Chapter 22: All That Matters

The living room in Lightwood Manor was far too ordinary after the horrors of that clearing. Clary sat on the couch, Moriah in her lap, feeling disjointed. Simon had fetched Magnus, and he and Alec went to deal with the bodies and Jonathan's injuries. It was better for him to be out of Idris.

Clary curled her fingers against Moriah's cheek. Since snatching her from the fight, Moriah kept her head against Clary's chest, leaning against her unmoving and unspeaking. Clary stared at the bruises on her arms, the open cuts on her. The dress Isabelle had put on her was now tattered and torn and stained with May's blood. Her little girl's eye began to swell from the bruise underneath it and her slumped posture made Clary wonder if her ribs were okay.

She was hurt. Shadowhunters, her own people, had hurt her little girl.

And Moriah said nothing. She didn't whine or whimper or cry. She just sat.

Clary just sat as well. They sat in the Lightwood's living room, letting the night get later and later. Jace knelt on the floor in front of them. He had a hand in Moriah's hair. ''We should take her upstairs,'' he said softly, not for the first time.

Clary knew he was right. They should take Moriah upstairs and get her cleaned up, treat her wounds. But every time she whispered as such to Moriah, she just shook her head. That was the only movement she made. At Jace's suggestion, she did it again. A single shake of the head. She just wanted to sit and be held and be safe. Clary didn't have the heart to deny her.

But then the doorbell rang.

Moriah flinched at the noise. Jace stroked her hair one more time before getting up to answer it. He opened the door and then Clary heard her mother's voice.

No. Clary was angry, and the anger was swirling inside of her like hot water ready to boil over. She wanted to scream and track down those Shadowhunters and make sure they paid for what they had done. They had done what they did because they were scared. Because their views were the same as Jocelyn had expressed the day Moriah was found. Despite the progress they had made, Clary couldn't handle looking at her mother right now. She just couldn't.

Jace must've had similar thoughts because Clary could hear him arguing with her mother. ''We have to go upstairs now, baby,'' she whispered to Moriah. Moriah again shook her head. ''I know. I'm sorry. But it's okay, I promise.'' She stood up, carefully adjusting Moriah in order to carry her better. Moriah gave a gasp of pain. ''I'm sorry. It's okay. I'm sorry.''

Clary cupped a hand on her head, holding her tight against her. She could feel Moriah tremble. In the foyer, Jocelyn continued to argue, no doubt wanting to know why she wasn't allowed in. Clary was grateful Jace understood without her saying anything.

She made for the staircase quickly, but unfortunately the stairs were visible from the entrance way. ''Clary!'' Jocelyn shouted. For a split second, Clary looked at her. She saw Jocelyn take in the appearance of her carrying Moriah's crumpled form and saw confusion flash across her face. ''What-''

''I'm busy.'' Clary's tone was flat, but she could feel the tears in her eyes. It was hatred and fear that led to those Shadowhunters attacking Moriah, and her mother shared those same feelings. It could've just as easily been her hitting and cutting Moriah. ''I'll talk to you later.''

''Clary!''

Clary hurried up the stairs. She went to her's and Jace's bedroom and closed the door behind her. She tightened her grip on Moriah, trying to control her uneven breaths. She couldn't stop the tears.

Moriah raised her head slowly. She looked at her mother, her expression devoid of any emotion. Her eye was almost completely swollen shut now.

Clary kissed her cheek. ''I'm sorry, baby,'' she repeated. ''I'm sorry. I love you. I'm so sorry.'' Moriah continued to stare. Clary brushed her hair back gently. ''Let's clean you up, okay?''

She took her into the bathroom. After sitting Moriah on the counter top, Clary ran warm water in the sink basin and took off Moriah's now ruined dress. She tossed it into the trash bin with disgust. Gently, she bathed her little girl's cuts and bruises, stopping to touch her sides and check her ribs. When she flinched, she knew her suspicion was correct. ''We'll get Magnus to look at you, okay?''

