Quickie update. Here's the low down:

-Short Chapter

-Not supposed to be up

-Updating in secret

-Will update Last Hope as soon as possible

-Just updated Fructus Arboris Venenato on other account, another Clonthan fic, go check it out

-Enjoy the chapter

-Love you all

-P.S. Don't hate me by the end of this

Jace unlocked the condo door with his free hand, Clary cradled against him, asleep, as he walked into the room. He laid her down on the bed gently, not wanting to disturb her sleep as he pulled the covers back before setting her beneath them. He knelt beside the bed, slipping off the too large boots he'd made her borrow. Her breathing was light, but deeper than the last time he'd checked, hopefully meaning she was beginning to heal. He pulled the plush, white comforter over her before turning off the lamp on the nightstand. He checked the window, pulling aside the curtain ever so slightly to look out over New York in their twelfth story condo.

Maryse had given him her credit card and the keys to their condo in the center of New York, just above Time Square before Jace had to practically carry Clary out the back door, taking his father's car. By the time Clary had stopped panicking, paranoid that her brother or father was following them even after many reassurances from Jace that they weren't, they'd only been halfway to the condo. Another quarter of the way and Clary had worried herself to sleep.

Along with Maryse's credit card, she'd thrown all the medical supplies into a duffle bag for him, along with pairs of his clothes, sweats and sweatshirts for Clary, his cell, wallet and car keys. His father had called him after Clary had fallen asleep, telling him that he was being charged with kidnapping, now that it had been 48 hours. Jace had asked why he was being charged and Robert responded that Clary's brother had found a note he wrote to Clary hidden under her mattress.

Wonderful, Jace was now a wanted criminal trying to hide an abused woman from her crazed and psychotic family. He'll make sure to put that on his postcard from the Bahamas. Or maybe his résumé. But, the one good thing was, Robert being the police chief was easing tension off of Jace. He was slowly obtaining a search warrant for the Morgenstern manor to look for clues to Clary's 'kidnapping.' In the house Robert would retrieve the cameras Jace had planted and would then have video evidence against Valentine and Jonathan. It shouldn't take more than a few days, then Jace would be allowed to come back without being attacked by Clary's rabid brother or father.

Jace turned at the sound of Clary's quiet moan of distress. Striding back over to her side of the bed, he knelt.

"Jace," she groaned before bolting upright, looking on the verge of a scream. She grimaced and hugged her stomach, clearly in pain from the sudden movement. Her green eyes caught him in a net and held him there.

"Jace," she whispered again, panting against the pain. Pulling himself away from those entrapping eyes he dug in the duffel he'd brought and pulled out the pain pills, handing a few to Clary and getting her a glass of water. After she'd swallowed them, she subsided but still trembled from the obvious nightmare. Jace wanted to kill the two men who had done this to her, caused her so much pain that she couldn't even escape in her dreams.

"I'm here Clary, I'm here," he whispered, sweeping her hair back from her face and smiling even though she couldn't see him in the dark.

With a quiet whimper, she leaned over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, tugging him forward until he relented and slipped onto the bed, cradling her in his lap. He buried his hand in her hair, the other wrapped gently around her waist.

"It's alright, I'm here. You're safe, I won't let anything happen to you," he consoled in the dark of the room, hoping Clary found the dark comforting instead of suffocating. He wondered if he should turn on the light but when he leaned over to turn it on Clary shook her head.

"No, leave it off. If you turn the lights on they'll be able to find me," she whispered, burying her face in his chest so he was barely able to hear her next words. "You'll be able to see me."

It felt like Jace's heart had been sucker punched. She still thought herself unattractive to him, still scared that he would reject her. Knowing words at this point would be useless, so he decided to show her how much she meant to him. He pressed his mouth to her cool neck, stilling at her shocked gasp of breath. He waited for her rejection, for the small hands to push him away or the faint words denying him but he heard or felt none of the sort. So he began to move his mouth, gently licking at her skin, pressing loving kisses to her neck, travelling up her throat until he reached the spot behind her ear, where neither Jonathan nor Valentine had ever touched.

