He was cutting the vines from his body as fast as they grew.

After dragging himself from the manor house, he pulled himself in front of a tree.

The muscles of his wrists were tiring from trying to pull the thorns and blossoms from his body before it completely covered him. Angry stripes of scarlet already wrapped from his arm to his shoulder.

They were growing faster; the panic he felt was measured in the beats of his heart where the curse was desperately trying to get. He was trapped in a web of roses and thorns, and as he desperately tried to insert his control over the curse he heard a loud bellow that carried out from the manor and reverberated in the forest around him.

It made him pause at the eerie silence that came afterwards. Then, furiously he started hacking at his binds.

"Damn that snake woman! If I ever find her I'm going to shove these damn roses down her throat!" He cursed, letting his frustration over power his panic.

The sound of battle had ended, and Jaime had no idea what side won. A chill ran down his spine at the scream. It sounded like Kit, and the last thing he knew was Ty being held like a bargaining piece with a dagger against his throat.

That was before he ran away.

He had tried to lunge with Durendal but he felt the curse activate as soon as he took a step forward. A familiar pressure had pushed against his skin. He could feel the thorns already cutting their way out. The swiftness of the plant growing under his skin took his breath away.

Jaime wished he could say it was the pain that stopped him, but it was the fear that if he took another step closer he would die.

He saw Ty's furious face as he tried to gain the upperhand, but the problem was obvious. Subconsciously his body was pulling him to the left, away from the gun positioned near his ear. He couldn't overpower Christopher if he was pushing into his center of power from that angle. Then there was Kit, who looked nothing less than murderous. His eyes were fixated on the other him, his fingers twitching with anticipation around Caliburn.

And then he ran, making himself believe that Kit with his powers, and his admittedly impressive fighting skill, could handle it without him, that they would have to.

He wished he could say he didn't see Kit turn towards him looking to him for help.

But he did, and he still ran.

Slumped against the tree now, his fatigued brain tried to tell him he had always been self centered, he never did anything unless he would get something out of it. But the wrongness that pounded in his heart telling him to fight must have known otherwise when he never did.

When had he started caring about risks, especially in a fight?

He wasn't acting like the same person who rushed to rescue Dru, or his brother. He didn't know who this person was. The same person that could act on gut instinct just as quickly as ambition.

That was the real curse, he realized bitterly, taking a fist full of twisted vines and thorns and ripping them out, it was trying to change him into someone else.

The pain was sharp but it wasn't quick, the thorns snagged on his skin, the roses got trapped under his flesh. He gave it another sharp yank, finally pulling himself free. In his hands now were the remains, roses painted a deeper red from his blood, red spattered against his skin, the thorns hung limp, trailing like snakes against the ground.

Jaime rested his head against the tree, his body felt raw and sanded down, his head pounded sluggishly.

Despite his body trembling and the amount of blood that coated him, he knew he hadn't lost that much.

He would be fine, just fine.

Taking a deep breath while feeling his wounds protest in pain as they stretched with his muscles, he reached behind him to grab Durendal.

The fight was likely over, but he would at least come back with a weapon in hand. But the doubt that he could still fight whispered louder and louder in the back of his head.

His hand found empty air when he tried to grasp the hilt.

Jaime's heart skipped a beat.

Very slowly, with his breath held he shrugged off Durendal's sheath to find it empty.

Finally, the sword had abandoned him.

The air left his lungs as did his strength. The sheath rested in his lap, cradled by thorns and cushioned under roses. He watched with empty eyes the blood seeped into the leather of the sheath.

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Warm tea had been placed in his hands, a blanket thrown over his shoulder, but no one tried to move him from the floor. He remained staring in shock at the ground. His jaw tightened and locked from the strain he had put on it, his throat swallowed compulsively as more emotions tried to overwhelm him.

He was numb to everything around him, from Jem's patient presence sitting next to him, to the sound of Will wailing as Tessa tried to put him to bed.

For a while no one talked about what happened, and Kit let the silence pull him into darker trains of thought, until Tessa came back.

"You do not know what became of them, do you?"

It wasn't a question that needed an answer. Tessa knew as well as he did that he couldn't control his powers when he teleported other people alone.

He couldn't stop the mistake from repeating itself over and over in his head. How could he have acted so recklessly when Ty was at stake? What was so wrong with him that he had to destroy everything?

Despair sunk him deeper into the floor. His mind tried to recoil from the question.

He tried to say a number of things, but all that came out was a whispered thought, "He could be in the Void."

"The Void? What do you mean?" Jem asked.

Kit shook his head, putting his face in his hands. There was too much to explain, and the time it would take would be wasted not saving Ty, but how he was supposed to do that? He didn't know. He doubted anyone did.

His hands shook remembering the look on Ty's face just before Kit had sealed him away.

Even then he didn't look afraid, but maybe that was the worst part. He was startled, but still he was a Shadowhunter, and when he looked at Kit it was still with complete confidence, as if he could never imagine him failing him.

Until he had.

"I snuck into Pandemonium," he replied lamely, still staring motionless into his cup of tea. He couldn't get the image out of his mind, it was a new ghost that would haunt him.

Tessa, who had come to kneel beside him, stiffened at the mention of the club.

He couldn't help looking up at her. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her by bringing up old wounds.

There was reluctance in her gaze, but it was steady. But that wasn't what he noticed when he looked at her, it was the gray of her eyes that he dreaded to see. Sometimes when he looked at her he couldn't help but think of Ty, and wonder if it was through Tessa's line that he had inherited the unusual color.

"You have heard my story. You don't need me to tell you how dangerous that was," she calmly said.

Suddenly everything he had contained burst out of him, "They're working with Sammael-They've always been. For centuries, trying to create a vessel for the Wicked Powers. I'm that vessel, my powers are from the Void, he wants to use me to bring the Void here. What if I sent Ty there? He could be-"

Jem placed a hand on Kit's back. "Kit, Kit, relax, you don't have to get it out all at once."

Kit looked between the two. A look passed between them, Jem had a look of concern he couldn't hide when either he looked at Tessa or Kit, but he tried harder to hide it when he was looking at him.

"We knew of others trying to replicate Tessa's unique birth, but we have never heard of Pandemonium's connections to Sammael."

Tessa reached for him, pushing his hair from his face. She was shining with affection. "You are only assuming the worst case scenario, Kit, there are a million other possibilities."

"What if I can't find him? What if he's trapped, or dies because of me?" He started asking questions furiously to no one, angry that no one could answer him.

Tessa cut him off, surprising him by pulling his head closer until she could wrap her arms around him. "I know you love him, I know how much his absence has haunted you. I'm sorry we have let you think otherwise. But we have been here for you always, we won't let you face this alone. We will find him, together."

He was stunned into motionlessness until the numbness faded and found himself reaching for her like a child.

Tessa's words halted as she took a shaky breath.

Kit loosened his grip on her to pull back, and saw tears in both Jem's eyes and rolling down Tessa's face.

Jem had maneuvered around so he could put his arms around the both of them. "Nǐ huíláile"

Kit didn't understand much Mandarin. Jem had tried to teach him once but Kit gave up after a week on it. But he didn't need to understand the language, Jem had put enough emotion into the words that he didn't have to.

