A/N: Heyy guys I am so sorry I haven't posted in ages. I've been procrastinating... a lot, but yeah, sorry *hides*

Chapter 42: Tough experiences in life are what make us girls prettier!

Jem's POV:

About an hour after meeting the officers, everyone was finally allowed to leave. Jem, Will and Jace were about to reach the tall arched gates that lead to the front of the school when a black Mercedes stopped in front of them. Jace immediately recognised the car and gave a small smile as the ignition was turned off and Alec stepped out of the door.

"Hey guys," Alec said trying to sound at least a bit happy but it wasn't hard to hear the deep sadness in his voice. Jace walked up to Alec and gave him a short hug before replying, "Hey man,"

"How'd you know?" Will asked not un-harshly. "Word travels fast," Was all that Alec replied but it didn't take Jem long to work out who told him.

"So Izzy, then?" Jem asked already knowing the answer to the question. "Yep," Alec responded, popping the 'p' as he spoke. "I'm actually just here to collect her; she said she didn't want to drive home,"

They nodded in understanding knowing that Izzy was going to have a hard time without Cris and that tensions would definitely be high.

At that their thoughts were proven true as a very recognisable voice drifted towards them. "- and it's all your fault!" They heard Izzy scream as it sent shock waves throughout the whole school. "Speak of the devil," Jem heard Alec mutter under his breathe before abandoning his car and running off in the direction of the voice.

"Well let's go then" Jace told them before also running off. Will looked to Jem and the same time Jem looked to Will. As if speaking telepathically they both stared at each other for a few seconds before rushing to follow the boy and the man.

When they finally got to the scene they saw a very pissed looking Izzy glaring holes into a frightened Clary and an over-whelmed looking Tessa. "If you two could get over your stupid jealousy then maybe you could've realised that they would never cheat on you and that Cris would never do that to you, even if she did like Will or Jace in that way. Which, by the way, it is obvious that she only sees them as more than slightly annoying brothers!" Izzy spat out the words, and Jem could almost see the venom in her words.

Jem had to think it was lucky that everyone went home quickly so that there was no one to watch this, as if there had there would be a hell of a crowd by now. Which by previous experiences, wouldn't have ended well for those onlookers who decided to be nosy at that point in time.

All Jem, Will and Jace could do was watch as Izzy continued her full blown rant.

"We might never see her again and can you guess what her lasting impressions of us will be. I bet she feels betrayed and god damned hurt because Cris thinks we think of her as a whore!"

Jem flinched slightly at her choice of words and at that moment the three girls noticed the four were watching them. Izzy's eyes softened slightly at the sight of the brother but the pure anger that flickered like flames never left her iris. Her eyes had gone from a dark brown to a pure black that only happened when she was extremely upset. And angry, but she's always a little angry.

Nevertheless the moment Izzy looked away and back on Clary and Tessa, it was obvious the boy's presence meant nothing.

"She could still be there with us now, not having been kidnapped by her maybe brother, in some godforsaken place. ANYTHING could be happening to her!" Izzy paused from shouting to take a deep breath, almost as if to calm herself down. They couldn't say anything, any calming words would be lost on her and any reinsurance would only make her anger grow.

When Izzy spoke next her voice was small, and if anyone didn't know better, vulnerable. "But you guys don't care, do you? All you care about is yourself-"

"Izzy, that's enough," Jace said quietly as he went to stand behind Clary and Will took Tessa's hand and brought her closer to his body.

Isabelle didn't listen to him though and then started to take her anger out on Jace himself. "Of course, you side with Clary! I should have known although who was there for you when you had no one else, when you didn't even know you were a Herondale and you thought you were a Wayland. But you didn't call yourself a Wayland, you called yourself a Lightwood! I was your sister, Jace, and what you seem to forget is I still am! I was there for you Jace, when you needed it most, and you used to be there for me, no matter how I acted or what I was feeling, you used to be there. Not only for me but for Cris as well,"

When she finished, she had tears streaming down her face. The fact that she never cried, whether in front of people or not, was shocking enough but she openly admitted, what she would call, weakness was something else altogether.

Alec, then being the only one that could actually move in that moment, and pulled Izzy into a hug, where his arms wrapped around her, enveloping her into Alec's black, baggy jumper; that had a few holes in it. She clutched at the back of his jumper, scrunching the fabric up in her hands and buried her head into the crook of his neck as her body shook with small sobs.

Jem honestly didn't know what to do with himself, whichever way he looked at it he would feel awkward; he would comfort Tessa or Clary, mainly because he couldn't help but feel bad for her, but being the third wheel was not something Jem wanted to do. He would comfort Izzy but then he would feel bad about leaving Tessa and Clary.

So standing in the middle, feeling awkward and out of place, seemed like the best option to not annoy anyone. It was moments like this he needed Cris by his side. Not only would the whole situation have been avoided but he needed her and her dry humour to make everyone forget what happened.

Jem sighed in annoyance. It was my fault, if I hadn't been so naïve, so weak, she would still be here… with me

Snapping out of his thoughts he realised that someone had put their hand on his shoulder. When the blurriness left his eyes, he was looking straight in to the piercing blue of Will's eyes. He was staring at Jem sadly as if he was sympathetic.

He was suddenly filled with anger and confusion; why is he sympathetic?! He lost her too, we all lost her; does he not care? His sister is gone and he's acting like it's my loss alone. As if he didn't lose her too!

Jem looked down, as if to control himself, then noticed Will's hand tightly gripping Tessa's. Abrupt anger flared up in Jem, he had not felt a sudden surge of anger in a long time and although he didn't like the feeling; he didn't have it in himself to care at that moment and the overwhelming anger controlled him.

