No one can ever follow

No one can ever know

Wind up the spinning-top and watch it go, watch it go.

- Snow Patrol – I Won't Let Go.

oOoOo

Christmas Day arrived in a howling blizzard. The decorations outside were buried under deep snow, only the faint glow from the electrical reindeer and Santa somewhat visible, their brightness dulled to almost nothing.

Clary was awoken at the crack of dawn by her brother marching through the house like a one-manned band, singing Christmas songs at the top of his voice, all with his own very rude lyrics. It was only when their father threatened to clobber him over the head with the nearest heavy item – his frying pan – that his son finally shut up and dived into the living room where the small pile of presents were waiting to be opened.

"Did Izzy get out fine?" Jonathan asked, keeping his voice low as he tore into a present so their father wouldn't hear them. Clary nodded. "Yeah. She got home before the blizzard started."

Jonathan shrugged. "Not that I care," he said, a strange edge to his voice. He tossed the shiny golden wrapping paper aside as he opened his brand new Star Wars socks. "I just don't want her death on my conscience."

Clary rolled her eyes, catching a small parcel that Jonathan tossed to her. Not once had he and Izzy spoken while she'd hidden out in her room, keeping quiet and to herself, watching the TV on mute. It was probably better that way, she thought. It was better than them arguing and pulling each other's hair out. At least Jonathan had kept quiet and not given her away before she could slip through the front door the day before after hugging Clary and wishing her a Merry Christmas.

After all the presents were opened, thank-you's exchanged, Clary joined her father in the kitchen to assist in cooking the food they were to take over to the Herondale household at midday.

He was in a very good mood, Clary noticed. It had been three years since he'd worn his Christmas-themed chef's hat, yet here he was singing along to carols on the radio as he turned over the roasted potatoes and checked on the cooking turkey that the Herondale's couldn't cook due to their oven being too small.

"Dad!" Clary laughed, clamping her hands over her ears. "Stop! It hurts!"

Valentine frowned, turning to his daughter, one hand adjusting the hat perched atop his head. "What's that word teens use now?" he frowned, brows furrowing. Before Clary could say a word, his face cracked into a grin and he told her "YOLO!"

The sound of shooting from the next room stopped as Jonathan paused his game to yell, horror evident in his voice "did you just say YOLO?!"

"So what if I did?" Valentine called back reproachfully. "I'm still young."

A groan of disgust and the shooting resumed. Clary giggled, shaking her head slightly; her family was utterly and completely insane. And she loved them for exactly that reason.

As soon as the cooking was done, Valentine abandoned the kitchen and Clary took over. She'd always been the one to wash up and clean in general now her mother was gone. Tasks she didn't enjoy but had to do simply because no one else would; Jonathan shrunk clothes frequently in the washing and was notorious for leaving the damn toilet seat up; her father had once tried to clean said toilet with a bath sponge.

All in all, Clary had long since realised that she was the only one in this family that knew the difference between a toothbrush and a comb. And her father was supposed to be a teacher, a professional in his work.

oOoOo

Jace couldn't stop staring even now at the metal and plastic attached to his stump. It wasn't like he could stand on it yet, but it still didn't stop him from trying. What a surprise it had been when he'd found out he was the perfect candidate for immediate prosthesis fitting.

It was surprisingly painful, Jace found out the first time he'd tried it on and been helped to his feet, leaning heavily on the doctor's shoulder. But that was because he wasn't used to it yet, they told him. Also, this was not his final design, but one designed to prepare him for it. Jace prayed that the one made for him was much more comfortable than this lump.

Still, he felt good. Happy even. This was a gigantic leap towards a brighter future where he could walk without assistance. He longed for that day.

Jace's mother was in a distinctly grumpy mood, sat next to him upon the sofa with a jar of apple sauce in one hand, a spoon in the other. Her cravings were really starting to weird Jace out.

Stephen wasn't allowing her to stand in the kitchen and cook and she was far from pleased. She kept glaring in the direction of the kitchen, nose twitching as the divine smell of cooking wafted from it.

It wasn't like his father was a terrible cook, Jace thought. He was an excellent cook and his mother knew that. But still, it didn't stop her from calling every now and then to update her on how everything was going, protective over her roasting vegetables.

