"It all makes sense now." Jonathan said in an enlightened voice, staring across the room at Jace. Jace smiled and exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.
"You have no idea how relieved I am that you understa-"
"You're just suicidal." Jace gave him an incredulous look.
"What? No-"
"No, no it does make sense. It has too. Because that's the only explanation I can come up with." Jonathan said as he walked away from the door towards Jace. "You want to rise up against Valentine Morgenstern… the most feared Shadowhunter of the age, the man who taught us both how to kill demons with their own body parts and bones…and what's even better is that you want me to join you in your little Kamikaze mission …"
Jonathan's voice had taken on a low, mocking tone as his eyes darkened to fathomless pits. He was now standing in front of Jace, who, sensing the underlying threat in his brother's posture had slipped back to the edge of the bed, eyes watching him warily.
Jonathan reached languidly down into his boot and was now grasping the handle of his favorite butterfly knife, and Jace had made no move to stop him because of how calmly he had done it. Jace only heard the metal of the knife as it flipped open; the flash of his brother's wrist was too fast for his eyes to follow.
Jonathan's eyes bore into Jace's with a deadly seriousness as he pressed the point of his knife into the flesh of his little brother's throat.
"If you wanted to die so badly Jace, you should have just told me."
Jace's eyes flicked down at his brother's steady hand. What had happened? He had sworn that he had just had Jonathan a little bit convinced…maybe he just needed a little provoking.
Oh that's always a good plan…Jace thought acidly. Taunt the known killer that has you at knife point…see how well that plays out… But he had never been a boy that had much patience for caution and thinking things through…
Jace leaned his hands back behind him on the bed as he cocked his head to the side and smiled up at his brother, suddenly the poster boy for complete ease. Jace couldn't help but smile more at the confused frown that crossed Jonathan's face at Jace's complete lack of fear of him. Jace felt his eyes darken with cruel humor as he stared up at Jonathan.
"You know, it's okay that you're afraid of him big bro," Jonathan's eyes widened in angry disbelief. Jace bit back a laugh as he leaned forward, scraping his throat against the knife as he whispered, "Don't worry, it'll be our little secret." Jonathan seemed stunned speechless.
Jace pursed his lips thoughtfully before continuing, wondering how far he would have to push Jonathan, or how far Jonathan would let Jace push him.
"See, you might be content with being Father's little lapdog bitch your whole life but not me-"
Jace had barely got the words out before Jonathan reached out and grabbed his shoulder tightly as he pressed the razor edge of the knife harder against his windpipe, using the grip he had on his shoulder as leverage in case he decided to silence the little prick for good…
"Shut up. Say one more thing and you won't need to worry about Valentine at all. The only thing you'll need to worry about is how you're gunna manage to talk back with slit vocal chords." Jonathan whispered through his clenched teeth.
Well that didn't take much….Jace thought. However, he hooded his eyes as a grin as sharp as the blade pressed into his throat pulled at his mouth.
"You sure talk a mean game for someone so whipped and pathetic. Father really broke the mold with you."
Jonathan's arm twitched, hard, as he visibly restrained himself from ripping the knife across Jace's throat. As it was, Jace still felt the stinging burn of the blade as it bit down into his skin and managed to suppress a wince at the pain.
"Come on, Killer. Let's see if you've really got it in you. Shut me up for good. You know you want to..." Jace taunted recklessly. Jonathan's eyes widened as he felt the darkness start to creep up at Jace's thoughtless provocation.
"Stop. Jace stop."
"Why? Cause you know Daddy will hate you forever if you kill his favorite soldier? We both know I always was his favorite…"
The blade slipped a few inches across his throat and Jace clenched his teeth to keep from gasping in surprise. What was even more surprising was the look in Jonathan's eyes.
"I said stop, Jace I can't-"
Jace reached up and grabbed his brother's wrist, pressing the blade harder against his throat, hoping that he wasn't wrong about the panic he had just seen in his brother's eyes.
"Why not? Why can't you do it? I'll finally be out of your way Jonathan, just like you've always wanted." Jace half yelled at him.
Jonathan blinked hard as his vision started to blur and the dark voice rang in his ears, louder than it had been that morning he had almost killed Jasper. Do it….He wants it he wants to die and you know it! Be merciful….be his brother…give him what he wants Jonathan!
"NO!" Jonathan yelled as he wrenched Jace's hand off his wrist and yanked the knife away before he didn't have control over it anymore.
"Why? Why won't you do it?" Jace yelled back at him.
"Because you're my brother you insane little fuck!"
Jace exhaled a breath that came out sounding like the quietest of gasps; it was the first time Jonathan had ever called him his brother in a way that wasn't mean or mocking…although, calling him an insane little fuck was hardly a term of endearment. Nonetheless, it had proven that Jace really had gotten through to him.
