Yo guys, I'm real sorry it's been so long. I've had a lot going on lately and my heart just hasn't been in this. But luckily Jace and Clary just wouldn't shut up; and then Magnus ran in and ugh, it's a party I wished I could've skipped out on – would've made school a little easier. I hope this mega long, possibly too long, chap makes up for everything.

Disaster

Simon awoke begrudgingly, his siren of an alarm clock whaling from the bedside table only few inches from his aching ears. His sister was pounding away at the locked door, threatening to ground him if he was late. The heavy boom bang of her fists echoing the throbbing in his head. It was way too early.

Since the change his movements had become so silent and predatory that when he opened the door –Rebecca still in mid slam – a fist in the face greeted him good morning.

"Ow!" he yowled, his hand going to his face. "Shit now I'm bleeding."

Rebecca stared at him then the blood speckled on her palm. "I didn't know you could still bleed." Her voice was vacant of any emotion, which as Simon knew well, meant she was trying to hide how she really felt.

"I can bleed, and I can die, and if you keep making me bleed I'm going to get very hungry." He rubbed his soar nose, the blood flow already slowing. Vampires heal fast.

She recollected herself, smoothing her shirt over her designer jeans. "Get dressed, I'll drive you."

"I can walk to school faster than you drive."

"Shut it. I'm bored, its summer vacation for us college scholars."

He rolled his eyes, "Yay me."

Rebecca smiled, punching him in the shoulder, "Come on bud, I'll warm you up some breakfast." And as she skipped into the kitchen, Simon felt normal for the first day in weeks.

Simon sat with him feet on the dashboard. The radio was on, though only really omitting a low volume of incoherent static; that of course did not stop Rebecca from trying to sing along with the song that played underneath it as she drove him to St. Xavier's High School in her ancient Chevy. Its light blue paint job had seen better days, it flaked off when ever the wind touched it and rust stains bled all over its exterior.

"Does this thing go any faster?"

"Leave my baby alone." She scowled, her chipper singsong mood momentarily dampened.

"Becca, this thing needs to be put down."

"You're just jealous you don't have one."

"Yes because it has been my childhood dream to taint the streets with a dinosaur of my own."

She glanced at him sideways as she drove, "You got enough blood?" He loved to hear her blatantly say it.

"Yup. They'll be gross at room temperature, but I wont feel the need to run through the school tearing out the throats of virgins."

"Between that comment and that shirt I'm trying to figure out when you became such a perv."

Simon looked down at his T-shirt, which featured a game control, and the words give me a reason to push you buttons.

"This shirt is eye catching."

"Yeah, that's because the cord points down at your-"

"Becca!" If he hadn't been turned he would never have been able to react in time to grab the wheel and stir them out of the way on the oncoming 18-wheeler. It missed the by inches, and as the drivers seats lined up he could have sworn the dark haired man driving smiled at him with a mouth full of knives.

"I–I was in my lane–It just swerved right toward us–How did no one else see that–"

"Its okay," He squeezed her hand under his, still stirring for her. After a few moments she pulled her face back into its cool composed mask and snapped at him to leave the driving to the adult.

"Maybe you should walk to school from now on." Despite her efforts to seem unaffected but her voice was thick.

"Naw, this is more fun. I kinda like having a personal driver." When they had pulled up in front of the school he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Her hands loosened from where they had still been clutching the wheel and her posture softened the slightest bit. If there was anyone he could deal with better than Clary, it was Rebecca.

He threw his backpack over his shoulder, "See ya later sis."

As he ran up the concrete steps that came up from the sidewalk she called after him. "Don't eat anybody!" He smiled as he stepped through the entrance of a school he'd never thought he'd missed.

It was one of those moments when you rise to consciousness on your own, and you just feel so comfortable wrapped in the soft blackest that you really wouldn't mind not waking up just yet. It was one of those moments when the only things you seem to know were the pillow beneath your head and the warm body sleeping beside you. Then it all came rushing back.

Clary squeezed her eyes tight. Go back to sleep. Go back to sleep. Images of beautiful blonde angels practically chopped to pieces flashed behind her closed eyelids. They all had Jace's face.

But it wasn't Jace, she told herself. Jace is okay.

He stirred behind her as if her thoughts had somehow gone to him, his grip on her waist tightened. She took in the feel of him, the clean scent – sometime while she'd been asleep he'd slipped away and showered; the small tinge of blood that had been around him scrubbed away.

She committed his strong vitality to memory, to pull back to herself every time she pictured that sword impaled into his chest, the golden glint in his eyes dulled and vacant. Gone.

He moved again, his mouth made a clicking and sucking sound, something he tended to do while he slept, it always made him seem so young, fragile somehow. She knew he's wake soon; that his peace wouldn't last. He's be awake and worried and guarded – though compared to what he was, an open book; at least to her – once again.