"Mom," Jace chuckled after the eleventh update, "chill. Dad knows how to cook."

"Toast and packet meals" Celine hissed, shoving a mouthful of apple sauce into her mouth. Jace grimaced, turning his gaze away from the revolting sight to check on the time; it was eleven already. They- she would be coming over soon. The thought made him strangely light-headed and giddy.

As if on cue, the doorbell rung and with surprising grace for someone pregnant, Celine flung herself up and was at the door before her husband could even close the oven door.

Jace's heart skipped a beat as he heard his mother exclaim "Clary dear! Is that the potatoes? Thank you sweetheart, I'll take them through to the kitchen. No- I can do it."

"Hey stranger" Jace called as his mother marched into the kitchen, door closing behind her to keep the heat in. He grinned at the face that appeared around the door-frame, a smile of her own upon her face. Clary was wearing a bright red Christmas sweater with a knitted picture of two bells, the words JINGLE MY BELLS below it. Jace cocked a brow and nodded to it as she stepped into the room. "Nice sweater (!) reminds me of how crap my sex life is right now. And probably will be for the rest of my life."

"Jonathan made me wear it" Clary told him in exasperation, plucking at it. "He won't give me my presents unless I do. But oh-" her eyes widened as they spied his leg. "Oh my god!" Clary laughed, grin widening, "you have two legs!"

"Kind of" Jace told her, pulling himself up into a sitting position. "They're making me wear this for now so I grow used to the sensation. Murders your back, I'll tell you that."

Eyes still wide, Clary asked in wonder "can you stand? This is amazing."

"Yes" Jace lied without thinking, hoping to impress her. "You'll have to help me up first though."

With a new smile, Clary started forwards and held out her hands for Jace to take, guiding him to his feet as he heaved himself up with a pained grunt, taking his crutch from next to the sofa.

He stood for the grand total of zero seconds. Clary staggered under Jace's weight as she caught him, grabbing his crutch before it tumbled to the floor. She giggled, holding him steady with her cheeks tinged pink. "I think you just fell for me."

"No," Jace said without thinking, straightening up awkwardly with his hand tight upon the walking aid. "I think I did that a while back."

Clary froze- did he mean-?

"And all in the oven ready!"

Jace jerked in shock, pulling Clary in closer by accident as his mother burst through the kitchen door, a wide smile on her face. The smile immediately froze as she clapped eyes upon the scene. She blinked twice and spluttered out "did I interrupt something-?"

"No!" Clary exclaimed, head spinning slightly. "Jace's footing went and I caught him." It wasn't a lie.

Clary thought she saw suspicion in the woman's eyes, but then it was gone as she scowled at her son who was strangely quiet. "You are not allowed to walk yet! Your body isn't ready! Sit, now."

After he was placed back upon the sofa by Clary, he avoided her eyes, a flush of red barely visible in his cheeks. Celine was oblivious to it, but Clary wasn't; she noticed it straight away.

"I guess I'll be back with the guys" Clary heard herself say as she turned to the woman. "The turkey should be done." She escaped the house so far she wondered if she was running.

oOoOo

After his mother sat back down next to him, Jace tried to ignore her occasional glances, but it was hard. After the seventh he asked quietly "yes?"

"Nothing sweetheart" Celine told him innocently, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. "Nothing at all."

Jace snorted, turning his head to face her. "You are a terrible liar." She was actually a very good liar, but not in this case. She shook her head, smiling sweetly. "Clary's a nice girl, isn't she?"

"Yes..." Jace replied, thoroughly suspicious.

"And she's helped you so much. You've really come out of your shell since you met her how long ago? Three months?"

Jace's eyes narrowed – was she suggesting what he thought she was?

"Mom-"

"No" she interrupted cheerfully. "She's just a very nice girl isn't she?"

Yep, Jace's suspicions were spot on. He groaned and rolled his eyes, expression forced blank. "Mom, please don't do this."

Celine smirked and Jace saw his own. It was one hell of a smirk. He'd always been proud of inheriting that feature directly from his mother. "Come now Jace" she said silkily, placing the empty apple sauce pot aside. "I'm your mother. I'm allowed to do this. And the best thing is, you can't run away. Literally."

"I could knock you out with the TV remote though" Jace told her, picking it up and wiggling it between his fingers threateningly. "And then escape while you're out of it."