Is he doing this for Tessa? Is he not caring for Cris because Tessa believed Cris slept with Will?

That thought alone made the fire, of his anger inside him, spark and rise.

Jem hated feeling this way, often with more hate than the thing that angered him, in the first place. This time it was different. Jem couldn't help but feel irritated at his best friend.

Jem didn't want to be angry with Will. If anything he wanted to be annoyed at Cris. For the way she made him feel like this; feel anger at anyone who dare doubt or demean her, feel jealous at anyone who can be closer to her than he, himself, is, feel the erratic beat of his heart whenever she enter the same room, feel flushed whenever she speaks his name.

Feel a warm sensation tingle through his veins when their skin makes contact.

Jem knew Will often hid his own feelings but at that moment it didn't seem as if he had any, when staring into the depths of his blue eyes. He shook Will's hand off of his shoulder and turned away from him unable to look at him anymore. The only thing Jem could do was walk away from them. But he knew he couldn't walk away from everything.

But it's worth a try.

When Jem turned around to walk away from them, leaving only the feeling of eyes boring into the back on his head. Silence shrouded the area as he kept on walking, it was heavily filled with shock and the only thing you could hear was the soft sound of Izzy sniffing.

Cris' POV:

Cris woke up in the same place where she was left, still chained up on the wall. The pain in her leg was barely recognisable compared the flames of pain that scorched her back. The lashes she had taken considerably lowered not only her immune system but her morale as well. As much as Cris didn't want to admit it, after about ten strikes, tears had fallen down her cheeks, much to her 'father's' delight.

Cris didn't want to believe this man, this monster, was actually her father. She didn't want to believe that she was in any way related to the sadist that found pleasure in torturing his own children.

Her vision was still slightly distorted form the unshed tears, that still clouded her eyes. Not that it would have made a difference; the only thing Cris could see was the wall, and it wasn't the most interesting thing to look at, since she couldn't turn her body due to the tight restraints and the lack of energy made it hard for Cris to keep her head up never mind try to turn it so she could see what was behind her. Cris found herself relying on her other sense as her sight was fairly poor at the moment.

So when she heard the soft sound of the door slowly opening and the resulting light footsteps trailing down the stairs, she had a little time to hastily wipe her wet cheeks on the torn mess that was her school shirt.

Not bothering to turn her head to check who it was, as she wouldn't be able to see the person anyway and it would only cause her pain, she kept her gaze on the grimy wall a few inches from the tip of her nose. Cris had to resist the increasing urge to vent her curiosity to see who was behind her and it only became worse when she heard a slightly heavier set of footstep trailing down the stairs.

Her head lifted up slightly as if to show the heavier set of feet that she was not weak, when, in fact, she was so close to breaking down again.

No longer able to gather the position of the lighter person, as the sound of the second pair drowned the quieter person out, Cris was only able to give a vague guess, until someone gave a sharp gasp, a few metres away from her. Cris resisted the urge to hide herself from view but she knew it was impossible to even try as she was chained in the middle of the first wall, you would see when walking into the room. It was almost as if she was some kind of rare, expensive painting that Meredydd wanted to show off to everyone who glanced upon the room.

A dark, disgusting, destroyed painting at that, she thought grimly.

"Stop gawking and clean her up already!" She heard Rhys almost shout, the vibrations hitting her ears with such a force it made her head ache. As if seeing Cris wince slightly, he continued in a slightly lower tone, "If you don't do it quickly, she'll get an infection,"

Cris could hear the remorse in his voice and the slight urgency that came with force. Knowing that Rhys couldn't have done anything to stop the onslaught of lashings from his father, didn't do much to quell the slight hatred that flared inside of her.

Suddenly, a strong hand grasped her wrist and Cris looked up to see Rhys undoing one of her shackles. When done, he immediately set to work with the other one while her free arm flopped to the ground where the blood was finally allowed to run through her veins properly. She was eventually free from the harsh restraints and although she wanted to run for the high hills, all she could do was fall to the floor in exhaustion.

Before she could hit the floor Rhys managed to catch her arms before her shredded back could come into contact with the floor and gently turned her so that she could carefully lay her face down on the floor. When having done so, she gently pried stands of her matted, blood stained hair away from her back, so one of the servants he brought with him could try to disinfect and bandage the several wounds that littered her back.

He proceeded to clean the ends of her dark locks with a damp cloth while the servant tried to dab the antiseptic on her back without hurting her any further. Although that was all well and good, Cris was already in extortionate pain due to the antiseptic, never mind the sheds of loose skin that hung limply from her back that the servant attempted to place back in their original positions, so they could heal correctly.

Once they were done her back was clean and bandaged, her hair was now free of blood and Cris was barely conscious due to the extreme pain she had just endured. Rhys was left to ponder how they would get her to her room without harming her further. Through half-lidded eyes Cris could make out being lifted up so that one of her arms lied across Rhys' and the servant's shoulders.

This meant that Cris had to try to use her legs and she just managed to drag them out of the dull room and into the bright, elaborate sets of corridors and stairs, which she trailed up in order to get to 'her' room. Of course everyone in the house, that they passed and felt the need to talk to (well, Cris didn't do any talking but they all seemed excited to see her and have her 'back home', whatever that meant) insisted that this was her bedroom and that she once inhabited it when she was very young.

It wasn't hers though. Nothing in this house was. She had her own bedroom, her own home, her own family. And these people were not it. Neither was she there right now.