HELLO MY FAITHFULS! So first things first, I am now obsessed with Grey's Anatomy. Like seriously, the show is so great. On season 6, and LOVING it. Anyways, back to the story. I really think you guys will like this. A lot. I was crying and playing Gravity on a loop as I wrote it. Yeah, I'm a cryer. Deal with it ;) SO ON WITH THE READING!

JACE POV

"Thank you for not asking." Were the words Clary first whispered when the second episode of Sherlock ended. Ms. Fray and Luke were both asleep on the other couch, so it was just me and Clary. I didn't know what to say, because I was scared that anything I would blurt out would be a question. She didn't want questions, "Come with me." She murmured, rising to her feet. I automatically followed her into her room, and she shut the door behind us.

My eyes widened a fraction, but I knew she didn't want to do anything. That didn't change my initial thoughts. I reminded myself of the situation, and the second I looked into her eyes, all bad thoughts fled. I couldn't break our connected gazes. My lips parted, but no words came out. She took a deep breath, then sat down on the bed, patting the space next to her. I followed her unspoken request.

There was silence.

"Do you remember when I went to London a couple years ago?" Her voice was so soft that I could barely hear it. I didn't know how this was related, though. Maybe she was changing the subject to cope. It was something I would do, so I couldn't fault her. Still, I wanted to be careful, because the wrong words might send her back to the place she had been. I nodded.

"I didn't actually go to London." She whispered, and her entire body began to shake. Her quiet words reached my ears. I tilted my head as a cue to continue. She took in a deep breath, closing her eyes. When she opened them, I saw so much more than she was saying. There was fear and sadness and hurt.

"Where were you?" I asked after another minute of silence, and I tried to keep my voice gentle, tried to not sound curious. That was when her eyes watered. She closed them again, probably trying to chase away the tears, but we both know that wouldn't happen. Her hard swallow was visible, and I could almost see the war raging in her mind.

"I was at the hospital." She said so fast and soft that I almost didn't catch it. I opened my mouth to speak, then promptly shut it, because I had no idea what speaking would do to her. So I didn't say a thing. She would talk when she was ready. It took her a minute. Her muscles were tensed, as if she was ready to run at any given moment.

Then she lifted her shirt just high enough to reveal a deep scar. My jaw dropped, and my eyes widened. It wasn't small either. After a second, she let it drop. I tore my eyes away from where the scar had been, then stared into her own. Again, it took a while before she went on.

"My father..." She trailed off, clenching and unclenching her fists, a nervous habit that she'd always done, "He wasn't the nicest person." She laughed without humor. It was a dark sound that I wished I could take away. There were so many unspoken emotions in it, but despite how curious I was, I didn't comment, "Do you ever wonder why I spent so much time at your house?" I nodded automatically.

"My house wasn't home." She shook her head, obviously gaining the strength she needed. "He was smart, though. Never bruised where anyone could see it." A feeling of dread rose up in me, because I had a general idea of what had happened. "Alcohol and broken bottles were his poison." Her tremors got worse. "And..." She trailed off, and that was when the tears began to fall. My chest was so tight that I could barely breathe, but I needed her to go on.

"The night before I 'left for London'," She was at the point of hyperventilating, but she powered through, "He went too far. He absolutely hated me, so..." Deep breath, "He grabbed a kitchen knife. I expected a cut. Instead, he..." Deep breath, "He stabbed me in the stomach, then walked out of the house and never came back. I was left to die, to bleed out. If Simon hadn't walked in for a movie marathon..."

She didn't have to say the next part. I didn't want her to say the next part, because I already knew. Hearing it come from her mouth would make things all too real. Then, the images began to flash through my mind. I could picture it vividly. I could imagine her face when the knife sunk in. I could imagine her on the floor, a pool of read soaking her shirt and forming a puddle around her. I could imagine her in a hospital bed. I could imagine her in more pain than I could even fathom.

When I finally drew myself back to the present, I saw her. Her head was down, hair falling around her like a curtain, but I knew she was crying by the way her shoulders shook. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap.