After she was done, she carefully untangled her hair, braiding it back loosely from her face. ''There,'' she said as she tied it off. She tilted Moriah's face up at her. ''A cold cloth for you eye, okay?''

She wet the cloth and pressed it against her eye. ''You hold that there. I'm going to get you a t-shirt.''

She exited the bathroom and went to the bags on the floor. As she dug through them, a horrible thought occurred to her. If we had left this morning, this wouldn't have happened. This thought was replaced with another one: What if they would have come anyway?

What if they come back?

Clary startled when the door opened. Jace closed it behind him. She swallowed hard. ''Is she gone?''

He nodded. ''Moriah?''

Clary held up the shirt she found as explanation. She went back to the bathroom and watched Moriah visibly relax as she reentered. ''Here, baby girl.''

Clary helped her shrug the t-shirt on, flicking her braid back down her back when she was finished. ''All done.'' She picked her up again, placing her on her hip. ''Let's go to bed now, okay?''

Moriah was still holding the cloth to her eye, but she laid her head on Clary's shoulder. Clary went to turn the light off before realizing with it off she wouldn't be able to see. She continued on her way to the bed, only to realize the lack of light wasn't keeping her from seeing. It was the water in her eyes.

Jace saw her face and came over, outstretching his arms to Moriah. ''Come here, Moriah.''

Moriah raised her head and went to him willingly, burying her face in his shoulder. Jace kissed her cheek and walked to the bed. ''That's my little warrior. Come on…''

As Jace sat down with her, Clary gratefully went back into the bathroom. She went to the sink- out of sight from Moriah- and let herself fall apart.

They hurt you. They hurt you and I wasn't there. I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry.

Alec rubbed a weary hand over his face as he entered his living room. He was startled for a moment to see Jonathan there, sitting on his couch, before remembering Magnus had taken him and Celeste back here. ''Hey.''

Jonathan gave a nod to acknowledge his presence. His hands were still cuffed, encircled with flames. ''You want those off?''

''That would be appreciated,'' Jonathan replied blandly.

Alec knelt in front of him and quickly removed the cuffs. When he finished, Jonathan rubbed his wrists. ''Thank you.''

Alec nodded. Other than the frankly ugly mixture of bruises and blood that was his face now, Jonathan didn't look terribly injured. He was about to ask if he wanted healing or blood replacement runes when Magnus emerged from the bedroom.

Jonathan's gaze passed over both of them. ''May and Fern?''

''Dead,'' Alec confirmed. ''I just settled getting the bodies taken care of.''

Jonathan took a breath. He looked at Magnus. ''And Celeste?''

Magnus sighed. ''She's lost a lot of blood,'' he admitted. ''So as of right now…''

Jonathan drummed his fingers against his wrist. He had that expression on his face that always gave Alec some dread, though now it was mixed with a look Alec thought might be shock. ''What happened exactly?'' Alec asked.

The corner of Jonathan's mouth twitched. ''Shadowhunters, such vigilantes. If the Clave weren't going to take care of the demon blooded people, well then why not team up with the creatures who would?''

''They were Shadowhunters and creatures from the Underworld?'' Magnus asked.

Jonathan nodded. ''Hence the getting revenge on those fairies.'' He inhaled slowly, still rubbing his wrists. He looked at Alec. ''I need to see Clary.''

''Yeah, going back to Idris right now is really not a good idea,'' Alec said.

''I need to see my sister.''

''I've no doubt she's coming home soon. Just stay here with Celeste.''

Jonathan gave an aggravated huff. ''Humans. Thinking hovering over their injured makes a difference.''

''Is that what you want to tell Clary? Hovering over her injured daughter is not helpful?''

''Stop it, both of you,'' Magnus chided. ''Alec, you have to get the boys anyway. Take him with you.''

Alec stared at him. ''You do know it's not a simple matter of letting him into Idris?''

''Extenuating circumstances.''

''Extenuating cir-'' Alec threw his hands up in the air. ''Honestly… Fine. Make more trouble.''

Jonathan got to his feet, turning what Alec expected was a grimace of pain into his signature sneer. ''My motto.''

