The idea for this fic was born from a conversation Nadja and I had about (among a lot of other things) Jonathan, and how unfairly he's treated throughout Shadowhunters. The fact that both the show and the books tell us that Downworlders having demon-blood doesn't mean they're evil, while at the same time Jonathan is said to be evil, to have been all along, he's essentially supposed to have been born bad, why? Because of demon blood! Which makes absolutely no sense! Either demon blood makes one evil or it doesn't. Personally, I don't believe that people are born evil. Yes, I know there are all those studies about personality disorders, certain genes and the like; but even if someone 'might' be born with a certain... inclination, doesn't mean they'll ever act on it. Being good or bad is a choice. What all this rant leads to is, in my opinion, Jonathan was never really allowed to make that choice, he was pushed and pulled and downright tortured until he became what he had to, in order to survive.
During my talks with Nadja I remembered the talks Clary has in S03E17 with Jace, about her dreams of a boy trapped in a burning tower, her wishes that she could have saved him, how things might have been different... I hated how quickly Jace shot her down, and that she never actually tried. I wanted her to try, and so this fic was born...
Also, while building the background for the story, the explanation of how and why Clary was going to manage to change things, I re-watched that scene with the conversation between Clary and Jocelyn and got this insane idea... you'll see what I mean in the fic.
I really hope you'll enjoy this!
P.S. Nadja, this is for you, hope you'll believe I've done justice to the things we talked about!
The Burning Tower
"You dreamt of a boy in a burning tower."
"There was this evil queen that kept her prince locked in a burning tower, so that he could never love anyone but her. And I was the princess that was supposed to rescue him. Every time I would climb that tower, and just as I'd reach the top… I would fall. I never made it to the top. I couldn't rescue him. I can still hear his screams. It was him."
"The prince was Jonathan."
"Maybe… Maybe I was supposed to save him… but I didn't. I couldn't…"
"Clary, hey. Even if this was a message from the angels… you were just a kid."
"Yeah, but if I had known, if I could've saved him, then… maybe… maybe he wouldn't be who he is today."
"No. It was already too late. You couldn't have changed him. Still can't. Jonathan is who he is."
But what if he isn't? What if it isn't that simple? They have free will, after all. And she knows that for a fact! It was the whole point of her 'little' argument with her mother, or with whatever the Angels sent her that they wanted her to believe was her mom. Whether that was Jocelyn Fairchild or not is irrelevant in the end. What matters is what She does now. What Choice she makes…
Even as she approaches Jonathan on the street in Toronto, surrounded by the dead and the dying, she has no idea what she's going to do. It's… she went there to kill him, that's the truth; believing there was nothing else she could do. He's too far gone, a monster; as much as she might have wanted… as much as a part of her might still want to save him, she has no idea how! And in the end, Jonathan needs to be stopped, and as her sister, as the only one left of their line, he is her responsibility, isn't he? It seems ironic, and so very cruel, that she failed to save him and now, now she's supposed to kill him? It's not fair!
"Jonathan, you and I, we've always been connected. When you were in Edom, crying out for me, I was dreaming about you…"
"You dreamt of me?"
"And when I found out that I actually had a brother, I didn't feel so alone anymore. I never met you, but I felt like I actually had a family."
"And then you turned your back on that family."
"I tried not to. I wanted to believe in you, Jonathan. I did. Ever since I was a little girl, you were my boy in the tower. The boy that I always wanted to save but I never thought I could. I guess I was right. 'Cause, Jonathan, you know just as much as I do that our family is our biggest source of heartbreak." She strokes his cheek. "But despite anything you've done and what we've been through, or how much I wanna fight it or wipe it away, I will always love you. Always.
"I love you, too, Clary."
She does, she loves him, so very very much…
She makes the choice, in a moment, and it changes everything. So she nods, and pulls Jonathan into a hug. She cries, even as she draws a very elaborate rune, one that takes not just the palm of her hand, but then it goes down, to her wrist, and circles it.
"Clary? Clary! What are you doing?"
He's so confused, so very confused, but even then he refuses to let go of her.
"I love you Jonathan… so, so much…" She somehow manages to speak through her tears. "And I promise you that this time I'm going to save you…"
"This time? Wha… Clary?!"
Darkness swallows her whole.
xXx
It's the oddest feeling in the world. One moment there's solid-ground under her feet, the next there isn't; then, in less time than it takes for her heart to beat twice, it's there again. Almost like it was never gone, except it was, and no matter how short the absence, it's still enough for her to feel it, and it plays havoc in her: she's incredibly dizzy, her vision blurry, her ears are ringing, and she can barely hold back the need to vomit; she also loses her balance enough to go down on one knee, hard.
She waits. Long enough for all her senses to return to normal, for her to be sure she won't keel over the moment she tries to stand. Ever so slowly she takes in her surroundings, she's exactly where she started, in the middle of the street in downtown Toronto. She might even wonder if anything happened at all, except that for all that it's the same street, the place looks nothing like it did when she last laid eyes on it. All the abandoned cars, the dead people, they're not there, neither is Jonathan. It's probably a good thing she's fully glamoured, otherwise she's quite sure her abrupt appearance would have caused quite a few issues.
Once she's sure she's alright (or as much as she can be at present), Clary rises to her feet. Instinctively she glances at her outer right forearm, it's completely bare. Then she turns to her left, and there she can see it on the palm, down to the wrist and all around it, the very rune that brought her to where she is now. That's giving her this one chance… she can make things right. She will… if it's the last thing she does!
