As Jonathan stood back against the cellar wall and watched his father carve into his brother with a righteous expression on his face, he couldn't help but feel…uneasy.

With every minute that dragged by and the deeper his father cut Jace, Jonathan felt more and more like he was witnessing the torturing of an angel.

Sure, Jace deserved to be punished for rebelling against their father…but this seemed…cruel.

He saw that as the demon blood entered his blood and burned him, Jace's muscles clenched with tremors and he pulled at the unyielding leather straps that bound his wrists down to the table, but for all his struggling, only succeeded in leaving bracelets of rubbed raw skin.

When the timer beeped the halfway mark, his father seemed to up the ante; now slowly running over the same cuts again with increased pressure and more burning poison.

And Jace, stoic, sarcastic, 'Hit me again but like you mean it this time,' Jace, who had once laughed when Jonathan had broken his ribs…actually had visible tears of pain in his strange golden eyes.

Every once in awhile, a shuddering gasp slipped past Jace's clenched teeth and his eyes squeezed shut against the agony that was being inflicted upon him and all that Jonathan could think was…this is wrong. No father should be able to do this to their son…

Valentine, seeing that there was only a few minutes left on the timer, pressed down on the blade harder, knowing that he was wearing down both boys' endurance. Jace's skin made a soft ripping sound as the steel of the blade parted through it and blood rolled down his stomach as a pained groan, the loudest yet, came from the boy's throat. Not long now…

Jace clenched his fists together, nails digging into the flesh of his palms, and turned his face away from the grin he saw stretched across his father's face.

Valentine saw Jonathan shift restlessly against the wall out of the corner of his eye, crossing and uncrossing his arms, and while Jace was facing his brother, Valentine dipped the knife in more poison and slid the razor sharp edge up along the tight skin of Jace's ribs.

Jonathan cringed and looked away from his brother's face, wishing that he could erase the look of pain that was now burned into his mind, and not truly believing that he had just heard Jace scream out like that…

As Valentine dipped the knife again with a slightly amused expression, Jace watched him warily, panting lightly like he had been running. His father lowered the blade to his ribs again and Jace squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, bracing himself for the burning pain and willing himself to remain silent even though he knew he wouldn't be able to…

"Father, stop."

Jace's eyes flickered open. Jonathan had come away from the wall and was now staring at the side of Valentine's face with hard eyes. Valentine pulled the blade away from Jace slightly, who seemed to feel its absence from his skin more assuredly then he could feel gravity.

Valentine tilted his head towards Jonathan and looked at him through slightly hooded eyes.

In the extreme silence of the room, all that could be heard was Jace's pained breathing.

"Come again?" Valentine asked quietly. Jonathan faltered slightly, his eyes becoming unfocused only for a second.

"Enough. I think he's learned his lesson."

Somehow, Jace felt a flicker of surprise that was immediately followed by even more surprise. That he could still feel something other than agony was incredible to him. He blinked wearily as his father turned to look down at him with a studious look on his unlined face.

"Oh I don't doubt that he has." he said after a moment of observing the damage he had inflicted on his youngest son and the toll it had taken on his spirit.

Jace's eyes no longer held that sparkle of stubborn rebelliousness that so enraged him. All that Valentine could read in them was pain and exhaustion.

Valentine looked down at the knife still held lightly in his hand, the edge still wet with Jace's blood and demon poison; the two had combined to make a sickly purple-black color.

"The question is…have you?"

Valentine turned to look at him, black eyes boring into identical black eyes.

Jonathan stood frozen, unable to look away but feeling sudden, paralyzing trepidation pumping through his veins that made an icy sweat break out at his temples.

"Come here." Valentine said in his softest, 'you don't have a choice', tone that promised retribution if ignored.

Jonathan crossed to his side, still unable to draw his eyes away from his father's glinting obsidian stare. Valentine finally broke the chest crushing connection to flick his eyes back down at the knife in his hand.

Jonathan followed his gaze, trying hard to not look past it at the deep, bloody cuts that rent Jace's chest and stomach. Valentine turned the knife and offered it to his eldest son, handle first.

"Take it," he said with the same soft, demanding tone. "And cut him. Just a little."

Jonathan glanced up at his face quickly, horror making him appear innocent like he never had before. Valentine stared into the black depths of his eyes, appealing to the darkness he knew was inside of him.

"Are you really about to disobey me, Jonathan? Now that you've seen the consequences?" he murmured.

Jonathan's hand reached out and he took the knife from him, his eyes never leaving Valentine's.

On the table, Jace was willing Jonathan to break free with everything he had inside him. He was strong; he could do it.

As Jonathan turned away from him with a slightly confused look, Valentine glanced down and into Jace's eyes, pleased to see a small flicker of light back in them. Despite everything, Jace had hope for his big brother. He believed in him.

