Me: I wrote this a long time ago. I love the Circle era, Jonathan and Jocelyn- just everything. If you feel the same, I hope you will enjoy this.
Note: This story takes place after my other fan fiction, History Repeats Itself. It is not necessary to have read that to understand this.
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
…
Miseries and Memories
….
Jocelyn missed camping.
Since moving to New York, she had denied herself the pleasure that it was to sit outside and be entirely alone. City life had made that an easy thing to do, and she had succeeded in avoiding any temptation to that regard until Luke came back into her life and invited her and Clary and Simon up to his farmhouse.
The farmhouse wasn't exactly the same as the woods in Idris, but the country air did give her that same sense of freedom. She wondered if Luke thought the same, and if that was why he bought it. When she wandered away from the house and stood with her back to it, looking over the lake- well, it was as close as she figured she would ever get to being back in her home country. That is, until everything that happened…
Life was so different now. Clary was living at the Institute with her boyfriend and daughter, a full time Shadowhunter. It was mind boggling at how she had ended up in the very lifestyle Jocelyn had desperately tried to hide her from. It made her want to laugh. Or cry. Jocelyn's life too was different. She was married again, and though Luke was no longer a pack leader, he was still a werewolf and had an obligation to his kind, often helping Maia out every now and again. And if the Institute or Clary every needed help, Jocelyn wouldn't say no.
Maybe it was this realization of the Shadow World being irrevocably back in her life again that made Jocelyn feel ready and deserving of camping. Sure, it would not be like it was in Idris, but that same feeling of being alone in the world, the kind of alone that made you feel so small and yet so special…maybe she was deserving of it again.
So she said goodbye to Luke and went off for a few days, driving away from the city and looking for the kind of adventure that would make her feel like herself. Of course, memories wanted to pop in her head. Memories of the times she had been a younger woman, in a car with fellow warriors who wanted to change the world. Who could've too, if they hadn't been busy being so damn sarcastic.
Camping hadn't been something Jocelyn did often alone. She might've started out alone, but sooner or later someone(s) would find her.
''How do you expect us to get on without our fearless leader?'' Stephen had whined once, sitting down next to her.
''I came out here to be alone.''
''Fun.'' Mayrse grabbed the bag of marshmallows from her. ''We'll be alone with you.''
Jocelyn shoved her memories down and drove faster.
She found a nice spot far away from civilization. For two days it was bliss. Her and the quiet of the world. Of course her mind wandered to the past as it so often did these days, but the memories were almost comforting. Almost.
But everything must end. She supposed that was why she stumbled across the nest of Helm Demons.
A large cluster of them, right in-between the rocks of the mountain terrain. Jocelyn watched them from her perch lazily, swinging her stele at her belt. She had her knife and seraph blades. She could easily take care of them. Helm Demons were more a nuisance than anything else. So she did.
That battle high feeling was wonderful, sometimes too wonderful. Jocelyn doubted there was any mundane recreational drug out there that could give you a better feeling. She dispatched the demons in record time, feeling once again like she were twenty years old and head of her class. When the last one dissipated into dust at her feet, she nearly laughed. Until she heard the screech.
She just had time to duck before a huge black shadow swept over her, sounding like a prehistoric dinosaur. She looked up to watch as the black thing flew away, it's wingspan easily 20 ft, tip to tip.
''Well damn it all to hell.''
Jocelyn knew that voice. It was a voice more terrible to her than the screech of that demon had been. She turned quickly, unable to keep the shock off her face.
Jonathan Christopher was standing on a ledge a few feet above her. He looked in the direction the demon had gone before setting his hard gaze on her. His green eyes were identical to Clary's save for the sparkle. She doubted Jonathan had the emotional capacity to feel something so deeply that it shone through his eyes. ''You ruined my bait.''
Jocelyn stared. ''What?''
''My bait,'' Jonathan repeated, gesturing to the now empty nest of the Helm Demons. ''Kon Demons eat Helm Demons. It was supposed to kill the Helms, and then I would kill the Kon.''
Jocelyn was confused. ''You wanted the Helm Demons here?''
''Yes.''
''Why?''
