A/N: Wow, I'm so sorry it's taken me over two weeks to post this! My computer's been struggling under all sorts of technical difficulties lately. :"( But the good news is that my new laptop will be arriving sometime next week, so I'll be able to post possibly twice as often as I have been! :D

And thank you guys so much for the amazing reviews on the last chapter! I got more than twenty! :D

So, for this chapter I sort of felt like I should switch back to some angsty stuff after the fluff ending of the last chapter. Hope you like!

Jace held Clary's hand under the table, absentmindedly massaging his thumb in small circles over her knuckles.

Maryse had made homemade dinner about an hour ago. She usually insisted that everyone in the Institute sit down and eat a family dinner together, but the Lightwood 'family' dinners had never been the same since Max had died. Tonight was no different. Robert had made up an excuse about needing to catch up on some diplomatic matters, and Alec had excused himself on the basis of needing some extra private training. That left Isabelle, Jace, Clary, and Maryse to finish their meals in a tense, uncomfortable silence.

Clary's stomach had started churning; doing flip-flops in her gut so frequently she thought she might throw up. She wasn't sure if the wrenching feeling came from the breaded something-or-another she was eating, or the sense of nervous apprehension she was feeling towards the tension that hung over the table, thick enough to slice through with a knife. But Clary didn't want to further upset Maryse by excusing herself from the table as well and refusing the home-cooked food.

Isabelle coughed softly. "This is . . . really good, mom," she said quietly, staring down at the red tablecloth in front of her. The silence always affected Isabelle the most, but she dutifully sat through every family dinner Maryse prepared. "What's in it?"

Clary's stomach clenched, to a point where she almost moaned in pain. She kept her grip on Jace's hand loose, but she set down the fork she held in her other hand and reached for her glass of water, hoping that the liquid would somewhat calm her stomach. But the cold water only served to intensify the clenching in her gut.

"It's a dish I used to make for Sunday dinners when you were younger," Maryse was saying. "Breaded, fried - " Clary never heard what the food was.

"Excuse me," Clary choked out in Maryse's direction before running for the bathroom.

"Clary!" Jace called after her, close at her heels.

She leaned over the seat of the toilet in the bathroom across the hall from the kitchens and threw up everything she had just eaten. Her throat burned, and her stomach felt horrible.

And then Jace was kneeling behind her, rubbing her back and holding her hair out of her face. After the spasming in her stomach started to recede, Clary felt a little embarrassed knowing that this was the second night in a row that Jace was watching her puke her guts up.

"Oysters," Jace mumbled behind her, "Maryse made fried oysters for dinner." Jace pressed short, gentle kisses on Clary's bare shoulders. "She must not have heard about last night," he said against her skin.

Clary coughed a few times and reached for a towel to wipe her face with. Only a slight churning feeling in her stomach remained, but it wasn't enough for her to think that she might throw up again. "That wasn't as bad as last night," She turned around, and Jace wrapped his arms around her. "I didn't eat as much. I'll be okay."

"Good," Jace whispered into her hair. "Because you promised you wouldn't get sick again. I'm still holding you to that."

Clary smiled and leaned into his chest, wincing when she moved. Stabbing pains still shot through her stomach every once in a while, but she still didn't think she would throw up again.

Jace didn't know what to think. Clary might or might not be getting sick again, and he had absolutely no idea what to do if she did. He remembered the flash of pure panic he had felt when she ran out of the dining room, and then the barrage of memories that had hit him when he saw her leaning over the toilet seat. Now she was shivering in his arms, looking pale and exhausted, but not like she was about to get sick like she had last night.

He shuddered under the weight of his memories of last night. How Clary had whimpered and clung to him in pain. How she had slipped in and out of consciousness, her skin burning against his.

She told him this time wasn't as bad, and he thought he believed her, he wanted to believe her, but he couldn't shake the feeling of dread hanging over them.

"Can you walk?" Jace asked her, wanting to get her to bed in case anything did happen.

"Yeah, I think so," Clary used his arm as leverage to stand up, but Jace stopped her before she could leave the bathroom.

"Wait," he ordered. "Clary, are you sure you're alright?" He laid his hand on her cheek.

"Yes," Clary's voice shook, enough to set off another pang of worry in Jace's mind. "I just want to go lay down." She looked up at him, her expression a mixture of exhaustion and trust.

