People were staring at her. Waiting for her to move her small feet across the tiled floor. His golden eyes were waiting expectantly, anxious for her to make her way toward him. How could he be so… calm? She could barely stop her stomach from emptying itself as she swallowed down the idea of her messing anything up. You've practiced this! You know what to do! She reassured herself as she took a wary step in his direction. The crowd smiled, nodding approvingly as a pleasant yet familiar tune ignited across the room and reached her ears. They'd practiced with this song. Simple. All she had to do was place her ivory hands in his and trust him… it was natural to trust him. He told her that she'd look beautiful in the fluffy dress, and she did! Several people had agreed with his opinion. There was pent up emotion in her chest by the time his large, calloused hands took her palm delicately.

"So, what do you think?" He asked as he spun her closely to him. She nearly tripped as his feet took a sharp turn, taking her along with him. Cameras flashed like stars twinkling in the distance as she forced down a heated blush. What was the point of this? They had danced on many different occasions. Most of the time it was to entertain the crowd because they fit so well against each other. Her small, and him attentive to that fact as he moved her fluidly despite her shaky legs.

"It's pretty. I like the flowers." She commented softly. He hated when she mumbled, but how was he to hear her over the height difference and upbeat music? Though, in his defense, she did pick it out. "But… why did we have to dress like - like-"

"Royalty?" He grinned. She smiled, not entirely sure his answer was correct but not wanting to make a fool of herself. Her fiery curls had been done special. The way the ceiling lights hit them, the cameras flashing were able to catch the golden swirls that were her natural highlights. Isabelle said she looked like a princes. However, that didn't comb over the fact that she had stuck several pins to keep her hair up in the fancy bun. "Do you forgive me for making you wear the dress?" He pouted. She giggled, causing the photographers to get excited. "You look beautiful, just like I said you would." He added.

"It's itchy. You didn't say it would be itchy." She reminded him as he spun her once again, this time the crowd joining them on the large dance floor that was filled with warm lighting and flowers. "Why couldn't I wear a suit like Andrew? It would be like pajamas!" She whined in her bell-like voice that chimed up to his ears.

"Because you're a girl." He chuckled, tapping her on her small nose. "And, because you know who would flip out if you showed up in a tuxedo." He whispered like it was there secret. She nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.

"That's what it's called? A tuxedo?" She asked him with interest. His cleanly shaven chin bobbed up and down, making her throat bubble laughter - as she was so easily amused at her age. She was cut off mid-laugh when he twirled her in a quick spin. As she gasped, he scooped her up and into his strong arms that had held her through nightmares, long-lasting colds, and injuries that she wasn't entirely guilty for. She locked her arms around his neck, smelling a sweet smell that faintly reminded her of fancy restaurants and stiff dress pants. Her small eyes wandered the floor, settling on hair just as red - if not more - than hers.

The woman had ivory skin, soft and smooth, and even though most weren't able to see it - a scar on her shoulder. It always fascinated her on how her mother was so strong. Her father said that her mother was stronger than him… even with his sturdy muscles and tall stature. Her white dress touched the floor, making her appear as if she were floating when the little girl could not spot her feel moving as she made her way toward them. Walking next to her was a boy - tall for his age with hair as dark as the night sky. Just three years older than the little girl but he still called himself the man of the house when their father wasn't around. When the woman was close enough, she outstretched her toned arms.

"And to Mommy you go." Her father laughed, passing the three year old into her mother's arms. Her mother smelled of sugary; probably from the cake they had recently eaten. Cake, she thought to herself, wanting more of the red velvet.

"You did so good, Gianna! I hope Daddy didn't make you dizzy, though." Her mother laughed as her daughter clung to her in the same way she did her father. The man in question ran a hand through his shining hair, pretending to take her chiding lightly despite his reddened face.

"Gianna say: Daddy and I were just having fun, and you did the same with Andrew!" He chuckled. Gianna Herondale didn't know what to do besides bury her nose deeper into her mother fragrant neck and hope the two sorted out the deadlock. After all, it was there wedding. There was no going back. That's what Andrew had announced for the past few months. So… did that mean they'd spend the rest of their lives together? With just each other? What if they got bored like Gianna did when she spent too much time playing with the same time. "Sorry, Babe." Her father apologized sheepishly, to which her mother leaned in and kissed him, careful of the three year old that she held against her hip.

"Hey, let's not have you guys get started on baby number five." A familiar voice laughed. Gianna craned her neck to see her aunt Charlotte, walking besides her uncle Henry- each of them holding onto two strawberry blond children. One in a lilac dress, the other desperate to get out of his black suit and tie that was the length of his small torso. The only thing they shared - besides parents - being birthdays.

"I wanna dance with Da!" The girl - Lilia - stomped as if it were some great injustice. Her father squatted to her level, opening his arms wide for her to run into while her brother - Teddy - tugged on his mother's dress, begging to replace Gianna in her arms.

