Sorry for the delay on this chapter; I know I told you guys it would be up before September but it took me a lot longer to write this than I thought. This is actually my longest chapter ever, finishing somewhere over 7000 words. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter Forty-Nine
The first thing Jacqueline noticed was that it was bright. Too bright, actually. She couldn't really remember where she had been before she was here — she didn't have much of a clear idea as to what here was, actually — but she remembered that it had been dark. And loud. And everything had hurt.
Nothing hurt her now.
Jacqueline peered down at her palms, flipping them over and looking at her knuckles. There was no blood, and while the fact that there was none seemed to surprise her, she didn't know why she was surprised. Gingerly, she pressed a finger to the side of her neck, expecting to feel a raised cut or a bump. But her skin felt smooth. She didn't know why that astonished her as much as it did.
She was sitting down in a chair, in a mostly nondescript room. The walls were a grayish-white, with windows looking out on what appeared to be a small flower garden. There was a desk in front of her, with another chair, unoccupied. A wooden door was in the corner of the room.
Jacqueline felt too dazed to try to open the door; something about this place felt both right and wrong. Like everything else, she didn't understand it.
Quietly, the door opened. A woman, with dark skin and eyes and long, flowing back hair, gazed at Jacqueline with a small smile on her face. She had one of those faces that Jacqueline couldn't tell how old the woman was—she could've been anywhere between twenty-five and fifty-five.
Jacqueline didn't know what to say. It felt as though she hadn't spoken in a while, and her lips struggled to form words.
"A little disorientating, isn't it?" The woman smiled kindly at her. "That usually happens after... waking up."
"Who... Who are you?" Jacqueline's fingers fidgeted on her lap, and she repressed the urge to brush her hair back.
"I am Gabriela," she replied, taking a seat at the desk. She looked comfortable, as if she had done this before. "And you are Jacqueline."
"Yes... Yes, that, that I remember." Jacqueline's head felt foggy, as if she were half-asleep. "But I don't remember much else." Her next words came out in a rush. "Was I asleep? Where am I? What happened?"
Gabriela spoke softly and kindly as she said, "Jacqueline, you died a few minutes ago."
"I... I don't even remember, really." The words took Jacqueline a while to process. It was strange to think that she was dead, to hear someone say it. "There was lots of noise, and blood, but I—I feel okay now."
"To answer your other question," Gabriela continued, "you're in a realm of heaven." She smiled reassuringly, folding her hands on the desk. "Now, what I want you to understand is that this is only a... lower dimension of heaven. It's rather hard to explain, but you're not in the full, glorious heaven. You are in a bit of an in-between place."
"Okay." Jacqueline wasn't sure what else to say. The whole situation seemed odd, and she just felt exhausted. Was dying supposed to make someone this tired? Shouldn't she feel strong and alert and rejuvenated? "Will I ever leave here?" she asked. "I mean, not to — not to go back to living, but to that, um—"
"Final place?" Gabriela finished for her. "Yes. But not after some time. All of us who are here have not yet gone to the true heaven. We are still waiting."
"Who is 'we'?" Jacqueline asked, curious.
Gabriela stood up, somehow managing to making rising from a chair graceful. "Come here, Jacqueline," she said, and though she spoke a command, she was so gentle and kind that Jacqueline couldn't help but listen.
She stood, and followed Gabriela to the corner of the room. Gabriela beckoned for her to come closer, gesturing to the mirror. "Look at your reflection," Gabriela directed.
Jacqueline felt a little strange, wondering what she was supposed to be looking at. Her reflection looked as she remembered it. Closing her eyes and then opening them again, she watched as a soft glow seemed to emanate from her head, shoulders, and arms. In almost an instant, Jacqueline's reflection had changed entirely.
The visible parts of her skin were covered with gold, moving runes, the kind that always appeared after someone had tried to draw them on her. But these were not disappearing.
The most astonishing thing, however, were the golden wings that had appeared out of her shoulder blades.
Immediately, Jacqueline hurriedly stumbled back. "Wh-what's going on?" she asked, afraid. She turned to look at Gabriela, who suddenly had golden runes and wings like Jacqueline did.
