When Clary woke, it was with a start; the covers were twisted round her legs and it was a struggle to push herself up into a sitting position, her hand clutched over her heart.

"Jonathan?" she half murmured, glancing to the empty space beside her on the mattress.

"Oh dear, have you lost something, Clarissa?" Valentine inquired, mockingly polite, from his stance by the wardrobe.

"Shut up," she muttered automatically, flinging the covers off her lap and hurriedly getting to her feet.

"Forget about him, baby- come back to us," Jocelyn implored from where she perched on the end of the bed.

"Darling, Clary isn't a child anymore, she can make her own decisions. Even if they are woefully wrong,"

"Jonathan?!" the redhead cried out fretfully, running for the bedroom door, her heart pounding painfully in her chest.

"Yes?" she spun around, her hand leaping from the door handle to her throat. Her brother was standing in his boxers in the bathroom doorway, toothbrush in hand and his black eyes alert for any trouble. His eyebrows drew together as Clary breathed out shakily and walked slowly towards him, her hand coming up to hesitantly touch his upper arm. "Clary?"

"Its nothing. I'm fine," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his shoulder and failing to calm her breathing. His free arm instantly wound around her waist, pulling her into his warmth. "I thought you disappeared..." she admitted quietly, closing her eyes and pressing her ear to his chest to listen to his heart beating. It was always so fast; she wondered how he hadn't died of a heart-attack by now.

"I'm here," he reassured her, soothingly skimming his fingers up and down her back and tucking her head under his chin. "Now, can I finish brushing my teeth?" after a long pause, she drew back, her hand dropping from his arm to knot with her other one. Her brother retreated back into the bathroom and she promptly followed, edging along the left wall and watching him out of the corner of her eye.

He glanced at her as he brushed his teeth and she looked down, her hand absently coming up to run over the cool tiles of the wall she was leaning against, her fingers feeling along the lines. Slowly, she looked back at Jonathan who was preoccupied with rinsing his mouth out, his back tense as though he felt her focus on him.

"Why so glum, my daughter? You found what you were looking for," her fathers voice echoed in her mind, causing her to stiffen. Jonathan turned to her, his hands behind his back; he looked significantly paler, his eyes like liquid onyx in the florescent light and his fair hair bright. The world seemed to tilt or maybe her head had cocked sideways of its own accord. Before she knew it, her brother had thrust a scalpel into his own oesophagus and blood burst from the wound.

A harsh shrieking sound erupted as she flew at him, fingers swiping at his bloody neck, not knowing whether to yank the shining implement out or not.

"Clary, stop!" the shrieking ceased and she looked up to meet his decidedly bewildered gaze. It took several blinks of her wide eyes to register the iron grips around her wrists and that she had her brother shoved up against the wall. "...Clary?" he said in a low careful tone as she stared at him. She numbly glanced down at his neck to see nothing but smooth skin aside from a couple pink marks where she'd been practically clawing at him.

"But you..." her voice was a raspy whisper, her mind a fearful haze.

"What has gotten into you, Clarissa?" her father crowed.

"Now's your chance, Clary! Baby- use the tweezers on the sink- you know what to do-!" her mothers insistent voice buzzed inside her head like white noise. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew Jonathan was saying her name but she couldn't focus on it- she couldn't focus on anything. It was as if a barren void had replaced her mind; none of the voices could penetrate it, real or imaginary. She thought she sensed her feet swept out from beneath her but it was fleeting and dizzying and her mind recoiled from it. She thought she was floating...

The first thing Clary registered once the void had dissipated was that her mouth was dry. It felt like someone had forced sand down her throat. She wasn't sure if she had opened her eyes or if they had been open the whole time, but she was now staring up at the bedroom ceiling, her body seeming twice as small.

Was I...dreaming?

She received no response. Who had she expected a response from?

The blankets and bed-sheets felt stifling, but she couldn't muster the energy to move just yet. Gradually, she turned her head to the left to gaze at a glass of water on the bedside table. There was a teaspoon next to it but her eyes returned to the glass, feebly wishing she could will the water into the air and onto her tongue.

