A/N: Quarantine is absolutely horrifying so I hope that any and everyone reading this is staying safe. Silver lining is the spare time I now have: it's very rough, but please enjoy.
Clary felt like a stone was sitting directly in the pit of her stomach. As though someone had tied her intestines together and was twisting hard. As though she had her finger on the pin of a hand grenade, and her muscles were about to give out.
That was the effect that the Fray family dinner was having on her. Well, the Morgenstern family dinner.
Until she was fifteen years old, Clary hadn't known why her father had taken her mother's name after their marriage, why he made the decision to give up the part of himself that linked him to one of the wealthiest families in the state. But one day, bumping into a blonde that looked startling like her own father on the south side of town whilst trying to track down Isabelle at some senior's party, she had met her brother. And it all finally made sense.
Skip forward three years, and Clary was now stuck between her mother and father, hiding the fact that she knew about her brother from one, and that she knew what her mother got up to when her father wasn't home from the other. She tried not to gulp too loudly.
"Clarissa."
She sat up straight, shocked by the sound, and looked her grandmother Seraphina in the eye. She tried to smile, and knew that she failed.
"What's wrong, darling? Don't you like the veal?"
Clary pretended in that moment that the thought of chewing on a baby cow didn't turn her stomach and took a bite.
"No, grandma, it's great—" She tried not to hiss as her father gripped her knee under the table, sinking nails into her bare flesh. "I'm just tired today- I had practice until six."
Her grandmother smiled a soft smile; the kind that only a grandmother could, and Clary couldn't help but feel warm.
"Of course- I forgot! How is practice going, and Isabelle, I must remember to send her mother flowers for the card she sent for Oscar's funeral…" Her grandmother continued to talk, the lone figure against the jury that were Clary's parents. They were so rarely all together like this, she couldn't help but worry that at any point something might implode. She felt another sharp dig from her father and tuned back in.
"Yes." She said, putting down her fork and crossing her legs pointedly, pulling her father's nails from her skin. "Practice is going great; we have the regional heats this weekend and we've been going like crazy."
Her grandmother nodded, smiling.
"Such a shame neither of you will be there to see that." Her grandmother said pointedly to her parents, and Clary tensed. Valentine was the first to speak.
"As are we, mother. But business is business…"
"And I simply can't get out of this gala; as a member on the Board I'm expected there." Her mother replied, and Clary held back a laugh.
She had no idea what charity her mother was supporting, but it certainly wasn't anything real. Just an excuse to get champagne drunk with people she knew when she was younger and dumber and more carefree. This was the last obligatory family dinner before Valentine left, not planning to return until after Christmas. And Clary had more than a slight suspicion that her mother's 'gala' was code for 'Garroway'.
Her grandmother seemed to sense something was off, as before she knew it Clary and her family had been dismissed from the dinner, her grandmother retiring early, and they were sat in her father's car as he drove them home.
"Couldn't you, for once, not act like a wet flannel in front of your grandmother?" Her father shouted, clenching the steering wheel, and Clary's mother in the passenger seat stared out of the window, bored.
"Sorry." She mumbled, and her father scoffed.
"Sorry… you're always sorry these days, Clarissa. Why are you like this? Why can't you be normal?"
She sat back in her seat. Maybe her mother would defend her.
"Why don't you fucking talk. I mean, Jesus, she's going to think you're remedial. Fucking idiot."
Or maybe not.
…
"Knock, knock…" Clary whispered, climbing through Isabelle's window. Isabelle was sat in bed, face mask on, Netflix already playing. She barely glanced up as Clary rolled onto the floor- they had been pulling the same stunts since they were kids.
"Alec's here." Isabelle said, nodding to the door, and Clary smiled as she stared at the ceiling from her place from the floor. Isabelle leaned over the bed to look her friend in the eye. "Are you on something?" She asked, tilting her head, and Clary laughed.
"Yeah… I think I am. "
She tossed a small bottle from her pocket to Isabelle who deftly caught it and read the label.
"Your mom's antidepressants… nice one, how many you take?" She asked, placing one on her tongue. Clary held up three fingers and laughed, and Isabelle laughed with an eyebrow raised.
"Go say hello to the boys, they're making dinner in the kitchen." Isabelle said, leaning back to paint her nails.
"Kay…" Clary whispered, standing up and throwing her bag down onto the bed; Isabelle reached out a hand and gripped her arm.
"Wait…" She muttered, pulling her dazed friend closer. "What the fuck, Clary- look at that thing!" She exclaimed as she took in Clary's eyes, the swollen lid and the dried blood. Clary didn't even wince. "What did that motherfucker do?"
Clary laughed, knowing it was the drugs that were making her quite so giddy.
"Not motherfucker… mother." She said sombrely. "It was my fault though, I pissed Valentine off tonight and he took it out on her. I probably would do the same."
She flashed back to an hour ago, her father already on a plane getting the hell out of dodge, and her drunk mother pushing her hard onto the stairs, flinching as her daughter's face connected with the railing. Isabelle hissed.
"She said sorry." Clary muttered.
"I don't give a fuck. You can't stay there anymore, Clary, not while your parents are there." She said with malice, and Clary shrugged.
"It's fine, Issa. They're both gone for the next god knows how long anyway, I just need to hide out here tonight."
Isabelle's expression darkened, but she simply pursed her lips. "You're staying here then. Until Christmas. Hell, stay for Christmas! We can have an orphan Annie day, I'm sure Alec will come."
Clary smiled lightly, patting Isabelle's arm and trying not to cry at the fact she didn't deserve a friend like Izzy. "That sounds perfect. Okay—" She stood up and made her way to the door. "I'll see you down there."
