Clary anxiously scanned the faces of the passengers arriving from the terminal. When she saw one that matched her own, she broke out into a sprint across the airport and threw her arms around her mother, a sob escaping her throat.

Jocelyn hugged her back, squeezing tightly. "It's okay. I'm okay," Jocelyn whispered.

It had been months since Clary had seen her mother. Luke, along with the FBI agents who had taken over Jonathan's case, had decided to keep in her protective custody until the end of the trial and sentencing. Now that he was serving a life sentence without a possibility of parole, they decided it was time for Jocelyn to come home. There was still that worry about Jonathan's men who were on the outside, but they didn't think he would have enough pull with there being no chance of him seeing the outside world again.

"I was so scared," Clary cried into her mother's shirt.

"I know you were, baby girl, but I'm here." She pulled away, tucking a few strands of Clary's hair behind her ear. "I was scared, too, knowing you were still here in New York with him. And then you had to go through that trial all by yourself." Her mother made a soft tsk noise.

Clary felt her cheeks flush. "I, uh, wasn't exactly alone." She looked behind her to where Jace stood about twenty feet away, his hands stuffed into his pockets and looking at the ground.

Jocelyn followed her line of sight and quirked an eyebrow. "I guess I missed a lot, didn't I?"

Clary led her mom over to Jace, and he raised his head as he heard them approach. He gave Clary a shy smile, and she moved away from Jocelyn to hold Jace's hand.

"Mom, this is Jace. My boyfriend," she said, still finding it weird to use that term for him. "Jace, this Jocelyn."

"Nice to finally meet you, Miss Fray." He reached out with his free hand and shook Jocelyn's.

Jocelyn eyed him skeptically. "Jace is your boyfriend," she said slowly. "Jace Wayland."

Clary bit her lip and nodded. She had done her fair share of bitching to her mom about him in the past. "The one and only."

"Huh," was Jocelyn's only response, and Clary knew they would be having a private conversation about it later.

Jace drove them to Jocelyn's house. Clary stayed quiet during the drive while Jocelyn tried to learn more about Jace and his new job. Jace answered all her questions honestly and politely, throwing Clary a smile every once in a while.

He pulled into the driveway and told Clary to let him know when she was done so he could pick her up and take her home. What he left out was that it wasn't just her home anymore. It was their home. But Jocelyn didn't need to know that quite yet.

She and Jace had started off with their separate lives and apartments, but Clary had ended up calling Jace over a lot when she had nightmares. They reached the point where Jace was spending more time in her apartment than his own, so they simply decided to move him in.

Inside the house, Clary started a pot of coffee while her mother went to put away her things. Clary made Jocelyn's coffee the way she knew she liked it and waited at the small kitchen table for the questions that were sure to come.

"So, you and Jace?" Jocelyn asked once she returned downstairs.

"Me and Jace."

"He's not going to get in the way of your work?"

Clary shook her head. "I'm still working with the PD, but he's with the FBI now, so our paths will rarely cross in a professional sense."

She'd been afraid about her ability to continue working with the precinct. She wasn't sure how everyone would react to her lineage being revealed, but Luke assured her that nobody cared. Everything Jonathan and Raphael had told her only existed to plant seeds of doubt in her mind. Luke promised she had a job with them as long as she wanted it.

Jocelyn moved her head up and down a few times. "It's not that long ago you were telling me how much you hated him," Jocelyn pointed out, taking a sip of her coffee.

"You know what they say, there's a thin line between love and hate," Clary said, gently spinning the cup between her hands.

"You think you love him?"

"I know I do, Mom."

"And he feels the same?"

"He was the first to say it," she responded, an edge of annoyance in her voice.

"I just want you to be careful, Clary," Jocelyn sighed. "From what I can recall, he hasn't treated you so well in the past."

Clary knew why her mom was worried. Jocelyn felt like she ignored too many red flags when it came to Valentine. That she had fallen too fast for him and hadn't taken the time to see his true colors.

"And I dealt it right back. But the past doesn't matter right now. He's kind and caring and treats me better than I ever would have expected. We still rib each other, and sometimes it goes too far, but we talk it through like mature adults in a healthy relationship."

"And you're happy?" Jocelyn asked, watching her daughter carefully.

"Extremely."

Jocelyn let out a large breath. "Okay. As long as you're happy, then I'm happy."

Clary was getting a pot from under the counter to start dinner when her phone rang shrilly from the living room. A curse left her mouth as she hit her head on the cabinet in her hurry to get up. She made it to the phone and accepted the call right before it went to voicemail.