"Clary..." a familiar voice sifted through the still room towards her, followed by hasty footsteps. She turned her head back as the bed dipped beside her, Jonathan's black eyes capturing hers for the moment. "What happened?" the redhead frowned weakly, her attention once again drifting to the issue of her parched mouth.

"I must've been sleeping," she croaked, her body relaxing slightly. "Why didn't you wake me?" she caught the strange look that crossed his angular features, anxiety flooding her veins. "Did something happen?"

"No." Jonathan said in a calm tone, a smile gracing his face. "You've been asleep nearly half the day and I have been dying of boredom." Clary snorted derisively and felt a giggle fall from her lips. Jonathan looked imperceptibly surprised by this reaction but she paid it no notice.

"My body feels like lead," she half complained, stretching out her limbs. "Help me sit up? I'm so thirsty," her brother obliged, shifting further up the bed as she gulped down the water he'd passed to her.

"Better?" he inquired, stroking her wild curls back from her face.

"Yeah," Clary replied sleepily once she'd downed the cool drink and reset the glass on the table. "What time is..." she broke off as she glimpsed something past her brothers shoulder. Jocelyn and Valentine were standing side by side against the opposite wall, their faces shadowed and their eyes boring into her. She was frozen in place, the blood in her veins running cold. She'd never seen them while in her brothers presence- she'd heard them in her head but never seen them; normally they waited until she was alone and especially vulnerable.

"Clary, look at me!" Jonathan snapped then, making her jump. She hadn't even realised he'd been talking. Ignoring his agitated look, she leaned forward and pressed her right cheek to his left so that the phantoms were no longer in her line of vision.

"They're here," she said in hushed tones, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Where?" her brother responded after a beat, his voice softening instantly and his breath tickling her ear.

"Against the wall by the bathroom doorway," she whispered shortly, her eyes still closed. His cheek peeled off hers as he turned to look behind him and she wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his side.

"I see nothing," she heard him state simply, feeling the knuckles of his hand starting to brush up and down her spine as his other hand tangled in her fiery hair.

"Of course not," she retorted, her words muffled in his side. "They're in my head..."

"Forget about them," Jonathan soothed, grasping her shoulders and pulling her up so that they were face to face. "If they're in here, we will go somewhere else,"

"What if they follow?" she asked, helplessly gazing into her brothers fathomless eyes.

"Then pretend they aren't there. Don't look at them or pay them any attention at all. Concentrate on something else in the room," he shot her a lecherous grin. "Me, for example." Clary drew in a trembling breath before nodding and climbing into her brothers lap, locking her arms around his neck and closing her eyes on the sight of her mother sobbing into her hands. If only she could close her ears to the sound.

"What do you want to do?" Jonathan murmured against her hair, his thumbs rubbing circles into the skin of her lower back.

"I'm hungry," the redhead sighed eventually.

"For sex or fuel?" her brother replied nonchalantly and she pulled back to meet his dark gaze. "We could combine both activities if you'd like," he suggested with a sinful smirk, pulling her tighter against him. The remnants of stress lifted as she reciprocated the wet kiss her brother bestowed her mouth, the tell-tale signs of throbbing heating the peak of her inner thighs. Reluctantly she tore her lips from his, leaning her forehead on his as she regained her composure.

"So what will it be?" Jonathan breathed, his pupils dilated like a sharks. His erection was hot and prominent between her thighs, straining against his boxers.

"Make me something?" the redhead asked quietly, her hunger pangs fighting the urge to grind against his hard-on.

"I already have a little something prepared," Jonathan returned in a sultry tone as he lifted his hips to rub against her, his hands possessive on her thighs. Clary bit her lip to suppress a gasp, the tension between their mouths soon to reach unbearable; she jumped up off his lap.

"I need food," she said, still breathless. Her brother fell backwards onto the bed, his arms coming up to cover his face as he released a groan of displeasure. "Come on, make us something to eat, Jonathan," the redhead continued, padding over to the wardrobe to find something to cover herself with. She paused as she retrieved and slid into fresh shell pink underwear, glancing to the spot their parents had been occupying. But they were nowhere in sight.

