Playlist:

Impressions- Tightrope by Walk the Moon

Wounds- Arms by Christina Perri

Don't go- Demons by Imagine Dragons

Home- Talking Dreams (Acoustic) by Echosmith

Music- Believer by American Authors

His- Terminal (Acoustic) by Echosmith


"Clary, sweetie, smile for the camera!" Jocelyn encouraged her daughter. Jonathan was running around, not caring that his feet were bare and wet, and Clary swore she would win their little game of tag.

"Mom! Tell Jon that cheating is wrong!" Clary snapped, watching as her brother cut across the lawn and to the backyard.

"Jonathan, play fair with your sister." Clary rolled her eyes at how easy it was to dismiss the soft request. Her brother ran out of her view, probably fooling her into running to the back yard for him just to circle around to the front.

"Jon?" Clary called out to her brother, no response but the oh-so familiar sound of an ice cream truck near by. "Mom! Can I get an ice cream?" She pleaded from across the house, hoping that when she found her mother that she'd be a bit more willing to give her the cold treat.

"Clary you just had pudding, what kind of mother would I be if I let you get high blood pressure?" Her mother asked. Clary shrugged her shoulders, not really understanding the disease her mother named.

"A good one?" She guessed. Her mother laughed making her believe that all was good again.

"Fine, but I think your brother has already ran to Luke saying the same thing. Go get him and tell him I said to share the money." Jocelyn spoke, and Clary was off, running to wherever it was her brother was located.

"Jon?!" Clary screeched once she'd opened the door to her house.

"Yeah?" He asked her.

"Mom said that I can get ice cream to, so hand over the money!" Clary giggled. She knew her brother would never be so cruel as to deny her the absolutely amazing taste of ice cream; and watched as he fished out an equal share of money from his wet swim trunks. Clary was grateful that her one-piece was just as wet, cooling her body in the hot California weather.

"Here's five, and don't buy something you're going to regret." Jonathan warned her before they both began their sprint to the ice cream truck. Jonathan, of course, ran fast ahead of her until he was an ivory blur to her. Clary was panting by the time she reached the truck, only to find her brother walking back to the house with his red white and blue popsicle.

A boy with golden hair was in line, tapping his foot against the paved road as he was handed his ice cream. She didn't exactly pay him any mind until he dropped his ice cream on the hot road. When her eyes met his, he was already staring at her.

"You dropped your ice cream!" Clary said with shock. If she ever dropped her ice cream, she would be in tears. He was still staring at her for another moment before he regained the ability to blink.

"Hi," he choked out.

"Uh, hi." She responded, confused as to why he wasn't screaming about his ruined ice cream.

"I'm Jace." He continued.

"Clary, now aren't you going to move so I can get my ice cream?" She asked him, and he quickly obliged, providing her enough space to do a cartwheel. Not that she was.

Clary ordered her ice cream, smiling with great pleasure as it chilled her burning hands. She peeled the wrapper from the popsicle, stepping on it and swearing she heard her hot feet sizzle on the cooled plastic wrap. The ice cream man drove off, giving a confused smile at the two children.

"Why aren't you sad? You dropped your ice cream." Clary blurted.

"My mom said it's important to make a memorable first impression. What are you going to remember me as?" He asked randomly. She blinked a few times, not sure what his impression could go down as. Or why he felt he should make one.

"Uh, the boy who dropped his ice cream?" She said in a 'duh' tone.

"Not something to remember…" Clary thought she heard him say.

He suddenly looked down at his ice cream, picking it up from the ground and looking at it like she wished he wasn't. Clary could already feel her heart rate pick up as she recalled what her brother said about the five second rule.

"It's already been more than five seconds! You'll kill yourself!" She said with great certainty. He shook his head, groaning before bringing the ice cream to his face "Please, don't' eat that." Clary grimaced.

She watched as he consumed the top of the cold treat, him occasionally looking up at her to make sure his deed was not in vain.

"Jace Herondale." He was too amazed to respond, surprised he hadn't died of the many diseases on the road. She was sure that someone must've died where his ice cream landed. From how she saw it, Jace was a dead man walking.

"Clarissa Adele Fairchild, though if I ever see you again, call me Clary. Clarissa is too fancy." She scrunched her nose up at her first name, wondering why her mother would ever call her such a thing.

