Me: I am obsessed with the Circle era. I need all the content on it, seriously.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine!

Song that inspired this is Pictures Of You, by The Last Goodnight

Pictures of You (and Pictures of Me)

Isabelle coughed as dust billowed into her face. ''This is getting ridiculous,'' she said bitterly.

Ever since Robert Lightwood had been made Inquisitor, there had been the awkward business of the Clave 'returning' the Lightwood's things that had been in their mansion after their banishment. These things, instead of being returned to the mansion, were being shipped to the New York Institute, as apparently someone in the Clave's mailing department couldn't keep straight the Lightwood's change of address.

''Does the Clave have a mailing department?'' Clary asked as she dropped her box on the spare room's floor. This sent another cloud of dust in the air, making them all cough.

''If they do, it's not a very good one.'' Alec grimaced as he stacked some boxes in the corner. Maryse had been trying to organize the boxes as they arrived, but after box number 23 she had decided to just keep the overfill in a spare bedroom. She had gone to Idris that week and had declared before she left that she would not be coming back until she tracked down the idiot who kept sending the packages and made him stop.

Jace set the box he had just dragged up next to Clary's. ''Where were they keeping them?'' he mused, clapping his hands together like erasers to emphasize his point. Next to him, Clary coughed again.

''In a special little corner called disgrace,'' Isabelle said, kicking a box in annoyance. ''Probably have a whole cupboard dedicated to things from that era.''

''Yes, but is it a corner or cupboard?'' Jace asked, still brushing his hands. ''And why on earth does it not warrant a little dusting?''

Clary grabbed his hands before he could shake off more dust. ''A little?''

Isabelle sighed. ''Does it matter?'' she kicked her box again, this time sending it tipping over.

''Izzy!'' Alec yelled in annoyance.

Isabelle stared at the mess at her feet. ''Sorry.''

They all let out a sigh as they bent into the pile of dust to pick up the things that had fallen out of the box. There were books, chipped pieces of clay from once whole knick knacks, and random papers. ''This is a receipt from a restaurant,'' Jace announced upon inspecting a bit of paper. ''I don't know whether to wonder why the Clave would confiscate it, or why they wouldn't let you take it.''

''Great fries?'' Clary guessed. ''Didn't want to share?''

''It's not about what they took,'' Alec said, snatching the paper from Jace. ''It's about the fact that they took everything.''

There was a bitterness to his voice that made them all go silent. Alec had been very young when the Uprising took place, but it was clear from his tone he remembered the early years of their banishment.

Clary tried to distract herself from the sudden awkwardness by continuing to pick up the remains of the box. She frowned as she grabbed an object. ''Is this a camera?''

She was afraid she'd spoken too soon, but was relieved when all the Lightwoods shared her look of confusion. ''Looks like it,'' Alec admitted, frowning at the equipment. He took it from Clary.

''I didn't think Shadowhunters liked having much technology,'' Clary said, ''Especially in Idris.''

''We don't.'' Isabelle took the camera impatiently from her brother. ''Think it works?''

''It probably needs a cord or something,'' Jace said. He rummaged through the box, pulling out a black cable. ''This one?''

He handed it to Isabelle, who handed both objects to Clary. ''I hate cords,'' she frowned.

Clary, who had spent many hours with Simon fiddling and arguing over controller cables, quickly fitted it in. ''Just have to plug it in.''

''Fun!'' said Isabelle, a mischievous smile on her face. ''I wonder what adorable pictures of baby Alec will be on that camera.''

Alec reddened. ''You don't know if that's our camera.''

''It was in a box of things from our house, Alec. Whose camera would it be?''

''Perhaps someone just dropped it in your house,'' Jace said, nodding sensibly. ''Yes. And it got tucked away with everything else the people cleaned out.''

''Maybe it belonged to the people who cleaned out the house,'' Clary suggested.

''Maybe it belongs to the guy in the mailing department.''

''Yes! Poor guy lost it.''

''Well, perhaps if he cleaned up once in a while he would've found it.''

''Alright, enough.'' Alec waved his hand impatiently. ''Just plug the damn thing in so we can move on with our lives.''

Clary quickly ran to the library to plug the camera in before running back to help finish with the last of the boxes. The mess contained as much as they could get it, they eagerly traipsed to the library to inspect the camera.

They knelt on the floor, the cord being too short to reach the window seat. Clary turned the camera on with the Lightwoods peering over her shoulder. They all expected to find a couple a photos, and at first that is indeed what they found.