"I-I don't understand — please, Gabriela, let go of me, please—" Jacqueline struggled against Gabriela's firm hands around her arms, flashes of memory coming back of men holding her arms and pinning her against a wall. Her eyes shut as she remembered that horrible night, and to her, the hands around her were not Gabriela's, but someone else's. She could feel the blood on her arms, could feel the sweat dripping down her neck, more aware than ever of the pulse in her throat—
And then she was sitting again, with Gabriela softly stroking her hair and murmuring to her to be quiet, that it was all okay. That nothing like that would happen again, that she was safe here. Jacqueline didn't understand anything that was happening, and when the moment of terror had subsided, Jacqueline peered up at Gabriela. "What am I?" she asked, reaching to touch one of the feathers on her wings.
"To put it simply, Jacqueline," she replied, "you're an angel. Just like me. Just like all of us who are here."
"But I'm a Shadowhunter, that's what the Silent Brothers said—"
"The Silent Brothers thought you were a Shadowhunter because they knew you had angelic blood." Gabriela smiled, adding, "They did not know, however, that you had, well, larger than normal concentrations of angelic blood. All your blood is angelic in nature."
"Tony was right," she said suddenly, the name coming into her head, the first one she had remembered since she had awoken here. "When that demon didn't attack me, he said it was because I had more angel blood, like Jace and Clary. He just... didn't know how much more."
"Exactly," Gabriela said. "It's the reason your runes never worked — Shadowhunter runes are meant for precisely that: Shadowhunters. You were never a Shadowhunter; the runes are meant to give angelic power to a Child of the Angel, since they are half human. You were never human; you never needed powers like added speed and strength to help you. You would've been able to heal yourself the night before you... came here, had you been fully trained as an angel and in full understanding of who you were."
"Tony said that I was good at training." Something inside Jacqueline made her think that someone else had said that same thing, but she didn't remember who that person was. Her memories of moments before here were spotty at best. "He said that I learned fast, much more quickly than other Shadowhunters did. Is that because of — because I'm, well, you know..."
"You catch on quickly," Gabriela replied. "You had the power of the angels in you forever. But you were more than just physical power — you also had true selflessness in you, that helped you save Lucy and the other children in your orphanage from Mrs. Ferrival. Not many other children could have done that. But you did — you would sacrifice yourself for others in an instant."
"I just did what needed to be done," Jacqueline said honestly, looking down at her hands. "That — that wasn't selflessness. It wasn't a big deal."
"It was. You've done absolutely wonderful things, Jacqueline D'Angelo." Gabriela paused, laughing a little. Her smile touched her whole face. "Your last name: D'Angelo. You can't say the angels never had a sense of humor."
Jacqueline couldn't believe the amount of information she was receiving, that was supposed to answer all her questions. Still, she had countless more. "Did the angels put me here? How did I end up here?"
"It's rather hard to explain." Gabriela's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "You see, the angels who live here are not like angels like Raziel. Those angels are far more powerful than we are. Angels like us — in this lower dimension of heaven — have different powers that can help us see into the future, but only somewhat. We knew Finn Herondale would need someone like you in his life, somehow. And so we placed you as a child in New York, near where he lived."
The word sent a shock down Jacqueline's body, like the feeling you get when you jump into freezing cold water. Finn. It was the first time she had thought about him since she died. How could she have forgotten someone who was so important to her? How could she remember his name but not remember quite how he looked? It was like she hadn't seen him in decades, rather than only a day ago. She remembered him, and remembered that he was important to her, but she didn't know why.
But at the same time as she felt that jolt of remembrance, she also felt rather detached from him, simultaneously. It was a strange feeling to explain. She felt like the Silent Brothers she had read about in the Codex — almost removed from things like human emotions. She couldn't remember details about him, like the way he laughed or his voice. All she really remembered was a name, and not all the emotions or the memories that went along with it. The thought scared her a little bit.
She knew that Finn Herondale wasn't a part of her life anymore, whatever her new life was. And she tried to convince herself that that was okay.
Jacqueline shook her head, as if she could clear her mind from these thoughts. She needed to ask a question, do something that took her mind away from those distant memories of the boy she had fallen for. "The orphanage?" she asked, swallowing a little nervously. "Was that you guys too?"