"Your father would saw your other leg off with a butter knife if you did that, darling."

Unfortunately, she was right. Jace groaned heavily, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Lecture me for finding Clary attractive, whatever."

Celine giggled and ruffled her son's hair, giggling even harder when she saw his grumpy expression. "Actually, I was just going to say make sure you use protection with her," the woman told him.

Jace stared as if she'd suddenly grown another head. "That's it" he announced. "I'm forgetting dignity and dragging myself across the floor to get out of here. Goodbye cruel world."

"Oh, hush you" Celine tittered, slapping his arm lightly. "But isn't she... well, a little too young for you? Although..." her expression darkened. "That filth Aline... isn't she in her year?"

"I was a dumb idiot with Aline" Jace said through gritted teeth, embarrassment flooding through him. "And they're both almost nineteen. They're not young. You're making me feel like some pervert. They are both adults. I don't even know what you're insinuating anyway... Clary and I are just friends."

"Didn't look that way earlier. You were staring at her like the roles had been reversed; she was the dashing prince and you the damsel in distress she had just rescued."

Jace growled loudly. "Mother!"

"Fine, I'll stop!" she burst out laughing, smiling at her son in a way that made him feel like she was mentally planning his and Clary's non-existent wedding.

God give me strength, Jace thought as his mother started humming Jingle Bells.

oOoOo

Jace's words echoed through Clary's mind the rest of the morning. She even burned her wrist because she was so preoccupied in her thoughts.

"Clary-!" her father scowled as she very nearly dropped the bowl of home-made cranberry sauce onto the floor. "What is the matter with you?"

"Sorry" Clary hastily apologised, setting the bowl down onto the kitchen work surface. Valentine sighed and moved it away from her, ordering her to tell Jonathan to get ready.

Ten minutes later, the trio trudged through the snow and ice across to the Herondale residence laden down with food and presents.

Jace was still sat in his seat before the TV. He didn't even look up until Jonathan threw himself down next to him and sighed quietly "Christmas... so much fuss for one day, huh?"

He didn't even look from the TV as he replied "I like Christmas now."

Jonathan froze. "Fuck, sorry" he apologised. "This is your first Christmas at home in a while, yeah?"

Jace nodded, finally looking around to Jonathan whose cheeks were still tinged red from the cold outside, his snowy hair windswept. "Yeah. It's been a while. Not much for me to do here, of course" he shrugged, suddenly annoyed; normally at Christmas he would stay as far away from the events as possible, opting to stay in his room and get high. Now that he wanted to get involved, he couldn't. What a shit son I was, he thought as he glanced towards the kitchen. Never again.

"Oh" Jonathan suddenly said, "you have to try Clary's sauce. It's so delicious and creamy. There's nothing like it."

Keeping his face as straight as possible, Jace turned back to the TV. It wasn't like he could say that he'd taken the young man's innocent words as something far, far from that. Especially with him being her elder brother.

At least I know my dick works, Jace joked to himself as he adjusted his legs, pulling his jumper down discreetly to hide the boner that had decided to say Hello. But it wasn't easy, especially with how it refused to leave, growing every second as his thoughts still desperately clung to Clary in one hell of a compromising situation.

Just as he was about to fret about having to stand up at any moment to move to the table, the doorbell rang and he knew who it was. Like a switch, the boner-issue was gone as he realised who it would be. Her.

Jace didn't smile as his grandmother strolled into the living room, pressing her coat upon Stephen while saying loudly "I don't like the new wallpaper. It's shabby." A grimace and she also deposited her hat and scarf upon her son who was trying his best not to seem disgruntled.

Celine left the kitchen only to be greeted with "Celine, darling! That blouse looks extremely tight?"

Jace smirked as his mother ignored the insult and embraced the woman, her face far from happy even as she told her step-mother "it's so lovely to see you!"

And then it was Jace's turn. Imogen Herondale turned to her grandson and he stared at her; had she always been so lined, so grey and pale? The lines around her mouth seemed deeper than ever, her eyes still as cold as frozen steel.

"Dear, dear Jonathan" the woman sighed, slipping off her leather gloves. "You look awful. Have you been sleeping?"

Jace snorted in laughter. "Says you, you old bat. You look dead already."