Jace sat next to Moriah, running his fingers though her hair. Her braid had come undone, but she seemed to prefer it that way. She was awake, laying against him and staring off into space. She still had not made a sound. Jace was shaking from anger. I'm going to kill them. All of them. I failed you. Again, I failed. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Clary was sitting with them too, looking at Moriah with red eyes. She took a shuddering breath before meeting Jace's gaze. ''We have to go home.''

Jace looked at her, understanding her meaning. The Clave would no doubt admit the attack was wrong if they pushed the matter, but Jace had zero expectations that anything would be done. Even if they could prove Shadowhunters were involved, were the Clave really going to punish them? For what? Hunting demons?

That's all she is to them: a demon. Her, Celeste, and Jonathan. Nothing but demons.

Moriah curled up tighter against him. She needed to not be here. She shouldn't have had to suffer through this too.

Jace nodded at Clary. ''In the morning.''

She leaned her head against the headboard. Jace hated seeing her looking so weary. So tired and angry. He hated feeling that way too.

He continued stroking Moriah's hair. They would take her home and get her safe. That was the most important thing right now. Nothing else mattered. Not the Clave, not revenge, and not even what he had given Renage. Those things would be dealt with later. By the Angel I will deal with all those things.

Jace leaned forward and kissed Moriah's forehead. But right now, you're the priority. Always.

Jonathan stood in the upstairs hallway of Lightwood Manor as Alec went to get his kids. He glanced at Clary's and Jace's closed bedroom door. ''Clary?''

It took her a moment to respond. ''In a minute.''

True to her word, the door opened and she emerged, closing it softly behind her. She came over to him, looking as upset as she had the last time she was in his house. ''Hey.''

''How's Moriah?''

Clary took a shuddering breath. ''She- she should be okay.''

Jonathan nodded, leaving the unspoken clarifier physically in the air. Clary frowned at his face, standing on tip toe to touch one of the bruises on his cheek. ''Are you okay?''

''Yeah,'' he assured her. ''Just scratches mostly.''

She raised an eyebrow, no doubt taking in his stiff posture and any blood he still had on his face. ''I see that.'' She rested back on her feet again. ''How's Celeste?''

''Magnus says she's hanging in there.'' Clary nodded. She averted her gaze to her hands, twisting them together. There was nothing more to say on the matter of Celeste, so Jonathan changed the conversation from their dying friend to a potentially even more upsetting topic. ''You know Jocelyn is outside?''

''I know.'' The mention of her mother definitely made the hand wringing worse. ''I just… I can't face her right now.'' Jonathan held the silence, waiting for her to go on. ''She's afraid of Moriah. I know she''s trying, I know she doesn't want to be, but… but she is.'' Clary looked to the bedroom door.

''Her entire life- her entire short life- has been one painful experience after another. She was experimented on, stolen from us, found, only to be subjected to the Inquest and the demons and now this-'' her breath caught. ''I don't want her to suffer anymore. And that includes being around people who make her feel…wrong.''

Jonathan nodded. ''What are you going to do?''

''I don't know.'' She looked back at him. ''I just know I can't keep putting her in situations that hurt her.''

Her green eyes glinted, and Jonathan knew she meant what she said. Clary had reached her limit, and god held the soul who crossed her. ''Okay.''

The reason Jocelyn had come to the Manor so late was because she had heard about Renage escaping. She had come to make sure everything was alright, only to be greeted with the news that no, it was not alright. Moriah had been hurt. Moriah had been hurt and Clary didn't want Jocelyn near her.

Despite Maryse informing her of the situation and telling her it was better if she stayed away- and then getting nearly an identical speech from Jace- Jocelyn couldn't leave. Her daughter was inside, going through something horrible, and she wanted to be there for her. But Clary didn't want her.

This is my fault. I told Jia to accept Renage's deal. I'm sorry, Clary. I'm sorry, Moriah.

She paced on the porch before chiding herself for being pointless and starting back home on the path. She made it ten yards before turning around again. Pointless though lurking outside was, leaving was impossible.