He knew whenever Jem spoke it, it was only with affection. Without the verbal guilt of him disappearing he knew with those short words he didn't understand that he was loved.

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"Get some sleep," Jem told him. Tessa was already in their room to get some rest. Kit had briefly explained what was going on, everything except for Lyonesse.

"I will," his voice was still rough as he spoke. He was leaning on a wooden beam of the archway leading from the breakfast room to the den.

His eyes were half closed, and even though he felt sluggish and tired he knew his thoughts would keep him awake for hours.

The image burned into his mind might never let him sleep again.

Jem hesitated, "Is there something you're not telling us?"

Kit peered up at him. Jem was still giving him that anxious look.

"If I have it's because I'm too tired to think of what else to tell you." He lied.

But the flatness in his voice was enough to convince him not to push it any further.

He rested his head against the cool wood as Jem finally left him alone.

There was no way he could sleep while Ty was missing. Just being reminded of it turned his exhaustion into a physical illness.

If only he could just erase the memory of this long enough for him to focus on finding him.

He tried, but everytime he closed his eyes he saw Ty.

Ty lounging on the ledge of window drawing in a sketchbook, captivated by something he saw. Ty staring up in awe at the school of fishes swimming past his fingertips in Lyonesse. The way Ty looked under the waterfall with droplets falling down his face and hair, his white clothes damp from the mist highlighting his frame.

The feeling of his body pressed up against his in Alicante, and how both of their breaths caught. The sweet taste of him on his lips, and the way their bodies moved tangled in one another.

Those memories were supposed to comfort him when Ty would finally have to leave him. A light in his darkest hour that reminded him that he at least had been loved by him. But it was his darkest night now, and every memory proved to be a nail in a coffin of guilt he found himself slowly being buried in.

"Where's everyone?" Jaime's voice sounded defening to Kit's ears despite his somber tone.

Kit froze, hearing the door click behind Jaime, the same one he had left through.

Slowly he turned to look at him, their eyes locking.

The look on his face caught Jaime off guard. When he tried to open his mouth to say something else Kit just lunged for him.

He was faster than Jaime, using his power to close the distance between them.

Grabbing a fist full of his gear, Kit raised Caliburn to his throat.

Kit threw himself at him hard, his whole body weight coming down on top of his as he pushed Jaime into the wall.

He gasped in shock, the wind knocked out of him from the collision.

"Why. The. Hell. Did you leave?" Kit growled.

Jaime's shocked expression turned to anger as he jerked his head to motion at his shoulder.

Kit looked. He hadn't paid attention to his appearance before, but now he saw that half his gear had been ripped off. There were indentions like spider webs from the vines he pulled out covering most his torso and arm. Only the area around his heart remained intact. His body was still bloodied, and there was a sheen of sweat still plastered on Jaime's face.

But Kit couldn't reign in his anger, not when he closed his eyes and all he could see was Ty. He was breathing hard, spitting out the words, "You were right all along. You're not a Shadowhunter, you're a coward!"

The dark aura was back around Caliburn seeping from the blade meanicingly. Jaime flinched, but if it was from either his sword or his words he didn't care.

He pushed Jaime again before stepping away from him to sheath his sword.

"If you're going to take it out on me then you might as well tell me what I'm taking the blame for," Jaime's voice rang out coldly in the same room he had fled, leaving Ty to vanish.

The one time Kit really depended on him, trusted him even.

"Ty is gone." He choked out, shoving him hard against the wall before walking away. If he didn't make himself pull away now, he was afraid of what he might do.

"What?"

"I said he's gone, Jaime!" He shouted over his shoulder. "He's just gone."

Jaime was stunned into silence, then whispered, "But what happened?"

"I-" he tried but the words twisted on his tongue, he couldn't say it, he couldn't accept that blame out loud.

"An accident caused Ty and Christopher to vanish together. For now that is all we know." It was Jem reappearing in the doorway.

Kit's shame wouldn't allow him to look at him, instead he fixed his glare on Jaime.

"We are all exhausted, going over this again before we rest will do no one any good. I suggest we all go to bed, all of us this time." His tone started out gentle before it turned into his parenting voice. Kit knew it wasn't a suggestion anymore.

"I could use a nap," Jaime rolled his shoulders, "If you don't mind me cleaning up first." He shot Kit a meaningful look, his grip tightening around the bundle of papers in his hands.

Kit's attention was drawn to it, and remembered the mission they were on just earlier that day.

The Book of The White, he had almost forgotten all about it.

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Kit was blinded by light. He pushed the Shadowhunter away from him, slashing his dagger around him wildly until his vision returned to him.

He had to blink several times before he could believe what he was seeing.

The rich little manor house was gone, instead he was standing in a strange world.

Stretched around him were trees bearing strange fruit shining gold, the vegetables looked as red as the freshest apple, his stomach turned over at the sight of them. Herbs and vegetation grew underneath his feet, beautiful ferns grew tall like a natural screen. The lush greenery and stretches of lavender and dragonsnaps were expansive, stopped by a huge stone wall that surrounded them. But even the stone enclosure wasn't enough to keep it contained as he saw trees and hills breaching the walls at several places where the forest spilled over to the other side.

The stone of the wall looked ancient, covered in moss, fractures cracked the rock, some parts of the wall had been chipped away.

His mouth dropped open in awe. Something about the sight in front of him shifted, but before Kit could concentrate on it a sound to his left told him he wasn't alone.

Ripping his gaze from the beautiful strangeness of this place to see the Shadowhunter still with him.

The perfection of this place seeped into every inch of this place, and this Nephilim, Ty, was no exception.

The falling sun cast down on him in a luminous glow. He was haloed in a bright golden light, his skin was bathed in the color as if the light was coming from within. He had eclipsed the sun, and for just a moment Kit's universe shifted to align with him.

That was until his eyes found the knife in his hands and awoke from his daze.

The beauty that had momentarily transfixed him now angered him. A pretty face might have been good enough for this world's Kit to enslave himself to these people, but not him.

While he stood in awe at this place the Shadowhunter clearly wasn't surprised, his knife was ready, his body in position for another fight.

"What did you do?" He demanded an answer.

His eyes didn't even shift in his direction. It wasn't surprising, but it irritated him beyond reason that this boy wouldn't look at him while he shined like a god.

"I didn't do this, Kit did."

Hearing his name on the other boys lips also irritated him, there was a note of possession there that unnerved him. "With that power?" The teleportation that he witnessed was new, he had never done that before so he could only guess at its limits. He slowly discovered his powers when he came in contact with the members of Pandemonium. He still remembered how easily he had tricked the Riders into taking him prisoner instead of outright killing him. It wasn't too long with the hint that the pixie gave him in the Unseelie power that he had Faerie blood. Only after he had integrated himself more and more into Downworld did he learn just what it meant.

"He accidentally teleported us here. His magic is harder to control when he is projecting it at a distance."

Kit tried to make a comment that it was his power too he was talking about, but the throbbing in his head was back. For a moment he was able to forget about the fever being pushed through his body. His old wound only flared up at the worst time, the thing just never gave up on trying to kill him.

