On his way out of the alleyway and into the roads Jonathan found himself many times shutting his eyes. The pain quickly became blinding and trying to keep up with Jace, who was still balancing him awkwardly and walking alongside him in long strides, was proving to be more difficult than he had previously thought. His legs functionality lessened up to the point of where they stopped altogether. He heard Jace murmuring something under his breath, probably curses aimed at him. Jonathan found that he did not care as he let his head loll to the side and his body slack under Jace's. He was nearing the state of drowsiness where he was only barely conscious. And then, he simply saw black.

The next time he opened his eyes, he was in a closed room. He felt the visible sting in his abdomen, now properly disinfected and bandaged. His head hurt badly, and he had only a vague recollection of what happened last night. Hungover and badly hurt, Jonathan was too tired to move. That's when he realized he had no idea where he was. He felt the presence of others in the room, the clear voices of argument. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he closed his eyes back again and feigned unconsciousness. Being truly tired, it wasn't that difficult, and the comforter below him lulled him to quiet rest, if not quite sleep.

"You should have kept better watch on him." Alec's voice filled the room in its familiarity. It wasn't the first time they had gotten into a fight over him. Jonathan could only imagine what Alec's reaction was when Jace brought him over bloody and beaten, after having snuck out. Alec likely suggested to leave him out on the streets to die.

The healing charms that bound his body were proof that Jace did not yield to that very tempting suggestion.

"Oh so now it's my fault? I recall I wasn't the only one in that party." Jace's voice was upset, but it didn't hold any of its usual vigor. He almost sounded resigned. It left Jonathan wondering what time it was. It couldn't possibly be morning, could it? It was likely that Jace didn't catch an ounce of sleep.

"You're the one who went to his rescue!" Alec continued. "It was his own damn fault he got mixed up with those werewolves, you didn't have to go out and intervene."

"I was thinking of Clary, okay? She would have never forgiven me." The sound of pacing was heard, followed by an intense moment of silence. "How much longer can you keep holding this over my head? You would have done the same for Magnus, if he loved Jonathan just as much as Clary does." The last part he said somewhat bitterly. Loving Clary was such a burden when her brother came in as a package deal.

"Don't you bring Mag into this. At least he has better taste in men than your sister does in brothers. You don't even realize how stupid you were acting. You just wait until dad hears about it-"

"You're going to tell him?" Jace interrupted, sounding panicked, even slightly hurt. "Please don't."

"I knew you were going to ask this," he said, incredulous.

"He's going to kill me if he finds out, you know that. Alec please, you know I never beg."

"Not that your conversations aren't fascinating, but are you willing to quiet down for a few minutes? Your constant bickering is giving me a headache. You too Alexander."

Jonathan felt Magnus facing his direction, inspecting his injuries. When he was close enough that he could hear the murmuring of his spells, Jonathan tensed. Magnus stopped in his tracks, radiating suspicion. The warlock sensed he was awake, but Jonathan couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. There was that very real issue of him sneaking away, and he was sure that once he opened his eyes, he would be cuffed and strapped to the bed to avoid any further problems. And liberty came so rarely to him.

Before Magnus could act on his suspicion, and start interrogating Jonathan for eavesdropping, they all heard a knock on the door. They exchanged glances with one another, Alec and Jace took one step away from the door, unsure of what to do. Magnus rolled his eyes, and took a look through the peephole, only to open the door straight away to welcome a very sober looking Robert. Jace immediately made eye contact with Alec, having him promise with his eyes that he won't breathe a word, and instead let him talk. Resigned, Alec gave a curt nod in his direction, and took a seat on the couch, acting the casual visitor.

Robert's eyes naturally zoomed in to focus on Jonathan's sprawled out figure on the couch, one eyebrow quirked in question. Then his eyes furrowed in a show of very perplexed emotions, closing the door behind him. He paced the flat, taking in the curious image in front of him, the obvious question laid out unspoken. Nobody began a conversation, nobody tried small talk.

Instead of asking out front, Robert decided to start out with a story.

"Tonight has been a very interesting night indeed. A shadowhunter had started his day like the rest of us, celebrating the new peace and safety of the post war. Safety the order promised to provide, peace I myself guaranteed to maintain; but I digress

This shadowhunter and his wife went to a party of celebration tonight, I'm sure you guys are familiar with it, I even heard Isabelle was having a fantastic time. However, a certain figure disappeared halfway through the party. Why should this concern the shadowhunter, you ask? It's a question that has been troubling us these past hours. This man and his wife left early. They have a young daughter waiting at home, and they excused themselves at around 22:00 o'clock. The young couple went through a shortcut, one they have taken often, in a merry and slightly drunken mood from the party. They did not reach home that very day.