"Certainly not." Gabriela's voice was firm, although not unkind. "We are not all-powerful. We didn't — and still don't — have the ability to prevent what happened at the orphanage with Mrs. Ferrival. And Jacqueline, dear," she said, taking Jacqueline's hand, "I'm truly sorry about what you went through. No one deserves that, not at all."
"It's okay, actually," Jacqueline said thoughtfully. "It doesn't seem to... to matter to me anymore, if you know what I mean. I remember a little of what happened there, and I remember how I used to feel about it... But I feel sort of separated from the pain, if that makes any sense. Like, I had it once, but now the pain is over."
"A perfectly normal feeling, especially after one comes here. But we are sorry; we never would've intended that to happen." Gabriela stood up, looking both powerful and intimidating while also kind and motherly. "Jacqueline, if you'll come with me — I want to give you a better idea what you'll be doing here."
Jacqueline was overwhelmed as she wandered throughout the building she was in. Gabriela explained to her that this building was a kind of headquarters, where the angels — it was strange to think that she was now one of them — who had the highest positions directed everyday activities. The angels were meant to protect and help people who were still living on earth, often in the form of a stranger: helping a person cope with the death of a loved one, perhaps, or giving advice to someone they met in a coffeehouse, someone who was lost and uncertain. She knew that the angels tried to save lives, when they could: pulling a person away from unknowingly walking into traffic, keeping middle-school age kids away from dangerous people in the city parks, and things like that.
Gabriela was Jacqueline's mentor throughout all of this, the one who helped Jacqueline find a place to stay in this heavenly realm — a very small apartment, but it was all she needed — and gave her her first "assignment." She was also the one who had informed her that the angels didn't think anyone should be visiting people from their "old lives." While it wasn't forbidden, since the angels were too kind for that, it wasn't suggested. They thought it would make the people living too upset, and they wouldn't get the closure they needed. The angels didn't necessarily feel that same sort of pain that humans would, so it was more for humans' protection than anyone else's.'
Jacqueline didn't mind the "rule," at least not at first.
The first few weeks of living amongst angels had been strange. She still needed to eat and sleep as she normally had done, so that was pretty simple. But it was strange to be living in her own apartment — something she had never had before — and to be surrounded by so many people she didn't know. Though being told she was a Shadowhunter had revealed to her a world she had never known, she was still in the same dimension. It was a little unnerving to feel both alive and dead, not really in either place. Jacqueline of course knew that she had died, but she had never imagined that dying would be like this.
It came more easily to her than she had expected, being an angel. Her wings were only visible to other angels, and she liked being able to fly whenever she wanted. Going through Portals to go to the earth hadn't been hard, either, and being able to help other people made her feel so much better. The first couple times she had gone out, she had gone with Gabriela, but as she grew accustomed to speaking with strangers in whatever the situation was, she eventually went out on her own. Still, at this point, she had only been an angel for a few weeks — she wasn't supposed to take on any long-term relationships with humans because she might miss the human world. Supposedly the degree to which an angel missed his or her past life depended on the person, but at the moment, Jacqueline felt okay with visiting.
Jacqueline had gone around the world with Gabriela when she had first started, but she hadn't had to do much of the talking, since often the language spoken wasn't English. Gabriela assured her that as she got more used to her new life that picking up on languages — or at least learning a few helpful phrases — would be much easier.
Luckily enough for her, though, when Jacqueline had started going to earth on her own, they usually allowed her to go to Manhattan, since she was most comfortable with that area. It was in a little diner where she was sitting now, and she had ordered some French fries and a diet Coke. As Gabriela had explained to her, eating human food was fine, but now that she had a full understanding that she was not human but an angel, this kind of food would never sustain her or make her feel less hungry. She supposed that that was because the angels never wanted other angels to have the capacity to stay on earth if they wanted to; they had died, and it was against nature to allow them to just go back.
Still, even if the food would never fill her up, it still tasted good, and Jacqueline tapped her fingers against the table as she quietly observed the rest of the diner's patrons. In the dead of winter, lots of people had been coming inside, even if it was only for a cup of coffee. Jacqueline appreciated the warm jacket and gloves she'd been wearing while she was outside.