Her first stop is her old place, or rather, her mother's. Because she knows her brother's in Edom, but that's a whole freaking world, so she needs to be able to track him; which in turn means she needs something from him, and she knows exactly what to use…
She climbs the back wall of the building and slips into the apartment through a window she remembers her mother never locked. Really, if she didn't know that Dot kept the place warded to hell and back she might wonder at her mother's disregard for her own safety; she still does actually, considering that she knows she won't trip the wards because she's keyed in, by blood, and Valentine's her blood to, isn't he? Which means that the wards never did shit to protect her, them, from him! Still, that's not her priority right now, her brother is, she needs to focus…
She draws a new, modified invisibility rune under her old one, to ensure that if her mother happens to wake up she won't see her; activates her soundless and night-vision runes as well. Really, Clary cannot even imagine how she could ever begin to explain who she is, or what she's planning to do. Her mother would never understand. She never saw Jonathan as anything other than Valentine's experiment. As more demon than human, or nephilim? Clary cannot help but wonder: when was the last time her mother saw her brother and considered him her son? She's not sure she can bare to know the answer…
It's… Clary has many reasons to be angry at her mother. She does! She will always love the woman, she's her mother, after all. But it's just… It's too much sometimes. The lies, the secrets, the cowardice… In any case, it's not what she's there for, so Clary forces herself to focus on the task at hand as she slips inside her mother's bedroom, going straight for the small chest and the lock of hair she knows is at the bottom of it.
She's on her way out when the sound of whimpering reaches her ears. Her reaction is instinctive as the young woman opens the next door and slips inside her childhood bedroom. And there, on the bed, is the child version of her, twisting and whimpering in her bed.
"No, no… hold on… I'm gonna save you!" She starts calling. "I swear… I…"
Clary's not sure how dangerous it might be for her to even be there in that moment, but at the same time she cannot just do nothing. She still remembers what she told Jace, about waking up screaming, about still being able to hear the prince's screams…
"Nononono…" Her child-self whines, louder. "I'm coming… I promise… please…"
"Shhhh…" The older Clary whispers, kneeling on the floor and bending as close as she dare, almost but not quit touching her younger self. "It's okay, it's okay little one. I'm here… I'm here and I promise you I'm gonna save him. I'll save the prince…"
She repeats the same promises, over and over again, until her child-self stops whimpering and sobbing; taking that as a sign she stands up, heading for the window in that room, as it's the closest, and she's already stayed longer inside the house than she ever planned to. So focused she is on getting out she doesn't notice the pair of green eyes, barely open and still slightly clouded with sleep, though fixed fully on her…
xXx
The portal spits her out… somewhere in Edom, Everything looks the same to her in that an… that forsaken place. A glance at the brand-new rune on the inside of her right wrist, which is already starting to look lighter sharpens her focus… she knows she needs to hurry, as the power of the rune (and her extra-angelic blood) is all that's allowing her to survive in Edom. She doesn't have long. So with that in mind she pulls the lock of baby hair out of a pocket of her leather jacket, holding it tight in her right hand at the same time she draws a tracking rune on the back of it. She loses her breath, just for a fraction of second, as her core's forced to balance the use of two runes, particularly with how complex and powerful the one keeping her alive is already. Still, she manages, a route appearing magically inside her head, and suddenly she knows exactly what direction she must take. Time is of the essence, so she takes a deep breath, and pushes inside of herself, a pair of pearly white wings burst from her back, she flaps them, once, twice, and then she's in the air and flying fast and sure towards her destination: the burning tower, and her captive prince…
She doesn't really know how long she flies, time… doesn't seem to quite flow right, and she's not sure if it's Edom, the rune, the time-hopping, or something else entirely, she doesn't much care either, as long as she fulfills her objective. Eventually she makes it to the tower and… it's almost strange because it really doesn't seem that big, not like she remembers it, from her dreams. She doesn't know if it's the fact that this is the real world rather than a dream, that she's no longer a child, or perhaps things just look different from above… her line of thought is derailed abruptly though when she hears the screaming. Screams she can remember with painful, heart-wrenching clarity…
Her reaction is immediate, instinctive. She has no weapons on her, which complicates matters somewhat, though even that doesn't stop her.
"Leave him alone!" She screams at the demon who's managed to get inside the tower and is hurting the little boy.
When the demon makes the mistake of approaching the window, to look out and find out who's yelling, she takes advantage of the opportunity, flying close enough to the tower to grab it and pull it straight out the window, letting go of it the moment they clear it. The demon falls with a loud screech. Clary knows it's not dead, demons don't really die in the demonic realm, or rather, they die and get reformed, again and again, for eternity. The demons at the foot of the tower start screeching, loudly. Clary has no idea what they're saying, demonic languages weren't really a subject she focused much on when runes and combat seemed much more important for her survival… Still, she doubts it's anything good, which means she needs to go, fast. Though not without her brother!
"Jonathan!" She calls to him.
She takes her first good luck at him when he approaches the window (or more like opening, really) on the wall of the tower. She barely keeps herself from shrieking in horror, or breaking into tears at what she sees. Her brother… saying he's burnt is such an understatement she doesn't have words to express herself right. She knew some of it… she can remember Jonathan saying something once, about his arrival to Edom when he was little, something about having been 'too pretty'. But back then the comment had been said in such a blasé tone, like there was some kind of private joke, and Lilith's reaction… she laughed!
"Who are you?" Jonathan's question manage to pull her out of her spiraling thoughts. "How do you know my name?!"
"I… I'm Kiara…" She answers. It's not exactly her name, but a variation of it so, not technically a lie, and she knows better than saying her true name when anyone might be able to hear it. Especially considering the kind of danger that might put her younger self in. "I'm… I came here to rescue you."
"Are you my guardian angel?" The boy asks, and while he still sounds more than a little doubtful, there's an underlying of hope in his voice that Clary cannot help but notice.
She feels like crying all over again. How long did her brother keep calling out, praying, begging for someone to save him? For an angel to come for him? And yet none did. Because in the end angels are absolutely useless!
"Something like that," is all she can say in the end.
Before Jonathan can say anything else, ask anymore questions, they can both hear movement in the distance. The demonic screeching takes a whole new turn.
"Oh no…" Jonathan gasps, turning to Clary. "You need to go. You need to go now!"
"No!" Clary refuses to even think about it. "Not without you!"
