Title: The Mortal Instruments: City of Forsaken Hearts

Chapter 6: Gone

Authors Note: You guys with your reviews and your follows make me such a happy writer 3 Seriously I stalk my e-mail all day I love it, it really does inspire me to keep getting these updates done so quickly.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments or any of its characters. All respectful material belongs to Cassandra Clare – including the universe created for this story.

"Maybe we should just go Izzy," Simon cleared his throat, hesitantly suggesting it wasn't in their best interest to continue to annoy Magnus by slamming her fists up against his door when he clearly wasn't taking any consultations at the moment. It had been a reach anyways, he couldn't remember the last time Magnus had actually agreed to help them since Izzy had told him about the fall out with Alec.

Isabelle ran her hands through her hair in a frustrated motion, sinking down to sit with her back against the door. She made a noise of impatience as she slammed her head back against the door. "He's my brother Simon, I can't just go." She gritted her teeth through declaration, tapping her fingers up against her knees.

Simon nodded silently, and then lowered himself to sit down next to her. He flipped his hand open, and welcomed her fingers to lightly brush up against his palm as she accepted the cold contact. He wasn't sure how comforting it was, his hand couldn't be very warm. He hadn't generated human warmth in over half a year.

He would have figured time would have passed quicker when he died. Then again he never thought he'd become a vampire either.

"I really thought Magnus would help," she somberly admitted. It wasn't that she didn't believe in Alec, or didn't believe he was capable of protecting himself. She knew he could handle himself out there, he was an adult in the eyes of the clave. If it was just normal demon activity she would have been more worried for the demons than Alec. She had been up at night, listening to her mother talk about the recent disapperances they had been having when she should have been in bed. Shadow Hunters were just vanishing, without leaving a single trace behind. What if Alec didn't come back? She shivered, tormented by the thought of losing another brother – of being the only Lightwood left.

"Maybe he's just not home," Simon tried to be helpful. He ran a hand down her arm thoughtfully as he nudged her shoulder, trying to draw a smile from her face. It was rare he found Izzy in these moods, she was usually so completely strong and independent. It always surprised him when he realized that she needed somebody like him. Maybe that was why he craved her attention so much – for once she needed him, in a way he knew Clary never would.

Isabelle sighed, flipping her black hair over her shoulder, "Its urgent Simon. I just…I can't keep coming back hoping he'll open the door. I need him now," she flopped her head over onto her knees as she sighed in frustration, slamming her foot against the ground.

Simon watched her rare show of distress and yanked his hand out of hers. He ignored her pithy expression at him as he jumped up onto his feet. "Well, lets get his attention then," he offered, and slammed his fist up against the door. He found with his vampire powers, he could make quite a distruption if he set his mind to it.

"HEY. HEY MAGNUS. OPEN THE DOOR. MAGNUS. I HAVE ETERNITY HERE. I'VE GOT NO WHERE ELSE TO GO FOR QUITE SOME TIME," he slammed his fist up against the door again as he reached down to help Izzy to her feet – not that she needed it. She always landed back on her feet without his help.

Isabelle smirked as he slammed his fist back up against the door, calling for the warlock, vowing to spend the rest of eternity knocking on his door if he didn't answer it. He got through another five minutes of howling at the wood front before the cracks of the door practically splintered off the frame.

Magnus nearly broke the door as he yanked it swiftly open. His glistening cat eyes glared out with contempt as his lips remained in a firm, grumpy expression. "What do you want Sheldon?" he demanded in a snarling tone. He starred at the two of them, with their jaws gaping and eyes wide. He shrugged his shoulders, arms across his chest as he snapped back at them, "What are you gawking at?" Normally he would consider himself fabulous enough to gawk at, but he wasn't quite in the mood at the moment. He hadn't been in the mood for awhile, to be honest.

Their usually ostentacious, and fashionable warlock had what Simon would have considered appropriate wear for a homeless wanderer to sympathetic glances to the tin can he held in his hand. There wasn't a smidge of product in the warlocks hair. It fell flat over his eyes, and was desperate for a trim. There were holes in the black t-shirt he wore, it came right at the trim of the grey sweats he wore.

