Hey guys! Here's another chappie for you! Just a sort warning, this chapter once again

CONTAINS THEMES OF SEXUAL AND PHYSICAL ASSAULT

which may be disturbing for some readers. It is not graphic, but may be emotionally distressing.

Jace sat on the bed and twirled his mother's ring between his fingers, his gaze absently fixed on it as he mused about the significance of such a small object. He had gotten home from work only an hour prior and found an empty house. Clary had gone out to spend the day with her mother and had clearly not yet returned. He took the rare opportunity of having the house to himself to deal with the object that had been plaguing his thoughts.

"I can't say for sure that I would have fallen for you…"

Recently, Clary's words had been whispering in the back of his mind. He had been thriving off of the success of their first date, been allowing it to reassure him that this could work. That eventually, he could convince Clary that his feelings for her were real. But even then, riding off the high of their passionate kiss, he had known. He had seen her smile, so bright and free, and knew that he could never ask her to put the ring back on. He recalled the relief in Clary's eyes when he said he couldn't find it, confirming his suspicions.

"I created a little prison," he mumbled, regarding it begrudgingly. He had taken an object that once represented his parent's love and had turned it into a diamond-studded cage. He didn't know what to do with it, where to put it so that Clary's wouldn't find it. He had been carrying it with him as a precaution, but had come to regret that decision. He could feel it burning a hole in his pocket throughout his work day, a constant, stinging reminder that Clary couldn't love him back, not like this.

He groaned and flopped back on the bed, thinking now about the incident from several nights ago. About the fear in Clary's eyes when she came to the school to get the full story. "I was in a really bad relationship in Florida…". He didn't know the details, but he felt his stomach twist just thinking about someone hurting her. No wonder she has been so hesitant with him.

"Jace? Are you home?" He hadn't heard the front door open and the sound of Clary's voice startled him. He dropped the ring and cursed as it bounced on the bed and started to roll away. He quickly jumped at it and shoved it into his pocket just as Clary's figure appeared in the doorframe.

"Hey!" he said, attempting to sound enthused, "Welcome home. How was everything with your mom?"

Clary smiled and walked over to him. He felt the bed shift as she sat down, close enough for the scent of sage and strawberries to wash over him. He had begun to associate that smell with home, and the smell of it now made his heart swell.

"It was good!" she said, with a big smile. She had clearly been missing home, and spending time with her mom had helped remedy that longing. He'd noticed Clary being much brighter since her mom had come to visit. "We went back to that junk shop that had my mom's painting and guess what? It used to be her gallery when she used to live here. I had no idea… I guess I'd always just assumed my mom always lived the small town life with Luke."

"That's really cool," Jace said with a smile, "Did you get the painting?"

"He gave it to my mom for free, actually. They're going to be selling the place soon. The owner said he didn't feel right selling it to my mom, since it's her art to begin with. She brought it home to Sebastian."

"It must have been surreal for your mom to be back there so many years later, to see it turned into a junk shop."

Clary laughed, "My mom said it had been a junk shop then, too. She's just being humble though, her art is amazing."

Jace glanced over at Clary. He rarely saw her so bubbly. Her eyes were bright and shining, excited by what she had seen and learned today. And her smile was so genuine he felt for a moment like he couldn't breath. When her eyes met his he couldn't help but smile back. She was infectious. He was feeling giddy just by being near to her.

"If her art is anything like yours, then I believe you," he stood up and offered her his hand, which she took. Her cheeks were red, though if it were from his words or their touch he couldn't tell. He always felt warm around her, felt burned where they touched. "Maybe the two of you could take me there this weekend, I'd love to see it and hear your mom's stories."

Clary's eyes shined with glee, "Really?"

"Really," he smiled warmly at her. His heart almost felt full, seeing Clary so happy. Still, he could feel the ring burning a hole in his pocket. Warning him that he was not responsible for this happiness. She was happy because she was with her mom. She was happy because she was free from being his fiance for the day.