"Helloo?" Clary called out as she entered the kitchen, the smell of pasta sauce and garlic assaulting her.
"My darling!"
It wasn't until she was engulfed in a shimmering cloud of Magnus Bane that she realised quite how high she was, as she hadn't even seen him coming. But having his arms wrapped around her felt good, safe. She grinned.
"Hey, Mags." She murmured into his shoulder, letting him pull back and look at her. She could see his face darken at her eye but ignored it. "And Alexander!" She said, pulling away from the tall man to hug Isabelle's brother.
Isabelle and Alec were like two sides of the same coin- they shared the same sharp features, prominent jaw and dark hair. They had the same eyes- except where Isabelle's were warm brown, his were an icy blue. He was a few years older but was only in his first year of college as he's taken time out of school after his younger brother's death, living with his father in a different district while studying part time at some private college his father was paying for. And whenever Alec was home, you could guarantee that Magnus would try and show up.
He had loved him since they were kids. Alec had yet to realise.
"Clary Fray, what in the fuck happened to your face?" Alec asked quietly, keeping the small girl at arm's length as he took in her features. Clary stared hard back at him, forever startled by how similar he was to his sister.
"You should see the other guy." She said, laughing. "You know me, Al, I just need to stay out of Pandemonium."
Alec didn't look convinced, but dropped the subject.
"What are you doing up here?" She asked Alec, distracting him and dipping a spoon into the sauce on the stove and taking a bite. Magnus sat down at the breakfast bar and continued to make the salad, and Alec stirred a pot of simmering water.
"I came to watch your regionals." He said, watching her carefully. "Mom's gone, Dad won't visit… I thought it'd be nice."
Clary raised her eyebrows.
"No cheerleading where you're at?" She laughed, and he frowned in response.
"This is your last year, Clary. We're all rooting for you. We want you to do well."
Clary blinked.
"That's… that's so nice of you … thanks." She picked at her fingernail. "We really need it to go well."
"I know, Izzy said your chance of getting on the team at NYU will be so much better if you win Nationals." Alec said quietly, and Clary nodded.
"Yeah. Plus, it'll mean we haven't actually wasted our entire life on a useless sport." Magnus interjected, winking at his teammate, and Clary threw a tomato at him.
They were laughing as Isabelle finally padded her way into the kitchen; but she wasn't alone.
"Alec, Magnus, this is Simon- Si, this is my brother and Magnus, you've probably seen him around."
Simon grinned and nodded, his tall frame engulfed in a hug by Magnus, a slightly appraising look from Alec following him in.
Clary stood stock still as she took in the scene; Simon, in all his lanky glory, was staring directly at her, only looking away as Magnus and Alec approached him to shake his hand. Clary swallowed dryly, not taking her eyes off of him as Isabelle slid next to her at the stove.
"Don't be mad." Isabelle whispered, watching they boys interact.
"I'm not."
"You look mad."
"Isabelle, I'm not mad." She reached out a finger to Isabelle, joining their pinkies and squeezing, still not looking away. "I just don't want him going and blabbing everything about me to Jace."
"He won't. I made him promise… I just want him to meet Alec, and they're staying the whole week for the competition… I thought it would be a good time."
"It is." She finally looked away, catching Isabelle's eye. "It's a good idea. I'm just happy you're happy."
Isabelle laughed, tossing her perfect hair behind her ear.
"You're really high right now, huh?" She said, and Clary grinned.
"Just accept my acceptance. You only see this once in a blue moon."
"Ain't that the truth." Isabelle said, squeezing her friend before moving forward to set the table, smiling lightly at Simon as she passed.
…
Isabelle and Magnus were laughing hysterically at the sink, splashing more bubbles on each other than on the plates that they were trying to clean, and Clary excused herself from the table to smoke whilst Simon's attention was with Alec. She slipped out onto the porch, the fall air finally turning to chill, and sat on the steps. Dinner had been nice, really nice, but Clary couldn't help but feel tense whenever Simon caught her eye, or tried to ask her a question. She sighed into the night, sparking up a cigarette an trying to slow her heart's erratic beat. It seemed like the pills had finally worn off.
"Can I mooch one?"
Clary jumped at the sudden interruption to the silence and turned to see Simon leaning against the door. He slumped down on the step beside her and she silently handed him the packet and the lighter, waiting for him to light it before reaching for it again. She held her breath.
"What happened to your face?" He asked quietly, and Clary cringed, sucking back another puff. Simon nodded. "Right… none of my business. Look, I just wanted to tell you, the way I feel about Izzy… it's different. It's not part of my world. I'm not going to pretend that we can all just be happy families, that Jace didn't do to you what he did."
Her head snapped up at that.
"Don't talk to him about me, okay Lewis?" She said vehemently, and Simon nodded gravely. "As long as you keep my business to yourself…" She took a deep drag. "I don't care what you do. I love Izzy, you make her happy. As long as you don't hurt her, you're fine by my standards."
Simon grinned.
"High praise from Miss Clary Fray." Clary scowled at his response, and he rubbed at his hair. "I also… well, I also wanted to say that I'm sorry. I never checked in on you." He said quietly, looking out to the driveway. "I like you a lot, you were good for him. And I knew you would never cheat on him. I should have defended you more."
"That's not your job. He's not a baby, he can make his own choices. You know him better than I do—" She stopped herself. "Than I did. I don't need you to apologise for him." She made to stand up.
"Hey, I know you don't need me to… I want to. I want you to be okay." Clary blinked yet again; she couldn't help but look into his eyes, searching the brown depths for signs of sincerity.