When she reached the porch again and began walking around it, she realized it was no longer empty. She froze at the sight of Jonathan, sitting on the railing. ''Oh,'' she exclaimed, noticing his bruised face. She shook herself. ''Sorry. I'll just-'' She turned around again.

''You know what was the hardest part?'' Jonathan said suddenly. Jocelyn faced him, surprised he was speaking to her. ''Of you leaving, you know what was the hardest part?''

Startled at the conversation, she shook her head. ''What?''

Jonathan stared at her, his green eyes making her go cold inside. ''The day he told me you weren't dead,'' he said. ''The day he said the reason you left, that you left because of me. It- it hurt. It hurt in a way that I couldn't get past. So I made a decision. I decided that when it came to you, I wouldn't feel anything. Nothing good, nothing bad. I would feel nothing.'' He rubbed his wrists. ''And that is one of the many reasons why you and I will never be any different. Because when it comes to you, I can't feel anything. Not because I'm inherently evil or because I'm a demon, but because I decided a long time ago, for survival's sake, to not feel anything in regards to you.''

Jocelyn bit the inside of her cheek. ''So?''

''You are forcing Clary to make that same decision.'' He gestured to the house. ''One thing we can agree on is neither of us want Clary to resemble me in the slightest. But the way you feel about Moriah is backing her into a corner. A corner where she will choose between you, and the answer will not be you.''

''I never wanted-''

''It doesn't matter what you want!'' He yelled at her. ''Or what you feel! Or what you meant! What matters is your child needs you and so if that means you have to lie between your teeth for the rest of your life for her then you do it because you are in the wrong. Otherwise you will lose her. And while if you force her hand she will cut you out of her life with no problem, it will break her. I don't want Clary broken. She doesn't deserve that.''

He leaned back against the railing, satisfied with his piece. ''Just don't break her,'' he concluded. It was almost a plea.

Jocelyn stared at him. The way he spoke- he was speaking from experience. He didn't want Clary to go through what he went through. What she put him through.

There was this small window of opportunity here to say her own piece. Here on this porch, with just him and her, like it had been so many times before trudging home to Fairchild Manor. A chance for her to finally say words that came so many years too late. ''You need to know…'' she faltered, that part inside of her that so desperately didn't want to be hurt urging her to not speak. ''There was not a day that went by that I didn't think of you.''

He scoffed. ''It's true,'' Jocelyn went on. ''I was living two lives; Reality, where it was me and Clary against the world, and another life, where- where it should've been three. A family of three.

''I'm not a person who believes in regrets, Jonathan. I think every decision that is made must be made with the knowledge you have at the time and that regret and second thoughts are pointless. But you need to know-'' her voice caught. ''You're my one regret. And not in the way I told you in the Demon Realms. But in that I didn't screw every goddamned reason I gave myself for not looking for you, for not going back, for not doing everything and anything I could to find you. And I'm- I'm sorry.''

Jonathan looked at her, his gaze hard and betraying none of the thoughts in his head. None of the emotions. For a brief second, she wondered if he would reply. Reply with something that would mean…something. But all he said was, ''Don't make the same mistake with Clary.''

The moment between them, the window, was closed. Jocelyn inhaled sharply. She nodded in agreement.

No one slept, Moriah least of all. Clary laid with Jace and her in the silence of the bedroom, listening. First Simon returned with Max and Isabelle, and Alec updated them on what had happened, though Simon had told them on the way. Then Alec left, taking Jonathan and the boys with him. Finally Robert and Maryse returned, and Clary listened as Isabelle repeated the story Alec gave.

She could hear the reactions of them all. The gasps, the anger, the horror. But no disbelief. No. One only had to comb through the memories of the whispers and glances of the Accords Hall to realize the writing had been on the wall for this.

It's not fair.

Nothing about this was fair. Looking at her little girl's battered body beside her kept reiterating that point to Clary. Moriah should not have been hurt. Moriah should not have had to keep getting so goddamned hurt. She should be able to be happy like she had been that afternoon, playing and laughing with her cousins and sleeping peacefully with no worries. She shouldn't be lying in complete silence like she was now, staring off into space and not doubt hearing the conversations that were being had downstairs, to remember and replay in her head forever.

