Disclaimer: Cassie owns Jace and Valentine, but I own Ilene :D
Chapter Five: Shattered
Jonathan couldn't keep track of how many days it had been since he had last seen his father. It could have been weeks for all he knew.
Ever since the first time his father left him with Ilene, almost a year ago, he dreaded the moment when he would wake up and his father wouldn't be there. That first time, he had only been gone a week. One week seemed much longer to a three year old.
Jonathan was not three anymore. He had just turned four and if it wasn't for Ilene, he would have forgotten his own birthday. His birthday, without his father, would have been like any other day if he didn't have Ilene as his servant.
Ilene had gone to the trouble to bake a cake, and make him a gift.
"What's this," Jonathan asked holding the neatly wrapped package in his small hands.
"Open it," Ilene murmured, smiling.
Days after his birthday, Jonathan had managed to realize that his father wasn't coming home soon. Looking down at the small toy soldier, he began to admire Ilene's handwork. The features were so remarkable. Even the little sword, itself, had advanced patterns. Ilene must have worked really hard on it, and because of his bitter disposition, he didn't give the proper appreciation for it.
Walking out of his room, holding the wooden toy in his hand, he began to search for Ilene.
Over the past year, they had gotten close. Ilene would make his meals - oh, they were even better than the chef's food. Ilene would nurse him back to health when he was sick, though the medicine tasted bitter and he tried his best to avoid taking it. Ilene would also tutor him in his assigned work that his father left him.
Jonathan wondered if his father left him with Ilene so that she could teach him the fundamentals so when he came back, he would be easier to train as a Shadowhunter. That was just a theory that he hoped for. He wouldn't think about if his father never came back. The thought hurt too much.
If his father was there more, Jonathan wouldn't be close to Ilene at all. It was the only good thing that happened when he was away.
Whether his father was here or not, Jonathan still had nightmares. Some of which cause screams that would wake him up in the late hours. One in particular was one about being trapped in the darkness.
In the dream, Jonathan was locked in a room that was as dark as midnight. He couldn't even see his hand in front of him. Trying to suck it up, he dealt with the fear. It wasn't until he saw a crack on the roof that he realized it was light outside.
In his haste to find something to throw in order to bring the light in the room, he tripped over something. The creature moaned in protest, causing Jonathan to jump away in fright. He knew then he wasn't alone in the dark.
Once realization hit, the light flooded the room. Grisly, tortured creatures were crawling towards him and it only took a second for him to see that there was no door and that he was trapped.
His screams woke him. They also woke Ilene. Within moments, her comforting arms were around him as she whispered reassurances.
That was the first time Jonathan really connected with Ilene. And since then, though neither ever talked about it, they had grown to be close friends.
It was shouts coming from the library that pulled him from his thoughts. "Ilene?" Jonathan called out.
The shouts continued, followed by a deafening crash. The library door flung open, out running Ilene, her hand to her bleeding face.
"Ilene!" Jonathan cried, running to her side. But Ilene wouldn't look at him. She just sobbed and pushed past him.
Just as he was about to follow her, he heard his name called from the room. Without the muffling of the door, he finally knew who was in the library with Ilene. The person was his father.
Jonathan didn't know whether to run to his father and cling to him for dear life or to not go in the room at all. Ilene needed comfort, but he wasn't going to disobey his father's orders.
Nervously, he walked into the room, carefully slipping Ilene's present in his pocket. A few specks of blood on the carpet floor were beside a broken vase. Standing next to the grand piano, sipping on a glass of wine, was his father looking as stern as ever.
"Father?" Jonathan asked. "Y-you're home."
Instead of replying, his father continued his drink until there was nothing left. Tightly he twisted his figures around the thin glass, and threw it against the wall.
Jonathan jumped back, staring at his father incredulously. "W-why did you?" He wasn't asking about the glass, he was asking about what happened to Ilene. But his father continued to ignore him before pacing back and forth across the room as if he were looking for something.
"Where is it," his father exclaimed, suddenly furious.
Jonathan rushed over to his father's side, in hopes to aid him. Though the fear was still relevant in his mind, his father needed help. "Father, what are you looking for? Maybe I can help-"
The blow caused Jonathan to fall back onto the jagged shards from the broken glass, cutting deep into his skin. Before he could whimper a sign of pain, his father shouted loudly, "I do not need help, Jonathan. I know what I am doing!"
Jonathan couldn't look at him, which only added to his father's fury. Yet he didn't hit the boy again. Instead, he knocked a whole shelve of books onto the floor in the midst of his anger.
Catching his breath, his father tried to calm down. That is, until he saw a small wooden toy on the ground beside Jonathan's wounded figure.
"What is this?" His father spat, picking up the toy.
Jonathan didn't answer, just looked away, betrayal still etched on his face. His father wasn't having any of that. He reached over and picked his son up by the front of his shirt.
"Answer me when I ask you a question," he didn't yell it. He spoke the words calmly which only added to the fear they brought on.
Jonathan spoke softly, "Yes father. It was a gift from Ilene." He didn't have time to protest when his father picked up the small Shadowhunter in his newly freed hand and crushed it without a second thought.
His father stood up, wiping his hands on his suit, looking calm at last. "My boy, you do not need little things like that. Unimportant trinkets suck as this are a distraction from your true proposes, like learning and becoming the best future warrior you can be. Plus, you don't want something from a thief."
Jonathan exclaimed, "Ilene is not a thief!"
Jonathan soon regretted his words as another blow from his father's hand swept across his face.
"I go away for a few months, leaving you with her," he spat the word as if it were a curse word. "And you think it is alright to talk back to me. Well Son, a few changes are going to happen around here." A slight grin appeared, and he shouted, "Excuse me, could I get some help around here?"
Within seconds a scrawny man appeared at the doorway. "Yes, Master Wayland. What is it you need?" Jonathan held his bleeding arm to his chest, trying to fight the urge to cry out.
His father looked at him then back to the servant, "See to my son's wounds, and then escort him to bed. And be sure that Ilene is gone before I come back." He walked past the servant quickly, slamming the door on his way out.
AN: Hey guys, glad you didn't give up on me! The end of summer and the beginning of school was just insane and I had minor writers block. I couldn't figure out how to do the ending of this chapter. As you can read, I finally got it done. I did however, in my absence, write a short story called "Lucy" that has nothing to do with the MI but I'm really proud of. If you want to read it, go to and search for v_writes. Its my one and only story there so far. Also follow my twitter, link is on my profile, and you will have updates on Hand of Sorrow and future stories I will write. Lastly, reviews make my heart smile :)