She spotted the woman that Gabriela had foreseen needing help, a very young woman with a toddler, sitting only across the aisle at a window seat. The toddler was crying, squirming in her mother's arms. The woman's clothes were a bit bedraggled, her red hair in a messy ponytail. Neither she nor her daughter were wearing warm enough clothes, and their shoes looked worn out. Though Jacqueline's memories of her previous life could be fuzzy at points, she remembered the way she had looked and felt when she was homeless. She recognized that look in the woman and her daughter the moment they sat down at the table — and Jacqueline could only remember sadness. These two people were in the same situation Jacqueline had lived in only a few years ago, she knew it.
Jacqueline watched them out of the corner of her eye as she continued to nibble on her French fries, listening to the mother try to calm her little girl down. The toddler was saying something about a toy that she wanted, and her mother was gently trying to explain to her that she wasn't able to get the toy right now. It broke Jacqueline's heart.
She quietly slid her jacket off her shoulders and made sure the gloves were still in the pocket. In a zipped-up pocket inside the jacket, she slipped a few hundred dollar bills in. She had never held that much money before in her life, though it had only been distributed to her by the angels for this exact purpose.
When her waitress came back, Jacqueline paid the bill and left a bigger tip than she normally would've. Her waitress was on the other side of the restaurant helping a few other customers, and holding the jacket under her arm, she quickly strode over to the waitress before she could help another customer.
"Could you please do me a favor?" Jacqueline asked, smiling at the waitress.
The waitress looked a little tired, and Jacqueline felt badly for making her day a little more difficult. "Yes?" the waitress replied.
"Would you mind, um..." Jacqueline trailed off. Clearly, some things — like talking to strangers — hadn't changed in this new life of hers. "Could you just give this jacket to the woman at that table over there?" She jerked her head towards the woman with her daughter, and this time she saw the mother tickling her daughter, which made Jacqueline smile a little.
The waitress looked confused at Jacqueline's request. "I know it's a little weird," Jacqueline said, "but it would be really great if you could. Please."
The waitress shrugged, taking the jacket from her. "Sure, I guess that's fine."
"Thank you so much," Jacqueline said, and she quickly exited the restaurant. Once she had more practice, she would be able to better come up with what to do in these sorts of situations, a better way to lie or a more efficient way to give money to someone. It was still a little difficult, but she was learning.
When she turned the corner that the diner was on, Jacqueline could see through the window the woman looking a little confused with the jacket, but saw the delight on her face when her daughter snuggled up with the jacket, using it almost as a blanket. It made Jacqueline smile, too. Gabriela had told her time and time again that she wasn't supposed to form long-term bonds with people now that she was fully an angel, but there was nothing more that Jacqueline wanted than to make sure this woman and her daughter were okay. She hoped the money would help.
Still, something had been nagging at her — she remembered a woman with red hair, a woman who had helped her once, in her old life. She had been older than this woman from the restaurant had been, but the memory seemed too distant for Jacqueline to remember. She had been that boy Finn's mom, but she couldn't even remember her name, and Jacqueline suddenly felt awful about it.
She was walking the streets, not really paying much attention as she wandered around. She was colder, now that she was wearing only a sweater, but it didn't really matter to her. Her thoughts were elsewhere, jumbled up and confused. It was only when she found herself in a strangely familiar place that she realized where she had been walking.
She was only a few blocks from the Institute.
Surprised that she remembered the name, Jacqueline suddenly stopped next to a building, trying to stay away from the crowds of people who were walking down the street. She sighed, watching her breath puff out in the cold air. This wasn't right, what she wanted to do, and she bit her lip nervously as she tapped her fingers against the side of her jeans. Going to find that woman that she remembered, the one who she had been reminded of when she saw the young mother in the diner — it was a ridiculous idea. She knew how frowned upon it was to visit people from her old life, even if she didn't really remember much about them anymore.
But no one would be able to see her, and she didn't have any other jobs to do today. It felt a little selfish, but Jacqueline was filled with curiosity for the first time since she had begun her new life. She wanted to go the Institute, to see this woman, to remember her name.
