Chapter Seven
We walk through the Institute, Jace strolling beside me with his hands in his pockets. Neither of us have much to say and it's easier that way. Gives me time to think. I stop when a fluffy blue creature arrives in front of me, tail up and waving.
"Hey, Church," I bend down, scratching the cat behind his ears. He makes a choking sound, wiggling out from my hands and stalking over to Jace. He smirks smugly, watching the cat wind between his legs as it purrs. I cross my arms. "I thought he was supposed to be friendly?"
"He is," Jace replies, rubbing the cat momentarily before standing up. "But after all I am incredibly attractive, and he can probably sense that. Makes more sense that he'd come to me."
I roll my eyes, forgetting just how cocky Jace could be. He laughs, then nudges the cat in my direction, who looks disgruntled. I meet his yellow glare. "Where are Isabelle and Ste-" I don't finish my question before he begins to trot off, waving his tail like a flag. I follow, Jace walking closer this time.
We come to a halt at the library. How ironic. The place where it all ended its all about to begin. I turn to look at Jace and he looks as if he wishes to throw up in the potted plant outside the door.
I rest a hand on his arm briefly. "I'll go in first," I explain. "Tell him what's going on. Then I'll call for you, alright?" He nods, eyes darker. I'm not sure if this is because of the lighting or if he is truley that afraid of meeting his son.
Church was spot on as usual. Stephen is sitting on the floor in front of a chair, his head cupped in his hands as he listens to Isabelle read. I walk towards him, doing my best to keep quiet, but he hears me. He grins, forgetting the book Isabelle is holding, and sprints towards me. I catch him as he crashes ungracefully into my knees.
"Guess what?" He exclaims, looking up at me.
"What?" I ask, a smile digging its way out and onto my face. It's a natural reaction to being around Stephen. He never fails to make my day better.
"Izzerbelle was reading to me! I was learning all about these things called hair wolves!"
"Werewolves," I correct, ruffling his hair. "How nice of Isabelle to read to you," I shoot her a look and she smiles sheepishly. Of all things she just had to read him something that a typical Shadowhunter child might listen to.
Isabelle stands up, placing the book in the fold of the chair. She pauses to hug Stephen before quickly making her way out of the library. Its time. I sit in the same chair Isabelle had, holding Stephen's small hands in my own.
"There's someone very special here to see you," I tell him, and he eagerly looks around the library in response. When he sees nobody he turns to glance at me. I see the confusion in his eyes. They look like liquid gold in the light that wafts gently into the library. "He's just outside the door."
"Can I go get him?" Stephen asks innocently. I think about what Jace would say if his own son came to get him and decide against it. I don't need him adding more potential swear words to Stephen's vocabulary.
I shake my head and his face falls. "It's very important we're on our best behavior when he comes in, okay?"
Stephen nods. "Is he one of your friends, Mommy? I don't like your scary friend," I wince. He must mean Simon.
"Yes, he's one of my very good friends. And I promise he's not scary." Offering him a smile I look to the door. It's open lightly and I wonder how much Jace has heard. Probably all of it. "Jace," I call, waiting with my breath held.
Jace steps in, shutting the door behind him softly. As we walks toward us I notice he is carefully only looking at me. His hands clench and unclench at his sides. He's nervous.
With a practiced grace he settles into the chair beside me. I try not to react to the contact, of how it feels to be so close to him. I fail, shivering lightly. His hand twitches and I wonder if he's noticed.
"Hi," Stephen pipes up, looking at Jace with clear interest. Jace closes his eyes, opening them slowly. He looks at Stephen for the first time.
A strangled exclamation of breath moves past his chapped lips. His mouth hangs open and for a moment I'm worried he'll die of shock or something. I nudge his knee with my own. "Go on," I whisper, tilting my chin towards Stephen. "Say hi."
"Hello," he manages at last, voice flat. Stephen doesn't take this negatively, walking towards him instead. He rests his hands on Jace's knees, looking up at him like he had done with Magnus only a few hours ago. Jace bites his lip.
"Do you do magic like the other guy?" Stephen asks in an excited voice. I resist the urge to giggle at Jace's helpless expression. He is lost.
"No, I'm afraid I don't do magic," he replies, hesitantly covering Stephen's tiny hands with his own. They both have thin hands with long fingers. Musician hands. A noise like a suppressed sob falls out of Jace.
"So what's your name?" Stephen is clearly interested in Jace. This is a good thing. When I break the news maybe it won't hit him as hard.
Jace pauses, looking at me with a question in his eyes. I shrug, letting him know it's up to him. "My name's Jace," he answers. "Jace Herondale."
"That's my name too!" Stephen exclaims. "Well, I'm Stephen Herondale, but that's a little bit the same!"
Jace smiles at him, and it's a real smile. I wonder how long it's been since he smiled like that. The answer leaves me with a dull ache in my chest. "We even look a little bit alike," he offers cautiously, clearly wanting to leave me be the one to break the news to our son.
Stephen looks at Jace, taking in his similar golden hair and eyes. I wonder if he realizes just how much they look alike. "We do," he whispers, as if its a big secret.
When his eyes turn towards me I know it's coming. "Mom? How come Jace looks like me?"
I reach over, taking one of Jace's hands in my own and one of Stephen's in the other. "Stephen, honey, you look alike because you're related," the words don't seem to click. Jace sucks in a breath, waiting for the shoe to drop. "Jace is your father, baby."
"Father?" Stephen looks confused, setting his gaze on Jace. "You mean, a daddy? I never had one of those."
Jace clears his throat. "Well, you do now. If you'd like to have one. Me, I mean."
Stephen is quiet, then tears his hand out of mine and reaches out to point at Jace. "Will you read me books?"
"Any books you want," Jace says.
"And will you tuck me in instead of Mrs. Joan's when Mommy has work? I don't like her. She smells," he adds.
Jace laughs loudly. "Stephen!" I cry, horrified that he chose to tell this to his father during the first meeting. But Jace doesn't seem to mind. Instead, he looks happy. Relaxed.
"Of course I will."
Stephen grins, and it's like looking at two Jace's, one big and one small. "Then you can be my daddy," he declares, wrapping his arms around Jace's legs. Jace hunches over, hugging him back. I notice with a start that there are tears in his eyes. And that boy never cried again.
"You ok?" I mouth the words silently, concerned but not wanting to ruin his moment.
"Thank you," he whispers, and I'm not entirely sure if it's directed towards me or Stephen for accepting him. Either way it's good. When Stephen pulls away, he looks up at Jace again. His eyes are alive with excitement and some other emotion.
"Can we read now?"
Jace stands, taking his smaller hand in his own. "Yes, we can. Come on, we'll go find you a good book." I watch them browse the shelves, Stephen talking and Jace listening. I know then that I made the right decision. It had been selfish to keep Stephen to myself for so long. He needed Jace.
More importantly, he needed a daddy.
And maybe here in New York, the exact place I had wanted to keep him from, he had finally found one.