"I'm just peachy, Simon. Thanks."
Finally standing up she made her way back into the house, murmuring a quiet goodnight to Alec and Magnus before heading to Isabelle's room, falling asleep to the sound of distant laughter and a forgotten friend.
That night she dreamt about Jonathon, and the next morning set off early to see her brother.
Jon seemed to be the only uncomplicated thing in her life- which was ironic, considering she wasn't even meant to know who he was. He was three years older than her, ran a tattoo parlour in the centre of town, and was the only person she really trusted. The day they met was one of the first times that Clary realised her father wasn't the man he said he was. Because Jonathon had been eighteen years old, and her parents had just celebrated their twentieth anniversary.
He had known who she was when they met: he said he recognised her straight away. It turns out that whilst Clary had been living it up in the big house in the nice neighbourhood, Valentine had offered Jonathon's mother, Lilith, half a million dollars when Jonathon turned three, telling her to never contact him again because Jocelyn was pregnant. She had told him where to stick his money and told him to stay away. And when Jonathon had found out, he had grown up believing that he was second best.
At first he had resented her, telling her to leave him and his mother alone. She hadn't listened.
It wasn't until one night after a particularly bad argument between Valentine and Clary that she showed up at his house with a bloody lip and nowhere else to go that he finally let her into his life. Of course, he resented her, she had understood that. But she needed him to understand that he wasn't the one stuck with the short straw. She was.
Clary had also met Jonathon's mother that night, and it made her heart ache. She was so similar to her own mother: a creative spirit, set in her ways. The only difference was that Lily was an independent force and hadn't put up with Valentine's crap. Jocelyn, on the other hand, was too lost in her world. She had thought that Lily would hate her, being the child that ended her relationship, but she turned out to be far better natured than her own parents. She understood what Valentine was like.
As Clary arrived at the small apartment complex, she felt a familiar wave of calm settle over her, and as her brother buzzed her in she finally felt sane for the first time in weeks.
"Clare!"
Clary hadn't even needed to knock on the door— Lily had already pulled it open, pulling her into a swift hug. Clary grinned, placing her bag on the ground and letting herself be wrapped in warmth. Looking over Lily's shoulder, Jonathon came into view- still living with his mother, as they co owned the tattoo shop. He smiled, but only lightly. Pulling back, Clary glanced between the two. When she had met Jonathon, she had only seen parts of Valentine- his height, the sharp jaw, the blonde hair, but meeting Lily made her realise that both she and Jonathon looked like their mothers. Lily was shorter, willowy, with the same bright blonde hair as her son, and bright green eyes that were startling against her flawless skin. She was still beautiful, and young, having had Jonathon when she was only seventeen. Clary smiled at her.
"Hi, Lil. Sorry to barge in."
"Nonsense, come and sit down. Jon, put the kettle on the stove- I want tea before I go to work." She commanded him as she pulled Clary inside. Jon rolled his eyes at his sister, leading them into a small, warm kitchen. "Shouldn't you be at school?" She asked as they sat down, and Clary rolled her eyes.
"I decided to take a personal day… I have cheer practice later anyway. I just can't be bothered right now."
"Yeah, high school is the fucking worst." Jonathon laughed, sitting opposite her and looking her in the eye. "Although, Alicante is rich as hell… I feel like you might want to give Xavier's a go, then tell me you hate it."
Clary's heart jumped. Xavier's was where Jace went, and Simon. She laughed too though, swatting at him.
"Yeah yeah, I get it, be grateful—" She smiled as Lily handed her a cup of steaming tea. "I just can't wait to be out of there." She said lightly. Jon leant back in his chair.
"You got your place at NYU confirmed yet?" He asked, and Clary grinned.
"Yup. And—" She stopped herself. She hadn't told anyone this yet. " They want to give me a partial scholarship for my art." She finished.
Lily cheered, patting her on the back, and Jonathon grinned.
"Really spreading your wings, huh?" He joked, and Clary hit him again.
"Hey… all I need now is to get on a cheer scholarship, the ones Iz and I are going for. Then I won't need a cent from my parents."
Both Jonathon and Lily went quiet; neither of them had mentioned it, but they both knew why Clary's coverup was so thick around her eye.
"Look, Clary, Mom and I have been talking, and if you would be up for it… well, if you wouldn't mind leaving the bookshop… you could come work in the shop some days? Just doing the reception, the register, a bit of admin… maybe some designing? We've got Bat too so you won't be alone… Low commitment, a bit of cash – oof!" he was cut off from his nervous offer by Clary leaping from her chair and wrapping throwing her arms around him, grinning.
"Yes! Oh my god, yes, please." She said hurriedly, not wanting him to take it back. "Please."
"Done and done, short stuff." Jonathon muttered, patting her back awkwardly as she pulled away- he wasn't an especially affectionate person, but was used to Clary's enthusiasms. She pulled away, still smiling, and she and Jon chatted as Lily got ready for work, shooting them a wave as she left. The second she was gone Jon was scraping his chair toward her, reaching out and taking her face in his hand. She hissed, and he ignored her as he inspected her eye.
"What the hell, Clare? Take that shit off…" He said aggressively, and Clary glared back at him, hitting away his hand.
"Don't do that." She spat, scooching away from him, only leading to him scooching his chair right back.
"Was that Valentine?" He asked, and Clary rolled her eyes.
"Obviously not, dick. I hit my face on the bannister yesterday." She said: knowing instantly that he didn't believe her. "It's nothing, okay? It'll be gone in a few days."
