Chapter Eighteen

"If I have to read one more demon report, I'm going to gouge out my own eyes," Jace announced, dumping a sheaf of papers onto the coffee table and sinking back into the sofa.

"I hate to break it to you, but it's kind of our job," said Clary with amusement, looking up from the book she was reading.

The moon was full and high in the sky. It was a remarkably clear night; it had been snowing earlier, and from the library Clary could see the street shining in the moonlight, reflecting headlights and taillights. She leaned back against the cushions, wincing slightly as the baby gave her a good hard kick.

"Everything okay?" said Jace, glancing at her.

"Yeah." She rubbed her belly ruefully.

"Is he bothering you?" Jace leaned in close to her belly. "Hey, you, pipe down in there. It's past your bedtime."

Clary laughed. "There's no point. I swear he's nocturnal."

Jace gave a mischievous grin. "I know how to put him to sleep." He grabbed one of the demon reports and began to read it out loud in a monotone voice. "'Demon report number forty-six for January of 2018. Three drevak demons were found in a cemetery, devouring a rotting corpse'—"

He broke off as Clary smacked his shoulder. "Don't read him that!"

"Well, is it working?" Jace asked.

The baby punched Clary's ribs.

"No," she said, grimacing.

Jace sighed, tossing the report back onto its pile. "That's one stubborn kid."

"Gee, I wonder where he gets it," said Clary sarcastically. Jace's lip quirked up.

"I have absolutely no idea what you mean," he said. Clary rolled her eyes and went back to poring over her book. "Are you reading an atlas for fun?" Jace asked, looking over her shoulder.

"No," said Clary. "I was thinking about that pit in the hotel. How the demons could have hidden from the Sensor." Alec had asked Magnus about it as soon as he'd gotten back, but Magnus was as stumped as they were. "Do you remember when Sebastian attacked the Adamant Citadel? How he hid half his forces from us?"

"He hid them in the Seelie Court," Jace said. "But they can't be involved in this. There's no way they'd have access to that many demons."

"But the Seelie Queen could only get them to the Citadel because it was built on ley lines," Clary said. "And I keep thinking about that light I saw at the bottom of the hole..." She traced her finger down a golden line on the map of the east coast of North America. "This ley line cuts through Manhattan," she said. "What if the hotel was built on it, and someone opened a Portal to another dimension? A demon dimension?"

Jace raised his eyebrows. "Is that possible?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Clary closed the book and set it on the coffee table. "I'd have to ask Magnus."

"That would explain how so many of them got through, if they were coming straight from a demon dimension," Jace said. "I think you've cracked it, Clary."

She smiled. "Let's just wait and see what Magnus says before we start celebrating." She stretched, lifting her arms above her head. Her shirt rode up, exposing her belly. Jace reached over and poked it.

"Hey," Clary said, jabbing a finger at him. "No poking the baby, remember?" Jace laughed. As Clary went to pull her shirt down, she paused, staring down at her belly. "Look, I have a stretch mark," she said, running her finger along her stomach.

It was a thin white mark, the size of her index finger, winding its way up across her skin like a river carving through stone. Jace leaned forward to look at it.

"I like it," he said unexpectedly.

She raised her eyebrows. "You do?"

"Yeah," he said, reaching out to touch it. "It's like..." He moved his fingers up her bare arms, tracing the white scars of countless used-up Marks. "Every one of these tells a story. Some battle, some victory, some challenge you overcame. This—" He touched the stretch mark again— "is just another scar. Except it's so much more special, because it's a reminder that you're growing a life in here. You're doing something incredible."

Clary looked at him, smiling slightly. "How do you always know the right thing to say?"

"I'm gifted that way," said Jace, grinning as he leaned in to kiss her. She lingered against his lips for a moment before pulling away. She sighed, propping her hand on her head and gazing at him. "What's up?" he said.

She gave a soft smile. "I just love these little moments. We won't get many of them once the baby comes."

"We'll get new ones," said Jace. "Better ones." He pulled her against him, and she leaned her head on his shoulder, snuggling into him. She exhaled, relaxing.

There was a loud crash in the hallway. She sat up straight; Jace had gone very still. He stood, pulling her up with him. The library doors were open, and Clary could hear muffled scuffling and grunting. Glancing at Jace, she went to the door and edged into the hallway.

Something was moving by the entrance doors; as Jace and Clary approached, Clary began to relax as she noticed the tangle of coats on the floor and the two high-heeled feet kicking helplessly from beneath the coatrack.

