I didn't have any prompts, but I had a dream! And then I wrote that dream up as a drabble, Clace style! Well, actually, it's more about Jocelyn and Clary than Clace but... details!

I actually had this dream last night, so don't expect it to make sense. Or maybe it does, idk. -Izzy

When Clary woke up, she almost forgot where she was. Almost. She wished she could forget the agonizing pain from the day. Or night. She had forgotten the time. Looking around her surroundings, the room was dark and beeping. Nope, that was just the machines next to her bed. The thin blankets were draped over her and she was stinging under them.

The Hospital room was one of the best in New York, and of course Jace had insisted she went there. Speaking of him, Clary noticed him in the armchair under the window, his head drooped as he slept. But he'd stayed. Of course he had. After that, there was no way he was going to leave her.

She had been in labour for hours the day before, when it was still light outside. Half way through, like the idiot she was, she had blacked out from the pain. She didn't remember much after that, but when she fazed into reality, she remembered there being a lot of blood. Something had gone wrong. Then she had passed out again. And now... Oh God! What had gone wrong?!

Before she allowed herself to panic, she decided to find out for herself. She pushed the covers off of herself and forced herself to her feet. There was a wave of dizziness, trying to push her back down, but she just blinked it away, taking a lot of deep breaths. She was hooked up to a morphine thingy, that she wheeled over Jace's chair. She picked up the white cardigan that was discarded over the chair and slipped it over her hospital gown. Her orange hair was in a ponytail and she looked a mess. Her bump was still hanging about, but it already seemed to be smaller.

Swallowing, she poked her head out of the door and looked around. The nurse in the ward was facing a vending machine and Clary left the room and slipped through the corridor.

Now... where did they keep the babies?

She didn't know where she was going, but her instincts led her to the little nursery bit, with the rows and rows of babies. One of the had to be hers. She could see them through the window, before opening the door and slipping inside, dragging her morphine drip with her. She looked over all the babies, at least twenty. More, probably. Her eyesight was still fuzzy and she couldn't find any signs. Which baby was hers?

She remembered a story her mother told her when she younger. A pre-teen.

"I had a seizure during your birth," Jocelyn had said. Clary was sat next to her on the couch, looking at a scrapbook of her as a baby. "I woke up in the dead of the night and found my way to the nursery. Looking over the rows of babies, I knew exactly which one was you!" She had kissed Clary's head then and smiled proudly. She had always assumed her mother knew which one was her because of the hair.

But these babies didn't have any hair. No babies had hair! Clary was in the exact same position her mother had been in. Perhaps Clary had had a seizure during labour as well.

Only... Clary couldn't tell which baby was hers.

Maybe the one with the blue eyes? No, neither her, nor Jace had blue eyes. She started looking around for gold eyes, but none of the babies had that. And almost half of them had green eyes! And she couldn't find any other resemblance between any of the babies and her or Jace.

Oh God! She couldn't even identify her own baby! She was going to be a terrible mother!

She felt tears creep up on her as one of the babies looked at her weirdly. Clary just looked at it and shrugged. "I'm already bad at this," she told it. "And I haven't even started." The baby didn't respond. Of course it didn't. It was a baby. Clary moved over to it and looked into the cot. "You're a very understanding baby," she whispered to it.

She didn't think twice about it, and didn't know if she was breaking some sort of rule, but she leaned down to pick the child up. She cradled it in her arms and went to a corner of the room to curl up on the floor. She rocked the baby as she talked to it. All about her worries about being a parent. The baby was a very good listener. Eventually, Clary stopped talking. She started singing softly to the child. Not a lullaby, an Alternative Rock song that her and Simon had grown up listening to.

The baby began to doze off at the sound of her voice and after a minute, someone appeared at the doorway.

"Clary, what on Earth are you doing here?!" Her mother demanded. Jocelyn walked over to her, and knelt down next to her. "I went to check on you but you weren't in your ward. I was worried sick."

Clary looked up at her mother, already scared that she would judge her. "I had to see my baby," she explained, feeling oddly childlike in that moment. "But I couldn't find my one, so I started talking to this one about how I'm going to be a terrible parent. It's been very therapeutic."

Jocelyn turned around to check the cot Clary had found the baby in. Then she turned back to Clary. "But sweetheart, that is your baby!" She said, as though Clary was being silly. "It's a girl. Jace hasn't named her yet, he'd been waiting for you to wake up."

Clary paused, her face falling as she looked down at the girl. "My baby?" She asked, in disbelief. For some reason, she had been talking to that baby for almost fifteen minutes, and it had never once occurred to her that it was her baby. "Like... to keep?"

"That's the plan," Jocelyn nodded, sitting down with her. She was wearing flannel pyjama pants and Luke's t-shirt. She'd run down to hospital in the middle of the night, almost twenty four hours before and hadn't left since. "Look, you're in pain, you're on morphine, you've had a long couple of days. But maternal instincts are still there. They led you to the right child."

Clary paused, beginning to shake slightly as she leaned down to kiss her baby girl on the head. "Mom," she whispered. "If it's okay, I think I'm going to stay here for a while." She wasn't nearly ready to put her child back down and leave for her ward. Jocelyn, nodded as though she understood.

"Okay, but how about I talk to a nurse about taking the baby to your room?" She suggested. It was an obvious idea, but Clary wasn't exactly in her right mind, so Jocelyn presented it like a master plan.

"Thanks, Mom," Clary whispered.

A/N: I enjoyed writing this. Let me know what you think in the reviews below.

Leave me some prompts because... well, coming up with ideas on my own clearly isn't working out for me. xD

All requests are excepted, so please feel free to leave one! You can review with prompts! You can also PM me if you have a prompt or send it to me on tumblr at: empressofwanderlust . tumblr . com