"Now," he said, walking towards the kitchen with Clary in his wake. "What would you like me to make you for dinner?"

Clary bit her lip nervously. Jace was painfully aware of the habit, and everytime he noticed he felt his heart constrict. He half wondered if Clary was aware of its power, if she did it on purpose. "I was wondering…" she said coyly, trying to hide her smile as she walked over to Jace's small collection of cookbooks. He watched her curiously as she looked through them, "if we could get Taki's?" she said at last, finding the take out menu among the books.

Jace laughed as he grabbed his phone to order, "I would never say no to that."

"Okay," Clary said with a laugh, scrolling through the film options, "How about… Megashark vs. Mecha Shark?"

The two of them were situated on the couch, empty takeaway boxes on the coffee table, besides two glasses of wine. They had decided to watch a bad B-movies and were still giggling at the absurdity of Sharknado.

"What about Sharknado 2-4?" Jace asked with a laugh, "Can't handle more of that franchise?"

"Hmm, good point," Clary mused, looking over the second Sharknado movie.

Jace shrugged and sipped from his glass, "I picked the last one, you decide. I don't mind what we watch."

Clary laughed mischievously, trying to assess the sincerity of Jace's statement. "You're saying I can choose anything?"

Jace grinned at her, "Anything." He promised.

Clary recalled the time she had thoroughly searched the apartment and cackled with glee. Jace raised his eyebrow at her as she bounced off the couch and disappeared into the bedroom. She had found a box of DVDs from what she was assuming was homevideos, hopefully from Jace's childhood. When she brought them back out, she saw the color visibly drain from Jace's face.

"Except those," he said sternly.

Clary smiled devilishly, "You said anything."

"Clary," Jace sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He met her eyes, his molten gold irises pleading with her, "I don't even know what you're going to see on those clips."

Clary frowned in thought. Jace looked vulnerable, suddenly, as he normally did whenever the subject of his past and family came up. He was so guarded, she thought. She wondered if she would ever really know him. "Is this something you've never showed anyone before?" she asked, her voice more gentle than before.

Jace sighed, "If this is where you want to call your side of the deal, then fine," he offered her an unconvincing smile, "I thought you were going to use it to see the tattoo on my butt."

Clary laughed as she sorted through the DVDs. "I doubt that I'd be the first person to see your butt, Jace," she said, scanning over titles. Alec's 8th grade graduation. Isabelle karate tournament. Jace's 10th Birthday.

"It might be a new tattoo," he teased, nervously watching her sort through the DVDs, "Maybe I only got it after I met you. Maybe it says your name on it."

Clary's fingers stopped when she saw Jace's 9th Birthday. "I thought you said you were adopted by the Lightwoods when you were 10?" she asked, looking up at Jace.

He swallowed thickly, "I did."

Clary searched Jace's face, looking for permission. She could tell Jace was uncomfortable, and she didn't want to upset him for the sake of her own curiosity. Jace sighed, sensing her hesitation, and took the DVD from her.

"It's the last birthday I celebrated with my father," he said as he put it into the DVD player. His voice sounded terse, and he came back to sit beside Clary, she shifted closer to him. He glanced at her in surprise. Jace was always careful to respect her boundaries, but it was also rare for Clary to initiate contact between them. She felt he needed it, as she observed the stern clench of his jaw, his posture rigid. She slid her hand along his arm, fingers brushing against his bare skin. She shivered at the contact and wondered if his skin burned the same way hers did. Their eyes met as her hand found his, and the unease in his eyes had vanished. Instead there was an affection so plain Clary felt her face burn.

There was so much passion in him, and yet he was so reserved. She couldn't imagine bottling it all in the way he did. Art was her outlet, it's what she poured her soul into. Did Jace have something similar, she wondered, or was this the reason he was wound so tight?

