Betrayed
Do what I do. Hold on tight and pretend it's a plan!
-the Doctor
"It's beautiful," Jace told Clary softly, staring, mouth agape, at the twinkling constellation in the sky. He recalled the stories he'd read as a boy, the Greek mythology about gods who moved the very stars themselves. A mortal man falling in love with a Greek goddess, that sounds about right, he chuckled to himself. "Clary, it's more amazing than anything I've seen in my life…imagine what Valentine would say if he saw this. Imagine the look on his face!"
Clary blushed. "It was the Doctor, Jace. He was the one who taught me a few runes of the Timelord language and he was the one who helped me move the stars. He thought of the whole thing!"
Jace kissed Clary's hair. "You made the rune, Clary, you made the most powerful rune that ever existed."
Clary sighed and cast a sneaking eye over to the Doctor. He was, as usual, at the controls of the Tardis, and he seemed to be deep in thought, his fingers moving swiftly over the buttons. He would glance occasionally at the screen, and Clary saw the strange black hole that she knew he was trying to manipulate. "He's a very impressive man, the Doctor."
Jace shrugged. "Yes, I don't deny that; but I don't think I envy him much." Clary gave Jace an inquisitive look and he said, "Well, look at him. He spends his entire life, flying around space and time, getting caught up in the thick of things wherever he goes. It makes you wonder, doesn't it, what type of man does that to himself."
"A sad man," Clary said decidedly. "I think he's very sad and very often lonely. Amy and Rory mentioned the Time War, but they never said what happened."
"I don't think he'd tell us if we asked," Jace muttered. "At least, I don't think he'd tell us now, but we've got a few more important things to worry about than the Doctor's past right now. Isabelle, Alec, stop fawning over the time machine, we've got planning to do!"
Isabelle, who had been deep in conversation with River, frowned at Jace, but Alec nodded over and she grudgingly joined them. "So, what's the next move?"
"I think we need to get Magnus and Luke, at least," Jace said thoughtfully. "Right now, Valentine and Jonathan are probably going out of their minds trying to figure out what we did. In their confusion, we should have just enough time to-"
"Jace," Isabelle said, hands on her hips. "We're in a time machine. I think we've got all the time in the world. So, since we've got this time, let's plan this out carefully. We don't want a repeat of our rescue, do we?"
"What was wrong with you rescue?" asked the Doctor loudly. They all spun around and found the Doctor leaning over the railing and smiling crookedly. "I think is went swimmingly."
"If you don't count the frantic, confused fight, then yes, it went fine," sniffed Isabelle.
"Confusion and hysteria are calling cards of mine," agreed the Doctor as if Isabelle had complimented him. "I think they lend an overall exciting element to the experience. Besides, what's life without a little chaos?"
"Much more enjoyable," muttered Alec. He heard someone snort and looked over his shoulder to see Amy and Rory smiling at him; Amy winked at him and he smiled uncertainly back. "I don't know where Magnus went into hiding."
"I'll be able to track him down," the Doctor said. "A warlock of Magnus's status must be giving off pretty powerful electromagnetic waves; like a big flashing light for the Tardis. As for Luke, well, werewolves don't exactly emit tidal waves of energy."
Clary frowned a little. "I want to get Luke away from Valentine; my father hated Luke, so he's probably taken a lot of his anger out on him."
"Luke first then," Jace said, looking helplessly to Alec. "If we can get Luke and Magnus I think we'll be able to pose a significant threat to Valentine. The Soul Sword and Mortal Cup should be useless at this point; his grip on the shadowhunters is merely his control over runes now."
"Then isn't this the time to strike?" asked Isabelle, eyes gleaming. "Shouldn't we be trying to bring them down now before they have time to rally their support? I particularly want to fight an army of shadowhunters, even with a time machine."
"I'm not worried about the shadowhunters," murmured the Doctor. "I think we need to render Valentine helpless, since, as you said, Jace, it's only his power over runes that pose a threat."
"And how are we going to go about that?" asked Alec a little more sharply than he intended. "I mean to say, Valentine was no helpless shadowhunter to begin with. He can fight."
