Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.

I'm sorry for not updating as much lately, but I'm going to school, which I think you all can understand I have to put before writing. I will try to give you the next chapter within a few days. But I cannot promise anything.

Again, thank you all for amazing reviews.

Don't hate me too much for what you are about to read.

"I know it's not your fault, I'm not stupid." Jace explained quietly, his feet stretched out.

"Okay, sorry." Alec sighed.

"Can you two stop, it's nobody's fault. We did everything we could; we couldn't have predicted that the Clave knew how to find Clary." Isabelle mumbled as she let her dark eyes glide around the room. All four Shadowhunter, along with Simon sat at a table in the old café in Manhattan, Taki's Diner.

"Do any of you know what they're going to do with her?" Simon asked curiously.

"No." Alec muttered.

"Well, yeah." Isabelle answered at the same time.

"Probably strip her of her marks or kill her." Jace finished.

"Wow, got to say, you're a race of loving and caring creatures." Simon mumbled hesitantly as he sipped his drink; a glass of animal blood.

"Simon." Isabelle's voice showed concern and a little bit of irritation.

"Sorry." The vampire boy whispered back.

A bell rang as a tall man stepped inside the diner, his black hair untidy and his usual colourful clothes was switched with a pair of dark blue jeans and a maroon sweater. The only trademark one could use to identify Magnus Bane was the double layer of scarfs whirled around his neck.

"Don't you look horrible?" Jace tried to make a joke, but no on laughed.

"And you're the one speaking Shadowhunter." Magnus replied dryly, sitting down next to Alec, his arm carelessly falling over the blue-eyed boy's shoulders.

Before Jace could retort, Jonathan asked, "So, did they say anything?"

"That depends on whether you mean the Clave or the New York Conclave." Magnus answered, "The Clave won't say shit, and they're keeping your sister in a secret location, which I would guess means she's somewhere in Idris. Conclave they, well they don't know shit." Magnus sighed.

"Great. Just great." Jace slammed his drink down on the diner's table.

"Ahh, don't let yourself defeat in advance." Magnus smirked.

"What do you mean?" Jon leaned forwards eagerly.

"I might have a plan."

"Seriously? What?" Alec asked shocked.

"You can thank me later." Alec muttered, looking around the table, "Especially you." Magnus smirked, sending Alec a small wink.

xxxx

Clary had had enough of waking up in cold cells. Enough of the pain that followed her every move.

"Get back!" the Shadowhunter's words pushed her against the cell bars.

He opened the door. His eyes fell on her bloodied torso. With a look of hate, she recoiled and scooted away.

Clary looked up at the two Shadowhunters that walked inside. She stared at them, mouth agape from trying to take in as much fresh air as possible. She tried to find out what to ask the two of them first. What were they going to do with her? Where had they taken her? Why had they not done anything yet? What happened to Maggie? Were they going to kill her?

None of those bold questions escaped her lips.

Instead she watched as they searched her for any sort of weapon. They took her stele and her knife. That was all she'd managed to scrape together before leaving the manor.

Clary avoided speaking with them. She didn't want any type of argument to unfold.

"Do you have anything else you might want us to know about?" one of them asked.

Clary shook her head.

"Sure about that Morgenstern?" the Shadowhunter asked coldly. He grabbed Clary's leg, pulling her down. "Because I'm not letting you fool anyone, not again."

Clary stayed quiet, pulling herself together to keep from crying out in pain. They hadn't allowed anyone near her, which meant she would be without access to a Stele and had to heal the mundane way.

"I think she's clean Curt." The more laid back Shadowhunter with a heavy Scottish accent said.

"Yeah, and if she's not?" Curt replied angry.

"Just tell me when yer done." The Scot answered, waving his hand showing clear annoyance.

Clary noticed the blood on Curt's hands. It was probably hers. She felt dizzy and drained of all her powers.

The two men started talking quietly, arguing visibly. After a minute or so, the Scot sighed and sent the other man a rather unfriendly hand gesture before walking over to the closed cell door.

Curt left shortly after that, leaving the Scottish Shadowhunter alone with Clary.

"Where am I?" Clary asked after the rougher Shadowhunter had left.

"I cannot tell ye that." He explained, avoiding eye contact with the redheaded criminal.

xxxx

"Attention." Imogen raised her voice. She'd noticed both her grandsons had walked in along with Stephen and Celine. They sat down next to the Lightwoods, all wearing black clothes, like they were ready for a fight. Imogen sighed annoyed, her face twitching slightly.

