So, last chapter and where it takes place on the time table was a little confusing: Clary was NOT crying because of what Jordan did because the event took place about a week later. I should've mentioned that — and I went back and did mention it to prevent further weirdness — and I'm sorry that I didn't even think to add that little tidbit earlier. Your imagination can run wild now, though, because if JORDAN didn't cause the outburst, then what or who did?(; (The winky face is so creepy.)

Jace

I'd offered to take Clary home once she'd calmed down enough — because screw class — but she'd surprisingly-unsurprisingly denied, shaking her head vehemently as her hands had futily rubbed the remainder of her tears away. "I'll just go to the office," Clary had insisted, stepping back from my hold on her, causing my arms to drop back down to my sides. "Really, I'm fine."

I hadn't wanted that just to be it; I knew that if I had relented and turned my back yet again, she'd never open up about what was really wrong, about what was practically crushing her shoulders with its weight and removing the complexity that very well made her human. She would only grow more sickly pale, more thin and gaunt, more withdrawn. The underside of her chin was a darker shade than the rest of her face, looking scarily alike another bruise, but I didn't care to comment. My eyes saught out evidence on their own accord because something buried inside me was adamant that I help her, and the pounds that dropped, the bruises that collected, the bones that stood out against the thin fabric of her uniform tethered me to that. To her.

"You're not fine," I'd said, my brows furrowed as I'd stared harshly at her. "You're obviously not fine, Clary. I've noticed it for a long time now — and what happened back in class, that was just the tip of the iceberg. Don't tell me you're fine."

Her eyes had then averted to the ceiling and she bobbed her head ever so slightly. When she cared to look at me once more, glossy and broken green irises rendered me silent. "You wouldn't know anything, Jace," she'd said, her voice half a tick off from being hostile. She'd sucked in a ragged breath, as if preventing herself from falling apart all over again. "It's just been a hard day. That's it. Okay?" She'd sounded exhausted.

"No, not 'okay.' Tell me what's going on, Clary, so that I can help you. I want to help you — "

"There's nothing to help! Everytime you look at me, it's with that..." she'd trailed off, puzzling herself to find the right words, "concern and pity and I don't want that. I don't want any of that. What even am I to you? A case study? Do you think I'm some unstable freak that you can use as penance and help for whatever it is you've done wrong? News flash: you're in highschool. Your guilty conscience can't be that bad, so I'll relieve you of the burden — "

"Do you hear yourself?" I'd said, taking a step towards her, my voice soft despite the biting edge to hers. At that moment, I had refused to get worked up and walk away like what I'd assumed she'd wanted of me — I had done that far too many times before and it had gotten me nowhere with her. Clary was tough, and so it wouldn't make sense that she'd be easy to get through to. "You're always depricating and demeaning and bagging on yourself. Did you ever think that maybe I want to help because I care about you? Has that ever crossed your mind? Clary, you're not a case study — I don't even know where you could've gotten that from — and you're not 'penance' for anything. I care about you. It's not...It's not normal to be so unhappy," I'd continued, taking a step even closer so that, if I'd wanted, I could embrace her again, though my arms remained respectively motionless. "There's something wrong. Or, maybe there are a lot of things wrong — " my eyes had saught hers stubbornly, forcing her to keep looking at me " — I can see it."

Clary had closed her eyes briefly, shaking her head back and forth slowly. She'd shifted on her feet and then hugged her elbows, as she did so often whenever I happened to spot her from across the hall. "You seem so set about who I am and that something is wrong, but I want to know something, too," she'd said, taking a deep breath. "Why do you care? What am I to you? Jace, you're always prying yet you skirt around me — we're not friends. We're not even co-workers. So, how could you possibly want to 'help' me when there is nothing between us to save?"

I'd opened my mouth but closed it, at a loss for words. Clary's face had fallen, as if she'd figured me all out from just a second's worth of my stupidity, and then she'd feinted towards the office further down the hall.