The name of this man is Eliot Anderson, and his wife's name is Helena. On his way back home from the party he was murdered. Eliot was a skilled fighter, and he put up a fight. His wife, who managed to flee unharmed, claimed the attacker had come out of this fight bloody and bruised, and her husband dead. Through the tears, and in her panic, she said all she could remember was white hair. The attacker was hidden by shadows, and it was too dark to tell anything else."

Glancing at Jonathan's bandaged body, and old scars, he lowered his tone a notch, enough to let them know the seriousness of this crime. Enough to make Jonathan shiver through closed lids, and Jace heart to pace faster. "Now, before I can arrest the criminal on the sofa, does he have anything to say in his defense?"

At this point, no one actually paid any attention to Jonathan, being so focused on Robert. Jonathan, perspiration in his brow, opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He sat up on the couch, and had a hard time finding his voice. When he did, it was dry. He had not drunk anything in a while, and his throat was scratchy. He recognized the place around him as the same place where the party was thrown, Magnus' house.

"I deny these accusations," he said curtly, confidence he did not have in his tone.

Robert stood in his spot. He mistrusted the accused, but that was to be expected. He stared at all the rest, waiting to hear someone speak to their own defense. All of them were missing at some point of the party, and now standing with the accused, none of them were free of the blame. "Alec?" Robert asked with authority of a father and an inquisitor. "Do you want to tell me something?"

The thought ran through all standing in the room, except one. Jonathan was innocent. Alec had no emotion written on his face, and he eyed Jace who stood behind his father giving him pleading looks. Alec choose his words carefully. "Mag and I were at his house this entire time. Then we went up to his room to... uh, talk. We have not heard anything of a crime, maybe we were just a bit distracted." Trying to smooth the awkwardness of what was just implied, he continued tersely. "It was a very unfortunate event. Where did you say the murder took place?"

"Near Saint Paul's church, at least a few miles north of Magnus's house."

"At what time?"

"According to the wife, 22:25. Alec, is any of this necessary in order for you to tell me what I want to hear?"

"No sir, just curious."

When Alec made no move to give any further information about the presence of Jonathan , his father's frown deepened. "Very well, I see how it is." Robert turned to Jace, still the authority figure. "Jace, he was under your care. Pray tell me what is he doing here, bandaged and in a bad shape, after such an event took place. Were you not looking after him?"

"Jace," Jonathan redirected his attention to him. "You know it couldn't possibly have been me. You all know. Please tell him the truth."

Jace began to juggle his options in his mind. Robert was openly glaring at him, Alec was staring at the ground, and Magnus was leaning against the door frame of his house, listening intently to what was going on. At one point, before the revelation of a murder, Jace believed the story he would tell Robert would be different; he and Jonathan retired early and got into an argument. In that scenario Jace had gotten so angry at Jonathan that he beat him up, and scared of what anybody would think of his lack of self control, dragged his bruised body back to Magnus' house, to heal him. No one would have questioned such an event under normal circumstances, and he would not be in any sort of real trouble, but now...? He could either testify under the sword and tell the truth, vouch for Jonathan's innocence, or refuse to give witness. If he refused to be tested under the sword, he could say that Jonathan slipped out of his reach in the middle of the party. Sensing him gone, he went searching for him, and found him on a street near Saint Paul's church, bloody and washed up. Jace, thinking nothing of him committing such a crime, sent him to Magnus, to heal him up. This testimony would send Jonathan straight to jail, the former, would clear his name. Both of these options would cause him a great deal of trouble, having it revealed he had not watched Jonathan carefully enough. But would Jace want Robert to think his carelessness was a cause to a murder, or a brawl in a werewolf bar?

"Robert," he said in a shaky voice, having made his decision. "Jonathan is telling the truth. It couldn't possibly have been him who murdered that man."

A laugh escaped the inquisitor's mouth, and no longer able to stand still, he took a sit on one of the cushions on the sofa. He motioned Magnus with his hand to get him a drink of water, and rubbed his temples to rid himself of the upcoming headache. "I'm sorry, in all possibilities the last thing I expected was for you to say those words." After the initial shock wore off, his face grew serious once more. "I am listening Jace, and know that aiding Jonathan if he is indeed guilty will be a serious offense. Even if you are uncertain, the best option is to not say anything. He has much reason to feel hatred towards us, and could be in all likeliness trying to fool you."

