For the first time in her life, Clary found herself on the other side of an interrogation table. Across from her sat an agent whose name she couldn't remember. He was watching her with calculating hazel eyes.

"So you did not go with Jonathan Morgenstern willingly?" he asked.

"No!" she yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. "For the thousandth time, no."

When she had walked into the FBI building with Jace, an agent immediately separated them, taking Clary into the room she was currently sitting in. For the past hour or so, the agent had been asking her questions about Jonathan and what happened. She must have told the same story to him at least five times, and now she was getting agitated.

"You seem to be getting pretty upset, Miss Morgenstern," the agent said.

"It's Fray. My last name is Fray," she responded through gritted teeth.

"Noted. So, you had no contact with your brother before this abduction?"

"No."

The agent opened the folder that was in front of him and pulled out a letter. "So you never received this letter from Jonathan? And you were never approached in person by him at a nightclub?"

"I didn't think that counted. That was him contacting me, and I never made an effort to respond."

"Yet, you kept these interactions secret for a while."

"I didn't think they were that big of a deal. Just him playing mind games with me."

"Or did you just not want people to know he was contacting you because you didn't want them to find out you were working with him?"

"This is fucking ridiculous," she muttered, standing up. "I don't know why you're treating me like a criminal. Jonathan fucking kidnapped me and held me hostage for weeks, but you think I'm working with him?" She felt angry tears begin to burn at the back of her eyes.

"Please, sit down, Miss Morgenstern," the agent said sternly.

"I told you it's Fray!" she screamed as she slammed her palms down on the metal table, hot tears trailing down her cheeks.

The door to the room suddenly flew open, and Jace stood there, golden eyes blazing. "That's enough, Zachariah," he snapped.

Zachariah stood from the table and grabbed his folder. "Don't leave town, Clarissa," he ordered before exiting the room.

Clary slumped back down into the chair, placing her elbows on the table and letting her head fall into her hands. Tears continued to fall from her eyes, and she was trying her best to make them stop.

She heard the chair that Zachariah had vacated scrape against the floor, followed by the sound of someone sitting down. "Are you okay?" Jace asked.

She shook her head, still holding it in her hands. "I can't keep doing this," she said, her voice thick.

"Can't keep doing what?"

"I can't keep having people thinking I'm just like him. This is why I didn't want anybody to know. People can't separate me from my family name, and it's exhausting. I'm tired of having to prove my innocence."

She felt a hand on her arm. "Clare, look at me." She did as asked. "Once we finally have Jonathan, you won't have to worry about it anymore. Everyone will know you're innocent. Luke, Alec, and I have all already vouched for you. Zachariah can just be intense. He likes to be one hundred percent certain about the truth, and he was trying to slip you up. Don't take it personally. He's like that with everyone."

"I don't want to go through that again."

"I know. But you probably will. And if I had known they were planning on questioning you so soon, I wouldn't have brought you with me. I'm so sorry."

She shrugged. "It was going to happen at some point."

"They should have given you more time to process everything, though."

"Did you talk to Raphael?" she asked, changing the subject. She was tired of everyone talking about how she needed to process what happened. She didn't need to process anything. She was home and safe, and that's all that mattered.

"Yeah. I actually wanted to talk to you about that. He was afraid Jonathan would dispose of him now that he couldn't fake being a cop anymore and had no use to him. That's why he turned himself in. He felt he had a better chance with us than with Jonathan."

Clary laughed humorlessly. "He's not wrong."

"The thing is, he's only offering information on one condition. He wants immunity for all crimes he's committed, and the D.A. decided to grant it saying Raphael is just a pawn and we want the king."

Clary waited for him to continue, but he didn't say anything else. "Okay. And you wanted to tell me this right now because?"

His brow furrowed as he looked at her. "Honestly, I thought it would upset you. This means he'll be walking free as soon as we have Morgenstern behind bars."

"And?"

"Clary, he's the one who drugged you in order to get you to Jonathan. God knows what else he did while you were there. He's not going to get punished for that. At all."

She gently placed a hand over his, sensing how upset he was getting. "Jace, Raphael is nothing without Jonathan. He's not going to do anyone any harm as long as he's on his own. If he helps us get Jonathan, than I don't care. We could be paying to move him to the Bahamas, and as long as it ended with Jonathan in prison, I'd be fine with it."

He yanked his hand away from her. "How are you being so goddamn calm about this?"

"How are you freaking out about it?" she asked back. "I'm the one who he committed crimes against, yet I'm perfectly fine."

"I'm freaking out because that's what normal people do in this situation, Clary. And if it's not affecting you at all, then maybe your family fucked you up more than you think."

Clary stared at him for a moment, and then stood up without saying a word. He looked at her curiously and watched as she crossed the room to the door. He didn't speak until she opened it.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home."

He stood up and took a step toward her. "Let me drive you back."

She shook her head. "No. I'd rather walk."

She didn't wait for his response before walking out.

The sound of slow, pacing footsteps echoed in the room. She couldn't see who was there, though. There was something covering her eyes. She went to move her arms up and free her vision, but she couldn't. Something was keeping her wrists tied down. Whatever movement she had made caught the attention of the pacer, and their movement stopped.

"Ah, you're finally awake," a familiar voice spoke from right next to her. "You've kept me waiting, Clarissa."

