Author's Note: Because, for some reason, inspiration continued to strike me, I've finished this chapter too! I decided to upload it as well to truly say sorry for my absence.

Comparisons

"But I cannot see how that is going to work… How do we do this in such a way where this works!"

Jocelyn started from where she was standing when she heard the screams of metal and Valentine as the tap was wrenched from its place. She could hear water splattering the bathroom door in front of her and she stepped back, fear coursing through her. She ran back along the corridor to their room silently and reached for the dagger hidden inside her pillow. She clutched it in numb fingers as the volume of Valentine's screams increased. The enkeli rune carved on the handle of the blade winked at her in the moonlight peering through the gap in the curtains.

She ran her finger along the wickedly sharp tip of the dagger, feeling her heart rate slow down with the familiar weapon in her hands. Her father had given her the dagger when she was fourteen. It was a perfect weapon for delivering a killing blow, to demons and to people. It was always hidden in a place where she could quickly access it now. She breathed a sigh of relief when the sound of yells coming from the bathroom quieted to the sound of sobs.

She replaced the dagger and walked back down the corridor, this time making sure that Valentine could hear her soft footsteps. He opened the door before she had even reached it and she simply stood and looked at the way his eyes had reddened, at the discolouration of broken fingers. She walked slowly towards Valentine, her hand outstretched, in the way to approach wounded animals.

He gave another strangled sob as she reached him, her steady green eyes automatically calming him. He crushed her to him and whispered his fears into her hair whilst she held him despite the water drenching them both, murmuring nonsense to him as though he were as little as Jonathan.

He felt a small tug on his trousers and looked down to see Jonathan with his brow furrowed in concentration, using Valentine to pull himself up so he was standing. His arms and legs were wet with the water surrounding them and he was looking up at his father with a quizzical expression. "Father's fine." Valentine whispered to him, and Jocelyn jumped. She looked down at their son.

"How did you get out of your crib?" she asked him, and Valentine smiled at the innocent look Jonathan gave his mother.

Jocelyn sighed. "I'll change him and put him back into bed. What will we do about this mess in here?"

Valentine laughed. "Leave that to me."

She shook her head. "I'd better come back and find this whole thing cleared up." She left the bathroom, sloshing through the water with Jonathan in her arms.

When she left Jonathan's bedroom, Jocelyn felt her stomach drop as she found the bathroom looking as though it had never been damaged and the burnt sugar smell of magic.

Valentine smiled as he looked at the sleeping face of his wife. He propped an arm up to see her more clearly in the moonlight peering through the gap in the curtains. Valentine's smile widened when he noticed there were no tear tracks visible on her cheeks. He had been right about capturing the angel after all. Ithuriel's blood had had so many uses.

He had been slightly apprehensive about holding the angel captive. The fact that Ithuriel had been there in front of him was proof that there was a higher power, that there were both demons and angels. But seeing Ithuriel on his knees before him, seeing that higher power made helpless before him, had told him this truly was his destiny. If he could make angels fall, surely he could make Downworlders fall. That is what he had told himself as he had stared at the broken tap in his hand. It was what held him together, made him strong despite the pressure of the Uprising.

He could do this. He wound the curls of Jocelyn's hair through his fingers, marvelling the fact that even in the dark her hair shone. They could do this.

Jocelyn sat in the elaborate parlour of the Lightwood manor, smiling as little Alec held up a toy sword for her to take. She felt slightly nauseous. "Is fa you!" he chirped, grinning at her with all the world's joy in his extraordinary eyes. Maryse looked up from the travel cot where she had laid a sleeping Jonathan, grinning at her boy. "Are you fighting for Jocelyn?" She swooped down on Alec, swinging him up in the air. "Aren't you my kind, clever boy! Yes, yes you are!"

The shrieks of Alec's laughter drove in to Jocelyn's head like spikes. She did not usually get along with Maryse, it was true. They both had strong personalities, and they had clashed together too many times to count. But there was a mutual respect between them, even if there wasn't affection, and that respect was the reason Jocelyn had agreed to this playdate for their two sons.