"He's dangerous," Jace said solemnly, wishing it weren't true. "He raised me, Doctor, and I know what he's capable of. You'll have to kill him if you want to stop him."
"Dangerous…" muttered the Doctor, eyes racing. "Dangerous, that's the rub…"
Alec considered the Doctor and turned to the nearest companion, Rory. "Is he always like this?"
"No," Rory said thoughtfully. "He's usually much more confusing, saying things like-"
"The Temporal Grace Unit!" the Doctor exclaimed.
"-things like that," Rory finished. "He's a bit absent minded; or, maybe, he's just really well minded and we're the absent ones."
"River," the Doctor was saying. "Can you fix the Temporal Grace Unit in the Tardis?"
"Sure, but why?" she asked, thinking about the complicated machinery she was going to have to fix. "It could take a few days."
"Well, I've thought about it, and here's what I got: Valentine is dangerous, and we need to make him un-dangerous."
"Un-dangerous?" snickered Isabelle, smiling a little at Clary.
"Yes, exactly," said the Doctor seriously. "Let me explain. A Tardis is interdimensional, and this means the inside of the Tardis is in a different dimension than its outside. The dimension of the interior of the Tardis is in a state of Temporal Grace. It means that anything inside the Tardis not only doesn't exist, it is harmless."
"I don't exist?" asked Isabelle, glancing down at herself unhelpfully.
"Inside the Tardis, you don't exist to the outside world," the Doctor said simply. "The point is, if I can get Valentine inside the Tardis, he will cease to exist to the world as you know it. And, more importantly, he won't be able to hurt anyone inside the Tardis. If Valentine doesn't exist…"
"The runes won't be effective anymore," Jace breathed, smiling over at the Doctor. "He won't be dead, so it won't necessarily change the time stream, but it will stop him. That's brilliant."
"My ideas tend to be," agreed the Doctor. "What do you say, River, can you fix the Temporal Grace circuit?"
River glanced down at the Tardis grated floor. "Give me three days and your sonic screwdriver and you've got yourself one working circuit. How are we going to lure Valentine into the Tardis?"
The Doctor glanced over to Jace and Clary. "You two spent the most time with him, you especially, Jace. What will convince him to follow us into the Tardis?"
Jace and Clary exchanged looks. "The idea of getting revenge."
Hellfire, that's what it is, hellfire. I'm being burned by hellfire. It doesn't stop…it won't stop…someone, make it stop…
…please, make it stop.
Jonathan lay trapped in a body, a useless, immobile body that felt nothing, knew nothing, but pain. Every fiber of his body begged for release, but he couldn't speak, and so he remained trapped. Distantly, beyond the pain and the madness that was slowly consuming him, Jonathan wondered how he could have lived for so long and never known this much pain. He had lived all his life with pain as his shadow: his childhood marked by it, his adolescence defined by it, and his actions seeking it-even as a baby, Jonathan had known the sharp pain of a distant mother. But this, this was different.
It seemed to Jonathan that he was being pulled apart from the inside out. His bones were cracking under the grinding pressure of the force, his insides roiling, his blood boiling. Surely,surely, this was what it meant to be condemned to hell?
I must have died, Jonathan thought faintly. Something must have happened, and I must have died. I'm in hell now. How very fitting…But that didn't make sense, did it? Jonathan was part greater demon, he knew, and so his rightful place was in hell. Why would he feel pain like this if he were where he belonged? I'm only part greater demon; this pain must be the human part of me-the angel blood-that's being torn out. The hellfire is burning out whatever of the Angel is left in me.
It certainly wasn't a happy thought to know that he had finally gone to hell, but it was oddly, darkly, satisfying. In some way, Jonathan was happy to know that he could drop any pretenses of his angel-self. He had lived a long while now, lying to anyone who asked, and, more recently, to all those empty-minded shadowhunters. Now, he could stop pretending and be what he was born: a demon.
Relax, let the Angel be burned out…relax and let what must happen…this is what you want…
Isn't it?