"There's no uncertainty about it, Inquisitor. I could tell you that he is guilty, it would cause me much grief, since I was the one put in charge of him. Therefore I see why you are weary, you think I am being deceived. You think I am thinking out of selfish desires. But Jonathan did escape during the party, and I went after him. I knew where he would go, I knew he would search for a place to let loose. He wasn't going to escape. He had nowhere to go. Tracking him would be too easy, and he was too drunk to make an escape plan. So I went in search for bars.

When I found him, he was in the other end of town, far away from the location of the murder. He was in a werewolf bar, The Hunter's Moon. With the assistance of Luke, I got him out of there. You know what the werewolves think about him, Robert, and the fight was brutal, it left him wholly unable to take care of himself; so I brought him to Magnus. During the time of the murder, 22:30 you said it? he was with me. I had kept an eye on him all night, making sure he does not move even an inch. This, I am willing to attest under the scrutiny of the sword."

Robert held eye contact with Jace for only the barest of seconds, before taking the glass of water from Magnus' hand, drinking it politely, and moving to the door. "So be it," he said, dismissing the notion of the man's innocence in a flippant tone. "I will arrange for a trial immediately. Show up at your earliest convenience. Or better yet, stay until you're instructed otherwise. I will announce that your watch, and contact, with Jonathan will come to a complete halt."

Once Robert was gone, Jace began to register what had just happened. The thought of a sword trial sent a wave of anxiety through him, and the thought of doing it for Jonathan was even worse. Jace would have to admit, in front of the entire courtroom, his friends and family, that a known killer had escaped and could have caused harm to civilians, maybe even escaped for good, because he was too drunk to notice. Although, the oddity of it struck him, since he did not recall drinking more than a few glasses. It didn't matter now, since after agreeing, there was no way he could go back on his word.

So preoccupied in his thoughts, he didn't notice Alec and Magnus cast him worried glances, and Jonathan getting up from the comforter. They were all waiting for him to make the first move.

"You're lucky you're actually innocent," he finally said. At this comment he saw Jonathan struggle to conceal a grin, which was quickly wiped off when Jace returned it with an ice cold glare. More the odd was when the former decided to make his way, lay a hand on the side of Jace's shoulder, and thank him. Jace didn't respond, but acknowledged the gesture with a nod. The anger subsided, and he felt a dull ache in its place, a mixture of resentment and an inquisitive wonder of what is going to happen next. So like that they waited, talking little, and doing even less. Magnus offered to make some 3 am dinner, and their dinner, which consisted of fried eggs and sausage bites, was also eaten in silence. It was tranquil, for a while, and the pleasantness soon faded away when Robert inevitably returned, with company.

It was the morning after, and most everybody fell asleep. Magnus and Alec were sleeping in Magnus's room and Jonathan got the spare room, sleeping on a run down mattress on the floor while Jace tumbled over in the queen sized bed. It was barely the crack of dawn before they were rudely woken up to raucous knocks, followed almost immediately by the breaking of the door, and screeching footsteps up the stairs. Before Jonathan knew what was happening, shadowhunters barged into the room, and grasped him by his arms, pushing him violently to stand upright. In the back stood Robert, looking tired and worn out, but gravely serious.

"We ran further investigations. There has not been any others traces of evidence that will help us discharge you, no fingerprints, no blood samples. You are currently the only suspect. Jonathan, I would like you to stand trial by sword now."

Jonathan was furious. He was being incriminated for someone else's crimes, and for the first time since his first trial, he was completely innocent. There was a murderer out there that would get out free because he was simply the easiest person to throw in jail. He was the easiest person to put on trial, and what rifled him more, was that the order would no doubt be relieved that they found a reason to get rid of him, and the threat he poses. The justice system, in a word, was simply being lazy. Those thoughts were what led him to say a sentence that he'd regret throughout the entire day. "It isn't my fault that the order doesn't know how to do its job."

Robert fixed him a cold glare, but didn't dignify him with a response. "Put your hands forward."

Jonathan didn't reprimand the order, didn't say any more damning accusations; he complied, a snarl hidden behind clenched teeth. The last time he held out his hands, it ended him with a scratch from the sword. This time however, it wasn't the case. Robert drew out his stele, and after a quick sketch, shackles made of fire encircled his wrists, bounding him in place.