''I thought I just explained that.'' He stepped off the ledge, so suddenly and without warning that Jocelyn flinched. But he landed effortlessly on the ground, looking hardly winded. ''Why are you here?''
There was something about the tone of his voice that made Jocelyn's instincts be defensive. ''That isn't any of your business.''
He cocked his head at her, his expression vague yet his eyes hard. Jocelyn felt that cold feeling pricking at her heart. No matter how much time passed, no matter Clary's love for him, she would always long to be away from him.
Jonathan shrugged suddenly. ''Fine.'' He looked back where the demon had gone. ''I do hope you are going. That Kon Demon is my prey.''
''I have no interested in hunting.''
''Then why are my Helm Demons dead?''
''You sound as if you summoned them.'' The corner of him mouth twitched. ''Oh my god, you did summon them?''
''I don't see how that's your business.''
''It's illegal.''
He laughed. ''You, talking about legalities. Now that is humorous.''
Anger mixed with the cold feeling in her chest. Jocelyn pushed it down. ''You know what, forget it. Do want you want.''
''I always do.''
''I'm leaving.''
''Glad to hear it.''
Jocelyn turned on her heel, wanting nothing more now than to trek back to her car and drive far, far away from anywhere he was. She had went a few paces when Jonathan added, ''Clary was worried.''
She stopped and turned again. ''What?''
''When she heard you went on-'' he gestured around, ''- whatever this little thing of your's is, she was worried. You might want to talk to her.''
''I told her I was going out.''
Jonathan shrugged. ''You get quiet, she gets worried. Thinks you are mad at her.''
''Why?''
''How should I know?''
''I'm not mad at her.''
''Tell her that, then.''
''Why are you telling me this?''
He shrugged. And then without another word, hopped back on the rocks from which he came. ''Jonathan!''
He disappeared from sight.
Jocelyn felt very deflated. Clary was worried she was upset. She supposed given their relationship the past few months it was understandable. Jocelyn did have a track record of being upset and disappearing to cool off. She'd see Clary as soon as possible when she got back, maybe take her and Moriah out somewhere.
Jocelyn started back the way she had come. It would take her a good half day to get back to her car. She'd spend the night driving. That would get her home fast.
The sounds of nature that had been so familiar upon the start of her adventure now faded to the background as she thought over her interaction with Jonathan. She hated speaking to him, and hated that she hated speaking to him. He hated her in the same way, she knew that. Looking at him and talking to him made her feel as if there were some dam in her chest, and each word was a drop of water filling the dam until eventually it would overflow and all the things she was holding back would come flooding out. And then she would be empty. Hollow.
No matter how long he was back, no matter how much Clary loved him and even everyone else in the Institute grew to trust him, Jocelyn knew he and her would never be different. Hadn't he said as much back at Moriah's Inquest? And truth was, she didn't want things to be different. It was too hard.
But they still had this connection between them, this one ledge of understanding. Clary. When it came to Clary, even Jocelyn had to admit Jonathan was almost…human. The way he had spoken just now, bringing up the worry Clary had mentioned about Jocelyn to him, interfering so that she'd know Clary was worried. He hadn't wanted to speak to her further, she knew that. And yet he did. For Clary.
Jocelyn trudged along slowly. It was for Clary she didn't allow herself to dwell on Jonathan and all the ways he could still ruin their lives. She figured it was for Clary Jonathan had similar reservations about her.
…
Dusk was falling as Jocelyn walked. She realized she must've come further than she thought, and that she would not reach her car until much later. She debated making camp when she heard it again: that screech.
She ran towards it, running to the ledge of the cliff she was on and looking down. There was the Kon Demon, screeching and crying as it slowly dissolved into nothing but dust. But at it's feet…
Jocelyn wasted no time slipping down the rocky ledge, getting her seraph blades out. Those were Crisk Demons. They looked like Kons, only smaller. And they could be very, very deadly.
She clashed with one, taking it by surprise and quickly getting rid of it. It's mate came and took a slash at her, and she had to roll awkwardly to get out of it's way. Crisk demons carried poison in their claws. Getting hit by one was not recommended, even when you weren't in the middle of nowhere with no supplies and no way of procuring an antidote.
