A/N: Some of you will be happy to know that things start going somewhat uphill for Clace this chapter... :)
I own the plot and nothing more. Cassandra Clare owns The Mortal Instruments.
Jace couldn't even utter a word.
The little redhead he'd known for her band shirts and baggy clothes now looked like someone like Kaelie. Minus the makeup obviously, but he nearly didn't recognise her. The only thing that gave her away was the red wildfire cascading down her back and those grassy green eyes that always seemed to haunt him.
In this moment she looked mortified by his presence. "Jace-"
"I have your phone," he murmured, handing it to her limply. "I must have picked it up in Music. Sorry."
She took it from him slowly, horror flickering in her eyes. "Thank you, but you've come-"
"Clarissa, close the bloody door for fuck's sake!" a voice roared. "It's not summer!"
"Get out of here Jace, please!" Clary's eyes were desperate and frightened. "You're not safe here, just go before-"
"I think you and I both know you're the one at risk here." Jace's voice was firm which masked his concern. "This is your home. Why do you look like a prostitute?"
She flinched at his words as if he'd slapped her. "None of your business. Just leave." she retorted, closing the door. Jace decided to stick his foot in the gap to stop it. "I'm not going to leave you in a dangerous environment. Get a coat or something. You're coming with me."
"Stubborn asshole," she grumbled. "I hate to rain on your parade, but I'm not going anywhere. You can't force me around."
"I'll drag you kicking and screaming if I have to; you know I will." Jace replied.
She glared at him furiously but seemed a little bit calmer than the skittish girl she'd been earlier. "Where are you intending on taking me?"
"Isabelle's. She'll look after you and Jon and Val. She'll especially look after Val."
"Val's asleep. I'm not waking her up. Plus Jon will want to cover for me," Clary pointed out, folding her arms over her chest. "I know this sounds weird and probably a bit desperate considering my current state, but could I maybe stay at yours? Izzy's cool and all but I know you and your family better."
Jace was a little taken aback by her request but nodded. "That's fine. You might want to bring some spare clothes as I'm not exactly a girl."
"You could make it as one considering the amount of grooming you do," she remarked sourly. "Give me a few seconds. I'll need to let Jon know."
He dislodged his foot from the gap, but as Clary closed the door he noticed a flash of white on her left arm that looked suspiciously like a bandage. To why she had one he had no idea, but it clearly wasn't good whatever had happened.
She remerged from the house three minutes later in a black Thirty Seconds to Mars t-shirt, skinny denim jeans and plain white trainers. She carried a duffel bag over one shoulder. "Jon said he'd take Val in tomorrow and my school bag."
"Okay, we'll head off then," Jace informed her. "We could work on the English project?"
"Okay."
They both got in the car and Jace started the engine, glancing over at her. "I'm going to drop the subject tonight," he said softly. "but tomorrow I would like some answers."
She glared at him fiercely but had no argument.
The car journey back was in absolute silence and made things ten times as awkward.
After a brief explanation to Céline which Clary heard nothing of, Jace led her into the kitchen and gestured for her to sit down. "I'm first aid trained, so could I look at your arm?"
She clutched it in a protective way, scowling. "Why?" she asked sharply.
"If it was something that happened tonight I promise you I won't ask," he told her. "I would just like to see how it is to see if I could help."
With great reluctance she rested it on the kitchen table - much to Jace's relief - and he pulled up a chair with a first aid kit which he placed on the table. He pulled the safety pin holding the bandage together off as he carefully unravelled the white material to reveal a nasty gash that was still bleeding a bit. Jace let out a long whistle. "Sheeeesh, that must really sting. Did you clean it?"
"I just put a bandage on," she replied warily. "Is that bad?"
"Well it's good you've got it covered, but I'll clean it just to avoid infection. If it becomes infected you're screwed." Jace explained, shifting through the medical kit until he found a packet of antiseptic wipes. He tore open the packet and pulled out one wipe. "This'll hurt a bit."
He felt bad when she let out a wince of pain immediately when the wipe came in contact with the skin around the wound, but he carried on with cleaning the injury. He had no idea to how she'd done this, but he was a guy of his word. He didn't lie unless it was serious, so he wouldn't ask about the gash until tomorrow.
