingers in front of her.
"Alec," Clary muttered. She avoided Isabelle's eyes. She knew she would see disappointment and sadness. She heard Isabelle sigh, but she didn't glance up.
Isabelle understood Clary's reluctance to see Jace, but that irrational annoyance swelled up within her. Jace's empty golden eyes—only truly lively during a battle—haunted everyone in the Institute even her mother and father. It was like, without Clary, he was half a man. There had been times when Isabelle wished they had never met Clary in that club; then the guilt of even thinking it would threaten to crush her. Isabelle glanced back at Clary, who sat with her ankles crossed on the barstool next to Max. 'She made Jace better before; I'm certain she can do it again…' Isabelle acknowledged, but the fear and panic she had seen in Clary's eyes haunted her. She knew that all of that fear and panic wasn't because of Alec in any way. It was because of Jace. 'Those words, the way he talked to her still haunt her. That's clear enough to see and she's had two years to stew in that hurt. Will she really want anything to do with him anymore?' Isabelle shook her head rapidly as if it could shake the thought away. Clary looked over at her and raised her red eyebrows. 'This is Clary!' She reminded herself. 'She snuck into Idris and broke more than enough laws for a woman who had lied to her for her whole life. She walked into a vampire's lair-filled with hundreds-just to save her best friend. She practically told her father to go fuck himself for Luke and Jace. And then, even after all finding out they were brother and sister, she still loved him. This should look like a minor pebble compared to the stepping stones they've had to hurdle!'
"Let me show you to his room," she said finally as she slipped from the barstool. Clary blinked as Isabelle took her hand and pulled her toward the kitchen exit. Clary glanced back at Max. He smiled encouragingly at her.
"See you soon, Clary!" Max said as he returned to his spaghetti. "This really is delicious…" He muttered as Clary's red curls disappeared out into the hallway.
Clary stumbled to keep up with Isabelle's brisk walk. She could already feel the burn starting and knew that the shaking would be close behind. She bit into her bottom lip. 'I suppose I shouldn't have stood the entire time in the kitchen…' She thought.
"Isabelle!" Clary called for her attention. "Can you slow down?" She asked. Isabelle slowed instantly. A small flush rose onto her cheeks. The pain in Clary's legs receded slightly, but they didn't stop the vigorous shaking. Isabelle noticed and instantly felt ashamed.
"Sorry…" Isabelle whispered. "I just want you to…"
"Get Alec over with?" Clary finished for her.
"I know…it's awful, right?" She asked rhetorically.
"No, I get it. You've lived with him these past two years. You've seen what this is doing to him," Clary said. Isabelle's eyebrows furrowed; then there was a look of recognition in her eyes. 'Why didn't she just say Jace?' Isabelle wondered as she looked over at the redhead who was staring at a painting on the wall of the Mortal Cup. 'Is it because saying his name is too painful or…does she hate him now like he had thought she would?' Clary's green eyes moved down the painting, resting for a moment on the angel, Raziel who clutched the Mortal Cup in his hand. 'If that's true…then what's keeping her here? Will she leave right after talking to them?'
"Clary," Isabelle called. Clary turned her eyes away from the Sword in Raziel's hand to see Isabelle's dark brown eyes staring at her.
"Yeah?" Clary asked.
"After you talk to Jace and Alec come find me," Isabelle said. "I'll be in the library." Clary blinked and nodded.
"Okay…" She agreed easily. Isabelle pointed toward the room they now stood in front of.
"This is Alec's room," she said before walking away. Curiosity raged in her as she watched Isabelle walk away. Clary looked back toward the wood and raised a shaking hand. She tightened her fist.
'This is just Alec.' She reminded herself as she brought her fist down on the door in a light knock. 'Remember? You were dying to talk to him a few minutes ago because you thought him the easiest.'
"Come in," she heard his familiar voice say. She lowered her hand to the knob. Maybe she should give him so type of warning. She bit into her bottom lip and wet her lips, readying to say something. What kind of warning would you give someone in this situation? She sighed. There wasn't one. So, she just said.