"Just in case you get any bright ideas. One sharp movement, and I promise you you will feel the consequence of disobedience."

After being dragged by the guards all the way to the institute, followed by Jace and the rest right on his heel, they made it into a desolate place to hold the trial. Jonathan was surprised by the private manner of this sentence, but then it made sense. They couldn't conduct a full order and crowd on such short notice, and Robert was desperate to catch the culprit before panic ensued amongst his people.

The shadowhunters that have dragged him along let go of him suddenly, making Jonathan almost trip and burn his entire left arm off in the process. Luckily, he caught his footing, and stood glued to the spot, breathing heavily. The flames flared high from the handcuffs, their shadow reflecting in his eyes, until they slowly settled down, moving in rhythmic, non dangerous stirrings in response to Jonathan's immobility. The defendant's eyes shifted to settle on the sword, held in an upright position, which Jonathan came to know better and better nowadays.

"Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern, this is your second and final trial. There will be no other chances, and no Clary jumping to your rescue. If indeed you are found guilty, you'll be sentenced to death. Now, even if by sword you claim your innocence, you must be sure that it is not enough. We'll have to run further examinations to make sure there was no way you wielded dark forces to jeopardize the artifact. You may now proceed. Did you murder the man Eliot Anderson?

Jonathan cleared his throat, and held the sword with confidence. "I have not."

"Tell me what were you doing outside of the party?"

"I was... trying to escape." Jonathan gasped at the sudden lurch of pain he felt at the sword's power. "But only for a short time, to have a bit of freedom from Jace. I was going to return I swear."

"So it was Jace who wasn't doing his job properly?"

Jace averted his gaze to the floor, staring at his feet. He could hear the disappointment in the inquisitor's voice, and knew that others were thinking the same.

He was stressed that if Jonathan got convicted, he might find some jail time as well.

"He... he was doing his job properly." Jonathan did not mean to say what he just had. It was the sword's effect, the secrets you would like to keep most are the ones that are set free the quickest. He could only imagine how Jace would react to Jonathan having drugged him. In a wave of panic, he tried to focus hard enough not to say anything until Robert asked the next question.

He might have even succeeded had Robert not pressed the matter further. "And why is that?"

Jonathan shook his head 'no' without speaking a word. He knew the moment his mouth would open, it would say on its own accord exactly what was on his mind. He wasn't quite ready to deal with the implications. Facing the Order's wrath felt safer than dealing with Jace, and it was not as if the Order was in the most merciful of moods right of now.

Robert fixed him a glare made of ice. "Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern, if you do not answer my questions I will have no choice but to believe the murders are caused by your hand, and by the angel, I promise from here your path to hell will be a short one."

Jonathan could feel the piercing daggers of the sword. It railed all the way up from his spine to his mouth, until it became unbearable and he had to open up to speak. "I didn't mean anything of it. I just couldn't deal with Jace's arguments, and I didn't want to sit in a room of people who clearly didn't like me. It was supposed to be one evening, to catch some sanity so I could return more patient. Really, it was supposed to be a positive outcome for everyone."

"Stop avoiding the question, and answer me clearly."

"Jace was next to me the entire evening. He didn't let me out of arm's range. I knew the slightest movement would be felt by him, so when he was talking to Alec, I poured a few droplets of potion in his drink. And... it worked. It hurt him, and then he felt dizzy. I didn't stick around to see what happened to him, but he was pretty delusional. He most likely didn't notice anything about his surroundings for what I calculated to be at least 10 minutes. So... I went out."

No one commented when he finished speaking. Jonathan dared to glance over at Jace, and noticed that his eyebrows were knitted, shaping the outline of a frown. There was something unrecognizable in the way he held himself, the way his fists rubbed one against the other. It probably meant it was a side of him he will soon get to know, but wish he never did. Splendid.

It was stupid to think he could run away from Jace. As if he ever really did. Jace haunted him as much as he haunted Jace. But Jace wasn't the reason he was here on trial. His own actions led him here. It started with his father, it continued to Sebastian, and that caused a chain reaction to everything bad happening in his life. Were it not for Sebastian, the werewolves would have not attacked him. Were it not for his father, he wouldn't be standing trial for a murder he didn't commit, being the most wanted criminal in shadowhunter existence.

Valentine was dead, but he had a great time fucking with him from beyond the grave.

If it were different, if it were Clary with the demon blood and him with the angel grace, would this have played out the same? Would she have made the same choices as him?

Probably not.