''Behind you!'' Jonathan shouted from somewhere to her right. Jocelyn quickly turned just in time to wretch her blade into the Crisk Demon's mouth.
She didn't know how long they fought, battling the Crisks. But eventually they were through, the moon now high in the sky. For a moment they did nothing but lean against the rocky cliffs, catching their breaths.
Jocelyn looked over a few feet away to where Jonathan was. ''Tell me you didn't summon those.''
He sneered, looking so much like his father it nearly made Jocelyn gasp. ''I'm not an idiot. The Kon summoned them. Apparently it felt it needed backup.''
''Hmm.'' Jocelyn was about to look away when she saw the expression on his face flicker. She noticed his left arm was wrapped around his stomach. Suspicion rose up in her. ''Are you alright?''
He raised an eyebrow at her. ''What?''
''Did one of the demons get you?''
''I do believe I just said I wasn't an idiot.''
''What's with your arm?''
''Nothing.'' He lowered it to his side. ''Sprained it. Stop asking.''
Irritation rose up in Jocelyn. ''Fine.'' She glanced at the dark sky. It was far too late to try and make her way to her car now. ''I'm leaving.''
Just as she was considering if she was supposed to check and see if he would make it home alright, he pushed himself up from the rocks. ''Lovely. Good night.''
Jocelyn watched him begin to walk away. ''You're welcome,'' she mumbled under her breath. She forgot however, about his keen hearing.
''I had it in hand.''
Sure you did, she thought to herself. She waited by the rocks until she could no longer make out his silvery outline in the moonlight.
…
Jocelyn managed to find a cave to sleep in. She slept near the opening, and soon the first rays of daylight streamed in and on her face. She rose swiftly, eager to start home.
Her eagerness turned to worry when she stepped out of the cave and sensed the air. Rain was coming, very likely a storm. The wind whipping around suggested it would be a big one.
She walked quickly, unease picking at her senses and making her feel rushed. The atmosphere was as if she were being watched. Distractedly, she kept looking over her shoulder to ensure this was not the case. This led to her not watching her step, and caused her to trip over a root. ''Oh, crap.''
She managed to catch herself before falling on her face, but paused before continuing on her way. What was that puddle at her feet? She bent down and peered at it. It was red. She stuck her finger in it and studied it closer. Red and warm. Blood.
Unease continued to pick at her, but now it wasn't from the storm. It might not be his, she told herself. It could be from an animal. Just as she was about to turn away from the ground, her eye caught something stuck to a branch. She grabbed it. Black fabric. Black fabric from gear.
Hell. ''Jonathan?'' Jocelyn called. She walked a few paces and turned in a circle. ''Jonathan!''
There was no response. Can't he make portals? She thought fleetingly. Though now that she thought about it, she wasn't sure if he had even had his stele when she saw him. You're bleeding in the woods and can't go any further. What do you look for?
Some sort of shelter. She turned in the clearing again. Her eyes fell on the path to her left, the trees more denser together than the others.
She headed that way, calling and searching. She found two more puddles of blood, each one looking fresh. Thunder rumbled in the sky. Just as the rain was beginning to fall and Jocelyn was wondering if she should retrace her steps, she found him, sitting with his back against a tree trunk and hiding between the overhanging branches of the tree.
He raised an eyebrow at her as she moved the branches away to crouch in front of him. ''Why are you still here?'' He said, his tone- however shaky- sounding mildly inquiring.
''Walking in the rain. One of my favorite past times.'' She sighed at the complete pallor of his face and his hunched over posture. ''Where did it get you?''
Jonathan inhaled and tried to hide a cough. ''Where did what what?''
''Don't be stupid.'' She made to grab his arm that was wrapped around him, but he brushed her off. ''Where did the Crisk demon get you?''
He glared at her and she glared right back. He sighed. ''My side.''
''Can you walk?''
He shook his head. ''Crisk poison…it's meant to paralyze their enemies. My left leg won't move.''
''How's your right?''
''Fine, but I've never been one for hopping around on one foot.''
''How about three?'' He blinked at her. Jocelyn straightened up.
''Give me your hands.''