The Shadowhunter was still lit up by the sun, but now the light in his vision made his head swim. He flipped the knife in his hand with ease while he thought.

"No, I don't know what this place is either. I doubt Kit even knows where we are," he answered a question that Kit couldn't remember asking.

When he tried to take a step to steady himself his strength suddenly left him.

He had ignored it for as long as he could, pushing himself to the brink again.

His back hit a tree behind him. Completely weakened he let himself slide down the bark until he hit the ground.

A sudden chill left him shivering while at the same time his head felt like it was in flames.

The dagger he tried to grab shook wildly in his hands. His fingers fumbled for the gun, but that was even heavier than the dagger. It was no use, he couldn't defend himself.

The Shadowhunter came to stand over him, his knife still in his hands. There was nothing else he could do but glare up at him, he at least wouldn't cower in front of him.

"You're hurt," he observed. There was no inflection in his voice that Kit could infer from.

"Oh, really? Gee, thanks Captain Obvious! Why don't you tell me what my hair color is while you're here?" He grinded out.

There was no reaction, he just bent down to get a better look at his wrist. "That wound is from a demon," he determined somehow, "and it's infected with the poison still."

Kit felt his suspicion briefly turn into confusion at how he had known all of that.

"Let me see your arm, please." He didn't lift his gaze to meet his, but the intensity he looked at his wound and the grim set of his mouth made it all too plain to see. It was practically a plea. It was so pathetic it should have been revolting, but instead he found himself complying.

He nodded his head just a fraction, but even with the consent the Shadowhunter hesitated.

Kit almost took it back with how long it was taking before he gently lifted his arm so he could examine it.

"It looks like a Raum demon, but the demons from Thule could vary in their similarity to ours." He frowned.

Kit didn't know how he knew so much, but he didn't know much about demonology himself either.

"The infection must have made the poison worse when it wasn't treated." He pulled out one of those magic sticks Shadowhunters used to draw their runes with.

His breath caught at the sight of it so close to his skin, instinctively he tried to move away from it.

But the boy never brought it any closer to his skin. "You should let me heal it, or you could die," he responded to his alarm.

Thoughts ran wild in his head at the offer, he could easily use that thing to draw a rune that could make him sick or hurt him, even kill him. Yet somehow he doubted he would do that.

Kit had never tested drawing a rune on himself before, it might not even work, then what would happen?

He knew he should refuse but the intense look of desperation the other boy, Ty, was giving him made him curious. He hated him, obviously, but there was nothing wrong with being a little curious about someone's picture you've seen a thousand times. Someone who supposedly cared for him. The other him that is.

His eyes never left him as he watched him suspiciously, making himself relax under his grasp. A wave of unmistakable relief washed over his face.

This guy was on another level of stupid, letting his feelings for the other version of himself get him worked up. What business did a Shadowhunter have getting so upset over any version of him anyway?

It made Kit want to hurt him, remind him that he at least wasn't some Shadowhunter pet to be doting over.

But he didn't.

His touch was gentle as his fingers laid underneath his arm to expose his wrist. it put Kit's nerves on end. He had never been touched like that even once in his life, and he couldn't say that he liked it.

The point was brought down just underneath the angry festering wound, his movements precise and swift.

Kit felt his skin burn at the contact and almost yanked his hand back to punch him.

But Ty tightened his grip just slightly as he flinched. "Stop moving," he demanded with no hint of fear as if he forgot or just didn't care that Kit was a threat to him.

"Is it supposed to sting like that?" He hissed with barely concealed panic.

Ty pulled back as he finished. "It's your first mark so it will hurt more than most others, but you get used to it if you choose to use more marks."

Kit felt the wound begin to stitch itself. It was an unsettling feeling how the skin weaved itself back together.

Immediately his head felt clearer, like the fire had been doused in cold water.

With the pain easing away, he pulled himself up a little straighter, giving the Shadowhunter another skeptical look "And you're not worried at all about me attacking you now that you've healed me? You didn't even make me promise not to attack you, do you have a death wish?"

"You could just lie to me either way, I hardly see a point seeking out any promises from you," he merely stated. He was still sitting on his knees making no move to guard himself. Kit had no idea what was going on in this guy's head, it was throwing him for a loop, he knew at least for sure he had never met anyone like this Shadowhunter.

At a loss he went for his favorite tactic, insults, "And I bet you would have believed whatever I said too, wouldn't you?" he sneered.

"Possibly, I know you're a liar but that doesn't mean you can't still be convincing," he answered without a hint of insecurity, no fleeting anger on his face or the clenching of his jaw.

Kit found himself speechless at the honesty of his response, there was no defensive quip, no vulnerability he could poke at.

How was he supposed to respond to that? Everything about this Tiberius Blackthorn surprised him.

And if he had learned anything about surprises in his lifetime it was that they usually ended up killing you.

"Look, I'm not getting anymore of your stupid tattoos, I'm just not proud enough to let myself die if some idiot Nephilim wants to go around healing his enemies."

Ty dismissed his insults choosing only to address the sentiment of the statement, to Kit's great annoyance, "You weren't exactly keen on getting marks in this world at first either."

A wave of revulsion at himself washed over him as the words set in. The feeling of relief from his healing wound suddenly felt like a taint spreading in his body.

He had let this boy disarm him, leading him astray just waiting to indoctrinate him like he did this world's Kit. The very reason he was made weak and ignorant in this world was sitting in front of him with the audacity to pretend to be offering him kindness.

What it was, was Shadowhunter arrogance thinking he was better living with their rules, as if he needed them. He never needed protection from any Clave, in fact, he survived in spite of them, and he didn't need a Tiberius Blackthorn in any world either, and he would prove it.

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Tessa had woken up early to pen a letter to Magnus, a thank you for saving her son, and a rubukement of his decision to keep the news of his arrival a secret, and as always an offer to come over for tea sometime.

She didn't think she had ever written a letter to him that did not include some small reprimand for something he had done. Though this particular incident had stung especially. Still, she could not say it wasn't something she expected from Magnus.

Though he liked to put on airs, he could never refuse a young heart in need, Tessa suspected he never would. It was one thing she still had real hope would never change.

An hour later she received a return letter from him.

She turned in her writing desk to watch Jem's chest fall, the blanket she had tucked around him still held snug.

Carefully, she unfolded the letter in front of her.

It contained a truly somber apology that made Tessa forgive him far too easily. But it was Magnus, he had saved her Will, and he had been there for her when he died, when Jem was still a Silent Brother and she was just beginning to feel the first sting of immortality. She understood better than most that he had been many things over the millenia, but malicious was never one of them.

The next was a quip to lighten his previous apology, something about hoping Kit had received a bath and haircut, unless the missing in time was a look he was trying to perfect. But the humour was short lived.

What followed gave rise to the dread in her heart. It was a warning of incoming attacks on Shadowhunter Institutes, including and especially the one in New York.

Warm hands weaved around her midsection, Jem's presence washed over her as his face nuzzled into her neck.

