Chapter 31

Jocelyn couldn't go back inside.

This wasn't right. Maryse had had no right to anything she had said. None of this was fair, none of this was supposed to happen. Why can't anything in my life happen as it should? Clary- her perfect, perfect, daughter- she now had to endure this, too? On top of everything that had happened last year, this she had to deal with too? When would they get a fucking break?

What if this is apart of his plan? He gets to Idris, pretending to cooperate, and then lashes out? Kills everyone? Kills Clary?

Jocelyn had little to no faith in the Clave. The way they were handling this whole situation was bullshit. She could understand the logic, and yet the fact of the matter was Jonathan Morgenstern was dangerous. They were taking a huge risk with every passing hour he was in the world free. Something had to be done. Something more than waiting for the Trial in two days.

She wasn't sure when she had decided to start walking, but she had and she was. Walking. Walking down the street. Walking past Taki's. Walking past the Institute. Walking to the lot Maryse had described in her conversation about the situation.

For a moment, Jocelyn just stared at the empty place around her. Then she began reaching forward, feeling around for the door. She found it and grasped the handle tight. She could hear the lock click open. She entered.

Something inside of her was screaming at her to stop. What will Clary think? A little voice warned her. But Jocelyn was beyond listening. All her emotions and thoughts she pushed down, floating above them almost as if she were watching from the outside. He will not hurt Clary. I will not let him.

She was in a living room, and straight ahead she could see the kitchen. Empty, no one inside. To her right was the stairs. She walked up them.

Hallway. An open bedroom door. She entered.

And there he was.

Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern was standing in the room, looking practically unchanged from the last time Jocelyn saw him. Everything from his pale face and green eyes- he looked dead. He was the ghost of the boy she had held in the Demon Realms, and now he was back, haunting her and her family.

There was no emotion on his face, not a single indication that he felt anything at the sight of her. Just because he didn't have demon blood anymore didn't mean he was capable of feeling. He had no idea what emotions even were.

They stared at each other, the moments stretching out before Jocelyn for what felt like hours. I could kill him here. I could end this now.

More moments passed before Jocelyn suddenly realized something. This moment- she had lived it out before. When Jonathan was a baby, had she not stared at him exactly like this? Had she not asked herself the same questions she was asking now? Can I kill him? She already knew the answer.

No.

She couldn't. She couldn't then and she couldn't now. And just like then, she would have to live with the consequences. The consequences to her, and the consequences to Clary.

But Clary didn't even want him dead. Why? Because of those stupid memories. Are they real?

''Clary thinks you've changed,'' Jocelyn said bluntly. Her voice was too loud in the room. Even Jonathan, with his blank stare, flinched. ''She thinks you're…different. And those memories…This Trial- why are you going along with it?''

He stared at her, unmoving, unspeaking. ''Is it some sort of plan?'' Jocelyn demanded. ''Some sort of 'stage 1' for you to take revenge or what not? And this time to have Clary on your side, now that she's remembered such fond times between you both? Is that the grand idea here?'' Still, he continued to stare. ''Well? Answer me!''

Jonathan stared at her. Minutes went by. Still, he stared and stared. And then, he spoke. ''I have no plan.''

His voice was quiet, scratchy and croaky, as if he hadn't used in a long time. ''Really? Then why are you going along with this Trial?''

She watched his chest rise and fall, like he was catching his breath. ''I want redemption.''

Jocelyn laughed bitterly. ''Really? What- it takes death for you to be sorry?''

His breathing became rapid. Anger. He was angry now. ''I did horrible things,'' he admitted. ''Some you know about, some you don't. I hurt many, many people- Max and Clary only a few. I deserve to suffer for those crimes. I have paid, and I will continued to pay for every single sin I committed. I know that. I accept that. But you know what? The only person I never hurt was you.''

''You never hurt me?'' Jocelyn repeated incredulously.

''What is the worst thing I did to you? Cut your hair in the Demon Realms?''

''You hurt-''

''I hurt Luke, I hurt Clary- but I never hurt you.''

''You hurt me everyday! You worked with Valentine! Everything he did you did too!''

''YOU LEFT ME WITH HIM!'' Jonathan screamed, so suddenly and with such venom Jocelyn stepped back in fear. ''You want to hate me for the things I did after the Mortal War- hell, the things I did during the Mortal War- go ahead, hate me. I could've made different choices, I couldn't switched sides. But before that? Growing up? Don't you dare blame me.''

''I-''

''You weren't there! Growing up with him! It was do or die with Valentine and I chose do! I had to! You weren't there. Getting through the day with him- he was all I had. You of all people should know what living with him was like. Did you think he'd get better when you were gone? You left me with him. You left.''

''I thought you were dead!''

''You knew he wasn't! You could've gone on the off chance that maybe I was alive too. You should've looked! You should've-'' he scoffed, shaking his head. ''Don't- don't you dare blame me. Don't you pin those things on me.''

Jocelyn glared at him. ''I'm supposed to believe that you want redemption?''

''I don't give a crap what you believe.'' He was shaking, and through the tears in her own eyes, Jocelyn couldn't tell if he was crying too. ''But you- you do not get to be my judge.''

Silence stretched out over them. The anger and fear and hurt of all their shared years seemed to hang in the air. Jocelyn wanted to scream. She wanted to scream and cry and hit the world and him and Valentine until she got some sort of compensation. This was not how my life was supposed to go. This was not how Clary's life was supposed to go.

Jonathan took a shuddering breath. He made to lean on the bed, but couldn't quite catch himself. He fell to his knees on the floor, and Jocelyn watched as he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

It wasn't how your life was supposed to go.

She watched him cry, unable to hear from the ringing of anger in her ears. There was some part inside of her, some small, dusty corner of her heart that was aching looking at him, looking at her injured son, crying. The feeling lasted only a moment before Jocelyn forced it down. She didn't love him. She hated him. She hated him for the things he did- by himself and with Valentine. She hated him and Valentine.

Jocelyn walked out. Back down the stairs. Back through the living room. Back out into the empty lot that mimicked how her heart felt; empty, all save for hatred. Hatred for Jonathan, hatred for Valentine, and hatred for herself. Because she knew Jonathan was right. There was enough blame to go around.

….

Jonathan couldn't breathe. He sat on the floor, his back against the bed and his knees to his chest trying to catch his breath. His heart was pounding. His throat ached as though there were some huge rock in it. He couldn't stop shaking.

Who was he to ask for redemption?

Going to this Trial- it would not redeem him. Being sentenced to death would not redeem him. Spending eternity in Hell would not redeem him. He had chosen his path long ago, with every order he obeyed from Valentine and the actions he took after his death. His cave in Hell he had furnished with his sins, and it was all ready to be inhabited again with his soul upon the Clave's sentencing.

He couldn't be saved. Not because he was incapable of it, but because that ship had sailed long ago. It was too late for him. He was undeserving.

I'm sorry. He curled up on himself tighter. He wasn't sure who he was apologizing to. Why did he want redemption anyway? Because he was afraid of Hell? Or because he was actually, genuinely sorry?

How would I know? What's the difference between an apology and an excuse? Between being sorry for hurting someone and asking for forgiveness because you don't want to feel guilty? Is that why I am doing this? Because I don't want to be guilty? Because I don't want to go back to Hell?

Then I don't deserve redemption. I never will.

Jonathan choked for breath. He could hear the Queen's icy laughter as if she were standing in front of him, right now. Enjoying striving, my love?

Jonathan closed his eyes, rocking himself back and forth. He was alone. Forever alone. Alone in his room as he would be alone in Hell. He wasn't worthy of anything else.

…

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