She intertwined her pale fingers with his. Jace's hands always seemed more of those of an artist's than a warrior's to her, thin and delicate; but the dark calluses and swirls of rune scars – which were slowly beginning to cover her own body – said otherwise.

She'd protect him, she'd train as hard as she had to; until her determination to continue couldn't even push her body any longer. Jace could never know, he'd stop teaching her immediately in fear shed actually be good enough to get around him and run head first into danger. Next time someone tried to stab him she'd be between him. She had to be.

"Jace," she pressed her trembling lips to his fingers.

It was if that kiss awoke him. She felt his breath hot on her neck, a tingling that ran from her toes to the place where nibbled her ear. His hands were firm on her waist as he turned her to him, kissing her deep, hungry, soft.

"Good morning, " he said chirpily, the sunlight spilling in glinting off of his hair in a golden halo.

"Morning," She felt breathless, he always made her feel as if her lungs couldn't hold the air around him, as if the floor was perpetually dropping out from beneath her. She nuzzled closer to him. She could almost feel the angel blood inside him call to hers. Blood sings to blood. He was he other half, the angel boy; and though she herself was the angel girl she felt it was only him blessed with the divine. She wasn't as beautiful and strong as he was, just so devastatingly normal – other than her affinity to create and control runes, but that was a just a mistake, a result of the experiments her father had conducted on them, something she could not control – no matter how many times he said otherwise. But Jace, Jace was perfection.

He stiffened, his eyes becoming predatory. "I smell bacon." And just like that he was a normal guy again. He climbed over her and out the door, disappearing for a few moments before doubling back and pulling her from the bed. His hand was warm in hers and he led her down the hall, their feet padding lightly along the cold wood; and for a moment she allowed herself to take comfort in that and forget everything else. She loved him.

Jocelyn was thrown off her stride for a moment when Jace strode into the kitchen, Clary following tightly behind. Isabelle had to give Jocelyn credit; she was handling this better than most mothers possibly could.

"You're up early," she said to Jace.

"Well my mouth was watering, so I figured it was safe. You weren't cooking." She spit her tongue at him and sipped her coffee.

Maryse and Alec were still splaying with their food. Alec was moody; he and Magnus were fighting, again. H's stumbled into the kitchen mumbling good morning and stacking his plate high with food he seemed not to want.

Maryse was trying to regain any type of appetite she had had, gulping down several cup of coffee and nearly finishing an entire plate of eggs and bacon. Luke and Robert had blown through only minutes before, grabbing a cup of coffee and packing as much food as they could into a bag before they set out on another death mission, though a little less enthusiastically than usual. They were all coming back to normality.

"Actually," he mother said – somewhat proud – "She did cook."

"Jocelyn helped," Isabelle looked away from her adopted brother, suddenly shy, who was regarding her with a amused half smile.

"Nonsense," Clary's mother insisted, "I made the coffee." She winked.

Jace shrugged and made his rounds, planting a kiss on all the cheek of every woman – even Jocelyn's – in the room. When he got to Alec he gave him a pat on the back, their customary good morning, and continued to pile his plate high with food.

Clary's face was flushed as she spoke to her mother in a hushed voice, hugging her and mumbling quickly something along the lines of God get your mind outa the gutter.

She slid in between her and Jace and he immediately began making her a plate as hefty as his own before she had a moment to object. Which of course got him an appraising glance from Jocelyn.

"You're eating this morning. Don't even try it. Nephilim work outs are intense and you haven't been eating the way you should to keep from dropping." She sighed indignantly, shoving a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth, looking at him smugly.

"Haeh?"

"What?" He looked at her, a smile peeking at the corner of his lips, I'm not sure I caught that."

Clary swallowed. "Happy?"

"Not until it's all gone."

She dug in with her fork, a line furrowing between her eyes. "And no moving it around your plate," he warned, "I can tell the difference."

Isabelle laughed as Clary glared at her plate and cursed Jace under her breath. "Watch it. When I was eight he was the one who wouldn't let me leave the table until I finished my veggies, not my parents."

"He like the freaking food Nazi." Clary shoved another bite into her pouting mouth.

Isabelle leaned back I her seat, the steam if her coffee curling around her face. "So what are we doing today?"

"Beating Clary up again?" Her little freckled friend washed down half her plate with a swig of orange juice.

"Obviously-" Jace began.

"I propose a day off," she brushed her silken hair behind her ear.

"Why? You're finally bored with sucking face with Simon?" Jace scoffed.

"Jace," Clary rolled her eyes, "honestly."

Maryse smiles into her coffee, "He's a nice boy…even if he is a little dead." Jace and Jocelyn were the only ones who found her mother joke amusing. She on the other hand was surprised that her mother seemed to be okay with her daughter dating a vampire.

"It's okay Cary, this is progress, he called him by name today." Isabelle smiled triumphantly. "Face it you like him."

"No I pity him and have taken him under my wing; there's a difference."

