Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments characters.

This story will be updated every SATURDAY at around 10PM CDT/CST time.

BECAUSE I FORGOT LAST TIME—Thanks for the reviews: InMySoul (twice!), and Rachel/Guest.

*****READ AN AT THE BOTTOM PLEASE******

WORD COUNT: 2154

CHAPTER SIX: THE GIRL IN THE FIREPLACE

Jace clears his throat. "So, why are we getting fake IDs?"

Clary looks at him, incredulous. "We're two teenage runaways. Might as well have a little bit of fun." She raises her eyebrows. "Plus, on a less teenage-rebellion-note, we're going to need some sort of identification if we're gonna be checking into motels."

Jace hums back in response. He leans his head back on the wall and closes his eyes as they wait for Jack to get back. He scrunches up his nose as more smoke fills the room. She watches his mouth as he frowns and bites the inside of his cheek. His eyebrows scrunch up as he coughs a little. He opens his eyes and they land on her, already watching him. He smirks as the blood rushes to her face. She turns away quickly.

Jace leans down and puts his mouth next to her ear. She can feel his lips move as he speaks, and she shudders. "Like something you see?"

Clary bites her lip and turn her head to face him. Their noses touch. "Well," she whispers, "since we're playing the part," she places her fingers into the loops of his belt and swings him around so he stands in front of her. He places his hands on each side of her head. "Yeah, I think—"

Someone clears their throat. She moves her head to see over Jace's shoulder. Jack stands behind him, waving the IDs in the air. "Sorry to interrupt the PDA, kids, but Mary Smith and Isaac McKinley are ready to go." Jace pulls himself away from her so he can take the cards from Jack. He grins at them. "How about a practice run, hm?"

Sweaty bodies cling to one another and sway to the rhythm of the music. Clary can feel Jace's front against her back, and her drunken mind immediately knows that she likes her body when it's with his body. It is quite so a new thing and it's thrilling. She loves him, she realizes. She has loved him since the first time she saw him and somehow knew him despite being who she is. Clary laughs out loud as Jace squeezes her sides and even though she might have said that out loud and even though they are both very drunk out of their minds, she doesn't really care.

She thinks about his mysterious silence and surprising satirical comments. His loping long legged gait and the sadness that is so apparent in his eyes. She thinks she would like to just hold him forever. As he sighs into her, she want to pull him down to her face and crush his mouth to hers. She does just that.

He's stiff the moment they touch, and she's a little hurt, but soon his mouth glides over hers and she is filled with relief and she let go of the breath she'd been holding.

She shivers as his hands roam down her sides and grip her hips. She begins to pull him down to her so that they're practically molded together when she feels him pulling them back toward the wall. Toward the exit window. She follows him, but never detach myself from him.

They barely make it out of the window without falling. Jace picks them up off the ground easily and they practically run to the truck. He fumbles with the key and she's telling him to hurry up because she really liked where they were going.

Once the door is open, he shoves her inside and she lay across the bench seat. He almost throws himself on top of her and starts peppering her neck with kisses. She can smell his breath and nearly jolts with realization that she's going to have her first time in a rusty old pick-up, drunk. She pulls him back up to her mouth.

In the next few minutes, both of their shirts are off and they roam each other's bodies. On his chest and back she can feel rough patches of skin, like scars, but her mind is too hazy to examine them more clearly. As he touches and gropes her, she feel warmth pooling between her thighs and she is completely lost in euphoria.

As he begins to unbutton her pants, he brings his mouth down to her ear and whispers, "My family died in a house fire."

She's about to reply with a simple "Mhm," but the haziness is beginning to clear up a little bit, and her mind registers the words he just said. She push his shoulder back and looks at his face. He's crying. "What?"

What just happened?

"I . . . I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" Jace takes a deep breath and pushes himself away. He sits up in the driver's seat and rakes his hands over his face again and again.

Clary throws her shirt back on, angrily. "You didn't mean to what? To take advantage of me? Is that it?"

"It wasn't like that—"

She interrupts him, ashamed. "Don't. Be sorry, I mean." she says gently, "I took advantage of you too, and I'm not sorry. But I am sorry I said that."

Jace only nods, his head in his hands and she feels guilty. She sighs and scoots over to him. She places her lips on his neck. His soft hair stands up but he says nothing. She tells him she's sorry and that he could trust her with anything, but he doesn't respond. She doesn't bother trying to cheer him up. She falls asleep there, with her head on his shoulder. Just before complete darkness overwhelms her she feels him wrap his arm around her and his soft lips on her temple.

She wakes up to the sound of fingers tapping on the window. She's lying on her side with Jace behind her. He must have moved them last night. She looks up lazily to see Jack tapping on the window. His mouth is moving and his voice is muffled. She grunts softly as she rolls down the window. She squints up at him.

"You guys need to leave. Seen a couple of cops patrolling nearby. Don't want you two kids gettin' caught out here."

Clary smiles at him. "Thanks, Jack. I'll come back to visit, okay?" she lies.

He flashes her a wide grin. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

She only laughs in response. The guilt is so heavy; she doesn't trust what would come out of her mouth otherwise. She watches him walk away.