"Then help me. Help me, help us."
Jace couldn't believe how close he was to begging him. Jonathan suddenly looked exhausted. He closed his knife and slipped it back in his boot before tiredly running his fingers through his hair as Jace wiped the trickle of blood from his neck.
"What's the point… And there is no 'us'. Being brothers doesn't mean we're actually brothers, Jace. You know that just as well as I do. It's too late." Jonathan said with finality as he walked away to the door. With his hand on the knob, he stopped and said over his shoulder, "Just…make sure you remember to eat."
Jace stared at his back and just as he opened the door he said quietly, knowing that Jonathan would hear anyways,
"We can still be brothers, Jonathan. And I bet it wouldn't be as hard as we're thinking it would be." Jonathan couldn't stop the disbelieving scoff at his words.
"Right." he said as he shut the heavy metal door behind him and locked Jace in with a despairing finality.
"Jonathan, come in here a moment."
Jonathan pushed open the door of his father's study and entered the room, surprised to feel the sudden sting of hatred for the broad shouldered man that had his back to him from across the room. Goddamn you, Jace.
"Yes, Father?"
Jonathan stopped in the center of the room and crossed his hands behind his back, wishing he was upstairs asleep. That was no good…lately the dreams had been increasingly worse. Soon he would have to tell Valentine or he wouldn't sleep at all.
Valentine turned to him, his blacker than pitch eyes seeming to shoot through him like a bullet. Jonathan stood still under his searching gaze, so tired from his unexpected talk with Jace that he didn't look away when Valentine's identical eyes met his own, like he usually did. Valentine frowned.
"What's wrong, Jonathan?" Jonathan raised his eyebrows a little.
"Nothing, sir. Why?" Valentine cocked his head and studied him.
"You seem…distant. Unfocused." Jonathan shrugged.
"My head hurts a little to be honest." Valentine walked over to his desk and reached into the top drawer for his stele.
"Come here." Jonathan waved away his concern.
"I'm fine it's not that bad."
"I insist." Jonathan went over to stand next to him, knowing that there was no point in arguing.
Valentine brushed aside the blonde hair at his eldest son's right temple and lightly applied the iratze rune, noticing with pride that Jonathan didn't flinch as he did. When it was finished, Valentine placed his stele back on his desk.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. Your brother always gives me headaches too." Valentine said in an overly light tone. Jonathan met his stare. Valentine's eyes shined in a way that instantly made Jonathan want to leave the room.
His father always gave the impression of knowing everything…and so far he hadn't given Jonathan any reason to doubt that ability. Jonathan looked away after a few seconds and Valentine studied his expression carefully.
His son was purposely keeping his expression blank but his posture was tense, so he was nervous about something. Valentine clenched his jaw in irritation; Jonathan was nervous about something that had to do with Jace. Valentine sighed and leaned a hip on the edge of his big oak desk.
"So what did your darling little brother say to you, Jonathan?"
Jonathan looked up and was caught in the steel trap of those shiny eyes. He dropped one shoulder in a shrug before reaching out and running his fingers along the edge of the desk in a nonchalant gesture.
"Oh just the same, 'You're such a mindless minion follower and I'm better than you' bit. You know the usual Angel Boy taunts." Jonathan said with a sneer. Why was he protecting him?
Valentine veiled his eyes and stared at him. He had almost had him convinced with his slightly annoyed but indifferent tone.
Valentine let the silence drag on oppressively, knowing that Jonathan could feel it like a heavy presence weighing down on him. He could sense the boy's growing unease and just as Jonathan's fingers began to fidget, Valentine said in a low voice,
"You're sure that's how the conversation went?"
Jonathan's eyes widened fractionally, but it was enough. Valentine sighed and pushed up off his desk. He clasped his hands behind his back and began to walk in a leisurely half circle behind Jonathan, who was forcing down the sudden trepidation that was making his lungs ache.
"Because it seemed to me, the last mood Jace was in was a kind of… mutinous, turn your enemy into an ally and rise up against the commander kind of mood." Jonathan swallowed as his father stopped just behind his shoulder and leaned down to his ear.
"I think he thinks that two small weapons fired at one really large weapon stand a chance of creating change…"
These words paired with the quiet and deadly tone of his voice left Jonathan believing that his father was mere seconds from driving a blade through his back and into his heart; just to ensure that Jonathan never turned on him the way Jace had.
And if Valentine wanted to kill him, what could Jonathan really do to stop him? Sure, Jonathan was probably the best Shadowhunter his age and could do things that had grown Shadowhunters agape with disbelief…but he was no match for the man who had trained him to be the Nephilim he was.