"Woah, did I just hear baby talk?" A silvery blond asked as he approached the group, a lovely brunnette at his side. "You don't want to jinx the bride, Charlotte." He scolded before his sister smacked him on the back of the head, gesturing to the slight bump on her stomach. "Sorry!" He snapped, rubbing his head with a scowl aimed at Charlotte.

"Can you believe you guys are finally getting married! The couple to have kids first, gets married last!" Rebecca gushed, holding onto Jonathan's bicep. "We shoulda done this! Tell me, why did we elope?" She said with a wanting look as she gazed up at the decorated columns and lavish flowers.

"Hey, I told you, we weren't having my son without a ring on that pretty finger." He smiled, kissing her cheek. She nodded, humming in agreement. Gianna scrunched her nose up at the display of affection, doing it harder when her brother began to wail after being ignored. She was soon placed on the floor - then up in someone else's arms soon after. "We're not turning into Simon and Isabelle." He said in a gravelly voice that wasn't soft enough for the group to miss out on.

What was with everyone and weddings?

"Wow… we're married." Clary concluded to Jace, looking out at Andrew teaching Lilia how to twirl around like her not-so-older sister. Alec and Magnus were busy bottle feeding their six month old son, William. She told them it was okay if they didn't want to go to the wedding, with having to carry around a baby and all, but Magnus wasn't going to skip out on a wedding that was three years overdue. Honestly, she didn't know how to answer him without bringing back the birth of her second born daughter.

Labor had nearly killed her. Nearly took away her baby. But, somehow, she pulled through, and in the end was given the gift of her daughter she couldn't imagine life without. Though, she knew what it felt like to lose a child. Jace had taken fatherhood with ease. Well, as in he loved his daughter unconditionally enough to change her diaper without a word of protest. Other things like coping with the fact that she'd be undeniably beautiful when she was older took some time to get used to. Clary wondered how someone who was a carbon copy of her could look gorgeous, as she herself was no such thing.

Things were good for a while. They had adopted Andrew, moved apartments with the raise Jace had gotten. Rebecca and Jonathan confessed that they were expecting a little one of their own. Simon didn't find it amusing how taking account of her weeks pregnant meant that she conceived around the time she arrived in New York. Isabelle had to hold him down when the couple later announced that they had eloped.

It was on Clary's six week checkup that she was told that she was expecting. Again. All that fear of labor was only heightened when an ultrasound revealed her to be having twins. She refused to let Jace touch her for a week, angered that they had been stupid enough to trust breastfeeding as a birth control. Though, deep down she was afraid to admit that she was replacing her old family. Jace had asked her if she would like to get married before the twins were born, and she worried that something bad would happen. As if marrying him would cause a streak of unlucky events like it had when she was with Sebastian.

Still, she didn't reject him when he proposed.

Three years and three kids later, they were finally getting married. Those around her had started families of their own. Married, and happy at last. And now she was able to join them in their blissfulness. Watching Gianna dance with Jace only proved that she was making the right decision. That she hadn't given her family bad luck as she had done the last one. Despite her lack of faith, she believed that, somewhere, perhaps from above, were her Beth and Sebastian Jr. protecting their half-siblings. At rest and accepting of their mother's choice in men.

Though she still missed them terribly, had dreams that consisted of them and their younger siblings, she was able to come to terms with her past. Get over that guilt that had hovered over her like a looming cloud.

"You're not having regrets, right?" Jace said with a laugh that didn't agree with his worried gaze. Clary shook her head, leaning it against his shoulder afterwards.

"No, just… I feel weird. Like, all of the things that happened led us to this moment. Led me to you." She admitted softly, sensing one of Jace's strong arms wrap around her shoulder.

"I couldn't agree more." Jace responded, looking out upon their family. At his adoptive siblings, nieces and nephews. Brother in law, to the grandmother of his children. His past was no better, no worse than Clary's, and he agreed with her statement. If his parents hadn't given him up to the Lightwood's, if he hadn't suffered an injury to the shoulder, been honorably discharged from the military and suffered from PTSD, struggled with alcohol abuse, forced into treatment by his mother, then handed in a freshly printed resume to the police department… well, then they wouldn't be here. He wouldn't have been the rookie who took a tour with his future wife, helped her recover from a gunshot wound. If not, he'd be a long way from recovery. A long way from seeing their little Gianna.

Yes, he couldn't have possibly agreed more.

~Rookie~

AN: And that's a wrap! Thirty six chapters and I'm happy to mark this story complete. It's sorta sad that it's over, but I couldn't have ended this fic on a pleasanter note. Thanks to all of you who have favorited, followed, and reviewed this story! It means so much that you took the time to get to know the characters and stuck with each's crazy dilemmas.