"Okay…" And twisted the knob. She looked through the crack as she pushed it open. Alec's room was very different from Jace's empty, clean room. Alec had pictures of his family up on the blue walls. She let her eyes roam onto the pictures. There was one of a younger Max-maybe at seven-sitting atop Jace's shoulders. Max was looking down at Jace who was looking up at him. Both were smiling. The picture pulled a small smile onto her lips. She looked toward the next one. Alec, Jace, and Isabelle stood side by side in the frame. Each held their own weapon. Alec had his bow loosely clutched in his right hand, the strap of his quiver could be seen across his chest. Isabelle stood in the middle with her whip wrapped around her wrist. Jace stood at the end, seraph blade in hand. The blade was glowing slightly even in the picture. There was a look of pride in all of their eyes. Jace looked around fifteen which meant Isabelle had been fourteen and Alec had been sixteen. Vaguely, she wondered what had caused such a prideful look as she turned her eyes away from the picture. The next thing her eyes landed on was Alec himself. He was busy putting something away in his nightstand. He had certainly grown into himself. His hair was slightly longer and more normally cut; his broader shoulders were accented perfectly by the T-shirt he now wore. "Alec?" She said, trying to warn him. His shoulders tensed. She knew then that he didn't recognize her voice. It was slightly hoarse and they had never really had an involved conversation, so it wasn't a surprise. He spun around and promptly dropped whatever had been in his hand. She glanced down for a moment to see what it was. It was a bottle of bruise cream. Her eyes returned back to him, now searching for injuries. She found a small yellowing bruise on his forearm. A bruise like that only came from using the bow without a bracer; Simon used to have bruises like that all the time.
"Clary…" Alec breathed. Her attention was pulled away from the bruise. The shock in his blue eyes would have been funny if she weren't so shocked. He was staring at her like Isabelle had been. Like he was torn between disbelief and dumfounded happiness.
"I tried to warn you," she said. His lip twitched upward. Unlike Isabelle, he didn't move in to hug her. He simply stared at her as if trying to figure out where she had come from and if she was really there. She shifted onto her foot. "I have to apologize," she started rambling as she knew she would. His stare was making her a little uncomfortable. "Magnus reassured me that you guys would be okay, but still…I heard how angry you were with him." She knew she wasn't making any sense. Just from that little bit, there was no way he would know what she was talking about, but-
"You were the client," he surprised her. Still, she couldn't stop the rambling now.
"Well, technically Isaac, the guy who found me, was the client. I was just the….I guess patient?" He looked completely confused and still a little shocked. She blushed and backtracked for him. "How about I start from the beginning?" He eased himself onto his bed.
"That's always a good place to start," he said drily. She moved to sit in the floor. Her legs were close to their limit. If she didn't sit down, she would humiliate herself by collapsing in his room. "What are you doing?" He asked bluntly. She froze.
"Um…sitting?"
"I know that, stupid," he drawled, "Why are you sitting on the floor?" She blushed.
"I didn't…uh…think you'd want me to sit next to you and there isn't really a chair in here…soo…" Alec rolled his eyes.
"I've been searching for you for two years. I think it's safe to say I'm not going to kill you for sitting next to me," he said. Clary bit into her bottom lip. She could hear the sincerity and conviction in his words; there was only one problem. She couldn't get up. Irritation flashed onto his face. "Well?" She blushed hotly.
"I can't get up, Alec," she whispered, ashamed and embarrassed. Alec's look of irritation turned into one of concern in the time it took her to blink.
"What do you mean?" He asked as he rose from the bed. "Is there something wrong?" He walked to where she sat in the middle of his floor on his dark blue rug. She thought she saw small flicks of glitter embedded in the fabric.
"I've been in a coma for two years, Alec. My limbs are a little weak," she told him. His blue eyes softened in a way she never thought she would see from him. He was looking at her as if she was his friend. He knelt down and took her hands in his.