He mumbled something to her, but in what language she wasn't sure. Sometimes when he awoke he might mix his languages or say them incompletely until he was fully awake.

Instinctively, she relaxed at his touch, choosing to let her head lean on him while he peeked over her to read the letter.

She watched his eyelashes blink away his grogginess, his dark eyes sharpening into focus.

To have him so close to her, to see his eyes unclouded by yin fin was her own morning ritual to remind herself that the changing of time was good, even if painful. If time had never moved Jem would never see the world again, he would never walk without a cough, and he would never have lived without the need for that silver box.

She took a deep breath and drew his presence in. He no longer smelled like the sweet scent of the drug but the lilac softener on their bed sheets.

He shook his head, letting out a chuckle. "It would seem that there will always be a group of young Shadowhunters at the center of every crisis." He was responding to the information that Drusilla Blackthorn had discovered this new intel.

She smiled, her head still leaning against his, "The youths are the very heart of change, and no one will fight for it as furiously as those kept back from the last generation."

"Still," Jem said, "I would have hoped that this time, with these adults, that the children wouldn't have to be the ones to be thrust into our problems."

She tucked away the note, putting it in the small drawer of her desk. "No matter how big the progress has been, it will never be perfect. There will always be something to fight for. I think even those with the best intentions might be blinded by the flaws they themselves had created when trying to change the world for good."

"We will have to tell them," he sighed.

Tessa stood up, and smoothed the wrinkle in her clothes. "If you get Will, I will prepare breakfast."

The weariness on his face told the same story as her reflection in the mirror. Their joy at their son returning home would have to be short lived, but that was often the life of a Shadowhunter, and they were determined to respect Kit's decision to live that life. In fact, they were proud of him for finally declaring what should be his. That did not make it easier to put more stress on him, however.

With a solemn nod they left to prepare for the day ahead.

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It didn't take her long as she approached the kitchen to hear whispered voices.

Quietly, she crept over the tall arches dividing the kitchen and den.

Kit was leaned over a pile of papers with Jaime, the both of them discussing it in secretive whispers. She could tell by their closed off body language that they didn't want to be disturbed.

She watched Kit's face as he turned to say something to Jaime, there were dark circles under his eyes, the brightness of his blue eyes had vanished.

She hated to see that, it reminded her of when he first came here, uncertain of a decision he hadn't made as willingly as he said.

He was running. She knew it from the moment he told her he didn't want to say goodbye to the Blackthorns. She had her suspicions it had something to do with Tiberius, since they had been inseparable previously. Their strong connection was something the Blackthorns had mentioned they were thankful for, and she began to expect that Kit would decide to become his parabatai and stay with him.

She knew how off her suspicions were when she brought him to the beach during Magnus' wedding. There was obvious heartbreak on his face, and a resolution that made his body tremble against the winds from the bluffs. As a mother of Herondales, she was well acquainted with the look he watched Tiberius with.

Kit had come to her as a teenager, damaged and hurt by wounds she could not see. But that never made her love him any less than her own children. He was an easy child to love, and to know he was neglected, believing he wasn't good enough for love, absolutely broke her heart.

She and Jem had spent many late nights discussing how they could undo that pain, but the best they knew was to always show their love to him whenever they could, and to give him the opportunities and reinforcement to believe he could be enough, for anyone, and especially for himself.

She watched him now, a new sword strapped to his chest, and his gear that he no longer fought to move in.

The day he had gone to the Academy had brought conflicting feelings. She was constantly worried about someone discovering his lineage, but tried to reassure herself that Ragnor was there to look after him. Besides, it was the day they were all looking forward to, the day Kit could stand proudly on his own on this difficult path he had chosen.

She knew in his own way he was still running from something, even if he didn't realize it yet. But that would have to be something he grew out of on his own, and she never had any doubt that he would.

When Kit had told Jem that Tiberius was at the Academy with him, Jem had immediately encouraged him to reconnect with him. Her husband knew better than anyone about the lasting wounds of regret, and of course Kit was far more likely to listen to him.

Tessa had longed to call Kit her son for a long time, she wanted to be the mother he never had, but just because he never knew his mother didn't mean he would appreciate someone trying to step in to claim that place. So, out of respect for both Rosemary and Kit, she waited until he was ready to decide what role she could give him.

Jem had been a different story, he had immediately looked up to him. Perhaps he filled something inside him he had long craved for from his own father, or maybe it was the only parental figure he was used to.

Of course it didn't surprise her, Jem was kind, patient, loving, all of the things Johnny Rook never was. He had been to every Shadowhunter Market in the western hemisphere, and he would train him in something honest, fighting to save lives instead of cheating people for money. Kit might have liked the idea of being like his father, but there was something earnest in his soul that Johnny never had.

Kit himself had always been kind, moral, with a desire to protect others.

She straightened up, walking into the kitchen.

Their heads snapped up, Kit shuffled the papers into his hand unconcernedly. His act didn't work on Tessa, she had seen that too many times to know he was hiding something from her.

She frowned, in all the ways he had grown and changed, his secretive nature probably never would.

"I have received word from Magnus about something I think we should discuss."

"Is it about Ty? Did you ask him to help?" He asked quickly, his apprehension sharpened his edges, reawakening him.

"I did, but there is something else going on that won't wait in the meantime."

He had looked away from her the instant she answered, glaring at the table.

She knew it wouldn't be something he wanted to hear, but it was important to be as straightforward nevertheless. "Drusilla has gained intel informing us that the Cohort will launch an attack against the Institutes, this could happen any day now."

It looked to her that Jaime Rosales smiled proudly before it faded into something more dower. "Which ones?" He asked.

"Not all of them, it seems to be a modified version of Sebastian Morgensterns attack. Most likely by his son, the attack will hit the Institutes around the coast, Drusilla suspects that their main focus will be on the New York Institute."

Kit's eyes flickered up at that, a spark of something temporarily reignited. "Are they prepared, presumably Jace knows by now?"

Jace and Kit's relationship very much resembled an older and younger brother. They teased each other relentlessly and tried to get under one another's skin. But somehow Jace's persistence paid off and though Kit would deny it, he cared a good deal for his cousin.

Nodding at his question she also added, "But even though we received a warning that still does not give us very much time to prepare."

Kit leaned on his elbow as he said, "You say 'we' because you're going aren't you?"

"Jace is also my family, and Jem will always feel a debt to any Herondale that needs him. If that is where their forces are focused they will need all the help they can get."

A blankness fell over his face, she knew, to hide his thoughts.

Jaime stood up immediately, shrugging on a jacket Kit must have given him, strapping a weapons belt around his waist.

It seemed like a bizarre friendship considering the fight she had heard last night, but she had seen many true friendships blossom from what was once mutual loathing before.

He took the papers from Kit's hands. "Are you coming? The Blackthorns might be in trouble."

It was as if Jaime had struck him by the reaction Kit gave him. He looked stricken, his eyes widened at the question as if asking it was an incomprehensible betrayal.

He turned completely pale, his gaze fixated on the stone floor."I can't. Not now, not after what I did."

