Clary, for the first time in a long time, had a few hours of peace and quiet Sunday night after the nightmare earlier that weekend. Once everything had calmed she was able to stop worrying and relax with the one guy that made her feel at home more than everyone else.

It was perfect. Her dad wouldn't make any unexpected appearances. Jonathan wouldn't dare make a guest appearance without getting his face beat in. Sebastian said he was too busy to visit. Max was with his parents, and Alec was still in the hospital surrounded by Magnus. Simon and Isabelle had spent the whole weekend together, so Clary didn't mind having some peace and quiet. Those two weren't coming back anytime soon, and Clary welcomed the privacy with open arms.

The sun was setting outside Jace's window, slowly encasing the room in darkness. Since dinner, all they'd done is come back to his room, turn on the TV, and cuddle. Clary didn't mind it, but something was nagging at her.

Naturally, it was the words that she'd been wanting to say but couldn't bring herself to do it. The simplest words were so complicated for her, and she couldn't understand it. Three words. That's all it took. Isabelle said it was hurting Jace that she couldn't say it, and that worried her. All she wanted was to tell him that he was the most important thing in her life, that she'd do anything for him, that she'd… that she… loved him. It was so much easier thinking it, not saying it. Articulating something that meant so much was terrifying. What if she ended up hurting him? What if she did something to make him question it? Like her family did. What if she was really just like them or didn't even know what love is?

She felt lips press against her temple, one arm snaking around her stomach and pulling her closer to Jace's warm, bare torso. "You've been quiet," he whispered her in her hair.

"Sorry."

"Is everything okay?"

She nodded, turning her body into Jace's and snuggling her face in his neck. He always smelled delightful, like sunshine, fresh cut grass, cologne. It was everything that intoxicated her.

He started rubbing circles on the spot by her hip where her tank top rose up. "You don't seem like it. Are you thinking about your dad?"

She shook her head no.

"Your mom?"

Once again, Clary shook her head, refusing to let him look at her.

Jace wasn't having it apparently, because his hands released his body from her grip and he pulled back, grabbing her chin to force her gaze to his. He studied her for a moment, just staring at her. There was so much in his gaze: admiration, care, confusion but most of all, she saw what she was scared of. She saw the love that he felt for her. The love that she wanted but couldn't express.

"Jace, can I ask you something?"

"Absolutely."

She reached up with her hand, touching his cheek lightly and trailing designed all across his face, neck, and torso. "How do you know what love is?"

His eyes widened. "What?"

"You said you love me, but I don't even know what love is. I don't know what it means, and I think that's my problem. That's what's wrong with me."

Jace was quiet for a while, the only sound in the room coming from the TV. Clary was barely breathing, waiting for his answer and feeling the concern grow in her stomach and chest. What if he didn't say what she felt? What if she didn't know how to feel what he felt? What if his answer was completely different and didn't make sense to her?

He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. Her eyes threatened to close to take in the feel of his skin on hers. No words were spoken for the longest time. Clary's arms just made their way around his neck and rolled him on top of her. He continued to trace her skin softly. The callouses on his hands made it feel rough and soft at the same time.

"There's not a thing wrong with you, baby," he said softly, sealing his words with a kiss to her lips. "Not a damn thing. You're perfect."

"But I still can't say it."

"Would it help if I tell you why I said it so early?"

She bit her lip, looking up at the golden eyes that she knew so well. The answer was obviously yes, but she couldn't say it. What was wrong with her? She normally just said what came to her with no filter. That had been her whole life! So why was she suddenly questioning and thinking about everything now?

"I know what it's like to lose somebody," Jace started. "I know what it's like to feel like you didn't do enough, didn't say enough. I told my parents that I loved them all the time, and even after my seventeen years of living, it doesn't feel like I got my point across. I always feel like I should've done more. So when I realized that I loved you, I wasn't about to waste any time. I could lose you any second for any number of reasons, and I didn't want you to leave me without knowing that I've loved you since that first kiss. That you made me trust you with every fiber of my being. That I want you so bad that it hurts. Those few days that you separated us were torture for me, and I never wanted you to doubt that I love you after that. Sure, it slipped out accidentally before I meant it to, but that's just how I was meant to tell you I guess. I just never want you to question it."

