Simon
Jace doesn't look at Simon when he speaks. "Look. Love is different for Shadowhunters. We only love once and when we do, it's everything. So when I tell you there is no one else-'' His head lifts from the weapons he's put away to meet Simon's eyes. "There will never be anyone else. There can't be."
Simon asks Izzy about it later that night. "Is it true? The whole Shadowhunters-only-loving-once thing?"
She nods, shuffles closer to trace a pattern on his arm. "We're still human, we have emotions and urges and stuff. But the Angelic part of us, it's pure. It means that when we love someone, it's forever."
"So. . . is it predestined? This thing?"
"No, it's not like that. We have a choice, it just means that that choice is, you know, it."
"So, are we- am I-" His voice comes out tight and shaky.
She smirks. "You are the only person besides my family and Clary who has ever seen me without makeup. You think I'd let just anyone see that?"
He laughs. "I love you, too."
As he kisses her, he avoids the obvious questions.
What happens to a Shadowhunter when their one love is gone?
How does Jace come back from this?
Jace
He knows he shouldn't go to her art show, but he also knows he couldn't stop himself if he tried. Regardless of whether she has her memories or not, she's Clary. The love of his life. And if this is all he gets for the rest of his life, stolen moments watching her while her eyes skate past his glamoured face, then he'll take it.
But her eyes don't skate past this time. This time, she looks directly at him and talks. He finds himself running out of the gallery, but when she follows him, yells at him, he knows he's helpless.
She says his name, and it is the best thing he has ever heard. She touches his neck and it is the best thing he has ever felt.
They begin talking in that alley. Jace couldn't tell you what about. He is too busy looking into her bright eyes and trying not to melt at her touch. She moves her hand from his neck. He feels the absence like an ache.
A woman sticks her head out of the door of the gallery and calls out Clary's name. Clary turns back to face him. "Sorry, I have to go finish up." Her head tilts as she continues to stare at him. "I cannot for the life of me remember where I know you from."
He's asking the question before he can stop himself. "Do you wanna have dinner with me tomorrow?"
She smiles, a bit of surprise on her face. She's clearly trying to figure him out, but she hasn't yet. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. Here, let me give you my number."
They meet at a little Chinese place near her school. He's told Izzy and Simon that he's taking the night off, something they both encourage. He knows why; he's seen the pitying expressions when they think he isn't looking.
The dumplings are nowhere near as good as the Jade Wolf's, but the conversation is good and the company is better. Jace can't help but smile at the tiny dagger pendant on Clary's necklace, and the switchblade he sees tucked in her purse. Clearly, you can take the girl out of the Shadowhunters, but you can't take the Shadowhunter out of the girl.
Jace tells Clary about his adopted family, his life as a 'martial arts instructor' and 'security guard'. "My favourite student's an idiot, but I have to admit he's not as bad as he used to be," he chuckles. Clary leans her body towards him in the small booth. When she smiles, he feels like he's won the lottery.
In return, she tells him about her life. When he asks about her family, not because he wants to but because he knows she's expecting it, her gaze leaves his for the first time all night. "I don't have any," she says. "I lost a year. Don't know what happened. When I woke up, I found out that my mom was dead. My stepfather and best friend, too. Car accident."
"Oh Clary, I'm sorry."
"It's fine. I mean, it's not, but I've moved on. Or I'm trying to, at least." Her eyes flit to the ring on the chain around his neck. "You must know something about that."
He picks it up absently. "Yeah, I do."
He offers to walk her home. "What a gentleman," she says sarcastically, but agrees anyway. Judging by her switchblade, it's a great act of trust. She takes his arm while they walk and leads him up a rickety staircase to her apartment. It's tiny, like every apartment in Brookyln. But there's beauty in it, too. Moonlight streams through a high window by her bed, and an easel sits in the corner with an unfinished painting on it. He knows, even if she doesn't, that it's of Alicante. Glasslike spires reach towards the night sky, surrounded by an abstract forest. She catches him staring at it. "I still have no idea why I painted that one," she says, moving to stand beside him. "But I feel like it needs light, right here." She points at one corner of the painting, where Lake Lyn would be.
He has a sudden memory of waking up, Raziel's angelic light fading as Clary collapsed beside him.
He realises he hasn't responded to her. "Well, either way, it's beautiful."