"Izzy?" she said.

Isabelle managed to extricate herself from the mess and flopped onto her back, gazing up at Jace and Clary. "Hello," she said.

"Are you drunk?" Clary asked.

Isabelle staggered to her feet. "No," she said defiantly. "Well, yes," she admitted. "Well—I meant to get drunk, but we ran out of alcohol. So I came here." She glanced down at the upended coatrack and stooped to correct it. It clanged loudly against the stone wall as she heaved it upright. "Speaking of which, do you have any alcohol?" she said, attempting to kick the mess of coats beneath a bench.

"Um," Jace said. "That doesn't seem like a good idea—"

He broke off as Isabelle gave him a murderous glare. Clary patted his arm. "I'll take care of this," she said. "You go up to bed, I'll be there soon."

He nodded and dropped a kiss on the top of her head before traipsing back the way they came.

"Come on," said Clary, reaching out a hand to Isabelle. "I'm sure we have something in the kitchen."

"Great," said Isabelle, making to follow her. "Wait, nope, I have to pee." She spun around, squinting down the hallway.

"That way," said Clary, pointing over her shoulder.

"I knew that!" Isabelle said defensively. "I lived here before you, remember?"

Clary sighed. "Meet me in the kitchen when you're done, okay?"

Isabelle nodded and headed down the hallway. Clary waited until she had disappeared into the bathroom before going to the kitchen. She opened the liquor cabinet and pulled out a nearly empty bottle of "Ready-to-Drink Margarita Mix!". Quickly, she dumped the remainder into the sink, pulled a jug of lemonade out of the fridge, and filled up the margarita bottle. She stuck the lemonade back into the fridge just as Isabelle stumbled into the kitchen, plopping herself heavily into a chair.

"Is it rude to ask a pregnant woman for alcohol?" she said musingly.

"Not at all," said Clary. "Especially when the pregnant woman in question is your sister-in-law." She slid the bottle across the table. "There are some caveats, however, including the fact that we don't actually have a lot of alcohol. All I could find was premade margarita mix."

Isabelle frowned. "You seriously don't have anything else?"

"It's not like we've been doing a lot of drinking lately," Clary pointed out.

"Jace isn't pregnant," said Izzy grumpily.

"Jace is abstaining out of solidarity," said Clary loftily, pouring herself a glass of water. "Or at least, he's abstaining because I told him if he drinks, I'll make him sleep on the couch for a month."

Isabelle unscrewed the top of the bottle and took a swig. "This just tastes like lemonade," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"Weird," said Clary, sitting opposite her. "So," she said, raising her own glass, "what are we drinking to?"

"Husbands," Isabelle said gloomily. "Or rather, the impending lack thereof."

"What?" Clary said, astonished. "You and Simon aren't—"

"No." Isabelle sighed. "But it's only a matter of time, isn't it?"

"How do you figure?"

Isabelle was quiet for a moment. Then, softly, she said, "Simon wants a baby."

"He—what?" said Clary, completely nonplussed.

"Wants a baby," Isabelle repeated dully, tipping the bottle back again.

"So...wait, you came over here because—" Clary broke off, her eyes widening. "Oh my God, Izzy, you're not—"

"I'm not," said Isabelle irritably. "Why do people keep asking me that? And anyway, if I was, I wouldn't be stupid enough to drink..." She appeared to do some difficult math in her head. "Two bottles of alcohol. Three? No, two." She squinted at the bottle in front of her. "Two and a quarter."

"Okay, maybe you should go easy on that," Clary said, reaching over to take the bottle away. Isabelle made a hissing noise like a cat, hugging the bottle to her chest. "Or not," Clary muttered, sitting back.

Isabelle took a long chug from the bottle and slammed it down on the table. "He's just being such a dick about it," she said angrily.

"How is this the first time I'm hearing about this?" Clary said.

Isabelle sighed. "Well, it started while we were in Morocco looking for a way to stop Beelzebub..."

"This isn't it," said Simon, slamming another book closed. He threw it onto the growing pile beside him. "How are we ever supposed to find that stupid spellbook in this place?"

Isabelle couldn't fault him for being frustrated. The Morocco Institute's library was smaller than the New York one, but every bookshelf was so tightly packed with books that Isabelle had at one point accidentally dislodged three at once trying to tug one out. They had been searching for the spellbook for over a week now, skimming dusty tome after dusty tome, and had come up with nothing.

She sighed as she wedged a book back into its place. "I know it's here somewhere. It's just going to take a little time."