Jace looked away from Jonathan and directly up into his father's cold stare.

Some of the defiance slipped back into his expression as he stared back at him and Valentine couldn't help but enjoy it; the way one enjoys seeing a rare event like an eclipse or a shooting star, knowing that they probably won't ever see it again…at least not for a long time.

Still meeting Jace's eyes, Valentine tilted his head towards Jonathan. "On the ribs would be good." he said with a small smile.

Jace gave him a glare that could kill birds in mid-flight, and Valentine smiled even more.

Ah Angel Boy, you should know better than to play tug of war with me over him…he said to him with his eyes.

Jace glanced away from him at Jonathan, who had lowered the edge of the blade to his skin, a frown still pulling at his too handsome face. Jace looked down at the knife, drawing in a quiet breath as he clenched his hands into fists once more.

As Jonathan lightly pressed down on the blade and dragged it across Jace's ribs, Jace couldn't stop the loud groan that rumbled in his throat at the burning hot pain that seemed to set his skin on fire. Blood trickled down Jace's ribcage and he dropped his head back on the table, his eyes squeezed shut as he drew in a pained breath through his teeth; the cut now at the bubbling stage.

Jonathan's vision swam and the bleeding cuts on Jace's side became blurry, the red of his blood the only thing really visible.

Jonathan saw his hand with the knife in it move back to Jace's skin, felt himself apply more pressure, and trace a long line down the length of his side, feeling as emotionless as he would be if he was merely drawing in the sand with a stick.

Jace's tortured yell echoed in the small room and the sound of it made Jonathan flick his dark eyes up to Jace's face.

Jace stared up at the ceiling and bit down on his bottom lip, a tear trickling out of the corner of his eye and running down the side of his face and into his hair.

Jonathan tilted his head to the side and watched him lie there, panting with the effort it took to hold back the sounds of his pain. Jace, feeling Jonathan watching him, felt his face harden as he glared up at the ceiling like it was the one cutting him.

Jonathan felt himself turn and dip the blade into the jar of demon poison before once again bringing it to the long cut that ran down his brother's side. He pulled the blade down the cut, making it deeper, hearing skin tear before Jace's screams drowned it out completely.

This time, Jonathan felt something. Seeing Jace's abdomen clench and contract against the pain, seeing him yank thoughtlessly at the straps holding his arms down, and seeing his body pull away from the weapon held in his hand made him feel…something.

Jace turned his face towards Jonathan's just as the timer went off, signaling the end of his twenty minutes of punishment. Jace saw Jonathan's hand tighten on the handle of the knife.

"Jonathan, stop." his voice came out raspy and low from screaming.

He swallowed, feeling like someone had choked him with sandpaper. Jonathan looked up, meeting his eyes and Jace felt like he was staring into two empty black holes; his brother clearly was not there.

"Please."

Jonathan leaned forward with his hands on the table, the black eyes running over Jace's face almost lovingly.

"Why?" he asked softly. His little brother stared up at him, confusion making him look so young.

Jace wished he could find it in him to be sarcastic because he knew that it would make this situation better somehow, but he just couldn't find it because the look on his brother's face was making it impossible.

"Does it hurt you, Angel Boy?" Jonathan murmured to him, his tone mocking, his eyes now glinting with malice as the smallest of smiles pulled playfully at his lips.

Jace couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.

He tore his eyes away from his brother's cruel expression, feeling a crushing betrayal in his chest that he knew he never should have let himself fall victim to in the first place.

His eyes fell on his father. He watched with a feeling of nausea as Valentine's expression morphed slowly into one of cruel amusement and superiority.

This was all just a game to him…although his father would call it a lesson.

There were things that Valentine meant for him to learn through this experience. And what were these things?

One: He was in fact a soldier, and when soldiers stepped out of line…they were forcibly put back.

Two: Mutiny and rebellion only piss off the commander.

And Three: A demon cannot be persuaded to become an angel just because you really really want him to. It just isn't in their nature.

As Valentine stared into Jace's eyes, he couldn't help but feel atrocious pleasure at the dead, slightly horrified look in them. It would be a long time before anything lit them up again…

And as Jace looked away from his father back to his brother, who had turned to silence the timer with a look of annoyance and impatience, he realized there was even more to the lesson than he had thought.

His father had known that Jonathan wouldn't be able to resist hurting Jace like this…not after years of setting them against each other and making him hate Jace. He also knew that Jonathan wouldn't care about time limits once he started to have fun…

As the two members of his family turned to look down at him, his brother holding the freshly poisoned blade, with matching cruel smiles and glinting black eyes making them look eerily and unnaturally identical, Jace realized the most important lesson that his father had wanted to teach him….this house was his Hell, and in it he was absolutely and inescapably alone.