She understood his pain, and the expression on Jaime's face told her he wasn't going to fight it either. To him it must feel like he murdered the one he loved. It was cruel and terrible what fate had brought him. She had hoped finding Ty again would have alleviated the pain he had held on to for so long, but for better or worse he was suffering for it. Tessa wished nothing more that she didn't have a responsibility to her friends and kin, so she could focus every second of bringing Tiberius back to him.

Abandoning any boy, notably the one that so easily held her son's heart was terrible as it was.

Jaime sighed, "I figured that might be your response, not that you can't just easily change your mind."

Tessa got to work immediately to create a portal for him, there was no time to waste with so much at stake.

Jaime looked into the swirling vortex a frown on his face that just grew bigger the longer he stood there. When he finally took a step, he turned around to tell Kit one last thing. "Try not to worry, if death itself can't kill the two of you, this won't."

"Excuse me?" Tessa asked.

"It's just a joke. Don't mind Jaime, he's just an ass," Kit said quickly.

Jaime turned back to the portal with a wicked grin. "Some would say a royal ass, it's a lifelong ambition of mine to ascend to royalty."

With that he stepped through the portal, a ghost of a smile could be seen on Kit's lips before he turned away to stare emptily at the table.

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Ty frowned, stepping away from the tree Christopher was laid against to get a better look around him. Trees bearing fruit, vegetables thriving such as tomatoes, watermelons, and radishes sprouted above the weeds and shrubbery that surrounded them. It didn't seem to Ty that these were the type of conditions such plants needed to survive, but they had grown with a healthy lush all the same. Everything was inordinately green, the sound of birds and other animals were ample sounds surrounding them.

Then Ty scrutinized the wall further, there was a place where dirt had piled and spilled over the wall, trees upheaved and bent in that direction as if pulled by an unknown force.

He took a step forward to investigate when he heard the sound of a gun cocking.

He whirled behind him to see Kit-Christopher holding his gun out aiming straight at Ty.

"Y'know, I wasn't lying when I said I've been waiting for a chance to see you again."

"But why?" Ty asked, truly astonished, but he choked on the rest he wanted to say.

He stood facing him, his back turned towards a wide field of wheat that shined like golden fibers as the sun set. Kit was like the sun itself against the pinkness of the sky that refused to set.

It was easy, Ty thought, far too easy to find himself struck looking at him, and then for an instant he forgot entirely it wasn't truly him. But he looked like him, sounded like him, it was entirely impossible to know the difference until he spoke. The hatred in his voice when he spoke to him was so palpable that he had no trouble recognizing it, it struck him every time like the lash of a whip.

Christopher slumped a little, letting his arm holding the gun drop a fraction. Ty could tell he was annoyed. "To kill you, obviously. Here I thought you might have been smart but you still couldn't figure that one out, Sherlock?"

Ty swallowed. He was using the term mockingly. He had heard it at the academy to his confusion until Dru had explained that Allen Highsmith meant the opposite when he called Mason, Sherlock. Which was a rather rude thing to say to Mason, and found it for one personally insulting.

Christopher didn't understand that when he said it mocked the memories he had of Kit calling him that. In his bedroom when he had been desperate, the hopelessness that he may never succeed in this mission was surrounding his mind. Until, for the first time Kit had called him Sherlock, not as an insult, as a sign he believed in him. Then again when they danced together, Kit's hair swept back from running his fingers through, blonde curls sticking to his damp face, his skin hot to the touch, and when he looked up at Ty and smiled, it was dazzling.

But this wasn't his Watson.

"I know that, I meant why would you want to kill me? You don't even know me."

Kit's expression retracted to unreadable then back to fury. "I don't need to know you! In fact it goes further than that. I wish in any world that I had never known you!"

Ty went completely still, the sound of his own breathing catching in his ears.

Hearing those words from his voice was enough to send him reeling, his legs wavering uncertainty.

"And now," he announced, holding the gun straight again, " I never have to make his mistake."

His senses returned to him as the danger became very real. "If you kill me you will have to figure out where we are on your own, and I don't think you can."

He snorted, but Ty noted he lowered the gun.

"Oh, but you think you can? If you got everything figured out then where are we?"

Ty looked back to the hill encroaching on the wall. "I have a theory, but I will need more evidence."

Christoper was silent for a long moment, perhaps considering something himself. He muttered under his breath before marching up to him.

He grabbed Ty by the collar, but this time Ty was expecting it. He braced himself, putting a warning hand over his, clenching his hand tightly.

If it came to another fight Ty could overpower him easily now that he knew about the gun.

It never came however, as Christopher glanced down at their hands, his breathing was rough, and Ty standing so close, could taste it. It wasn't any different from when he had kissed his Kit, his Watson.

Suddenly the skin where they touched began to grow hot.

"You're right, I can't kill you. Best chance of us getting out of here is for him to come looking for you, and when he does I'll be there. Those are the terms, deal?"

It was a straightforward deal, Ty knew instantly not to trust it, but he didn't see the trap. At least for now, it was beneficial to them both.

"Deal."

Instantly, Christopher took a step back from him as if touching him would contaminate him. Ty was glad when he did, letting the unsettling feeling pass.

He took a deep breath, the air was crisp here, clean and untouched. Yet, there was something wrong when he breathed in the air, just as he noticed a feeling pressing down on him. A headache pulsing behind his eyes.

Ty tried to pay it no attention for now, choosing to make his way to the hill. After a moment Christopher followed behind him.

They scrambled up the bank. Ty easily jumped from one foot hold to the next, swinging himself from the branches of the willow tree to reach the top. As he reached the top he glanced down at Christopher who was making much slower he was closer Ty offered him a hand.

He stared at it, a shadow passed behind his blue eyes. Ty really thought he was about to slap it back when suddenly he reached out to clasp his hand.

The familiar sensation of his hands intertwined with his was strange despite being expected. He knew every groove on his hand, knew exactly how it would fit with his.

He must have hesitated, letting his thoughts wander because slowly Christopher's eyes lifted to look at him.

With another deep breath he hoisted him up to the top of the wall.

Quickly letting go of one another, they turned to face the other side of the wall.

He heard the intake of a breath beside him and caught a glance of Christopher's hands turned to fists.

It was an ocean of water, the vastness of it Ty could only guess at. A heavy fog obscured most of their vision, but when the mist moved almost like clouds he could catch a brief glimpse of other land masses far away.

It was disappointing, but Ty didn't think a place that had been walled off and forgotten about would be so easy to leave to begin with. He jumped down the wall, landing on one of the branches lightly, the way he had been taught to do since he was a child. Carefully, he pulled back the curtain of branches and leaves hanging from the willow tree over the stone wall.

When they were walking over Ty had noticed that some of the cracks may not be just cracks but instead markings.

Indeed when he pulled back the branches he could see up close that some of the long cracks that ran up and down the walls were actually engravings. Long looping curves stood in a set among others, other groupings were longer or shorter. Ty quickly deduced it must be a language, one that resembled very much the runes in the Gray Book.

These were different in several ways, he noted to himself. These were constructed words not a symbol for what it emboldened on Nephilim skin. It was the language of angels that were never meant to be understood by anyone else. They had taken a sliver of it, just as they did their powers and given it to Nephilim.

