A/N: Okay, so I actually used the Shadowhunter's Codex for the fighting scene in this one, and I'm pretty damn proud of myself. This is last chapter from Julian's perspective, as requested by Emma Carstairs Blackthorn, thanks for the reviews! As for Diego and Diana, I don't think I'll be writing the story from their perspective. The "matters to discuss" were really just to get Mark and Cristina alone, teehee. Anyway, that was waaayy too long an introduction, so I'll get right onto it, please enjoy! :)

Guilt (Part 2)

A Blackstairs fanfic, by OTP-addict

"You're sure it's here?" Emma asked.

Julian rolled his eyes. "Yes, for the last time, I'm sure," he said. "Let's just wait and see if anything shows up."

Emma heaved a great sigh and sat down right on the grass of the lawn they were standing on. They were outside what looked like an abandoned house–there were no lights on, the windows were boarded up, and the entire yard was devoid of life. Even the grass was a light brown color and crunchy as Julian sat down next to Emma.

He sneaked a glance at her face, which showed her immense boredom. Of course she had expected to be fighting demons by now. Julian sometimes wondered if she would have gotten herself killed by now if she hadn't had him to keep her in check.

But right now he wondered if she thought she was actually convincing him that she loved Mark. When you spend the majority of your life deceiving people–like Julian did–you learn to detect deception. He had seen the way Emma sometimes leaned just a tiny bit away from Mark when he tried to kiss her cheek–such a small thing that no one else would notice it. Or the way she seemed to never actually initiate physical contact of any kind between the herself and Mark. Julian knew that she didn't love Mark. But at this point he wasn't sure she loved him, her parabatai, either. That night, when she said all of those things, said that she didn't love him enough, he thought about it, and he realized that she had never actually said it. He had. He had many times. But Emma had not once said it.

"How long are we supposed to wait exactly?" Emma asked, impatience seeping into her voice.

Julian sighed. "I don't know, Emma."

"Are you okay?" Emma asked after a pause.

Julian turned to look at her. Her brows were knit together in a worried expression, and Julian fixed his face to be a perfectly blank canvas. "I'm fine," he said.

She didn't look convinced–with good reason. "Why don't I believe you?" she said.

"I don't know," Julian said sarcastically, "maybe because you've been doing a lot of lying yourself these past few weeks."

Emma's face turned as pale as if a bucket of white paint had been splashed right onto it.

They sat, looking at each other, for a while. Then a sound woke them from the trance. The sound of a dozen creatures scurrying across the ground.

"Demons!" Emma exclaimed in surprise, but Julian heard the excitement in her voice. She drew Cortana and ran for the sound.

As Julian picked up his crossbow, they appeared. At least fifteen Drevak demons headed straight for Julian and Emma, their insectile legs dragging their shapeless bodies. Before Julian had even started in their direction, Emma had cut down two. Just as one was sneaking up on her behind her back, Julian let an arrow fly from the now loaded crossbow. It sailed through the air and buried itself deep into the body of the Drevak, which collapsed. Emma was slicing through the demons like a chef slicing onions.

Then suddenly a Drevak latched onto Cortana and ripped it out of Emma's grip. The short sword flew off in another direction as Emma reached for a seraph blade, naming it "Thaharial."

Julian shot several other demons with the crossbow and ran to aid Emma. But when he stopped in front of her and pierced the last demon with his dagger, she was clutching her forearm.

"Let me see," Julian commanded.

"It's nothing," Emma insisted.

He reached out a hand. "Let me see," he said again, more forcefully this time.

She held her arm out. There were several puncture wounds from the spines of the Drevak's mouth.

Crap, Julian thought. Poison. He took out his stele.

"Julian, healing runes don't work on poison," Emma said, "we can call on a Silent Brother–"

"It worked the last time, didn't it?" he said, and Emma fell silent. He reached for her arm and started drawing. When the rune was finished it emitted a faint glow, and Emma tensed up.

But it wasn't nearly as bright as the rune that she had given him when he had been shot by Diego.

"Thanks," Emma said. "Let's go." She headed for the Toyota, picking up Cortana on her way, and got in the driver's seat.

Does it mean what I think it means? Julian asked himself. Did Emma love him less than she used to?

When they arrived at Mark's and Cristina's location, they found them standing in front of each other, Cristina with her stele out. Emma ran to Cristina's side, and Julian noticed that she didn't even look at Mark–judging by his expression, Mark noticed too.

"Are you okay?" Emma asked.

"We're fine," Cristina said, sounding like she meant it just as much as Julian had when Emma asked him–which was not at all.