"We don't have time," said Simon. "Clary doesn't have time."

Isabelle went over to him, sitting on the arm of the couch. "I know," she said. "But all we can do is keep looking." She touched his cheek lightly. "Do you want to take a break? You've been working hard all morning."

"No," said Simon, standing up. "We should keep working."

He went to walk away, but Isabelle took his hand, pulling him back. "Simon," she said softly. "Take a break."

She tilted her head up and he brought his down, their lips meeting. He leaned into her, pressing her into the couch. Their kisses grew more fevered; Isabelle toppled backward, pulling Simon down with her. He ran his fingers through her hair, unravelling her braid.

"Izzy," he murmured. "Izzy, let's have a baby."

She pulled away with a loud squelching noise. He blinked at her, looking somewhat disoriented after the delirium of their kiss. "What?" she squeaked.

"What?" he said blankly.

She pushed him off her, scrambling to her feet. "What did you say?"

"Let's have a baby, Iz," he said, reaching out to her. She backed away, colliding with the coffee table. "What's the matter?"

"You—you—" Isabelle spluttered. "You can't just spring something like that on me!"

"Did I?" He looked genuinely confused. "I thought we talked about having kids."

"Yeah," said Isabelle emphatically, "in the future. We can't—we're not—we've only been married three years!"

"Clary and Jace have been married for less, and they're having a baby," Simon pointed out.

"Clary and Jace didn't plan it," Isabelle said. "And with everything that's going on right now, this is the absolute worst time to have a baby!"

"Okay, so when this is all over," Simon said. "When it's safe. How about then?"

"I don't—where is this even coming from?" Isabelle demanded.

"I don't know." Simon scratched his head. "I guess I've been thinking about it for a while. I mean, Magnus and Alec seem really happy with Max and Rafe, and I think Clary was excited to be pregnant, you know, for the two seconds before everything went to hell—"

"That's a lot of 'seem's and 'think's," Isabelle said.

Simon crossed his arms. "Is what I'm asking for really that crazy?"

"Kind of!" said Isabelle. "Look, can we just—I don't know—put a pin in this? We should get back to work."

"I thought we were taking a break," said Simon. "What's up with you, Izzy? I thought you wanted this."

"I do, I just—" Isabelle struggled to find the words. "Just not yet," she said. "I don't think we're ready."

"Ready for what? To be parents?" He got up and slid his arms around her waist. "We'll be great parents, Izzy."

"Simon," she said, gently putting his arms back by his side, "I'm not ready."

"Why not?" he asked. "You're great with Max and Rafe."

"Yeah, I talk to them, and I play with them, and then I hand them right back to Alec and Magnus," Isabelle said. "It's different than having our own kid."

"Of course it is," Simon said. "Because having our own baby would be so much more special, Izzy."

"I know, but—"

"So then what's the hang-up?" Simon said, his voice hard.

"I don't want to get pregnant right now!" Isabelle said.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't," said Isabelle, starting to grow angry. "I'm not ready for it. That should be a good enough answer for you."

"Well, it's not," Simon said heatedly. "We've been talking about kids for years, and now suddenly you don't want them? Because of what, vanity?"

Isabelle gaped at him. "Vanity?"

Simon grimaced. "No, I didn't mean that," he said, running his fingers roughly through his hair. "I just meant—wouldn't it all be worth it in the end?"

"Have you even looked at Clary lately?" Isabelle demanded. "She's absolutely miserable. And sure, it might be worth it for her, but the fact is that I'm not ready to put myself through all that. And if that makes me selfish and vain, fine."

"You're not selfish and vain," Simon said quietly. He seemed to have lost all the fight in him; he sat back down on the couch, looking thoroughly defeated.

Isabelle closed her eyes, the fire in her dying too. She sat beside him. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I wish I was ready, but I'm just not."

"It's okay," Simon said resignedly. "But...do you think you'll change your mind?"

Isabelle hesitated. "Yeah. I think so."

"Okay." He kissed her cheek. "I'll wait."

The bottle was half empty; Isabelle passed it between her hands as she talked.

"And I thought that would be it," she said dully. "But then he brought it up again, and again, and now it's all we ever talk about. The tiniest little thing turns into a fight, and it all boils down to the fact that he wants a baby and I don't." She took a drink. "And I keep feeling like he's being so damn pushy, but maybe I'm just being a bitch. Maybe I'm selfish."

"You're not selfish," said Clary gently.