"It's not that I don't believe you. I just don't understand it."

"What confuses you?"

She sighed, dropping her hands from around his neck to her hair, pulling at the strands with a frustration. "I don't get what it means. I don't know what it means to really, truly love somebody."

Jace looked a bit unsure about how to go on after that. "I guess it really depends on who the person is."

"What do you mean?"

Jace rolled to the side, not off of Clary but enough so he didn't have to strain himself by not squishing her. "The way you might love a love interest is different from the way you love your family or friends."

Clary dropped her hands behind her head, feeling suddenly exhausted. "I don't even know if I love even my mother at this point. I thought I did, thought I still do, but I don't know now. I have it in my head that if you love something, you destroys it. I don't know how to love anyone anymore."

"I think you do." Jace touched his forehead to hers, his hair brushing against her forehead and the feel of his skin causing her to shiver. "You're just not good at saying it."

She closed her eyes at his nearness, breathing it in. "Which is a surprise for once. I'm always the first to say what's on my mind. Talk first. Think later."

Jace shrugged. "People change."

"Not that drastically."

"Yes they do," he shot back and pulled his head from hers, their gazes meeting. "You've changed me into someone I didn't know how to be. I went from a monster with no feelings to someone who didn't even know it was possible to love this much. Isabelle is suddenly hanging out Simon Lewis of all people. Alec is suddenly brave enough to stand up to his parents." He touched the necklace hanging from her neck, the C between her collar bones taking his full attention. "And you've changed in your own ways."

Clary closed her eyes against, tilting her head back against the pillows of his bed and trying to relax. "But I thought that you shouldn't change for people you love. If they don't love you for who you are, then they weren't supposed to be with you in the first place, right?"

Jace chuckled, vibrating the bed. "Did you get that morality lesson from an inspiring Twitter picture?"

She opened her eyes and gave him a stern look.

"Sorry. But I'm not saying you have to change, but people can change you for the better. No one stays the same forever. Things happen in their life that makes them turn into different people."

That was more than true. She definitely wasn't the same girl that she was a few years ago, but she wasn't sure who she really was. She could change more and more as she grew, right? So what did that mean? Would Jace still love her if she changed too much?

"Stop thinking so much about it," Jace insisted. "You look like you're giving yourself a migraine."

"I just wish it made sense to me."

"You can't think of love like something that has a right answer."

"Then how am I supposed to think about it?"

"You don't. It's something that just happens." Jace reached down, grabbed her hand, and placed it on his bare chest over his heart. She felt it beating against his skin, the rhythm like music to her ears. "Like how this beats for you now, Clary. Only you. I didn't mean to give it to you, but I did. I just happened on its own accord, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do to stop it."

"But–"

"Stop." He pressed his hand to lips. Her own stayed on his chest, her eyes staring at the place where their skin heated each other. "You need to understand that I'll love you for different reasons that you may or may not love me. I don't want you to feel bad because you're scarred like I am. I don't blame you, Clary. I love you."

The hurt in his eyes when he said 'may not love me' was something that Clary couldn't have missed. She hated the fact that she put the doubt in his head, especially when he was adamant on making her believe the words she so desperately wanted to say.

"I just wish things were easier."

He shrugged and that smile that she wished she could look at for days on end showed up again. "I don't care how hard things are as long as you're with me."

She didn't know what to say, so she did the only thing that she could think of. She wrapped one hand in his hair and pulled, bringing his mouth to hers. Their lips pressed together softly, slowly, which was different compared to how they normally kissed. But this was sweet and she wanted to savor it. She wanted it to last forever. But it wasn't three seconds after they started when her phone started ringing.

Jace made an annoyed sound into her lips, kissing her harder when she tried to pull away. Her mind was fogging up quicker than she'd like to admit with the way he kissed, held, and touched her, and all she wanted was more. More kissing. More touching. More of him.

After a few moments when neither of them tried to get the phone, it eventually stopped ringing. She was glad. The only thing she was focused on was him. Her hands ran up and down his torso, taking in every curve and every bit of muscle she could reach. Someday she'd have him memorized. She wanted to know every part of him inside and out: the great, the good, the bad, the ugly, the muscle, the curve of his body, the shape of his lips, the shades of his eyes. Everything.