"You don't understand!" Jonathan snaps. "She… she won't like you being here. She says… she says I'm supposed to love only her. If she finds you here, if she knows you're here for me… she'll kill you, or worse!"
"Come with me." Clary says then.
"I…" Yet again, he hesitates.
She understands, of course she does. She cannot even begin to imagine the kind of pain he's gone through, might be in even in that very moment. But as bad as it all might be, sometimes hoping for something, anything, is even more dangerous. Because what if it goes wrong? What if you're disappointed… again?
"Please Jonathan…" She begs him. "I know you don't know me, don't know if you can trust me, but I swear to you, I'm here for you, to save you. Let me. Please…"
They can both hear a door somewhere inside the tower slam, and then a voice calling.
"JONATHAN!" It's Lilith!
The little boy makes his decision in an instant. When he takes a few steps back Clary actually thinks he might be rejecting her. Yet before she even has the chance to feel any sort of horror or disappointment or anything else, he's taking a running start and throwing himself right out the window. Clary lets out the smallest shriek in fright even as she moves to catch him, it takes her a few seconds to right herself with the added weight.
"Are you alright?" She asks him once she's sure she's stable.
"I… can you really get me out of here?" He asks softly.
His arms are wound around her neck, holding on tight, and if it weren't for her focus on not dropping him she might hesitate in holding him tightly enough, afraid she might hurt him, with how badly burnt he is. He doesn't say a thing about it though, not when he crashes against her, or when she wraps her arms around him to help settle him against her hip in such a way that she might be able to hold him with one arm as she holds her stele with the other hand. Makes her wonder if the burns are so bad he no longer feels any pain, or if maybe he's so used to the pain it makes no difference to him anymore… she's not sure which might be worse, actually.
"Yes I can, I will get you out of here, I promise." She reassures him.
"ANGEL!" Lilith's shriek lets them know she's seen Clary. "Come back here thrice-damned angel! That boy is mine! My blood! My son! You cannot take him from me!"
Clary ignores her, turning around and flapping her wings to put some distance between them and the Burning Tower. Of course, because this is Lilith and she's not one to give up at the best of times, she transforms into her demonic form, bat-like wings sprouting out of her back and goes after them.
"She's coming after us!" Jonathan cries out, practically in her ear.
He's so terrified, and Clary feels for him. For how he must have suffered to be so afraid…
"Hold on tight." She instructs him as she opens her wings more fully and pushes herself to go faster, as fast as she can go.
At first Clary has no idea what to do. Or rather, she knows the what, but not the how. And then she sees a construction on the distance, a building she recognizes: Asmodeus' castle! That gives her a rather insane idea. Insane, but if it works… It's not like she has any other plans, so she shifts slightly and heads in that direction.
"Where are we going?" Jonathan asks, hesitantly.
"I can make a portal to get us out of Edom." She tells the little boy in her arms. "But to do that I need to stop, and I cannot stop while she's coming after us…"
"Are you going to leave me…?" He asks her, in a terribly small voice. "I… If you put me down fast, or if you let me go, she'll come after me first and…"
"No!" She snaps, hugging him tighter to her, just for a moment. "No, I'm not letting you go Jonathan. I promised I'd get you out of here and I will." She takes a deep breath. "We just need to lose her first…"
Taking a deep breath, half praying that her insane plan will work out (and who exactly is she praying to anymore?! It's not like the angels are interested in helping her!) Clary dives down, as close to the ground as she dares get, flying past Asmodeus's castle, close enough to call attention, but not so much that any demons might catch her.
Her plan goes off without a hitch. Better than even she expected it to. Lilith's so focused on catching her, on getting Jonathan back, that she doesn't notice where they are exactly. By the time Asmodeus rushes out she's already past the castle, flying high and fast, in the direction of the mountains, rounding one the moment she gets there, hoping Asmodeus was surprised enough by Lilith showing up in his territory that he might have missed Clary entirely. In any case, whatever he might have done when noticing the Queen of Demons so close to his castle, it's enough to put some distance between them. Enough that after a few minutes without hearing any shrieking Clary finally dares stop long enough to actually pull out her stele once again and draw the portal rune in the air.
She turns to look at Jonathan for a moment, the little boy's staring at the hole in the air with very wide eyes, like he cannot quite believe what he's seeing, what it means.
"Hold on tight." She tells him. "The ride might be a bit bumpy."
Jonathan does as told, tightening his hold around her neck, and wounding his legs around her waist for good measure, then he buries his face into the side of her neck. Clary cannot help herself as she smiles, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head and after taking a deep breath, making sure to focus on home, she dives through the portal.
xXx
Turns out, her definition of home might be a little skewed. Either that or… well, she doesn't really want to think too hard about what it means exactly when the portals delivers her and Jonathan to a dark alley around a corner from a little known back entrance into the NYI. Thankfully, because it's a little known, and even less used entrance there's no one around to see them land. The landing far more… rocky than she'd have preferred, particularly since she pretty much loses her wings around the time they're coming out of portal, which is still several feet off the ground. Clary realizes what's happening in time to twist in mid-air, as well as shifting Jonathan in her arms to make sure she won't end up hurting his legs or hands. It means that she ends up landing on her back, a hip and one arm hard enough for pain to rush through her whole body, enough that even a couple of iratzes make it just manageable without fully healing the injuries. But it's not like she wasn't expecting it.
"Come on, we gotta go," She tells Jonathan as she pulls the both of them to their feet.
"Where are we?" The little boy asks, looking around with all the curiosity of an innocent child.
It makes her want to cry and scream in turns. She's so happy, that she managed to get to him in time. Time for him to still be a child and not… whatever he became in the time she comes from. But at the same time she could scream because how is it that no one was there to save him the first time around?!
"New York," Clary answers promptly. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."