"Ugh, don't get dressed," the white-blond complained from the bed where he was now lounging on his front. "You look better naked. Especially when we're naked together," Clary rolled her eyes as she stopped at the foot of the bed and stared down at him.

"You're not naked," she pointed out, her eyes flicking to his boxers and back.

"Ah, but I could be," her brother countered, voice laden with mischief and gaze heavy with intent. "You just say the word..."

"No sex until I've eaten." Clary declared, challenge glinting in her eyes as she stubbornly crossed her arms. Her brothers expression was more or less mutinous but he relented with a testy "Fine," and got to his feet. The redhead latched onto the white-blonds arm as they headed downstairs, her left hand clasping his firmly. Wandering around the house in their underwear no longer seemed abnormal to her and that was when she noticed it at all. Her brothers presence was calm and relaxed and she took solace in it; the days she'd spent without him were a dark blur that she shied away from, mentally skirting away from the fragmented memory of nightmares and hallucinations that had seemed to merge into one oppressive entity of pure torment.

She must have visibly flinched because she felt the muscles of her brothers arm react under her palm.

"Ignore them," he murmured as they walked down the hallway to the kitchen, assuming that she had glimpsed the ghost of their parents again.

"Jonathan..." she began hesitantly, not sure what exactly it was she wanted to say to him.

"Yes?" he prompted as he lead her into the kitchen by the hand and lifted her onto a stool by the breakfast bar. She picked at her cuticles as he went to look in the fridge, her gaze sliding sideways and inwards.

"...Did you see...did you fight any shadowhunters...?" she heard the fridge door thud closed as if from a great distance and the vague rustle of packaging before her brothers smooth voice filled her ears.

"Nobody we know."

"Did you kill anyone...?" she asked with the hint of trepidation in her gut, her vision starting to clear once more. She was startled by the feel of her brothers hands on her upper arms, her eyes blinking up at him.

"There was one incident in Japan," his voice was soft, his expression open but there was that odd fixed quality to his sharp features that she'd seen on various occasions. "An annoyingly well synchronized band of nephilim had me cornered...I didn't stop to check if they were still breathing."

You're lying! Screamed a distorted version of her voice within her head, however it became clear that the words had left her mouth by the slight narrow of Jonathan's eyes.

"I don't know whether to be proud or wary," he commented easily, his face switching to amused before turning serious a moment later. "I slaughtered them. It was the quickest and easiest course of action. And if you want to know why: I was in a hurry to get back to you." When Clary remained silent, her chest tight and her throat constricted, he turned away and went back to the counter. As she watched him pop hot cross buns in the toaster, she felt something rising within her. Like an ill seed planted inside her, but she couldn't determine what is was.

Jonathan buttered the buns and placed them on two plates, his back tense again, catching the redheads frazzled attention. She found herself eyeing her brother closely as he brought the food over and sat down on the stool beside her. The growth of the alien seed inside her had accelerated drastically but it halted altogether when her brother leaned in and kissed her fervently, his hand gentle at the nape of her neck.

"Thanks," she smiled delicately, holding his keen gaze and getting lost in his black holes momentarily. Finally, he released her and turned to start on his food without comment. Feeling herself again, Clary followed suit and picked up a bun, the sweet smell invading her nose and causing her stomach to clench. She took a generous bite out of it and chewed in quiet satisfaction, allowing her mind to wander as she ate. She glanced at Jonathan and caught his furtive expression, the half eaten bun in his hands seemingly forgotten.

"What?" she asked, almost laughing until she sensed the seed within her starting to grow again. Her brothers face started to look far too innocent in her eyes and she disregarded the warning in her head telling her she was being paranoid.

"Nothing," Jonathan answered- sickly sweetly in Clary's irrational opinion. "I haven't been able to look upon your face in so long, I cant really help it,"

"Really?" the redhead questioned, putting her unfinished bun on the plate, her senses itching with suspicion. Jonathan didn't catch the deliberate edge to her voice- or had chosen to dismiss it- and went back to his food, glancing sideways at her plate once.