"Clary, wait!" I'd called, grabbing at her elbow gently. She'd blinked up at me, and I'd never seen a person look so sad before. "I want to be friends."

Her lips had pulled together into a tight yet regretful smile. "You shouldn't waste anymore time on me. Move on, and I'm sure you'll be much happier."

At that, I had let her walk away, and I regretted it even now, belated hours later during practice. It clearly showed because, already, I had gotten punted in the head with a ball, and knocked upside the head in the same spot with the coach's clipboard. "Why don't you just sit out, today. Maybe you'll stop lollygagging and remember how to play, yes?" he said in the present, blowing his whistle for a third time in my face. Behind him, half of the team was laughing their asses off. "Better yet, how about you just head straight for the showers and take a nice long one. And don't return to this field until you're worthy of the whistle!"

He didn't need to tell me twice. I was out of there. Coach was grumbling and mumbling under his breath as I bobbed my head once and turned on my heel. His scrutinizing eyes bore into my back even as I made it halfway across the field and bent down to grab my bag. Just for the hell of it, I took a long swig of water, turned back towards him, and gave him a thumbs-up, earning another explicit blow of the whistle. "Get out of here, Herondale! I mean it this time!" he demanded, comically red in the face.

I smiled and saluted him, taking my time to gather my stuff and walk the remainder of the field. I'd definitely be paying for it later, in the shape of who knows how many suicides next practice, but right now I couldn't bring myself to care. I didn't have work until tomorrow yet I knew Clary was still on her shift as I hurriedly headed towards the shower; if I could make it to Happy Cones in twenty minutes, I wouldn't miss her. I'd make things right finally —

"Jace!"

Stopping just short of the locker room doors, I turned to see Jordan racing towards me. He'd been distant all this week, hardly amounting to his infamous reputation of never shutting up. Even at lunch, his prime setting, he'd sit respectfully in his seat and stab at his food. The first and last time I asked him what was going on, he'd dismissed and told me to "piss off." You can imagine I wasn't necessarily excited to miss my window with Clary Morgenstern for Jordan Kyle.

Sighing, I acknowledged him with a gruff head nod. "Jordan, hey. Look, getting out of practice early was just what I needed to be somewhere. If you could, make this short — "

"You're going to see Clary, right?" Jordan said, stopping a yard away and breathing heavily.

I straightened up at that, furrowing my brows. "Is that really any of your business?"

"I made it my business, last weak," he breathed, dropping his eyes, his shoulders deflating. "If I tell you this, you'll promise not to go all Jace-almighty on me, right?"

"Depends," I said, weighing my words carefully. "Is there a reason for me to?"

"I'm just saying that if I were in your shoes I wouldn't put it past myself. I think I deserve something — maybe a public shaming or getting drowned in a river — "

"It's about Clary, Jordan. Get to the point," I said, not in the least bit assured by his admitting to doing something wrong, especially if it had anything to do with the girl in question.

He shook his head, looking painfully uncomfortable. "Okay, so, you know last week when we first got back to school?"

Nodding impatiently, I ushered him to continue.

"You made this move in the hallway to talk to Clary Morgenstern, and I thought it was strange. I don't know why, so don't ask. You've always just been so weird when it comes to her and I wanted to know what the big deal was — I figured you two had something going on, and that if you weren't going to tell me about it, she would."

"Jordan — "

"No, just listen real quick. I know I'm going to regret this, but if I wait any longer to tell you I probably won't ever bring it up again. You want to know, right?" He paused to look at me, moving agitated on his feet. "Of course you do. Anyways, I approached Clary in the halls during lunch — that's the real reason why I wasn't there — and I..."

"You what?" I pressed, moving towards him and tilting my head in unease. I was feeling dangerous; nothing good could've come out of Jordan and Clary being alone together, especially having grown to know him and engaging in enough conversations with him to recognize he is, for lack of better words, a total asshole.

