A/N: So, much to my surprise people want me to continue this. The one shot was cute, but it was lacking something essential. Like, I don't know, a plot. Once I created a plot soup, added some seasonings, and a hearty pinch of Jace, I came up with this. It's….much darker then I had intended, but for some reason all my stories end up that way. Oh well.

This plot soup is black, like my soul.

Hope you like!

"Dreams are like stars…you may never touch them, but they will lead you to your destiny."

-Anonymous

The pulse of the music was throbbing in her chest as she moved her way through the crowd. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and perfume, making it difficult to breathe. The crowd seemed to move as one, swaying and bending, their faces were alive and excited, almost glowing. The large room was hazy, filled with smoke from the machines, the strobe lights pulsated, casting an eerie glow on the faces of the Mundanes. Clary could feel a warm breeze from the industrial strength fan caress the back of her damp neck. Her skin was sticky with sweat, and the slight breeze was a relief. Her mind was unusually hazy, but not in an unpleasant way. She felt as if she wanted to stay here, forever, gently swaying with the music.

It seemed a regular night at Pandemonium.

Someone to her left--an unusually pale boy wearing a mesh wife beater and a dog collar--bumped her in the stomach. Something in her stirred, and she snapped out of her drug like trance, instantly panicked. Oh god, the baby. Her hands flew to her belly--and found it as flat as it had been when she was 16. Her brows furrowed, as she pulled up her shirt, exposing her pale, lightly freckled stomach. Flat-perfectly, flat. Absolutely no trace that she was pregnant whatsoever. She could feel the heavy weight of the fog in her head threatening to pull her down again, she fought against it this time, but it was overpowering.

She looked up, as if someone around her would explain what had happened, but was startled to see that the club was empty. Vacant. The sight of it was eerie, as if the life had been sucked out of it, and all that was left was the crumbling shell. She whipped around, looking for something--anything that would explain what the hell was going on. Her heart thudded in her chest, and somewhere in the back of her mind she registered that the temperature had dropped considerably. Her breath appeared in front of her in white, panicked puffs.

But there was no one, nothing. Only the music and the pulsing lights surrounded her.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. And she found her hand automatically drifting to where weapons belt would be. Surprisingly, her fingers found purchase, and wrapped around the end of a dagger. She expertly twirled it in her hands, feeling slightly more comfortable. At least she had a chance to defend herself from…well whatever the hell was going on here.

"Clary." Her head snapped up, and a feeling of relief washed over her. She knew that voice, it was as familiar to her as her own. Jace was here, everything was going to be alright.

"Jace" She breathed, taking a step towards him "wha-what's going on here?" But something was wrong with him, his face was tight--tormented. A look she hadn't seen on it in many years. His eyes were panicked, and wild, darting back and forth. He was…frightened. It took a lot to frighten a man like Jace. Jace who was practically indestructible. Jace who had faced hordes of Demons. Who had slaughtered several dozen Forsaken with a pocketknife and his wit. He had nothing to fear. So what the hell was going on?

"Clary." He repeated, his voice was strangled. Clary swallowed compulsively, her grip tightening on the dagger. She could feel the cold metal of the hilt digging into her skin.

"The baby, Jace…I-I don't know what's going on." She said trying to keep her voice steady, but failing. It was difficult to speak coherently, had she been drugged?

"I'm so sorry, Clary. I'm so sorry." He said, taking several quick steps toward her. She wasn't exactly sure why, but she found herself taking as many steps back. Something about his frantic look was scaring her. His shoulders were stiff, and she could see the edges of his runes poking out from the collar of his black shirt. He was dressed in the soft black leather Shadowhunter attire, but was wearing no weapons. Not even his wrist cuffs…which drew her attention to his hands.