This last thought burned through Jonathan like the fire that was eating him alive now. Certainly he wanted to become a true child of Lilith, didn't he? Jocelyn wasn't his mother, she had betrayed him when he was but a baby, and he turned away from any decency then. He should just accept this as his fate and reach his fullest potential. But, for some reason, Jonathan couldn't let himself go. For some reason, he was…
Scared. I'm scared to let go. Jonathan tried to force himself to let go of the goodness in him, but some unnatural, unreasonable part of him fought back. I don't want to be a demon…I don't want to be damned. I don't want to say goodbye to the light of the sun and wind in the grass and the starlight in the night. Someone…don't let me go yet.
But still the fire raged through him and Jonathan wondered if he might just be trapped like this forever. The demon part of him wanted release, but there was a small part of his soul that still belonged to the Angel, and that was clinging desperately to life, and so he was trapped in this purgatory, unable to go forward or back.
Make it stop…make it…
"Stop," Jonathan groaned aloud. The sound of his voice stirred to life the woman who was asleep in the chair beside his bedside. "Stop."
Jocelyn sat up straighter and lurched to the bed, taking Jonathan's hand in her own and rubbing. His hand was hot, as if a fever was blazing through him, and there was sweat pouring down his face. Terrified, Jocelyn undid the buttons on Jonathan's shirt and tugged it off his body, it came away covered in sweat and his skin shone in the candle light of the room. Jonathan's chest rose and fell hectically, and when Jocelyn listened for his heart beat, it was erratic. Petrified that he might be having a heart attack, Jocelyn wrung out a rag and wiped the sweat off while she called for help.
"Jonathan, please, it's okay; I'm here, your mother is here," she cooed as a nurse rushed in and checked his pulse and temperature.
The nurse cast Jocelyn a sad look and shook her head. Though she was enslaved to Valentine and, by extension, this woman, she couldn't turn away from a mother living in fear for her son. Since the nurse didn't know Jonathan, at least not in any real way, she could sympathize with Jocelyn. "He's alive, miss."
"I know," Jocelyn sobbed, "but just look at him. He's got a fever, and he shakes, and seizes, and moans something horrible. I can't bear to watch my son like this. What's wrong with him?"
"No one knows, miss," said the nurse kindly. "Your husband brought him here, saying he had collapsed a day ago in a fit. Perhaps this is demon work? Perhaps your son was wounded in the battle by a demon and just now the poison has reached his heart?"
"That was months ago!" Jocelyn cried, and she gave Jonathan a faint shake. "Oh, Jonathan, please, wake up. Just open your eyes; don't go…"
"I do not think he will die, miss; your son is strong." The nurse went to reach for Jocelyn's shoulder, but the other woman pulled away with a dark look at the nurse.
"My son is strong? Yes, I know that, thank you, but to what end did it get him?" Jocelyn tossed her hair over her shoulder and returned her focus to her son. "Bring me my husband."
"Yes, miss," sniffed the nurse, and then left, regretting showing Jocelyn Morgenstern any pity.
"Jonathan, please wake up." Jocelyn sat with him, hoping he might mutter something to her again, and a small part of her wondered how this had happened.
He was will, was all, she thought. My little boy, the son I thought dead, he was ill.
Yes, but what? hissed another voice in her head. What made him so ill?
Jonathan has just been overworked by Valentine, busy with the Clave. I should have seen him more often, offered him my help more. When he wakes up I'll never leave his side.
You mean when you left his side as he burned alive in your parents' house?
But he didn't die. Jonathan and Valentine returned to me, and I had a family all over again. It was me and Valentine and Jonathan and Clary…
Clary…?
Clary wanted a family too; she was always mooning after Luke to be her father, but why bother now that she has a real father and real brother? Clary is happy-will be happy-when this is all settled. Valentine will bring Clary back to me.
Valentine will hurt Clary, you know? You've seen him do it. You've watched while he beats her and Jace and then you leave them. What kind of mother are you?
