Okay, okay, okay. I know. This took way too long to write, and it's not even very long. I just haven't really gotten a chance to write (until today obviously) since my last update. Studying for unit finals, finishing up projects, preparing for the soccer tournament in Vegas, etc. etc. This chapter has been created throughout the last week, since I've been struggling for any time. BUT good news :D I'm on break now. Meaning- no tests, no stuco, no school :) still soccer, though. And I'm going to Vegas for a tournament, but you guys will gets something out of the long car rides.

Sorry it took so long, I hope you enjoy it.

About an hour later, Clary found herself standing in front of a blue, two-story house. The grass outside was relatively green for the cold fall that New York had began to transition into. The grass was the only thing that was bright, now slightly scuffed below her black converse. The tree beside her had already lost all of its leaves, it's branches splayed out as if it were to offer an eternal hug. There were no leaves on the ground; it had been windy today, still was. As Clary took a tentative step forward, she had to pull her jacket tighter around herself. She had known the cold seasons weren't far off, but she hadn't quite expected that New York would be this cold. The house before was two stories high, all a nice baby blur with white artfully bordering the windows, doors, and porch. She liked it. On a brighter day, this house, the grass, would have seemed warm and inviting, like the sort of neighbor hood you would see on the TV. But the overcast settled a gray haze over everything, and the world almost seemed slow, tiring. For Clary, she thought it seemed gloomy and it got her mood perfectly.

As Clary stepped onto the empty pavement, her phone began to buzz. She quickly switched it off, in no mood to talk to who was undoubtedly on the other end.

Glancing around, she realized This was the least crowded she had ever seen New York, for in fact the street and sidewalk were uninhabited, but this also looked like a higher class neighborhood of Queens, one more secluded and suitable for family life. Celine Herondale must have a family. The closer she came to the house, the harder her heart began to beat, until the point where it echoed in her skull, taunting her.

Clary stopped again, halfway up the walkway. The paper was still in her hands, which by now were clenched so hard into fists that she doubted one could read past the wrinkles of the crumpled paper.

She didn't know if she could do this, but she wasn't sure why. Clary couldn't recall a time she had ever been so nervous, even when she had been six and performed her first school play. She had been so frightened of messing up in front of everyone that Simon had to take her place. She contemplated turning around, but she knew that she couldn't. Clary had to be brave and walk up to that front door...but what would she say?

Clary didn't get a chance to decide because the front door open, paralyzing her to the pavement with a shocked expression decorated across her face. A small blur of blond hair and laughter rushed past her before a women stepped into the doorway. She had a young face, still soft and free of the exhaustion life seemed to burden with people as they aged.

"Marcus!" She called, sounding exasperated though she was smiling. The second her eyes landed on Clary, however, her mouth popped open in surprise, before she smiled warmly, "Hello there. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Clary felt, for a moment, like a deer in the headlights. She wasn't like Jace, words just didn't come to her mouth naturally without thinking about it. But she managed a smile, telling herself she had nothing to hide from this person, nothing to fake or lie about...yet, "Are you Celine Herondale?" She asked.

The women–who couldn't be in any more than her late twenties—blinked, "Yes, that's me. Is there something I can help you with?"

The little boy, Marcus, brushed past Clary once again as he ran back up the steps. Clary regarded him with only a mild startledness, knowing the little kids could be very full of energy.

"Mommy!" He cried, blonde hair just like his mothers flopping into his eyes as he flew himself into her side, "Who's that lady?"

Clary waved at him, hoping that she wasn't being creepy, "I'm Clarissa Fray," she turned her eyes back to Celine, "and I..." She shifted uncomfortably, "well, there's," should she be honest? She was a horrid liar. Clary took a deep breath, them said, "There's someone you might know...someone I really need to know more about."

"Who?" She asked her arm going around Marcus protectively.

Clary's face was red, but she tipped her chin up and took another deep breath, "Jonathan."

Celine looked surprised, but that was it. She hadn't paled, she hadn't started screaming or yelling, she just nodded, looking almost solemn, "You must be cold, why don't you come in?"