She will remember this forever.

Her little girl had perfect memory. No matter how many years passed, Moriah would remember this night. Remember getting snatched away by cloaked figures, just as she had been when she was a baby. She would remember being dragged to that clearing, seeing Celeste and Jonathan and May and Fern already there. She would remember any words those people had spoken to her, any names they called her, any threats they levied. She would remember when the fighting started and remember the feeling of May shielding her with her body, dying in her place. Never would she forget.

She was too young for that. And yet…

Clary laid on her side, holding her hand as Moriah leaned against Jace. Moriah didn't meet her eyes. She just blinked at the wall behind Clary, looking a million miles away. Maybe she was a million miles away. A million miles in her own head, far away from what had happened here tonight.

The night got later and later. Still they all stayed awake, even as the rest of the house went to their separate rooms. Clary thought they found some rest until she identified a noise she was hearing as Max crying in his room.

Clary had to dig her nails into her palm. At least we were wrong in Naranth, she thought to herself. They care. The Lightwoods care. They don't hate her. They love her and feel this too. We aren't alone.

I'm alone…

The thought of her mother made Clary ache. How much had her feeling towards Moriah actually changed? Did they change out of love for her, or love for Clary? Is this how she acted when Jonathan was little? Pretending her feelings changed so Valentine wouldn't know? Did he lay awake wondering her true feelings like I am now?

Clary shook the thoughts from her head. Any comparison to Valentine was best avoided. She pulled herself up slowly, looking at her family. Moriah didn't react to her movement at all. Clary met Jace's gaze, who was watching her with a questioning look. ''Let's go home.''

He glanced at Moriah, still as ever. He nodded. ''Let's go home.''

Clary got up quickly and retrieved their bag, slinging it over her shoulder. Jace made sure to gather all Moriah's toys and hand them to her before scooping her up. ''We're going to leave now,'' he told her. Moriah's only response was to tighten her grip on her toys, making sure not to drop them.

Jace scribbled a note to everyone about their whereabouts and placed it on the side table while Clary drew the portal. She made it quickly, realizing when she lowered her hand that her grip on the stele was so tight her knuckles were white.

Without a word they went through, not casting the place that gave them more bad memories than good a second glance. Now they were in the familiar halls of the Institute. Maybe it was hopeful thinking, but Clary thought Moriah seemed to relax upon the realization they had left the Manor.

They walked to Jace's room, though it was probably more accurate to say their room now. The quietness from the lack of people and light made the Institute feel very eerie. It was a feeling that did not sit right with Clary's current disposition.

They reached the door and Clary opened it quickly. It was better than ever to see the familiar looking room, furnished with the still relatively new bed they had gotten during that three week period when Clary was recovering and they could pretend the Inquest and the impending questions were far off.

Clary placed the bag gently on the floor and followed Jace to the bed. Soon they were all sat as they had been not twenty minutes earlier miles away in Idris, but the change of location made all the difference. As she moved closer to Jace and Moriah, she pondered how it could be considered humorous that they had replaced the twin sized bed that had been in the room for a queen, only to still lay practically on top of each other. Yes, it would be funny if the very idea of not being in the same room as them didn't send stabs of panic through her.

Jace made sure to cover Moriah with the blanket. She held her three toys close to her face, and her eyes were only half open now. Clary stroked her hair back and kissed her cheek. ''You go to sleep now, okay baby?''

Moriah still made no response. Clary wearily laid her head down, bitting her tongue to keep herself from crying. Jace reached across Moriah for her hand. ''She'll be okay,'' he said in a whisper.

Clary closed her eyes. ''Yeah,'' she replied, wishing it would be true. ''I know.''

They laid in the quietness of the room, pretending to sleep.

Disclaimer: Guess who owns NOTHING

Me: Thank you to all who reviewed last chapter! I hope you enjoyed this one!

Happy Writing!