They had called in for another meeting; now that they'd caught the Morgenstern girl they could easily get to Valentine and put an end to all the fighting. The only thing left to discuss was how they would trade her back to the Circle and still manage to kill the leader.

"I'm glad to see so many of us were able to come on such short notice." Imogen smiled, her voice ringing through the Gard's chamber.

"As I am sure you are all familiar with already, we've captured one of the Circle's greatest treasures. She's being held in an undisclosed location at the moment, until we can figure out how to get back the Mortal Sword and have an end to all this witless fighting." Imogen walked down the few steps until she stood in the middle of the chamber.

She noticed her oldest grandson get up from his seat along with his parabatai and the Isabelle Lightwood.

In the same second they left Lucian Graymark and Jocelyn Fairchild stepped quietly inside taking the three teenagers seats.

Imogen cleared her throat before continuing her speech, "As I said, we don't know how we will do this yet, that is why we've asked you all here today. To hear your opinions and include you all in the decisions regarding all Nephilim."

"What good will it do if we trade the girl for the Sword if we're releasing a demon back into the enemies possession?" a woman asked, her tone cold.

"We can't just send the girl back, we would have to fight. We can't give up on something like this; we could use her against her own. Train her." A man shouted over the small whispers echoing in the champers.

"And how would you do that? You can't train people into obeying your orders." A Starkweather woman answered.

"Of course you could, you could-" the man's sentence was cut short when Luke stood up from his seat, anger filling his blue eyes. He wasn't wearing his glasses, which made the blue in his normally light eyes darken a few shades.

"You are not the ones to decide Clarissa's destiny." He explained, despite his heated looks, he remained calm.

"Excuse me, Mr. Graymark." Imogen asked, trying her best to hide the irritation in her voice.

"I said-""No I heard you just fine, what I find interesting is that you think you have any right to decide what we are going to do with our prisoner." She snapped at the werewolf.

"What are you trying to say?" Robert Lightwood stood up in defence of his friend.

"Well, Lucian is really not a part of the Clave any longer, we might allow him inside the Glass City, but that does not mean he is fit to make our decisions for us." Imogen snapped at the Lightwood.

"I do not think this is a time to pick fights with both Downworlders and the Circle mother. You might find yourself in an unpleasant position in the end." Stephen said after a moment of silence.

xxxx

"Sorry kids, you can't come in here." The guard explained, stepping in front of the closed door.

"We're just here to tell the prisoner what they are discussing." Alec explained.

"I haven't heard anything about that." The man answered in a heavy Scottish accent.

"They just told us to do so." Isabelle smiled charmingly, her dark eyes meeting the man's light green eyes.

"Well, I don't think I can let you through without any further information."

"We're heading back to the meeting chamber right after we tell her, we can give you a formal permission when we come back later." Jace told the man with a convincing tone in his voice.

"I don't know.." he answered carefully, "I'm not supposed to let anyone in."

"What if we give you our steles?" Jace asked, holding out his long silver and brown twig.

The man's eyes formed into thin lines; "Hmm..." he bit his lip pondering.

"Fine, but you only get five minutes." The Scot answered before he held out a large golden key, unlocking a door. "She's in the first cell, you don't get to go inside, and remember, only five minutes."

The four teens hurried inside the room. What met their eyes was a way too familiar picture. Clary sat with her hands tied tightly up against the wall. Small stains of blood had coloured the floor crimson and she looked paler than usual.

"Clary." Jonathan whispered, afraid of how she would react.

When she heard Jon's voice Clary's eyes shot up, her eyes showing sheer terror.

She began to struggle against the metal keeping her hands together.

"Hey, it's okay. We're going to sort this out, are you hurt?" Jon asked, his sister's fear infecting him.

Clary looked around, at first she'd thought she had been transported inside another memory, her fatigue confusing her thoughts.

When she realised she was really seeing the four teenagers standing in front of her, she stopped struggling.

"What are you doing here?" Clary whispered.

"We're just making sure you're okay." Jonathan smiled; glad she was speaking civilly with them.

"Are they going to kill me?" Clary asked, skipping the cosy small talk.

Nobody answered her for a very long time, not until the blond boy in the back stepped forward with a lopsided smile on his lips, "Yeah, probably."