"I can't believe this… why do you defend him? We all know that he's a piece of shit, you need to tell someone, your mom…"
Clary couldn't help but feel hot tears well up in her eyes; knowing that although her father wasn't kind, her mother wasn't exactly either.
"You don't know what the hell you're on about, Jon." She said, standing up and grabbing her bag. "Look, I have to go."
"Clary!" Jon said, getting in her way, "This isn't alright! You need to put a stop to this, you don't deserve it—"
"What the hell do you know!" She burst out, chest heaving. The look on his face told her that he hadn't expected that, but she couldn't stop herself. "You don't get it, Jon, you have Lily. You don't understand."
She moved to get past him, making her way to the door.
"Oh, I don't get it? You're lecturing me about struggles, about ignorance, you don't know how lucky you have it!"
She froze. Let her head hang. Took a breath.
There were two things that she could do at this point. She could turn around, scream at him that he didn't understand what it was like to be her, to be a Fray, to be the daughter of two people that were too wrapped up in themselves to see that she was sinking. Or she could let it go, and not lose the only person in the world that shared the same blood as her that she could trust. Deep breath.
"I'm sorry," She muttered, turning around briefly. "You're right. But I promise, this wasn't Dad." She cut him off before he could shout any more. "I really have to go, Jon, I have practice... Love you- I'll call you and Lily about shifts tomorrow."
Before he could protest, she was out the door, sprinting toward the stairs and making her way breathlessly onto the street, eyes blurring with tears and her chest aching.
….
"Maia, I swear to fuck you need to get those kicks higher!" Isabelle called from her position on the bleachers, dark hair tied back tightly as she watched the squad perform their meticulous routine. Clary was occupied, being thrown in the air by Eric and Liam, concentrating not on Isabelle's voice but on staying alive whilst flinging herself into the air and contorting herself into impossible shapes. She landed, stepped, clapped her hands against Seelie and Maia and allowed herself to be lifted up, hanging tightly onto Helen, a blonde senior that Clary felt confident in trusting as she was flung to the top of a pyramid.
They were in perfect time. Isabelle was shouting. Everyone was sweating.
And when the music stopped, Clary felt nothing but euphoria.
She sat stock still in her splits, the freeze frame of their final position burning under the scrutiny of Isabelle's eyes. They were all out of breath but were holding in their pants, keeping form and posture. Isabelle stood up.
And grinned.
"Fuck yes!" She screamed, and all of a sudden they were all screaming, Clary being pulled to her feet by Maia and pulled into a hug. Isabelle was never happy with what they did. But she finally was.
"That kicked a-s-s!" She screamed out again, puling Clary over and pressing her into a tight hug. "Fuck, yes." She finally breathed, and they all laughed. She was never like this.
Clary was grinning too- in approximately three hours, their whole group would be loaded onto a bus, driven by Maia, a mystery to them all, and taken to St Xavier's where the regional qualifiers were being held. They had already landed themselves a top spot at sectionals at the start of the year, and now all they had to do was come in first or second to make their way to the National Championships. Clary was buzzing with energy, with excitement. It was stupid, but she lived for this shit.
She was also high on Isabelle's energy: she had been enjoying staying in the house with Alec and Magnus there- Magnus helped them practice their splits, Alec cooked them dinner every night, and they had been falling asleep way too late watching reruns of Murder She Wrote. She loved them all.
Simon had also wriggled his way into her affections. He was so chill, flitting in and out of Isabelle's house like he belonged there. He had been the one to drop them to school that morning, and Clary hadn't even noticed when she laughed at his jokes and waved goodbye.
When she didn't have to see her parents, life was kind of good.
"Okay everyone, eat lunch, shower because you all stink, and then we'll meet by the bus before two." Isabelle commanded, pulling her hair from her ponytail and clapping her hands. "We'll do make up on the bus- no Eric, you don't have to wear it if you don't want to- so make sure you've got nothing crazy on."
"Yes boss." Seelie said in mock salute, earning a swat from Isabelle as they exited the gym. Izzy smiled at Clary, swinging her arm over her best friend's shoulder.
"Alec says they're setting up for tonight." Isabelle said, grinning and pulling a chapstick from her leggings. Clary laughed.
"Alec's staying for the party?" She asked, and Isabelle nodded.
"Yep! A load of his friends are coming down for the night, and Sebastian promised he's spread the word."
Clary smiled.
"So… its gonna be a big one then?" They slipped into the changing room, stripping off and standing under the weak streams of cool water that came from the showers. Isabelle shouted over the cubicle, knowing the stream was too weak to drown them out.
"Hopefully! I'm in the mood for a blowout!" Isabelle shouted, and Clary laughed whilst trying to scrub her hair as quickly as possible. They had gotten out of lessons for the day due to practice, but she knew that Isabelle would want to meet the team at lunch to go over final details. They dried off and changed into their competition uniform, pulling on sweats and heading to the cafeteria.
"You look like a drowned rat." Magnus said as they slipped into their seats in the quiet cafeteria, dodging Clary's hit as he pushed a salad toward her. "Eat."
"Thanks, Mags—so kind of you." She chewed quietly whilst the team settled around her, face breaking into a smile when she spotted Sebastian sneaking in the side door; he smiled too, a wide grin , and came and slumped down beside her, planting a kiss on her cheek as she shook him off.
"Hey! Stop…" She laughed, letting him shuffle closer and tuck an arm around her shoulders. "How's your day been?" She asked, and Sebastian laughed in response.
"You mean week? I feel like I haven't seen you in forever." He replied, twirling a piece of her wet hair that was gradually turning back into its natural mess. Clary flushed, looking down.