"Well, Clary, you're in luck, because it just so happens that I live in this neighbourhood. Unless you don't. Then it is I who is unlucky."

"Why are you talking like that? Like some sort of king?" She asked him with squinted eyes. With wide eyes, she leaned in close to him. Jace grinned at her, loving the look on her face and played along. "Are you some kind of spy or something?" She whispered.

"Yep, you see, my parents aren't my real parents. They took me in after my parents died. They could have been spies." He suggested. Clary pitied him for mentioning the death of his parents. In that, she could share his hidden sorrow.

"I'm sorry about your parents. My dad died before I was born." She offered.

"Half-way to being Batman." Jace shrugged.

"Clary!" She heard a familiar voice blurt. Turning around, she saw her mother standing with concern that was vanishing and evolving into anger. Her younger brother was at her hip, chewing on some toy Jocelyn had bought him. "Clarissa Adele Fairchild, you had me worried!" Her mother chided.

"Oh!" She said, startled once her eyes had landed on Jace. "You're Maryse's son? Right?" She asked him. "Jace!" Jocelyn blurted, remembering his name but still managing to scare the small child at her hips.

"Yeah." Jace nodded.

"Clary, this boy lives right next to us!" Jocelyn chuckled.

"Really?" Clary asked her.

"So I ate ice cream off of the road for no reason?" Jace panicked.

"Hey, it was a great first impression." Clary giggled.


Her eyes snapped open, seeing nothing but bright lights and a room of white. The dream was already crumbling away like sand, making her shiver as it vanished from her memory.

"Jace?" Clary said, sitting up straight in her bed… that was unusually hard under her. When her eyes fully took in their surroundings, she realized that they had fallen asleep on the bathroom floor. They as in- she blushed, realizing that she had been leaning on Jace as she slept. He had an arm draped over her shoulder and his head was pressed against the bathroom wall. There was a large towel thrown over both their thighs. He must've done that, probably too exhausted to carry her to bed.

The dark shadows that were once under his eyes had begun to fade. Such a shame that they were going to be replaced with a nasty bruise. His bottom lip was swollen with a cut, and his chin took a sharp curve as the injury that had been placed there began to intensify. At least she could see most of the damage. There were a punches to the stomach, but they weren't as strong.

Sebastian was probably in just as bad a shape as Jace was.

And she found herself smiling.

Get over yourself, the voice snickered. Clary shook away the giddy thought of two very handsome men both wanting to be with her when she saw herself as nothing more than average. Average wasn't pretty, average wasn't even attention grabbing. Jace and Sebastian looked like the kind of guys who went above and beyond in everything, it scared her that she was enough in both of their eyes.

Especially to Jace - who was still asleep.

Seeing as he wasn't awake, she allowed herself to continue leaning on his shoulder, tucking herself deeper into his arm. It felt so natural to her- to be with him and use him to calm herself down. He was like a sedative that didn't have to be brutally injected into her arm.

Yeah, he told her about that.

She rested her eyes, but it wasn't darkness that lulled her to sleep, it was security. Just the thought of him willing to go to such lengths for her was enough to rest her uneasy mind. He was so warm, so strong, so protective- she didn't need much more proof other than looking at his battered face. It didn't morph his beauty though. In fact, it made her heart swell at how pain meant nothing to him when she was the end result.

"No, don't go." Clary heard Jace whimper. Her eyes popped open, watching as his fingers twitched on his free hand. Though his eyes were still closed.

"Don't leave me." He continued, and this time he was full on hugging her to his chest, as if she'd literally leave him. She was now situated in his lap, him cradling her like some sort of child. And as much as she didn't like to admit it, she wasn't that far off when it came to height comparisons.

"Jace, Jace wake up." Clary said with a sharp tone. His eyes fluttered open, widening at their position. "Were you having a nightmare?" She blurted.

"Uh, more like a memory." He answered. She dipped her head, looking at his wrinkled shirt, wondering if he was going to go home and change out of his old clothes.

"Do you think about it often?" She asked him.

"Think about what often?" Jace questioned.

"The accident. Do you think of how much it changed?" Clary explained. His eyes drifted off to the side of the bathroom. Whether the he figured she was sorry or not, Clary thought back to what she had said to him. How cruel she was to blame him when he must've been blaming himself. "I'm sorry for what I said. It wasn't your fault." She apologized randomly.

