A/N: This was meant to be the final chapter. But it's not. The next one is. Thanks for reading.

And please review if you do.


"Rebecca!" Simon skidded around the corner and found his sister sitting on one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs in the waiting room, rolling the locket that their Dad had given her for her 8th birthday between her lips, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Simon had a flashback to that day. She sat in a seat similar to that one, fingering that locket, crying while doctors told them there was nothing more they could do. That their father had been dead on arrival.

"Simon!" She leaped out of the chair and pulled him into her, wrapping her arms around him and threatening to never let go. Her tears spilled down onto his shirt, and Simon couldn't have cared less. He grabbed her by the shoulders and stared her in the eyes.

The eyes that exactly resembled their mother's.

"What happened?" His mind was reeling. No. This couldn't be happening. No….

"She…" Oh God, Simon!" She fell against his chest and grief wracked her body.

"Where is she?" He pleaded, searching everywhere for a doctor who could tell him, help him find his mother. He had to see her. This couldn't be happening.

Not again.

Rebecca inclined her head and stared at her brother in shock. "Simon…" She said softly, more tears falling down her face. She didn't hide them. Why would she? It was a time to grieve.

Simon envied her. He couldn't let a tear fall. Not one. No matter how desperately he wanted to, his sockets remained dry.

"No…" He said, and Rebecca's arms tightened around her brother.

"It was…Just so sudden."

"What…" Simon struggled to find the words. He struggled to find a reason to speak. The world kept on turning. Life went on.

So why did it? Why did life go on? Why couldn't life, for just a moment, just stop and let him grieve? Was it too much to ask?

Apparently it was.

"What happened?" he asked again, his voice devoid of emotion, mainly from the shock.

"She was in the city, and there must have been some truth to those bomb warnings…"

"What?" Simon jerked back.

"She drove into town. She was rounding the corner of 72nd and 2nd and…"

Simon felt as if he would actually collapse and die. Again. And this time it would last.

No. This couldn't be true.

"72nd and 2nd?" He felt nauseas.

"Yeah," Rebecca nodded, her voice crackling with emotion. "They freed her, but it was too late. The impact….It killed her."

Again. Not again.

"This can't be…" he swallowed. "Not again."

Rebecca collapsed into the chair in the waiting room. Simon followed suit, hanging his head between his knees and taking deep, unnecessary breaths. His cell phone rang, and he flinched. Slowly, painfully, he flipped open the receiver and said "Hello?"

"Simon?" Clary exclaimed, her voice etched in worry. "What happened? Where did you go?"

Simon just hung up.

He couldn't deal with it. Saying the words would make this all the more real.

For hours, they stayed there. Rebecca grabbed Simon's hand and squeezed, before flinching because "it was so cold". Simon eventually went to the cafeteria and got Rebecca a bottle of Coke. Coffee wasn't really her thing; and by the stench of it, it wasn't fit for human consumption.

"Here." he said, offering her the drink, which she took with a half-smile of thanks. Neither of them was in the mood to feign niceties.

Simon's phone rang and rang. Clary. Clary. Clary. Isabelle. Eric. Clary. Jace. Clary again, and the Isabelle left him a voicemail, asking him to call her when he felt up to it, since he was obviously upset about something. Telling him he could talk to her, and she would be there when he was ready.

Finally, when his phone rang again, Simon decided that this time, he would admit it. This time, he would say the words and hope he wouldn't get crushed under their pressure.

"Clary?" Simon's voice was dead even to his own ears.

"Simon Lewis, why aren't you answering your phone?" Clary's anger radiated through the cell phone and Simon felt a headache build-up, swelling just above his eyes. Damn his acute sense of hearing.

"Sorry." he said. Although he wasn't sorry at all.

"That's all you can say? Sorry?" Simon heard Isabelle in the background telling her to calm down, and Clary hissing in response.

"We're worried sick here! You just upped and disappeared without a word. You better have a really good excuse."

"Yeah."

"That's all you can say? Yeah. God, Simon. We're your friends. What's so important that you just-"

"My mom died."

Simon hung up the phone, not waiting to hear her response. But he assumed it would be sunned silence. Three minutes later, he received a text from Isabelle.

Where are you? it read. Simon slowly typed out the word and sent it to Isabelle, while forwarding it to Clary. Despite how he felt inside, and how he craved isolation- he just wanted time on his own, to think- he knew that he needed someone. He needed a shoulder to cry on.

Metaphorically.

Twenty minutes later, Clary, Isabelle, Jace and Mayrse strolled through the doors. Clary raced to Simon and clutched him in a hug, tears streaming down her face. He tightened his hold on her and sunk his head into the crook of her neck, thankful that she was her. Both times, she had been here. She was his best friend. He needed her here.

Isabelle hung back, watching them. Her expression was sombre. Rebecca came around the corner, holding a bagel for Simon, thinking he needed something to eat, and not realising that it was about as far from a bagel as possible. She saw Clary hugging Simon, dropped the bagel on the chair and ran to her. Clary leaped into the girl's arms and the openly sobbed together, heads bobbing from weeping.

Simon closed his eyes and thought of everything that still needed to be done. He had already called his aunt. She was flying in from Portland to take care of her niece and nephew, organise the funeral…everything. She had notified the rest of the family, under Simon's request. He just couldn't deal with all that…not right now.

Isabelle took a tentative step forward, so unlike her general confident persona.

"I've never been in a mundie hospital before." She said, watching the flickering fluorescent bulbs and the buzzing intercoms and overworked doctors who passed her.

"Yeah, well I've been in them too much." Simon said quietly. Something in her resolve broke and she pulled him into a bone breaking hug, which he reciprocated with equal fervour.

"I'm so sorry." she whispered.

Jace placed a hand on Simon's shoulder, but didn't offer his sympathy. Only a nod. It was more comforting than Simon could have realised.

"What are you still doing here anyway?" Mayrse said, a note of sympathy in her tone.

"We…We have to identify the body, but we need to wait for m aunt….and we don't want to go home. Not…Not alone." Simon said.

"You're sure it's…" Isabelle said.

"Yeah. We're sure."

"What happened?"

Simon had that very same question.

"Becks?" Simon called, and she raised her tear stained face over Clary's shoulder.

"Mm-hm?"

"What actually happened? How did she…" he could barely say the word "die?"2She was in the car, going into the city. She heard about the bomb threats and she wanted to make sure you were okay…"

Simon felt his stomach plummet. If he hadn't sent out the bomb warning to clear the street, she'd be alive. But Rebecca continued and Simon felt his world stop turning, finally, as the truth was revealed.

"And then a one hundred foot pole fell onto her car and crashed through the hood. She never stood a chance."

The pole.

The one that the demon had knocked over.

That Simon had caused him to knock over.

"No…." Simon breathed.

He had killed his mother.

He turned around and ran out the door, Rebecca screaming his name.

But he couldn't. He had to leave. This was all his fault.

His stupid Mark of Cain.

His actions had killed his own flesh and blood.

The Mark of Cain curse said he had to wander the world alone.

And wander he would.