And now he chose to drug Jace in order to have a few minutes alone, ultimately ending in disaster for both of them.

"The consequences of the crime you confessed to will be decided at a later date, but rest assured- there will be consequences." Jonathan nodded his understanding. He felt the pain of the cuffs, the heat spreading from his fidgeting, and the surge of power from the sword. Combined, they left him lightheaded and sweaty. "I will ask again, are you the killer of Eliot Anderston?"

"No, I am not."

"Are you in any way related to the murder? Did you assist in its planning, heard of it, or have partaken in the act?"

Jonathan shook his head no. "I have no relation to the murder or its planning and in fact, this is the first time I have heard of the name you mentioned. I have no ill will towards him, I do not know anyone who would, either."

"This is all good and well," Robert remarked, turning his back to the prosecuted, and waving at his guards a dismissive gesture. "We will continue in our interrogations. See if another suspect pops up, and check for any dark forces that could be at play with the sword. For now, take the prisoner to his room."

Jonathan released his grip from the sword, but the sense of relief that he expected, did not come. The cuffs hurt him enough for him not to notice the difference, and the outcome of the trial itself didn't brighten up his spirits as it should have.

The guards kept a tight grip on his wrist, and he made no move to resist. The entire way back to the institute he knew he made a big error in judgement. What did he think to himself? That no one would ask questions? He will suffer for that mistake, one way or the other. Jace will be insufferable, the guards will double their patrol, he will never be trusted again...

In honesty, what bothered him the most was Jace. He might have not been close to him before (understatement of the century) but at least there was a hint of trust. That tiny shred, wherever it lurked, was well destroyed by now. Given another chance, he would not save him from werewolves.

"Hey, demonboy, we're here."

The guard didn't bother being gentle, and threw him at the second guard, causing the handcuffs to rub against his arm. Jonathan stifled a scream, as he felt his skin being scorched, and a burn marking its place. "Oops. Sorry. (smile) I'm not so focused on one hour of sleep. Some of us were busy investigating certain matters all night. I'm not a judge, but I don't think we need a sword to know you had something to do with it. It all just seems to convenient, werewolf bar and all, and danger always connects to you, demon."

Jonathan was too occupied with the stinging of his flesh to concentrate on what the guards were saying. He didn't need to listen to know they were accusing him of the murder. He didn't need the ability to read minds to know that's what everybody else thinks as well.

The guards said a word or two, that included an oath to an angel, and the door of the institute opened in response. They pushed the prisoner inside, and Jonathan managed to carry himself well enough not to get another burn.

"Put your hands forward." He answered their command. They removed the astela, scrawled something unintelligible and the cuffs disappeared. The marks beneath it, however, were red and blistering, and it felt as though he had just been fried.

"Make sure he doesn't leave this place. Robert will arrive in about an hour, along with your siblings." Jonathan raised his head to find the guards talking with Jace near the entrance. "Don't drink or eat anything when you're close to him. If he gets any funny ideas, you know how to handle him."

"Oh, don't worry, I know exactly how."

"You have the Order's sincerest apologies. Robert is going to find a solution where you won't have to look after him anymore. He thanks you for enduring the agitation it must have caused you."

He nodded gravely, and locked the door as the guards left, after promising once again he knows how to take care of himself. Jace considered whether to ignore Jonathan's presence completely, or tell him exactly what's on his mind. He struggled for a minute to find a proper wording, one befitting the strange emotions he felt at the moment.

"You know how bad I felt with myself for thinking I got drunk? No, really, try to imagine this in your small, self centered mind. An hour I was searching for you, an hour which half of it, I was out of my fucking mind from the potion you gave me. 10 minutes? The after effects lasted three times as much. You are currently a danger and under probation for acts you yourself know can't go unpunished, and if anyone got hurt, it was on me. If you got hurt, it was on me. And I feel so fucking stupid, because for a few moments, I was actually worried about you." Jonathan knew what was going to come next, the whole sentence smelled of a but. "I have no idea why, it passed as quickly as it came, but the fact that I didn't want to see you hurt... it is unimaginable after everything you've done to me. I guess I wanted to believe there was a chance, but then you go and drug me. And let me cover for you. You're despicable, and-and evil."

Jonathan smiled despite himself. He watched Jace's anger, and felt brightened. The fact that he was this affected meant he cared, it meant that he wasn't indifferent to him. Someone wasn't indifferent towards him, didn't feel only just disgust towards him. He felt a noticeable ease at this revelation. "You don't really believe that. I thought you did up till now... but now, I realize you don't."