Jace had moved back on top of her, kissing down her neck and across her collarbones. It felt amazing. He knew just how to hold her and touch her gently, giving her goose bumps and making her stomach do flips. As always, a few kisses and a few touches had her disheveled and wanting more.

But her stupid phone started up again. Jace froze above her the second time, his head pressing against her chest as they both tried to catch their breath.

"I guess – I think I should–"

Jace nodded. "Yeah."

But neither moved. Clary tugged against his hair, pulling his face up. "You have to get off of me, Jace."

His eyes were closed. His mouth was open. It was obvious he didn't want to, which made her more than happy, but he eventually slid off and down to the sheets, looking like a hot mess that she could probably guess she was very similar to.

Without another word, she reached for her phone on the dresser and answered without even checking who called. "Yeah?"

"We need to have a talk."

Clary shot up in bed, her eyes going wide and her heart racing for totally different reasons. "Dad." It wasn't a question. It wasn't a statement. It was more of pronouncing an inevitable end to a wonderful day that couldn't last forever.

Jace was up and next to her in a moment's notice, staring at her with questions in his eyes.

"Come to the hospital."

"What for?"

"I'll tell you when you get here. You have thirty minutes."

"But–"

"Don't be late."

Then he was gone, the dial tone buzzing her ear.

Jace's hands pulled her to him as soon as she dropped the phone to the bed. She limply let him take her in his arms, burying her face in his neck once again as a bad feeling settled in her stomach.

"So I guess our day alone is over."

She nodded, wanting to personally kill her father at that moment.

"Am I going to be allowed to come with you?"

Clary slowly pulled back. "Jace, you know that you can't."

He sighed. "I know."

"I'm sorry. I have to do this on my own."

"But it's your dad. Your abusive, crazy ass father. And I'm feeling selfish and don't want you to leave my side."

Even though she knew and understood exactly where he was coming from, it didn't stop the fact that he couldn't go. She leaned in slowly, pressing her lips to his. He kissed back hesitantly but eventually gave in to making it realer and deeper before she slowly and reluctantly pulled away.

"If it's any consolation, I wish you could go."

Jace nodded, kissing her cheek, her nose, and then her lips one more time. "That's what I get for dating someone so stubborn and independent, right?"

"Now you're starting to learn."

The slow, deep breaths weren't very calming as Clary walked through the hospital. She felt an overwhelming need to run, and no matter what she did it wouldn't go away. Even though she knew she had to hear what her father had to say, she also knew that the only place she wanted to be was back in Jace's arms. That's where she belonged. Not here. Not now.

But she had no choice. Her father would track her down if she didn't show to hear him out, and that's the last thing she needed. Because more than likely, he'd find her. The proof was all over her newly discovered basement that had her life plastered to a wall. There was no escaping him.

She approached the room with a body guard standing on the outside of a door, looking bored. With a nod to her, he stepped aside and opened the door, letting her through and closing it behind her.

"About time you showed up."

Clary gazed around the room, finding her brother at the foot of their father's bed. He was looking at her with a look of so many different emotions that she could barely decipher anything other than a bit of hatred and annoyance. The white clothing and jeans really didn't fit his dark personality at all now that she thought about it.

Her gaze moved to her father's. He regarded her with curiosity, arrogance, and authority and she found herself wishing she was anywhere but under his heavy gaze. Even tucked in a white hospital bed with messy hair and tired eyes, he was still quiet the intimidating factor.

He raised his hand and waved her over. "Come here." She did, slowly letting her feet carry her to stand beside Jonathan. Valentine looked at both of them, his gaze jumping from one to another. Finally, it stopped on Clary, his head cocking to the side. "What is that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Instinctively she knew exactly what he was looking at. She tried to cover it up, but Isabelle's make up can only do so much. If only Jace wasn't so keen on making a point earlier that morning…

Valentine pointed. "That."

Jonathan leaned forward, inspecting her neck with a gaze that made her more than little uncomfortable. "It's a hickey," he announced with disgust and rage. His hands gripped the bed before him. "That bastard."

"Jonathan," Valentine warned.

"I'm going to kill him."

"You're not going to touch him," Clary shot back. "Over my dead body."