"But it is. If I made you stay, you would actually remember me. You'd be my wife and we could've started a family, bought a dog for our hyper kids, visited your mom on the weekends. Don't you see? I ruined that!" He vented. Clary paused for a moment, allowing him to exhale his unreasonable regrets.

"Stop. It wasn't your fault. It was more mine than yours."

"Too soon? How is this moving to soon?!" Jace gasped at her.

"I'm not breaking up with you, but don't you think that we're a little young to be getting married?" Clary reasoned. Jace furiously shook his head, his fists beginning to clench. A sign that they were getting into another huge argument.

"No, Clary, I don't. Why are you stalling the inevitable? I love you and you love me, so what's the problem?" He sighed.

"Of course we love each other now, but in a few years time, that could change. We could change." She whispered, knowing that he was doing none other than rolling his eyes at her.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you saying that you have doubts?" Jace growled. "Does this have something to do about Sebastian?" His voice rose in suspicion. Clary's nostril flared.

"Fuck you." She snapped, watching his face change from shock to rage.

"Wouldn't want to regret it, would you?" He said sarcastically, and the next thing she knew, she was gripping a plate and flinging it in his direction.

She pulled away from the vision, not being able to absorb anything other than a massive guilt. Jace was still holding her, albeit a little tighter. He was saying things into her ear, though she couldn't quite hear im over the blood rushing into them.

"Wha- what happened?" She blinked.

"You froze or fainted or whatever, it just scares the shit out of me when you do that. It shows me how empty your mind is ever since the accident." Jace answered. "All because of me," he added softly.

"Stop saying that, it's not healthy." Clary groaned.

"You're not healthy because of me. Not mentally." He grimaced.

"Jace! Enough!" She ordered "If you really care about my sanity, you won't say that again. Hearing you talk like that is putting a dent on my mood. So unless you have something good to say about yourself, don't say anything." Clary finished. Her palms were flat against his chest, her staring into his golden eyes for some form of a promise.

"Okay," he agreed.


She was staring at a sand-colored house. A picket fence bordered the small but well kept yard. Flowers of many colors grew in the garden that was next to the porch. Cheesy signs were stuck into the fertilized soil, making her wonder if Jace was the one to decorate it. The door, although as plain as it was crafted, was painted red, a color that surprisingly went well with the color of the house.

A stone pathway led up to the front steps, making her hold her breath as she approached the gate. They were like the countdown to her past, of what she did with it. Jace was standing a few feet ahead of her, just having opened the gate and now anxiously waiting for her to take the first steps with him.

"What do you think so far?" He asked her, no smile to hide the worried smile on his face. She eyed the fence with caution, sliding her feet across the ground till she reached it. Her breathing was slow. Whether she was calm or stalling a panic attack was beyond her knowledge. Clary saw his fingers twitch at his side, and almost like it was instinct, she slipped his hand into his. It was as if there was a force pulling them together no matter how hard she unconsciously fought it.

"It's… nice. Small, I like it. Different from the hospital." Though, she was reminding herself that she had to return to the hospital at the end of the day. Doctors were wary to release her after seeing a few of her episodes that she had no recollection of. Jace wouldn't tell her what happened during them, perhaps to spare her feelings or to be secretive.

She had come to learn that she hated those.

"We can wait if you want?" Jace asked her, and she looked down to see that he was rubbing her hand with the pad of his thumb.

"No, no waiting. I've waited five years to see this place." Clary insisted. Even if she had no recollection of those five years, she couldn't help but wonder how the other Clary would have lived. How she placed her furniture -or made Jace place it- hung her pictures. Seeing them might help her remember. Might.

"Then follow me," Jace grinned, giving a tug on her hand as he led them over the stone pathway. She listened to the steady sound of his shoes on the rocks as some form of second-keeping. Out of the corner of her eye she could spot some of their neighbours watching her. Watching to see if she'd lose her mind. Which she wasn't.

When she was staring at the wooden boundary that was their red door, she froze. Closing her eyes, she sucked in a few quick breaths to scatter the onset of vertigo.

"You okay?" Jace asked her. Clary pursed her lips, her neck so tight that she couldn't nod back to him.

"I - I just need a minute." She whispered. Whether he understood or not, he waited patiently for her heart rate to go down. When she reopened her eyes, he wasn't looking at her but instead the door. The privacy was nice of him. "Okay, I'm ready. You can open the door." Clary spoke in a more gathered tone.