"Okay," Jace felt a sudden need to scoop her up in his arms and cradle her like a baby. And he did. Clary gave a surprised little gasp as he swept her up, bridal-style, off her feet. She relaxed after a moment, not even bothering to question his action. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, and Jace saw how tired she really was. Clary's arms snaked around his neck, and she held on to him with enough force that he could tell her stomach was hurting again. He murmured comforting words to her as he left the bathroom, taking long strides down the white hallway to his bedroom.

Isabelle was waiting at his door. "Jace!" She stopped him, "Mom wanted me to say she was sorry, and she didn't know that Clary was allergic, and she'll call Jocelyn to come back from Luke's if Clary – " Isabelle finally noticed that Clary was barely conscious and Jace was carrying her, and she cut herself off, her dark eyes widening in surprise. She pushed Jace's bedroom door open for him and stepped out of the way. "Do you want mom to call Jocelyn? I think she can be here in maybe ten minutes," Isabelle looked worriedly at Clary, who was still limp in Jace's arms.

"No, Clary will be fine after she rests. You can go get her a glass of water, and tell mom not to worry," Jace spoke calmly, even though waves of panic were still washing over him. He laid Clary's tiny form on his bed and pulled a plain blue blanket over her. He knew she would be fine, he knew that she wouldn't end up feverish and crying out in her sleep, but flashes of images from last night kept running through Jace's head and making him wince in fear, even though he knew that wouldn't happen again.

Isabelle silently left the room, closing the maple wood door behind her.

A few moments after the handle clicked shut, Clary's eyes fluttered open. "Jace?" She reached for his hand, and Jace gently laced his fingers with hers. Clary rolled over on to her side and looked up at him, "Could I have some water? My mouth feels all yucky."

She made a face that matched her words, and Jace let out a short laugh. He kneeled next to the bed and rested his elbows on the blanket in front of her, all of his previous fear of her being sick disappearing. "Isabelle went to get a glass for you. She'll be back in a few minutes," Jace told her, reaching his free hand out to brush a stray lock of red hair out of her face. "How's your stomach?"

"Better," Clary smiled at him, and Jace couldn't help smiling back. Then Clary edged backwards on the bed and motioned for Jace to lie next to her.

Jace lay down in the space she made for him, curling his body around hers. Clary tucked her arms between them and looked up at him again, her green eyes questioning. Jace knew what she wanted. He bent forwards and pressed his lips to hers tenderly, carefully. The electricity he always felt when he touched her was there, but it was muted. After a moment he pulled back enough so that he could speak against her lips. "Now, what is Isabelle going to think when she walks in?" Jace asked, grinning down at Clary.

She giggled, "She's going to think that you must love me a whole bunch to be kissing me when I probably taste like puke."

"I do love you," Jace told her, his smile widening, "And don't worry – you don't taste too bad." He laughed when Clary's expression turned apologizing. "I was kidding," he said teasingly, leaning down to kiss her again.

Right as their lips met, the bedroom door swung open. "Oh, jeez, you two!" Isabelle exclaimed. "You know, the least you could do is put a locking rune on the door so I don't walk in on something." She sighed, "And, Clary, I brought you some water." She held up a tall, clear glass filled almost to the top.

"Thanks, Izzy." Clary sat up, resting her arm on Jace's chest so that she could lean over his body to reach the glass. She drank about half of the liquid before setting the glass down on the table beside Jace's bed.

"You're welcome," Isabelle raised an eyebrow in Jace's direction. "Do you need to borrow my stele?" She asked, "Because I really don't feel like hearing what I heard earlier today again."

A/N: Cliffhanger! Is Isabelle going to be mad at them for not putting a silencing rune on the door? Don't worry though – I will have the next chapter up ASAP, so you won't have to wait another two weeks for what happens next! ;)

Since I'm going to have a lot more free time on my hands and a lot less trouble with my computer, I'll start replying to Reviews more often. So if you have any comments, recommendations, or questions, ask away! :)

And remember: The more reviews I get, the more of Jace in his boxers you get in the next chapter. I know, I totally need to make up for not posting for two weeks, and I absolutely will! ;D

Also, I was thinking that I might post a couple of stories I wrote a while ago for Maximum Ride. For those of you who have read the series: Good idea, or not? It's mostly angsty fluff between Fang and Max, with a little action mixed in.

xoxo,

Jace's Angel