"Hello?" she answered, slightly out of breath from her sprint from the kitchen.

"Is this Clarissa Fray?" a vaguely familiar voice asked.

She nodded before realizing they couldn't see her. "Yeah."

"Miss Fray, this Zachariah. I worked on your brother's case."

Clary immediately felt her heart rate pick up as the worst scenarios started to run through her mind. Had Jonathan escaped?

"I remember," she said. She didn't forget the man who had interrogated her like she was the criminal after she escaped from Jonathan.

"I'm afraid I have a favor to ask you," Zachariah said. "Mr. Morgenstern is willing to reveal the identities and locations of some of his associates. On the condition that his sister agrees to meet with him."

Clary closed her eyes. It was just like when he wouldn't talk without seeing her first. He liked to know he could manipulate her into doing what he wanted. That he still had a hold on her. Part of her wanted to say no to spite him. But the other part wanted more criminals off the street.

"When?" she asked.

"As soon as possible. Now, if that can be done. You know your brother is not a patient man."

"I'll be right there," she said without hesitation. Knowing Jonathan, he would rescind the offer if she didn't show up immediately.

She texted Jace to let him know she had to run out real quick. He was still at work, and she didn't know if the news had been shared with him. If it hadn't, she didn't want him to know until after. He would be mad, but at least he couldn't stop her if it was already done.

The cab ride to the prison was short in reality but felt like forever to her as she mulled over what Jonathan could possibly want with her. He was big into playing games, but did he have some kind of end goal?

Zachariah met her in the lobby before leading her through security. She was checked for weapons and her cell phone confiscated to be given back later. She was then taken to a small room where Jonathan sat with his feet shackled to a chair and his hands cuffed in his lap. Zachariah left the room, and she took a seat across the table from her brother.

He didn't look much different than he had the last time she'd seen him. His hair was a little longer and the gray sweatpants and white t-shirt were different from his typical business attire, but that was it. She had a feeling he was probably treated well in the prison, all things considered. Money talks, and he had a lot of it.

"Hello, dear sister," Jonathan greeted, his smile revealing a perfect row of teeth.

"Jonathan."

He cocked his head to the side. "You don't seem too happy to see me."

"I would rather eat a bowl of rusty nails than be in a room with you, but the store was all out."

He barked out a laugh. "Such an attitude you still have. After all you've done, can you really sit there and pretend you're any better than me, Clarissa? You have blood on your hands, too."

"I didn't do anything I wasn't coerced to do."

"But you did ignore my warnings. That poor little girl died because of you. I wonder what her parents think, waking up every morning knowing she's gone. Knowing it could have all been avoided if someone had followed simple directions."

Clary swallowed roughly. He was trying to goad her. Make her break down. But she wasn't going to fall so easily. She'd started seeing someone during the trial to help her work through everything, including the all-consuming guilt she felt. It was taking time, but she was slowly realizing she wasn't at fault. Jonathan was the guilty party. Jonathan had made the choice. Jonathan probably would have committed the murder either way.

"She died because you killed her, and that's all there is to it," Clary said, her voice even despite the quaking she felt inside.

"You forced my hand, Clarissa. So much innocent blood spilled because you wanted to play detective with that little boyfriend of yours. How is he doing?"

"He's none of your goddamn business."

Jonathan grinned at her. "Touchy, touchy. You should know better. A weakness like that could be exploited by the wrong people. It would be a shame if something were to happen to him."

Clary stood abruptly, her palms slamming against the table. "You touch him, and I will find a way in here to take you out myself," she hissed.

His eyes sparkled as his smile only widened. "My, my. Threatening murder? Maybe we aren't so different after all."

"I am nothing like you," she spat.

"I heard Mother is back in the city," he said, changing tactics. "Hope she has someone watching out for her."

Clary felt her body go rigid. "What are you saying?"

"After what she did to Father, the bitch deserves to die, and I—"

Clary lunged across the table, her fists going for his face. Not even two seconds later, the door to the room opened, and a strong pair of arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back. She fought against their hold, trying to get another hit at Jonathan, who was still smiling with blood running from his nose and into his teeth.

"Clare, you gotta stop."

Her body relaxed at Jace's voice, and she allowed him to pull her from the room.

"Not so different, you and I!" Jonathan shouted before the door closed, leaving him alone.