"Jace-!" Celine exclaimed, eyes widen. "Mind your language!"

Imogen was far from fazed. "No, it's okay" she told her. "I was expecting him to return from war much more disciplined than this, though. The army is losing its touch. But then, Jonathan always was a hopeless case even when he was a child."

Jace hated her. Hated the woman. Nothing pleased her, made her smile. Could she smile? He couldn't remember a time when she had. Maybe she'd had Botox and it had gone wrong, freezing her face into that mask of disapproval for good.

Without another word, the woman moved off into the dining room. Jace ignored his mother's glares.

Jonathan let out a low whistle, cocking a pale brow. "And I thought my gran was a bitch. Have to say, I feel rather sorry for you."

"She's incredibly rich" Jace grimaced. "Owns all this property, business and whatever in New York. I don't even know why she comes over for Christmas, all she does is insult us. Insult our 'common way of living.'"

Jonathan snickered, crossing his ankles. "Still, you must get expensive presents?"

That was a joke, right? Jace let out a bark of laughter, grinning at the boy. "I've never gotten anything from her" he told Jonathan. "She doesn't 'believe in giving presents.'"

"I smell bullshit" Jonathan gagged out.

"Plus she hates my mother" Jace said bitterly. "She never even came to my parent's wedding, apparently. See, she had my dad all set up to marry this rich girl of her choosing and dad decided to run away with the girl with great ambitions to become a teacher he'd met just a week before the arranged marriage. They were married within the year and I was born before they were even twenty. Gran was far from happy." Jace smirked. "Apparently the scandal was top news. The rich boy runs off with a poor girl and settles down with her. Gran never gave him a penny after that, yet he still loves her somehow."

Jonathan paused, impressed. "That's kinda romantic, isn't it? Your father gave up the chance to be rich for your mother? He chose love over money?"

Jace shrugged, staring at the blank stretch of wall behind Jonathan. "I guess." He would forever be jealous of his parent's epic romance. Of their relationship and happiness, he was sure of it.

"It's embarrassing how my parents got together" Jonathan now laughed. "They used to be really big music festival fans. Dad left his car unlocked at one festival and mom got inside, totally drunk and high and fell asleep in the back. He drove all the way back to where he lived then without realising she was there. When mom woke up when he was pulling into the drive, she thought she was being kidnapped and tried to strangle dad, causing them to crash into a tree." He groaned in embarrassment. "Thankfully, that's all I know. And want to know."

Jace blinked hard, totally perplexed. "Your dad... was a hippie? Seriously? Him?"

Jonathan looked faintly sick. "Mom was too. I was conceived at a festival as dad used to tell me when I was younger to scar me for life. Clary too. We're hippie babies."

Clary couldn't believe her ears when she heard Jace and her brother roaring with laughter from the other room. Both she and Celine paused the setting of the table and turned at the same time in the direction of the living room at the sound.

"I haven't heard him laugh like that in years" Celine said faintly. "Good God, it's a Christmas miracle."

oOoOo

When the table was set and food laid out, everyone moved to the table. Jace sat next to Jonathan and Clary was amazed to watch the pair laugh and talk, their heads close together.

Clary however, was sat next to Imogen.

"Your hair colour reminds me of this cat I once had" the woman told her as she spooned mashed potatoes onto her plate. "Nasty little thing it was, impossible to tame. Had it put down."

Clary glowered at Jace and her brother who kept sending pointed looks and smirks her way when Imogen wasn't looking. When Jace's good leg strayed too close to her foot, she kicked him, and hard at that.

It was a very enjoyable affair, dinner with the Herondale's. Even with the unwelcome guest asking every five minutes if gingers really were horny all day every day.

Just as Clary was contemplating stabbing the woman with her fork, Celine rose to her feet and silence fell. She smiled, gazing down at them all. "A Merry Christmas to you all" she said, smile widening. "And I have some news to share. It's not obvious, what the news is." Celine took a deep breath. "It's a girl!"

Jonathan knocked over his glass of champagne in his haste to propose a toast. The table was a mess of congratulations and a 'I expect this child to have my name' that everyone ignored for a long time. It was only when Imogen cleared her throat that Valentine and Stephen finally stopped shaking hands to look at her.