Clary looked closer at him; the loose waves of his mane were looking like he'd not slept in the last few days. She didn't know if it was because she couldn't see him properly or if it was because he looked so tired, but it took Clary a long time to recognise Jace Herondale.

The sarcastic, unfriendly idiot she had gotten to know back at the Institute. Clary met his eyes, gold against emerald. They stood in complete silence, eyes locked with each other until Clary chuckled dryly, "Glad at least someone here is ready to tell the truth." Clary replied, sitting up straighter to keep the metal from cutting into her sore wrists.

"Alec, give me the stele." Isabelle muttered under her breath.

"You have another stele?" Jon asked confused.

"Yeah, did you think we were just going to give up our steles if we didn't have an extra?" Jace asked, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Well, yes."

Isabelle chuckled nervously, taking the silver stele from her brother. She drew a small opening rune on the metal, forcing the cell door to open.

"Sometimes I wonder if they regret teaching us these kinds of things." Jace whispered quietly as he pulled the door wide open.

"Stop!" Clary said as loud as she could manage without causing the guard to hear them.

"What?" Isabelle asked confused.

"You shouldn't, you're risking your lives. If you are caught helping me, you're probably going to face some sort of punishment." Clary said, thinking of the way she'd acted towards all four of them, she had no idea why the hell they were even there in the first place.

"Yeah, okay darling, that's a very noble thing to say, but I don't think any of us really care." Jace replied as he sat down next to her.

"Jace." Clary whispered. "I mean it; you're not risking your life for me."

"What happened to the Clary who would've killed to get out of any sort of mess?" Isabelle laughed.

Clary could swear she felt her scar burn; she looked away, focusing on her bloody torso. Trying to see how much blood she'd lost.

"She learned."

Nobody said anything after that; Isabelle burned an iratze into Clary's skin in hope that it would heal her wounds. The five minutes ran out before they could ask Clary what she'd meant.

xxxx

They watched as the three other Shadowhunters left the cell room. The five minutes were up.

"Clary, I promise we're going to fix this. I don't care how seriously screwed up we're going to be afterwards, but I promise." Jace whispered.

"Don't make promises you can't keep Jace." Clary replied.

"I'm not."

"Yes you are, because I don't want you to fix my problems. I made this mess, and I'm getting out of it alone, not dragging you guys with me down." Clary leaned her head against the cold stone wall.

She heard Jace sigh loudly, his eyes scanning her from top to toe. "Sorry, I don't know what's gotten into you Ariel, but that's not going to happen. If you think ever for one second that Jon will leave you in the Clave's hands without doing everything he can to protect you, if you think I will-" "Don't say that, I'm not worth it." Clary stopped his sentence.

"That's where you're wrong, because you are.. You're worth it. You are worth everything."

Clary smiled despite the pain in her upper body, she didn't understand how he could feel anything but abhor towards her when she'd done nothing but awful things to him in the months she'd known him.

Jace bit his lower lip; he knew the guard would notice he'd not left with the others soon. He met Clary's clear, green eyes again; she seemed so fragile, while at the same time she looked like she could kill with both her hands cuffed against the wall.

He leaned closer, "Well, maybe not everything." Jace joked, watching Clary crack a small smile.

"No?" Clary asked.

"Nah." Jace answered, as he leaned even closer to say the next sentence "I mean, I've got a few pretty cool weapons that might be worth a bit more."

"Shut up." Clary laughed as she watched his lips begin to close the space between them.

She closed her eyes, feeling the tired burn behind her eyelids. She could feel his sweet breath in her face, hot and calming. She didn't know why she didn't back away, everything in Clary's nature told her to back away, get away before it was too late. But she stayed. And if his lips had touched hers in that moment, she didn't know if she could've stopped herself, but he hesitated too long.

Just as she felt his soft lips brush over her dry lips, she leaned her head back, "Don't do that." Clary said.

"Do what?" Jace asked, clear disappointment ringing in his voice.

"Kiss me. I won't stop you if you do, but please don't kiss me." Clary whispered, her voice shaking.

"Okay, I won't." Jace shook his head, "but why?"

"Because if you do, you're not just kissing me, you're saying goodbye." Clary murmured.