"Your hands, Jace…." She trailed off, her eyes locked on his strong hands, which were covered in some sort of shiny black fluid, that was leaving a dripping trail along the floor. The strobe lights were disorienting, he was there and then he was cast into shadow, completely invisible. She couldn't take her eyes off of his hands, the fluid was all the way up to his wrists, looking like shiny black gloves. Ichor…she thought for a moment. But no, it wasn't thick enough…God her brain was foggy. The more she looked--or stared--at it the more familiar the substance became. The way it dripped off of his fingertips and landed in large, almost audible splats on the floor. With a small gasp of horror she realized what it was.

Blood.

"Jac-" She started.

"I'm so sorry." He interrupted. "I had to do it. It was going to hurt you." he spoke quickly, his words melting into one another. His eyes still held the frantic look, but he wasn't holding her gaze, he was staring directly at her stomach. The way he had said 'it' was furious sounding, feral almost. Clary's chest was heaving, each breath an effort, the room was so cold, each inhale stabbed at her lungs with an icy knife. Why was her mind so fuzzy? It was like she was lost in a fog storm, she couldn't decide if she was more frustrated at herself, or scared of--no, for Jace.

"What was going to hurt me?" She asked, shaking her head slowly, as if to clear it. swallowed.

"The baby."

The baby? Automatically, she put her hand to her stomach, but it was wet-covered in warm, slick fluid. She looked down slowly, pulling her hand away. The front of her white shirt was drenched in blood. She could feel bile rise up in her throat. Why was she covered in her own blood? "I'm sorry." Jace repeated. Clary's eyes widened in horror as she finally made the connection. Jace's blood-soaked hands, were dripping with her blood. Her baby….what had he done to her baby?

A scream exploded from her mouth.

***

"Clary, Jesus--wake up!" Jace said, shaking her forcefully. He had been dead asleep when he noticed her writhing and trying to kick him in her sleep. And then she started screaming. If he wasn't so concerned, he would have been irritated. He never remembered her having nightmares before--well all Shadowhunters had nightmares, but none that were this--forceful.

For being so small she packed quite a kick. A stream of profanities came coursing out of his mouth as he clutched his shin. "Clar-ow, shit. Clary, honey, wake up." Her eyes snapped open, and he noticed that her eyes were brimming with tears, his throbbing shin was forgotten. Before he could react, she had thrown the covers off of her and her hands clutched at her belly. She sighed, looking relieved.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his forehead furrowed in concern. He gently put his hand on her arm, and noticed that she winced when he touched her. He reluctantly drew his hand back, feeling slightly hurt that she flinched away from his touch. She sighed again, and ran her hands through her hair distractedly. A habit she had picked up from him over the years.

"I-" She didn't finish her sentence. She had her face buried in her small hands. Her shoulders were rapidly rising and falling. "I don't know." She said finally, sounding out of breath. Jace was slightly relieved to hear her talking.

"Did you have a nightmare?" He asked gently, trying not to press her. His fingers twitched, aching to touch her, but he held back, not knowing if it would help his wife to do so.

She nodded.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" He asked, slightly curious as to what would frighten her so. She licked her lips, and sighed again.

"A demon attacked me." She said finally. "It was nothing."

"Nothing?" He asked incredulously. "I think you fractured my tibia. That most certainly was not nothing." She shook her head stubbornly, looking him directly in the eyes. A chill went through him, she wasn't looking at him like she usually did. It was like she was…calculating him in some way. As if she was debating something, weighing him in the balance.

"It was nothing." She repeated. And the look was gone, he wasn't even sure if he had seen it. Another sigh. "Really." Her eyes were soft again, loving. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to kick you." She said, holding out her arms so she could inspect him. He gently took her hands in his.

"Are you alright?" he asked again, pulling her toward him. This time she came to him, and Jace felt a wave of relief. The pang of fear was gone, replaced by one of curiosity. What was she dreaming about?

Clary settled herself into his strong arms, resting her head against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat was a lullaby, settling her. "I'm fine." She lied, glad her face was turned away from his, so that she couldn't see the look of concern in her eyes. "Honestly."

A/N: I think that I need to go back and maybe revise my first chapter to fit this story. Don't worry, I won't change too much.

Also I need a new name for this story, I think.

Also a new summary.

Also, review?