His eyes flashing in suspicion, he obeyed. Jocelyn ignored the icicle feeling that rose up in her again and grasped his hands. She helped him to his feet and steadied him. She slung his arm around her neck, the feeling worse than the cold rain coming down. ''Come on.''
She could feel the tension in his body. ''Where to?'' He asked through gritted teeth.
Jocelyn wanted to say her car, but another clap of thunder made her realize that wasn't an option. ''There's a cave not too far back. We can wait the storm out there.'' He made no reply, which let Jocelyn know he was as enthusiastic about that idea as she was.
…
It took some maneuvering to get Jonathan into the low opening of the cave. He couldn't move his left leg at all. Eventually they got inside and Jocelyn helped him to sit down against the back wall.
His face was whiter than his hair and his eyes were glassy with pain. Crisk Demon poison was bad, Jocelyn knew, but it was thankfully a slower acting poison. Jonathan would be alright until they could make it back home in the morning. Unless they could get there sooner. ''Can you make a portal?''
Jonathan gave her a funny look, as if he had forgotten she was there. ''Portal?''
''With the stele,'' Jocelyn clarified. ''Are you able to do that?''
He took a shaky breath. ''I don't have a stele.''
''Use mine. Can you?''
''I- I didn't take your stele.''
''I didn't say you did.'' Jocelyn watched him lean his head back against the wall, and realized even if he could make a portal, there was no guarantee he could focus enough to make one to go to New York. ''Never mind. It's not important.''
''I didn't take it,'' Jonathan muttered again. ''Just 'cause I hid it last time doesn't mean I did it again.''
Jocelyn sat herself on the left side wall and pulled her knees to her chest, watching him. His eyes were only half open, and he was staring aimlessly ahead. Jocelyn thought he might've fallen asleep until he suddenly spoke again, ''She doesn't like the rain.''
''Who doesn't?'' She asked.
''She said 'went for a walk, one of my favorite past times' but it isn't.''
''Jonathan.'' Jocelyn felt a little alarmed at his slow tone of voice. ''I said that.'' He looked at her, blinking. ''Remember?''
He took a breath as if collecting himself. ''I know that.''
''Who am I?''
He raised his eyebrow once again. ''I know who you are.''
''Really? Because you didn't five seconds ago.''
''Stop.'' He turned away from her and tried to adjust the position of his right leg. The movement must of caused him pain, because he winced.
''Are you alright?''
''Fine.'' He turned his head so he wasn't facing her. ''Wake me when the storm passes.''
Jocelyn watched him for a few moments before looking out the opening of the cave. The rain fell in torrents and thunder flashed and crashed in the sky. It was going to be a long wait.
…
It was Jonathan who woke Jocelyn.
As she slept, Jocelyn listened to the sounds of the storm outside. But another noise awakened her, one it took her a minute to place. It wasn't until she sat up with a start and looked around did she realize what it was. Crying.
Jonathan had fallen on his side and was curled up, breathing heavily and crying. Jocelyn went to him and he didn't so much as look at her. ''Jonathan? Jonathan?''
She touched his shoulder and realized his shirt was soaked with sweat, as was his face. ''No,'' he breathed, shaking her off. He was rocking from side to side. ''No. No. You can't. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I won't.''
''Jonathan,'' Jocelyn tried to get his attention again. ''It's me. Remember? We're in the cave?''
Jonathan clearly didn't hear her. He let out another sob. ''You can't. I won't do it again. I'm sorry.''
Jocelyn had a bitter taste in her mouth. She wondered what he was seeing, and yet feared knowing. She studied his face, that horrible pallor still there, and saw his lips were turning blue. Blue? That wasn't indicative of Crisk poisoning. ''Jonathan, where did you get hit?''
Jonathan just continued to mutter. ''Was it your side?'' Jocelyn remembered how he had stood after the battle, with his left arm around his stomach. He was curled up on his left side. ''Jonathan, I need you to sit up, okay?''
She went around the other side of him, sitting down so his back was to her. She put her arm under his head. His entire body stiffened. ''It's okay. It's me.''
She managed to pull him up, but then he suddenly recoiled from her, falling back on his heels. He stared at her, his expression full of terror. ''Jonathan, please, I need to see your wound.''