She shakes Jace awake gently. He gets up painfully slow, sends her a soft smile before kissing her cheek and sitting up straight. He places his hands on the steering wheel and takes a deep breathe. He looks at her. "What's up?"

She clears her throat. "Jack's seen some cops nearby. Says we should hit the road. He sends his love."

Jace only nods and starts the engine. She know he's thinking about what happened last night because she is too, and she's sure if she looked in a mirror she would have the same distant expression on her face.

They drive out of New Jersey in silence and she doesn't bother to ask where they're going and he doesn't bother to ask for directions. She can see his mouth opening slightly every now and again, as if he's about to say something but changes his mind.

Eventually, as they cross the border from New Jersey to Pennsylvania, he asks, "Are you okay?"

Clary looks at him and scoffs. "Are you okay?"

He nods.

"Jace," she says sternly.

He lifts up his hand. "Hey, I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm the King of Okay."

She crosses her arms over her chest. "We have to talk about this, you know."

"About what, Clary?" He bites. "The fact that I almost raped you?"

"I wanted it as much as you, Jace, so you just shut the hell up!"

Jace is stunned into silence. He glares at the road and growls, "Then I don't know what we need to talk about."

"About your family, Jace!" she says, exasperated .

He shouts, "That is not open for discussion! I said that because I was distracted and—and scared!"

"Oh, we're all scared! That's the big secret, Jace. We are all scared!" His hands tighten on the steering wheel and when he doesn't respond, she continues, "We're all trapped inside cages. Planted—we can never get out. But me? I was born in mine. I don't mind it anymore."

"But you should," Jace tells her. "You should mind it. "

She laughs softly. "I do mind it. I just say I don't."

"So why lie?" Jace asks softly.

Clary takes a deep breath. "Because I'm lonely. I hate it, but I've always tried hard not to make many friends because I don't want them to suffer with me."

"So I just got stuck with you, huh?" He says jokingly.

She smiles sheepishly at him. "Sorry."

"There are worse things than being alone but it often takes too long to realize this and when you do it's too late. And there's nothing worse than too late. So I'll be there." He takes her cold hand in his warm one and smiles down at her. "I'll keep you happy, Clary. I'll keep you alive. I promise."

She can't suppress her smile, and leans up to kiss his cheek. Before she pulls away, she whispers, "You're not getting away with it that easily."

His smile slowly retreats. "Later. I promise. I have to try and make up a way that would make it easy for me to tell you. In the meantime, let's find a place to eat."

They find a McDonald's in a small town in Pennsylvania. After ordering, they both sit down at at a table in the corner. She waits for him to speak.

Jace exhales deeply. "We weren't a typical Manhattan family. My father was a well-known businessman and my mother worked with Maryse Lightwood—the Lightwoods are who I live with now. They knew a lot of good people. Good, wealthy people. My father and another man were competitors. They hated each other—not even my mother like the guy's wife."

She raises her eyebrows at him.

He holds his hands up in surrender. "I know, I know. I'm delaying the inevitable." He sighs deeply. "We were on vacation. We had a beach house on Long Island. My mother was pregnant. She was due in a few weeks—at the time. I was making a joke, saying how she needed to stay close to the fireplace until her egg of a stomach cracked open. I didn't realize how birth worked yet. What ten-year-old would?

"And they were telling me how it was too hot to have a fire going, but I kept on whining and crying and eventually they just lit it to shut me up. I was just a stupid, ungrateful kid."

"Kids aren't supposed to be grateful. They're supposed to demand candy and break your heart," Clary tells him softly.

Jace snorts. "If only someone told me that earlier. That way I wouldn't have blamed myself all these years for their deaths."

Her eyes widen. "Oh Jace, you really don't think that, do you?"

He rubs his hands over his face. "How else do you explain it? The house burned to the fucking ground. My father died almost instantly when a ceiling beam fell and crushed him. They found my mother alive . . . but she died in the ambulance. Inhaled too much smoke, I think. Broken back, et cetera. They were able to cut the baby out of her, though. A little girl. I had—have . . . a little sister."

"Where is she now?" Clary asks quietly.

"I don't know." His eyes are red and his voice quivers.

"You don't—" she tries a different approach, "What happened to her?"

"I was too young to decide where she went. Up for adoption, I suppose," he finishes, voice dead.

"Did they name her?"

"Y-yeah. After my mother, Celine. But I don't know what her full name would be now, though."

"Celine," Clary tries to keep her voice optimistic, "we can find a library. Do you remember te name of the hospital?"

"Saint Vincent." He says automatically.

"Perfect. We find a library," she repeats, "we send an email to the facility, see what happened to her."

Jace is staring at the table. He nods, but he looks distant.

She places her hand over his. His eyes slowly trail up to meet hers. "We'll find her, Jace. If you are here to make me happy, then I'm made for you."

The corner of his mouth twitches.

*****DOoooOOOOOONNNnnnnTtttTTT iggIIIGGGINNOORReeeeEEE THIS please.*****

I was really really really demotivated to write this chapter, hence the short length. Aaaand I need your help. LOOK DOWN THERE.

Hey, there's an important AN that a lot of people missed/ignored last chapter and I'd really really love it if you read it and gave me feedback via PM or review. Thanks!

Until next time.

With a hug, wood painted flesh.