Clary needs to learn discipline, she needs to learn control, or else how will she become a great shadowhunter? Valentine loved you, and loves the children you bore him, he tells you every day. One day, when Clary is older and married, she will be grateful Valentine raised her as he did. Clary will love him just like you.
"Stop…"
"Jonathan?" Jocelyn asked at once, and she cupped his cheek in her palm. "Jonathan, are you awake?"
"Where am I?" Jonathan asked though his voice was weak and gravelly, like he hadn't had water in days.
"You're in Idris, Jonathan, in your room at home. Everything is alright, Jonathan, everything is going to be okay."
Jonathan opened his eyes and squinted up at Jocelyn. Her face was haggard with shadows under her eyes and worry lines in her face. She seemed to be possessed by a frantic energy, and every movement was shaking and uncertain. Jonathan had never really liked Jocelyn, not in any loving way, anyway. He knew Valentine loved her-was obsessed with her-so he had accepted her presence and her sickening motherly ministrations. Now, however, glancing up at her, Jonathan felt a strange stirring in his belly, though he couldn't name the feeling.
Just kill her, just tear out her throat and watch the stupid bitch bleed out, he hissed at himself. That's what you're feeling-finally-you're feeling the urge to kill your own mother. This is just more proof that the Angel is leaving you; you're becoming a demon in full.
"Where is my father?" Jonathan asked dryly, staring at Jocelyn with huge, reflective eyes. "I need to speak with my father."
"He'll be here soon, Jonathan," Jocelyn promised. "I told him I would stay with you while you slept and recovered. You passed out almost a day ago."
Jonathan blinked in surprise. "A day?" he croaked. "That's not possible. I don't-I never…"
"Perhaps it is good for you, Jonathan," said Jocelyn gently. "You've been so busy lately, running errands for your father, consolidating power, watching Clary and Jace for me…You need to relax some."
Just kill her. "No."
"But you're sick, Jonathan!"
"I wasn't talking to you." Jonathan shook his head. Where did that come from? "I mean, I wasn't tired. Has my father found Jace and Clary yet?"
Jocelyn's face fell. "They're still gone; Valentine has been trying to track them down for a bit now-that's where he is now. I asked him, but he just said they'd ran away and are using a rune Clary made to hide from him." Jocelyn shook her head. "I do hope they come back of their own free will; it will go hard for Clary if Valentine must bring her back."
"Jace knows better," grunted Jonathan, wondering if Jocelyn knew the truth that he did.
"He's a good boy," Jocelyn agreed. "I hoped that he might prove a good influence on Clary, and I still hope he brings Clary back to me, but how they managed to hide, I'll never know."
Jonathan scowled at the mention of Jace. She loves Angel Boy more than me. "It's Clary, that's all. My father will bring them back soon, and after that, he'll never let them run away again. You'd like that."
Jocelyn smiled. "I just want our family to be together."
"And we will be, Jocelyn," said a voice like iron behind her. Valentine was standing in the doorway, staring at the scene before him. He had never understood the family dynamic well, and had made his own instead. Now, he speculated over what stood between Jonathan and Jocelyn. Suddenly, though, Jocelyn smiled brilliantly at Valentine, and he relaxed. So long as Jocelyn was happy, he would be pleased. "I'm going to find our wayward daughter soon."
"Don't be too hard on her, Valentine," Jocelyn said simply. "I love Clary, and even though she's a troubled young girl, there's hope. Jace has always been a good influence on our daughter. Don't punish him for her."
Valentine held out a hand to Jocelyn, who rose up and joined him, kissing him gently. "I won't. Now, why don't you go talk to the Lightwoods? I've heard they might be coming around to us."
"I would like to have Myrse to talk to again," Jocelyn said thoughtfully, and, with a last look at Jonathan, left.
"I take it, you have not found them?" Jonathan asked from the bed.
Valentine closed the door to Jonathan's bedroom with a snap and turned to face his son. His eyes raked Jonathan, seeing everything from the shallow rise and fall of his chest, to the sweat that was steaming on his skin. But that wasn't what most concerned Valentine, no, it was the look in Jonathan's eyes. There was something there, something…diminished.