Jace turned her around, looking her over. He took her hand, and she inhaled sharply at the sting she felt as he pressed down on her knuckles.

"We might want to get your hand checked out, short stuff," he said quietly.

"Yeah," she said, pulling her hand away and cradling it to her chest. "What are you doing here?"

"Someone tipped me off to what was going down since Zachariah didn't think it was important enough to share."

He cut a glare of her shoulder, and she turned to see Zachariah standing there.

"We didn't want you trying to intervene," Zachariah said simply.

"I—I'm sorry I lost in there," Clary said, tears stinging the backs of her eyes.

"Don't apologize, Clare," Jace replied. "Jonathan knew what he was doing in there with everything he was saying."

"But what if he doesn't share the information now? And, oh god, what about my mom?" she shouted.

It was Zachariah's turn to speak. "He gave us half the names before you showed up. If he decides not to share the rest, we still have something. As for Jocelyn, we have eyes on her at all times."

She nodded, still not feeling great about that. "Okay. That's good, I guess."

"We do appreciate you coming down here, though. Hopefully we won't need to do it again."

"Yeah, hopefully." After what just happened, she wasn't so sure she'd agree to see her brother again, no matter what he offered. She refused to give him the chance to mess with her mind again.

"I think I should get her home," Jace said. "Next time, you keep me in the loop, Zach."

Clary was in the shower, trying to wash her hair with one hand. Her other wasn't broken, but her knuckles were bruised, and it hurt to use. She felt a rush of cold hair hit her back as the curtain opened and Jace stepped in behind her.

"Need help?" he asked.

She nodded silently and felt his hands in her hair. A low moan left her as his fingers massaged the shampoo into her scalp. Jace moved her back into the water stream to rise it out, and when she stepped back into him his arousal pressed against her back.

His lips found her neck as his hands landed on her stomach.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was when I learned you were meeting with him?" he asked, one hand moving down.

"Uh-uh," she breathed as his hand touched her where she wanted him most.

He began to rub light circles. "Worried out of my mind, darling."

"S-sorry," she stuttered, her legs shaking slightly.

His fingers moved to slide into her. "But then I saw you holding your own against him and that wicked punch you landed." He pumped his fingers slowly in and out, his palm hitting her bundle of nerves with each thrust. "So unbelievably hot," he growled into her ear. "Almost as hot those little noises you make when I touch you."

She whimpered, a familiar burn coiling in her stomach.

"Just like that," he said. "Those little cues that let me know you're almost there. Are you almost there, Clary? Are you going to come for me?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, she threw her head back, crashing down around him and milking his fingers. He continued his movements as she rode out the wave, only removing his hand once she was stable again.

"Hands on the wall, baby," he said, his own hands going to her hips.

She followed directions, placing her hands on the cold tile. He lifted one of her legs and placed it on the shower ledge before pushing into her from behind.

After their shower, they laid in bed together, Jace on his back with an arm around Clary and her head resting on his chest.

"Are we going to have to worry about Jonathan forever?" she asked quietly, tracing patterns on his bare skin. "Camille is still out there. Is there always going to have to be someone watching my mom? Will we ever be able to let our guards down?"

Jace ran his hand up and down her arm. "Not forever, no. We're working on taking down his associates. He's already given us some names. Those people will give us more names in return for other favors. And so on until we have all of them safely behind bars."

"How long will that take, though? Months? Years?"

He sighed, kissing the top of her head. "There's no saying. But I promise nothing will happen to you or your mother."

"Do you think he's right?" Her voice was barely audible.

"About what?"

"About me being just like him?"

"Do you think he was right?" Jace countered.

"I dunno. I lashed out at him. I hit him. I threatened to kill him. What if it's genetic? What if I can't escape it and it's just sitting dormant below the surface for now?"

Jace tightened his hold on her. "Yes, you lost your cool, but everyone does at some point. We both know I do it all the time. And sometimes, that means acting out physically like you did. You threatened him, but you did that to protect the people you love. He hurts people just to hurt them. You are nothing like your brother, or your father, and you never will be."

His words were reassuring, and she pressed her lips to his chest.

"I love you, you know?" she yawned.

He chuckled. "I do know. I love you, too. We might not have had the best start, but I'll always be here to protect and love you."

"Forever?" she asked, her eyes slipping closed.

"Forever."

I haven't thought about this story in forever, but people keep asking about it. I couldn't find any good inspiration for an ending, but I at least wanted to try to tie up some of the loose ends and provide a little bit of closure.