Hello,

This took so long :(

Well, quite embarrassingly I got very neglectful with this story and managed to lose the work I had been writing in the fanfic doc manager! I also gained access to an expansive online library, and my partner treated me to Lady Midnight (~swoons~) so I've been busy obsessively reading and re-watching past seasons of The Walking Dead!

I also confused myself with where the chapter was heading, previously I was using my laptop, and I had a huge word doc with all of the story in it, so I could read over the last chapters before continuing, but when I went on to using the doc manager on the fan fiction website, with my phone, it became harder to check on my past work.

So, I'm starting this chapter over again, thankfully I was given a tablet for Christmas, and it therefore gives me a better platform to work from (as I have a word processor&can save my work & I can type away without having to wait for a computer to load.) n.n

Thankyou for the continued views, I hope you like my take on 's story!


Her mind swam. Maybe, with all the secret training and studying within the Institute, the mess within her mind, had somehow began to organise itself; but now these questions were itching to be answered; she had to find out how her blessed Mundane, Simon fit into this new life; and how the heck she was going to wipe the smug grin from Jace's face.

With the remnants of a burning sensation, just leaving her shoulder, and the dissipating pressure easing over her brow, Clary knew that without that recently adorned Iratze, she would have the mother of all headaches right now. Trying not to be thankful toward her tormentor for the current relief she was now feeling; Clary took herself from her bay within the infirmary, she could now see the familiar shape of Simon, heaped on a bed within a bay several away from her own, but she recognised the way his chest rose and fell, as his typical deep sleep, curious to try and see what they were treating him for, she approached Jace, Hodge and Isabelle where they stood surrounding the bedside.

On close inspection, Clary could see that Simon was indeed sleeping well, so well he'd scared the Shadowhunters, a race of people accustomed to rising from their beds, at the slightest sound of danger. Within hushed voices Clary could hear Hodge asking Jace to repeat his recollection of knocking Simon out, Isabelle's immediate defence of his actions, and the fact that they'd tried all the rousing herbs they had available,without success. Clary made a mental note to tell Simon this, within the first moment she got alone with him. It was hilarious to see the 'super race' so alarmed about a person's ability to sleep!

Satisfied with Simon's status, Clary wandered off in the direction of her room, she intended to take a shower and find a change of clothes; interestingly enough this was finally the point at which she noticed that her recently acquired holey parka, hat and scarf along with her satchel of personal belongings were now waylaid, the thought of what had happened to them (or herself in their removal) sent another shiver down her spine and she soon hurried on with her business.

Having scrubbed her skin a satisfactory shade of pink, in the attempt to erase any trace of Jace and his accomplices' touch, Clary tried searching around her room for the items in question, maybe everyone had noticed the bits she'd picked up from around the Institute and had taken them back? The thought amused her, if only for a split second. Spotting an oddly placed pile on her desk by the window, she inspected it more closely and found the items she'd grabbed from her home yesterday stored neatly at one side. The fact they were placed there in such a fashion obviously meant that someone had gone through her stuff, she was so severely creeped out now. Did this mean she could have no privacy? She couldn't leave the Institute without being followed; she couldn't keep in contact with her friends; and she couldn't have any belongings of her own, without inspection, what the hell was up with this place?

Adding this to the growing list of things she had to work out, Clary tried taking a moment to collect herself. Sinking into her desk's chair, she reached out to her pile of stuff in search of something as important as her phone had once been, moving books, drawings and art supplies aside, she finally came across a heavy and glossed piece of paper, containing the image of her Mother. Finally getting to have another look at her Mother, for the first time in months, Clary began to search Jocelyn Fray's face for any hint of the life they'd hidden from. Within Jocelyn's curved mouth, she could now see a sterness that stopped the smile from forming fully, the glint within the eye no longer conveyed happiness, but an astuteness Clary had never really paid attention to before, but now she could see it within the memories she did have a solid grip upon. Her Mother's glances around a restaurant they had just sat down in when visiting another town; the need to get away to the middle of nowhere whenever Jocelyn could take Clary, so that she could get a break; her Mother exhausted and yet unable to get to sleep at a normal time, as Clary had often heard her Mother tottering around their home at 3am. Clary had returned home, searching for an answer as to why her Mother had left the Shadow world behind, and yet all she came away with, were more questions and her best friend now at the mercy of the people who had made her new life, hell.