I had no idea what to do. Touching her might bring back memories, the nightmares she had most likely about this. What I didn't expect was for her to look back up at me, emerald eyes shining with the tears that ran down her cheeks like rivers. There was a question in them that I couldn't quite decipher, but I tried the only thing that might work in some universe.

I opened my arms.

To be honest, I was ready for her to shy away and curl into herself. That didn't happen. Instead, she leaned into me, resting her head on my chest. I wrapped one arm around her, the other hand coming up to stroke her hair. That was when she started sobbing, so I hugged her tighter, hoping that I could somehow squeeze out the sadness, the horror.

All of a sudden, the door to my her room opened. Apparently, it was a day of surprises, because it wasn't Ms. Fray or Luke standing there. It was Isabelle. We both stared at each other in total shock. Then, I must have adopted a deer in the headlight expression on my face, because she narrowed her eyes. Her gaze was locked with mine, so I knew she hadn't looked down.

"What are you doing here?" She practically hissed, "She doesn't need you to break her right now, and..." Her voice trailed off as she finally saw that Clary was in my arms, and her lips parted in shock, "Clary?" The name came out like a question, but the redhead still lifted her head to look at Izzy. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her breaths were shaky.

She offered Iz a smile that we all knew was fake.

"I'm fine." She croaked, clearly not fine. Both Izzy and I stared at her, our gazes communicating that we didn't believe her. Clary sighed, and she looked like she was collecting herself. Then, she looked next to us on the bed. She grabbed the teddy bear I had given her, hugging it with all her might.

"Where did you get that?" Iz tried for a subject change. I felt my cheeks begin to heat up, and I knew I was blushing, so I dropped my head, attempting to hide it. But it was too late. "Jace gave this to you?" The surprising note to her tone was obvious, and I swallowed hard, wondering how slow my death would be.

"His name is Sergeant Cuddles." Were Clary's first words, "He's a soldier. He'll chase away the nightmares." Finally, I lifted my head, only to find that Isabelle's jaw had dropped. Her eyes flicked between me and Clary, as if she didn't know what to say. Actually, that was the exact reason she was speechless, because she was always spoke her mind.

I realized then that my arms were still around Clary, and she seemed to have the same realization, because we both separated at the same time. She began to retreat into herself again, so Izzy walked over and sat down on her other side.

"Hey." She said softly, then sighed when she got no response, "I would ask if you were okay, but that's clearly not the case." To my surprise, that earned a tiny, fleeting twitch of Clary's lips. "Can I hug you?" The question was barely heard, and Clary tensed up for a second. But ever so slowly, she leaned into Isabelle, who wrapped her arms around her. They stayed like that for what had to be a full minute, and her shaking began to fade.

"Do you mind if I talk to Jace quick?" Iz asked, "It won't take long. We'll be right back." Clary narrowed her eyes slightly, and I could tell a bit of her fire was coming back. She assessed Isabelle, which almost seemed like she was digging into Izzy's soul.

"Okay." Her voice was slightly scared, but I could hear some of her strength returning. Isabelle smiled at her and nodded, but when she looked at me, her gaze was far more threatening, "Outside." Was all she said, then walked out of the room. I followed.

As soon as we were in the living room, she stood in front of me, staring me down, much like Clary had done with her. I didn't know what she was trying to find, but when she did, she sighed, shaking her head. Then, she looked up at the ceiling, probably praying for my demise.

"How did you do it?" She asked with a sigh. I tilted my head in confusion, even though I knew exactly what she meant. My plan was to play stupid, but her expression said that she didn't believe me in the slightest. My mouth opened and closed as I tried to think of a half-truth.

"Sherlock." I finally blurted out. She raised an eyebrow, "I swear it." She blinked wordlessly, then sighed again.

"How long?" Isabelle questioned without any explanation. I hoped my face conveyed my lack of understanding, because I had no idea what she was talking about. She looked at me like I was an idiot, but I couldn't be blamed. There was absolutely no context. "How long have you had feelings for her?" My mouth opened and closed as I searched for some form of denial, but I was too shocked to form words. She crossed her arms over her chest, giving me that look. The look that said she was picking up all my secrets.