"Yeah, I know… I've just been so busy." She said, stabbing a stale piece of lettuce. "I'm sorry."
"It's all good- how about I take you out after your competition? Before Izzy's? I'm coming to watch with Jordan and Raph anyway, I can take you somewhere nice…"
He seemed antsy, like she would say no, and Clary felt a wave of guilt. Everything in her life was always so full on and intense, it sometimes slipped her mind that the people around her needed her to be normal. Present. She smiled, looking into his dark eyes, and pressed her lips lightly against his.
"That sounds perfect, Seb. Can't wait."
His expression broke into a wide, toothy smile and he squeezed her gently, leaning in again. They were interrupted by the sound of gagging, and Clary looked up to see Isabelle pretending to throw up between bites of her sandwich.
"Shut up." She said, sticking her tongue out at her friend whilst everyone laughed. Magnus nudged her gently, and she turned to press her face a bit closer to his.
"Pretty boy is being especially friendly- what did he do wrong?" He asked, and Clary rolled her eyes.
"He did nothing wrong, Mag. We just haven't seen each other a lot lately."
"Social butterfly, that's you. Does he know you're staying with Izzy?" He said, and Clary glared.
"Everyone knows I'm staying with Izzy."
"You know what I mean, Fray. Does he know mommy and daddy are out of town?"
Clary raised an eyebrow.
"Why is that any of his business?" She replied, met with Magnus' knowing look.
"I just want to know how serious you and pretty boy are, you know. Clearly you're not letting him into your deepest and darkest—" Clary elbowed him lightly and he pressed his lips together. "Sorry. I just mean I'm wondering."
"Well stop wondering. I like him, and he's sat right here. So stop with the interrogation."
Magnus could tell he'd touched a nerve and sat back, eyebrows perpetually raised, and Clary just rolled her eyes.
"Okay ladies and gents—and all those beyond—we have half an hour until we need to get on the bus so please report to me and Mags for makeup and hair." Isabelle said to the table, clapping her hands. The regular lunch crowd began to trickle in as the team began a manic musical chairs to get prepared, Jordan and Sebastian helping Maia load bags onto the van as the Clary's hair was tugged into a tight, sleek ponytail. She blinked away the glitter in her eye as her heart began to flutter, and she let Sebastian kiss her through the open window as they all finally loaded their way onto the bus.
"Are you nervous?" She asked Isabelle when it was finally just them, smoking one cigarette between them to preserve their sense of health, cross legged at the back of the bus. Isabelle grinned, brown eyes wide and wild.
"Terrified." She said, laughing, and Clary rubbed her temple.
"Me too… this means everything, right now. If we can get on the team…"
"It means freedom."
"Freedom sound nice right about now."
Isabelle frowned, dropping the stub out the window.
"We can do this, yeah? Me and you? Make it out of this shit hole and do something good."
There was something in her voice, a string of hope at the edge of her usual hardness, the usual confidence. Something deeper than she was saying.
"Of course we are," Clary said firmly. "We're going to go to NYU, become famous artists, buy a huge mansion and fill it with microwave popcorn and high heels and shitty 80's movies. We're going to be happy."
Isabelle grinned again, clutching the seat as Maia swerved a pothole.
"Hell yeah we are."
….
Maybe Clary was the one who was nervous. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move. She was completely still.
The lights had yet to come up, but she was currently stood with her hands on her hips, back straight, legs planted firmly shoulder width apart. They had already watched St Xavier's team perform their explosive routine, as well as two teams from inter regional high schools. The fourth team to perform had dropped out because their team captain fell and broke their ankle, absolutely nothing to do with Isabelle, apparently, and now they were all on stage, set to go, and Clary could feel her heart beating so loud that she almost thought it might drown out the music.
Silence. Darkness.
And then the scene bloomed into life: she heard Isabelle shout their drill command and all of a sudden they were bathed in a blinding light, the music deafening in her ears. All there was left to do was smile and step in perfect formation. She couldn't see the audience, none of them could, but they could feel the baited breaths as the flyers were flung into unimaginable positions, as the team threw themselves into shapes and steps that they had been practicing for a month. Clary felt elation build up inside of her—she wasn't nervous. She was alive. For the first time in a long time.
She felt Magnus and Liam wrap their hands around her ankles and she braced herself for their show stopper: she couldn't see them, but she could sense the pyramid forming behind her, could feel Magnus and Liam getting themselves ready. Thirty seconds left, they would be forming a net with their limbs, ready to catch her as she jumped up, one, two, three times, the final time feeling the full strength of the two boys flinging her up. She twisted in the air, flipped herself over in an arc over Isabelle before feeling her back hit the human trampoline. She was flung up once more, flipped over herself again, and finally she landed. A perfect split as the pyramid came flowing down, Isabelle and Maia raised high, the rest of the girls posed perfectly around her as she held in her breathing. The music stopped.
She blinked.
And finally the world around her erupted into applause—the lights dimmed and she could finally see the audience, the beaming face of Alec who was front and centre, clapping as excitedly as she had ever seen him—which was admittedly not that excitedly. Jordan and Sebastian were with Raphael and Liam's girlfriend, stomping their feet and waving the Alicante banner above their heads, cheering louder than any of the teams had cheered. Clary knew she couldn't move yet, could only hold her stiff pose and grin like her life depended on it. But in that moment, she knew something that would be confirmed to her an hour later, after she had been pulled from the ground by Isabelle and the team had shared a ten minute long group hug and a share bag of Snickers. They had won. They were going to Nationals.