"I have news of my own" she told them, her gaze travelling to Jace. He didn't like the way she was staring at him.

"As a welcome-back gift to Jonathan," she announced, "I have taken the liberty of purchasing him a fully furnished small home of his own. He will pay only when he can and for the food he eats."

The effect was instantaneous. Celine screamed "are you insane?! Him living alone right now?!"

"He is not a child" Imogen replied briskly. "He is a man, a celebrated soldier at that. Why does he not have his own home yet?"

"Mom-" Jace started, shock coursing through him, "don't-"

But it was too late. Celine swelled up like a balloon and snarled "Because he is disabled! He needs care!"

"Jace is not helpless!" Imogen retorted. "Stop babying him! This apartment is accessible to him."

The argument continued, oblivious to Jace climbing onto his feet and grabbing his crutch, shaking his head at Jonathan when he asked if he needed help. Clary escaped after him into the living room, closing the door behind her. It didn't erase the noise completely, but it muffled it enough.

"You okay?" Clary frowned, walking over to the sofa and sinking down next to him. Jace sighed heavily and nodded, gazing up at the ceiling. "I'm fine. They always end up arguing about something before the end of the day, it's nothing new. Last time I remember it was about how to cook potatoes."

Clary bit her bottom lip before asking cautiously "what about the... apartment?"

"I want it" Jace instantly admitted. There was no point in lying. "They need more space for the new baby and they know it. And as much as I love them, staying here isn't good for me. If I do, I'll stay shut up in my bedroom forever, I know it." A shadow crossed his face. "I don't know why Imogen is offering this though. It isn't like her."

Clary frowned. "She is still your grandmother. Maybe she's trying to be nice?"

"She doesn't do nice" Jace muttered, still staring at the same patch of ceiling. "Mom won't be happy, but I'm moving in as soon as possible. I don't need much help anymore, and the things I do need help with, I'll just deal with them. I was planning on moving out the moment I got my final leg, but quite frankly I had no idea how to do that. Mom would have stopped me at every corner."

"I'll visit every day?" Clary offered, a small smile twitching at her lips. "For help, a chat, anything. I don't mind."

Jace's head snapped to her so fast it hurt his neck. He frowned, gazing at her unblinkingly. "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do, idiot."

He didn't know what to say. Now she was comfortable around him, being her true cheery and fun self, Jace couldn't keep his eyes off her. A flush of red spread across Clary's cheeks as she told him "oh, I bought you something for Christmas, by the way-" she climbed to her feet and snagged a roll of creamy paper that was tied with a festive red bow. "I would have wrapped it but... what if you ripped it by accident?" she admitted, handing the tube to him.

Jace just stared at it, shaking his head after a long moment. "I didn't get you anything" he muttered, avoiding her eyes.

Clary snorted, pressing the tube into his hands so he was forced to take it. "Well it's hardly like you could go shopping right now. Just open it."

Feeling guilty, Jace undid the neat bow and set the ribbon aside, unrolling the paper.

It was sheet music. Sheet music for a piano at that.

"It's called Chasing the Sun" Clary explained, suddenly nervous, "by Sara Bareilles. It's the song I used to listen to when mom left. The song that I liked to listen to when I got sad, it kept me strong. I just thought... it might help you too. Especially since you want to start playing piano again."

Jace had no idea what to say. It was such a personal gift he couldn't stop staring at the elegance of the notes, his fingers itching to play it.

"Thank you Clary" he told her sincerely, meeting her eyes and smiling. It was a real smile, one that hurt his cheeks. Rare was the person that earned one of those from him. "Thank you so much."

Clary beamed. "You're very welcome."

As silence fell once more, Clary wanted to ask what Jace had meant this morning about falling for her. It couldn't be what she was thinking of, that Jace was falling in love with her. That would be ludicrous. She wasn't even sure what she felt for him herself; was it friendship or something more?

When the arguing in the dining room ceased, the pair returned. Dessert was a quiet affair with no one daring to say a word in fear of sparking another row. Imogen and Celine kept shooting the other glares, but kept their silence.