He was shaking his head. ''Please don't, please don't do it.''
''Jonathan, I just-''
He continued to cry. ''Don't burn it down. Don't burn the house down just don't.''
Jocelyn's breath caught. ''I- I'm not-''
He leaned heavily on his hands. ''I didn't do anything. I didn't do anything.'' He broke down, hanging his head. ''Please…please…Cèline.''
Jocelyn had to bite her tongue. All these years, and that particular time…
She watched as Jonathan continued to sob, whatever fever he had taking away all his defenses. ''Shh,'' she whispered, forcing herself to touch his hand. ''Shh. It's okay. It's okay.''
He made to pull away but she gabbed him with her other hand. ''You need to stop, okay? Let me look at your wound. I need to see, okay?''
''I want to go home,'' he choked out. ''Let- let me go home.''
Jocelyn nodded. ''Okay. Okay, we'll go home.'' She pulled him close. ''We'll go home.''
He fell against her, the heat from his body almost as bad as his coldness had once been. His body twitched as he muttered. ''Shh. It's okay. You're okay.''
''Cèline…I want Cèline.''
A lump rose in Jocelyn's throat. Images of Cèline, how she always wrapped her arms around Jonathan from behind to kiss his cheek, how he would go to her with an expression that was almost happiness, how horrified she had looked that night on the Garden Path. ''I know.''
At that vague promise, he seemed to relax a little. Jocelyn waited a few moments before shifting him to lay on his side again, this time on his right. ''I just need to see. Relax, okay?''
He laid still aside from his twitching. Jocelyn rolled his shirt hem up, going slowly when she realized it was sticking to his skin. She lifted it up and saw his side, right under his rib cage. Her breath caught.
That is not from a Crisk demon.
The wound was much too deep and much too wide to be made from the thin little claws of a Crisk. It was pure black with purple edges to it. The skin around the wound seemed to be taking on a sort of grey color.
''You got hit by the Kon Demon.'' Jocelyn stared at Jonathan's twitching form with horror. ''The Kon.'' Kon Demon poisoning was much different from Crisk demon poisoning in that it was faster and overall, just deadlier. ''You idiot.''
Jonathan whimpered. His eyes were closed. ''I'm sorry, father. I'm sorry.'' Jocelyn just stared as more tears fell on his face. ''I'm sorry. I'm sorry.''
Some pieces of Jocelyn's heart seemed to be breaking apart. ''I'm sorry,'' she said to him, leaning over him and running her hand through his hair. ''I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry.''
Jonathan didn't seemed to have heard. He curled up on himself tighter, flinching from her touch. ''I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Please don't send me down there! Please!''
Jocelyn did not know where 'down there' was, only that she had yet another item on her list of reasons why she hated Valentine. And herself, too. ''Jonathan, it's okay. He- he's not here. Valentine isn't here. He can't hurt you.''
Jonathan just sobbed louder, his cries nearly a scream. Her hands shaking, Jocelyn drew out her stele. She pressed the tip to his arm, only for him to wretch away in panic. ''No! No!''
''Jonathan, please.''
''I can't! I can't! Don't!''
''Jonathan-''
''Don't kill me! Don't!''
''I'm not-''
''I can't go back to Hell! I can't!''
Jocelyn put down her stele and just grabbed him, holding him against her tight and refusing to let go. He sobbed and screamed and tired to get free, but still she clung to him, her heart pounding in her chest.
I did this to you. Valentine and I…we gave you these demons. I should've gone back for you. I should've looked for you. I'm sorry, my baby. My baby boy, I am so, so sorry.
Jonathan cried himself into exhaustion. He went slack against her, his body trembling from involuntary gasps for breath.
Being very careful, Jocelyn adjusted him so she could grab her stele. His eyes were barely open, so she wasn't sure if he saw her begin to put a peace run and healing rune on his forearm. She knew the healing rune would do nothing for the poison, but maybe it would at least give him some strength to make it to her car.
Jonathan gave another gasp for breath when the peace rune began to take effect, from relief rather than pain. His eyes slid shut all the way as he let out a sound that was little more than a whimper.