Jace POV

Jace threw open the door with a small grin on his face. He had something he was excited to show Clary, "Honey?" He drawled as he entered the apartment, "I'm home."

Jace was met by silence as he walked inside and set his bag down. His lips turned down in a frown as he glanced around, noticing the lack of the adorable, yet feisty little red head, "Clary?"

After a very brief search of the apartment, he decided to call her phone, but there was no answer. There was a sudden tightening to his chest, one that slowly began to ignite a deep dread that he fought to squelch. It was the first time since he had met her since he had come home to an empty house, but that didn't mean Clary never left, not was she required to stay. She could simply be at the mall, and her phone could have died.

Jace suspected that maybe she had left a note, though the search that ensued was more so to preoccupy himself from worry than to legitimately search. Jace was no fool, he had read into the way Clary had been acting since the night before. Something was bothering her. Looking around the house, he began to notice misplaced items that Clary normally would not leave out—books left laying beside the shelves, picture frames turned down or moved, cushions hastily tossed onto the couch, even clothes thrown astray. Clary—or someone—must have been looking for something, though he couldn't imagine what.

Concern beginning to boil over like tea on a kettle, Jace called Sebastian, pacing around the room while he did so. When Sebastian responded by saying he hadn't talked to Clary since nearly the day she arrived, he tried Alec, the Isabelle. None of them had seen her, and Jace didn't know what to do.

Clary POV

"So how did you know Jonathan?" Celine asked as Clary stepped inside, out if the cold fall air.

Know Jonathan? Clary thought, picking up on the past tense like a bird may a worm. She thought of the file Simon sent her earlier, saying that Jace—or someone with Jace's name—was dead. How should she respond, though? As if he were really dead? Clary chewed her lip and did neither, "Through my brother," she answered, a statement that could be taken both ways.

"Oh? Were they good friends?" Celine's voice drifted from the kitchen, where she had wondered off to while Clary removed her shoes.

In the entryway, several pictures hung in the entryway, but before Clary could get a closer look at them, Marcus tugged at her coat.

Clary frowned and looked down at him, offering a tentative smile, "Hello."

"I like your hair," he said as Celine walked back in.

"Marcus, why don't you go up to your room?" The little blond boy looked reluctant, but did as his mother told him.

"Can I get you anything?" The elder girl asked as she led Clary into the icing room, "Water? Tea? Crackers?"

"Just water would be fine, thank you," Clary responded, trying her best to be pleasant and kind. Celine nodded and wandered off into the kitchen while Clary took a seat on the couch. Curiously, she gazed around, wondering to herself why Jace could have possibly been given this address.

A picture caught her eye, propped into the coffee table. It was of a little girl, not much older than Marcus, with blonde ringlets, baring a toothy smile. The little girl looked familiar, and she suspected it was because she resembled Celine, or Marcus. And tucked beside it in the same frame is a smaller picture of Marcus, golden eyes twinkling mysteriously. Golden eyes...

Something seemed to click. Clary frowned as she studied the pictures, side by side. Celine stepped back into the room, to which Clary's attention snapped back to, studying the women as well. She didn't resemble the kids as much as she had originally though, her hair to bright to belong to Marcus's and the other girl—though she did share their blue eyes.

"May ask if you are in a relationship?" Clary asked through a dry throat.

Celine smiled pleasantly, placing a glass in front of Clary as she took a seat beside her.

"I'm married, actually," Celine answered, holding up a single hand to demonstrate a ring, "We have three children together."

Clary's head began to spin. She had seen the faces of those children before, daily. The resemblance was so uncanny she felt sick.

"Are you alright, Clary?"

"I... I'm sorry. I must go..." she stood up abruptly, nearly knocking her knees against the coffee table as she did so. Celine stood up in protest, but Clary moved swiftly past her, making her way to the door where she quickly stuffed her shoes back on. She saw one last picture on her way out, that that made it hard for her to breath—the blonde girl from the other night, smiling proudly and beautiful.

"Clary?" Alec stood up in surprise as the red head stumbled into the bar, gasping for breath, "Clary, are you alright?"