All too soon, the day was over and Clary hugged Jace goodbye before following her father and brother out of the house. Jace never noticed his parents arguing, too caught up in his thoughts about Clary Morgenstern. He shut himself up with his piano and set the still slightly curled sheet music before him, gazing at it for a long moment, the notes flowing together in his mind. Jace hummed the tune to himself, ghosting his fingers across the keys without touching them, trying to get the feel of the song. Only when he was sure he wouldn't butcher the song the first time he tried to play after two years did he start to press the keys.

oOoOo

Clary had an early night that night. She crashed and fell asleep at just eight in the evening, the light of Jace's bedroom across the road shining through the slits in her curtains.

At just gone three did she wake up, her throat dry, desperate for a drink. Through the darkness she felt her way down into the kitchen, the light of the fridge hurting her eyes as she opened it, snagging the milk and taking a swig directly from the bottle.

It was only when she'd closed the fridge, her eyes adjusted to the darkness that she noticed that the door of her father's study was open and the light was on. Clary sighed, bumping into the table only once as she walked over to the door and pushed it open, raising a hand to hit the switch. Her father always left the light on when he wandered up to bed half-asleep.

The room wasn't empty though. Clary stared with her hand still raised, inches from the switch at the sight of her father and the black-haired woman he had been locked at the lips with only moments before.

"Clary-" Valentine exclaimed, face draining of all colour. The woman that had been sat upon his knees, arms around his shoulders was on her feet now, staring at Clary with nothing short of horror in her eyes. And Clary recognized the woman.

Clary broke the silence by croaking out "you're... cheating on mom... with the fucking school receptionist?"

The woman sighed and pulled her t-shirt more onto her shoulder where it had slipped down. "Clary-"

"Shut up" Clary snapped, taking a step back into the kitchen with her head spinning. She banged into the table, causing it to scrape loudly as she tried to escape the room.

The light snapped on and Valentine called "Clary, wait!"

"No!" Clary yelled, spinning around with her eyes burning with furious tears. "How could you do that to mom?! You bastard! You dirty, cheating bastard! Our family is broken enough without you shoving your dick into a new woman behind the scenes!"

Valentine closed his eyes and sighed gently. "Clary... I need to talk to you. And it's going to be hard for you to hear, sweetheart."

Clary laughed wildly. "What? Come on, spit it out!"

"I am not cheating on your mother" Valentine told her sadly, "Because your mother is dead."

It was like time stopped for Clary. Everything faded to white, a loud buzzing starting up in her ears. She wasn't aware of Jonathan entering the room just in time to catch her as her legs gave way. It wasn't true, it couldn't be true. It couldn't.

Jonathan deposited Clary gently into a chair, hissing at his father "seriously?! You had to tell her right now?!"

That snapped Clary out of her spell. She looked up at Jonathan, the buzzing still loud inside her ears and body still numb. "You... knew-?"

Jonathan paled instantly and opened his mouth to reply but ended up closing it, choosing to just nod jerkily instead.

"Those letters, the emails" Clary realised, voice faint, "they weren't real."

"I'm sorry" Jonathan spluttered, his eyes wide in fear. "I'm sorry" he repeated, expression more than hopeless. He couldn't meet Clary's eyes. He'd hurt her so badly and he knew it. She would never speak to him again now.

Clary rose to her feet, body trembling slightly. She swayed before walking forwards, her head down towards the front door. She was aware of her father telling her not to do it, but she did anyway; she opened the door and dashed outside into the snow, her feet bare and dressed in just thin pyjamas.

It wasn't long before she was shivering violently, feet agonised with cold and whimpers of pain slipping from her lips. Pain at the cold or the news, she didn't know which.

Jace had once been a heavy sleeper, but that was before he'd gone to war. Now, from the experience, he slept lightly, the merest sound jolting him awake.

It was the rapping of small stones on his window that woke him up that night. He frowned and disentangled himself from the covers, leaning over to the curtains and dragging them aside. At the sight of Clary shaking in her pyjamas, looking lost and something else he couldn't place that terrified him, he leapt into action, grabbing his crutch and making for downstairs.

The moment the front door was opened, he exclaimed, angry at her stupidity "what are you doing-! It's below freezing and you're practically wearing nothing! You don't even have shoes on!"

Clary let out a sob and stepped inside, throwing her arms around Jace without a word. Taken aback, Jace glanced over to the Morgenstern household; he could see the house was ablaze with light and hear the faintest sound of shouting. Something had happened. Something bad.

