A/N: I'm so sorry this is so long, but hey! I hope you enjoy this little Christmassy chapter! Happy holidays and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!

The song at the end is 'Christmas Lights' by Coldplay. :)

Jem Carstairs sat awake in the kitchen about a week after their arrival in Alicante. He had been up most of the night with Emma, soothing her after another nightmare. They were coming more frequently now, spurred on by the advancing of Christmas, the holiday that preceded the events of the war. Jem was honored that Emma still allowed him to comfort her, but he was also concerned — Emma had asked for Julian Blackthorn shortly before falling into another fitful sleep.

Emma had always been a mistrusting child and Jem found it very unnerving that she was so close with Julian. Yes, he was happy that she had found a friend who understood her - wouldn't every father be? - but he was extremely wary. When Emma first came to them, she was unusually attached to Jem; she refused to allow him out of her sight. Jem knew that was a sign of severe trauma and he often let her do what she needed to do. Eventually she grew less and less attached, closing herself off from everyone around her and retreating into her own head. Sometimes that worried Jem more than her hyper-attachment did.

"Oh," A small voice broke Jem out of his reverie. A slight teenage girl with large green-blue eyes and messy brown hair stood in the doorway, wrapped in a black sweatshirt that was about two sizes too big. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to disturb you."

Jem smiled at the girl. "It's no bother." Her eyes, the signature Blackthorn color glowing in the light, darted around the room, searching for something before resting on the floor. "Are you looking for something, Livia?" Jem asked kindly.

Livia looked up, surprise coloring her expression. "No, don't worry." She shoved her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt.

"Why the note of surprise?" Jem asked, gesturing to a chair. Livia pulled it out and sat, placing her calloused hands carefully in her lap.

"It's just- no one remembers my name. Well, hardly anyone." She amended. "They remember Octavian because he's the baby and Julian because of…what he's done-" here she paused as if waiting for Jem to make a scathing remark- "and they remember Tiberius because he's a genius and isn't too good with people. Drusilla and I, well…" She trailed off, her eyes fixed on her lap.

Jem felt for the young girl - he could imagine that it wasn't easy being in the middle of so many siblings, especially when all of them were exceptional or abnormal in some way or another. "Well, I remember you. I remember how intelligent you and your twin seem to be."

Livia shook her head, smiling fondly. "Ty's the smart one. I just follow him and make sure he doesn't blow anything up or set the bees loose."

Jem laughed. "Not so. I've seen what you can do; you're every bit as intelligent as your brother. You're just different." Livia stayed silent and Jem knew that was the end of her forthcoming nature. Diana had spoken with him about the twins, about how standoffish and divorced from the world Ty was and how protective, practical, and peace-making Livia was. Frankly, Jem was surprised that Livia had bothered to talk at all.

"Dare I ask about the bees?" Jem asked, his tone light. Livia's face broke into a grin.

"Ty likes bees. He has them in jars all over the library and in our room. He likes studying them but the jars break a lot - Tavvy used to get into them all the time when he was young - and they would get loose and fly into the drapes. You should hear Julian's shouts when he shakes them loose!" She laughed, her facade slipping for a moment. Jem chuckled along with her, imagining the eldest Blackthorn's expression when an army of bumblebees attacked him.

There was a clatter as another pair of feet thundered down the stairs. "I should go." Livia stood and pushed her chair in just as Emma entered the room. The two girls regarded one another for a moment before Livia, playing with the ends of her hair, excused herself.

"Good morning, Xiao Yi" Jem greeted his surrogate daughter, watching her move around the kitchen methodically. "Is everything alright between you and Livia." Emma nodded, not turning around. "I just thought I'd check. I never did understand girl politics." He laughed to himself. "Tessa still has many things left to teach me."

Emma turned, a mug of coffee in her hand, and leaned against the counter. Jem was sad to see the dark circles smudged under her eyes. "I'm sorry you didn't sleep well last night."

Emma shrugged, moving slightly into the shadows so that Jem wouldn't have to see her face so clearly. She knew that he was worried about her — he always was after a night like last night — and she hated it.

Jem stood, evidently finished with his morning's rumination. "I should get going; Tessa will kill me if I'm not packed before the event tonight." Emma raised her eyebrows, confused. "You didn't remember? We're leaving tomorrow morning." Jem turned and jogged up the stairs, calling for Church, his ornery cat, in his soft accented voice.

Despite herself, Emma's heart sank. She knew that they would have to go home eventually but part of her wished that she could stay a little longer. She had grown fond of Julian and the little house in the Shadowhunter city and the quiet routine she'd established there (although she did miss the fully-stocked training room of the London Institute).