Jocelyn laid her stele down and pulled him closer. She gently touched his face. ''It's okay,'' she whispered, her voice barely audible. She realized she was crying too. ''Nothing's going to hurt you anymore. It's okay…''
…
The storm didn't pass until late afternoon. Even when it did, rain continued to fall from the sky and the wind blew all the drops from the leaves of the trees. The sun was shinning however, so Jocelyn knew the sunny showers would eventually pass. In any case, it was safe to walk through now.
Jonathan's peace rune had worn off mostly. He was awake, but not really…awake. His face was still pale save for his cheeks, which were now flush with fever. He didn't speak, either from embarrassment or because he wasn't really aware of his surroundings. Jocelyn was favoring the latter.
She managed to get him to his feet. His left leg seemed to be paralyzed no longer, but it was clear he could not walk on his own. ''We just have to make it a little ways,'' she promised him, hoping that were true. She slung his arm over her neck again. ''C'mon, lean on me.''
They set off awkwardly. He was slightly taller than her, but his wound was causing him to hunch over a bit. Carefully they made their way across the slippery paths, the rain and fallen leaves making everything slick. Several times they had to navigate around large branches in their way, knocked down by the storm.
Jocelyn couldn't have been more relieved to have seen her car, parked and uncrushed by a tree right where she left it. ''Hallelujah,'' she muttered.
Jonathan grabbed the car for support as she grabbed her keys from her belt. Soon it was unlocked and she held open the back door. She had rented a jeep for her trip after denying Luke's offer of using his truck. She was glad she had, for the jeep had more room in the backseat for Jonathan to lay across the bench, which he did without hesitation. Jocelyn closed the door.
She went around to the driver's side and soon was on the highway, back to the city. They would be at Magnus' before nightfall. He would have the cure for the poison without a doubt.
''St-st-stele-e'
Jocelyn jumped. She glanced in her rearview mirror at Jonathan, sitting up on his elbows and staring at her. ''What?''
''I nee-d,'' he stammered, ''I- I need your- your st-el-e.''
Jocelyn reached for it and handed it back without taking her eyes of the road. Something inside of her chided her for handing him a potential weapon. ''Why?''
He was already pressing the point to his skin. ''B-blood re-replacem-ent.''
''Did you lose that much?''
She heard him inhale sharply. ''Not cause of- of -that.''
She didn't understand what he meant, but she didn't press. He finished it quickly and placed her stele in the back pocket of her seat. He took another sharp breath. She met his gaze in the mirror. As pale and deathly looking as a ghost. ''Thank you.''
He laid down again before she could respond, and didn't move until they were back in New York, looking for a place to park close to Magnus' building.
…
Jonathan couldn't have put his exhaustion into words. Several times he felt aware enough to attempt to open his eyes or speak to the people he heard close by, and yet found he didn't have the strength upon execution. He knew Clary was here, for it was her who would tell him to be still when he moved, or shushed him when he couldn't help but cry out. He would drift back into unawareness with her next to him, her hand in his.
This time though he felt he had enough strength to succeed. Or, if not, to at least push through. God, stupid human weakness. He would not be dictated by the demands of this prison flesh.
Jonathan slowly opened his eyes- succeeding, this time- only to close them again because of the light. ''What, are you people blind or something? Or just trying to blind me?''
His voice was weak and croaky, but Magnus still understood it. ''I believe the phrase you are looking for is 'thank you, oh great warlock, for taking pity on my miserable self and saving me from Death's door'.''
''I'm multilingual. Things get lost in translation.'' He heard a switch go off and opened his eyes again, relieved to find it much dimmer than it had been. ''And I highly suspect it wasn't pity so much as my sister's whining.''
Magnus nodded. ''She can be very annoying.''
''I'm touched,'' Jonathan heard Clary say from his left. He struggled to sit up on his elbows. He met her gaze. ''What were you thinking?''
Jonathan had to catch his breath from his movement. ''What was I thinking when?''
''When you went off on that insane hunt.''
Jonathan frowned for a minute. He was about to respond when another presence in the room made him pause. ''Oh, there's the punk.''