After closing the door and regaining his balance, Jace asked gently "Clary, what happened?"

"She's dead!" she sobbed into Jace's bare chest, paying no attention whatsoever to his heavily scarred torso and arms that he couldn't bare to let people see from fear. He led her awkwardly into the living room and sat her down, switching the light on and grabbing blankets and throws to drape around her violently shaking body. Even her lips were starting to turn blue, and her feet were even worse.

Jace sat down next to her and captured Clary's face in his hands, turning her to face him. "Clary," he ordered, "you need to warm up, okay? You're beyond freezing right now. It's dangerous."

For fifteen minutes Jace sat there rubbing Clary as much as possible with the blankets, keeping her pressed against his warm chest. When at last the shivers gave away to a constant tremor caused by the silent sobs, he asked "what's happened?"

"Mom" Clary muttered bleakly into Jace's chest, twining her arms around him and hugging him tight. "Mom is dead. I don't... know how, but she's dead." She dissolved into tears once more, whimpering into Jace as she clung to him.

"Shh" Jace sighed, wrapping his arms around her, rubbing her back comfortingly. "Let it all out."

When the sobs finally turned into quiet hiccups, Jace heard her say something that he didn't quite catch. "What was that?"

"I said," Clary mumbled, her eyes closed, "what did you mean by saying you'd already fallen for me?"

Jace furrowed his brows. "That doesn't matter right now."

"It does" Clary said defiantly, pulling away and sitting up. Jace didn't like that crazed glint in her eyes. "You meant that you like me" she continued. "Well I like you too-" and without warning her lips crashed to Jace's own, utterly taking him aback. The salt of her tears was hot and wet upon her lips as she kissed him, manoeuvring herself so she was straddling his hips, knees either side of him. Clary's hands roved his chest as she kissed him, Jace's mind blank from shock and pleasure; he'd been secretly wondering all Christmas Day what it would be like to kiss Clary.

But the moment Clary's dainty hand brushed the front of his pyjama pants, he snapped back to reality and pulled away, pupils blown wide as he gasped out, her taste still fresh in his mind. "Stop. Stop this right now."

"Why?" Clary breathed, twining her arms around his neck and leaning down for another kiss. Jace grasped her shoulders and held her away, his chest heaving.

"You're not thinking straight" he told her, tightening his grip upon her in case she tried again.

"I don't want to think" Clary whined plaintively, trying in vain to pull away from Jace, but his grip was vice-like. "I don't want to think about anything tonight. I want you to make me forget, please?"

Realising just what she was asking of him, Jace laughed incredulously. "Clary, love, I'm not going to fuck you."

"But why not?" she complained, sagging in his grip. "Why? You're always complaining about your sex life. Just fuck me, please?"

He refused to argue with her. Jace let Clary go and told her tiredly "go to sleep."

Clary didn't make another move on him, her eyes dropping to the floor in embarrassment. "I'm sorry" she sniffed, climbing off him and wrapping the blankets more around her. "I'm sorry..."

"It's fine" Jace told her sadly, watching Clary lie down upon the sofa and curl up into a ball. As he was about to get up, he heard a soft voice ask "can you stay with me? Please?"

He couldn't refuse her. Without a word, Jace pulled himself up onto the sofa and Clary twisted around, crawled towards him and settled within his open arms, burrowing her face into his chest and allowing him to pull the covers over them. Jace rested his chin atop her head as he wound his arms around her and hugged her close.

A/N: Well I did promise you guys a long chapter and tada! Man that took longer than I thought it would. This chapter has been rewritten so many times it's unreal. I've been splitting my time writing my Harry Potter (Dramione) fic Flares and this. Flares should be updated pretty soon, yay. So... the cat is out of the bag! Poor Clary. Lots of hugs and cuddles for that poor girl. Anyway I hope you all had a fantastic New Year! It's 2015 now... that's insane!

Next chapter snippet.

"No" Jace snapped. "Clary is staying here with me. She doesn't want to see you, hear you or anything to do with you or your son anymore. She's heavily depressed, and it's all your fault. Now, if you don't get off my doorstep, I'm going to see how far I can ram this metal leg up your damn ass."

Go protective Jace! T hank you for all the lovely reviews, don't forget to drop some more! It only takes a few seconds after all.