"I know," And there just… there's no doubt in him, not anymore. "You're my guardian angel…"
Clary forces herself to focus, this isn't the time for her to break down. Not now, not yet. Maybe once she's secured his future, made sure he will stay safe…
Making use of some old memories of overheard conversations between Luke and her mother, and at times Luke and his old colleagues from the NYPD they make it to a small church there in Manhattan. She's glamoured herself and Jonathan just enough that the mundanes see them, but not notice anything that may scare them: no strange clothes, no runes, and no burns. Jonathan's glamour is based on his real looks, which makes them look similar enough that no one thinks it odd for the two of them to be walking around together, thinking them nothing more than a pair of siblings walking around the city. The church is a place where they handle good-will, which allows Clary to get some clothes and even food for the both of them. She notices a few people looking at them, though none of them say anything, if anything the woman serving the food makes sure to give them an extra-big ration, and another slips a piece of candy on Jonathan's tray. They probably think they're the children of some junkies or jobless parents. Clary doesn't bother trying to correct their assumptions. It doesn't really matter, in the grand scheme of things.
After the food and with a bag containing a couple of changes of clothes, including jackets, a small plastic bag full of toiletries and even a little paper bag with a couple of cold-cut sandwiches, water bottles and a couple of cookies one of the women insisted she take 'for later', Clary leads Jonathan to a small, mostly abandoned building near the edge of the river. It's something else she remembered hearing Luke talk about. The condemned buildings that should have been demolished yet weren't, which some homeless would at times sleep in. They go to the top floor, the one least likely to be occupied, and once there she kneels down to draw a couple of runes on the bottom of a column, for safety.
"Why there?" Jonathan asks her.
He's been asking a lot of questions all day. From what they were eating exactly, to what the very soft material of the sweater he got was, to what a cookie was supposed to be. Each question a blow to Clary's heart and mind, making her understand just how much Jonathan lost, or rather, never had. He never got the chance to be a child, not really, to be carefree and happy and… Clary promises herself, not for the first time, that she'll ensure Jonathan's current life will be everything the first one wasn't, if it's the last thing she does!
"Most people would expect the runes to be at a height with them." Clary answers honestly. "As that's what's easier. No one would expect me to do what I'm doing."
"Oh, that's clever!" Jonathan smiles brightly at her.
There's an abandoned mattress that while not in the best condition, it could be much worse. They got quick showers and changed into some of the good-will clothes in a bathroom in a gym a block away, using glamours to slip inside unseen. Jonathan falls asleep curled against her, his head on her shoulder, and she's not quite sure if he's just afraid she might vanish if he's not holding onto her, if he's trying to take some comfort from her presence or maybe even a bit of both. Clary doesn't mind, what's more, she holds him back just as tightly, reminding herself that as bad as her brother's other life might have been, it doesn't matter, not anymore. This life is the one that matters.
She wakes up first, several hours later, which doesn't really surprise her, all things told. The first thing she notices is that the couple of iratzes she drew on Jonathan before falling asleep seem to have started working. They're not enough, nowhere near enough, but right where she drew them, blackened skin seems to be falling off, revealing pink-almost red, tender new skin underneath. It's not going to be easy, and it'll probably take a long time, but Jonathan will get better. She knows that now. Still, she knows they'll need help. Jonathan is going to need more help than just her, especially…
"Kiara…?" For a moment she actually wonders who he's calling to, and then she remembers, that's the name she gave him!
"I'm here Jonathan." She assures him.
"I feel…" He starts, then trails off, unsure.
"How do you feel?" She asks him, very softly.
"Good, I think." It's almost like he's not even sure what that means…
"I'm glad." Clary smiles as best she can at him.
"What are we going to do now?" He asks her quietly.
And isn't that the question…
xXx
Their first stop the Fray apartment. Clary did consider seeking out Catarina (of the few warlocks she's familiar with she's the only one Clary trusts and whom she knows specializes in healing, which means she might be able to help Jonathan), while the iratzes are helping, it's going too slow, and since the burns were caused by demonic fire she kind of hopes that warlock healing might work better. In the end she decides against it, while the Catarina from the future probably would have helped, that doesn't mean that the one from this time will. So, while she makes up her mind on how to handle things, she decides to drop by the apartment. First, she wants to replace the lock of baby hair. They passed a market on the way there, and Clary had a brilliant (if perhaps crazy) idea, making sure she remained glamoured she cut a lock of hair from a doll in one of the stalls that sold toys. The dolls were even advertised as being very 'life-like', the vendor even insisting that it was real hair. Clary chose the one with a similar enough shade to Jonathan's baby hair and intends to put that in Jocelyn's old chest.
Originally she intended to return the true lock of hair, if only to try and make sure Jocelyn wouldn't notice anything amiss. Also, it served her as an excuse to get into the apartment and try the more insane part of her plan… But then she realized that it might not be the best idea. She can still remember her mother trying to kill Jace when she (all of them really) believed him to be her brother. As much as it might hurt her to admit it, she has no doubt it'd be the same if she ever found out about Jonathan… which means she cannot find out. Hence the false lock of hair. If her mother ever thinks about using it to track him the hair will not point towards him. If they were dealing with mundanes she'd worry about DNA tests and the like, but if she realized something in her time as a shadowhunter it's that most individuals in the Shadow World (both shadowhunters and downworlders) are so obsessed with their own abilities, with what makes them different from the mundanes, that they will never begin to consider anything made by humans could be useful. Really, what other reason can there be for none of them to have ever run a DNA test back when Valentine first claimed Jace was his son? They'd have avoided so many complications, so much heartache, if they'd done that. But it never occurred to them! Or rather, it occurred to one of them, Simon, and Izzy shot him down. Claiming that 'mundane science' was worthless in the Shadow World or something… At the time Clary didn't think anything of it, considering that maybe DNA worked differently for those who weren't quite human. But then, does it really, or is it just another show of them, all of them, believing themselves better? Not like it'd be the first time, really! It seems like some kind of magical prerogative, something hardwired into them, this need to believe that they're… more, better.
