Disclaimer: Do you think that anyone on this site is Cassandra Clare? I own none of her works or characters, and only the plot of this story.

Chapter Eleven

"Hey," Isabelle stammered as she stood on Simon Lewis' front porch. It was startlingly familiar, despite her only being there once before. Simon looked different as well. She had found out his name from Sebastian, of whom she had no idea why he had been in possession of a picture of Simon in the first place, but the point was; she was that much closer to knowing the potential father of her child. And that was what she needed to do. For the kid.

"Hi," his expression was priceless, shock and confusion evident on his deathly pale face.

"Are you Simon Lewis?" she asked, faux confidence in her voice. Inside, she just wanted to cringe and run away. But that wasn't who she was. Isabelle Lightwood wouldn't let a single conversation get the best of her.

"And you're Isabelle Lightwood." It wasn't a question. Isabelle nodded, not letting a drop of weakness fall into her façade of certainty.

"I'm sorry, can I come in?" she asked pointedly, not waiting for his response before stepping forward.

"Of course," he said, stepping aside so that she could pass, his face toning a flaming shade of burgundy for whatever reason. She ignored this and stepped into the hallway.

"Nice house. Cute," she noted distractedly.

"Thanks."

Isabelle felt sick to her stomach. She hated small talk.

"Let's stop the small talk and cut straight to business, shall we?" she asked, but before Simon could respond, a girl floated out of his bedroom.

"Si? Who was at the door?" she asked. Isabelle's eyes immediately scanned the girl from head to tone.

She was pretty. Coffee coloured skin, dark hair that was tied into numerous braids…

"Isabelle, this is my friend Maia. Mays, this is Isabelle Lightwood," Simon awkwardly introduced.

"Oh." The realisation was clear on Maia's features, despite Isabelle and her meeting had been non-existent until now.

"Sorry for my intrusion of privacy, but are you two dating? Because it would be very inopportune for our child to have more than two different parents," Isabelle blurted out, trying to sound professional and not let measly feelings crack through the persona that she had taken on at a split second decision.

Surprise filled both teen's faces.

"Child?" Simon spluttered. He seemed incredibly confused, of which Isabelle couldn't entirely blame him for.

"Yes. When two people sleep together without the use of proper protection, there is a significant chance that one will become pregnant. And that has happened. By the angel, please don't tell me that I had sex with an imbecile."

By this point, Maia looked like she wanted to break into song. She was greatly enjoying her friend's discomfort.

"Oh, I love you for this," she said between her laughter.

Simon did not seem to be enjoying the experience as much.

"Are you- you're not making this up. This isn't a prank?" he asked nervously.

"It is not. Don't feel embarrassed. I had a worse reaction. But… we need to talk about a few things. Why don't we have a seat?" she asked cordially.

"I think that's a good idea."

Clary's face burned as the woman's hawk-like eyes scanning her face sceptically, not seeming impressed. She felt guilty as a surge of relief flowed through her when the woman passed on to inspect Cecily. Her eyes subconsciously met with Jace's, from across the room.

Her breath caught in her throat as her green stared into his molten gold. He strode over to her and for some reason; her heart began beating harder than it had that time she had done cross country in elementary school.

"The rejects stand over there. Here, I'll let your dreams come true and escort you to the loser pile," he said, grabbing her arm, only to have it snatched back in the timespan of a fraction of a second.

"I have two legs; I can walk thanks. I don't need you to pull me along and strain your non-existent muscles," she remarked defensively. Jace snorted.

"Non-existent? Please. You'd love for a chance to see these muscles. You are smitten by me with a single glance your way," he said dramatically, as if in a romance novel or something of the kind.

She had to hold back a snort.

"As if."

She didn't admit to herself that it was kind of right.

"Don't deny it, Clare Bear. You know you love me."

"Keep on telling yourself that," she responded, patting his arm.

"Oh, I will, Clare Bear. I will until my dying day. That's how much I love you-" at this, Clary nearly burst into laughter.

"You are so weird."

"I take it as a compliment."

"Anyway, can you please tell me who that woman is?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at the tall fifty or so year old, of whom was dressed in an obsolete fur jacket with a string of pearls hanging around her neck.

"That one will do." The words echoed clearly; a quick slice in the atmosphere in the room. Shoulders sagged with relief. But it was Isabelle's croak of horror that caught Clary's attention.

"Some old witch who is hauling Max Lightwood away on her broomstick."

And it was true. Alec looked like he wanted to punch something, and Isabelle seemed to want to smash the woman's whole head in her palm. But it was true; Max Lightwood was being adopted. The only problem was, it wasn't with his siblings.

Gabriel Lightwood groaned as the taxi pulled up at the church-like building. Just the name of the place made him cringe. The Institute? He supposed that was code for 'most hellish place on earth.' Okay, maybe that was a bit drastic, but this was the sixth orphanage in two years. They were going to be sent her the time before last, but they had been full. And it seemed that someone had been taken away or adopted, so they now had room for the two. It was safe to say that he was sick of this routine by now. Sick and tired of it.

Gideon flicked his brother on the arm from the seat next to him. "You nervous?" he asked as they shrugged out of the stereotypical yellow taxi. He smiled graciously at the driver, of whom was looking the other way as he grabbed their small suitcases from the trunk.

"Please. I've done this five times before. I stopped being nervous the third time around."

Gabriel did, however, swallow down a gulp of anxiousness as he faced the grand architecture. Gideon snorted, but besides that, didn't respond.

"Let's go on, then." He pushed his little brother up the steps.

"Hello! You must be Gideon and Gabriel. Come in, come in. I'm Charlotte Branwell."

"Here we go again," Gabriel sighed to himself.

Hey! Two chapters in one day! Almost makes up for the months that I have missed in updating. Thanks for all you super fans who have reviewed/favourited/followed this fic, and I hope you enjoyed. Now... you know what would mean a lot to me? Pressing that button down there (it may or not be labelled 'review,') and leaving a short message. What can I say; I'm lonely.