''Hmmm.'' Moriah ran over and threw herself on the bed, scrambling up with speed and sitting back on her heels. She blinked at Jonathan slowly with her big, black eyes. ''Hmmm.''
''Moriah,'' Clary scolded. ''I told you to wait in the living room.''
Moriah continued to blink at Jonathan. He tousled her hair. ''Sorry, you were saying?''
''Your hunt,'' Magnus repeated for Clary. ''Why were you on that hunt alone?''
Jonathan cocked his head at them. ''Hunt…?''
''You don't remember?'' Clary asked incredulously.
''I remember getting ready to go on a hunt,'' Jonathan admitted. ''I don't remember the details… what was I hunting?''
''A Kon Demon, according to mom.''
''Your mother? Why would she know?''
''Because she's the one who found you.''
Jonathan was surprised. ''Found me? Found me where?''
''On your hunt.''
''Hunt for what?''
''For-''
''As entertaining as this is,'' Magnus interjected, ''I don't think it's going to lead anywhere.''
Jonathan frowned. He wasn't used to having gaps in his memory. He remembered everything, always. ''Why is that?''
''Side effect of Kon Demon poison. On the off chance their prey gets away, well, it wouldn't want you coming back to it's cave armed, would it?''
''Interesting.'' Jonathan's head ached. He tried to ignore it. ''So, I want on a hunt and Jocelyn helped me?''
Clary shrugged. ''She said she found you hurt.''
''And she didn't just leave me there to die?''
Clary glared. ''Not funny.''
''I wasn't being funny.'' Clary didn't respond. Jonathan guessed it was because she understood his point and was possibly just as surprised as he was.
Magnus began walking out of the room with a sigh. ''Well, happy to save your ass from the brink of death. I'll be sure to send you a bill. Note that I do not take health insurance.''
''I would think less of you if you did.'' Magnus walked out, the door closing behind him.
Moriah began to hum to herself. She sat so her legs were dangling over the edge of the bed, her feet kicking. Clary smiled at her and picked her up. ''Jace is coming to take her home. I'll be back in a minute.''
''You don't have to stay. I'll be leaving soon.''
Clary scoffed. ''Yeah, as soon as the color returns to your face.''
''I will have you know I have a naturally pale complexion.''
''There's pale, off white, and then really off white. You are somewhere between really off white and transparent.''
''An Irish ghost?''
''You got the ghost part right.'' She leaned over and kissed his cheek. ''Happy to have you back, brother dear.''
''Nice to be here.'' She left then, Moriah peering at him over her mother's shoulder.
Jonathan sighed as the door closed. He really did want to leave, as no doubt Alec would want him to if he were even home. He laid back down only for a moment, fully intending to get up and go, yet the pain in his head refused to be ignored. He was back asleep even before Clary reentered after handing Moriah off to Jace.
…
Jocelyn only intended to pay Magnus what she owed. She had gotten a few scrapes from the Helm Demons, and he had handed her a salve for them. He took the money without comment, inclining his head to the doors down the hall. ''Your daughter is in there.''
''Okay.'' He disappeared down the other hall then.
Jocelyn hesitated for a moment before deciding if she wanted to speak with Clary, now was as fine time to do it as any. She walked down the hall. Maybe Jonathan wasn't even there anymore, since Magnus hadn't mentioned him…
The door wasn't closed fully, so Jocelyn simply pushed it open. The sight inside made her pause.
Clary was indeed here, as was Jonathan too. Both of them were asleep, Jonathan under a blanket and Clary laying on top. Clary was curled on her side, clasping Jonathan's hand. Jonathan had his head tilted, leaning against Clary's.
For a second, seeing them there, Jocelyn had this brief glimpse into a life that could've been. Brother and sister, forever and always, never apart. Both of them safe. Both of them happy.
But it hadn't happened that way. And that was partly her fault.
Jocelyn walked out of the room, making sure the door clicked quietly shut behind her. She remembered what she had told Jonathan back in Idris, how she didn't believe in regrets, but he- he was her one regret. She didn't think she had ever felt it as strongly as she did in this moment right now.
…
Me: I'm a sucker for whump. Thank you for reading! If you have a moment, please leave a review!
Happy Writing!