''That's Eliza Wayland,'' Alec announced, pointing to the woman in the photo. She was holding the camera out like a modern day selfie, smiling as the man behind her glared while smirking, as though she had said something he wanted to be angry about but couldn't. ''That's Michael Wayland.'' His voice trailed off a little. ''I remember now. She was sick. I guess that's why the camera.''

Shadowhunters weren't very sentimental types. It was very mundane of her, Clary thought, to buy a camera and capture the little time she had left with her family. But judging from the sly smirk of the woman in the photo, Eliza hadn't been much for caring what other people thought.

Clary clicked for the next photo to appear, and this one showed a little boy with wildly curling blond hair leaning against a wall, smiling at the camera. ''That's Jonathan Wayland,'' Alec said, a note of quiet in his voice. ''Their son. I guess this must be their camera.''

There was a tightness in Clary as she reflected this was the boy who burned at her mother's mansion, the boy whose bones Jocelyn had cried over. Slowly, she clicked the next button.

This picture was very similar to the last, but now the boy was joined by some other people. A little girl with braids grinned at his side, and Alec didn't need to point out who this was. It was Aline Pennhallow as a little girl. There were two other children in the photo, and in fact they all knew who each one was.

The boy immediately next to Jonathan Wayland was Alec. A small, baby faced Alec, with blue eyes that the digital photograph did no justice to. They would have teased and laughed about this if it weren't for the other boy in the photo, standing off a little ways to the group as if he was being photographed against his will.

He was leaning against the wall, his posture slumped but his face titled up at the photographer, looking very puzzled as to what this activity was supposed to be. He had hair that wasn't right to be described as blond, not next to Jonathan Wayland's yellow curls. It was stark white, and his eyes were large and black.

They all knew who they were looking at: Clary's demon brother, Jonathan Morgenstern.

Clary remembered her mother telling her how she and Maryse would sit together while their children played. It was strange to reflect on the fact that Alec and Jonathan, along with Aline and the boy who would soon die in Jonathan's place, were once apart of the same play group.

Clary must've been staring too hard at Jonathan. Jace gently put his hand on her shoulder as she shook herself. ''This must've been Eliza's camera then?'' she changed the subject. ''This must've been her and Michael's house?'' A thought occurred to her, making her turn sharply to Jace. ''The house you grew up in?''

Jace nodded, his gaze on the picture. ''That's right in the kitchen,'' he admitted. ''That wall is black now. Burnt toast.''

They all scoffed, shaking off the uneasy feeling they all had. It was strange to look at pictures like these. The events that would soon follow cast them in a whole different light. It was weird to think about Eliza Wayland taking these photos, taking them without thinking about how her husband and son would soon be dead and his playmates banished. Just as she was contemplating turning the camera off, Isabelle reached over Clary and pressed the next button.

This wasn't a photo. It was a video.

Whoever was holding the camera wasn't very experienced. They were holding it clumsily, causing the frame to shake and jump. Laughter was heard. ''Jonathan Wayland, turn that off!'' they all recognized the voice. Robert Lightwood.

Jonathan Wayland let out a laugh of his own as he darted into a living room. The camera showed on the floor a young girl around their age with two untidy blonde braids leaning against a sofa. On her lap sat little Alec, holding a book. Both looked past the camera at the little boy holding it.

The girl laughed. ''Where'd you get that?'' she asked.

''Mommy gave it to me.'' The camera dipped again as Jonathan Wayland adjusted it proudly. ''She said it is important to capture life's moments.''

''Sounds like her,'' came Robert's voice again. Jonathan Wayland turned to look at him. A younger, slightly less weary looking Robert was in the picture. ''Turn that off, Jonathan. I don't want that on in my house.''

''But why?'' the little boy asked innocently.

''Yes, Robert, why?'' the girl asked. Jonathan hastily returned his attention to her as she spoke. ''Are we insecure in front of the camera? Camera shy, as it were?'' Before Robert could reply, the girl frowned at the camera. ''Wait, that's not the same camera as…?''

Robert could be heard scoffing off screen. ''I believe it is, actually.''

''Oh!'' The girl clapped her hands excitedly, causing Alec in her lap to begin playing with her fingers. ''Oh! Please tell me Eliza still has it on there.''

Jonathan snapped back to Robert, who was now smiling. ''I don't think she will be giving that up,'' he said. ''Not when it makes such good blackmail material.''

The girl laughed. Baby Alec looked up at her and smiled. ''They spent a week after the wedding trying to track down that camera,'' the girl said.

''Yes.'' Robert looked past the camera and at Jonathan. ''Which, since they are coming here, I implore you, Jonathan, to turn that off.''