"No I'm not, Clary.." He stopped speaking when he noticed the smirk on Clary's lips.

xxxx

The meeting lasted way longer than any of them had thought. Of course there would be a few disagreements about what to do with Clary, Stephen knew that. But he'd truly believed his mother would be more understanding. It was no longer a discussion about what to do with Valentine's daughter; this was Jocelyn's child as well.

This was the child they'd all mourned, even Imogen. And to ignore that, pretending the only bad person in the Gard was Clary, it was absolutely stupid.

It was easy to forget the past when it no longer affected them; they'd all been young and easily manipulated by Valentine's wonderful plan of making Nephilim stronger. They had all been a part of the Uprising. Why did they pretend like they hadn't?

Stephen watched as his mother continued the meeting. Listening to the many arguing Shadowhunters seated around her.

He noticed the four young Shadowhunters walk silently back through the door, finding their seats without causing too much trouble. A few elderly people eyed them irritated, but no one cared to ask where they had all went.

The meeting lasted another twenty minutes without much change. Most Nephilim wanted Clary out of the Shadow world, stripped of her marks and left for dead. It was the best way to provoke the Circle, show them that they too meant serious business. Stephen found the whole suggestion ridiculous; Clary was barely sixteen years old.

The same age as Isabelle. How could they even suggest the things they said while many of them were parents to kids the same age as their villain?

Stephen's eyes wandered down to where his son and friends were sitting, only to notice Jace was not there. Both Isabelle and Alec were there, as well as Jonathan, who looked like he was ready to burst from frustration and anger at any minute.

Stephen nudged Celine carefully in the side, getting her attention.

"Did you see when Jace left the chamber?" he whispered.

Celine looked over at the teenagers, shaking her head, "No, he's probably just taking a walk. They are all a bit disheartened by the whole meeting, and not achieving what they were working so hard on."

Stephen nodded, directing his focus back on the arguing Shadowhunters.

It didn't take long before he saw Robert watching his son worryingly. Not taking his eyes off him.

Everything happened within seconds. Alec clutched his shoulder with a loud, pained gasp. He fell off the chair, hitting the floor hard. Isabelle screamed in shock before she knelt down by his side. Robert, Stephen and Luke all bolted up from their chairs.

They were all beside him as he clutched his chest, gasping for air. Robert tried to calm him down, but the invisible pain kept his son from breathing properly.

"Alec? Alec!" Isabelle whispered; her voice rose louder with every breath she took.

"What's happening?" Someone asked; they had obviously attracted the other Shadowhunters attention.

Alec's face had gone very still. He blinked away the small tears that had started forming in the corners of his eyes. Slowly he pulled off his black gear jacket, pushing aside his shirt. Stephen saw the outline of his parabatai rune. Taking a deep breath, Alec dragged his thumb over the rune; black ash-like powder came off.

"No." Stephen whispered panicked. He pushed past the people gathering around them, through the door, running as fast as he could out of the chamber.

Luke and Celine followed right behind him. For some reason he knew exactly where he was supposed to run. The guard lay on the floor, chest rising and falling in even breaths. Clearly unconscious.

The doors to the Gard's cells were open wide. He walked inside, followed by Luke. Stephen pulled out his witchlight stone to gather more light inside the dark corridor.

The room was in complete silence, except the dribble of water falling from a window in one of the nearest cells.

"Jace?" Stephen said.

Nobody replied.

"Clary?" Luke asked.

Again; no reply.

Luke stopped, causing Stephen to follow his act.

There were a faint light coming from the walls in one of the darker cells.

If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise Hell.

Written in the heavenly fire from a Nephilim stele. The words sent chills down Stephen's arms, but it was not until he saw the lifeless body lying on the floor. His golden locks covered in dirt and his face pressed uncomfortably against the cold stone floor. Stephen kneeled down next to his son.

"Jace? Jace are you okay?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"Jace?"

It was not until he saw the lifeless body of his own son on the floor, he realised what had happened.

No matter how many times he checked for a pulse. No matter how many times he screamed his name. No matter how much he begged for it not to be true.

The lifeless body of his son lay in his arms as more and more Shadowhunters entered the cells. All reading the haunting words on the wall, which was growing fainter and fainter. They all saw the dead body of a sixteen year old boy.

I feel like I shouldn't write anything at the end of this chapter. I will update as soon as possible, because this is a very shitty way to end a chapter and I know that. But I've been working everything up to this moment and couldn't fit everything into one chapter. SORRY !

Leave a review telling me how much you hate me. Because I would love to hear from you.