Jace reached his free hand forward, pushing the key into the lock and twisting it open. He nudged open the door with the tip of his shoe, it creaking open just the way she expected it too. If that was such a thing.

From what she could see, their house wasn't over done. Immediately did her eyes land on the living room, on the blue sofa that didn't look at all odd with the paintings that stuck to the walls. What looked like a kitchen was a few feet away from the living room. The room wasn't shared though, her only being able to see the kitchen through the threshold of its entrance. Directly across from her was a hallway that had doors on its side. Clary guessed that the bedroom and bathroom was located there.

"Can we go in?" She asked, and Jace walked a few paces ahead of her, still holding onto her hand. It was like her feet were frozen, her too scared to make the first few steps of her past life. This was the place where their epic fight took place. Where she decided that a fast drive was a wise decision.

"I can't move my feet." She panicked.

"I can help with that." Jace grinned. Clary gasped when he scooped her up in his arms as if it were the day they got back from their honeymoon and he were to carry her past the threshold.

"You didn't have to do this." Clary groaned as he carried her into the living room. She spotted a flat screen, so different from the cubed TV in her hospital room.

"Yes, I did." Jace said matter-of-factly. His grin practically bore into her cheek as she looked around the room. The kitchen, from what she could see, was painted a soft orange, nothing too dramatic. Jace set her down, allowing her to wander about the front half of the house. She had to admit that the paintings that hung on the walls were beautiful.

Once she had started stepping into the hallway, he was at her side, holding her hand as he'd done a few minutes ago.

Opening the first door, she saw that it was a bathroom decorated to look like the ocean with its sea turtle shower curtain and dolphin soap holder.

"Why did you decorate the bathroom this way?" Clary snickered.

"I didn't. You did and there was no way I was saying no to the woman that could take away my favorite activity." Jace answered.

"Which was?"

"Sex," and they left the bathroom on a quieter note.

The next door she opened was an empty room, nothing more to stare at than bare walls and a ceiling fan.

"Why do we have an empty room? Couldn't we have filled it with something?" Clary asked from in front of him. She heard him exhale slowly, not out of anger though.

"We were going to fill it with something, but not until we were financially secure." Jace explained. It took her a moment to realize what he was saying.

"Kids? We were going to have kids?" She guffawed, already beginning to feel her biological clock tick away.

"Eventually." He said, turning back into the hallways where she met him.

"And this is…" She started before opening the brown door with a funny painting of a heart hung on it. The signature said that he had drawn it.

"Our bedroom." He finished. "Oh and you made me paint that by the way." Jace added. She giggled before grasping the bronze knob, feeling how cold and yet familiarly warm it was.

"Here! Let's hang it here!" She laughed, steadying the picture she'd painted of him next to the bed.

"Why there?" Jace asked her.

"Because I want to stare at another you while we have sex." Clary teased. She couldn't believe at the jealousy that crossed his face even though it was a portrait of himself.

"No way, it's me thats making you scream and it's me that you'll be looking at." Jace growled, pushing her towards the bed and not able to hide his eager smile.

"Oh!" She squeaked, locking her arms around something as she came to. When her eyes regained their vision, it was his neck that she had her arms around. And not aggressively but as if she were… about to kiss him. Whatever her vision was about, it was something that made her skin heat and heart beat quicker.

Jace wasn't saying anything, just breathing quietly and wrapping his arms around the small of her back. His thumb was stroking the skin that her pulled-up shirt revealed. He wasn't being seductive at all. The way he was touching her and holding her were out of love. Like she was the prettiest gem to ever surface the ground.

"I-I think we should go in now," Clary whispered. He nodded his head against hers, pulling back and frowning at the space.

The room was a plain white, but the colorful paintings compensated for the fact. The queen sized bed had a quilted cover and a white headboard. It looked so comfortable to her that her eyes began to droop. When her eyes scanned around the bed, she saw a stereo next it. Immediately did she walk to it, wondering what he had to play on it.

"You have to use an iPod." Jace answered to her confusion at the protruding piece of metal that was located where the CD should go. "Yours is in the drawer under it." He added. Her hand wrapped around the drawer's knob, opening it to see a flat iPod. When she pressed on the power button, a symbol flashed at her. It looked as intricate as the star on her shoulder. Maneuvering through the device, she located the playlist of music she herself had stored.