'I don't have feelings for her." I finally said, but my voice came out shaky, and even I wouldn't have believed myself. Her eyes turned to slits, and I flinched, waiting for my impending doom. But it didn't come. Instead, her shoulders slumped in what looked like a show of defeat, "You aren't going to yell at me?" My tone was cautious, because I felt like one wrong thing would bring everything crashing down.

"No." Was the simple word that came out of her mouth. There was a minute of silence. Complete and total silence. I had no idea what to say, so I kept my jaw locked tight before I could spill out anything bad. She huffed, "You brought her Sergeant Cuddles, as in a cheesy stuffed bear with a cheesy backstory. And you were practically cuddling her." A laugh escaped her, "You're whipped." And then she just had to add, "You're blushing."

"I am not blushing." I growled indignantly, "Men do not blush."

Her eyebrow rose past her hairline, which clearly communicated her disbelief. Like the mature person I am, I stuck my tongue out at her. Like the mature person she is, she threw it right back at me. Suddenly, I felt lighter, like a weight lifted off of my chest. And Isabelle hadn't bitten my head off. Actually, even though she would never admit it, she seemed a tiny bit happy.

And after weeks of burying myself in denial, I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"I'm falling in love with her." I hadn't necessarily permitted the words to tumble out of my mouth, but they did. I hoped that it would help my case, because I'd never ever dreamed I would say those words. At least not in high school. And definitely not to Clarissa Adele Fray.

"You've passed the point, Jonathan Christopher Lightwood." Isabelle snorted, and I was astounded by how okay she was with this. She was talking so lightly, "Now go back in there and be with your girlfriend." My cheeks were on fire at that point, so I mumbled something intelligible. She smirked, then shooed me back into Clary's room. I gave her a slightly odd look, "I'll come back later."

"Wait!" I yelled when she started to turn the doorknob. She stopped, turning her head to face me. I took a minute to gain the courage, but I was spurred into action when she cracked the door open. "Does she feel..." I took my umpteenth deep breath. Izzy gestured for me to continue, "Does she feel the same way?" I expected a hard pass, but I didn't get an answer.

All I got in return was a wink and a wave.

And then she was gone.

CLARY POV

Right when Jace and Isabelle left the room, I started to tense up. I closed my eyes, breathing in and out. In and out. In and out. When I started to calm down, I opened my eyes. Then, I listened. I strained my ears, trying to hear the conversation, but for once I was mad that my walls were thick.

Great for blasting music.

Not great for eavesdropping.

After a minute, I huffed, attempting to distract myself with other things. At first I was able to think about what I wanted to draw next, but that slowly ebbed away. The flashes of memories were leaking back in, and I couldn't seem to stop it. My calm was giving way to panic as I started to hyperventilate. I reached blindly around me, hoping that Jace would miraculously appear so I could grab his hand.

He didn't.

But all of a sudden, my fingers brushed something soft. I was longing for anything at that point, so I gripped the soft thing. When I cuddled it to my chest, something struck me. It was something familiar that smelled like... mangos? My vision started to clear, and I realized what I was holding.

It was Sergeant Cuddles.

A shaky laugh escaped me, because Jace was right. It did chase the nightmares away. Sergeant Cuddles was an amazing soldier, my soldier. I held it in front of me, arms outstretched so I could see all of him. That was when I noticed the purple heart on his chest. That was also when I realized that I didn't have my heart.

Because when Jace walked in, I knew I'd put it in his hands.

Yes, this was a bit short, but it got to the point and said what needed to be said. How did you guys like it? I love the fact that Izzy was implying things. And how she realized Jace is (maybe) in love with Clary. Interesting...

So the question of the chapter is for all you Grey's Anatomy fans: McDreamy or McSteamy?

I hope you guys have a wonderful time until I update again! You all are awesome. Thank you so much for your support and amazingness. Love you all!

Sincerely,

Shadowhunter5801