It didn't take long to get to the Institute. She had the same feeling when she heard an old song on the radio and suddenly remembered all the words to it without having to think about what the lyrics were. She just... knew it. And in that same way she knew exactly how to get to the Institute.
No one was outside, which she was happy about. Although no humans could see her wings, they could still see her, so she glamoured herself with the strongest angel runes so that no one could see past the glamour, regardless of whether they had the Sight or not. She was invisible to anyone who could be around, so she hoped that there was no way the angels could find out that she had been here.
She was thinking about using the main entrance, but she wasn't sure exactly what would happen with the door opening and closing — could the people who lived here be able to see it or hear it? It seemed safest to try to look through a window or something, so she flew — it was strange to be able to say that, she flew — over to one of the balconies
Her feet touched down gracefully on the balcony, and she was pleasantly surprised, since more often than not, she ended up tripping over her own feet and having to grab onto something when she tried to stop flying.
She was even more surprised when she saw someone who wasn't the red-haired woman she had wanted to see.
It was Finn Herondale, the boy she remembered only little bits and pieces of.
She could see him through the window. He was holding a guitar, sitting on a bed cross legged. He was wearing a big t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and the bags under his eyes were prominent. He looked exhausted and so, so sad that Jacqueline had the urge to reveal herself to him, to take away her glamour, as if she could somehow comfort him. But she knew she could never do that. She had died, and nothing could change that.
Finn was running his fingertips along the guitar. He wasn't playing it, but he held it gently. She hadn't remembered the color of his eyes before, but now she noticed that they were green, although around them his skin was puffy and a little red. He closed his eyes, and she watched his chest rise up and down in purposeful, exaggerated motions as he breathed. Jacqueline figured he was trying to calm himself down, as if this was something that had happened before.
But why would a guitar make someone cry?
Jacqueline closed her eyes, copying Finn's breathing technique as she leaned against the balcony railing. She remembered sitting in a bedroom, a bedroom that looked a lot like the one Finn was in, singing a song about a girl in the city. By the Angel, what had her name been, whoever that girl in the song was? She had sung it a lot, hadn't she?
Delilah. That had been the name. And the guitar he was holding was hers.
Jacqueline, despite the absence of some of her memories, wasn't entirely clueless. The guitar had been hers; she had died only a little while ago. Finn was crying about her and her death.
She stumbled back from the window in rush, her feet slipping a little on the smooth covering of the balcony. This wasn't possible — she wasn't supposed to make people upset and feel awful. An angel was supposed to do the opposite of that. But there was no denying that Finn looked like a wreck, and he was so upset and it was all her fault. Here was a human being, a human being who had once been so important to her, and she couldn't help him and she could barely remember anything about him.
She felt like she was going to be sick.
Immediately, she ran and hurled herself off the balcony, letting her wings catch on the wind and flying as quickly as possible back to where she had Portaled from. She needed to go home, to get away from this boy, to get away from these feelings of loss and shock.
Clary, she thought, suddenly not even having to think of the name. Clary, you have to help him — because I can't, I can't, I can't.
—•—
It had been about a week since Jacqueline had died.
Finn had spent most of his time alone. Everyone had been trying to talk to him — his parents, Vanessa, Tony, the twins, even little Lizzie — but he felt better alone. He didn't know how to explain how he had been feeling, he didn't want to see the looks of sadness surrounding him that mirrored his own. He knew it was selfish, but he didn't want to be surrounded by their grief. He just wanted to deal with his own.
There had been no Shadowhunter funeral, no white clothes, no burning of the body — there was no body at all, anyway. When Vanessa and Tony had found him in the alley, they had barely gotten the whole story out of them, and they were all a complete wreck by the time they had been able to call Clary. His mother, the shortest of them all, had been the first one to hug all of them. He remembered sitting in the car, not really being able to think much. At some point, he had ended up in his room, passed out on his bed, so the Clave couldn't even question him yet.
He had used the Mortal Sword and told them everything that had happened the day after. They had been able to capture the few remaining vampires, and interrogated them, but the Clave had no idea why Jacqueline's body had disappeared like it had. Finn didn't know what happened to them, and to be perfectly honest, he didn't care. He was not bent on revenge; it was Caine's revenge that had led to all of this, which he now knew. He hated it all; killing those vampires would never bring Jacqueline back.