Jonathan looked away, staring at the sheets. "Why do you even let him touch you like that? He doesn't deserve any of it. He doesn't deserve you."

"Yes, he does. It's the two of you that don't deserve me, yet here I am." She glared at both of them with everything she had. "So let's get this over with so I can go back to my boyfriend."

"Very well." Valentine slowly pulled himself to a sitting position, looking to be in pain. The very thought made Clary amused and extremely satisfied. She was proud of Luke. Extremely proud. "I have some things to discuss with you two."

"Like what?" Jonathan asked.

"You're mother." Valentine paused, looking directly at Clary. "And the discussion of bringing you back home."

Clary sighed, gripping the bed before her. "I'm not coming back."

"You're not eighteen, Clary. I can make you come home."

"Then why didn't you do that for the past month? If you wanted me back to begin with, you would've dragged me home. You don't want me there anymore than I want to be there. I've been fine with the Lightwood family, as you probably know."

Jonathan shot her a look. She shrugged it off, not caring if she sounded like she knew something. She did. They both did. And she didn't care if her dad found out about them sneaking around.

Valentine nodded. "That is true. They've been very kind to you, something I haven't been lately. I wanted to say that I'm sorry for that."

Clary recoiled. "Come again?"

"I'm sorry. I really am. I've been a shitty father since your mother left, since she and I started to grow apart. The alcohol didn't help either, and I realize that I might be at fault for certain things that have happened to pull our family apart."

Silence. Jonathan must have been as stunned as Clary was, because they both just kind of stared like deer in headlights with their mouth open. Never in her wildest dreams would a day like this come, and now that it has she didn't know what to say.

"What are you trying to do, father?" Jonathan demanded, leaning forward and looking menacing. "What's your plan?"

"I told you. I want Clary and your mother back home."

"No you don't," Jonathan shot back. "You couldn't give two shits about my sister, so what are you really trying to do?"

For the first time in a long time, Jonathan sounded like he was actually standing up for Clary like he did when they were little. She gave him a sideways glance, not sure what to say but unable to hide any feelings about it.

"First of all, I love your sister. Second, are you sure you really want to know?" Valentine sat a bit straighter, looking dangerous and pissed off even in his hospital get up and white sheets. "Because I know what you two are up to."

Clary's stomach dropped a thousand feet.

"You think I don't have security in my office," he continued, "But I saw everything." His eyes drifted to Clary's worried and frightened ones. "I need you two home to keep an eye on you, because you obvious are too curious to be out on your own. I'll be damned if you get in the way of me bringing your mother back because you couldn't keep your nose out of other people's business. And if that's the case, and I can make your life hell reassuring me that you won't do it again."

Images of the past flashed through her mind. The beatings, the yelling, the demands, the bruises.

Clary's hands tightened on the bed frame. "Are you threatening us?"

Valentine smiled. "Not so much you two, but I'd keep a watchful eye on your love interests if you keep interfering."

"What?" Jonathan and Clary both yelled at the same time.

Jonathan continued before she could. "You dare lay a finger on her, and I'll personally cut it off."

"Don't be so dramatic, Jonathan."

"I'm being serious. Not dramatic."

"And don't even get me started on Jace," Clary added with a surprisingly more threatening tone than Jonathan's. "You don't want to know what I would do to you. I will personally tear you apart."

Valentine looked extremely annoyed. "Young love… You two are so ignorant to how weak it really is. You don't care for them as much as you think you do."

"I wouldn't test that theory if I were you," Jonathan shot back.

"I will if I have to. Just do what I say and Jace and Kaelie won't have any harm come to them."

Clary knew that it was a bad idea, that her father was probably playing them somehow, but she asked it anyway. "So, what is it you want us to do?"

The whole dealing with her father really had Clary thrown off when she exited his hospital room. She felt like her body was just going through the motions, one step after another while she just stared at the ground.

Jonathan blew past her without a word, bumping into her and practically running towards the door. Out of the two of them, he was definitely the more pissed off, and just by his walk anyone in the world could tell. It looked like if someone gave him the wrong look, he'd probably break them into two. Clary on the other hand was still trying to comprehend what the hell was happening and was too shocked to be angry yet.

"Clary?"

She turned, using the wall to keep her upright when Luke appeared out of Jocelyn's room. Same old Luke as always. Rough looking beard and hair, glasses, older clothes and the kindest look in his blue eyes.

