When Simon and Clary were outside in the hallway, the apartment door separating them and Jace, Simon hugged Clary again. "I am so sorry, Clary," he said quickly, "I should have walked with you home. I shouldn't have stayed back at school to practice while I knew you were out there alone." He looked at her, his big, brown eyes reminding Clary of sad puppy eyes.

"Simon," Clary said, and was surprised over how calm she sounded. Inside it still felt like her heart was shattered over and over again and then shoved into a grind. "Please don't blame yourself for this, okay? If you had come with me, you would have seen it too."

"But then we would have been together at least," Simon replied slowly. Clary didn't know what to say to this, but just hugged him tighter. Simon raised one arm and pushed her gently away to get some distance between them, and then studied her up and down.

"You really need to let me buy you a coffee," Simon said. "You look like hell." He smiled, took Clary's arm and then dragged her out of the building.

"But Simon!" Clary exclaimed as they walked down the street, "I haven't showered or changed clothes since yesterday!" Simon grinned. "Well, too late to do anything about that. Your personality has always been like a caveman's, it's just for the better that your looks reflect it."

"Simon!" Clary said with in a menacing voice, but smiled and hit him playfully in the shoulder. This was what she had always loved about Simon; he could make her feel better no matter what had happened. They walked into a small coffee shop and Simon ordered coffee for them both. The young barista smiled as she took Simon's order.

"Are you going to take it with you or sit here?" She asked in a friendly tone, but Clary could recognise it as the I-am-only-polite-with-you-because-you-are-my-costumers-tone.

"We'll take it with us."

"But Simon," Clary mumbled in a low voice, "can't we sit down for a couple of minutes? It's weekend, it's not like we have anywhere to be." Clary hadn't been inside of this café before, but it was very nice; the smell of coffee beans and chocolate surrounded them, and around the tables with white and red cloths sat people chattering happily with friends and family. Simon looked towards the barista, who already had begun on their order. He turned towards Clary, and furrowed his brows.

"Clary, we actually do… I am taking you to the police station. The police need to question you… about what you saw." Simon's voice was low and discreet, which Clary was grateful for. The last thing she needed was to get half a dozen ears tuned in on their conversation.

"Oh," she said lamely, not able to speak for a moment. She didn't even want to think about what she had seen. "But I already told the police everything I knew." Clary's voice had turned weak, and Simon placed a hand reassuringly on her shoulder. "I know, but that wasn't official. They need to do it at the police station." Clary bit her lip so hard that it whitened, but nodded. "I didn't know you had to do it either, but Jace had written it on the note he hung on my door."

Clary breathed out heavily. Jace. She still felt she needed to thank him properly, she just didn't know quite how. She did thank him, but it didn't feel like it was enough. If Clary would have had to stay alone that night, she wasn't sure what she would have done. Well, she was kind of forced on him by that police officer, but he could still have said no. Could he not? And any ways, he didn't need to comfort her until she fell asleep. Right?

Simon gave her a steaming cup of coffee and smiled to her. "Ready?" He asked, a small smile playing in the corners of his mouth. Clary could see that he was slightly worried, but he tried to hide it. Clary decided not to say anything. Clary shook her head quickly. She knew she was nothing but a witness, and she was just going to tell the police what she had seen, but it still felt like she was going to prison.

"Well," Simon said, slowly, "you don't really have a choice, princess," he said, smiled, and took her hand. While they were walking down the narrow street, Clary took careful sips of her scalding hot coffee, immediately feeling slightly more awake.

"Here we are," Simon said, and walked with her into the reception area of the police station. A lady walked up to them and smiled. It wasn't a warm smile – her lips were tightly pressed together. The smile was only a formality.

"Miss Morgenstern?" She said. She was very fluent in English, Clary thought – she could barely notice any of the characteristic Italian accent most people here had. Clary nodded. "Yes," she replied, and cursed silently when she heard how subdued her voice sounded.

"Please come with me," she said. "Do you have any identification on you?" Clary stopped walking for a second, unsure, but found her driving license in the pocket of her jeans. She didn't really use it – she didn't own a car, but she always carried it around, just in case. "Here," she said, and gave the policewoman the license.