He knew he could stare at it and do as much research as he liked and never find the answer for what it said, unless maybe he had access to the Scholomance or Spiral Labyrinth, he thought distractedly.

Still, it might have given him the answer he needed. He looked over his shoulder across the wild plants and pooling waters under waterfalls until he found a single tree at the very center towering over everything else.

"Ty-Tiberius, what are you doing? I need to know if I should keep standing here or risk my neck falling through the trees to get to the ground."

Quickly, he climbed back up the wall, his thoughts were still working everything out but he decided his assessment was sound enough.

"Did you figure anything else or were you just hoping I would fall off the wall eventually?"

Ty was still thinking, trying to make sense of everything. He had not read about it besides mythology, nothing concrete was ever written in their histories to know for sure this place really existed. He hesitated to state what he thought out loud. If he was right, and he usually was, he had no way of knowing what that would mean for them.

Slowly, he asked out loud as he worked through his thought process, "What was Faerieland before there were Faeries?"

Christopher looked out at the tangle of plants, many of them had shifted and twisted in the direction of the wall, trees had grown into the stone work, and piles of ivy and moss climbed the walls. In some areas Ty suspected the wall had fallen completely until the land had shifted to squeeze as much of itself outside, filling the gap.

"I don't know what the point of making it a riddle is, but my thought was Faerie too." I spent more time there then I cared for before I finally got out. There are plants I recognize that grow there, I even saw a few animals that were like the ones I saw." He looked up at the sky, night was settling around them. "And that is definitely the sky of Faerie."

The sky was streaked with brilliant colors, showing a spectrum of blues and violets Ty had never seen before. The constellations were different too, just like the sky he had seen in the Feasting Hall in Lyonesse, some of them were strange, and some of them were present when they shouldn't be.

"That's not why I asked that question," Ty said, "think, Faerieland was said to exist here even before the mundane world, but Faerie's themselves weren't always there. Many stories say they were the offspring of demons and angels, so then what was Faerieland before them?"

Christopher ran his hand through his hair. Ty realized his thinking out loud had frustrated him.

"I don't know, if you have your theory now why don't you just tell me?"

Ty sighed in irritation. "I think it was Eden, and now we are standing in the garden."

He whipped his head to look at Ty, his eyes blown wide. "The Garden of Eden? You can't be serious, what the hell kind of theory is that?"

"It is clearly a garden overgrown, yet it still grows, the walls are marked with the angel's language and the tallest tree at the center matches the description for the Tree of Life. There are not many other places this could be."

"But how do you jump from that to all of Faerie being Eden?" He was staring at Ty intensely, trying to catch his eyes again. It was making him steadily more uncomfortable, as was trying to translate the thoughts in his head.

"The correct translation of the original Hebrew, gan-beeden, means the Garden in Eden, not of."

He pointed out to the rivers washing out into the sea behind them. "And there, the rivers are flowing to the outside all of the vegetation is. God had asked for Adam and Eve to have children and live as rulers here, it must have been expected to be able to expand. Angels were also commonplace in a lot of biblical stories in the Garden, in fact they are meant to guard the Tree of Life still."

Christopher just shook his head, "it's impossible."

"Improbable," Ty corrected. "But I don't see another likely explanation."

"But there has to be," he sounded desperate as he looked over the Garden. "Who is going to look for us in the Garden of Eden?"

Something bright like a light caught the corner of Ty's eye directing his attention. Near one of the river ways at the wall was a scorched earth, embers still burned bright on the charcoal ground, and standing in the middle was a pale golden figure with long wings curling around itself.

Ty crouched down, yanking Christopher with him, directing his attention to the bright flames lapping around the ground. "Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth," he whispered.

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Dru must have run around the institute twice by now. She had run into her family and members of the conclave but she had yet to find Livvy or the Rebels. Her heart was sinking fast. The news had spread to the Counsel and the rest of the Institutes. They were preparing as fast as they could for an attack at any moment.

She knew the Rebels from Thule would have a meeting soon to decide how they would react, and Dru also knew she wouldn't be invited this time. Now anytime one of them had looked at her it was if she had betrayed them, the worst part was that she had. But that didn't mean she wasn't right either. It didn't mean that their new plan to attack Ash wouldn't leave everyone vulnerable.

She had to find Livvy before she went to their meeting.

As she reached the stairs she found Cameron Ashdown standing around looking lost. He was in full gear, several seraph blades strapped to his belt.

"Cameron!" her voice carried like a bark. And though she hadn't meant it too, it was still surprising when Cameron jumped and stood in full attention like he was waiting to take orders from her.

Livvy had told her that he asked to join the Rebels so he could be of more use. She had sounded very reluctant to tell Dru that information, but she couldn't imagine why. Maybe he hadn't heard that she had been effectively kicked out.

"Where's Livvy?" She asked, as if she expected him to be waiting for her.

He looked around him again, then shook his head. "I was hoping to find her, but..."

Dru tried to undo the knots tightening in her chest. "Look for her, and when you do tell her she has to talk to me before she goes to that meeting."

Cameron's eyes lit up, "So they are planning something?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it," she practically growled the words.

His eyes widened. "Well sure, if you say so," he said before taking off down the hall in search for her.

She had almost reached the bottom of the steps when a portal flared to life in the entryway.

For half a second she was hopeful it was Ty, and that Jaime and Kit would be soon after. She had no idea if they even knew what was going on, she assumed Ty must know if he was visiting the Counsel like Livvy had said, but what was taking so long? They had been gone all night without any word. She was used to them being secretive, but she thought this time it was different, this time they were in on it together. But then again, she knew Jaime was keeping something from her as much as it hurt to admit it. He wasn't even being subtle about it anymore, but that hardly counted as honesty.

And as for the other two, all she knew was that they were on a mission, but if something had happened to them-

Her worries were cut short as Jaime pulled himself through the portal. Green clouds detached itself from him as he traveled all the way through.

Brown eyes lifted to meet her's, but there was no laughter there for once. His expression was grave, and as the portal closed behind him, Dru thought her worst fears were about to come true.

She ran to him, leaping over several steps to get to him faster.

Pensively, she asked in a whisper, "Where's Kit, Jaime? Why isn't he with you?"

He put his hands on her shoulders, but she couldn't relax at the touch. "He's fine." But the biting of his lip told her otherwise. "Listen, the mission went bad, luckily Ty was able to find us and brought back up. But something else happened."

Every pause he made caused her to lose her breath again. His eyes were trying to search her's, but there was nothing hidden there he couldn't plainly see, there never was. She had always told him her secrets.

"We got a message that told us the other Kit-Thule Kit was at Tessa's and Jem's. So we went, and then..." he trailed off, not wanting to tell her the next part.

Her face hardened, "You need to tell me Jaime."

Hesitantly, he nodded, "He took Ty by surprise, holding him hostage, Tessa and Jem were paraylized by some sort of trick like Ash's. Kit tried to get Ty away from him by using his powers to send the Thule Kit somewhere else and..."