It was only later that evening when she was sat snuggled up with Sebastian in a booth outside under the stars at the fanciest restaurant they could find on short notice that she finally felt she could catch her breath. He had wrangled his way into getting them a bottle of wine, and Clary felt herself getting tipsy and carefree.
"I won't even lie, Clary, when you did that last flip over Isabelle's head I swear to God I thought you were gonna break you neck. How the fuck do you do that shit?" He asked breathlessly, an arm around her shoulder.
"That's years of Isabelle being a slave driver." She joked lightly, sipping her wine, and Sebastian laughed.
"She was fucking awesome too, man. You all were."
Clary could see out of the corner of her eye a waiter clearing the table, clearly uncomfortable at Sebastian's slightly slurred profanity. As he passed, she shot him a look of apology that was met with a curt smile, and picked up Seb's glass for herself, swatting his hand away and laughing.
"Hey! This is my celebration."
There was something sharp in the way he looked at her, only briefly, behind his eyes, and Clary swallowed down the last of the wine as Sebastian stood up and threw a fistful of bills on the table, pulling on his coat and reaching out an arm for her.
"C'mon," he said, pulling her to her feet and moving toward the parking lot, "we have a celebration to get to."
…..
Yet again Clary found herself arriving late to a party, one that was seemingly already in full swing. Sebastian was tense the whole journey, probably wound up from drinking too much, and he flung himself from the car the second he parked up. Clary took her time, lighting up a cigarette and making her way into the party, looking out for Isabelle as the wall of sound hit her. It was already dark and hazy, the stink of skunk and cheap beer almost assaulting to her. She couldn't see any of her teammates, all probably too far gone already, so instead settled for pouring herself the biggest vodka diet coke she could fit in a cup and heading for the yard. It was less crazy out there and she could actually feel herself think. Perching on one of the many stone steps she took a long drink and lit a cigarette, ready to get a bit drunker and find Isabelle.
"Hey."
Clary jumped slightly, looking up to see the lanky figure of Simon leaning over her. She smiled lightly.
"Hey, Simon." She said, remembering Isabelle's plea for her to go easy on him. "Where's Iz?" She asked, and he dropped beside her, accepting a cigarette and lighting up.
"Ah… Isabelle is—"
"Drunk?" She said, and he nodded.
"Yep. I was just here with a few buddies, wanted to congratulate her. But she said I'd better keep my distance." There was a touch of sadness in his voice. Something Clary understood: it was no fun being someone's dirty little secret.
"She's probably just trying to keep you safe from Seb. He's pretty pissed at—" She cut herself off. Jace.
"Yeah, yeah I know. Just sucks." He took a long drag and flicked his warm eyes over to her. "You did awesome tonight, too." He said much to Clary's amusement. "We were all watching."
Clary felt a hot blush rise up her cheeks and smiled.
"Thanks, Simon. That means a lot."
They sat in companiable silence for a while, laughing at the drunken partygoers tripping over themselves to try and get indoors. It must have been fifteen minutes before Simon got a message on his phone. He coughed lightly.
"Hey, a buddy of mine is gonna pull up so we can smoke—wanna join?"
And that's how Clary Fray ended up in a beat up Toyota outside Isabelle Lightwood's driveway, buzzed to cloud nine, passing a blunt around between herself, Simon, and Bat Levesque. He was a senior at Xavier's too, and Clary already knew him well—he worked at Lilith's, and it had been his fateful birthday party so long ago now that Clary had attended with Jon. Where Jace had obviously seen her.
She was stretched out in the backseat, laughing at Simon's Kermit the Frog impression and swaying her hand above her head in time to the music.
"Big Lou Reed fan?" Bat said, turning in his seat and handing her the last stub. Clary sat up slowly, inhaling deeply.
"Nah… I just like this one in this moment." She said, flicking her eyes over him.
"How'd you get that?" She blurted out, her hazy mind unable to stop her overstepping the mark and asking bat about the long, thick scar that ran from his forehead to the corner of his lip. Bat grimaced.
"A gift from a friend." He said, and Simon chuckled, flicking the light on in the car and bathing them all in an amber glow.
"A friend that gives excellent gifts, I'm sure Clary knows all about that." He slurred. "I'm starving, can we get food?" Was the whine that followed, ignoring the confused look from both Bat and Clary. Bat shrugged.
"I'm always down for food—how about you, princess?" Bat said, casting his dark eyes on her, and she nodded eagerly, lying back down across the backseat.
"I'm ravenous too." She said, staring up out the sunroof as Bat started the car, jaggedly moving them away from the chaos of Isabelle's house into the throes of the night.
That was how Clary ended up sat on the roof of Bat's car at two in the morning, eating fries from a paper bag as Simon and Bat rolled around on the concrete parking lot, shouting obscenities at each other whilst occasionally asking her to referee.
"Okay! Okay! Truce." Simon panted, lying on his back on the cold floor, staring up at the stars. "I'm sorry." He laughed, and Bat thumped his stomach.
"Wait, what are you sorry for?" Bat asked, and Clary nearly choked on a fry trying not to laugh. Simon scratched his head.
"Honestly I don't know. Getoof." He mumbled, pushing the other boy off of him and scrambling onto the roof, taking the food from Clary much to her chagrin. Bat rolled onto the hood of his car, lyimg facing the stars.
"Man, I really need to wait for this to wear off before I drive again." He said, staring at the sky.
"That's fine by me." Said Simon, slightly bitterly.
"What's up your butt?" Clary asked, stealing another fry, and Simon leant back, looking at the sky too.
"I wish she would tell her friends about me." He whispered, and Clary sighed, crossing her legs and feeling the roof groan.
