Clary's POV

I let out a small gasp.

Jace was dead.

Dead.

My mind couldn't grasp the concept. All the sudden, my horror was gone. My unbelief was gone. My shock, it was all gone. Replacing it was a driving determination, a red hot anger, a desperation for his life that I would not let go. Jace would not die. Not on my watch.

"Jace Wayland, you are not leaving me. Not after all we've been through. You said only a bullet wouldn't bring you down. You will keep that promise." I said, moving to his side, finally getting my senses about me.

I felt his skin. It was still warm, so there was still a chance. I had taken advanced health at my old school, and we learned CPR, the Heimlich maneuver, emergency breathing, and so on. Two test breaths, 30 compressions. Two, 30, two, 30. The process repeated for two minutes. I checked his pulse again. If there was anything there it was very, very faint. I repeated CPR again.

The second time I checked his pulse, I felt it fluttering.

He was alive. And I was the one that saved him. He was going to live.

I blinked back tears but couldn't help the gasp of relief that racked my body.

I sat there staring at him for what seemed like hours, but in reality, I think it was only 15 minutes.

Faintly, I could hear a racket outside. But everything was moving in slow motion. I couldn't move, my body refused to obey any command my brain tried to send out. The doors were thrown open, and moonlight filtered in, lighting the back of the van in a pale yellow glow. I couldn't comprehend what was happening, my brain wasn't grasping anything but the fact that Jace was alive.

I felt my body being lifted out and carefully carried to another van, but this one more inviting. It seemed friendly, urgent, but friendly. I was put on something and my mouth was covered in plastic, but instead of suffocating me, it forced my lungs to comply to my brain's command to breathe.

I faintly heard people's voices shouting. Except it didn't sound like shouts. Everything was dulled. Noise was reduced to a slow, meaningless, sluggishly dull throb. I saw flashing lights that dimmed by the second and my brain registered the fact that Jace was being transported in the same cot like thing as me. Part of me wanted to giggle at all this seeming silliness, but I didn't get the chance to before my world went completely dark.

…

Izzy's POV

I woke up when a body was slammed against the glass of my window. It was the jerk who shot me with the Taser. I smirked up at his face, which was currently smothered against the glass. He was lifted and I almost started crying with relief when I saw my father standing there, fiercely fighting one of Boss's henchman. There seemed to be a whole army of police officers. My door was opened and I came face to face with Jonathon.

"Come on Izzy, we're leaving right now. They aren't capturing us again. Someone's taking you and I in a car back home."

"What about Jace and Clary?" Jon visibly winced and grimaced.

"We're going to pick them up on our way to the car. But we need to get going now." As soon as he said that, a bullet hit a tree above our heads with a shower of wood raining onto the hood of the car. I nodded and took Jon's outstretched hand, but as soon as I tried to take a step, my legs gave out and I would've fallen if not for Jon's strong hands holding me up.

"What'd they do to you?"

"Tased me." Jon looked even more murderous than he had moments before when talking about Clary.

We rushed off to the van I recognized as Jace and Clary's but it had already been opened and there was no Jace and no Clary.

"They must have already taken them." I said uncertainly.

Just then, I caught sight of fire-red hair being whisked into an ambulance. But before I could say anything to Jon, the doors closed and it sped away.

"Jon, they left with them."

"What?"

"That ambulance, it left with Clary, and I'm assuming Jace too."

"What happened? What happened to my little sister?" Jon growled.

"I don't know. Is Jace even alive?" Jon looked me with shock and concern. He put a comforting brother-like arm around my shoulders, attempting to comfort me in the mess that was happening around us, bullets and fists flying around us. A man in a police officer uniform approached us with caution and urgency.

"Isabelle Lightwood and Jonathon Morgenstern?" We looked at the man. "Come on. I'm taking you to Jace and Clary. They were transported to the nearest hospital. Clary was in a state of shock and fell unconscious. Jace was barely alive, he was literally on the verge of death when we got to him. We don't know what kept him alive. Let's go, we have to get out of here now." His words were punctuated with the sound of helicopter wings chopping through the air towards us.

We all ran to a black car and got in. The man got into the driver's seat and Jon and I sat together in the back.

"Sir, are they going to live?" I asked. The man was quiet for a painstakingly long half a minute before answering me.

"It's too early to tell. The effects of shock are just as life-threateningly dangerous than an actual injury most of the time. We have doctors doing everything they can, but nobody knows. We'll find out soon."

I sobbed and curled into Jon's side, clutching his shirt and holding him as he held me just as tightly. He put both arms around me and pulled me close, shutting his eyes tightly as if it were all a dream. We stayed like that for the whole 20 minute drive, finding solace in each other, each in danger of losing someone we love dearly and both fragile, on the verge of breaking.

As we pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, we were both out of the car before it even completely stopped. We rushed into the big building and as soon as we were in, we were shouting Jace and Clary's names. The receptionist and some of the nurses tried to calm us down, but we were both in hysterics.

"I need to know if my little sister is okay. I need to know that she'll live." Jon's voice turned to a pleading beg, "Please, just tell me she'll live."

The nurses looked uncertain.

"We're doing everything we can, but the best we can tell you right now is that there is a 75% chance she'll live, which is a relatively good statistic." Jon's face didn't relax, but I could see in his eyes that it eased his conscience a little.

"What about Jace?"

"He is undergoing emergency surgery right now, but he was in bad shape. We still don't know if he'll make it or not." I was crushed. Jon must've seen it because he put his arm around me again.

"Can we see Clary?"

"She's still unconscious, but yes, you may visit."

Jon and I walked down the corridor until we came to the room the nurse had informed us would be Clary's. We opened the door to a small red head laying the bed. Her eyes were shut, but her pupils would move every so often with a whisper of a dream to the outside world. After a minute of staring at her fragile state, Jon slowly made his way to sat down beside her and stroke her hair.

"I'm so sorry Clary. I couldn't protect you like I said I would. You have every right to hate me again, but please know that I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. And I know I did. I hate myself every day for it." I sat by him and it was my turn to put my arm around him. He turned his head into my shoulder and I could feel a few tears slide out.

I wished I could say something, but I was all choked up at watching my best friend lay motionless, yet alive, on a hospital bed with her brother crying over her.

I just hoped that at the end of the day, I would have my brother, alive, to cry over.