"I'll help you. It's the least I can do…after all…" She had the feeling she wasn't supposed to be able to hear that last sentence. He pulled her up, letting her lean some of her weight onto him. Her legs shook strongly. Her knees threatened to buckle, but she forced herself to move forward. Her eyes locked on his bed.
'It's just a short distance,' she told herself. 'You can do this.' Pride filled her when she reached the bed without falling again. She smiled widely at Alec. He blinked at her in surprise.
"Thank you," she said, squeezing his hands before letting go. She laced her hands together in her lap. "I suppose I should start my story now, huh?" He nodded as he sat down next to her. She sighed and began the story she had already repeated three times already.
His jaw was jumping sporadically when she finished. She could see the rage burning in his blue eyes. Unlike many people, whose eyes darkened when angered, Alec's eyes seemed to burn like crystals. Hard and bright. It was beautiful now that it wasn't directed at her.
"I'm sorry," came through his clenched teeth.
"What are you apologizing for?" She asked. Alec turned flashing blue eyes to her.
"I didn't do anything-"
"Alec." Clary said shortly. Alec stopped. "Jace is your parabatai. I understand why you stayed back. None of you had any way of knowing that Sebastian wasn't really who he said he was. None of the things that happened to me was your fault! Stop beating yourselves up!"
"I knew what his words were doing to you though," Alec said. Clary froze.
"Oh…" She recognized now what he was talking about. She turned her eyes away from him.
"And I didn't stop him…" Alec finished as if she hadn't said anything.
"I don't think anyone could have, Alec," Clary whispered. Jace had been determined. He had set his mind on hurting her. The familiar pain bloomed in her chest, tightness choked her throat, and her eyes burned. 'No.' She smacked her legs and stood up. She turned back to Alec who was staring at her curiously. "There's spaghetti in the kitchen," she told him. Suddenly, he looked wary. She snorted in amusement. "Don't worry. I made it." He blinked.
"How long have you been here?" He asked incredulously.
"About half an hour now," she answered. His eyes widened. She swallowed and asked the question that made her stomach pool with dread. "Can you take me to where Jace is?" Suddenly, his blue eyes hardened.
"You haven't been to see him yet?" He asked. Clary refused to look away from his angry eyes. She raised her dark red eyebrows.
"If I didn't do this one by one, I wouldn't be able to do it at all," she told him calmly. The anger melted into sad understanding. He nodded and started walking toward the door. Clary followed him on shaking legs. They walked side by side out in the hallway. After a few steps, he looked over at her.
"Are we really that bad?" He asked. She shook her head.
"Out of the three of you? You seemed the easiest to speak too," Clary told him. He blinked at her in surprise. "I wasn't close to you." She explained. Understanding filled his eyes. "And you never did anything to hurt me…" Sadness then. She smiled. "Call Magnus and tell him that you forgive him, yeah?" He blushed. "He jokes about the make-up sex he thinks is coming," the blush worsened. Clary swallowed her laugh, "But I know it bothers him that you aren't talking." They fell silent again. She got the feeling that they were nearing the place when Alec stopped. She turned and looked at him.
"Just keep going down this way," he motioned in the direction she was facing, "You'll know when you get close. And welcome back," he said it so quietly she would have thought she had imagined it if she hadn't been looking at him. Clary smiled softly. He nodded and turned on his heel.
"It's good to be back," she said to his retreating back before she turned and started walking again. Her legs were still sore and shaky, but she felt much more confident in her steps. Her mind raced as she walked. Every moment she had ever had with Jace-the good and the ugly-circled in her head. Suddenly, all she wanted was to see him. She recalled how horribly she had missed him during her coma. She had wanted nothing more than to be with him then, but when she awoke she was paralyzed by fear. That fear had overpowered everything.
The sound of fists hitting leather and the groaning of a chain reached her ears. She was here.
(A/N: I'm so evil! Lol. kailey (guest), I loved your review. You'll get your jealousy moments later, don't worry.)