"Yeah, you're right," Isabelle said. "If I was selfish, I wouldn't be feeling this bad about it." She gave a bitter laugh. "Maybe I'm broken. We're supposed to want to have kids early, you know, in case we die out in the field. My mom had Alec when she was twenty-one. I didn't even get married until I was twenty-two."

"You know, in the mundane world that's still considered pretty early," Clary said.

Isabelle shrugged, taking another swig. "Every time she comes over, I know she wants to ask when I'm going to pop one out, and I know she and Simon are going to gang up on me about it...but the more he pushes, the less I want to do it. Now I feel like I'm just being stubborn."

"You're not," said Clary sharply. "Isabelle, you have every right to say no."

She looked surprised. "I thought you'd side with Simon," she said. "Since he's your parabatai. And you're, you know—" She mimed a ballooning stomach.

Clary laughed. "It's because I'm pregnant that I'm siding with you."

"Seriously?" She looked baffled. "Aren't you supposed to be over the moon or something? Excited for your soon-to-be bundle of joy?"

"Well, I am," Clary said. "But these past six months haven't exactly been fun. And it's only going to get harder from here."

"Then why does anyone do it?" Isabelle huffed, resting her chin on the table. "It sounds like it sucks."

Clary gave a wan smile. "I wish I could tell you. All I know is I want this baby, and that makes it worth it. But if you don't want to do it—"

"It's not that I don't," Isabelle sighed. "I mean, I want a baby. I've always wanted one. But when I think about having a baby right now, I just get all nervous." She blew a piece of hair out of her face. "Maybe we should just do it. I mean...I could be a mom, right?"

Clary looked at her for a long moment. Then she stood and moved around the table. "Give me your hand," she said.

Isabelle raised her eyebrows, but offered her hand. Clary took it and placed it on her belly, feeling the baby kick. Isabelle's lips parted slightly.

"This isn't some hypothetical, Izzy," she said softly. "This is what a baby is, a real human being. You're responsible for its happiness for at least eighteen years, if not the rest of your life. You have to be there through all the hard stuff, and you can't walk away. Being a mother means giving up parts of your life and giving everything you have to your children."

"How do you know?" said Isabelle sullenly. "You're not a mom yet. Not really."

Clary smiled wryly. "You think I haven't wanted to be at the bottom of a bottle these last few months? First with Beelzebub, now everything that's happening with demons coming after Jace? I'd be splitting that bottle with you if I wasn't pregnant, but my baby has to come first. And I've had to stay back from missions so many times when all I've wanted was to be there to protect Jace, but even when I went with Alec, all I could think about was trying to keep the baby safe. Because right now, I'm the only one responsible for his safety. It's terrifying sometimes." She reached out and stroked Isabelle's hair. "Being a mom isn't for everyone," she said. "And that's okay. But if you're going to do it, you have to be sure."

"I think I could be," Isabelle mumbled. "Just not yet."

"That's okay, too. Take your time. You'll know when you're ready." Clary sat back down as Isabelle took another drink. "And Izzy," she said, reaching out to take Isabelle's hand, "Simon may be my parabatai, but you're my sister. I'm always on your side."

Isabelle blinked hard. "Damn it. Why'd you have to say that? You know I cry easily when I'm drunk." Clary smiled and patted Isabelle's hand as she wiped at her eyes. "Are you sure you don't have any more alcohol?" she said. "I feel like this stuff is making me more sober."

Clary was saved from replying by approaching footsteps. Simon appeared in the doorway.

"I knew you'd be here," he said, folding his arms.

"Good for you," Isabelle said, staring at the bottom of the bottle. "Do you want a medal or something?"

Simon came further into the kitchen. "You're still drinking?"

"Yeah," Isabelle shot back. "What about it?"

"I think you've had enough," said Simon. He reached out to take the bottle away from her, but she stood up, jabbing a finger at him.

"Listen, you—" Her eyelids fluttered shut and she toppled into his arms. He staggered back with the sudden weight of her.

"Is she okay?" Clary asked worriedly.

A loud snore rumbled through the kitchen. Simon sighed. "I think she's fine," he said, hoisting her into his arms. He jerked his chin at the bottle on the table. "You gave her more alcohol?"

"It's lemonade," Clary assured him. "Don't worry, I'm not stupid."

He shook his head, smiling. "I know you're not. That's pretty smart, actually."

"No need to sound so surprised," said Clary, grinning at him. "Considering she said she drank two bottles at your place—"

"Nah, not really," said Simon. "I watered everything down ages ago." He glanced down at Isabelle, who was drooling on his shirt. "She still got pretty drunk, though."