Her coffee forgotten, she trudged upstairs, got dressed, and approached Julian's room. The door was open and he wasn't there, so she tried the next-best place - the roof outside his window.

"Hey Emma," Julian waved, stubbing out the end of a cigarette on the shingles. "I was just about to come find you." He studied her face. "You didn't sleep very well, did you?"

Emma shook her head, handing him her notepad with an explanation, both for her sleepless night and the reason why she'd be packing soon.

"I can't believe you're leaving." Julian studied Emma's face with sad eyes. "I'm going to miss you."

Emma knotted her fingers into the sleeve of her thick borrowed-from-Tessa jumper, her dark eyes filling up. Julian touched her arm gently. "Don't cry." He paused, thinking about anything he could do to cheer her up. "Do you want to do something fun before you go?" He asked, his deep eyes glinting mysteriously. "I have an idea."

Emma raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious despite her sadness. Julian was a good boy; he never did anything adventurous, never did anything immoral or even remotely interesting. Seeing such a mischievous glint in his eye piqued Emma's interest.

What are we doing? She wrote on her pad, showing it to him with a flourish.

Julian read it and smiled. "Did you bring anything fancy?" Emma looked at him, confused. "Come on, I'm sure there's something in the attic that you can borrow."

The teenagers scampered to the attic, avoiding the watchful stares of the twins and the curious questions of Drusilla. Julian rifled through a trunk, obviously searching for something in particular, while Emma slowly walked the perimeter of the attic. There was a baby's crib in the corner with a sizable dent in the bars. It looked like it hadn't been used in years, which made Emma sad. Baby cribs were supposed to be a symbol of happiness, of a new life just beginning.

"That was mine." A little boy stood next to Emma, inspecting the fixture sadly. "At least, 'Silla tells me it was. I slept in it during the war." He touched the dent in the bars. "My big brother kicked it when they wouldn't let him go outside."

Emma looked down at the boy, who was playing with the hem of his black t-shirt. Julian hurried over. "Sorry Em, this is my brother. Octavian, say hello."

Octavian looked up at Emma and smiled. "Hi Memma!" He chirped, mangling Emma's name in his little-boyish excitement. Emma smiled, kneeling down to his level and pulling out her notepad. His brown curls and big verdigris eyes were the same as Julian's; it was like seeing her new friend as a child.

It's nice to meet you, Octavian, she wrote. I'm sorry that I can't talk back to you. It's a long story… I'd like to be your friend though, even though I'm going away soon.

Tavvy carefully took the pad and read Emma's words, his lips turning down into a tiny frown. "Why can't you talk, Memma?" He asked. Julian shot his brother a warning look from his post near the trunks but Emma waved him off.

I don't know, Emma wrote. It wasn't totally true but it was enough to assuage Tavvy's curiosity. The little boy wandered over to where Julian was rummaging through an ancient trunk.

"What are you looking for?" Tavvy peered over Julian's shoulder. Julian triumphantly pulled a black cloth article out, grinning over at Emma.

"Found it!" He handed it over to Emma, who unfolded the garment and shook it out. It was a long black dress with a modest bodice and an A-line skirt. It was simple — no lace or frills, just a little shimmer to the gauzy fabric — and Julian knew just by looking at the dress that Emma would look stunning in it.

Emma was inspecting the dress with a mixture of confusion and gratification. "Try it on." Julian held it out to her. With a huff of a sigh, Emma grabbed the dress and stalked downstairs, retreating into her bedroom. She shimmied out of her jumper and jeans and slid the dress over her head. It fit her well — it was a bit tight around the waist but Emma didn't mind — and Emma couldn't contain a small smile at her reflection in the mirror. Getting an idea, she slipped into Tessa's room and opened her closet, looking for a pair of silver heels that she knew Tessa had brought with her. Emma and Tessa were the same size and Emma was thankful for that fact as she surveyed herself in the floor-length mirror. Her blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders, tousled and falling to the top of her ribcage. Her brown eyes glinted in the light, offset by the glimmer of the fabric. The color of the dress set off her olive skin and light hair. Emma cocked her head at herself in the mirror. I almost look pretty, she mused. She'd never really cared about how she looked before, but now… All she knew was that she couldn't wait to see Julian's face.

Emma climbed the stairs, holding her breath and looking up at Julian expectantly. Julian's mouth was slightly open and his eyes held an unreadable expression. "Wow, Emma." He breathed.