"Is this alright?" He asked, his hands winding themselves in her borrowed shirt.

He felt Clary's slight nod before he continued his kisses to her jawline, keeping them so feather light that there was no chance of her bruises being disturbed. He saw the faint movement of her eyelids fluttering shut, her breath leaving her lungs in a content sigh. Jace reached her mouth, lowering his lips ever so slowly over hers. He felt the moment she withdrew from him, in her mind and body.

She turned her face away but she kept her arms wrapped around his neck.

"I—I'm sorry Jace. It's just… I can't explain but…"

He could tell she was struggling and his heart ached.

"It's alright Clary, we don't have to do anything you don't want," Jace whispered, his nose feathering over her cheek.

She turned back to him then, green eyes brimming with tears. "But that's just it Jace. I want you, I want you so badly my body aches. But it feels like I'm falling into a trap again. Jonathan made me feel pleasure, he made my body like it and in some ways I liked to float away on it, pretend I was somewhere else where no one could touch me or my pleasure but he always took it away, Jace. And with you I'm so terrified that you'll use it against me, then I get this warm feeling in my chest and butterflies in my stomach that I've never gotten before and I just don't know what to do. What they did to me haunts my every moment, waking and sleeping and I so badly want to wipe them away with something, I want something, someone, I can count on and trust in completely. And when you kiss me Jace… I feel all funny, the good funny, not when Jonathan would strap and strip me down or Valentine would beat me, the funny that I can enjoy myself in and relax in. Jace I want this to happen but I don't know how to trust, even though I want to. I want to trust you desperately, I mean you saved me. I should trust you. Shouldn't I?"

"I can't answer that for you sweetheart," Jace replied calmly, not betraying the leaping emotions of joy. She wanted him, with a passion, there were just a few road bumps. Bumps that he was completely willing to go over, with Clary. "You have to decide that for yourself, based on my actions or my words. Ignore what your mind is saying, you've been hurt there and your mind needs time to heal, listen to your heart. Battered and bruised though it may be, your heart will know what's best in this situation. I won't try to sway you in any direction. It's your decision, entirely."

His own body was burning feverishly now as he held her, feeling her soft curves pressed against him. But he waited patiently, even though his body agonized over it. Though he wasn't disappointed. Not a minute later, Clary turned in his lap and fused her lips to his in an almost frantic passion, as though if she stopped to think about it, she would chicken out. He parted her lips with his tongue, his movements still gentle and careful. She moaned softly as she shoved him back on the bed. He landed in the pillows, his hands bracing her bottom as she sat against the growing tent in his pants.

She stopped kissing him for a moment, leaning back to draw her shirt over her head, tossing it away to reveal bare naked breasts, bruises and soft skin gleaming in the dark as she leaned down to kiss him again. Her mouth enveloped his senses, drowning him as he caught the scent of her lotion, apple blossoms. Her hands slid beneath his shirt, desperate to tear it off. He stilled her hands, knowing the movement must be causing her pain, taking his shirt off on his own before catching her up and lowering her to the bed beneath him.

"Do you trust me enough for this?"

Clary seemed to hesitate for a moment, her eyes roaming over his body and arms, the bed and his naked chest. All the while biting her cute little lip. It was a while before she nodded her head hesitantly, a moment later more firm, a determined look in her eyes. He grinned at her, feeling elated and happy as he bent down to kiss her. Her lips were warm and welcoming before he slid his lips from hers to trail lovingly down her throat. She arched her back into him, pressing her breasts against his chest. His hands skimmed lightly over her skin, mindful of her bruises and cuts.

He moved his mouth to the center of her chest before kissing over the swell of her breasts, teeth scraping gently as he took her nipple into his mouth. He loved the small little sound she made as he flattened his tongue and licked. She shuddered. He smiled against her skin, overjoyed that she trusted him enough to give her body to him.

Her hands came up to cup his head, her legs wrapping around his waist. He released her breast as he traveled further down her body, blowing hot breath over the bandaged wounds, kissing the scars and healed over ones. Her fingers knotted in his hair even as he gently removed her legs from his waist, lips pressed against the middle of her stomach, a safe distance away from her burn. His hands slid under the loose waistband of her sweatpants before slowly, ever so slowly, sliding them down her legs.