She realizes something's not gone according to plan the moment she slips into the apartment. A part of her knows even before that, but doesn't allow herself to stop, to hesitate. She managed to convince Jonathan to let her go alone, to wait for her, though he insisted on being close, so he's standing on the rooftop of another building, across the small alley behind the one she's currently in. She has no doubt Jonathan must be paying very close attention, if she'd hesitated for even a moment, had so much as slowed down… the chances that he'd have tried to go to her were too big. So she ignores her instincts and keeps going. Until she makes it inside the building and, pretty much the moment she clears the window, finds herself frozen in place.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" The warlock asks in a drawl. "What's a little shadowhunter doing in a warlock's home?"
She could have pointed out that Dot's home is actually in the apartment bellow… but that would have meant giving away too much. Also, it isn't the point, strictly speaking.
"I'm not a shadowhunter," is what she says instead.
"Don't play games with me, little miss," Magnus's tone turns abruptly hard. "You might have a glamour on, better than any I've seen in another shadowhunter before, but your little angelic runes give you away…"
"I said I'm not a shadowhunter, not that I'm not nephilim." She points out with more calm than she actually feels. "They're not the same thing, you know?"
"Oh, I do know." His tone takes the tone of a drawl once again. "Didn't expect one of you to."
Doesn't surprise her, really. She saw it before, the way so many seemed to use the terms nephilim and shadowhunter as if they were interchangeable, as if they were the same thing. But they're not. Being a shadowhunter, it's a job, being nephilim, it's in their blood… of course, maybe the fact that the Clave makes a point to start training their nephilim so young, effectively making child soldiers… it doesn't really surprise her that they wouldn't see a difference. It saddens her though, because it means that most shadowhunters never really get the chance to be children… she won't allow such a fate to befall Jonathan. He's suffered enough already!
"Who are you, little nephilim?" Magnus asks, sounding more curious than angry, or annoyed.
"Kiara," She gives him the same name she gave Jonathan.
"That's true, and also a lie," Magnus cocks his head to a side, as if pondering on how that's possible. "Wanna try again little angel?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Magnus," she answers, boldly.
"You know my name," he doesn't sound particularly surprised by that, then again he's pretty famous (and infamous) so…
"I do," She acquiesces. "You know mine too… even if you don't actually know it is mine."
"Does that mean I've met you before?"
"In a way."
"Are you intentionally trying to provoke me, or is that just a side-effect?"
"I'm trying to think on the best way to convince you that while I'm perfectly willing to tell you what you want to know, this might not be the best place for that conversation."
"The family isn't home."
"It's not just that." She makes a split decision. "I can help you Magnus, and you can help me. I swear I'll tell you the absolute truth, though I'm still not quite sure you'll believe me, or that you'll even want to…"
"If that's so, then we could just leave now…" He raises a hand, ready to conjure a portal.
"Not yet," Clary shakes her head. "There's a thing I need to do before… or maybe two."
"You know I cannot let you do them, right? I might not exactly like Jocelyn, but Dorothea does, and the little spitfire is an innocent, so I'll keep them safe."
"I'm not here to hurt them."
"Really? Then what are you going to do?"
"If I swear that what I want to do will hurt no one, will you let me do it? I cannot just explain what I'm doing, it's… complicated, and explaining will take more time than we should probably stay here. Still, like I said, I will tell you, just not here."
"You're being incredibly cooperative, for a value of it."
"I'm being fully cooperative, even if it doesn't seem like it right now. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I swear on my brother's life, that all I want is to protect those I love…"
Several seconds pass, and silence is the only response, until Clary stumbles, and just like that she realizes she can move again.
"You're an odd one, aren't you?" He asks quietly.
He's more than a little shocked. When she'd offered to take an oath about her intentions he expected her to swear on the Angel, it's what shadowhunters always do… then again, she did say she isn't a shadowhunter, didn't she? So he says nothing else, just following her to Jocelyn's bedroom, where he watches her pull loose a couple of floorboards, and by the way that she headed straight to that specific spot on the floor it's quite clear she knows what she's looking for. She pulls out a chest and, pushing some things to one side, pulls something outside of a pocket of her coat, and puts it in, making sure that the other things on the little chest end up over it. The warlock steps closer, enough to see that she just put in a lock of hair, of a very light red color. She replaces the top of the chest, revealing the letters carved on the wood: JC. He wants to ask what they mean, what any of it means, but he remembers her words, so he says nothing.
Clary returns the chest to the space under the floorboards, then the floorboards, patting them several times, over and around until there's no sign left that they were disturbed at all. After that she's back on her feet and walking out of the bedroom.
"Is that all?" Magnus asks, even more curious than before.
"Not yet." She answers evenly.
The next part… well, there's a reason why she refers to it in her head as the 'insane part of the plan', but considering that her last insane plan (using Asmodeus's castle as a way to lose Lilith and escape Edom) worked pretty well… She goes straight to her mom's study. And there they are. She wasn't entirely certain they'd be there, actually. She couldn't remember when exactly her mom gave Dot the tarot cards she'd painted. She only hoped… and it worked. Silently she pulls out from the inner pocket of her jacket a tarot card of her own: the Ace of Cups. She painted it herself earlier today, from memory, it's a perfect replica of the one her mother painted. She switches the two cards, slipping the one she knows holds the Mortal Cup inside her coat. Then she spins around to face Magnus.
"All ready?" He asks, brow arches, clearly curious about what's so special about that card.
"Yes," She nods with a bright smile.
"Well, lets go then." Magnus announces as he starts calling on a portal.
"Oh, we need to make a short-stop." Clary announces just before they cross the portal. "Need to pick up something."