"Why?" She asked.
"What do you mean, why? She's ashamed of me. She doesn't think I'm good enough and she never will."
"Oh, that's bullshit."
"Well, she won't introduce me to any of her friends, or her parents—"
Clary cut him off. "She introduced you to me, which is by far the biggest tell that she means business. And Alec and Mags, and I'm sure she'll tell Maia too. The thing with Izzy is that she doesn't let a lot of people close. But when she does—" Clary had to take a deep breath, up the heartrate that had slowed due to a mixture of exhaustion and marijuana—" she gives the whole of her heart."
"Fucking hell—why do I feel like we're hiding then?" He asked, and Clary grimaced.
"I mean, half the people we hang out with don't give a shit about Izzy—hell, neither do her parents. Maybe hiding is good. People are judgemental. They have dumb opinions—maybe keeping it hidden is best for everyone." She said carefully, not quite sure who she was persuading.
"C'mon, red. Look how well that worked out for you and Herondale." He murmured and Clary caught her breath.
"What!" They both jumped as Bat, who had for a long time been silent, jumped upright to scrutinise Clary. "You're the chick that's got Herondale all shit-for-brained?"
Clary opened her mouth wordlessly, shooting Simon a furious look as the boy in front of her just mouthed an apology.
"Herondale has always had shit for brains." Simon said lightly, trying to diffuse the tension.
"What—I mean, wha—when, why—what!?"
"Are you sure you aren't the one with shit for brains." Clary muttered, lying back so that her back hit the roof too. "It was nothing,"
"But when did this happen! I've known Jace his whole damn life, he's the one that gave me this damn scar, and yet he wouldn't tell me a damn thing about the girl he was hiding in his bed."
Clary swallowed thickly. They were making it sound so much dirtier. Well, she thought, it had been pretty dirty, but not like that.
"It doesn't matter what we were. What we are is over. He made sure of that." She replied bitterly, and Bat laughed.
"Ouch," He said, slipping off the car and lighting up a cigarette, reaching up and tugging on Clary's arm so that she was upright, watching him. "That's not what he says."
Simon sat upright at that too, glancing around as though someone might be watching, and shot Bat a warning look again.
"Shut the fuck up, man."
"Nah, whenever he's high he goes on and on about the girl that broke his heart, the girl that he'll do anything to get back." Clary swallowed, watching Bat's eager watching of her. "Can't believe it turned out to be a cute shortstack from the north side. Jonathon's little baby sister." She widened her eyes, hoping that Simon didn't hear that.
Clary blushed red and pushed herself off the car, opening the back door. "Let's go back. I think Izzy will wonder where I am." She said carefully as Simon slipped off the car too. "Please."
Bat just bit his lip and nodded, whistling and wandering to the front seat, climbing in and staring the engine the second that Simon had ducked his head in. They drove back in silence, blaring music drowning out any tension, and Clary took the opportunity to flick Simon in the back of the head.
"Ow!" He yelled indignantly, turning to look at her. "What the hell!"
"Thanks a lot, asshole, now he knows about me and –"
"Oh, relax, red. He's so high he'll probably forget anyway. And besides, you keep telling me that you and him are over." He said, rubbing his head. Clary frowned.
"We are over." She responded vehemently, and Simon shot her a knowing smirk.
"Well for two people who claim to want nothing to do with one another, you sure as hell spend a lot of time talking about each other." Clary opened her mouth, ready to argue, but Simon just reached out a hand and lightly shut her open jaw. "Don't. I remember how the two of you were together, even if you're pretending you don't. You could just, you know, talk to him."
Clary swallowed. "No I couldn't." She whispered, Simon's hand still on her chin, and he smiled crookedly.
"Course you could. You're a big girl. Sometimes you need to ignore the people that hurt you, pretend they don't exist. And sometimes you need to heal what's been broken."
The car came to a rough stop and Bat nearly immediately placed his head on the wheel, falling into a wordless sleep. Clary wiped at an eye, not realising that she had started to cry.
"My fucking heart is what's broken, Lewis." She whispered, him looking into her deep green eyes and smiling sympathetically.
"I know." He said. "Maybe do it anyway. Hell, I may be fucking miserable half the time, but we both know I'm not leaving Iz anytime soon because I lo—"
Love.
This time he cut himself off, and Clary continued to wipe her eyes. "It's okay. Say it, I kind of already knew. You love her, she loves you, even though you've known each other for like two months. It's nice."
Simon bit his lip.
"Talk to Jace." He said. For a long moment, the kind that stretched between two eternities, Clary imagined that she would talk to him, that she'd call up the number she didn't know that she had memorised and walk to the apartment he shared with his cousin and they would sit on his couch talking until the sun came up, like they did that first night. That she would sleep next to him. Curled up beside him, like she did a week after that.
Then she blinked, and she was back in the old Toyota, Simon clambering from the vehicle and opening the door for her. She accepted his hand and brushed herself off as he got back into the car, leaning down to his open window.
"I'm with Seb, now," She said, pushing a curl behind her ear. "and I'm happy. But thank you, Si. I can see why Izzy keeps you around."
Simon smiled sadly as she walked away, knowing full well that she was lying.
…
Riotously drunk. That's what Magnus kept saying. And for once, Clary and Isabelle were inclined to agree with their overly theatrical. Clary had arrived back to find the living room already flooded with people grinding on each other, no sign of the party stopping any time soon. Isabelle had been mixing drinks for two guys that Clary didn't know, Sebastian and the others nowhere in sight, and the semi privacy allowed the two friends to drink more than they should have in order to catch up. It was nearly three in the morning by the time that Clary finally found all her friends, and her and Isabelle found themselves sat on the floor of one of Isabelle's many immaculate bathrooms as Helen's girlfriend Aline puked her guts out, Maia and Seelie sat giggling in the bathtub.