"Thanks." She smiles wryly, and he is reminded suddenly of why this is a terrible idea.
He has lost her twice already.
If she dies because of him, he doesn't think he'll survive it.
So he takes a step back. "It's getting late, I should go."
Her face falls a little, but she recovers quickly. "Okay. Goodnight, Jace."
He takes one last look at her before he leaves her apartment. "Goodnight, Clary."
Clary is getting ready for class the next morning when she feels an icy burn on her wrist. She looks in numb shock as a mark appears, lit up like a flame before fading to black. The design is familiar. Her fingers itch to draw it.
Jace. She needs to call Jace. She doesn't know why, but she needs to.
"Hello?"
"Something's- I don't- there's this thing on my wrist-"
"Hey, relax, everything's gonna be fine. Where are you?"
He arrives less than ten minutes later. Clary is standing in the middle of her living room, a dazed expression on her face. For a second, he forgets why he's here, because her feet are bare and her makeup is only halfway done and it reminds him of so many times he sat on her bed, watching her get ready.
But he remembers quickly, because while he's staring at her he notices her wrist.
Her wrist, where the angelic power Mark sits.
Her eyes meet his. "Jace?"
He reaches for her, but before he can say anything, a blinding light fills the room.
My children, Ithuriel says. Do not be afraid.
"What-" Jace begins to say. Clary looks like she might faint.
Clarissa Fairchild. Raziel has taken from you the angelic power with which you have been blessed. But his is not the only angelic blood that runs through your veins. He is not the one who has given you your gifts.
"Lilith killed you," Clary murmurs. "I saw it."
Jace is too in awe to realise that she remembers this.
She merely returned me to Heaven. I recovered, but by that time Raziel had already punished you. His pride overtook his duty to the Nephilim. You did not deserve that.
He turns to Jace. Nor you, Jace Herondale. He dips his head, something that might be a smile on his benevolent face. I heard your prayers. Indeed, you were correct. Your love is stronger than Raziel's spite. Ithuriel reaches out a hand to draw a Mark on Clary's forehead that glows gold for a second before disappearing. This is the Mark of Ithuriel. As long as you shall live, Clarissa Fairchild, no angel may harm you. You are under my protection. I return to you your memories and your gifts, as a Nephilim and as my blood. Be well, my child.
With that, he disappears, returning the room to its dim state.
It takes Jace a second to realise that Clary has fallen to her knees. Marks appear on her skin in flashes of gold. Once the final one returns, the iratze on her neck, she stands. She lifts her head to look at him. "Jace." She puts a hand to his cheek. Tears fill her eyes. "Jace," she says again. She presses a kiss, soft and firm and everything in between, to his lips.
There are no words.
None, except 'I love you'.
Jace leans his forehead against hers and takes his first full breath in a year. It feels like coming home..
She blinks, takes a step back. "Wait a minute. Luke, and Simon- they're not dead?"
He shakes his head. "Luke's been fully reinstated as a Shadowhunter, and Simon is one of our Downworlder agents."
"Sorry, Downworlder what?"
He chuckles. "There's a lot to catch you up on. Why don't I take you to the Institute and tell you everything."
She lets out a long breath. "That sounds. . . really, really good."
He offers her his stele. Smiling, she takes it and draws the Portal rune. She takes his hand and steps into the Institute.
It is not how she remembers. There are Downworlders training with Shadowhunters, warlocks using their magic, vampires using their speed. The bustle is the same, though; people congregating around the monitors or marching through the halls with seraph blades, ready for the hunt. And in the midst of it all is Isabelle, directing people with all the grace and authority of a queen.
Clary feels a sudden pang of longing for her.
"Izzy!" Jace shouts, calling her attention to them.
Her eyebrows raise. She takes tentative steps down the staircase and stops in front of them. Regaining her composure, she ignores Clary and faces Jace. "What the hell is she doing here?" she demands.
"It's okay, Iz, I've got my memories back." Clary holds out her arms so she can see the runes inked into her skin.
Immediately, her expression changes. She pulls Clary into a tight hug. "How?"
"Ithuriel," Jace says. "He appeared and blessed her with his own Mark. Gave back everything Raziel took from her."
She laughs an incredulous laugh. "We gotta tell Simon. We've gotta get Alec-"
"Izzy, relax," Clary laughs. "We've got time."