He was sitting in Jacqueline's room at the moment, holding her guitar. He thought it might make him feel more at ease as he read the letter that had been sent to him by Kristal. He wanted to be surrounded by Jacqueline, the one person he needed the most but would never have again.
Finn, the letter read.
I know you don't want to hear from me right now. I am the reason why Jacqueline is gone. I'm not looking for pity from you as I go on about my guilt. I just want to give you an explanation. I want to do something I feel like I've never been able to do with you: I want to be real.
I am a selfish person, but I did truly love you when we were together. I just didn't love you the right way, the way a person should love another. I don't want to say the reason for everything that happened between us was my mother, because I had the greatest hand in it, but she was certainly a part of it.
My mother had been in love with your father some time ago. I'm not sure when. I think it was before she married my father, but with her, I have no idea. She wanted revenge for your father never giving her a second glance, and so she told me to go to the Institute and mess up your family. She was the one who suggested that I try to date you.
I, however, am the one who went along with it.
She told me to break up with you so that you would be heartbroken, and, of course, leave your parents unhappy, too. If I didn't, I would be disowned. I know it's selfish. I picked material goods over the one person I loved more than anything else. But I had grown up in a world where what you owned was the most important thing, not who you loved. I thought my feelings would go away; I thought it would be easy for me to cheat on you.
It wasn't, Finn. But I did it anyway, because I'm a coward. My mother again sent me back here when she heard that Jacqueline had arrived, to create more chaos or something. I was trying to stay dedicated or whatever you want to call it — I was trying to listen to her — so I did come back.
But I think it was when I realized how much you were falling in love with Jacqueline — and how much I wanted to not become my mother — that I needed to leave like I did. I thought it would help you, if I got myself out of here before I self-destructed.
I've heard about how the Clave found out that I'm the one that Caine wanted dead, not Jacqueline. So even when I try to leave, I still cause more problems.
I need to tell you that I regret everything I did. As much as I didn't like Jacqueline, I'd like to think I wouldn't have left the Institute if I knew she was going to die. But that's kind of key here — I would LIKE to think that, but I don't trust myself well enough to know if I would've done that.
So I guess that's why I'm really writing you this. I'm staying out of your life, for good. I don't want to be the cause of any more pain, because that's really all I've ever done in your life. And I do love you, Finn, but I want you to know that I know that you don't love me anymore. It's probably for the best — I'm not sure anyone is capable of loving me the way I am now, so I need to get some time on my own and, I don't know, fix myself or something.
I really am sorry, Finn. I'm so sorry I've messed up your life, and I think the best way for me to fix what I've done is to just keep myself away from you.
Good bye.
— Kristal
Finn didn't really know what to think. Jacqueline would've said the right thing or been able to distract him; she had a knack for that. Finn just didn't understand why things had happened like this — someone so wonderful and kind and good had been murdered because they looked like someone else, for some sort of pathetic revenge.
Revenge. He thought back on the word again. Now he knew that it made Kristal's mom crazy; it was fear of being driven by it that made Kristal leave. He wondered where she was. Kristal was someone that he didn't think he could be around, at least not for a while. He hoped for her own sake that she was able to "fix" herself, like she had said. But he didn't want to see her. At a different point, when he was being rational and not filled with grief, Finn probably would've been able to understand that Jack's death hadn't been Kristal's fault. But at the moment, that was all he could think about. Finn knew Kristal was sorry, but that didn't change anything, because the girl he cared about more than anything was dead.
Finn was filled with disbelief. On top of his denying that Jack was truly gone, he couldn't begin to imagine the idea that Kristal had still been in love with him. He had to push the thought aside, and not focus on it. It wasn't that difficult, though, because he mostly just kept thinking of Jacqueline. It made his stomach tighten and his palms sweat to think of what life would be like without her. He remembered the early days, when she didn't like to be touched, and how much he wished he had known right away so he couldn't have made her feel uncomfortable. He remembered her stutter, and the way she told him after Pandemonium that someone like her didn't need saving. Curling up on the couch in front of the fireplace, listening to her open up about her childhood for the first time. Almost kissing her in the greenhouse.