Actually, it looked exactly like what Clary walked around in when she was in an artistic slump with her paintings, but Simon wasn't going to bring that up.

"Alec," he saw the man flinch at the name of his former lover, and wondered if maybe their tempermental and rude shadow hunter wasn't the only one suffering here, "he's missing, we thought maybe you could help." Simon shuffled his feet against the ground, suddenly uncomfortable. He had never been comfortable with Magnus before. Somehow the eight hundred year old warlock had always reminded him…how ageless he was suddenly, how he kept playing human, pretending he was still…normal?

Simon grinded his teeth at the thought – no good now, not one bit.

Magnus glowered as he stood in front of the door, "Oh, I think Alexander is quite capable of getting himelf in and out of his own trouble," he retorted, eyes flashing in a temper they hadn't witnessed in him before.

"That's it? He can get himself in and out of his own trouble?" Isabelle snarled. Her cheeks went red and Simon wondered if he would have to hold her back from lunging at his throat. Her fingernails raked against her side as she paced closer to him, jabbing a finger into his chest, "He could be in pain! He could be hurt somewhere! He could be in danger or god, he could be dead! I thought you cared about my brother!" she yelled, slamming the words into his face.

Temper spiked in those gleaming cat eyes of his, "Don't begin to speak of what I feel for your brother," he suggested in a terse tone, "Consultation hours are every other Wednesday. Get out." he slammed the door before either one of them could argue further.

He felt a tremble of fear work its way through his throat, suffocating him as he turned away from the door and faced his rather lackluster apartment at the moment. He just hadn't been feeling…quite as glamorous as he usually did. Magnus swept a few fingers through his hair, grimacing as they fell back into his eyes.

Alec was missing.

Three words that should have meant nothing, not since he had walked away after discovering how far his shadow hunter had been willing to go in order to make him mortal – to take that choice away from him.

It was just one mistake.

He could hear the words ringing through his ears, that look Alec had when he was looking at him, a special reserved look that Magnus had come to appreciate and love – just as he had loved everything about Alec. He loved his fierceness, of how far he would go to protect those he loved. He loved how genuine he was, how brave and strong.

Just one mistake, Magnus.

And who was to say that Alec had been the only one responsible for the mistake?

Alec walked through the blustering cold, not paying particular attention to the streets and the light orbs that glowed in the hazy, effulent clouds of white that winter brought on. Snow was supposed to be a romantic notion, bring fond thoughts of sitting by a fireplace, of making hot chocolate and taking walks where the wind nipped at your nose and the only thing to warm you was the contact of your lovers fingers against your cold, arctic skin.

He thought of blood and darkness instead. The tattoo against the cop's neck continued to disturb him, he wanted to pass it through to Clary as soon as possible. It had been something more, he had practically felt the rune's power from where he had been sitting.

But it was all wrong. The nature of it was wrong. And on a mundane? He wished he knew what it meant. Then maybe he could drive his thoughts towards something less nagging. For now he was stuck on the mystery of Dyane Cole and he didn't want to be.

She was stubborn, like Magnus.

He froze with his thoughts. The name hadn't meant to come out. He hadn't meant to think about him, in any context and especially not to so casually hear his name echo in his thoughts. Damn it Alec, get a grip.

Alec snarled fiercly, and picked up a quicker pace as the night slowly pulled its dark shade over the sky. He couldn't see the stars through the cloudy atmosphere, snow continued to come down in small, tiny flakes. His cheeks were blustering red as he skipped a corner.

He was only a block away from home – a block from reassuring his mother and sister. A block from walking into a place that had been home for most of his life. Only a block, and he would have been welcomed into comforting and terrified arms, demanding to know how he could vanish on them for two days without so much as calling. Jace would call them all idiots probably, and side with Alec. It would be nice to have someone arguing with him, rather than against him.

Distance was such a relative term though, he could have been a mile away for comfort it would give his mother and sister while he wasn't there. A light caught his attention, hovering in the sector of space between two rundown, older buildings. One was still a grocery store in use, the other he thought was possibly an apartment that an old lady rarely bothered to come out of. He had noticed she had strange crystals dangling from her ears and wore tiny specks with her grey hair brushed down to her waist once.