Jace winds an arm around her waist. "Yeah, we do."
Izzy contacts the rest of their little family. Simon arrives first, dashing through the doors of the Institute and landing with a jolt in Izzy's office. His eyes are wild and frantic before they settle on Clary's. "Fray?" he says in a shaky voice.
"Hey, Si." Clary smiles tearfully.
He squeezes her tight. "This is incredible."
A Portal opens up in the middle of the room, out of which step Alec and Magnus from Alicante. Magnus beams. "Biscuit," he says, hugging her gently. "So glad you're home."
Alec smiles, throws an arm around her shoulder. "We missed you."
"How is this even possible?" Simon asks. "I thought no one could challenge the will of the Angel."
"No one but another Angel, apparently," Clary says. "I might have Raziel's blood, but I have Ithuriel's too."
"He did not take kindly to what Raziel did," Jace says. Before he can explain, the door swings open, revealing the only parent Clary has left.
She rushes towards him and suddenly she's in his arms, enveloped in the big bear hug that always made her feel safe when she was little.
"Hey, kiddo," he says in a wet voice.
"Luke," she sobs.
He pulls away, revealing Maryse beside him. She smiles warmly, takes Clary's hands in her own. "So the Angels do forgive after all," she says.
"Looks that way."
She squeezes her hands. "I'm so glad."
She isn't Clary's mother. She isn't even close. But she's here, and it's clear that she loves the rest of Clary's family.
And that means everything.
Clary hugs her. "Thank you for taking care of them while I was gone," she murmurs.
"I was returning the favour."
The day is spent catching Clary up on everything she's missed in the Shadow World. She tells them about her mundane life, too; her classes at the Academy, how she's sold nearly all of her paintings from this year's assignments.
"The one you did of our wedding is hanging up at home," Magnus says. "It's my favourite thing in the apartment."
Clary smiles softly. "Guess my work isn't as abstract as I thought."
"I suppose you'll want to go back to it," Izzy says. "Your mundane life." She fidgets with her ruby bracelet.
Clary reaches over to squeeze her hand. "I have my family back. I get to draw runes and fight demons again. My mundane life was nice, but it wasn't real. There was always something missing. Besides," she smirks, "you and I have plans."
"What plans?" Simon asks.
Izzy turns to Alec. "Inquisitor, I am officially requesting leave so Clary and I may undergo the parabatai ceremony."
The reaction is instantaneous, and wonderful. Alec scoops both Izzy and Clary in a hug. Maryse claps her hands in joy. Jace and Simon shoo Alec away so they can hug their girlfriends.
By the time the day is done, Clary is tired but happy. She showers and heads for Jace's room, where he sits on the bed. He gets up to hug her. She sinks into it.
"I can't believe this is really happening," he murmurs into her hair. "This is all I've wanted for a year, and now you're here with me." He pulls back. "Are you sure it's what you want? Izzy was right, you have a life in the mundane world. That shouldn't be taken from you for a second time."
"I meant what I said, Jace. That life was a half-life. This is where I belong. Who I am." Emotion wells up in her, and without warning, she feels like crying.
Jace, of course, notices. He looks at her that way he does, like he can see right to her soul. "You okay?" he asks.
When she first lost her memories, waking up in Central Park wearing a cocktail dress and a tearstained face, she was asked if she was okay all the time. When she was found by a police officer. When she didn't know where she'd been or even what day it was. But after she was returned to her mother's charred, empty loft with the assumption that she'd simply had a minor head injury, it was clear there was no one to care for her. She'd been told Luke, her mother and Simon were dead. She was eighteen - nineteen now, she'd missed a birthday - so she wasn't the state's problem. She had no one to look out for her but herself. And she muddled her way through. She met with the Brooklyn Academy of Art to officially enrol. She found an apartment that she could afford on what little savings she had until she found a part-time job. She became friendly with her classmates.
But no one took care of her.
No one worried when she didn't come home till one in the morning, or brought her back to reality when she lost herself sketching. No one took care of her when she woke up after two days of fever-induced delirium. And when she had nightmares, made all the more terrifying by the fact that she didn't know what they were about, there was no one to soothe her fears away.
But here she is. Home, with a family that for the past year she didn't know existed. A family that loves her and cares about her and wants to make sure she's okay..
So Clary cries, and Jace holds her.
She's home.