"You're staring at me again, Fray," he whispered, his voice thick. As she studied him again, she noticed that his posture had relaxed.

"It's not too late to show me your tattoo instead," she offered with a smile, squeezing his hand.

Jace raised an eyebrow at her, "Are you trying to undress me, Fray?" Clary felt him squeeze her hand back, "It's okay, we can watch this. I don't think I've seen it before, truthfully. I could never bring myself to."

They were still staring into each other's eyes. Clary's breath felt short. "What did you ask for?" she asked, "For your birthday?"

Jace smiled, "My father would always let me do or have whatever I wanted for my birthday," he laughed, "I asked for sword fighting lessons," he grinned at her, "I've been training to be your knight in shining armor my whole life."

Clary laughed as Jace turned on the recording. Sure enough, there was an adorably angry little boy with a mop of blonde hair, wooden sword in hand. He was in the front yard of a beautiful house, dueling with a private instructor.

"Where are you?" Clary asked, in awe.

Jace looked a bit sheepish. "'Wayland Manor," he said, "It was my family's estate in Connecticut. I grew up there, but its been long sold now," he laughed, a bit darkly, "Aren't any Waylands left anymore, not biologically anyway."

Clary held his hand tighter, "You're a Wayland by name," she said, "And your father loved you and considered you a son. That's enough," She looked up to meet his gaze once again and the guilt and sadness in them broke her heart, "I'm sure he'd be proud of you now, Jace."

"Good boy, Jace!" Came a voice from behind the camera, turning both their heads. Jace had perfectly executed the move his instructor taught him, and now he triumphantly held the wooden sword to the instructor's chest , "good job, my boy! I'm so proud of you!"

Little Jace beamed with pride at the camera. Clary felt tears well in her eyes and glanced up at Jace, who's expression was unreadable.

"Jace?" She whispered, pulling his attention away from the screen. He offered her a sad smile, but there was also something warm behind it. Something loving. She thought that maybe it was cathartic for him to watch these videos. "Do you want to watch another one?"

She could see the tenderness in his eyes as he nodded. "For my fifth birthday, I asked for a spaghetti bath."

Clary laughed and grabbed the case labeled Jace's 5th Birthday.

Clary and Jace had burned through nearly all of the home videos, including the ones with Alec and Isabelle. It had been fun for Jace to watch his relationship with his siblings progress through the years. Clary had fallen asleep a few videos back, her head laid softly against his shoulder. It was getting late, but there was one more left that he wanted to see. He gently moved Clary so as not to wake her up as he put in the last video, labeled Jace's 1st Birthday.

As he sat back on the sofa, he felt the red head shift and snuggle closer to him, laying her head in his lap. He gently stroked some hair out of her face, looking down at her tenderly. It meant so much to him that she had been here while they watched these videos, the comforting things she had said. She was the only person who had ever seen so much of him.

"Hello, Jace!" someone cooed from the video, stealing Jace's attention back. His own golden eyes were looking back at him, filled with joy and laughter as his infant self giggled at the person behind the counter. The voice was female, "Hello my beautiful boy. Did you have a nice birthday?"

It was his mother. Jace held his breath. He hadn't heard his mother's voice before, not since he was old enough to remember it.

"Johnathon, come hold the camera," she said, and suddenly she appeared in front of the camera.

Long blonde hair, much the color of his own, tumbled around her shoulders. She smiled at baby Jace, cooing at him, and lifted him out of his chair and into her arms. She had bright green eyes, bright and happy. Jace felt a pang in his chest, a longing for something distant and unattainable. Maybe in another life, they could have been a happy, normal family.

"Jace?" Clary mumbled, half asleep. Jace glanced down as Clary blinked herself awake and sat up, half yawning, "What time is it?"

"It's probably time to go to bed," he answered, reaching for the empty take away boxes to start putting them away.

"Is that your mom?" Clary asked, noticing the women on screen. She smiled, "She's beautiful, Jace."