"It was a mistake and I totally know that now — "

"What was a mistake, Jordan? Just spit it out already."

"I thought that with her being a sophomore and all, that she would appreciate someone like me showing an interest in her. And she never told me to stop or anything, until I was actually, you know..."

I refused to let myself connect the dots. "Define interest, Jordan, and choose your words carefully because I'm about a second away from going 'Jace-almighty' on you, you ignorant prick."

He took an uneven breath and rubbed at the back of his neck. "So, I kissed her — "

My fist was reeling back before I could even comprehend it flying against Jordan's jaw. It was throbbing, though, and I was heaving as he was staggering backwards to regain his balance, clutching at his face and cursing. "Okay, I deserved that," he said, holding up his other hand.

"Yeah, remind my hand of that," I grumbled, clutching my said hand and looking up to the sky. I had never hit anyone in my life before, and I had no idea what came over me — even though I really did, rather didn't have the words to express it. All I knew now, however, was that punching someone hurt like a bitch.

"Nice swing, at least," Jordan said, rubbing at his jaw. "You might've broken my jaw, but that's okay, man. Really, it's cool."

I squinted my eyes at him. "Okay, you must've really done something bad to congradulate me on busting your face up. I want the whole story. Start why you thought kissing a poor sophomore was a good idea."

He opened his mouth, as if to test the pain level, and then winced. "Shit."

"Jordan."

"Okay," he sighed. "I thought that Clary would admit to liking you, maybe, if I gave her a...nudge in the right direction."

"You mistook borderline-violating her with a 'nudge,'" I scoffed, shaking my head. "You know, normal people would perhaps inquire someone else about something they want to know. Do you think I'd make a move on our coach to find out what the line-up for next game is?"

"No. But we've both established that what I did was wrong. So, good, right?" He gauged my reaction and quickly retraced his steps. "Not right. Really, when you think about it, I was trying to do you favor. Even if Clary didn't admit her feelings for you, at the least, I thought it might make her realize them."

"Just for future reference, Clary and I can hardly manage more than a five-minute conversation together without taking jabs and cheap shots. I don't know why you thought there was anything going on in the first place — "

"I understand now, though," Jordan said, averting his gaze to the ground. "Jace, I might've have mistaken your interest in...helping her for a crush, but I'm not as dimwitted as most people like to make me out to be. I made a mistake. A big one. You're always seeking her out with your eyes because you're worried about her."

"I'm missing the big part of your story where you prove to me you're not dimwitted," I said, dread freezing my nerve-endings. "I think you may even know more than I know at this point."

Jordan nodded grimly at this. "I kissed her and it lasted all but ten seconds. She didn't even fight me off...she just started crying and...Well, Jace, I think there's something seriously wrong going on at home with her. She freaked out and had a panic attack right in front of me. I gave her space and apologized, because of course I didn't want to make her cry — it was just to see whether she was toying with one of my best friends."

It all made horrible sense now. Clary had ran into the girl's bathroom that day and she had been crying, and it was all because of Jordan. Even if my hand was shaking in the aftermath of crashing against Jordan's brickwall-like jaw, I wouldn't hesitate to punch him again, even if I was sure — call it an intuition, if you will — that his jerk-induced kissing marked the end of his stupidity in this situation. There was something else, though. I had feeling that one component wasn't adding up — that he was still witholding something else. Perhaps something bigger than I could've ever imagined.

"And, Jace, I mean that. If I had known something was up, I would've never bothered her at all. You know how I am, though. I'm a jerk and I don't think until it's too late..." Jordan continued, looking absolutely grief-stricken.

"Is that all?" I asked, hoping for a positive response. That he'd perhaps nod and prove me wrong.

Instead, he looked at me dead-on: "No. I don't really know how to say this, but it makes sense — why she's your Enigma Girl and is so anti-social. Why she reacted the way she did with me. I wasn't going to say anything but then I heard about how she started crying in class today, and that you went after her. If anyone should know, it's you, because despite what you may think, you're not the only one who looks at someone whenever your head is turned. There is something between you guys. Or you just care about each other. Either way, you can do more with this information than I alone could. "

"Do I want to hear this?"