They could all hear the little boy sigh behind the camera. ''Okay.'' Robert nodded and walked away. Despite what he said, the little boy kept the camera on.

He walked over to the couch opposite the one the girl and Alec were leaning against, the camera in his lap so it focused on the other people. For a moment, the only action was Alec as he took some of his toys, placed them on the girl's head, and laughed when she shook them off while pretending to mad. She laughed nearly as much as he did.

A door opened somewhere off screen and both Alec and the girl turned to look as people entered the house. ''Hi, Jocelyn,'' the girl greeted with a smile. Her smile widened as another child traipsed slowly over to her. ''Hey, there's my buddy.''

If seeing child Jonathan Morgenstern in a picture was startling, seeing him in a video gave Clary all sorts of vertigo. His black eyes did not meet the girl's, but he sat down next to her and focused his attention on a book he had brought, running his hands over the textured lettering. The girl tousled his hair affectionally, still looking at Jocelyn as she entered the room and into the camera frame.

There was something about her mother that made her so unrecognizable to Clary. She wasn't sure if it was the set of her mouth or the hardness in her face, but whatever it was it made Clary's skin tingle. Jocelyn's gaze seemed to harden as she looked at Jonathan when he sat next to the girl on the floor and Alec, but nevertheless she smiled. It was only because she knew her mother that Clary knew the smile was fake. ''Hello, Cèline.''

Cèline. Cèline Herondale. The girl on the floor was Jace's mother.

Clary felt Jace stiffen next to her. She realized this must be the first time he was seeing her. She looked to him to see if he wanted to stop the video, but he was still watching the screen, watching as Jocelyn turned away from Cèline to look at the camera.

''Jonathan?'' Jonathan Morgenstern looked up quickly, clearly used to being the Jonathan Jocelyn was referring to. There was something in his blank face that struck Clary as very odd. ''What are you doing?''

Jonathan Wayland waved his hands, also waving the camera. ''Nothing. Just playing.''

''Is that a camera?'' Jocelyn's tone was sharp. But a flush rose to her cheeks as a thought occurred to her. ''Is that-''

''Quick, Jonathan, over here!'' Cèline said, gesturing with her hands for the camera.

Jonathan Wayland approached, cutting Jocelyn out of the picture as she said, ''I want to see that now!''

The camera centered on Cèline as Jonathan Wayland handed the camera over in a hurry. Both little boy and Cèline were laughing as Jocelyn continued to demand to see the camera. ''Never!'' said Cèline. ''Quick, Wayland, put it away! She can prove nothing!''

The laughter continued until the video ran out, freezing on the picture of smiling Cèline sitting surrounded by laughing Jonathan Wayland, giggling Alec, and a smirking Jonathan Morgenstern.

For a moment they were all quiet, staring at the picture of the people in the camera. All but Alec were dead.

Clary set the camera down in her lap. She turned to Jace hesitantly. ''You okay?'' she asked softly.

Jace raised an eyebrow at the question. ''Of course,'' he said. He took her hand and entwined his fingers in her's.

Clary look towards Isabelle and Alec. The older Lightwood looked very uncomfortable. Clary again reflected on how strange it all was. In the video, the people had been so familiar with each other. The way Jonathan Wayland had talked to Robert, how Alec sat nestled in Cèline's lap, how Cèline had greeted Jonathan and how he immediately sat next to her. It was the glimpse of a life that could have been. A life that was before everything fell apart.

Isabelle picked the camera off Clary's lap, fiddling with the buttons. ''That was interesting,'' she mused aloud. ''I wonder what video they were all referring to…''

Her finger went to click the next button, but Alec took the camera away. ''Just leave it,'' he stated. ''It's not ours.''

Isabelle let him take the camera. His tone made it clear he wanted no argument, and for once Isabelle didn't protest.

Alec got to his feet. ''I-I should clean up all that dust,'' he announced awkwardly. HIs fingers drummed the camera nervously. He left without further explanation.

Isabelle watched her brother go. ''I guess I'll help him.''

She went after him, leaving Clary and Jace alone on the library floor.

The room seemed too big and silent now. Clary looked to Jace and saw his expression was still thoughtful. ''You okay?'' She asked again.

Jace seemed to snap out of his thoughts. ''Yeah. Are you?''

Clary took a deep breath. She thought of the video, of Jonathan Christopher and that strange look on his face when her mother had spoken. Memories of her time with Sebastian in France wanted to resurface.

She shook herself and managed a smile. ''Of course,'' she lied.

''Pictures of you, pictures of me,

Remind us all of what we could have been.

Could have been.''

Me: Thank you for reading! Happy Writing!