She smiled when she saw him, despite the terrible feeling in her gut. "Hi."

"You look a bit shaken up."

She looked down the hall to her father's room, basically answering Luke's question. "Yeah."

Luke followed her gaze, looking over his shoulder to the door she just came through and nodded solemnly. "I see." He turned back to her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No offense, Luke, but I can barely keep my head on straight. Talking isn't something I want to do right now."

He nodded slowly. "I understand." He lifted his hand, rubbing the back of his neck and that's when Clary noticed it. So it was true. On his arm was a black cast.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, pointing to the fairly new injury.

Luke dropped his hand, looking down at it. "Could be worse I guess. I have a pretty high pain tolerance, but luckily Valentine could've done worse."

"I'm sorry my father is so… impulsive."

"It's not something you need to apologize for." He stepped aside, pointing to her mother's room. "I knew what I was doing when I called Michael."

"Can I ask you something about that?"

Luke nodded, taking a step forward until he stood only a few feet from her, looking down at her as he leaned against the wall.

This wasn't exactly the easiest thing for her to talk about. Her mother was a sensitive subject, along with talking to Luke about it. The fact that he could potentially be her step father at some point wasn't an easy thing to wrap her mind around. Not to mention her father didn't make it any easier, and neither did Michael.

Michael. That was the confusing part. "What does Michael Wayland have to do with anything that involves my mother?"

Luke looked a bit thrown off by the question. "Michael and your father have always hated each other. They battled it out in football in high school, playing for rival schools. Michael was at East and Valentine was at North, so it was natural that they hated each other. But it wasn't good enough to best each other in football."

Luke paused, giving Clary time to think. It didn't take long to figure out the rest. "So… my mom was the girl that they fought over?"

"Exactly," Luke answered with a nod. "Valentine won in the end, obviously. Well, technically, I won in the end." He chuckled slightly, and Clary actually found herself smiling a bit as well.

If her mother ended up with anyone, she was actually kind of glad it was someone like Luke.

"But anyway, Michael and I have been friends for a while as well. We met outside of high school when I moved here, and we became friends. He was okay with the fact I married Jocelyn, regardless of his feelings for her back in the day. Turns out, he didn't actually love her like that. He cares about her, but he doesn't feel the way I do. He only wants to best Valentine."

"I don't blame him. My dad is a prick."

"But that's why I called him when your family showed up the other night. I knew he'd help me stand between Valentine and Jocelyn."

Clary turned her back to the wall and used it to hold her up completely. She was starting to feel exhausted. "I guess I really should be thanking him then."

"Maybe a little bit."

They were both quiet for a moment, listening to the beeping monitors and the sounds of nurses talking. It wasn't calming in the slightest, but she was grateful for the lack of communication directed her way for once.

"You can see her if you want."

Clary froze at the thought. The last time she saw her mother wasn't exactly a pleasant experience. Especially after everything her father just threw at her, the idea was quiet horrifying. She wasn't sure she was ready for something like that. Yes, she wanted to see her mother, but that woman also abandoned her.

"I think I should actually just get home," she finally announced, pointing behind her. "Jace has to be freaking out by now."

Luke, although he looked quite disappointed, nodded. "Sometimes I forget how protective he is over you. He's so different from the one I used to know."

Clary nodded, remembering the time he came into the bookstore when she first met him. He was more demanding, and Luke looked like he was ready for any confrontation back then. Lord knows what Jace would've done, could've done, maybe what he has done in the past. She wrapped her arms around her torso, thinking back on how much he's changed. Could she really be the reason for it?

"I don't worry when he comes around anymore," Luke continued. "In fact, I feel better if he's around."

Clary shot her eyes to Luke. "Really?"

"He's a strong kid, a dangerous one when in the wrong hands but still strong. As long as I'm on your team, he's on mine," Luke said with a wink. "That means, I have a Herondale, a Wayland, a Morgenstern, and the Lightwoods."

"Kind of like the dream team?"

"Kind of," he confirmed, a smile on his face and a glint in his eyes. The slowly faded though, and he dropped his head. "I know your father is up to something, but I promise that I'll do everything I can to keep you safe, Clary. You and all your friends. Even your brother."