"Probably not," he said, shaking his head ever so slightly, his bruising-jaw long forgotten. Jordan was shifting uneasily on his feet, a dark look marring his usually-carefree expression. "I mean, you hear about it all the time but it's just so surreal that you wouldn't imagine it actually happens. Especially not to someone like Clary Morgenstern. For you and me, high school is our number one problem. It's getting a good grade in some class or performing in a game. That should be any high schooler's problem. But I think that's not the case for Clary. I think that someone is hurting her."

The words hung in the air like a suffocating humidity. I knew this all along, but now it was no longer an instinct; it was real and out in the open for me to either grasp onto or allow to keep getting further and further out of reach

"You mean abusing, right?" I said, gauging his reaction. "I've seen bruising on her before — "

"More than that," Jordan said, his voice thick with regret. "When I kissed her, something was ignrained enough inside of her for her to respond so violently — I mean, she screamed. She started shaking all over and hyperventilating and crying. Her entire body went into this far away place I couldn't get through to — I tried to calm her down, but she kept going on...until I said something about her dad. Because, Jace, she'd called me 'Dad.' She said, verbatim, 'Stop, Dad' and 'Why are you doing this to me, Dad?' It wasn't my mind playing tricks on me. She said it and kept saying it, like she was under a spell or something. Clary didn't even realize it, either. Her face turned white when I asked her about him, and then she ran off — that's the part you saw. Someone's hurting her, though, and I think it's her own dad."

I looked down in shame — how trivial had I been, getting so worked up over her distancing and impassive commentary? If I really knew so damn much, why had I cared at all that she did everything in her power to push me away? Why had I let that stop me like some invisible barrier I couldn't cross — the girl was only five-feet tall, yet she was always this intangible nuisance I so badly wanted to touch. Well, of course she didn't want me touching her, not if her own father has turned human gestures into acidic, twisted brands. I was going to be sick. Like, vomit-all-over-the-place sick. My stomach churned and my entire body was reeling. Now, there were so many factors to consider; why she had a job — probably to be at home as little as possible — and why her brother was always hanging off of her shoulder, and why she remained dettached from the outside world.

"Not just physically abusive," I worked out. "Much more than that."

He nodded solemnly. "It's stuck with me this whole time and I've even been looking up videos on YouTube about domestic violence in families and stuff. She shows all the signs: she's withdrawn, hardly ever talks or eats much, and always does this thing with her eyes — she averts them, as if she's been trained to fear other people or that she's below them somehow. I know watching episodes of Dateline and Law and Order SUV don't contribute a whole lot, but it puts things into perspective and make situations like this one a reality to consider. I mean, Jace, there are sick people out there who hurt their own children. Fathers who...rape their daughters.

"I guess I have an idea now of what could be happening. The thing that scares me, though, is that knowing and actually doing something about it to help rather than make things are worse are two very different things. People that hurt their own family are the people you'd expect to go as far as killing them."

I blinked at him, half in horror and half in consuming hopelessness. I needed to talk to Clary.

Jordan nodded then, his cheeks filling with color. "After my mom caught me watching her recordings of Dr. Phil, she told me that I'm going to be a law persecutor or psychologist. And if you tell anyone that, I will murder you."

"Not if Clary's father beats you to it," I murmured, only somewhat joking.

Because I was going to become a whole lot more involved in his daughter's life. I had to, if I was ever going to save her.

Nothing too exciting here, but things are all out in the open now. Not only will there be more Jace-Clary interaction, but Clary-Isabelle, Clary-Jordan, Jace-Matt, Jace-Valentine, Clary-Valentine, Jace-Luke, Luke-Clary interactions to look forward to as well.

Please review(:

Until next time, peace.