Jace followed Clary's gaze, to the familiar women that he'd never really known, "I guess I had to get it from somewhere," he teased, unsure what else to say. All he knew about this woman was that she had an affair, betraying his father, who he loved, and putting him in a position where he didn't quite belong to anyone's family. He didn't know what to feel about her. In the video, she was peppering his face with kisses, cooing how much she loved him. He wondered what a mother's tender touch would have felt like growing up. Imogen had never been particularly affectionate with him, but she did love him in her own way.

"Is… is that the ring you gave me?" Clary pointed and Jace noticed, for the first time, that his mother was indeed wearing her ring. The very ring that was in his pocket right now. He couldn't help but cringe. Clary seemed to have mistaken his discomfort for sorrow, because she pulled him into a hug, "Oh, Jace. I'm so sorry. I promise we'll find it."

Jace buried his face in her hair, letting the smell of strawberries and sage comfort him. He wouldn't have been here, now, if it weren't for his tumultuous childhood. He wouldn't have met Clary. To be the object of her affections, he would have given anything up. To revel in this touch for the rest of his life.

"Thanks Fray," he whispered, and his voice felt hollow even to him. The ring might as well have been searing his skin where it touched him, "Why don't we go to bed. I'll sleep out here tonight."

Clary bit her lip and Jace silently cursed the damn habit. "You opened up to me a lot today," she said, reaching for his hand, "And I never finished my part of the deal. I want you to see the rest of my sketchbook."

Curious, Jace followed Clary into his bedroom. He turned away politely as she changed into her pjs, and watched her with intrigue as she grabbed her sketchbook and crawled into bed, shifting over to leave room for him. Their gazes met and she gestured at him invitingly. He tentatively slid into the bed beside her, watching her adoringly as she brushed through the pages, briefly showing him ones that he hadn't seen yet, mostly sketches of loved ones, still art, and the occasional cartoon.

"I drew some characters for Simon's manga," Clary explained with a blush, Jace's curiosity piqued by the dramatic change in style, "It was called Sexy Vampire Mojo."

"Curious name," he mused, thinking that explained the vampire caricature he had once seen Clary draw of him. But Clary didn't look amused as he drew his eyes to her. She looked… anxious. She drew a really deep breath and turned the page, Jace's eyes followed the movement curiously, wondering what she was so worried about showing him.

It was a young man, blonde haired and blue eyed. Fairly plain looking, but his face was all sharp angles and his eyes were cunning.

Jace frowned, "Who's this?"

Clary seemed to have trouble speaking, her eyes glazed and distant. She looked as if her thoughts were in a place far away from here, somewhere unpleasant. Jace reached for her, comfortingly, but she flinched away. He immediately pulled his hands back, his heart dropping in his chest.

"Clary? Are you okay?" he pulled her concentration back and he noticed tears well in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," her voice shook, much like it had the other day. "This is Nathaniel. My...ex boyfriend."

Jace shifted uncomfortably, feeling his rage bubble but knowing that's not what Clary needed right now. "Clary, it's okay. You don't need to show me any of this, especially if it's hard for you."

Her big green eyes bore into his, nervous and scared, and he felt so helpless. He couldn't even reach out and comfort her. "I… I want to show you," she said, though tearful, glinted with an edge of determination. That edge stilled the ache in his heart. She was already so strong, he thought in admiration. He usually shut down when things became overwhelming, but Clary drove forward, with unrivaled tenacity.