He lifted her hips himself, working the pants off and discarding them on the floor. He kneeled over her, unbuttoning his own jeans but when he looked down, his breath caught at the beautiful sight that lay beneath him. She was smiling, her white teeth showing as she stared up at him with happy, trusting eyes. He didn't know what he did to deserve that kind of look. It was heart melting, even as his gaze traveled down her naked body. He didn't care she was bruised and battered and scarred, inside and out, but it was his job to nurture the creative and loving soul that he knew belonged to Clary's smile. The smile that laid across her lips.

As soon as he slipped his pants off, he enveloped her lips with his own, arms wrapping around her waist to hoist her onto his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist, hands cupping the back of his neck and kissing him back with a ferocity he'd seen only a few times before. It's like something was sparked in her and he loved it.

He hadn't been wearing any underwear so he hadn't needed to take them off, so Clary sat bare and exposed on top of his naked body. He could feel the heat rolling off her and he savored it, tongue slipping inside her mouth to dance with hers. A switch seemed to have been flipped he realized, and she was wild and reckless, meeting his every touch with one of her own. He was so hard it hurt just to move.

His hands slid down to cup her bottom, to hoist her up and slide her tight body onto his. He groaned just as Clary shouted in pleasure, clutching him like she was falling from a cliff. She pulled away, leaning her head back and Jace took the opportunity to kiss her throat, nibbling on the hollow of her collarbone. He let Clary set the pace, knowing she still had to have an element of control in things like this. She circled her hips over his, making him groan with pleasure. The bittersweet irony of this was that she had experience, she knew how to use it too.

Her skin became slick with sweat as she kept up a fast pace, surprising him with her stamina but he wasn't surprised based on what her brother and father put her through. She would have had to have stamina. Jace slid his hand between their bodies, finding the sensitive spot that was so rewarding. His hand burned being so close to the heat of their joining and he loved it. He wanted to wrap himself in the heat, use it to soothe Clary's nightmares as well and give her a new meaning to pleasure instead of it being used as a tool of torment and pain.

She let out a small cry suddenly, startling Jace, making him halt her movements with gentle hands on her hips.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, his voice hoarse. He didn't want to stop, he wanted to go on like this forever until both of them were blind to the world and all their troubles. But she was more important than his physical pleasure. "Do we need to stop?"

He saw her worry her lip for only a moment before readjusting herself and shaking her head, breasts swaying with her heavy breath. "No, no, just shocked is all. I never thought I'd be able to do this with anyone and enjoy it. I didn't think I'd ever let anyone touch me if I could help it."

She seemed to hold back tears, face breaking and breaking Jace's heart right along with it. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. He held her like that for a moment, his body still hard and unsated inside her but he stayed still, being whatever his Clary needed him to be. She came first. But to his utter surprise she tightened her legs around his waist and squeezed her feminine muscles around him. He groaned at the sensation before she began lifting and lowering herself on him again.

He fell back on the bed, holding her to him as she stroked his body. He released her as she sat up, bracing her hands on his chest before she set a hard pace, head flung back, eyes closed as though lost in sensation. Her nails scraped his chest even as fiery pleasure shot through his veins, making his body vibrate. He slid his hands over her thighs, knowing he couldn't hold onto her hips with the ferocity he wanted to but Clary didn't seem to notice as her first orgasm washed over her. She cried out his name, echoing in the dark like a beloved talisman she would always cherish.

She gave herself two more orgasms with his body as he was slow to his, not able to take her the way he wanted but he loved how she dragged out the pleasure, seeming to pour some of her own into him with each moan and smile down at him, each loving kiss she stole from his lips. Now she was lying beneath him, at her insistence. He'd asked her if the position was okay, she'd nodded and told him to do what he was holding back from all night because she knew he was holding back. He'd argued of course but she threatened that if he didn't take the driver's seat then he wouldn't get an orgasm at all and would be resigned to a cold shower. He'd laughed and set a steady rhythm which he now had increased.