"Not that I expected to," Valentine answered. "This man, this Doctor, I've had the Silent Brothers looking for him in the library."
"And have they found anything?" Jonathan raised one eyebrow. He hated when his father stared at him.
Valentine's lips pulled back in a snarl. "There are mentions all over, from all over. He keeps popping up in different places, different times, but it's always the same: right when the world is about to crumble into darkness, the Doctor makes an appearance."
"So, he's real?" Jonathan felt an odd flutter in his chest. Kill the Doctor? No. "There's really a man out there who can travel through time?"
"Impossible," snapped Valentine, but his voice held a strange note of doubt. "Whatever this Doctor man is, he's a liar. No one can travel through time. Now, how he's managed to hide Clary and Jace from me, that's something I've been mulling over."
"How do you figure that?"
Valentine passed by his stationary son and stared out the window at the city below. "He must be a warlock. Using a spell to make his home travel through the dimensions."
"Like our apartment," Jonathan mused. No, the apartment couldn't travel through time. "How do you account for him cropping up all through history?"
"Don't be a fool!" Valentine snapped. "Clearly, a warlock might live a long time, and that's what this man is. He's just a clever warlock, but what he wants with Clary and Jace, I don't know."
"What if he meant what he said? What if he's here to stop us?" A pang of something raced through his heart. What was it…? Fear, you're feeling fear.
"Us?" asked Valentine sharply. "I was unaware you were still at my side, Jonathan. I thought, perhaps, this sickness might have taken you from me."
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "Whatever do you mean, Father?"
"You are weak," Valentine said simply. "I see it in you, Jonathan. Whatever has happened to you, whatever might have caused it-and I suspect your runt of a sister-it has changed you."
"I am still your son, still fighting for your cause," Jonathan said evenly.
"That remains to be seen," shrugged Valentine. "You are certainly not ready for any action today, probably not tomorrow, and I need swift action now."
"Let me help-"
"The Lightwoods brats are gone."
"That's not possible," said Jonathan swiftly. "I saw them into their cell myself!" Perhaps you're failing yourself?
"Then where are they, Jonathan!" Valentine snarled, turning about to face him. "I went to question them, and what do I find? An empty cell, chains broken, and scorch marks on the wall! Who do you think is behind it?"
"The Doctor-"
"The warlock, Magnus Bane, has gone missing." Valentine turned away, but Jonathan saw the hands clasped behind his back turn white at the knuckles. "We were keeping tabs on him, and today, suddenly, he was gone. I suspect Clary and Jace were behind it, probably with the help of the Lightwoods they freed."
Jace and Clary hiding, the Lightwoods breaking free, and warlocks vanishing…how can you deny his strength? Jonathan shuddered a little. "I'll help."
"And then there is you," Valentine growled.
"Me?"
"The Doctor threatened action, he threatened to right what was wrong, didn't he?" Valentine's eyes turned sharply on Jonathan and stared, unforgiving. "You, Jonathan, are certainly wrong. Not three days ago he helped Jace and Clary escape and swore to stop me, and yesterday, the Soul Sword dissolves and you collapse. You must see a connection?"
Jonathan swallowed. "The Soul Sword is a weapon of the Angel. I am not."
Valentine shrugged. "You are both weapons of mine, or, you were."
"I still am!" Jonathan snapped, and his eyes turned hard. "Give me just one more day and I'll be back on my feet. I'll help you track down the brats and kill that Doctor."
"You'll do no such thing," Valentine said softly. "There is too much at stake, and too much I don't know about the Doctor. You will remain here, Jonathan, until what you have become is revealed. I will leave Jocelyn with you."
"I don't want Jocelyn!"
"You will stay," he ordered, and Jonathan was shocked to find that he too, was bound by the runes he bore to serve his father. "I will return in a few days time to check on you, Jonathan. Behave yourself while I am gone; I haven't had to discipline you since you were a boy." He smirked, and Jonathan felt a surge of anger, but he passed by and left the room, closing the door with a snap.
What have I become that my own father doesn't want me?