Emma's hands fidgeted at her side. She was slightly uncomfortable by Julian's gaze, but it also brought a warm feeling to her chest. She extended her notepad in his direction. Why are you dressing me up like this? She smirked while Julian read.

Julian winked at his friend, willing the blush in his cheeks to disappear. "We, my friend, are attending a party!"

After making Octavian promise to not say anything about Julian's plan to crash the Consul's gala, Julian skittered downstairs under the guise of needing to finish a painting. In reality, he needed to smoke and calm his thoughts. Seeing Emma in that dress was fascinating; he had no idea that she could look so… beautiful.

What's wrong with you? Julian asked himself, staring at himself in the mirror. His sad eyes, ringed by dark circles, and his lonely expression did nothing for his looks and he couldn't help but begin to pick out all of his physical flaws. Compared to Emma, he was hideous.

A tap on his door interrupted his thoughts. It was Emma, back in her casual clothes. She smiled at him, sitting on his bed and running her fingers over the worn quilt.

"You looked," Julian paused to clear his throat, "beautiful in that dress." He smiled softly. "That dress was my mother's. She wore it when she and my dad were going out. She left it here for safekeeping."

Emma's eyes softened and saddened. 'I'm sorry', she mouthed to Julian.

"It's okay." Julian could feel his cheeks heating again. "She would've loved to see you wearing it."

Emma nodded, looking down at her lap. The silence was comfortable now and Julian loved it. That was the thing about Emma: you could sit there for hours with her and just be. Julian knew that she had so much going on inside her head and it killed him that she couldn't verbalize it, but for now, he was content to just sit.

"I'm really going to miss you." He said mournfully.

Emma's face brightened for a moment before she scribbled something on her notepad. You're coming to the London Institute's Christmas party, right?

Julian frowned in confusion. "Yeah, of course- OH!" He bounced in excitement. "I forgot you lived there! We'll get to see each other again!"

Emma's smile matched Julian's glee. She was so happy that he was planning to come; not only would she get to see her new friend again, but she'd get to introduce him to her life. Maybe she could even convince Jem to let him stay.

"Emma?" Tessa poked her head into the bedroom, causing both teens to jump. "Jem and I will be going out soon; please be sure to finish packing so we can leave in the morning."

Emma nodded in acquiescence as Tessa disappeared. Julian looked at his watch and jumped to his feet. "Emma, they're going to leave soon! We need to get dressed!"

Emma obediently ran to her room to get dressed in her borrowed outfit, but paused in front of her mirror. She needed to do something different, something that wasn't so plain. In a stroke of either insanity or genius (Emma had yet to decide), she wet her hair in the sink and braided it, knowing that her hair would wave perfectly once dry. She gave herself an experimentally coy smile in the mirror. She was ready to crash a party.

Julian straightened the collar of his dress shirt, lamenting for the millionth time that he hadn't packed any formalwear and was thus forced to borrow from his younger brother. Ty had laughed in his face but had reluctantly coughed up a grey shirt. Julian paired it with some black slacks he found in the attic and prayed that it would be good enough. After several attempts to flatten his messy hair, he gave up and ran his fingers through it twice, hoping that was acceptable.

"You look nice." Diana commented from the doorway. Julian turned to face her, his face blank. Although they had made nice after their disagreement earlier in the week, Julian still noticed the disapproving and cautious looks Diana gave Emma whenever the two of them were together. "Where are you going?

"To the party." Julian said, rummaging through the back of his closet in the hopes of finding a tie.

"With Emma, I assume." Diana said it with a tone of resignation. Julian stayed silent, unwilling to engage her again. "Well, just be careful. I'll see you in the morning." Diana excused herself as Julian emerged with a dusty black tie. He hastily knotted it just as Emma stepped into the room. Her dress shimmered in the light and her heels clacked against the floor. She looked slightly uncomfortable in her own skin but her posture relaxed when she saw Julian.

"Shall we?" Julian asked, holding an arm out to Emma. She took it, giggling silently, and snuck a look at them in the mirror. Julian's hair was just as messy as ever and he had cleaned up nicely in a grey dress shirt and slacks. His tie was loosened slightly, giving him the adorably disheveled look she loved, and she had to fight the sudden urge to hold his hand rather than his proffered arm.

The duo set off for the Accords Hall where the party was taking place; many of the guests were also approaching so they were able to slip in undetected. Julian grabbed each of them a cup of punch and led Emma to a bench near the wall, sitting next to her and playing with a section of her skirt.

"It seems wrong that they're having a party where it happened, even if it was all those years ago." Julian murmured, unwittingly echoing Emma's thoughts. She could still remember the blood that had stained the Hall's floors long after a stranger had coaxed her, shaking and crying, out of the shadows; she could still hear the shouts of the attacking and dying; she could still taste the blood on her lips, her attacker's mixed with her own.