His body became frenzied as Clary climaxed once more, hot liquid desire enveloping his swollen erection before his climax came hard on the heels of hers. He shouted Clary's name, clutching her tightly to him as his body released itself, heat pouring over the both of them and Jace made a huge effort to pull out of her and collapse beside her instead of on top of her. He shuddered with horror and embarrassment at the sound that would have been torn from her lips if his full weight had dropped onto her bruised body.

He listened for a moment to his heaving breath before he realized Clary was laughing breathlessly, rolling over and cupping his cheek before she kissed him blind. She went on like that, lying beside him and drowning him in kisses before she finally pulled back, still laughing but drowsily now, exhausted no doubt from the sex and her injuries. She pressed her forehead against his chest, kissing the burning skin slowly, her movements becoming more and more lethargic.

"I love you Jace," he heard her whisper, cheek rubbing slowly against his chest like a cat. It took him a moment to register what she'd said but when he did, he looked down, wanting to reply that he loved her too but she was already asleep. Curled into his chest, lips slightly parted and leg propped on his. He smiled; grinned like an idiot more like. She loved him, she loved him, she loved him. it was the only coherent thought he could process. This beautiful warrior of a woman loved him. He bent to kiss her forehead before slipping off the bed.

He saw the red blossoming beneath her bandages and went to retrieve the medical kit from the duffel he'd brought, still grinning hugely. He pulled his boxers back on before moving over to Clary's sleeping form, kneeling beside the bed to replace the bandage over her burn with a sticky gauze pad and some ointment. She moaned in her sleep, a moan of pain before settling again, a scowl on her face.

"Jace," she breathed. "Come back to bed, I'm cold."

He smiled, putting the medical supplies aside to pick her up from the bed, gently. He pulled the covers back and slid beneath them with her cradled in his arms. She was still coherent enough to adjust herself, pulling one of his thighs between her legs and wrapping her arm around his waist. He laid back, arm secured around her shoulders as his nose dipped to the top of her red mane of hair. He kissed her there once, receiving a breathy sigh of contentment and some shifting.

"I love you too," he whispered and he swore he saw Clary smile at him in the dark.

Clary woke up to an achy body, the sort of ache that came with Jonathan's sex and it terrified her into stillness for a moment, unable to breathe. But this ache was deeper, richer somehow as it coated her body. She frowned, wondering what Jonathan had done different before she remembered that it wasn't Jonathan who'd gotten to her last night, it was Jace. Now a grin broke across her face, openly pressing her cheek against the warm, hard chest beneath her hand. She burrowed in the warmth before her, gratefully wrapping herself around him, never before able to actually enjoy waking up next to a man in bed.

Before she'd dreaded it because it meant that the night before had been real, the nightmare that she'd wished was just that had been reality. It confirmed over and over, that she had been defiled against her will. Every time she woke up after one of Jonathan or Valentine's treatments she would hope, day after day, that it was actually a nightmare only. The hot, suffocating body beside her when she woke up meant it was real, all of it.

But now, snuggled up against Jace, remembering all the things he's done and said these past few days, what he gave her last night, restored some of her trust, she wanted to fall back asleep wrapped in his strong embrace. She didn't mind his thigh fit snuggly between her legs or the arm draped over her hip, the arm wrapped around her shoulders. She loved the warmth breath blowing over her scalp, Jace's nose buried in her hair.

She noticed that Jace had put his boxers back on and was happy for the coverage, even if she was still buck naked. She hugged Jace's thigh tighter between her own, pressing herself against his bare chest. She loved the way he smelled, like pine and fresh air. She heard him murmur something against her hair, unable to catch the words. But she was certainly able to notice the light hand skimming over her bare skin, barely brushing the bruised surface.

His hand tipped over her hip, rounding down to her flat belly before he buried his fingers in the thatch of curls between her legs. He shifted his thigh down, making room so he could cup her mound. Her body responded with a flash of heat, intensifying as Jace's hand separated the folds of her body and touched her core. She gasped, tilting her head back as his fingers moved over her, stimulating all the heat into an inferno.