Clary nodded, knowing it wasn't really up to Luke. "Thanks," she said meekly, pushing off the wall. "I really should be going though."

He nodded, looking back at Jocelyn's room for the tenth time. "Of course. Can I at least walk you out?"

"I'd like that," she said honestly, following Luke down the hall.

Jace ran as fast as he could, using all of his strength to make it to the end line before the stupid whistle blew again. His legs and arms were pumping with pain, but just as he stepped over he heard that sound, and collapsed to the floor with a thud.

His hair was matted to his forehead, his chest heaving, his body aching, his entire being wanting to lie there and never move. The sun beat down on him with every passing second and suddenly disappeared when Michael stopped next to him.

"That's twenty," Jace's legal guardian announced, bending down to hand him a water bottle. "Not bad."

Without a word, Jace took the water and immediately started drinking, letting the feel of the liquid calm his racing heart.

"Need anything else?" Jace shook his head. "Alright, I'll be heading to the airport soon, so you're on your own at the house. Your card has cash if you need anything. Try not to be reckless while I'm gone."

"Thanks, Michael. Have a... a safe trip," Jace breathed out, sounding physically tired and exhausted, and just lied there as Michael walked off.

Today had to be the worst, by far. The workout hadn't changed, but his mind was so scattered that he actually struggled with the physical stuff. With the lack of sleep, the mental capacity of everything bearing down on his lately, and his constant worry for Clary was starting to take its toll. It wasn't easy caring about people, and he didn't understand how compassionate people do it.

After everything that Clary told him last night after meeting her father, he knew that nothing good was going to come of it. She was hiding something, something big that she refused to tell him but he didn't want to push it. It was obvious. She wasn't the touchy, cute, hardcore girlfriend she always was. Instead, she told him the gist of what happened without emotion and fell asleep in his arms ten minutes later.

Whatever Valentine said really got to her.

Jace wanted nothing but to go that sickening hospital and clock the man upside the head with a wrench, but he couldn't. That's what made this so difficult for him. There wasn't anything he could do to help Clary. Nothing! Assaulting her father would make it worse. Her mother couldn't be brought back with his help. And it was obvious last night that his presence wasn't exactly easing the tension in her body. He was pretty much useless.

Useless. One of many things he feared of being, he was. For the first time, the world around him wouldn't change no matter how hard he tried. Like a breeze, he just came through without changing anything. He couldn't change a single, damn thing. He couldn't help her.

Jace slowly sat up, pulling his drenched shirt over his head and using it to wipe the sweat falling down his face. This was all he could do to help. Instead of hurting people, the only thing he could do was workout with Michael until he was blue in the face and collapsing on the ground.

Slower than he'd like to admit, he made his way over the bench where his bag was. He pulled his phone out and gasped, the notifications staring at him.

Twelve missed calls from Assisted Living.

Twelve. Assisted Living called twelve times.

That only happened when real shit went down.

His eyes widened when the realization of what might have happened hit him like fucking freight train. Nana. His only family. His grandmother. There's so much that could've happened!

He immediately dialed the number, gathering his stuff and moving as fast as he could to his car. It took a few times of calling, but he finally got someone on the line as he slid into the front door of his truck.

"Hello, Assisted Living, how can I–"

"My name is Jace Herondale. I want to speak to Imogen Herondale." His tone was forceful and harsh, turning the key in the ignition a little too hard. The truck stirred to life loud and noisy.

The woman on the other line seemed to gasp in surprise. "Oh, God. You're the kid they've been trying to call."

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and nailed the gas as hard as he could, causing tire tracks on the pavement as he pealed out of the parking lot. "Yeah. What the fuck is going on?"

"How far away are you, Jace?"

"Just tell me what's going on!"

The woman sighed. The short moment she was silent felt like an eternity to him. "It's… it's not good. You need to get here as soon as possible. Your grandmother was having some problems–"

He gritted his teeth. "Woman, just spit it out!"

All he caught was "heart attack" before Jace hung up the phone, throwing it to the passenger seat and stepping on the gas.

Clary sighed, scrolling silently and quietly up and down the computer screen, reading passage after passage that didn't give her any more needed insight.