Clary hadn't exactly wanted to come here, but she didn't know where else to go. Her phone had died on the subway, so she had no way of contacting Sebastian. She knew that she didn't want to go back to Jace's apartment, or some random place in New York.

"I'm fine," she answered shakily, avoiding his eyes. He was Jace's brother, so surely he knew about Celine and the children. Alec reached his arm out to her in a comforting manner, to which Clary jerked back as if he were holding a weapon.

Alec looked startled. He opened his mouth to ask a question but Clary just shook her head, "Call Sebastian and ask him to pick me up," and when he didn't reply, nor make a move to call her brother, she added, "Please."

Alec studied Clary, a frown etched across his face. Without a word, he turned around. The second he was gone, Clary seemed to collapse in on herself. She ran a hand down her face and tried to take deep, even breaths. Sebastian would come pick her up. She'd tell him that she couldn't do this anymore, that she wanted to go home and to tell Jace she was sorry. She could live with Simon for a little bit...

Speaking of Simon, she checked her phone and saw that she had received several frantic texts and phone calls from him. She had hung up on him earlier that day, hadn't she? He had told her something about Jace she didn't believe, and now she didn't know. Who was Jace? Jonathan Wayland was dead. But as if that wasn't enough, Jace had the name and address of a very pretty girl tucked into his jean pocket, and that girl had two—no, three?—children who look like him...

"Here, Clary, come sit down," Alec said gently, reappearing from wherever he had gone behind the bar. She didn't particularly want to do anything of the sort, longing to put as much space between herself and Jace—and anything that has to do with him. But she just nodded and walked over silently, slumping down at one of the bar stools. He handed her a glass of water. Since her head was still spinning, Clary couldn't find any harm in drinking it.

Clary and Alec lapsed into a silence as she slowly sipped her water, waiting anxiously for Sebastian to walk through the door and take her away from this mess. Vaguely, she wondered if this counted as running away from your problems, but it couldn't? This wasn't her problem, this was Jace's. And yes, she was going back on her word to stay with him and pretend to be his wife, but Jace was being much more dishonest than she was (if that was even his name).

The sound of the door clicking shut had both Clary and Alec snapping their heads up. Alec looked grateful, and Clary had the sense he had been uncomfortable with her refusal to speak, but she didn't exactly want to talk to someone who was in on this giant, awful lie. Clary climbed off the stool, ready to escape, and came face to face with Jace.

Clary told herself that the next time she saw Jace, she would be ready to confront him, to yell at him for being such a horrid liar. She was upset and hurt, and she was ready to make Jace face that wrath. But she also wasn't expecting to see him so soon. Still, she got ready for her lecture. When she looked up and met his eyes, however, the words faded from her lips, leaving it open in a small little "oh" shape.

He looked angry—no, furious. Clary didn't thinks he had ever seen such a hard look in Jace's eyes, and she didn't like it. It was terrifying. His eyes wandered over her as he opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it into a hard line, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Clary stood deadly still, refusing to meet his deadly beautiful eyes. Then, suddenly, she was in his arms, pressed tightly against him, "Dear God, Clary," he breathed in her ear, his grip on her tightening, "Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" he still sounded angry, but there was relief in his voice, also. He pulled away after she wouldn't return the hug, hands going up to her shoulders instead. He met her eyes, "Where the hell were you?"

"Why should you even care?" Clary snapped, startling them both.

"Clary..." his voice had lost it's hard edge, "What do you-"

"What are you even doing here?" she interrupted, not in the mood to hear whatever lie he was about to tell.

Once again, Jace was surprised, but then even that emotion faded, hidden behind an impassive mask, "Alec called me," he said flatly.

"He wasn't meant to," she responded crossly, "I didn't want you here. I wanted Sebastian to come pick me up."

Jace looked exasperated, as if he were talking to an illogical child, "Why would he even-"

"I'm going home Jace," he looked annoyed as she interrupted him once again, but then he frowned.

"You could have called me to take you home."

"No," she gritted her teeth, "I'm going back to Florida."

So... cliffhanger after cliffhanger. What do you guys think is happening? Who is Jace, really?