"Where am I?" she asked. "What's going on?"

"Did you really think you could escape me?" Jonathan whispered into her ear, causing her to shiver. "I always get what I want, dear sister."

She felt something cool and sharp against her chest and quickly realized it must be a knife. "What do you want, Jonathan?"

"I want you gone. If you're not going to be Morgenstern, you're not going to be at all," he growled before plunging the knife through her chest.

She woke up with a gasp and covered in a cold sweat. She frantically looked around and was relieved to find herself in her own room. It was just another dream. She wasn't back at Jonathan's. She was home.

While her mind was telling her she was safe, she didn't feel it. Something felt off. Since coming home, all she wanted was alone time. But in that moment, the last thing she felt like being was alone.

From under her pillow, she pulled out the kitchen knife that she had been keeping there just in case, and walked out of her room. Without even checking the time, she grabbed the landline off the kitchen counter and dialed the only number on her mind.

The line rang a few times before someone finally picked up. "Hello?" Jace answered, his voice thick with sleep.

"Hey," she said lamely.

"Clary? Are you okay?" he asked, sounding more alert and awake.

"Yeah. I'm good. Um, are you busy?"

"Do you need something?"

"I-I just don't want to be alone right now."

"I'll be right over," he said and hung up before she could say anything else.

Clary put the phone back in its cradle and entered the kitchen. She rummaged through her cabinets, and while she didn't have much, she managed to find an unopened bottle of cheap wine. She dug around for a corkscrew and opened the bottle, filling the largest glass she had. Wine in hand, she padded into her living room, stopping in front of her bookshelf. She pulled out an old, worn book and sat down on the floor.

Taking a sip of the wine, she opened to the first page. Taped to the page was a photo of seemingly picture perfect family. There were two beaming parents standing behind two children who were their spitting images. Clary turned the page to a picture of her and Jonathan. They were sitting on a piano bench, and Clary was completely focused on Jonathan as his fingers moved across the keys.

A drop of water appeared on the photo, and Clary realized she was crying. All the photos in the album depicted a perfectly normal family, but that was so far from the truth. All she wanted was to have a normal family. She wanted to have an older brother to look up to and who would protect her, not one that kidnapped her and caused her physical harm. She wanted a father she could share fond memories of with her friends, not a crime lord she kept secret.

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts, and she quickly closed the photo album before getting off the floor. Without removing the chain, she opened the door a crack, making sure it was Jace. She then completely unlocked and opened the door.

"Have you been crying?" Jace asked, the second he walked into her apartment.

Clary wiped at her eyes. "I bet your glad to see me affected in some way," she said. "Might not have been as fucked up by family as you think."

He frowned at her. "Clare, I never should have said that. I was just upset about Raphael getting off scot free, and I couldn't understand why you were okay with it. Honestly, you are one of the strongest people I know, and I have no idea how you do it."

Clary choked out a sob, more tears falling from her eyes. Jace looked at her with alarm with alarm evident on his face.

"Shit. What did I say now?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing. I'm just not this strong person that you think I am, okay?" she said through tears. "I keep crying over this normal life that I'll never have and I keep having these bad dreams and I'm just pretending to be okay so nobody worries about me."

Jace gently took her by the hand and lead her to her couch. He sat and pulled her down with him. He carefully wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him. "Bad dreams? Is that why you called?" She nodded into his chest. "What was it about?" he asked, soothingly running his hands up and down her back.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I was back at Jonathan's, and h-he didn't keep me alive this time."

"Oh, Clare." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "I won't ever let him touch you again. I promise."

An unfamiliar beeping pulled her from a dreamless sleep. As she approached consciousness, she felt extremely hot, and there was an odd weight across her torso. With a groan, she opened her eyes and found herself facing her living room, which meant she had to be on the couch.

A light snoring caught her attention, and she turned her head to see Jace behind her, fast asleep. She looked down and saw that his arm was thrown across her waist and their feet were tangled together. She remembered talking on the couch with him about everything and nothing last night, but she couldn't remember laying down or falling asleep.

The beeping noise was still filling the room. Jace's phone was on the table and the screen was lit up. Clary figured it was an alarm and rolled over to face him.

"Jace," she called, her voice scratchy from sleep. When he didn't respond, she called his name louder.

He squeezed eyes closed tighter. "Hm?"

"Your alarm," she sighed, closing her eyes again.

"Fuck," he grumbled. "That's for work."

Instead of getting up like she expected him to, he tightened the arm that was around her waist and buried his face in her hair. She heard his breathing even out again.

"Jace," she whined, poking him in the stomach. "You have to get up."

"No," he mumbled into her hair.

"At least fucking turn the alarm off," she said, annoyed with the incessant beeping.

Sighing, he untangled himself from her and leaned over to turn his alarm off. "I am way too tired to go into work today," he said as he climbed over.

"I'm sorry," Clary yawned as she snuggled deeper into the couch cushions.

"Why are you sorry?" Jace asked, putting on his shoes.

"I kept you up," she mumbled, as her eyes began to feel heavy again.

Jace crouched down in front of her. "Hey, don't apologize for that. I'm always here for you." He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek before standing up. "Just try to get some rest, and don't hesitate to call me if you need anything."

Clary was back asleep before he even made it to her door.