As he carried on, Clary suddenly grabbed his free hand and he froze in shock - not only that her tiny hand was like a block of ice against his, but at the gesture itself. He looked up at her with a smirk crossing his face and carried on, ignoring the fact she clutched tighter as the pain got to her more and more.
When he finished, he disregarded the wipe and fished out a roll of clean bandage from the kit. Clary let go of his hand as he bandaged her arm, taking care not to cause her much more pain. Once he'd finished the job, he cut off the excess bandage he didn't need and secured the end with the safety pin. "Ta-da."
Clary's usually pale cheeks were flushed a dark shade of red - probably from randomly grabbing his hand earlier. "Thanks."
"You look shattered." Jace suddenly found himself tucking a lock of red curl behind her ear. "Get some sleep, Little Red. You can take my bed."
She looked appalled. "No, that's your space."
"I insist. I'll take the sofa downstairs," he replied. "If you've got any problems you know where to find me."
Clary still looked reluctant but nodded hurriedly. "Umm, night then."
"Sleep well." he told her, though he mentally slapped himself for it once she'd plodded up the stairs. Why the hell was he acting so weird? It was just Clary who was repulsed by the very thought of him. Not some girl he'd brought home for a good time.
He took himself off to the living room, slipping his shirt off and recovering the colourful crochet blanket Céline kept for visitors who stayed the night, curling up in it on the sofa in hope he'd fall asleep soon.
"Mom! Wake up Mom, please!" Clary screamed, shaking the cold shoulders of her mother. No response.
"Mom!" Clary repeated with tears streaming down her cheeks. "You've gotta wake up!"
"I'm sorry, but she'll never wake up," an unfamiliar voice interjected, glancing at the clock above Jocelyn Morgenstern's bed. "Time of death; eight forty-six pm."
"No!"
The hospital scene suddenly begun to fade away and was replaced by a cold dusty room with no windows or doors. Clary was only in a camisole and shorts so she could feel goosebumps developing on her arms and legs, making her feel very uncomfortable as she folded her arms over her chest in some pathetic attempt to keep warm.
"It's all your fault," an all too familiar voice snarled. "It should have been you."
Valentine suddenly popped in front of her, a thundering expression on his face. Clary shrunk away. "Stay away from me!" she cried in an attempt to sound threatening.
"I'm sorry? Repeat that?" Valentine came closer to her with some sort of sick smirk developing. Clary opened her mouth to repeat it but she was silenced by him pushing her to the ground, launching himself on top of her as his hands lingered on her bare neck thoughtfully. "There's only one thing I can do, and that's to put you out of your misery."
His hands tightened on her neck, crushing her windpipe so she could do nothing but gasp for air as tears fell from her eyes. She was pinned down by his body so she couldn't even move in the slightest way.
As she got weaker and weaker, the light from her eyes begun to fade away slowly, allowing a sea of darkness to engulf her as she drowned in it, falling further and further until there was only a voice saying "Wake up!"
Clary's eyes flew open as she gasped for air, wheezing and coughing. She was sitting upright in Jace's bed with damp cheeks and a sore throat. Did I scream and cry out loud? she pondered as she tried to calm down from the trauma.
"That's it Little Red. Breathe easy. You're safe now."
Her eyes scanned the room and she spotted Jace beside her, an anxious look crossing his exhausted face. That confirmed she'd cried out in her sleep. Great. He must think I'm nuts.
"Hey." His gold eyes were bright, mingled with curiosity, worry and tiredness. "What's the matter? I was getting a glass of water when I heard you screaming. I smashed the glass which I'll have to explain, but oh-"
"Jace," Clary breathed, ignoring the fact she'd addressed him by his name rather than the usual. "I'm not okay."
"The screaming told me that-"
"No. I had a nightmare about my mom, okay? You know what happened to her."
It wasn't exactly the truth, but it was still true.
Jace was silenced for a moment, so Clary wiped her eyes and sighed as she glanced at the digital clock on his bedside table. 2:31. "Sorry I woke you."
"Don't be," he assured her quietly. "Are you okay to get back to sleep or do you want me to stay?"
She shrugged, falling back into the usual Clary routine. "It's your room, dumbass. You tell me."