"Come on," Julian stood and offered Emma his hand. Behind him, Jace Herondale struck up a lovely tune on a grand piano that was probably drug in from a nearby house. "Let's dance."

Emma didn't dance, but she wasn't about to tell Julian that. She nodded, letting her friend sweep her out onto the dance floor while pretending that she didn't wish for a moment that he was something more than a friend.

Hours after the party had ended, Julian wandered through the dark and abandoned Accords Hall. He had changed back into his jeans and t-shirt and was just aimlessly walking through the large room, listening to his footsteps echo off the stone walls. He hadn't brought a cigarette, nor had he gathered up his sketchbook and pencil before he left. He actually wasn't too sure why he had come to the Hall so late, only that he didn't know where else to be.

He stopped by a pillar, tracing the worn beam with his calloused hand. His mind crept back to the Mortal War and he closed his eyes, letting the memory wash over him.

"Why did you do that? I hate you! I hate you!"

"Ty, stop it. He had to, don't you understand? He had to."

Just remembering that exchange between his siblings broke Julian's heart. Livia, so wise and well-spoken at age ten, had become his second brain after that, always willing and ready to help Julian parent the kids, do the housework, and succeed in training. Both she and Ty had grown up too fast and it was killing Julian to see the effects of his disastrous choice so many years later.

"Julian?" The accented voice of Jem Carstairs interrupted the teen's thoughts. Julian turned toward the older Shadowhunter, bowing his head respectfully. Jem's eyes gleamed in the light as he approached Julian, his Shadowhunter gear and his gait giving him the appearance of a sage old man, though his face was so young.

"Hello Mis- Jem." Julian corrected himself, remembering Jem's request to be in a first-name basis. Jem smiled at Julian as they stood next to one another.

"I saw you dancing with my daughter at the party." Jem said without preamble. His tone was kind with a hint of protectiveness, the kind of tone Julian would often take with his siblings. "Did you two have a good time?"

"Yes sir, we did. Emma is great company."

A faint smile flitted across Jem's face. "That she is, though she is a mystery. She's so calm and quiet, but also quite the angry, fearless hunter. I'm sure you've witnessed that side of he as wellr."

Julian laughed at the recollection of her fighting the demon near Lake Lyn, looking like a demon herself while she whirled, stabbed and sliced. "I definitely have."

Jem's eyes turned dark. "Did she tell her about her nightmares last night? That she'd called for you?"

Julian was surprised. Emma called for me? "No, I didn't know."

Jem heaved a sigh. "While I have no right to tell you whom you can and cannot see, I hope you'll take caution with Emma. She is a broken girl who needs understanding and care. However, I believe you can give her that." He gave Julian a supportive smile, stood in silence for a moment, then exited with an admonishment to come home soon.

Julian watched him go, sighing to himself. It dawned on him just how sad he'd be to see Emma go the next day. He felt comfortable and safe with her, something he never felt with anyone else.

At least he'd see her at Christmas, just a few months away. That was the only thought that comforted him as he slipped away, back home to his life and another night of bad dreams.

The next morning, Julian saw Emma off. He carried her things to the Portal in the Gard and was surprised when she wheeled around and hugged him tightly. Her hair tickled his ear as she buried her head in his shoulder, pressing a folded piece of paper into his hand. Julian held her, closing his eyes and trying to calm his swirling thoughts enough to memorize this feeling of companionship, of friendship, of actual love. All too soon, Emma flashed him a small smile, pulled away, and stepped through the Portal to London. Julian stood there for a moment, eyes fixed on the paper in his hand, before turning away and unfolding the careful square.

Emma's neat handwriting, as distinct as Julian imagined her voice would be, stood out stark against the page.

Julian,

I know we'll see each other again in a month, but I can't help but feel like I could cry as I write this. You've been such a great friend to me and been far kinder than I deserve and I'll never forget it. I hated the idea of coming to Idris at first but after I met you, things changed. I felt like someone understood me. I didn't have to tell you about my past (although I will someday - I promise) but you seemed to understand already, and I can't thank you enough for that.

Obviously we can't talk on the phone but it's a good thing that the mundanes invented texting. I wrote my number down below so you can text me. But only if you want to...

Thank you again for being a good friend. I'll miss you so much and I'll be thinking about you a lot. You can do it - living, I mean - I know you can.

I'll see you soon.