He just wanted that feeling of being with her. What he wouldn't give to hold her just one more time, to tell her everything he never got the chance to say.
He ended up falling asleep on her old bed. She had never really had any particular sort of scent, nothing lingered on her blankets, but yet he felt like she was around when he laid in her bed. His last thought before he drifted off to an uneasy sleep was that he hadn't spent a lot of time in her room with her. He wished he had; it would've felt like he knew her better. He wished he had known how little time they would have together. How could someone he had known for such a short while have such a huge impact on his life?
The nightmares started that night. Finn had never been one to have very clear dreams, or ones that followed something that seemed close to a plot. He would've described them in flashes — a group of vampires that looked like the ones that had attacked Jacqueline, attacking his siblings, Lizzie and Eddy; his parents, never meeting him and Vanessa and Tony in the alleyway; Jacqueline asking him why he hadn't come to fight the vampires sooner. Most of the time the flashes of dreams were of Jacqueline. He saw her crying, sometimes, and somehow in the dream he knew it was his fault, but he didn't know why. He even once had a dream where he shot her.
They were terrifying dreams. Finn hated them.
He hated all of this. He hated feeling like he was going to collapse in on himself.
Why? he wondered, knowing that it was pointless to ask questions like these. Why did this have to happen?
—•—
"Jace, what did I do wrong?" Clary's eyes darted to her husband, who was standing in the glow of the window. "He's our son," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. "He's supposed to be happy and young and carefree and look like he wants to be alive."
Jace sat beside her on the couch, his arm around her. He didn't say anything; she thought that, perhaps, for once, he was at a loss for words. He kissed the top of her forehead, holding her close as she cried into his shoulder.
"The last few years have been terrible for him." Clary's voice trembled. "First Kristal, and now this? The girl he loves... dead." She shook her head. "I just... I always thought that this would come naturally to me. Having a son and all."
"You're a wonderful mother," Jace said quietly.
She closed her eyes, sighing. "I'm not. I'm terrible at this; my son looks like he wants to die and I don't even know what to do about it."
"You taught him how to love, Clary."
"What does it matter?" Clary said brokenly. "The only girls he's ever loved, the girls he would've died for, are gone."
"Love is like that," Jace replied. "There's happiness and joy, but there's also pain and suffering. They go hand-in-hand." He paused, tilting her chin slightly to look at her. "Clary, if he didn't react like this... I would think something was wrong. He loved Jacqueline more than anyone else probably ever has, and if he acted any differently, that would mean he didn't really care about her."
"He doesn't deserve it." Clary took Jace's hand. "No one should have to go through something like this. Not someone so young." She swallowed, her voice cracking. "Not our son."
"You did," Jace reminded her. "Remember when we first met? Clary, your mother was gone, you thought Luke was in league with Valentine, you almost lost your best friend, you thought we were siblings—"
"You know I don't like when you talk about that," Clary interrupted him, teasing him gently.
"And then, after we went to Renwick's, we were fighting with each other every other day, Simon was Turned, and your whole life was changing every day." His arm was still around her as he squeezed her lightly, pulling her closer to him. "And then you were discovering your Rune powers and just learning how to fight and meeting a brother you never knew you had..."
"So?" Clary sounded defeated. "Nothing, none of that, would have compared to losing you. Nothing."
"My point is, you went through so much, Clary. He's strong, just like you. Even if it's tough for a while, he'll get through it."
"I hope you're right." She stood up, brushing away a few tears. "I'm going to go to sleep. I love you," she said quietly.
"I love you, too," Jace replied, watching her as she left the room. He leaned his head against the couch, closing his eyes. Clary didn't cry often, and Jace was worried about both her and his son. Finn had always seemed more like Clary than himself, although Clary disagreed — Jace could see Clary's stubborn protectiveness in Finn, and he could tell that Finn felt guilty about Jacqueline's death. Jace knew that Finn felt he should've been able to save Jacqueline, although judging from everything Finn had told him about the vampire attack, there was nothing anyone could have done. Both he and Clary had tried to talk to Finn about Jacqueline's death, but he hadn't really spoken much to them. Jace knew his son was grieving, but he felt extraordinarily helpless — a feeling that he despised.