"I thought you were hungry," he said casually and the redheads intuition sounded off like an ear-screeching siren. Slowly she looked down at her food and then back at her brother, the acidic seed of rage growing and boiling beneath her skin. Before she consciously knew what she was doing, she slid off her stool and threw her plate at the wall past her brothers head; her dinner clattered into a scattered pile on the floor beside the kitchen door. Jonathan didn't budge an inch, his bun paused halfway to his mouth and his muscles contributing to the tension in the room.

"You twisted bastard," the redhead glared furiously at the back of her brothers head, the adrenaline pumping around her body egging her on. "What did you put in them? And don't you even dare try to pretend you didn't- I know you did!" Jonathan carefully set his food aside and got to his feet, his face wiped clean of all emotion. And yet that said it all. He'd poisoned her food, he'd betrayed her, he'd proven to them both just how much like Valentine he really was. If Clary ever truly hated her brother, it was in that moment.

"Sit down, Clary and I'll explain-" he began in a civilised manner but he didn't act the least bit surprised when she cut him off in an angry tirade.

"How could you?! Have you been acting this entire time? Well?! I don't know why I'm surprised, you'll never change- I see that now- I cant believe I ever thought you could, I mean you must think I'm the stupidest person on the planet," she couldn't stop herself, the words continued pouring from her mouth like the acid inside her was welling up and fighting its way out of her system. Her body was shaking with it and her brother, he just stood there, back rigid and onyx eyes fixed on her as if he was watching a bridge collapsing on a freight train and was completely indifferent to it. "Say something! What was it, demon blood? And I bet you used your own, you sick...sick..." she shook her head, giving him the most disgusted look she could conjure. He remained unaffected and that only resulted in stoking her ire further.

"Are you done?" Jonathan asked dispassionately.

"No, I am not-!"

"For Raziel's sake, Clary! If I wanted you to be like me, I would force you to drink from the Dark Cup. You know that; we've been through this." her brother slowly approached her, his steps measured and his features cautious. He was acting as if she was the dangerous one in the room and she sneered in response. "We both know there's something wrong with you. I expected you to be upset, angry but this is different and that's why I-"

"Poisoned me," she finished for him with vicious incredulity written all over her face.

"Clarissa, I did not poison you-" he denied in a practiced calm tone, but the redhead wasn't hearing it.

"Stop lying!" she screamed hoarsely, tears of fury and frustration- and betrayal if she truly thought about it- stung her eyes, turning the whites pink. "You're a liar! Every word that comes out of your mouth is a lie! Nothing you've ever told me has been true- you wouldn't know what truth was if it killed you!"

"I love you. That is truth." Jonathan returned serenely, standing still before her, his eyes on fire with intensity. Something in Clary's brain snapped and all she was channeling was blind hatred as she swung her fists towards her brothers face. He effortlessly blocked her punches with his hands and that infuriated her, encouraging her to kick out and scratch and bite like a savage. "Clary, stop now." but she didn't stop; in that moment, she wasn't the least bit afraid of the warning flash in her brothers dark eyes.

She flew at him again and again, while he remained on the defensive, never moving to strike her back. She was only partially aware of her awful shrieking, the rest of her focused on bruising and grazing and scarring the white-blonds pretty unblemished skin. She could see her brothers tolerance weakening as plainly as hailstones starting to fall from the sky and she fought harder against him in response, wanting to wear him down and push him into showing his true colours.

Panting audibly, she backed off, waiting for her brothers muscles to loosen up a bit. He looked barely in control of himself now, let alone her and she thought she read a glimmer of desire seething in the depths of his eyes, automatically triggering her own. However, she took a deep breath and the second he made to exhale a sigh, she threw out her fist across his mouth, clipping his nose sharply enough to draw blood. A white blur shot out across her vision and it wasn't until she opened her eyes to find herself sprawled on the floor with a throbbing cheek that she realised he'd hit her back.

He hadn't moved to tower over her but as she turned her face up towards him, her mind shocked back into clarity, she felt like a child quivering before a giant.

Sorry for the long wait! I'm afraid they'll be another wait but I thought I'd stop the chapter here so that I'd have something to post for you guys.
And thank you for all the lovely comments, I'm honoured that you're all enjoying this fic so much! :)