"Nathan was my boyfriend when I was in college. He was studying business, but he minored in art so we shared a few classes. At first I thought he was sweet and ambitious, maybe a little naive. But… he was actually just very manipulative. He was controlling and power hungry and he got me into this situation where I just felt… trapped," she sniffed, tears flowing readily. Jace could see from the distant glaze her in eyes that she was reliving these memories as she recalled him. "We moved in with each other for my third year of college. His parents owned the apartment, so he let me stay rent free. He said he wanted me to focus on my studies and my art and I thought he was being sweet, but he was actually just putting me in his debt. He used it over me… every chance he got. And he slowly got me to cut off my friends… he hated Simon, was always crazy jealous of him. He constantly told me that I needed to focus on improving my art. He apparently had some business connection that would get me some kind of illustration deal with a publishing company when we graduated. But he said that my art needed to get better before they would make a deal with me and I believed him. He hated when I would leave the house without him. He thought I was wasting time I could be spending improving my art. It kept getting worse and more severe… and I could tell it wasn't right, but I couldn't tell if I was being dramatic or not. He did so many sweet things for me that always made me feel silly for second guessing him, and he had me convinced that he was going to help me get this amazing job when we graduated," she looked up at Jace and his heart crumbled. He couldn't understand how anyone would ever look at this girl and want to do anything other than love her, "All the warning signs were there, Jace. And people tried to tell me, but he was just so good at explaining everything away," she laughed bitterly, "he was a business major, after all."

Jace wanted to reach for her, to comfort her, but restrained himself as he recalled her earlier reaction. Clary, tears still freely streaming, turned the page in her sketchbook. This drawing was much darker than the others in the book. It wasn't drawn with love and admiration, like the sketches of Jocelyn and Luke. Nathaniel stood at the lower center of the page, a malicious smirk on his face. His face was downcast and darkened in shadow. Behind him rose a dark, mysterious figure, illuminated in dark red. It was demonic looking in nature, its dark red eyes slanted in anger. Its wrath seemed focused on Nathaniel. Clary's fury practically lept of the pages.

"Eventually, he started getting… aggressive. And I knew I needed to leave, but I just felt so trapped. I felt like… like if I left, I was giving up on everything I'd worked towards, you know? Like I had gotten so far, was I just being sensitive? And then he started being rough with me in… other ways," Clary took a ragged breath and blinked back tears. Jace held his breath, fear gripping at his chest as he tried to prepare himself for what Clary might have endured, "And I didn't like it anymore. I felt… violated. I wanted to leave, I wanted to do it quietly, but he monitored everything. One night he saw my texts to Simon and he…" Clary took a ragged breath, "He got so angry and he hit me. I was so scared about what he was going to do, but Simon showed up with the police and got me out of there. He got my stuff out, he helped me file a restraining order, and he let me stay at his place for a little while."

Jace never thought he'd do it, but he silently thanked the Angel for weasel-face.

Clary offered Jace a weak smile. "And that's my tragic backstory," she said, with a forced laugh. "It's why I wanted to get out of Florida so badly. I wanted a fresh start, somewhere big and different and away from everything my life used to be. And now I'm here."

Jace had never felt so uncertain. Clary was still crying, her posture still tense and withdrawn. "Thank you for sharing all of that with me," he offered her a smile, and for the first time he realized that he had been crying too. "W-what do you need right now? I can make you some tea, I can give you alone time-"

"Don't," Clary interrupted, her emerald eyes big and wide, pleading, "Don't leave me alone."

"Never," he answered intently, wishing so desperately there was more he could do to bring her comfort. "It's late, do you want to go to bed?"

Clary nodded, "Will you stay the night?"

"Of course," he assured, gently taking the sketchbook from her hands to put it away. "I'll be right here the whole night. I'll keep you safe," he promised, "Please just let me know if you need anything."

Clary nodded and turned over in bed, her back facing him. Jace turned out the lights, then slid into bed beside her, keeping plenty of space between. If she wanted anything more, he would let her come to him.

"Clary?" he whispered, before sleep had a chance to take either of them. He received a muffled grunt from the red head. "I think you're the bravest person I've ever met."

Thanks for reading you guys. I hope I dealt with this subject tactfully. I would greatly appreciate your feedback! Thanks for reading and stay tuned for the next chapter! :)