"Come on," Clary said. "You can both crash here tonight."

She led him upstairs to Isabelle's old room, where he deposited her into the bed. She mumbled something and rolled onto her side, snoring with her mouth open.

"She's going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow," Simon said, pulling a lock of hair out of Isabelle's mouth.

"She's survived worse," Clary said. "Remember my twenty-first birthday party?"

Simon shuddered. "Worst day of my life," he said. He gave a humorless laugh. "Though I guess this comes pretty close." He glanced at Clary sideways. "How much did she tell you?"

"Pretty much all of it," Clary said. Simon sighed, seeming to deflate. Clary took his arm. "Come on," she said. "Let's talk."

She took him down the hall to a spare bedroom and closed the door behind them. He sat heavily on the bed. "What's going on with you, Simon?" she said softly, sitting beside him.

"I don't know." He rested his chin on his hand. "I guess I'm just frustrated. I didn't think it would be like this. I always thought we were on the same page."

"I think you still can be," Clary said. "She just needs a little time to catch up to you."

"But we've talked about it before," said Simon. "Having kids. And she always seemed so excited. And then all of a sudden, it was like she just changed her mind, and—" He ran a hand through his hair. "I just don't get why," he said, sounding aggravated.

"No," said Clary gently, "you really don't." She put a hand on her stomach. "This is a lot to ask someone to go through, Simon. It's not easy, it's not painless, and it's not fun. And sure, it can be beautiful and magical, but it's also really difficult. And if she's not ready for all this, then you need to respect that. Because she's the one who's going to have to bear the weight for nine months. Not you."

"I know." Simon exhaled. "And I know she keeps saying she's not ready but—but maybe you never are. I mean, you weren't, right?"

"No," Clary admitted.

"So maybe we just have to go for it." He turned to her, looking desperate. "Right?

"Simon," Clary sighed. "I can't answer that. Only Isabelle can."

They sat in silence for a moment, Simon's shoulders slumping. At last, he said, "Why didn't you have the abortion? If you really weren't ready? I mean, with everything you were going through...it seemed like an easy way out of it."

She chewed her lip. "Well...I thought about it. Some days, when it was really hard, I really considered doing it. But the fact is, as soon as I knew I was pregnant, I knew I wanted the baby. And if I'd had the abortion, it wouldn't have been because I wanted to. It would have been because Beelzebub was forcing me to make that decision. And that was the one thing I wouldn't let him have power over, not when he was already in control of my mind and my dreams and..." She broke off, winding her fingers together. "I just knew I wanted the baby."

"But that's the thing," said Simon, "maybe once she got pregnant, she'd be ready. She'd want it."

"Simon," Clary said gently, "I chose to have the baby even though I knew what it would cost, but that's not a choice anyone should have to make. And I think it would have been easier if we had planned it, because then it would have been cut and dry, you know? I would have been certain. But we didn't plan him, and I wasn't ready, and that made it so, so much harder." She reached out, rubbing his shoulder. "I know how much you want this. And I really think she does, too. You just have to give her time. And you have to stop trying to force her into it."

He dropped his head into his hands. "God, I must look like a total asshole."

"Well, yeah, kind of," Clary said.

"It's not like I want to pressure her," Simon said. "I just...I guess I didn't realize how much I wanted it. But you're right. I've been a real jerk to her."

"I think you owe her an apology," Clary said. "A really, really big one."

His lip quirked at the corner. "Any ideas?"

"I'm sure she'll have plenty," said Clary, smiling. "Come on, it's late. We should both get to bed."

He stood first and helped her up. She walked him back to Isabelle's room, pausing at the door. "Simon?" He looked at her. "You'll be a great dad," she said. "Whenever it happens."

He smiled. "Thanks." He kissed the top of her head before entering the room. Clary exhaled and walked down the hall to her own bedroom.

Jace opened his eyes as Clary slid into bed. "Hey," he said. "Everything okay with Izzy?"

"I think it will be," Clary said. "I might have singlehandedly saved a marriage tonight."

Jace grinned. "You would." He pulled her in against him, or as much as he could with her belly between them. "All in a day's work for the smartest Shadowhunter of our time."

Clary laughed, kissing his nose. "Go to sleep, you dork."

A/N: I know a lot of you have been waiting for this chapter, so I hope it was a satisfying answer to your questions! If you've enjoyed it, please leave a review. Thanks so much for reading!

~4L