Hello again!

Once again, I'm sorry this chapter took so long, it was a real challenge and even now I'm not entirely happy with it.

CHALLENGE TIME!

This is our second last official chapter together (sobs), but I want to give you guys something more before it's over, but I'm going to make you work for it because life's more fun that way...

CHALLENGE 1: Get this fic to 40 reviews and I'll include a special bonus chapter, set toward the end of Clockwork Prince.

CHALLENGE 2: Get this fic to 50 reviews, and I will compose a list of everything Will and Jem got up to in that attic. ;)

CHALLENGE 3: Fun one, if anyone can find the song lyrics I've hidden in the previous chapter: Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, and tell me which song they're from, I'll rewrite an event of their choice from the reversed perspective of Jem or Will :) (here's a hint, it's hidden in the dialogue)

So there guys, let's have some fun :D

But first, please enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to tell me what you think.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of the Infernal Devices or their universe, they belong to Cassandra Clare, who is the president of my feels and should be supreme ruler of the adolescent world.

Has sorrow thy young days shaded,
As clouds o'er the morning fleet?
Too fast have those young days faded
That, even in sorrow, were sweet?
Does Time with his cold wing wither
Each feeling that once was dear? -
Then, child of misfortune, come hither,
I'll weep with thee, tear for tear.

Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded - Thomas Moore~

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The door clattered against its frame violently; and in the same moment Will was running.

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He did not know whether Jem intended to follow him, or if he wanted Jem to or not; but he was moving so quickly that he could think only of what was ahead, rather than what waited behind him. He flew down the grand staircase so fast he barely comprehended how his balance persevered, but momentarily thanked his runes for carrying him safely when he could not see his way. His vision was a watery blur, and his pace sent the tears streaming past his cheeks before they had the chance even to fall. It was pathetic how instantly his strength had left him, and he knew that the second he stopped he wouldn't be able to start again; so even when he burst through the gates of the institute and into the blinding rain, he did not falter.

The deluge blanketed everything, so that Will could not see beyond the rivets his outstretched fingers made as he stumbled through the street. His clothes were drenched in seconds, and the fabric of his jacket slapped against his chest wildly when he moved. As he searched for some bearing in the darkness, Will thought he heard the sound of footsteps behind him, approaching fast. He did not know if they were coming for him, but the thought of confronting a familiar face at that moment horrified him enough to pick up speed, despite his disorientation. The heavens opened above and the rain changed direction, pushing against him violently as though trying to force him backwards. He swiped the hair from his eyes impatiently, nearly tearing it out for how frustrated it made him.

Water ran in streams along the carriage tracks in the road, and when Will tripped they splattered against his shirtfront brown and filthy. His ankle twisted and Will cried out for the pain it caused him. He lifted himself from the dirt and tested it gingerly, nearly toppling over again when it buckled. It may have been broken, but when Will heard a shout of warning and a fast moving thunder through the rain, he was forced to abandon his worry. A carriage charged into sight and two great horses nearly trampled him in their path. Will leapt out of the way, but the pain of using his ankle reverberated up his entire leg and very nearly made him faint upon landing. He careened into a side street that felt very familiar, and he used the walls of the buildings alongside the road to guide his path. His stele was dirtied but intact inside his coat pocket, so Will leant against the nearest doorway and carved an ungraceful iratze into his leg, above the line of his drenched sock. After the initial sting, his ankle began to throb less, and Will found that he could once again place his weight on it without falling. He hobbled down the street, and was discouraged to hear the sound of a raging current close ahead. As the rain thinned a little Will recognised Blackfriars Bridge, slick in the rain and almost rocking with the force of the overrun Thames below. Will swore under his breath, cursing his own sense of direction for bringing him here, one of the first places Jem would look. More than that, the familiarity of the bridge brought back all the agony that his physical pain had until now distracted from. Will wondered absent-mindedly if he'd stopped crying, or whether the rain had simply drowned all the tears out with it. He and Jem shared a thousand lazy memories here, of long afternoons watching the river pass by and hanging their feet over the edge. They talked and dreamed here, and it was all too much for Will to take.

There was an avenue just before the bridge, stinking of Thames and old fish. Will found an abandoned alcove there, close enough to the water's edge that Will could have sworn he felt the salt spray on his face, and sunk down into it gratefully. His ankle was beginning to throb again; Will decided that he had indeed broken it, and had probably slowed the process of healing it severely by walking here. Will welcomed the pain; tried to use it as a distraction against all the other forms of agony he was experiencing. He revelled in its simplicity, and its finite nature; to know that this wound would heal on its own was a wonderful consolation to have. But the pain Will felt in his heart was not so forgiving, and as the exhaustion began to settle about his shoulders he felt the entirety of its effect at last.

Jem. His Jem. The only thing in this life he had allowed himself to love fully, to love carelessly. Will had given himself to Jem like he had never been able to with any other, and now it meant nothing. Jem wanted to move on with what was left of his life. Wanted marriage, wanted a family. Jem wanted everything and Will had failed to give it to him; Will had given Jem all he could and it hadn't been enough.

Will was not enough for Jem any more.