"Hey that's not what I said-"

"Nono this is great. From now on I'll be good, I swear. I thought nobody thought I was going to get better, this is amazing."

Jace wanted to retort and crush Jonathan's positivity, to tell him that he is never going to trust him again, and that there's only wickedness in him as far as he's concerned. But being angry all the time was exhausting him, and if this might keep Jonathan on good behavior in the little time they had left, well, he can let him have this one. He didn't want another drugging incident, or an escape attempt. Jace was probably already viewed as incapable by Robert, and he wanted to prove that he was more than capable to watch over one washed up shadowhunter, even if it was in this case a very dangerous one.

Also, he did believe in his innocence, which irked him.

So all the terrible things he planned on saying dissipated in his mouth, and he just gave a groan, and a noncommittal shrug.

"Just stop doing stupid things."

"You have my word."

Jace gave a snort, and smiled bitterly. "Like that's worth much."

Jonathan sat down on the couch and Jace sat besides him, waiting for Robert to make his appearance.

"So, what do you think will happen to me now?"

Jace saw Jonathan was feeling particularly chatty, and berated himself for letting him believe they were okay, when really, they weren't. Now he would want to converse with him, great. Choking down an insult, he decided to humor him, having nothing better to do anyhow. He only hoped this would truly be the last time he saw him.

"If they don't find another suspect, I think they would put you back into jail, if only to satisfy the frightened public. If they do... well, you might get transferred to another institute, or kept here to complete your rehabilitation program. Either way, you don't get out cheap out of this, since you did try to escape. I have to wonder, during your short escapade, did you actually entertain the thought of leaving for good?"

"For good?" Jonathan tried to remember the hazy details of last night. Did he at some point think he could get away with running away forever? "I did, maybe for a second. But where would I go? They would have found me in the end. They already branded and marked me, a simple tracking rune would have led them straight to me. My abilities aren't what they once were... Honestly, I don't know what I would have done if I did manage to escape. Pottery, perhaps?"

It was a weak attempt at a joke, but it did draw out a small chuckle from Jace. It was as freeing as the crisp, night air he felt last night when he escaped.

"You know, I never really considered you having hobbies before. Always thought you kicked puppies during your spare time. Or went around stealing candy from babies. Do you have anything else you're good at?"

"I can't be sure. Father- I mean, Valentine, taught me only skills that may be useful for a soldier. I do have a fondness for Shakespeare, I know you do too. I do often wonder how I would have turned out if he didn't raise me. Maybe I would have picked up drawing like Clary, who knows? Even now, it's hard to develop my own personality. Everything I've been taught in my childhood stands against it."

Jace sighed, and shook his head from thoughts of young Jonathan sitting down on a woolen carpet besides Clary, coloring. This made him all too human, all too sympathizable. Who knew better than himself the torment of Valentine? "I know he was harsh-"

"Harsh? Everything I ever did was to earn his love. But he didn't love me, he loved you."

"Look how well it turned out for the both of us."

Jonathan was filled with bitter reminiscence, the childhood he lost like a phantom, and the cold whip on his back sharp in his mind.

This will show you the perils of disobedience.

They didn't say anything else to one another. The ticking of the clock was the only sound to be heard in the room.

Then Robert showed up.

Jace stood upright straight away, but not fast enough for Robert to not notice the position he was in beforehand. Since when did sitting besides a person become criminal? Yet it felt so.

"I see that you are treated more kindly than I would have expected, Jonathan." He tipped his head up to stare at Jace. "The fact that he has drugged you, recently ran away, and is a former suspect for murder doesn't bother you anymore, I presume?"

Jonathan's attention was peaked, and he almost tripped in his haste off the couch. "What do you mean by former suspect?"

"It means," and he looked sad to say so, "that we found your blood at the werewolf bar. The sword has been checked and come out clear for any tempering. You story aligns, and there is no longer any evidence to convict you with. Now-"

Before he could tell that they came with no other suspects or clues as to who the murderer could be, the door swung open in urgency. In came in a shadowhunter in official looking uniform.

"I am sorry to interrupt sir. We have been informed of another murder happening 10 miles off the coast of Brooklyn. It was a shadowhunter family from our institute who were out on vacation."

Robert immediately turned his head to look at Jonathan, to make sure his physical form was still present in this room. It was, and next to him an equally surprised Jace.

There was no more mistaking it anymore, there was a person out there targeting shadowhunters, and that person was not Jonathan.