"But he can't control that. He's told us that, he told us he couldn't, and he wouldn't.." She started in alarm.

Very quietly he answered back, "He did, and we don't know where Ty is yet."

She couldn't look at him, her eyes were swimming. It was always the same thing happening over and over, first Mark, then Ty and Kit in Faerie, and now no one knows Ty was missing alone. How many more times can this really happen before they run out of luck? It was only a matter of time before someone doesn't come back for good.

Slowly she looked back up at him as an idea came to her. "What about you? What were you doing?"

"What?" He looked surprised, but more than that he had turned suddenly pale.

"You were there weren't you? What were you doing while that was happening?"

He looked speechless, Jaime Rosales had actually dropped his jaw losing his composure. Scrambling for words he finally said, "I-I was holding back Kit's little brother. He had gotten thrown into the chaos and I was trying to keep him from running into the line of fire."

Dru took a step back away from him, pulling herself out of his arms. "You're lying. Why would you lie to me about this?"

His face twisted in pain, but his mouth had clamped shut.

Her eyes drifted behind him where the hilt of Durendale usually stuck out. Except it wasn't there, he had the sheath still strapped to him but there was no blade.

"Where's Durendal, Jaime?"

He looked away from her grimacing but he still didn't answer her.

Her blood was boiling, he did something he was ashamed of and wouldn't tell her. She couldn't, she wouldn't believe he had something to do with Ty disappearing, but why wouldn't he just tell her then? What other reason could there be for Durendal to choose to leave now? And even if that wasn't true, how could he keep what had happened to her brother a secret?

She angrily blinked away the tears in her eyes. He had been lying to her, she knew it, she just didn't want to believe it. She wanted that promise they told each other when she was younger to be true, a bond between them that no one else had. No one had Jaime like that, ever, just her. But that was never true, she was still just playing pretend.

Deadly soft she recalled the words of her last promise to him, "I don't think there's any reason left for me to believe in you, is there?"

His head was bowed, his hair falling in his face casting it in shadow.

It gripped her suddenly, the anger and the sadness that he had already given up. She wanted to believe in him, all he had to do was give her a reason and she would. But that wasn't good enough somehow, it wasn't enough to make him try. "Are you going to say anything?"

"It doesn't matter anymore, does it? Whatever I say it will all be the same."

She sucked in a breath through her teeth. It was infuriating and shattering to hear that. She touched the seashell necklace he had given her. He had always come back to her, but now she was realizing it would never be all of him.

"Make it up to me then," she said stiffly.

He looked up, his eyes shining unusually bright while Dru forced her hand to stay sturdy as she reached out. "The entiendad. Let me use it."

Jaime's face twisted like she had never seen it, she might as well have carved out his heart with a blade. It almost made her change her mind, but she kept her hand outstretched, waiting.

"Dru, you can't, not now, not when-"

"I need it, now. It has to be now." She wanted to break it, the way his eyes danced around her as if he would never see her again could be the end of her resolve. In this moment he seemed so real, the most real he had ever been. Only he let all of his walls come down, now when it was too late.

So much for that date lamented, stifling a sob. Just thinking that made things so much harder. That promise made her feel completely renewed like her life was all leading to something wonderful. Another promise that held as strong as a loose spread, and like the others before it, it snapped against even the dullest blade.

Slowly, he brought it out of his pocket, the small twisted wood that brought them all to faerie as a team over a year ago, and she felt herself sinking that there was no words for either of them to say.

Wordlessly, he handed it over, his hands sliding over hers. His touch didn't linger on hers, but the way he brushed her with his fingers told her he wanted to. The impulse to close her hand around his before he let her go was hard to fight, until the chance was gone.

Her breathing stopped, and the tears were back in her eyes. The moment broke when she closed her hand around the artifact. A single tear slipped past her eyes as she closed them before disappearing.

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It was dark when she opened her eyes, but the sky shone brilliantly with the millions of lights above her. The stars were scattered like a light dusting of snow, she half expected them to float down to earth.

A cottage that looked to have about two floors, a thatched roof and a tall chimney sat near the edge of a cliff.

As she walked closer she knew for sure this was Ash's cottage. The ocean swelled below her, currents whirled in different directions while waves bashed against the rocks beneath. When she looked out at the endless water she could almost imagine it was the same ocean that would eventually find it's waves lapping the beach by her Institute.

But this was Faerie.

She had never really thought about Faerie having its own sea, no one had ever mentioned it's existence before Ash. Then again Lyonesse had been somewhere, and if Lyonesse existed who knew what else might lie on the other side.

Taking a deep breath she turned back to the cottage. She was stalling, afraid that Ash wouldn't be there after all, and part of her was racing at the idea that he might be there.

Both possibilities were somehow just as intimidating. Standing there at the edge of the world, she recollected herself. Before she went any further she closed her eyes, and packed everything about Jaime away. His smile, his charm, the way he could convince her to believe every lie. It was effortless to love him, and it was painful to let herself realize he wasn't what she wanted to believe.

It's hard to reconcile what she always knew she would feel about him. Reckless, mischievous Jaime, she could never erase him from her heart. But she couldn't put him on a pedestal either. What was worse was knowing that it was her fault, not his. The one thing he never lied about was who he was. He had never, she knew, pretended to convince her otherwise.

It was stupid to have tried to change him, it just hurt both of them.

She took a deep breath and put it all behind her for now, realizing she could not face Ash until she did.

Finally she was ready, and walked up to the front door with her heart pounding. She was never invited here, just because he had given her a warning didn't mean he really wanted to see her either.

She lifted her fist to knock on the door before feeling stupid for knocking shyly while there was an emergency going on.

Instead, she opened the door, calling out before she stepped inside, "Hello? Ash?"

There was no answer, and as she slipped in she could see that the cottage was completely dark save for the open windows spilling in moonlight.

Immediately, a beautiful ivory piano caught her attention. It sat by a window, a layer of dust discolored the perfect white instrument.

The rest of the room was much cleaner, the plush cushions that made up the chaise were a rich red. Mahogany bookshelves rested on either side of a smoldering heart leapt as she looked at the small embers in the stone hearth.

She pushed the rest of the door open, and when it did the moonlight that poured through lit up a boy with feathered fair hair leaning on a windowsill nearly covered by a luxuriant layered curtain.

Her heart skittered to a halt, his eyes a brightness in the dark turned to see her.

Ash.

She stood frozen under that gaze, his expression was completely unreadable. It had been so long since she had last seen him, and she didn't exactly leave him on good terms, not to mention she had stolen his sword.

Her throat caught, the words she wanted to say fell dead in the air around them.

Then there was a crack in his armour, his expression broke for just a second before he looked away hiding his face from her's.

She was drawn to him, reaching out as she tried to close the distance.

"Ash, I..."

Then just as suddenly he looked up, his eyes piercing. "You're sorry?" He finished for her.

She stopped. Unsheathing Phaesphoros to hold it out for him to take.

It was a perfect blade for him she thought. The dark blade shined silver in the moonlight, and the stars shined even brighter. He had always been like a star waiting to burst in her mind. A light that could burn away the darkness.