He couldn't think about this anymore. He was exhausted and unable to think very clearly. There was no point to sitting there, wondering what he could do to help his son. He needed to sleep, and then figure it out in the morning.
Jace stood up from the couch, stretching his arms back and walking to the kitchen, thinking he would have a glass of water before he went to bed. It was dark in the hallway, but he could see a light coming from the kitchen. He wondered who would be awake — it was past midnight, and he figured that the kids would be asleep. He figured it was probably Clary, comforting a crying Eddy, or perhaps needing a moment of quiet herself.
Jace didn't expect to see Finn standing in the kitchen, who had been far removed from the rest of his family by staying in his room for most of the past week or so.
The refrigerator light cast strange shadows across Finn's face and arms, and Jace couldn't imagine the last time he had seen him look so young. His hair was a tousled mess, and there were dark circles under his green eyes. Standing in a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt, exposing scars and Runes, Finn looked hopelessly lost — in shock, even. Jace could see the dazed look in his son's eyes, and the way he stood, slouched and broken.
Finn looked as though he was carrying the whole weight of the world on his shoulders, but didn't have any idea why he had to carry it. It was like he had truly seen real misery for the first time, and was so shocked by it that he didn't know how to understand it. It reminded him a little of the way Clary had been when her apartment had been ransacked right after her mother had been taken away, right when they had first met.
Everything about Finn broke Jace's heart.
"Finn?" Jace asked quietly, not wanting to wake anyone up.
"Hey, Dad." Finn blinked, looking too tired to be surprised. "I was just getting something to eat."
Jace nodded, for once unsure of what to say. "How, uh... how are you doing?"
Finn ran his hand through his hair. At another point, Jace might've pointed out how much of a mess it was — he had always liked things neat — but he knew that this wasn't the time. Finn replied harshly, "How do you think I'm doing?"
This was one of those times where Jace could see himself responding in the same way his son had. That being said, however, Jace could also tell that Finn's heart wasn't really in it.
"Don't," Finn said, his voice shaking more than he probably intended. "Don't try to analyze me or try to figure out what I'm thinking or whatever the hell it is you're doing. I don't want it. I don't need it."
"Finn, that's not what I'm trying to—"
"You don't understand! You'll never understand. I loved her!" Finn tried to spit out the words angrily, but his voice cracked as he whispered the next words: "I... I loved her."
And then he was crying, and Jace could see that his son was trying to hold the tears back, but he didn't care. Jace was hugging his son in a way he hadn't done since Finn was young and still shorter than he was.
"I'm sorry, Finn," Jace said. "I'm so sorry."
Finn stepped away from his father, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the refrigerator door. His eyes were red and he looked like he was tearing up, but he wasn't sobbing. Jace wondered how much he had been crying lately, as if this was the final straw. There was nothing left in him to cry.
"I never even got to tell her," Finn said quietly. "I never got to tell her I was in love with her. And now I never will."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I actually can't believe I wrote something this long. I hope you guys liked it! Were you surprised that Jacqueline was actually an angel? That was planned from the beginning. I thought making her last name D'Angelo was rather amusing, but I don't know, maybe it's just me, haha.
If for some reason you are confused by something that happened in the chapter (I would think that would probably be along the lines of Jacqueline finding out who she really is), of course shoot me a PM or review! I may have left a huge plot hole and not even realize it. :)
I think the last chapter got something like 100 visitors over the course of a couple days, so even if like, 10 of you decided to review this, I would actually be the happiest person alive. I really love to hear people's thoughts on this stuff, especially when I put a ton of work into it. If I'm putting effort into doing something, I'm hoping that people can take maybe like two minutes to tell me what they think! :) Even if you just say something like, "I loved the Clace scene!" or "Mimi, you had grammatical errors everywhere," I will really, really appreciate it! I can't tell you how disappointing it is to have no idea what people feel about a chapter when I spend weeks on it.
The next chapter will be the final chapter! I can't believe something I started writing when I was 13 (I'm 16 now!) is actually so close to being completed. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.
Love always,
- Mimi