"No listen, he was hot, like, Sebastian hot." Seelie laughed, waving away Clary's indignation.
"Well why don't you just date him then." Maia said, listening to Seelie talk about the guy that she had been making out with all evening.
"Eh." Seelie shrugged. "He was one of Alec's college friends, I think. I don't want that hassle—he was just super cute."
"You think everyone is hot." Clary said, trying to ignore Aline's puking. Seelie tried to aim a bottle of shampoo at her, failing miserably in her inebriated state. In the background of the party there was the distinct sound of smashing, and Isabelle wobbled to her feet, her already short dress rising up her skyscraper legs. Clary scrambled to follow, and they stumbled through the dregs of the party to the sound system, Isabelle pulling the plug to a chorus of groans.
"Yeah, yeah." She yelled, waving her hand at her classmates. "everybody out!"
People began to filter past, and in her haze Clary saw Alec and a few of his friends herding the crowd out. She also saw Magnus with him, and urged her drunk brain to remember that detail for later. Isabelle stumbled onto the couch, and Clary watched as Simon materialised, Isabelle letting him carefully loop her arm around his shoulder and carry her off upstairs. Clary stumbled her way throughout the house as people filtered out and upstairs, looking for her phone.
"Clare!" Clary looked up at the sound and saw Sebastian barrelling toward her. She smiled lightly, frowning when she felt his hand wrap around her arm "You're coming with me, okay?"
He was grinning but was also dragging her toward the door. "Wait, Seb, I'm staying here." She mumbled, tripping over her feet. "Sebastian!"
She knew her voice was garbled, but surely, he could hear her. Her feet were skimming the ground, and before she knew it, she was out the door. There was a swell of anger growing within her, frustration at her parents, at herself. At Sebastian. Finally she tugged back, trying to stop her boyfriend who was on a mission: it seemed to be the wrong move. He stopped, then whipped his arm, sending her flying to the ground. Her face hit the gravel of Isabelle's driveway first, burning her nose and making her splutter. She groaned.
"Oh god." Sebastian slurred, looking down at her, trying to pull her up. "I am so sorry, I didn't mean—"
"Get the fuck off me." She muttered, trying to sit upright. She was too drunk and slipped, rolling onto her side.
"Clary, wait."
"She said get the fuck off."
Clary didn't have to look up to know who was there. Jace was smoking the stub of a cigarette, hand in his pocket and eyes hard as he approached Sebastian. Clary couldn't concentrate on what they were saying, holding a hand up to her nose and feeling the hot, wet stream of blood. She glanced at her hand and felt her stomach turn at the scarlet stain. They were shouting now, but she didn't care. She couldn't stop staring at the blood. Maybe she should just stay there on the ground. It was still.
"Hey." She looked up at the softness in Jace's voice: he was crouched down in front of her, reaching out his hands. "Can you stand up."
Clary nodded vacantly, letting him slip a warm hand into hers, pulling her up and snaking an arm around her waist when she stumbled. "Careful." He whispered, pulling her toward the house.
"What… why are you here?" She asked quietly. Jace pushed open the front door and took in the chaos, kicking cup out of his way as he made his way to the kitchen.
"Meant to be getting Simon." He said gruffly, finally setting Clary down on one of the seats at the island and grabbing paper towels, wetting them and approaching Clary. "Can I…?"
Clary looked up at his face: he looked tired, worn out. There was a softness in his eyes, and behind all the snark and attitude was the guy that Clary had once known. She nodded gently.
He pressed the towel to her face and she gasped as he cleaned her up. It hurt, and tears stand in her eyes. Jace grimaced and grabbed a dry towel, caressing her cheek gently. "Please don't cry." He whispered. "I hate when you cry."
"I hate you." She said, finally letting a sob take over her.
"I know."
"I hate you so much."
"Yeah." She kept crying, fisting her hands in Jace's shirt. He kept swiping at her tears, his heart clenching.
"I hate you; I hate you." She whispered, repeating it over and over until she couldn't speak anymore. "It hurts so much."
"I'll kill that guy." Jace said blankly, and Clary hit his chest.
"No, it hurts inside. It hurts so much all the time. Because I hate you for hurting me when I love you so damn much."
She felt him suck in a breath, still swiping at her tears.
"Don't say that."
"I mean it." She said, looking down and choking. "I don't care anymore, I love you. Simon loves Iz. Iz loves Simon. And I love you. I barely knew you but I loved you and it hurts."
"Stop."
"I love you."
"Please, stop." He growled.
"Why? Because you don't love me. I get it. I piss you off. I mess up."
Jac leant down, and before she knew what was happening, he had her lips on hers, pressing against her, arms gripping her waist. Clary gasped against him, pulling him tighter to her with her fists in his shirt. He tasted like cigarettes, and she could taste her own blood on her lips. She broke them apart, panting.
"Obviously, I love you." Jace whispered his forehead against hers. He stroked her cheek, then pulled back. "But we're a mess." He extracted himself from her grip, tucking a rogue red curl behind her ear. "And you're very drunk." He whispered, almost silently, eyes searching hers for something he thought he had lost. The air around them buzzed, and Clary felt the start of a thousand words swirling on her tongue, the promise of sanity, the request for more moments with him about to burst through her bruised lips.
Instead she choked, saying nothing. And he walked away.