She says it that way intentionally, both for Jonathan's safety and… she's honestly curious to see how Magnus might react…
xXx
The warlock's reaction in the end was much better than Clary could have ever hoped for. His shock, followed by fury (which he thankfully never got the chance to turn on the redhead, as he couldn't fail to see the way the boy threw himself at Clary), then came the horror, and finally the absolute compassion. It was that last part which Clary was counting on, in fact. She knew from the start that a warlock was her best shot at getting Jonathan the help he needed, and it wasn't even just about the healing (though that was certainly at the top of the list) but also, the future…
Jonathan listens very attentively as Magnus explains his plan for treating him. He won't be doing it all himself, as healing really isn't his specialty, but he'll be the one to start things, first of all draining all the Edomian essence still in the boy's body, which is part of what's making Clary's iratzes so weak. He's also informed that, to avoid him being in an excruciating amount of pain, he'll be unconscious for most of the 'treatment'.
"When you wake up you'll be brand new boy!" Magnus announces brightly.
"I…" Jonathan hesitates, turning to look at Clary.
"It's okay," She assures him, a hand on Jonathan's arm. "You can trust him. Magnus is one of the good guys, I promise you."
"Okay," Jonathan nods. "Will you… will you be here when I wake up?"
"I… Jonathan…" Clary has no idea how to answer that question, how to explain…
"You don't have to lie to me, you know?" The boy says softly, his eyes making him look much older than his 11 years of age.
"I don't want to lie to you," Clary admits quietly, though she doesn't know what he's referring to exactly, in that moment.
"I know you're not an angel," Jonathan explains.
"Oh…" Not the best response perhaps, but Clary doesn't really know what else to say.
"I prayed to the angels, begged them to save me many, many times, and they never came." The young boy explains softly. "You did."
"I did, yes." Clary agrees. "And you must know, if I could, I'd have come earlier."
"I know." The boy nods with a smile. "I trust you Kiara. You might not be one of Their Angels, but you're mine. My guardian angel…"
"That I am little one, I'll always be your guardian angel…" She embraces him softly, making sure not to put any pressure on his skin. "Always…"
"Do you really have to leave?" He asks, very, very softly.
"I do," She admits quietly. "It's not that I want to leave, I just… I don't belong here Jonathan. I came, because I just… I had to come, I had to save you. But I cannot stay…"
"Okay…" Life has taught him there's no point in denials, in begging. "Will you stay at least until I fall asleep."
"That I can do." Clary assures him, then an idea comes to her. "Hey, would you like me to tell you a story?"
"What kind of story?" He asks, though a part of him just wants to say yes.
"A very important story." She answers with a smile.
"Yes please!" He smiles at him brightly.
They're already in the room Magnus has arranged for his stay, so all Clary has to do is climb up on the bed, letting him curl against her, his head in her lap. He doesn't have any hair but still she runs her fingers very slightly over his head, in repetitive, soothing motions.
"So, story," Clary makes herself focus. "Once upon a time there was a young prince with a heart of gold…"
xXx
"Angel Raziel sent me."
"Raziel? Why?"
"He believes that if you'll listen to anyone, it's me. Those thousands of years ago, he gave Jonathan Shadowhunter each of his angelic runes for a specific purpose. Clary, the fact that you can create your own runes without Raziel's blessing… Well, he does not look kindly on that."
"But the runes I draw, Mom, they help people. They help Shadowhunters."
"That may be true, but you've been taking advantage of your gifts. You felt the angels' resistance, but you pushed through anyway. When you drew your Necromancy rune on Valentine, you broke a fundamental tenet. 'The dead shall stay dead.' And now, this Alliance rune, uniting Shadowhunters with demonic blood… And for Raziel, that was the last straw."
"I did it to save my friends' lives."
"I understand. Clary, your compassion is one of the many great traits about you. But the angels, they see it differently. They perceive you as disrupting the natural order."
"So… So they sent you here just to scold me?"
"No. No. They sent me to tell you not to draw another rune of your own ever again."
"What?!"
"If you do, as quick as they gave you your gifts, they will take them away."
"Really? Why? Because they don't like what I'm doing? Don't like that I'm helping people? And wait a second, if they can take my gifts away so easily, why don't they take away Jonathan's? Why didn't they take away Valentine's? This whole mess we're all embroiled in would have never happened if it weren't for them? So many people, shadowhunters and downworlders, would still be alive if Valentine and his Circle had been stopped years ago! How come the Angels didn't take away their gifts?"
"It's not that simple darling…"
"Why not? If they can… can threaten to take away my abilities, if they can actually do that. Why not theirs? What makes it so different? Is it… do the Angels actually agree with Valentine?!"
"Clarissa!"
"No mother! Is that it? That's what really angers them about my Alliance rune, you said it yourself, the fact that it allows those of angel and demon blood to bond… I cannot believe this! I… this cannot be happening."
"Clary. Clary! Listen to me, it's not that simple."
"Why not?! Tell me what's so different that they can threaten to take away what makes me who I am, but not them? Really, I don't see any other reason for them not to do it than them not wanting to. Than them actually believing the Circle is right!"
"It's not like that Clary. You need to understand. The Angels cannot easily interfere in the affairs of mortals. Free Will is a thing and…"
"And? You said they'll take my gifts! They don't seem too bothered about 'interfering in my affairs' so why won't they interfere with theirs?!"
"Because the Circle aren't under their purview!"
"They aren't… but that makes no sense… Unless… Free will is a thing… that's what you said. The ability to make our choices, to choose our own path…"
"Clary…"
"The ability to decide who we'll follow. Who we will allow to have authority over us. Like the Angels… or no one at all…"
"Clary… you need to calm down… stop and think."
"Oh but I am mother. Are you even my mother? Or are you just a construct they sent in an attempt to control me? I suppose it doesn't matter. What matters is that I am thinking, and for the first time in my life I'm actually seeing things clearly. We're nothing but pawns… little soldiers you, they, whichever, can play with, can discard when we stop being useful, or when we try to 'color outside the lines'. Except even Angels have rules they must follow. Like only being able to use us if we allow it. And guess what? I don't. Not anymore."