-Emma

Julian touched the paper wonderingly before folding it up and tucking it in his pocket. As soon as they returned to Los Angeles, he would text Emma. He wanted to talk to her again, wanted to feel the security and happiness that came with being around her, but something held him back. Was this wise? Was it smart to talk to someone so far away when the relationship could never last? Was it good to tease himself with the possibility of escaping from his life into hers if only for a second?

No, it probably wasn't. Julian knew that he should forget her, keep the relationship casual, let it fizzle out over the distance. He had too much on his plate with an ailing uncle, training and raising four children, and trying to co-lead an Institute. He couldn't possibly add anything else, but he was going to try. The blonde girl who's painting was still stashed upstairs had nestled too deeply in his heart to be removed now. Angel help him, he was going to make this work.

November and December passed quickly for both Julian and Emma, filled with training, siblings, politics, studying, and many text conversations. Julian and Emma often stayed up late with one another as they talked about life in London or L.A. or discussed siblings, music, weapons, or art. Sometimes they'd talk about the Mortal War, although Emma was vastly more interested in hearing about Julian's side of things than the other way around. Although Julian was burning to ask about Emma's past, he kept quiet, not willing to hurt or upset her by prying.

Christmas Eve was the night of the London Institute's annual Christmas party, a tradition started back in the 1800s. Jem and Tessa had spent the entire day decorating the Institute's ballroom while Emma stayed in the kitchen and baked cookies and other treats for the party while listening to loud music and texting Julian. Occasionally Jem would come in, steal a treat, and leave (much to Emma's pretend dismay) and the whole Institute felt warm and cozy despite its size. Emma was humming with excitement; she could hardly wait to see her friend again.

The guests began to arrive while Emma was changing into her party dress - a red short-skirted affair with black shoes and a red ribbon for her hair. Tessa had picked it out for her despite numerous protests and Emma had to admit that the knee-length skirt and plain sleeves (mercifully long enough to cover her scar) did wonders for her appearance.

She descended the stairs carefully so as not to trip on her heels and Julian, who had just arrived with his uncle and an entourage of siblings dressed in their best attire, stared. He didn't remember Emma looking so… womanly.

"Memma!" Octavian ran toward Emma, who knelt and hugged him with a bright smile, re-tying the eight-year-old's bow tie that was flapping loose around his collar. She hugged Drusilla next and waved to the wide-eyed twins before turning and smiling radiantly at Julian. Julian was sure his heart was going to burst out of his chest.

"I missed you." He whispered, hugging her tightly. Emma nodded in agreement before pulling away and leading him to the ballroom. There was Shadowhunters there from all different countries; Julian was fascinated by the sheer amount of history and culture under one roof. Unlike before at the party in Alicante, where she was awkward and unsure, Emma wove through the room with grace and dignity, leading Julian along as if she was born to do so. Her brown eyes were clear and bright, the happiest Julian had ever seen her.

The night wore on while Julian made small talk, corralled his siblings into behaving for minutes at a time, and convinced Emma to dance with him. Jace Herondale and Jem Carstairs took the stage and began playing a beautiful rendition of what seemed like a hundred Christmas carols. Julian spun Emma out onto the dance floor and began slow-dancing with her, looking over her shoulder at the twins — Livia trying to teach Ty to dance with minimal success — and Dru and Tavvy sitting on the sidelines. Dru gave Julian a thumbs-up, and Julian grinned. Emma's breath was soft on his ear and he couldn't help but wish just a tiny bit that she would speak, say something in his ear. He was dying to hear her voice, though he'd never admit it.

Emma was enjoying being held so close to Julian; her cheeks were flaming from the contact, something she struggled to hide from Jem and Tessa's knowing eyes. She rested her chin on Julian's shoulder and let the music wash over her. Christmas was always a time of reflection for her, a time when she would think about the past year and the one to come. There was a sense of finality about this season and Emma loved and hated it at the same time.

The song ended and Emma, getting a bright idea, led Julian out onto the Institute steps, leaving the door cracked open so the light and music would seep out. A light dusting of snow was starting to fall. Julian blinked up at it in wonder and it occurred to Emma that he'd never experienced snow before.

Jace and Jem began playing a Coldplay Christmas song and Emma smiled faintly. Julian's eyes rested on her face as he unconsciously drifted towards her.

"You're beautiful when you smile." He whispered. Emma blushed as Julian took her hand and began slowly waltzing her to the beat of the song. Emma's eyes filled with tears and her heart swelled while they danced. She had never felt more at peace, she thought, and she was glad of it.

Those Christmas lights light up the street

Down where the sea and city meet.

May all your troubles soon be gone

Those Christmas lights keep shining on.