She was utterly jealous, jealous he was able to make her body crave him, to make her trust him and love him even in his sleep, where no one she'd ever met could even gain her trust completely sober and fully conscious. Tilting her head back, she moved her hips over his hand, wanting him to go faster, press harder. Her body was agonizing over the too slow pace. It was like he was deliberately tormenting her but unlike her other torments, she enjoyed this one, wholly and freely.

Her hand clutched his bicep, feeling the muscles work beneath her fingers as his did the most wonderfully wicked things to her. She moaned, low in her throat, Jace's mouth now against her forehead. His warm lips moved in silent words, hot breath breezing over hotter skin. She was slick with sweat now, after so little time.

She had to muffle a cry of pleasure as his fingers slipped lower and he slid two of them inside her, slowly, ever so slowly, pumping them in and out until she was almost mad with desire, burning for Jace when he wasn't even awake enough to know. She moaned again, pleasure sweeping up her body, turning it to flames.

"Jace," she whispered desperately. "Jace, you need to wake up, you're killing me."

It took a moment for his hand to stop working down below, another for him to open his eyes and yet another for him to assess the situation. His molten gold eyes locked with hers for a moment, travelling down to her slightly parted lips then lower to where his hand disappeared between them. He grinned. Instead of removing himself like she expected him to, he slid another finger inside her, making her throw her head back in a shout of ecstasy. He rolled over top of her, body braced so not to crush her fragile one.

His lips caressed her throat as his fingers prompted her further and further to the edge where paradise lay. His soft, hot lips traveled up her throat, her exposed pulse before traveling over her jawline and finally capturing her lips. She let out a low moan, one hand now wrapped around the wrist of the hand pleasuring her and the other coming to wrap around the nape of his neck, hold his lips to her as he brought her to orgasm.

She tipped her head back and screamed in ecstasy, in pure joy, at the feeling of freedom and love washing over her. She'd never felt so light and liberated before, so free to enjoy herself and not feel guilty. Jace didn't stop at her first orgasm. He drove her mad with another one and Clary frantically threaded her fingers through his golden locks, crushing his lips to hers, loving how he stole each and every sound from her, took each one she gave to him and gave back tenfold. Her nails dug into his wrist as her body went into spasms.

"Jace!" His name was ripped from her lips as pleasure ripped through her body. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think as Jace's fingers heightened her orgasm.

"You have to stop Jace. I can't take another one, I'm already so sore," she whispered, tossing her head back and forth against the pillows. She was disappointed, despite her words, when his fingers withdrew from her. He dropped to the bed beside her, dropping kisses over the side of her breast to make her shiver.

"Good morning to you too," Clary whispered and smiled when she heard Jace's soft snort.

"Good morning," he whispered back and his gravelly voice alone shook her with an aftershock. "I need to change your bandages," he declared. "Get your cute little butt into the bathroom."

Clary gave him a glare before he smiled and kissed her nose.

"Please," he amended and with Jace's help, she managed to get to the bathroom without too much trouble. He let her take a quick shower after removing all the old bandages before placing her in front of the floor length mirror they had in the bathroom while Jace went to get the medical bag. Clary looked at herself in the mirror, naked and damp and frowned, eyes skimming her own body before her eyes closed in shame, silent tears welling up and the corners of her mouth turned down in disgust. She turned away.

Only to find Jace walking back in with the medical bag. He gave her a smile that melted her heart as he set the bag on the counter beside her. He came toe to toe with her, still smiling down at her so she had to crane her neck.

"You're not where I left you," he said, brushing wild red hair, even after a shower, from her face.

"I don't like mirrors Jace," Clary replied, wrapping her arms over her chest, suddenly very self-conscious. Jace only gave her this sweet smile before he turned her around. Facing the mirror, she saw Jace smiling at her reflection and that was all she focused on. That was all.

"Look in that mirror," Jace said, settling his chin on her shoulder. Clary's eyes flicked to his in the mirror. "What do you see?"

"You," Clary said wistfully, draping her arms over his around her waist.

Jace chuckled softly. "What do you see when you look at you?"

