Monsters

"So, tell me. How are we going to kill these Demons again?" I asked Dan who was standing beside me on the dark street of Manhattan as we stare at three men standing a few feet before us. If normal people would pass by—which is a fat chance since no one ever comes in this dark and empty place—all they could see are three policemen looking at a guy and a girl. They wouldn't know that these policemen have ugly faces glaring at us with their dark red eyes, gritting their protruding sharp teeth and snarling, preparing to change into their original form.

"Dan, do you have a plan? Because whatever that is, I'm all for it. Just tell me." Surprisingly, I'm not as afraid as before, in fact my hands itch to bury themselves on these evil minions. If only I have the power, I will to kill these three all by myself: one for Isabelle, one for Simon's mother and one for Simon's sister. Revenge is sweet, if only I have one of those swords the Shadowhunters have, or be a werewolf like my brother.

I heard Dan chuckle beside me and I turned, frowning. "Why are you laughing? Shouldn't you be yelling at me and telling me you were right that we shouldn't have left?"

"No," he said. "A thought just passed through my mind."

"What?" I asked and then turned back to look at the Demons to see if they're prepared to attack, because we're not. It's agony, and yet I'm not afraid.

Dan turned to me and took his phone out of his pocket. While he dialled, he said "If you really think about it, you could be a great Shadowhunter."

"What? And who are you calling? Really, Dan?"

He tsk tsked. "When will you ever learn that I know everything, especially when it comes to you?"

I frowned and was about to say something when he spoke to the phone. "Ready?...okay…." and then he hung up and gave it to me.

"Who's that?" I asked but he didn't answer. He just shrugged off his bag and gave it to me too. "What are you doing?"

Dan assumed a crouching position on the ground and turned, grinned at me then said, "Readying for a good old battle." And then before my eyes, my brother transformed into a ginormous dog. The moment he ran towards the Demons, I was about to scream that he's a bloody idiot to challenge them alone, but when four other werewolves appeared behind my back as they ran pass beside me, all I could do was stare open mouthed.

The Demons were outnumbered but I fear that there might be more to come, but as I watched the lycanthropes bite and scratch and throw the Demons, as one of them decided to get out of the chaos for a moment and scratch its head, and then joined the rest again, I knew…we could go back to Brooklyn safe and sound.

And when the realization came into me that they were not Luke or Maia—for I have seen them in their werewolf form—I can't help but be mad at Dan again. He had a pack here all along and he never told me. I would have made my way out here sooner.

The moment we stepped into the Brooklyn ground, I wasted no time and called Amy asking her where to find Simon. She said he's been staying at Luke's so I told Dan and now we're on our way. But walking into Luke's house and finding a dishevelled, eyeglass wearing Simon on the floor playing Playstation is not what I was expecting.

"Er, Simon," Luke said. He was about to say that we're here when Simon cut him off.

"I'll just finish this first and then I'll go grab us lunch."

Luke glanced awkwardly at me and I turned to him in confusion. He cleared his throat again and said, "They're here."

Simon didn't even glance up, just raised his hand then said, "Hey."

What the actual fuck?

"No Simon, you don't understa—will you put those down for a second?" Luke said, starting to lose his patience.

Simon just chuckled. "Yeah, Luke."

That's it! I dropped my bags on the floor and with angry strides, walked towards him. "What in Jesus' name are you doing with your life, Simon Lewis?!"

On the first words that I utter, he glanced up at me with his face in between shock and disbelief at seeing me. The game forgotten, he abruptly stood. "Flo?" he asked and stared at me hard, like I wasn't real.

"The very one," I said, putting my hands on my waist. "Don't bullshit me Simon. You don't know what we've been through—what I've been through—just to get back here to you and this is how you greet me?!"

"B-but I-I d—" he stuttered.

"Shut up!" I exclaimed, startling him. "Why are you wearing glasses and why are you playing Playstation games and telling Luke you're going to go grab your lunch? Are you out of your fucking mind? Is this how you deal with your loss? Are you being denial, trying to get your old self human back? I don't know what you're trying to achieve but this is not the Simon Lewis I know and not the Simon Lewis I came back for." Turning my back to him, I walked to the door, grabbed my bag and went out of Luke's house.

Maybe I was just tired after hours of praying that I won't be killed or Dan or any of his friends, by the Demons we've encountered throughout our journey here, and I took it all out on Simon. But seeing him like that, being in denial and trying desperately to get back to his human self was enough to lose my nerves. Where's Clary, anyway? She's his bestfriend. She should be the one to call him out of his bullshit.

"Flo!"

I turned and found Simon following me. "What are you doing?" I asked without bothering to stop on my tracks. "Go back there and finish the game. You don't need me anyway. You have your old self back." There it was; the reason why I was so mad. I expected him to be lying on his bed, sad and alone, inconsolable. But he wasn't and I started questioning what Amy said. Maybe he doesn't really need me? Maybe it's just me who thought that I'm important to him, that no one can console him through his grieving but me. I am so stupid.

A hand caught my arm, spun me around and I stared into the face I love the most in the world. Simon's eyes always look especially beautiful under the morning sun and here I am again, falling to the same old routine; falling for his eyes. I sighed wearily. "What do you want Simon?"

He didn't answer right away and just stared at me closely. His mouth turned up slightly at the corners as if he was about to smile then raised his hand and gently touched my face. "You came back," he said in slight disbelief. He's still looking at me, searching my eyes, touching my face in wonder as if he can't believe that I'm standing right in front of him.

And I was a goner. "Oh Simon," I whispered. Then I let him pull me into a tight and longing embrace.

"You're really here," he said. "I missed you so much."

I felt myself relax against his cold arms. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."