"Suck it and see?" Clary grimaced at one of the albums.

"Arctic Monkeys." Jace chuckled. She played the first song, Piledriver Waltz, noticing how the beginning sounded like some sort of alarm clock. She skipped to the next album.

"Shake it out." She repeated the song title. Whoever Florence was, she was a talented singer. Along with her machine as well.

"Who's this young giant?" She asked Jace.

"It Young The Giant and you used to listen to that by the way." Jace corrected.

"Chasing Cars? That isn't funny Jace." Clary frowned, looking at the Snow Patrol song title.

"Try Pandora, it'll find you some new songs or songs that I put in for you." Jace suggested. She did as he said, finding the app he must've downloaded for her and pressing on a playlist. Instantly did an upbeat song begin to play, nearly startling her. Her toes began to tap along to the drum beat.

"Dance with me." She blurted. Dancing, something she never thought she would like but after Sebastian had showed her how to move her hips, she was more than ready to start again. Jace looked hesitant at taking her hand, nervous to go along with the fast rhythm.

She laughed at how rigid he was, so she put her hands at his hips and moved them herself.

"Don't do that," Jace gasped with a shocked smile.

"Well, you're not moving. I'm used to fast movement. Or whatever it was that Sebastian showed me…" She shrugged, squealing when he picked her up from the floor and spun her around elegantly. He grinned at her shocked expression, slowing down to not make her dizzy.

The next song was slower, letting their pace drop to something that would lull her to sleep. She hated that he was so much taller than her, not allowing her face anywhere near his.

"Why are you frowning?" Jace asked her.

"I'm too small," she huffed.

"I can fix that."

"How-" She gasped when he gripped her thighs and lifted her, sliding her hands down her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Her face was so close to his, height no longer a problem. She could see the gold in his eyes darken, then turned her gaze to his full pink lip.

"Is this weird?" Jace blurted.

"It- it should be. But it isn't." Clary admitted. He nodded, resting his head in the crook of her neck as he held her to him. His hands were now at her waist, lightly tracing lines on the exposed skin.

"Did we do this a lot?" Clary asked him.

"Yeah, but it usually led to something else." Jace grinned. Clary shook her head at him, just burying it in the warm skin of his neck. It shocked her at how perfectly her body fit his. How they seemed to be… made for each other.

Jace misjudged the placement of the bed and it ended up knocking the back of his knees. Off balance, they landed on the quilted bedspread with a sharp intake of air. Her cheeks burned so heatedly that she was sure she must've looked like a stop sign to him. Yet, in his eyes was nothing more than pure adoration.

Something felt off to her. Her chest tightened and her skin prickled where it made contact with his. Suddenly, it wasn't as if she were alone in the world, more or less being tied down to it by him. Like he was why she had fought so hard during her coma. Why even after five years and amnesia, along with him trying to move on, they still seemed to find each other.

Clary brushed his golden waves back with her fingertips, feeling that his skin had heated to just as hot as hers. He sat up on his elbows, leaning into her. Her fingers wrapped around the neckline of his shirt, feeling a primal instinct to tear at it. Jace's hand pressed into her back, giving the final push of her towards him.

Their lips found their way to each other, brushing against the other until stalling was no longer romantic and instead a painful bore. Then he stopped, looking into her eyes for assurance. And if she could say anything, she would say that she had never more definite in the small days of her existence.

His lips slid against hers. Clary's patience thinned to desperation, gripping him to her and crushing herself to his chest. Jace's palms flattened against her back, as if the space between them was killing him, because it was definitely killing her. He felt so soft against her, so right. As if no one else deserved to be this close to her. Her palms slid up to his face, skimming past his chin and weaving into his curls.

The moment couldn't have been more perfect, more destined for two people. Because that's what it was that brought them together, that made them tackle all the obstacles and all the threats they'd faced. Destiny.

The room seemed to disappear between their heated contact. Between their whimpers and begging. No longer was she the girl who'd woken up from the coma. No longer was she the girl who had to keep reminding herself of who was who and what was what. In this moment, in this miniscule fraction of her life, she was his. Amnesia or not, she would always be his.


AU: You should totally thank Echosmith on how sweet that ended. Their sweet music had me in the mood for a happy chapter ending.

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