A/N: Did I say later this evening? Because, surprise (!) I meant like an hour after the last chapter. Hopefully now my garbage summary is beginning to make a bit more sense... :D A little more Clace (because there's always room for a little more Clace)

Chapter 12

CLARY POV

"What," he began, voice low and deadly, with an edge of raw concern, "happened." He scanned the room, almost hopeful. "Do I have to stab someone?" Coming from anyone else's boyfriend than Clary's this would seem like a joke. But Jace had fire in his eyes, which said that whoever had cut her wasn't going to get a strike two. She shivered. She was freezing, even in the bed with the blankets pulled around her like a cocoon. She tried to ignore the fact that she was probably dirtying them with her blood- it was too late for such concerns. The cut, while not particularly deep, had certainly served it's purpose. For the first time since she had been attacked by the demon, she was scared. Terrified. And she wasn't even sure how to explain it.

"Stabbing someone would be a bit counterproductive," she said, intending her voice to sound casual, but failing and landing on forced. "seeing as I'm the problem." Jace's eyes darkened, and he moved back over to the bed, resting on the end of it, eyes drawn to the red splotches in several places. He didn't really calm down, only seemed to center his chaos, and his eyes still burned as he gazed back at her questioningly.

Clary sighed, and glanced down at her stomach before continuing. The angry wound had faded into a shallow cut, but still stung as she sat up slightly. Unlike her dream, the fabric of her shirt hadn't been ripped, only streaked with blood where it had bled through. She longed to shed it, to fall back asleep in Jace's arms, but she knew she wouldn't be sleeping peacefully for a long time. Jace was still staring bleakly at her when she glanced back up, his mouth carefully closed. A muscle jumped in his neck, and he seemed almost perched on the edge of the bed, balanced delicately as if ready to take flight if necessary. But he had stopped searching the room for threats and began silently examining her. As the seconds passed, his eyebrows knit together.

"I was having this… dream. A nightmare. I was back in that warehouse, with that demon. But it didn't feel like a nightmare, Jace. I remembered the fight earlier that day, I remembered waking up, and I remembered falling asleep. And just as I was thinking that- that it was a dream, it wasn't real- the demon spoke to me. In my mind, like a Silent Brother," she swallowed, shuddering slightly at the memory of the demon's voice, cold and grating in her mind.

"And none of this is totally outside of the realm of possibility for a nightmare, I know. But he said that he was real, and he could prove it to me. And he reached out, and he… cut me, on the stomach." Jace's eyes darkened with growing realization.

Clary cleared her throat once more, her voice coming out quite small against her will.

"And he said we'd meet again."

Jace sat frozen for a moment, as if concentrating. Then he hung his head, and Clary remembered for a moment that despite all his stamina and his strength, he was exhausted. Drained. From the demon battle, and from the emotions that he fought with constantly. Her heart contracted, knowing that the dark circles under his eyes were because of her. If she could, she would let him sleep until morning. But she knew that he wouldn't rest until they figured out what was wrong with her. Her warrior. Her Jace.

But how do you fight a nightmare? Clary thought hopelessly, and she knew Jace's mind was in the same place. Knowing it would prove fruitless, she reached out, caressing his face and pleading, lifting his eyes to hers.

"You could go back to sleep," she whispered. "We could deal with this in the morning. Please, you're exhausted."

Jace's eyes grew colder, and he huffed a short laugh. "You think I'm exhausted." he muttered flatly. "And you died today."

"They say it's a lot like falling asleep." Clary replied, trying to lighten things up. But seeing the way he flinched when she said it, her tone grew more serious. "Jace. Whatever it is, there's nothing you can do right now, so please get some sleep."

Jace seemed to be shaking slightly. "I know there's nothing I can do." he said, voice tremoring quietly. "I'm just so sick of not being able to do anything. Sitting here while you get hurt, and being unable to help you." Clary inched forward, taking his face in both of her hands, and he let her, closing his eyes. His skin was warm, warmer than her hands, but he didn't flinch at the contact. "I'm not sure if I can take much more of it. It's torture." And this, too, was torture, the same torture, because there was nothing she could say to comfort him, no apology he would accept.

He opened his eyes then, taking her hands in his. "And I know what you're going to say, so don't even try to apologize. This isn't in any way your fault. I just wish it wasn't happening." he sighed, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. "Time to find Magnus." he stated, matter of factly, all evidence of his recent vulnerability vanished. "It would seem we have a demon problem."