But Will had always known the limitations involved in his and Jem's relationship; had always known that there was something that he would never share with Jem. Even in their last moments, Will had not had the courage to break the final barrier that stood between he and Jem, could not have given him the one thing that may have made a difference. Will ran his fingers through his hair and found them shaking. He tightened their grip and pulled at the hair there angrily, as though the new pain could punish his hands for their weakness. It was his fault after all, so there was no justification in the self-pity he was feeling.

The reason that he could never tell Jem of his curse was because it revealed Will's true intention of sacrificing Jem for his own self benefit. Jem was clever, and would have been drawn quickly to the realisation that Will confided in him for the fact that his illness limited him already to the point that Will's love would not limit him much further. This would be for Jem the only reason, and the thought of his despair at that conclusion scared Will more than anything else in his entire life. Even when Jem was tearing him apart Will could not hurt him, and for that he had to keep his secrets, and suffer the consequences.

He supposed he deserved this, Jem had been right after all. Their love was a futile mess, and they had both known it since the very beginning. Jem had precious time left and Will had taken a gratuitous portion of it for himself, regardless of its effect on Jem. Will had never really considered Jem's part in it at all, had he? He was forever worried that Jem was ill, that he was thin, or malnourished or weak; but had he ever once worried about whether Jem was happy? Truly happy? Such things had seemed redundant in the face of more trying problems, and Jem's health had rapidly overcome every faculty of Will's regard for him, so that his medical state was something he merely associated with Jem's emotions. He was either healthy or unwell, and for that Will had done Jem a great injustice. Jem needed someone who could see through those things and love him as an equal, and Will could not give him that. Will could respect Jem's wishes, could do his bidding and fight alongside him as Parabatai, but could never force Jem's wellbeing from his mind entirely. Was that what Jem wanted? Will had never taken the time to ask Jem what he wanted, and it was only now that Will realised how selfish his love was.

Perhaps that was part of his curse, this destructive love he gave. Maybe the demon had broken him, and given him an incomplete heart that only knew how to take what it wanted and leave the rest behind. Will had been blind, and Jem had suffered for it far too long, and now he was taking back what was his.

So how could Will deny him?

But then, what was left without Jem? Will's life had wheeled and tumbled around the same vector for so many years. Jem lived at the centre of everything Will did and thought, and he wasn't sure he knew how to alter that action now. Will's life was over, had been since the moment he opened that pyxis, and without Jem it no longer had meaning. Jem wanted to remain friends, but such things weren't possible. How could he survive, if he remained by Jem's side, only to watch him grow and love in all the ways Will knew he never could? It would be Hell, one that Jem could not comprehend, for Will had never given him the correct tools in order to do so. Will had taken so much from Jem. He had taken his friendship when Will was lonely; his loyalty as Parabatai when Will had needed companionship; his love when it had suited Will; his innocence when Will was corrupted; his body when Will desired it; and his happiness when it was an inconvenience to Will.

Jem had given everything, and given it all without consideration of taking anything back; so now that Jem was finally taking back, why did it hurt Will so badly? Water rolled of Will and was carving small rivers into the formerly dry stones of the alcove, and he felt as though his energy was being drained away from him by their currents. He leant his head back and closed his eyes, imagining what life he had remaining at the institute now. Without Jem there was nothing left for him, nothing except sadness, and the loneliness he had always known would come for him eventually. He would see love, watch it kindle amongst others and bloom into something unfathomably beautiful. He would admire the way it grew with time, and marvel at its glow, and then he would die. Will would never feel it for himself, and did not know whether he could bear the pain of watching Jem do so with someone else.

"Will!"

Will's eyes flew open at the sound of his own name, stretched over the chaos of the rain. It came again, echoing over the water and spreading like fog. Will could barely hear it over the storm, and scarcely recognised the voice, but was astonished by the fact that it must have come from the bridge.

"Will, please!" It pleaded desperately, and it was that desperation that made Will recognise it as Jem's voice. Jem was calling for him, begging in the rain, and Will felt his every muscle contract. The night was freezing, and the rain was pounding the ground as forcefully as ever. Jem was standing on a bridge, completely exposed to both of those things. Will forgot his ankle and his thoughts, completely forgot them for a wild moment. Jem was ill, caught in this storm because of him. Despite everything, Will's instinct to protect Jem nearly overpowered his every resolve, and it nearly killed him to remain within the dirty alcove.

Will's instinct was to protect Jem, but Jem did not want to be protected. Will wanted to go to Jem for all the reasons he shouldn't, and for that he forced himself to sink back into his seat as the calls continued. Jem's voice faded over time, and eventually dissipated completely into the surrounding rain, leaving Will feeling emptier than he could have thought possible.

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Everything, Will lamented, feeling a strange numbness spread through his limbs so that he was no longer able to move, I have lost everything…

Bit of a short one, and only one chapter to go :'(

remember the challenges guys so drop a review because every single one counts (and I kind of need them to live)

sorry for any typos, they're like the perpetual dirty spot on your windscreen, so we all need to learn to squint around them.

Beta'd by the lovely Tash, who knows where those lyrics are (I've had to tie her fingers together so she wont type the cat out the bag)

Chloe :)