Green eyes snap open and it's only the weight in her lap, instincts born of months being on war footing and learning that when waking up in places unknown it's better to not give away you're awake until you can ascertain you're safe (or whether you need to come up swinging), that stops Clary from jack-knifing up in bed. In a handful of seconds she remembers where she is exactly, remembers Edom, Jonathan, Magnus and everything that's happened since she made the split decision to jump back in time and change everything… to do what, as a child, she always wanted to do yet never could… save her brother, her captive prince…
Falling asleep wasn't in the plans, but she supposes it matters very little. She knows that her dream wasn't that so much as a memory, one that draws her attention to her right forearm, to the empty spot where the angelic rune once was… the rune that made her an official shadowhunter, and which she struck off that day, after her conversation with… her mother, or whatever else might have been wearing her face, made her realize the truth. That was when she decided to stop playing by their rules and start writing her own.
She finds Magnus in his balcony, nursing a tumbler with something alcoholic.
"Clarissa Adele Fairchild…" He pronounces each name slowly, purposefully, eyes fixed straight on her. "Or do you prefer Morgenstern?"
"Neither, actually." That seems to throw him for a loop, so she clarifies. "Well gee! Lets see, the name of the psychotic genocidal father who has no respect for life, any life, not even that of his own children? Or the name of the mother who chose to betray and abandon everyone, who forsook her vows, who acted like if she could ignore the danger it'd magically go away? Who lied to me my whole life, and not just that, but she paid someone to mess with my head?! All while full knowing how bad an idea it was, that it might damage me permanently? I've no idea why you think I should want either of those names!"
"Point," Magnus admits after blinking several times and thinking it over. "Drink?"
"Sure, whatever you're having is fine." She says simply, a tumbler appearing in her hand a moment later, the first sip reveals it's a mix of strawberry, coconut milk and some very strong alcohol (maybe rum?), which she's quite certain is not what's in his own glass, but decides that doesn't really matter and keeps sipping. "Thanks."
"Who is he really?" Magnus asks eventually.
"Are you asking because you truly don't know, because you want confirmation of what you already know or because you think that what you suspect is too insane to be true?" She asks, though she's not actually expecting an answer. "You already heard me call him Jonathan."
"I did, but seeing how at least ten percent of shadowhunters in any given generation seem to have that name…" Magnus points out in a drawl.
"Point," Clary admits. "His name is Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern."
Magnus's lack of response tells him that he suspected that already, whether he might have wanted to believe it or not.
"Jocelyn told me her son was dead." He points out.
"She also claims her husband is dead, yet insists on living in hiding, pretending the whole of the Shadow World doesn't exist… tell me, who hides from a dead man?"
"Yeah, I thought that much. Doesn't explain about the kid."
"She abandoned him."
"What?!"
"It's the truth. Depending on how you look at it, and what you think of her mental and emotional states at the time. She either abandoned him to the flames she couldn't have known for sure had gotten to him already; or she abandoned him to the same husband she was fleeing from."
"Well, he certainly didn't die in a fire. And the burns on him aren't from any mundane, or even heavenly fire…"
"No, they're from demon-fire. He was in Edom. I got him out… yesterday? Or the day before? I've kind of lost track of the time."
"You went to Edom, to rescue him… why?"
"What do you mean why?! He's my brother!"
"I'm not accusing you princess, I'm just trying to understand… all of this."
"What's there to understand? Our father is a monster, who experimented not just on himself but also on other people, nephilim and downworlders, even unborn children, both his own and those of other Circle members. He gave my mother demon blood without her knowledge when she was pregnant with Jonathan. That's why… he's different. My mother's been afraid of him since he was a baby. I think that might be why she abandoned him. She was too much of a coward to even try to be his mother when he turned out not to be the perfect, normal nephilim child she expected. Like it was Jonathan's fault!"
"So he's… a nephilim with demon blood? Like Tessa?"
"Who's Tessa?"
"Tessa Gray, a friend of mine. She's a warlock, but her mother was a shadowhunter, one who never bore any runes. So she's a warlock, but she also has some shadowhunter blood."
"Never met her. The only warlocks I know are you, Dot, Ragnor Fell I met only once, Catarina Loss; Iris Rouse, though that did not go well, for either of us… oh, and Lorenzo Rey."
"Sounds… interesting. So… you know me very well then? In your time?"
"You mean, 'do I know that you're the one my mother paid to take my memories of the shadow world whenever I happen to discover it… again?' Yes, I know." She exhales at Magnus's wince. "I don't actually blame you. I know it was her decision, and while I'll never agree with it, will never like it, I know there was nothing you could do to change her mind. Though if you could do something for my… my other self… my younger self? I'd appreciate that a lot."
"Wait a second, how old are you?"
"Eighteen as of last August."
"And you don't have your memories back?"
"No… why?"
"I told Jocelyn that I'd be giving you your memories back when you were eighteen! She tried to fight me on it but I told her that it was already bad enough that we'd taken memories from you, repeatedly. That memories don't stand alone… It's all connected. Memories to thoughts, to beliefs, to instincts… you take one piece and it all comes tumbling. They were already affecting your development! I warned her, I… I never wanted to do it princess, you must know that, I… it wasn't fair to you. I knew that but…"
"But if it hadn't been you it'd have been someone else. And that someone might not have been as good, or as careful. I know Magnus." She smiles kindly at him. "I've told you, I don't blame you. I did at first, not gonna lie. But back then I didn't understand. My mother was taken the same day I turned eighteen, and that was the same night I first saw a group of shadowhunters going after Circle members… or well, the first time I can remember. Things went very insane very quickly. You tried to get me my memories back but… things went wrong with the spell, Valak almost got free, we had to kill it, and my memories got lost."
"I'm sorry princess…"
"Biscuit." At Magnus's confused look she clarifies. "It's what you used to call me. I… don't know why actually."
"Biscuit… I like it, it suits you."
They say nothing else for a little while. Magnus just refills both their drinks and they sit in companionable silence. At least until Clary winces for the fifth time in two minutes, makes an attempt to shift, only to wince yet again and drop back.