But looking at Maryse with Alec, Jocelyn felt as though she had swallowed sharp knives. The sharpness to Maryse's features and the hardness in her eyes all softened when she looked at her son, and Alec in turn looked at Maryse as though she was the sun in his sky. Jonathan looked at Jocelyn with an idle curiosity at all times. There had never been an expression of love in his features in the eleven months he had been alive.

She felt a small hand grab her leg. She looked down at Alec, swallowing against the tightness in her throat. "Here," she said to him, pressing the toy sword against his outstretched hand. "Use this to be the best Shadowhunter you can be."

"Da bes' Shadowhunter?" He looked up at Jocelyn, dark blue eyes serious.

"The best Shadowhunter."

Maryse smiled softly at the scene. "Of course you will be, darling. Now come on, it's nap time for you." Alec began to protest as Maryse took his hand. "Alec, what happens if you don't have a nap?" she asked sternly.

Jocelyn fought back a laugh as the small boy's shoulders crumpled. "I get gruwmpy." he answered sullenly.

"Exactly. Even though you'll be three soon, you still have to take naps, darling." A sudden loud knock startled Alec, and Maryse nodded at Jocelyn. Jocelyn smiled reassuringly at the disgruntled toddler and moved towards the door, opening it to discover an unfamiliar blonde woman standing there. When she looked up, Jocelyn was shocked by both her beauty and the baby bump pushing through her coat. She seemed terribly young, her beauty only highlighting her youth. She frowned slightly at Jocelyn, confusion evident on her features.

"Hi, I'm Jocelyn. Jocelyn Morgenstern. Who are you?"

The woman, girl really, looked at Jocelyn with wide brown eyes. There was a terrible vulnerability in her eyes.

"Jocelyn Morgenstern? Wife of Valentine Morgenstern?" Jocelyn nodded, and the girl's eyes grew impossibly larger. "I am so honoured to meet you!" Her accent seemed French and was lovely to hear. "I am Céline. Céline Herondale.

Jocelyn reeled internally, looking at Céline. "So this is the girl Stephen was made to marry," she thought. Jocelyn had wondered who Céline was, and had resolved to hate her for her part in Valentine's charade. But she found she could not call the emotion to her when she looked at Céline. Jocelyn simply smiled at her instead, wanting to put this girl at ease. "It's nice to meet you, Céline. Stephen's told me a lot about you."

It was clear that this was the right thing to say, as Céline's face glowed with pleasure.

"Céline, come in and sit down. It's not good for you or your baby to be constantly up on your feet." Maryse called.

Walking home, Jocelyn mused on what she had learnt about Céline. Jocelyn could tell she loved Stephen and her baby from the bottom of her heart. "It's a boy." she had told her, cradling her bump. "I have only got another three months left before I can hold him in my arms, and it seems as though I cannot wait another day." She avoided talking about her childhood, something Jocelyn noticed when she had artfully deflected Maryse's question about whether she had any siblings. But what was truly plain to see was how Céline worshipped Valentine. What she had told Jocelyn before she left echoed in Jocelyn's head.

"Your husband is so kind. He is so concerned about Stephen and me. He gives me potions and mixtures for the health of the baby, they are wonderful. Tell him I thank him again."

Jocelyn shook the memory free. As much as she had been shocked, she could not have said anything to Céline. Her husband was in the inner part of the Circle, now Valentine's second, and Céline clearly worshipped Valentine, so saying nothing was her only course of action. To distract herself, she recalled other parts of her visits, such as Alec asking for a hug before "the pwitty lady goes home" and at how Maryse had talked of her and Robert trying for a second baby soon-

Jocelyn stopped walking, nearly dropping Jonathan.

"No."

She counted backwards, double checking and triple checking the dates. She ran through how she was feeling, comparing it to the last time she had felt this way, and felt her legs buckle beneath her. She dropped to her knees on the path and let Jonathan wriggle out of her arms, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

She was pregnant.

She was pregnant.

Oooooooooooh I did say it was getting intense! Thanks for reading and who knows, at this rate the next chapter could be up very soon! I honestly haven't moved from my laptop for about three hours. As always, tell me what you thought! I love hearing from you all.