A/N: So..this was pretty quick, right? Probably pretty crappy too but oh well! I have a tendency to update faster when Ive left a particularly rude author's note. Oh well. This chapter probably sucks - can you say plotholes?- but again, oh well. Honestly I'm kinda just trying to finish this. I only started planning what was going to happen around the last chapter, which is probably why everything is so freaking confusing. Major thanks to you for reading, I love you all except for the ones I don't (which is just the really annoying people like, say, the popular people in my school. if you're reading this, gtfo. Srsly. You hate me, the feeling's mutual, believe me.)

Shout out to LordOfTheOverworld for your awesome review, I love you, seriously, and I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Disclaimer: I STILL don't own this. Duh. All rights to Cassandra Clare!

And sorry for any and all typos/incorrect grammar - I never correct what I write cuz it's booooring.

Clary opened her eyes to find a world of nothing.

Or, well, not exactly nothing, but . . . all she could see was light. There was no sound. There were no smells. Just white light stretching over an infinite expanse of space. Clary touched the back of her head. She could have sworn something had happened to it just a moment earlier, but when she drew her hand back again it was perfectly clean.

Perfectly clean? There was no way! After all that had happened not a single speck of dirt on her suddenly spotless skin. She looked down. No rips in the fabric of her clothes. Her head felt strangely clear, the chaos from before gone as quickly as it had come, and there weren't any traces of the previous pain, either.

Just—what?

"Hi!"

Clary jumped. Before her—how hadn't she noticed—stood a boy who looked about thirteen years old and strangely familiar. He had short, messy hair in a shade of black she definitely recognized, and pale grey eyes beneath a pair of Harry Potter-style glasses that for some reason made her want to smile just as brightly as the boy currently was. But how had he gotten there? And what the hell was this place?

"You're Clary, aren't you? I'm Max! You know my brothers Alec and Jace, right? And Izzy! And mom and dad and – I've wanted to meet you ever since you started living with us!"

Images flashed through her mind, each only showing itself for a millisecond before the next took over. An empty room with a race-car bed, a picture frame of the Lightwoods along with an unfamiliar kid, Alec's sudden rage when he found out she was Valentine's daughter…

… She connected the dots.

What have I done?

"J-Jace has a little brother?"

"Yup and—hey! I am not little! I'm thirteen! And at least an inch taller than you."

Clary couldn't help it. She had to laugh. This kid was too adorable. Her hand practically moved on its own and affectionately ruffled his hair, causing him to become even more aggravated.

"Stop it! I'm not a kid, dammit!" he shouted at her, angrily removing her hand from his head while he was at it.

"Sure you aren't." She wasn't supposed to be happy right now, but seriously, there was no helping it. It was all too funny for her to take. "So, anyway, what is this place?"

"How should I know? I was just having an ordinary, afterlife day when all of a sudden everything went bam and then I showed up here. Maybe this is the Visitors section…?"

Afterlife. The word stabbed her chest repeatedly, tearing up old wounds and creating new ones. Afterlife. He was dead, there was no mistaking it anymore. Afterlife. Was she dead, too…?

As if he'd read her mind, Max waved his hand dismissively and said, "Oh, don't get your panties in twist, you're still alive. If you weren't you'd be somewhere around the Newly Deads section waiting for your turn. That part really is a pain, you know… Err, anyway, it's probably Visitors. I've never been here before, that's why I was a little uncertain at first, but yeah."

So, Clary understood about one-third of whatever the hell he'd just said, but she'd gathered the basics: she wasn't dead, and she was (probably) somewhere called Visitors. Huh. Just . . . what . . .

A high-pitched beep interrupted her "musings". Max looked down at his legs, surprised. Out of one of the pockets in his pants, a cell phone-like thing came floating at a leisurely pace, spitting out random noise that made no sense whatsoever to Clary but Max could seemingly understand, judging by his repeated nods and grunted yeses. The thing beeped once again, then flew off to some galaxy far, far away.

"Sorry . . . that was my iGhost. Apparently, this is Visitors, you're not about to die anytime soon but you're unconscious, and I've something I have to tell you."

…

Isabelle was, once again, down on her knees. Around her, the sound of bones crunching and jaws breaking was enough to make her want to puke. The smell of blood invaded her nostrils, sickening her even more with the knowledge of where it was coming from. Jace was being beat to a pulp by Valentine, Alec was being beat to a pulp by Jonathan, and she had tried to help them but the lingering effects of her live burial (and crazy running around town dragging her brothers along) had left her gasping for breath, unable to stand up straight. Damn Valentine, damn Jonathan, damn Jace for being so easily provoked, damn Alec for following him, damn them all!

Damn her for not being able to do anything.

In her pocket, the slight weight of her cell called to her. Isabelle wanted to curse. There was no reception down here, she'd already checked. It was just lucky those two maniacs (read: Valentine and Jonathan) hadn't caught her. The mere thought made her wince.

God, she was pathetic right now. This was all her fault, wasn't it? If she hadn't been captured by Jonathan then they wouldn't even have been there. Clary would be safe, Jace's bones wouldn't be broken, Alec's jaw would be whole, and everyone would be safe. If only mom and dad weren't away then… Robert and Maryse were, contrary to their appearances, both expert fighters with a shared background in the army. They'd taught their children to fight as well, but she, Alec and Jace were nowhere near their level.

And then there was Max. Max, their beloved little brother. Max, who had always preferred sitting in his room reading Naruto before training with his siblings. Max, who had been killed when he was just a little kid.

Max who had been killed by Valentine.

Now his brothers were about to be as well, and his sister would be quick to follow. Damn it damn it damn it damn it DAMN IT! Why can't I do anything!?

Her eyes fell on the stairwell. If only she could somehow reach it without anyone noticing… But she was in the opposite corner of the room. There was no way, unless somehow she managed to sneak behind Jonathan and Alec who were in the way of Valentine's line of vision when it came to that particular place. Getting to them would be a problem, though—wait! What the hell was she thinking? Even if she made it, there was absolutely no way Jonathan wouldn't kill her when she tried to get past.

Unfortunately, this was the only plan she could come up with. Damn her brain, too.

Giving herself an imaginary face-palm, Isabelle struggled to her feet. Her vision blurred. At least it was pretty dark. Le sigh. One step. Swaying a bit. Then one more. One more…another one. Almost by the dreaded…err…checkpoint, now. Right foot, left foot, right foot—

She had been spotted.

Jonathan momentarily paused, with one hand fisting Alec's shirt and the other raised in the air on a trajectory straight toward her brother's face. Isabelle wanted to punch him six ways to Sunday but barely had the strength left to move her legs. Her eyes met his inexplicably black ones, then—

Then he nodded.

Isabelle continued on her way and when the stairs were reached absolutely nothing had changed. Valentine was still on Jace, Jonathan was still on Alec. But Isabelle was no longer on her knees and new energy was flowing into her (accompanied by a healthy amount of adrenalin). She could do this. She could save them. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears louder than any drum as every second brought her closer to the top. Opening the door would alert Valentine but if she was careful… he was pretty busy with Jace, right? She was at the top, fingertips skimming the door's surface. Push slowly, Isabelle. Crack by abysmal crack it opened, leaving just enough room for her to slip through while praying to God that this was it. That now, maybe her brothers could be saved and Clary could be found. No one noticed her exit.

Shaking, her fingers fished out her cell and hit the numbers one by one. 9. 1. 1.

"Hello? I'm at Alicante Institute and…"

It was only after the call was finished that her legs gave out and her head was swarmed with images of that fraction of a second that had changed everything.

Jonathan…why had he helped her?