Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments characters.

THIS STORY, I HAVE DECIDED, WILL UPLOAD AT WHATEVER TIME ON FRIDAY, SATURDAY, OR SUNDAY.

WORD COUNT: 2096

CHAPTER NINE: THE POWER OF THREE

Clary rounds the corner and stalks towards the bathroom across the hall. She practically breaks the door in. Thankfully, no one else is inside. She shuts the door quickly behind her and flips the lock. The bathroom is similar to one you would see in a gym locker room: there are lockers with girls' names on each one and several showers towards the back. One wall is lined with sinks and the other with bathroom stalls. She walks the length of the entire mirror, which stretches from one wall to the other. She finds it immediately. A devilish grin spreads across its face.

"Well hello, hello," it says in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Long time no see, crony."

"What are you doing here?" Clary whispers, voice hard.

"I could feel you ache for me," It pouts.

"I don't ache for anyone," she snarls.

It grins maliciously. "I'm like an addiction, baby."

"Why does it sound like you're flirting with me?"

"Sometimes, a more appropriate question is not 'why?' but 'why not?'" Its grin turns into a sympathetic smile. "I'm not kidding, you know. It's an addiction. I'm an addiction. It can't be understood. In its exterior it is simplistic; in its interior it is complex. It's something that can't be understood by those outside it because they don't know . . . All those outside it can only see just how it will break you. But they can't see . . . they can't see how good it feels. The stages are easy to know when you can follow me.

"You were aching for me, Clary. For my company. It's a whole fucking cycle. You say I drive you crazy, yet here I am. I told you once before that you're the one that brings me here, not me. I am proof of your insanity, yet you call for me. Have you ever wondered why?"

Clary feels a tear escape the corner of her eye. She nods numbly. "It's because I'm the only one who understands you. I get it. You see me because of your father, and your mother. Hell, maybe even your brother. You're not a typical case when it comes to abusive families, you know. It's much more different than the others, god, because he killed your mother, didn't he? And in a way, your brother too."

Clary trembles. "Stop it," her voice is hoarse.

"I can see from the scars on your legs and on your arms that you tried to find a way out too, huh? Those damn doctors don't know that by keeping you alive is killing you. That's what they call cruel irony. Tell me I don't know you better than anybody else."

Clary ducks her head down. Her hands are shaking.

"Has he even noticed the scars? If he did, why didn't he say anything? Maybe he's just another one who'll throw you away? Aren't you scared?"

She shuts her eyes. "I said stop."

She can practically feel its grin. "Right, because, 'you walk like the world has passed over you,'" it mocks. "And, 'you need light.' Gosh, that little girl was quite something, wasn't she? But don't get all freaked out over it; she has this uncanny ability to see right through people."

Clary opens one eye. "And how would you know that?" She whispers breathlessly.

It cocks its head. "She's got her own demons. Everyone does; some people are just lucky enough not to awaken theirs. Your boyfriend even has his own. Though, it's more like his conscience. You know, like the angel-devil-on-the-shoulders concept," it pauses. "He's cute, you know. Have you had sex with him yet?"

"What? No! What is wrong with you?"

It shrugs nonchalantly. "You should. You know, since your pasts are intertwined and what not," it giggles.

She freezes. "Excuse me?"

It snaps its fingers. "That's right—you haven't gotten that far yet."

She clenches her hands into fists. "What did you mean when you said our pasts are intertwined?"

It rolls its demonic eyes. "Your father was there the night his family's beach house burned down."

She narrows her eyes. "What?"

It sighs heavily. "Your father pulled your hunk of man meat out of the flames. Without precious Daddy, your golden deity would be dead right now."

She flinches at its words, squeezes her eyes shut. "But that doesn't . . . How was he there?"

"Well," it begins as it holds up its hands, examining its nails. "Turns out you all lived in the same neighborhood."

"So," She breathesout, "after all the things he did to me and Jon and Mom . . ."

A smile creeps onto its face. "That's right," it coos. "He killed your mother, but saved the boy."

"No . . . No, I don't believe you!" She turns on the hot water on the first sink and then the second and the next one until she reach the other wall. All of the faucets are spewing boiling water and soon her reflection is blurred and she can't see it.

The lights begin flickering and although Clary is indoors, the wind picks up. "You're pathetic!" Its voice booms all around her and she covers her ears as she fall to the floor, squeezing her eyes shut. "You think you can shut me out? You remember that night perfectly! After she died, he left the house for a while—you know that! The subdivision's local news was on with breaking news of a house fire! You can't run from the truth!"

Clary realizes it's telling the truth. But why would he save Jace? Did he think things would be okay if he saved a life right after he took one? Did he think he would be redeemed?

"Valentine would never do that!" She shouts at it.

"You never did call him your father, did you?" Clary shakes her head. "Well, then I believe—"

It's interrupted when a knock it hears a knock on the door. The lights flick back to normal and the winds die down. "Clary?" A tentative voice calls—the nurse, Lucy. "Are you alright? You've been in there for a while now." The door shakes. "Why is this locked? Clary, open this door!"