His father could snap his neck in the second in took him to just make the decision to reach down for the knife in his boot… and these panicked but truthful thoughts did nothing to slow Jonathan's racing pulse.
Valentine could see it, pounding away like the rapid flutters of a frightened bird's wings beneath the pale skin of his throat. And that was what Jonathan was sometimes…a little frightened bird; trying to fly with no direction and because of that he was very easy to misguide…
"What do you think?" Valentine asked him in a chillingly soft voice. It took Jonathan a moment to find his own voice.
"I think he's predestined to burn." Valentine's smile was like that of a skull's.
"Good answer."
Jonathan felt a rush of relief that was almost painful.
"However…I know how, persuasive your brother can be."
Valentine walked around to face him, dropping his threatening demeanor in favor for a parentally confiding one. Valentine flicked a knowing glance at his son before going across the room to the bar. He pulled out two heavy glass cups and splashed amber liquor in both before beckoning Jonathan over with a nod of his head.
Jonathan slid his glass off the bar and took a sip, remembering the time he and Jace had drank together in this very spot. 'We can still be brothers, Jonathan. And I bet it wouldn't be as hard as we're thinking it would be…'
Jonathan forced Jace's voice away as Valentine turned to him with a fatherly look.
"You and I have always known that Jace is…different from us." Valentine now looked sadly thoughtful. "He doesn't think the same as we do, doesn't have the same values…he's separate. I've tried to get him to be more like you and I but…" he trailed off with a despairing note. "Some things have to be taught with force."
Jonathan looked up from his glass. Valentine stared back at him. "Now…Jace probably tried to convince you to believe certain untruths about me. I'm sure he said that I'm nothing but a heartless dictator and that I don't care for the two of you." he paused, pouring more alcohol into his glass.
Jonathan waited, not realizing that his fingers were gripping his own cup so tightly the crystal was leaving a grooved indented pattern in his palm.
Valentine's black eyes held the glittering sheen of oil as he said, "But I assure you, nothing could be farther from the truth."
Mistrust for the man next to him flared up inside him so strongly Jonathan had to quickly down the rest of his drink as a distraction to keep from instinctively moving away from his father the way that his body was telling him to. Valentine smirked and set his now empty glass back down on the bar before walking around it to the mirror set in the wall behind it. "Come here." Jonathan set his cup down and went reluctantly to his side.
"Look at us, Jonathan."
Jonathan looked at the two men in the mirror, wondering what it was that his father wanted him to see. After a few seconds, Valentine spoke again in a voice that captured Jonathan in a slow reverie.
"You and I…we're the same. Two halves of a whole. The similarities aren't just on the outside, we don't just have the same features; the same face the same eyes…we match inside as well. You are my son, in all the ways that matter most, Jonathan. And Jace…he sees this. He's poisonous. He wants you to believe that you mean nothing to me. He'll get into your mind and corrupt it because he'll do whatever it takes to destroy our family. Don't let him."
His last words were spoken like a command, his voice loosing the persuasive softness, and Jonathan snapped out of the trance like state. Jonathan blinked a few times as Valentine turned away from the mirror.
"I'm glad we had that talk. It was long overdue."
Jonathan watched his father cross the room to his desk and pull out a bottle of viscous, purple tinged fluid. He set it on his desk before looking up at Jonathan, who was eyeing the contents of the bottle warily.
"I think he's had enough time to reflect on his behavior don't you?" Jonathan tore his eyes away from the bottle.
"What?"
"Your brother. Go collect him and take him down to the cellar. It's time." Jonathan walked around the bar to the desk, rubbing the fingertips of his left hand together nervously.
"Father?"
"Hm?"
"I was just thinking…well is this necessary?" Valentine's eyes flicked up from the desktop. Jonathan faltered. "I mean, couldn't it be dangerous for him?"
Valentine's eyes gleamed with a sinister and threatening light as he raised his face up slowly from the contents on his desk.
"I didn't realize you cared." he said softly.
The ventricles of Jonathan's heart felt like they had become twisted around each other like a tangled plate of pasta.
"I don't." Valentine cocked an eyebrow. Jonathan shrugged.
"I just wouldn't want you to be minus a soldier." A ghost of a smile played at Valentine's mouth.
"Don't worry. We'll take the necessary precautions." Valentine said as he looked back down at the assortment of objects he had taken from the Downworlder piece of filth, Feltman. "Your brother won't suffer anything permanent."
Valentine held up a bone handled dagger that curved to a wicked point at the tip and looked at it thoughtfully before the specter smile returned to his mouth.
"Unless you're counting an attitude change."