Nothing was really helpful. The medical websites were just basics, how to identify this and that, but nothing about them was helping. She wasn't even sure why she wanted to know, but she'd been thinking about helping her mother more and more lately. Things might be easier if she had an older mother figure, someone to talk to about her problems with. And even though she knew it was ridiculous, she needed someone unbiased to talk to when Jace came up, because Isabelle was too adamant and everyone else had too many raw feelings to help at all.

After thirty minutes of reading up about random medical facts, she gave up. Her body slumped in her seat, looking annoyed and frustrated.

"Nothing?" Maia asked when she appeared over her shoulder.

Clary shook her head, staring at the useless website. "It's all a bunch of crap. I don't need to know shit like the symptoms. It's already happened so it's useless"

"Well, Clary, you're not going to be able to fix it on your own, you know. I doubt they'd have medical procedures up anyway. Plus, strokes, comas, and heart attacks are probably too complicated to just have instructions to fix."

"Sometimes, it's not even fixable," Simon added, stepping up beside Maia. "You just have to wait it out and see what happens."

Clary rolled her eyes, leaning forward and mindlessly looking over the words. "Is this supposed to make me feel better?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's not, Simon."

"Sorry, we'll leave then," he muttered, squeezing her shoulder slightly to show he wasn't upset and ushered Maia away.

Clary didn't mean to sound so angry and upset, but she couldn't help it. All she wanted was to get rid of her father, to stop having him hover over her and to have a family. A normal family. A normal life. But everything about her made it impossible.

Some weird force in her head told her that her mother could make it happen. It was so unlikely, implausible, probably even stupid but her little sixteen year old heart held some kind of weird hope for it. Maybe, just maybe, her mother might be able to turn her world around and make it how it should be. She a boyfriend. She had the friends. She needed the family, the final piece that she craved and didn't even know it.

That was all she got to think on it before all hell broke loose. There was a loud crash, and Clary turned just in time to see a drastic, frightened, wide-eyed Simon burst through the back door and into the big library. He was pale white, whiter than usual.

Clary jumped to her feet, rushing over to him. "Simon?"

He stared at her like she grew a third head, unable to speak or move. It was like he wanted to, his mouth was open like he wanted to, but nothing was coming out.

Tentatively, Clary stepped forward when she noticed his phone in his hand by his side. Isabelle's names was on the screen. Clary slowly reached for it. He handed it to her, still too shocked to say anything.

The first thing she heard was the tears. Nothing but cries of pain and anguish. Clary's heart contracted. "Isabelle?"

"Cl – Clary?" her friend barely breathed through the receiver.

"Yeah, it's me. What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Well, no. No I'm not." She broke out a bit more, unable to talk and Clary unable to get a word in. "It's – its Ja – Jace."

"What happened?" Clary squeezed the phone tighter in her grip, her heart pounding and worry settling in the pit of her stomach. Isabelle still couldn't answer, having trouble talking or speaking. "Isabelle!" she screamed impatiently. "Isabelle, tell me what's going on!"

"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!" Clary heard in the background. There was the sound of shattering glass, and she winced at the force that was behind it. But that voice was obvious. It was Jace. "DAMMIT! DAMMIT! DAMMIT!"

And he was obviously out of control.

"Isabelle, where are you?"

"I – I can't–"

"Isabelle!"

"Assisted Living," she finally answered, screaming in shock when Jace probably did something else insanely dangerous and hurtful. "Clary, please hurry."

She sounded like a frightened child, and Clary knew she couldn't wait. She gave a numb and quiet Simon his phone immediately, grabbing her bike keys and sprinting out the door. She just made it to her bike when an idea hit her. As quickly as possible, she whipped her phone out, hoping he would answer.

"Hello?"

"Don't ask questions. Just listen. I need your help."

So, shit just got real. Whoa. As many of you have probably anticipated, something was bound to happen with Imogen eventually. What will happen to her? I'm not revealing it yet. Sorry! Don't hate me! It'll get better for Jace eventually. I promise!

As for him and Clary, the most anticipated scene for those two will be coming soon! :) You know what I mean. Get ready for it and I hope you guys like it. I want to do it justice.

Anyway, stay tuned and feel free review in order to guess who may be coming to the rescue due to Clary's call! You got plenty of choices, so let me see em!