"Will you tell me what you're hiding with your glamour?" He finally asks her.
"It doesn't matter…" She begins.
"Biscuit, healing might not be my specialty, as I'm sure you know, but that doesn't mean I'm entirely useless at it. And even if I'm not enough I can always call Cat and…"
Clary exhales and drops the glamour, which makes Magnus trail off as he realizes just how much Clary has been hiding…
"There's nothing you can do." She tells him quietly. "It's too late."
He puts his glass down, standing from his chair and goes to her anyway. Though even before getting a closer look he knows she's right. It's… awful doesn't cover it. She took off her coat earlier, and once she lets her glamour down her real clothes and state are revealed. The blue ¾ sleeved blouse with the sleeves pulled up to her elbows has its left sleeve almost completely burnt off, as far as her shoulder blade; her skin too is burnt, red in some spots, black in others; and Magnus is sickeningly certain that the hint of white he can see on her back is her bone. The burns extend up to her neck, and even a bald spot behind her ear. Though perhaps the most horrifying detail of all is that she seems to be almost missing a part of her, just above her hip…
"What…? How…?" Magnus asks, beyond horrified.
"Lilith and her wraiths." Clary answers, more calmly than he believes she ought to be. "She really didn't want to let Jonathan go."
"I… I… I need to do something…" Magnus mutters, calling what magic he can to him.
"It's okay Magnus, I promise, I don't even feel the pain…" She assures him.
"That's not a good thing biscuit!"
"Magnus, Magnus, relax. I'm not dying."
"But you just said…!"
"I'm not dying, I'm disappearing."
He notices then, beyond her burns and other various injuries, it's true, her skin looks not just pale, but almost translucent in some parts. It's… strange, to say the least.
"It seems I've finally done enough, changed enough, that the world, the time I come from, it doesn't exist anymore." She says quietly.
"I… that's a good thing?" Magnus just wants to be sure.
"So good…" She smiles brightly. "You've no idea."
Magnus exhales, finally admitting that if it won't change anything, there's no point to trying.
"What can I do for you biscuit?" He asks quietly as he sits back in his chair, though pulling it closer to her.
"Will you look after my brother?" She asks softly. "I… I wish I could stay, could be with him. But I just… I can't. And the me from this time…" she shakes her head. "Maybe one day they'll get the chance to be together. To be siblings. I hope so…"
"Of course I'll take care of him!" Magnus hurries to reassure her. "And I'll take care of you, of the other you, too. I promise you, biscuit."
"Thank you…"
Her next blink last a bit too long, but right as she shifts once again, trying to find a more comfortable position, all while knowing how pointless it is, she remembers something else. With some effort she manages to slip a hand into the pocket of her shirt. Magnus watches her, and it, very closely. He's felt curiosity regarding that card ever since he watched her pull it out of the deck, and not just that, but having witnessed how planned it all was, to the point where she had a replica ready to switch one for the other. He knows it has to be important.
"There's one more thing," she murmurs, very, very quietly. "I'd like it if you could keep this…" she extends the card to him. "somewhere safe. Don't let anyone know where it is, don't even let anyone know you have it."
"Really…?"
"I'm serious Magnus. No one. Not Catarina, or Ragnor, or Raphael… not your… boyfriend…"
"I don't have a boyfriend biscuit,"
Clary blinks, then shakes her head. "Not the point. No one Magnus."
"Understood. No one. Now, will you tell me why all the cloak and dagger? What even is this card? Doesn't look that special…"
"It's not the card exactly, or not just that. The card is… you could compare it to a safe. It's what's inside it that really matters."
"Inside?" Magnus flips it this way and that, seeing nothing.
"It's a talent from the Fairchild family. The ability to turn objects into paintings, and the like…"
"Wait, wait a second! Turning objects into paintings?! You cannot tell me this is…"
"The Mortal Cup."
"The Mortal… Biscuit, are you sure you should be giving me this?"
"You're the only one I'd ever trust with it, Magnus."
"Shouldn't you give it to, well, the shadowhunters?"
Clary snorts. "Considering that most of them are either Circle members, children or spouses of such, or at the very least sympathetic to that bastard's cause? I'm very sure they're last people whom I'd give that card to."
She'd destroy it if she could, but since she can't, she'll do her best to ensure Valentine will never get his hands on it. It's not even just about Magnus. Only a Fairchild can even get the Cup out of that card. Also, if all goes well, the trace of angelic energy she infused into the decoy will last at least long enough for her mother to have no reason to suspect foul-play. Who knows? Maybe she might even believe it to be lost eventually. And if they all come to believe that… she can only hope it'll be enough.
Her thoughts stray, and as she tries and fails to raise her hand, to call Magnus's attention, she notices her right arm is almost completely transparent by now. And it's not just her arm…
"Mag… nus…" She calls haltingly.
"I promise biscuit, I'll keep it safe, and no one will so much as suspect I have it." He assures her.
"I… I trust you." It's all she can say anymore, but she hopes it'll be enough.
"Rest biscuit," Magnus says softly, carding a hand through her hair. "You've done great. It's time others take over. I promise, it will all be worth it…"
Yes, it would. He'd make sure of it.
Clary directs one last, beatific smile at him and then… she's gone.
So... what do you think?
I should point out (though it might be obvious already) that this is the start of a series. You might even call it a prelude-prologue of sorts. The story proper will be what happens in this new timeline the original Clary has created through the things she changed. I don't yet know how many parts this might end up having, nor how much of canon I'll end up touching, that's still up for debate. Ideas, suggestions, things you might like to see, would prefer for me to avoid, I'd like to know it all! Since I'm currently still working on this I'm very open to ideas.
As always, I give blanket permission to any and all who might be interested in making a sequel, prequel, sidestory, remix, translation, fanart, videofic, podfic, etc. Just remember to give credit where it might be do and let me know so I may go and see your work! (And so I can cheer you on and advertise your work as well).
See ya around!