Curiosity tugged at him – and he stepped into the shadowed, dark alleyway. He was a shadow hunter, he felt no fear in the darkness as he surged forward to investigate the light. Something cold crept into his soul, but he pushed foolishly forward – when he should have turned back.

She pulled on the golden hilt of the broken sword, trapped within the confines of cement. The battle of winds had her honey soaked hair wipping across her slanted, slender face, viridian eyes the color of moss sparkled in the surge of war. She felt no fear, her armor glistened and the mark – the mark for all that she stood for blazed like heaven's wrath against the nape of her neck.

Clary starred at the portrait, unaware of what she had just painted. How could she be completely unaware of an entire painting? She placed her painbrush down and starred at the picture, the woman bent down on one knee, her neck was exposed to the heavens, the clouds casting judgement against her.

She had drawn the same rune from her dream, and here it was in her painting while she was conscious. Clary scooped her hair out of her eyes and stood up, her back cracked and her knees ached to be in a different position than the studiously, bent position she had stooped for during the six hours she had created the painting.

And she barely remembered any of the creative process.

Maybe it was just a manifestation of her powers, completely normal.

The absolute silence of her creative atmosphere was shattered by the sound of her mom and Luke arguing down the hallway. She couldn't actually remember her mom ever arguing with Luke, they were almost always in agreement about everything. Their relationship was extremely harmonious and pleasant, it had worried her at first that there was something wrong with the amount of aguing she did with Jace compared to Luke and Mom.

Then again, Jace and Luke could hardly be compared as similar people.

She slid the door open and crouched low, creeping closer to the living room to listen to them argue in the kitchen. Her mom was still in her bathrobe, her hair wrapped into a towel as she sunk down in one of the kitchen chairs. Luke leaned up against the counter, his arms across his chest as he glared out the window with a heavy look of consternation.

"It's the seventh member of the pack that's missing, I'm their leader. I have to do something!"

"But what? What can you possibly do Luke? We don't even know who could be behind it," her voice stuck in a deadily whisper.

Clary sucked in her breath, and listened closer. She hoped quietly that it wasn't Maia that had gone missing. She was sure Simon would have mentioned it to her if she was.

"We need to warn Clary," Luke muttered gruffly.

"No!" her mother's voice raised higher. She quickly lowered it, "We both know Clary will try to involve herself, especially if…he's involved."

She didn't have to guess who he was. She knew it, the ugly little voice whispering his name in the back of her head. Sebastian.

Of course he would be behind this, and if he was around that could mean Jace was in trouble. Her whole body shook as she retreated back to her room, Luke and her mom's voice faded as she snuck back to her room and closed the door. As soon as she was clear she quickly yanked on a pair of pants and boots. She grabbed her jacket and zipped it on. She had to warn Jace, her heart slammed into her chest as she stuck her phone into her pocket and then cautiously opened the door and shut it again.

She walked out passed Luke and her mom, who's voices had died as soon as she walked into the kitchen, "Hey Simon forgot his phone. I'm going to run it over to him. I know it will be late, so he'll just walk me back," she grinned, "I don't think anyone will mess with him." the perks of being friends with a vampire, she supposed.

If she mentioned going to see Jace at ten at night there was no way her mom was going to let her out. If it was Simon though…

"Its pretty late honey, I think Simon can survive until tomorrow," her mom muttered dryly.

Clary glanced at the ground, a tell-tale sign she was about to lie her ass off, "I know. Its just that…his sister was going to call him and if Simon misses her, I think it would kill him. Its really meant a lot to him to have some of his family back in his life, he's not as lucky…" she shot a look at both of them, wetting her lips, "He doesn't have people who understand, like I do."

It worked, her mother's eyes went a little moist as she nodded and Clary quickly flung herself out the door before either one of them could protest. At least it wasn't exactly a lie, she truly was grateful to have her mother and Luke who understood what she was, and she didn't have to hide the truth like Simon did.

Clary stepped out into the swirl of wintery winds, and quickly headed towards the institution.