Clary became restless; there were too many questions piling down on top of her, and with that came too much stress for one short, redhead to deal with at this young, of an age. Maybe this was why all her fellow teenage, Shadowhunters were always so angry and irritable? Stroking the cheek of her Mother's photograph one last time, as she set it down amongst her things, Clary headed off to the one place she knew would help. Seeing as it was going to be freely accessible to her now, she no longer needed to hide her love of training. This was by no means, doing what Jace Wayland told her to do, as of that moment, she needed nothing more than to get her sweat on, in order to burn these over-bearing emotions and stress to mere memory.

Going to the small wardrobe beside her desk, Clary opened the door to find her comfortable black treggings, and baseball tee (so nicely provided to her by the Institute). Pairing them with the only shoes she currently owned, a pair of calf height Docs, she quickly pulled on her ensemble and headed out to the top floor of the Institute, naturally she was going to use her hidden passageways to get there, even if she was free to go as and when she wanted to from this point on, Clary still wanted to avoid the hate likely to be thrown at her from the others, once they found out Hodge's plan for tomorrow.

Making it to the attic in record time, Clary congratulated herself, as she begun limbering up for the work she was about to put in. As she slowly reached forwards across the floor to do her thoracic extensions, stretching the newly defined muscles of her back, Clary considered what she wanted to practice; either one of her weakest points, balance training or aiming at distance, were going to be strengthened today, she just had to decide what scared her less, climbing up on to the beams well above her head, or picking up the throwing knives again. She couldn't decide which would provide less embarrassment if she couldn't do well at either task, when in front of Wayland and company, but knew that she'd need her balance training to prevent her own death. (She cared little if a throwing knife accidentally hit one of her tormentors.)

Going over to an alcove near to the back corner of the training room, Clary picked up a pair of climbing gloves, took off her boots for better grip, and readied herself to haul up the rope dangling from the balance beam, above the middle of the room. Being short seemed to put you at more of a disadvantage, there seemed to be more of a climb, and it took ten minutes for her to feel the smooth edge of the beam. Pulling her torso up over it, before placing her legs either side, Clary caught her breath. This was one of the main reasons for her focusing her strength training upon her back and torso, core strength equated to improved balance and she was hoping she wouldn't need the mats several feet below her today, without a stele of her own it would hurt, a lot; her Shadowhunter blood could only protect her so much.

Sweating, gasping for air, and at the end of her nerves, Clary finally sat herself back down. She hadn't been doing anything extraordinary but it still sapped the energy from you, some of her stress was now gone and she hadn't killed herself yet, so Clary counted it as a good bit of training. Just as she was shuffling towards the end of the beam to get back down, the training room door opened; she lay flat on the beam, keeping a tight hold of it with both her arms and legs.

Enter Jace and Alec, talking loudly and being as obnoxious as ever. But Clary didn't know what to do, she didn't want Jace to think she'd listened when he told her to get more practice, and she definitely didn't want them to see her sweating so much from one session on the beam. But she kind of wanted to show off her gymnastics, and dismount from the beam in a diving-roll, right in front of them. (Don't ask how she practiced that one.) Because she knows she has taught herself to be a freaking bad-ass; the fact still remained that she did not own a stele and would therefore need their help if anything went wrong, Clary was certain that would be even more embarrassing.

Deciding on the lesser of two evils, Clary shuffled along the rest of the beam to slide down the rope. Wrapping the rope around her hand several times, Clary then swung one of her legs around to do the same with her ankle, at this point she finally let go of the beam and started her descent, it was easier than the climb up, but still allowed for mistakes to happen, and happen they did. About half way down the rope Clary's hand and ankle both came loose from the rope and her other hand couldn't grab hold of the rope in time; she was now free-falling. Closing her eyes preparing for the impact, Clary came into contact with a hard surface even sooner than she was expecting, but she felt very little pain.

Slowly opening her eyes, Clary came under fire from a golden glare. She was currently on the floor in the arms of an irrate Jace.

"What was that?" He seethed. "Do you think that's a display of how ready for training you are! This is ridiculous! Come on, get off me already." Jace shoved her out of his arms and took Alec's hand to get back to his feet.

"I've voiced my opinion about this several times, and this is exactly what I was talking about Jace. We shouldn't have to listen to that crazy fool, as the future head of this Institute I should be able to call the shots - and they would definitely not include allowing a Mundane to train with us." Alec's hatred oozed from him in waves. "If we allow this farce to continue any longer more of the real Shadowhunters will get injured trying to save this one." He snarled as he stabbed his finger in Clary's direction.

Still in shock from her accident, she sat on the ground frozen in place.