She quickly stands up from her place on the floor. She turns off the sinks one by one as she makes her way across the room. Standing at the door, she unlocks it and open it. Outside, a line of small girls has formed, presumably for the restroom. She quickly steps out of the bathroom and gives Lucy a tight lipped smile.

"Jace wanted to see you in the courtyard," she tells her.

Clary gives her a curt nod and sidesteps her. She makes her way back toward Jace in the courtyard. When she gets there, she sees him sitting in front of Celine, holding her hands and talking to her quietly. They both have got a smile on their faces. The scene warms her heart. She scuffles towards them slowly.

When she hears her, Celine tugs on Jace's arm. Jace turns his head to face me, bright and happy and beautiful. He stands, pulling Celine up with him. He swings her up in his arms and carries her on his hip as he approaches Clary.

"Hey," he says with a smile. "I want to thank you for convincing me to come and find her. This day has been . . . amazing." His bright smile is enough to make her laugh.

"Anything for family," Clary tells him with a sad smile.

This makes his grin wan a bit. "Yeah, so . . ." he clears his throat and adjusts Celine. "Hey, do you wanna say hi?" he asks her.

She buries her face into his shoulder and offers a weak hello. "She's beautiful," Clary offers weakly.

Jace's smile brightens again. "I know. Just like Mom. She has her eyes." He brushes Celine's hair out of her eyes.

And they spend the rest of the day like this. Talking and laughing and Jace telling Celine all about their parents. She warms up to Clary eventually, and even holds her hand with the one that's not holding Jace's to let her know where she is at all times. A lot of the times she can only focus on how alive Jace seems with his sister, and vice versa. She guesses opposites really do attract, although it blows her mind how someone as pure and genuine as him, would choose someone as cruel and ill as her to run away with. His soul is full of beauty and strength, and his eyes are as bright as the sun, they are full of warmth when he looks at Celine and it melts Clary's heart. Yet, her soul is grotesque and weak, her brain is closed-minded, and her eyes are as cold as her heart, and she can't understand his attraction to her—if there's any at all.

Way too soon, Lucy finds them and tells them visiting hours are over. They're sitting in her room. She practices her braille by reading to them.

Lucy says, "Sorry guys, time to go."

Celine's chin trembles; Clary doubts she's ever had any visitors, much less any family. Jace comfortingly places a hand on her head and begins stroking her hair soothingly. "We have to go now?"

Lucy sighs exasperatedly. "Yes, Jace. Now."

Tears form in Celine's eyes. Jace kisses her temple and whispers something in her ear. He stands up slowly, letting her know he'll be right back. Clary stands with him and follow him towards Lucy. He says, "Can I speak to you outside?"

Lucy crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. She stalks out of the room and Jace glances at Clary. She shrugs and follows her out. Jace closes the door quietly behind him. "Lucy," he begins slowly. "Is there any way I can convince you to let me stay just until she falls asleep?"

She sighs. "I don't know . . ."

Clary speaks up. "Have you ever seen her as happy as she was today?"

Clary can see her eyes softening and she knows she's got her. "No . . . I suppose you can stay, only—" Jace lets out a whoop of joy, "—only until she falls asleep. Then you can come back anytime."

Jace nods slowly. Clary can see the wheels in his head turning. "I was also wondering . . . I'm almost eighteen, a legal adult . . . I was wondering if there was any way I could, you know, get her out of here?" He wrings his hands as he says this.

Lucy's eyes widen. "Jace, in order to 'get her out of here,' as you so eloquently put it, you'd have to adopt her, after you've turned eighteen. And before you adopt her, we have to make sure you're responsible enough—" Jace opens up his mouth to speak, but Lucy silences him. "Meaning, that you have the money, insurance, a safe home, and so on. We would also need to make sure the environment is safe for her, and given her . . . disabilities . . . she'd need a special school and special treatment and we would need to make sure you can afford that and handle that.

"I would suggest leaving her here at Mercy for a few more years until you are absolutely sure about this."

Jace's hands clench into fists. "I am sure. I can handle it!"

"Jace—" Lucy begins. "You're not ready. I know you aren't."

Jace seethes. His voice is dangerously low. "You don't know shit."

Clary places a hand on Jace's arm. His head whips towards her, eyes are glowing with ferocity. They slowly soften as he meets her eyes. "Let's go," Clary say quietly, nodding toward Celine's room.

He nods. "Right." He turns back toward Lucy. "We'll talk about this again later."

Clary doesn't see the woman's expression as she leads Jace back to Celine, who waits patiently for them, still reading her book quietly to herself.

SO! This would have been up a lot sooner, but unfortunately I had a shit ton of things to do, and when I got home, it was late and a snow storm hit us hard, leaving me Internet-less for several hours. It's a good thing I like to read.

Reviews and suggestions make me happy!