The sight of the blade seemed to leave him stricken, his conflicting emotions for once etched on his face. And then it smoothed over.

He shook his head, "The blade is yours to wield. I have never known how I felt about the blade, and thus it never responded to me." He looked up at her again. To her he looked as though he was made from the moon and stars, beautiful and elegant, and so very far away from her.

Quietly, he said, "Phaesphoros means light bringer, I think it's obvious it should be yours."

"I never mean't to steal it from you," she let her fingers curl over the blade to accept it.

Reluctantly, he admitted "In truth, I was glad that you did. As long as you wielded it I had hope that you wouldn't forget me." He closed his eyes like he was trying to banish an unwanted memory. "I know who you are Drusilla Blackthorn," his eyes opened to look at her. Light danced in his eyes like faerie lights in a forest in the moonlight. Smiling slightly he said even softer like a secret. "Dru."

He had never called her that before, somehow when he said it made her name sound completely different to her ears.

She felt her heart fill in her chest. The regrets of the past year that had hung over her head like a guillotine softened. Finally, she could breath.

Still, there was a distance there that hadn't been present before that she badly wanted to change. She remembered carelessly playing video games with him, eating together in his palace in her room away from everyone, just two teenagers, neither Shadowhunter or Prince.

Tentatively, she reached for him.

He turned stock still, staring in confusion as she drew nearer.

She stopped, withdrawing her hand staring timidly at the space between them, her voice came out shaky as she asked, "Do you hate me now?"

He stiffened, "Hate you?" What about you? How can you not hate me? After what I did, after taking you and your brother prisoner.."

"If I hated you I wouldn't have tried so hard to keep the Clave from killing you!" She told him furiously.

Her words shocked him. But why he was still so reluctant to believe her, she didn't know.

"But why?"

"I told you didn't I? You're not fighting this alone, I told you I would come back." Her determination soon turned into embarrassment when she realized how it sounded when she said it out loud.

He turned to gaze out one of the windows. There was a sadness on his face now that he didn't try to hide. "You were right, all along. I should have listened to you. Janus has lost sight of himself, and me. I was to believe I had the control more than I wanted to see my life for what it was. I thought I could save him but instead I selfishly prolonged his suffering."

"Clary did the same thing at first," she told him, "I think at one point he did really love you, and that part of him will forgive you."

He sighed in irritation. "I wish the comparisons would stop between myself and Clary. I'm not who she was, I never will be. To everyone I have just been a replacement for something, a patchwork of spells to replace the First Heir, or a replacement for my aunt's absence."

"Not for me," she dared to say.

The bitterness fell from his face leaving only his uncertainty.

It was strange and fascinating to see him so unguarded. She didn't know if it was the darkness around him that made him less careful with his expressions, but Dru found herself trying to catch every look and every smile.

But the look he was giving her now was almost painful to see the intensity in his eyes. "I know, and you should know you're not just a girl in a picture to me. Knowing you now it's almost silly how I looked to that thing to tell me who you were." The heat rose to his cheeks as he said it, tinting his porcelain skin. "But you didn't come here just to give me back my sword," his voice changed into something more business like.

It snapped her out of the moment and made her remember why she had come. "I also wanted to give you this back," she handed him his codex. "Before anyone else could get a hold of it.

He took the book carefully in his hands, vulnerability flashing across his face.

"And there's something else."

He looked up at the sudden urgency in her voice.

"My brother, Ty, he's missing. He could be anywhere," she said, unable to keep the emotion in her voice. She felt her face fall in exhaustion from it all. If she lost him, it felt she would become completely numb forever.

"One of your other brothers?"

She suddenly found it too hard to even shake her head. "The one that was with me when we first met with black hair."

"And you want me to find him? Dru, I can't-"

"No, just let your soldiers know to capture him, not kill him if they see him," she interrupted. "Please."

She searched his eyes waiting for his response. She held her breath, afraid that after all maybe he wouldn't help her."

Finally, "I owe you a brother for the one I locked up from you. If I can, I promise I will return him to you."

Relief flooded back into her veins. Looking at him now he had transformed into a regal King giving out a decree. He stood tall, his head held high, and his voice was final. It was the first time she could remember feeling awed at being in front of a King of Faerie.

He looked at how flustered she was, and a small quirk of his mouth returned the smug expression of the spoiled prince she remembered meeting. "What's wrong? It's not like you to be overwhelmed with gratitude."

For a moment that distance was gone when she felt that spark again. "It's also not like you to not wait for me to boss you around, but as you can see we both can change." But her smile fell flat, the relief she felt was gone the instant she remembered what awaited her back home. Neither of them were here to stay, it seemed like a brief reprieve from everything in the world. She understood more than ever why Ash loved this place.

But they couldn't stay. Here it felt like the world was holding its breath for them to return, but she knew better then to hope time could stand still.

"Dru? There's something else, isn't there?" His voice rang clear in her misery. She looked up at him to see his head tilted to one side, his eyes studied her. The feeling made her feel very exposed, but it quickly passed when she saw him take a hesitant step towards her.

He had just lifted his arm just a fraction when she reacted without thinking.

Very slowly, just like she used to when Ty was very young and his temperament had been unpredictable, she put her arms around him.

Her arms slid around his neck, her body pressing against his, and very slowly as she clung to him he responded back. His arms came around her waist so carefully as if he was afraid he would hurt her.

Something went through her at his touch that surprised her, and then another ripple of confusion as he leaned his head against hers.

Just as soon as they relaxed into the hug, he doubled over, clutching onto her shoulders.

She pulled him back to look at him. His head was bent down, his teeth clenched as he reached up to grab at his heart. He hissed through his teeth in pain.

"Ash?" She reached to pull his hand away from his chest. He resisted her for just a second before letting her pull his hand away.

His shirt was stained over his heart, the black liquid imprinted on his skin.

"Sammael did this to you," she whispered.

"No," he gasped, "I did this, he only facilitated the process." His face tilted up to look at her's. His green eyes pulsed with a sudden darkness. "This is just the price I have to pay, and it's getting worse. You should leave before you have to pay it too."

She ignored this, pulling his collar back to look at it. It was worse than she thought, and nothing she could fix with an iratze. The spidery black lines stretched out from the black center trying to spread throughout his body.

She froze in horror, she didn't want to believe him that there was nothing that could help him. But looking at it now spreading across his pale skin, his eyes turning the color of coal, she couldn't help the fear that it was too late.

No matter how hard she had fought or what she did it was too late.

Even now she could see a light within him fighting the darkness.

The unfairness of it brought her back to her senses making her more stubborn than ever. She wouldn't let it be too late, not know, not when he was finally fighting.

"You're not giving up so stop talking like it," she demanded. "No matter how many times you say it I know you have never given up."

"Heh," he gave the smallest laugh as he took her hand and pulled it back. She stared as he slowly let her go, a finger at a time.

"Believe me, I will raise Hell before I let them win, and if I leave I will leave them all in ashes."

He smiled, but there was something behind his words that chilled her.

A promise of destruction to bind them both in the blame.

In that moment she thought she could see a vision of a new realm of hell born in the ashes, and standing alone was only them.