Clary frowned as her gaze slid over her tattered body. "Someone who's broken and unfixable. And who needs to buy fade cream for her freckles."

Jace's smile faded, rubbing his chin over her shoulder, the unbruised one. "That's not what I see," he whispered, a pout on his face that made him look ten years younger. She almost smiled at the image of a pouty seven year old Jace.

"I see a beautiful, perfect body beneath badges of survival," he said, his hands running lightly from her shoulders down her arms, then from the sides of her breasts over her hips.

"I see wonderfully green emeralds set in a fine, regal face that smiles too little, but I'll make sure to fix that," he said with a smile, running gentle fingers over her cheekbones. His hands slid down her chest.

"I see perfect breasts that I love to have pressed against my chest and wild red hair that I love to have cascade over my skin. Perfect little freckles that my eyes trace effortlessly in a beautiful pattern every time I see your face."

He pressed his mouth into her throat, massaging tender skin as his hands moved further down, fingertips ghosting over her nipples, drawing them to attention before his hands enveloped her small breasts. She gasped, letting a moan slip out when she leaned her head back against Jace's chest.

"I see treasure on every spot of your body, a body I will cherish and love and worship for as long as you'll have me," Jace breathed, one hand settling on her ribs directly below her breasts while the other one slid down to the trove of red curls between her thighs. He cupped her softly, tenderly, knowing she was extra sore, still healing from before and worn from last night.

"And the brave, colorful, creative mind lying in that pretty little head of yours," he said, lips moving over skin until she closed her eyes. When he put it that way, she didn't sound like a patchwork body of scars and cuts and bruises. And now the brand, forever marking her as a Morgenstern and burning the reminder of all the horrid things she's had done to her.

His hand tightened over her mound as her hand slid into his hair, cupping the back of his neck.

"Jace!" His name was a hoarse cry for mercy, for shelter from the torrents of her life.

"Shh, I've got you," he murmured against her throat. "I've got you," he soothed, fingers sliding between the folds of her body. "And I'm never letting you go."

A knock on the door drew Jace away from his hot mouthed kisses on her neck. He lifted his head lazily as another knock came, his hand warm against her core. Yet another knock had Clary shaking and Jace drawing a robe over her body. Had they found her? Jace whispered for her to go get dressed as another knock sounded on the door.

As she pulled on sweatpants and a t-shirt, Jace opened the door. Time just sort of dissolved from there, lost meaning as blood and hope drained from her body. She didn't really know why she wasn't having a panic attack then and there but she didn't. She only stood, still as a waving bamboo branch, swaying back and forth in the breeze as though about to break from the ever increasing gust. She supposed, at the time, that she went into a sort of shock then, at the sound of her brother's voice, the radios buzzing with static as police officers stormed the room, the click of metal handcuffs.

Jonathan swam into view, a blurry apparition that she wished was just that. Maybe he was, her mind was reeling so dramatically she didn't even call out as Jace was hauled away by two policemen or struggle when her brother wrapped an arm around her waist, gently drawing her out the door and down the halls where policemen were crawling. She thinks she caught a flash of Mr. Herondale or Lightwood, she didn't know which name he went by. Wasn't he chief of police? He was letting his son be arrested? Let her be taken away after he saw the physical evidence of what the very man beside her had done?

She wanted to hate him, or yell at him, but all she felt was a cold dread, seeping through her veins like sinister ice, freezing and stealing any warmth or trust she had gained from Jace. She'd trusted Jace too, let herself fall for him after she told herself over and over and over not to; she would only get hurt. It seemed only fitting that the morning after she let him have her trust, let him inside her body that she would be betrayed and dragged back to her hellish prison. She was finally able to move after a moment, after being led down stairs and crammed into an elevator with police and cuffed Jace, with her brother and Mr. Lightwood.

And she only bowed her head, resigning herself to silence, disappointment and begrudging acceptance. This was her own fault, it was the world ensuring her punishment for letting her mother die, for letting herself trust someone after years of discipline that she'd received. Or maybe it was just time for her to leave. If no one else could save her, then she would just finish herself off.

Her mother had always said, "Never send a man to do a woman's work."

She knew now that was true.