The corners of the policewoman's mouth twitched, and Clary could see the shadow of a real smile on her lips. "Nice picture," she said and handed the license back to Clary. Clary studied her picture for a second, and blushed slightly. Her hair was one large bird nest, she looked pale which made her freckles stand out like small signal lights, and under her wide open eyes there were large, dark blue circles. She looked like a dead raccoon.

"You're not very photogenic, are you, Morgenstern?" Simon said. He had leaned over her shoulder, although he hardly needed to – Simon was at least a head taller than Clary now. She could hear the smile in his voice.

"Oh shut up," she said, "I was ill that day and didn't think about how visible that actually was," she grinned a little. "You brought ice cream and chocolate to me, remember? And then we watched a movie, but I can't remember which…"

"I think we watched the whole Lord of the Rings trilogy."

"Yeah, that's right," she said. "Remember me of how you managed to convince me?"

"Shut up, Morgenstern, you know it's impossible to fool me. You loved every second of it." Clary turned towards him and smirked. "Yeah I did. We should have a Lord of the Rings marathon soon."

"With the Hobbit-movies as well?"

"All right," Clary said with a shrug. They would have to set aside a whole weekend for that, probably. Clary had to admit for herself that she actually looked forward to it. Just her and Simon, like they were kids again.

"In here, miss," the policewoman said, pointing towards an open door that led into a white-painted room. Two of the walls were made up of mostly glass. In the middle of the room there was a table and two chairs on each side of it. Clary swallowed hard. It's all right, she said to herself. It's all right.

"And you have to wait outside here," the woman said to Simon, who had tried to follow them inside. He looked over at Clary.

"It's all right, Simon," she said to him, and tried to smile reassuringly, but she suspected that it looked like a grimace instead, so she turned around and entered the room. The policewoman entered the room and closed the door behind her.

o.O.o

Clary tossed around in the sofa, trying to find a comfortable position. She had her sketchpad propped up on her knees, a pencil in her hand. Both items felt so familiar, but something was off. She couldn't concentrate. The interview, or whatever she was supposed to call it, at the police station, had gone all right. She had just told what happened, and the policewoman said she would contact her if they had any further questions. Then Simon had taken her home.

Everything was fine. But she still felt like there was something wrong, something missing, something she hadn't told them about. Something important.

No, she thought. She had told them everything, every single detail she could remember. It was good, though, that she had been interviewed only the day after it happened, because the memory of the whole incident was fading quickly. It felt like holding water when your hands were cupped; no matter how tightly you pressed your fingers together, some water trickled out. It was inevitable. It was like her brain was trying to forget in order to protect itself.

Clary sighed and moved the sketchbook from her lap to the table. She had only managed to put a few lines down on the paper. It was late, and her apartment was shrouded in darkness, except for a small lamp on the table next to her. Clary could feel how tired she was, and decided she should go to bed. It was Sunday tomorrow, she remembered, and smiled of the thought that she could lay in bed for a long, long time.

Clary thought she heard a noise outside her balcony, not unlike the sound of gravel under a shoe. She rose from the sofa and walked towards the balcony. The door that led out to it was open, as it usually was late on the evening; the night air was always refreshing. Not like the burning temperatures during daytime, but still far from being cold.

"Jace?" She called out. "Is that you?" She walked out on the balcony. Even though the temperature was pleasant it was still colder than inside, and Clary could feel goosebumps appearing on her arms. "If you are making a habit of this, I swear I'll kill you. And you can sleep in the hallway tonight, I'm not really in the mood for company." There was no reply. The only response Clary got was the whispers of the wind and the slow song of the crickets hiding in the grass several floors below her.

She crossed her arms over her chest, sighed, and turned around to walk in. And in that moment, she could hear the sound of an object hitting the floor behind her. No, she thought, not an object. A person. The sound she had heard was the sound of boots hitting the ground. Not in the way she would have sounded if she had jumped from the roof – that's where the person must have come from – but soft, like a cat.

Clary could feel arms around her suddenly, pressing her body into stone hard muscle. The fabric she felt against her skin was coarse and itched horribly. "Who's Jace?" a voice whispered into her ear. The person turned her around and locked his hands around her wrists. His hair was as silvery as the moon, his eyes darker than a starless night sky. "Hello little sister. I've missed you." A small smirk played with his lips.

"Jonathan?"

A/N: Sorry for the long wait my lovelies! The storyline will pick up a little pace now, so I hope you all enjoy. Please tell me what you thought about this chapter! xx