"I'll stay then. Can't actually sleep on sofas that well anyway, my height continues to be a problem." He swung up onto the bed without any issues, but that was when she came to the realisation that he was shirtless, making her blush a bit. She wasn't used to seeing shirtless boys - Jon had always been wearing something whenever she saw him. Nonetheless, the artist in her was itching to grab a pencil and her sketchbook - no, her sketchbook was missing, it would have to be her A3 pad - and draw him like she'd done in the garden. Though at this time she felt rather naked in a camisole and shorts, so she pulled up the covers around her body.
"How's the arm?" he inquired.
"Stings like hell but okay," she told him. "Though I have broken my arm before so this isn't as bad as that."
He rose a suspicious eyebrow. "How'd you manage that, Little Red? Drop your sketchbook on it?"
"No, I fell out of a tree at my dad's friend's farm when I was six. We were all six once." Clary answered, welcoming an icy edge to her tone.
"Well when I was six I terrorised my gran's cat to the point my gran actually banned me from the house." Jace replied, assuming a superior air which just made Clary roll her eyes. "What did the cat do? Mess your hair up?"
"Like you said; we were all six once." He shot her a crooked grin and she groaned. God, he was just so damn irritating!
Even though he made her beyond aggravated, the two went back and forth in this little charade for about forty five minutes. Clary hadn't known him long at all, but talking to Jace in a casual manner like this put her in a state that for once wasn't stressed. With Jace, she simply felt chilled out and relaxed. It was nice.
Jace had been chuckling away at something Clary said when his gaze trailed to the clock, letting out a yawn. "3:09. We should probably shut up and sleep." he commented.
Clary nodded and huddled into the blankets, just as a question popped into her head about what Valentine had mentioned to her earlier. "Dumbass? Can I ask you something?"
He was standing by the foot of the bed running a hand through his tousled gold curls. "Go on." he urged her curiously.
"What happened to your dad? There are pictures but I've never seen him around."
His face remained unchanged. "Went to war. I haven't seen him since I was fourteen. Why do you ask? Wondering where I get my charm and good looks from?"
Clary scoffed. "What charm and good looks? I see nothing to support either."
"Ouch." Jace placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt, but turned away sharply to the makeshift bed he'd made quickly on the floor. Clary watched as he settled down and squeezed his eyes closed as if he was blocking out a nightmare. "I'll fight your nightmares off, don't worry." he mumbled groggily.
Clary raised an eyebrow. "How?"
He'd fallen into the abyss of sleep which just gave time for Clary to observe him for a short while. Jace was at his most vulnerable here - if she'd said something he wouldn't return it with a cocky or annoying comment. At the moment he didn't look like the boy who'd punched Raphael for her or had squabbled with her on countless occasions. No, he looked like the boy who'd refused to let her go hungry or had rescued her from the fire-breathing dragon that was her own father. Whether she believed it or not, she owned him. But what could she do for him? He was a popular with girls falling at his feet with a click of his fingers. She was a freak who couldn't get a guy if she tried. She couldn't afford to get too close to people, not after what happened last time.
With that in mind she drifted off herself.
Jace and Clary had gotten in the car a few minutes later than Jace would have liked, but hey, he'd still get them there on time.
As they pulled up in a parking space, Jace immediately spotted Jon waving at them from the entrance, but he didn't look overwhelmed at the sight of his little sister, nor the guy who'd saved her. Jace elbowed Clary as he turned the engine off. "Your brother looks thrilled to see you."
Clary paled. "Something's wrong. Very very wrong."
She leapt out of the car and zoomed away, so Jace followed her. He easily outran her, but that wasn't surprising.
Once they reached him, Clary froze in her tracks. "Jon! What happened?" she cried.
"Everything, Clare bear," he whispered, eyes sorrowful. "He phoned the cops on suspicion on kidnapping. There are officers in the school... they've come to get you, Jace. I'm sorry."
Clary kicked the ground angrily and screamed in frustration. "That bastard!"
"That's not all." Jon looked genuinely close to breaking down. "After you left he screamed at Val and he didn't let me comfort her. I checked in on her this morning and she was gone. Val's missing, and there's a storm coming."
Will Val be found? What will happen to Jace? Will Clary speak up? All answered next chapter!