First off, thank you so much to everyone reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it! I stayed up late last night to write this because I know that I probably won't be able to write during the week (Sorry)
I think this chapter is better then the last- I didn't like 25 all that much... but whatever! So- here you go! Let me know what you think =]

"You can't blame yourself, Clary," Luke said softly. That soothing, calm manner that she was so used to. Nice voice, nice words… words of lies. Clary couldn't bring herself to believe them. To do so would be a horrible deceit to herself and a ridiculous disregard of reality.

Clary shook her head miserably. "Yes, I can. It's my fault, Luke. I should have known better- I did know better, I just chose to ignore it. As soon as I said those words, I regretted it- all I had to do was run after him, but I just let him walk away. I knew what I was doing, Luke, there is no point in denying it."

"Everyone makes mistakes, Clary. It's part of being human. We all do it, and it just makes you a bigger person if you can admit it."

"Admitting that I screwed up isn't going to fix anything," she sighed. Her hand reached out morosely to take a biscuit from the table in front of her. Luke and Clary were both curled up on the opposite ends of the couch.

Luke leant over and grabbed a cookie. When he spoke his voice was muffled by the crumbled biscuit in his partially full mouth. "Maybe it isn't up to you to fix this. The Lightwoods know what they are doing, I'm sure they can find Jace."

Clary winced slightly at the mention of his name, she still couldn't bring herself to say it. "It was my fault, Luke. I have to do something to help him."

"What if you only made it worse?" Luke said honestly as he swallowed. "Jace doesn't want to see you Clary. I'm not trying to hurt you by saying that, but we need to face up to facts here. Jace probably wouldn't see it as helping, would he?"

Red locks of hair swung around Clary's face as she shook her head negatively. "No, he wouldn't. But I feel like I could get through to him and make him understand if I could just get him to listen…"

Luke raised a sceptical eyebrow. "And just how are you going to do that?"

"I don't know… tie him to a chair and duct tape his mouth shut, I suppose."

Luke laughed genuinely until silence gently re-entered the room and filled it up gradually until all sounds faded. The low hum of the refrigerator buzzed in their ears along with the distant sound of cars beyond the closed windows.

"He could be anywhere, Luke…"

Lucian Graymark turned his gaze to the girl hunched up on the other end of his battered, old couch. "Who?" he asked.

"You know who, Luke." Clary refused to look at her pseudo-father, and instead turned to the window. The window that allowed her to see outside. The big, bad world outside the window. Huge buildings stretching to the horizon until they faded away. It only added to Clary's misery that the view from the window seemed so very huge, when in contrast to the world it was so very tiny. He could be anywhere. Anywhere but at her side.

"No I don't, who are you talking about Clary?" Luke repeated in the background.

"Him," she repeated, never tearing her empty gaze from the imperfect pane of glass.

"Say his name Clary. Say it."

The girl stood still, though her hands shook. Her tumbling, copper curls swished infinitesimally as she shook her head once more. No. She knew she couldn't say it. Couldn't dare to utter it, as though it were poison on her lips. The word would slip out and the poison would slip in. It would make her shiver and shake. It would make acridly burning tears sting her eyes caustically. Clary had faced up to it: this was her fault, he had run away and left because of her. He was gone. But to say his name would make it worse. By avoiding it, she was desensitising herself. It meant some of the pain was blocked out and some of her strength shone through. Clarissa Fray could not bring herself to say that one word. His name would be her undoing. And she had come undone quite enough for one day.

"Clary," Luke warned. "Say it. Say his name. Blocking out things like this isn't healthy, neither is blaming yourself. Stop this silly practice of bottling things up, it isn't right. Now say his name."

"I ca-"

Just then a knock sounded on the door. Luke groaned in exasperation.

"Not again!" he exclaimed, flinging his arms out at his sides as if he was hitting the air. He yanked the door open with so much force that it slipped out of his hand and hit against the wall with a resounding crash. "If this is some idiot selling Tupperware lunchboxes I will personally shove him into one!"

"My, Lucian. New York has certainly changed your temperament," a soft voice said. Clary had not turned around but she could sense a smile on the speaker's lips. "I do apologise if this is an inappropriate or unsuitable time."

"No," Luke said somewhat weakly. "No, not at all. I… I had a long day, that's all."

"You seem quite shocked, Lucian. Perhaps you should sit down?" The voice was concerned- a female tone that seemed to have lost the smile. From where Clary stared out the window in her trance, she could imagine a frown on the woman's face. It was a voice she didn't know, but she didn't care enough to pull herself away from the devastating spread of landscape in front of her.

"I… I'm fine. Truly, I'm just surprised to see you to be honest."

Clary wondered if Luke was shell-shocked. He certainly sounded as though he was. Maybe the woman behind her back was an ex-girlfriend of some sort. As far as she knew, Luke had never had a girlfriend- but not too long ago, as far as she knew fairies and demons didn't exist. As far as she knew, Luke wasn't a werewolf- she had been proved wrong on that one though. Maybe she was wrong about this one too. Clary started to find herself hoping the woman was nice. Luke deserved someone nice. Just because she couldn't be happy didn't mean Luke couldn't be happy. Maybe the woman was a werewolf like Maia, or a Shadowhunter like…… A Shadowhunter like Alec. Yes, Alec. Alec was a Shadowhunter.

The window was mesmerising. It allowed her to imagine all the places he could be. All the places she might never go. All the times she might never see him. But this wasn't about her. She had to stop. Clary had to pull herself away. This wasn't helping anyone. Least of all her, certainly not him. But suddenly, Clary felt like turning away from the window would be like turning away from him. It would be once again turning her back on him. And she couldn't do it. Not that. She couldn't do that again.

A tinkling laugh floated in from the doorway. "Well that's perfectly understandable, Lucian. Would you like me to come back some other time?"

"Oh! No! I'm so sorry, please come in! I didn't mean to leave you standing in the door like that, honestly! Come on in," Luke urged.

Clary smiled tightly from the window. She had a nice laugh. Maybe she was pretty. Luke had invited her in, that was a good sign. Beyond the window a lonely seagull let out a piercing cry of heartbreak as it soared across the empty and torn sky.

"Don't worry about it Lucian. The Bellefleurs are nothing if not patient." The tinkling laugh sounded again like a delicate wind chime in a light breeze. Clary found herself back tracking on the last words she had half-heard. Did the woman just say-

"Very true, Madeleine," Luke chuckled, shutting the door with a click. "Very true."

Clary whirled around. The window left her eyes with all the buildings and sky and birds. Clary found herself looking at the sitting-room instead of the window.

It was gone.

He was gone.

Once again that woman had made her turn her back on him. Madeleine Bellefleur had made her turn her back on Jace again. A lump rose quickly in Clary's throat like a jagged stone floating fast to the surface of a lake. With one glance at the woman's silver hair, Clarissa Fray ran out of the room and locked the door to her bedroom with panicked breaths.

Clary was coming undone. All over again.