"No there isn't–"

"I'm so sure–"

"Get over yourself Blondie–"

Alec was shaking his head, "You are all like children."

Jace turned to him, "Oh come off it Alec, have some fun."

"If you grow up, I'll have fun."

"My child like behavior is endearing, you cherish it. Are you going to eat that?"

Alec slapped away Jace's reaching hand, "Hardly, you can take that endearing quality of yours and–"

"Boys, boys," She finished the last of her coffee, "Lets be civil."

"That's impossible," Clary, said dryly, "they're both egotistical assholes."

Alec looked at her wide eyed, "Me?"

"Clary language!" Jocelyn reprimanded her daughter half-heartedly from where she stood leaning by the stove.

"Love you too babe."

"You made me eat five days worth of food!"

"Don't be dramatic, that's Izzy's territory."

"I see it as more of an art," she commented unfazed, "And any who I say we go out today, there is a Downworlder party tonight and Clary and I need some serious wardrobe improvements."

"Clary and I?" Clary raised a delicate blonde eyebrow.

"You're right, its more just you Dear." Clary began to argue but thought better of it. "No heels," she said instead, her last desperate attempt to get on high ground, knowing resistance was futile.

"Of course," Isabelle waved it off, but booth knew that she would get her way and that Clary would be stumbling down the street two, maybe three inches taller. "Ooo this is going to be so much fun."

Jace, despite the threats from Isabelle, did not go shopping.

"We're better off," She'd said bitterly. "You'd probably have her go naked."

"Is that an option?" She didn't give him the benefit of answering, instead grabbing Clary and dragging her out of the kitchen.

"Izzy I really should be training–"

"Don't even think about it. I'm tired of seeing those bruised. Besides we haven't had much girl time."

"But–"

"Nope."

"Have fun!" He called as their voices began to fade; but they were just close enough for him to hear Isabelle give a hearty laugh to Clary's mumbled response.

Jace was a little put out about the canceled training session. Clary was progressing well, and he had to admit as her boyfriend – if that was even the right word – he didn't mind the intimate closeness of it all. It had almost gotten carried away a number of times, but this would give him time for a much needed visit with the vampi– with Simon.

He busied himself in the kitchen; scrubbing down the counters until they practically sparkled, sending Maryse and Jocelyn out, suggesting they go shopping with their daughters – Isabelle could take care of Clary and herself just fine, but a little extra perfection wouldn't hurt either of them…well maybe Izzy's pride –and kicking Alec out just because he was just too grumpy. Jace couldn't deal with his brother's relationship while his own had so many cuts and scars.

He swept and scrubbed until – because this what he did when was restless, clean – finally heard the high feminine voices come closer then fade again, and the distinct clicking of the elevator moving down.

He headed back to his room and threw on a pair of jeans and an old T-shirt, one of the only ones he had left. Demon hunting was not kind to clothing.

On his way out he saw Church. The blue Persian curled in front of the elevator looked up and meowed a long whiny cry.

"The girls gone?" The cat rubbed up against his leg. Jace scratched his head with his finger, "Don't tell anyone I left okay. I mean it you devious bastard." He gave Church one more endearing scratch and stepped into the elevator. It really didn't matter if they all knew he left to see Simon, it'd just save him a lot of grief and I-told-you-so's.

Outside the Institute it was chilly, the heat of summer was gone and the winter was rushing in fast. As he stepped over the threshold he couldn't help but notice the bloodstain, he sent a silent prayer that Clary hadn't seen it.

The sun was high, about noon. Jace felt a twinge of pain in his chest, yet another lesson learned from a monster; it was if Valentine had made him who he was. Oh wait, he had. He took a deep breath; I'm the angel boy, not the demon boy, not demon. Sebastian– no Jonathan, Jonathan Christopher, Clary's biological brother had been the child born with demon blood. He had been completely evil, an abomination; he'd killed Max and Jace had barely been able to kill him while he and Izzy fought for their lives. Mysteriously though, he body had disappeared. He hoped that maybe because of the demon blood in him, he just disintegrated –that was the theory he had recently come up with. But no matter he said that to himself, repeating it like a mantra, he still felt tainted.

But no matter how many times he told himself that, he still felt tainted. He wasn't like Clary who was visibly pure and kind and angelic–

He stopped himself; he couldn't keep doing this whoa-is-me thing. He was Jace Lightwood, most talented Shadowhunter his age, he was stunningly attractive –he smiled at the last part, knowing how Clary would role her eyes – he could tell it like it was. His only weakness had once been not being able to get close to people, to love was to destroy, but he didn't have to worry about that now. He had Clary.

Simon was in the middle of his school day but he had a feeling he wouldn't mind being liberated. He never could understand the appeal of mundane schools, then again neither did most teenagers.

Jace headed toward the subway, back into his confident façade, the one most people thought was real, already looking forward to being able to let it fall to pieces when a little red head was at home in his arms.