Summer Term

Summary: "...He's supposedly the hottie professor of the summer." "Ew, Izzy." "Don't tell me you wouldn't bang a hot professor."

Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its associated characters, places and events all belong to Cassandra Clare and the copyright holders. This is a non-profit fan work and no copyright infringement is intended.

Acknowledgement: This chapter would not have been possible without the help of one of my closest friends, ddpjclaf. Thank you so much for turning the crappyness this was before into something I was proud of. Also, thank you for... helping me through everything. You're the best. I love you. *muah*

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope y'all are having a fantastic summer. I apologize for disappearing off the face of the planet for a while. School and life and life and school got in the way. But I eventually got time to sit down and crank this chapter out. I won't say much more-since I think I've made you guys wait enough already-but, thank you so much for all your love and support. I'm so happy you guys are liking this story. Also, just to answer some of you guys that wondered if I intended on finishing this story: I do. But, I don't know how long it'll take me to do that. However, I do plan on finishing it.

**Trigger warning: this chapter contains material that may be a trigger for those who are sensitive to assault of a sexual nature.**

Chapter 7: A Mistake

Clary followed Jace inside his condominium. Even though she'd been there before, his home still amazed her. It was spacious and luxurious—not exactly a place where she pictured a single male living.

Jace dropped the bag containing the earrings he'd bought onto the couch. Clary set the pamphlet Miles had given her on the coffee table. She looked to the right, and something sparkling blue caught her eye, something she hadn't noticed the first time she'd been there. She wandered over to the large glass door and peered outside.

A pool. There was a full-sized pool just steps outside his door. It had to be a community pool, but… why was it attached to only his condo?

"A bit much, isn't it?"

Clary jumped at his voice, which came from right behind her. She turned to face him, frowning slightly when she saw him smirking at her.

"Is it just yours?"

Jace shrugged. "You could say that."

She furrowed her brows. "What do you mean?"

"The pool isn't mine. I mean I don't own this place. It was my father's. Is my father's," he repeated. His golden eyes hardened and he pursed his lips.

"Oh, does your dad still—"

"No. Let's go out to the pool. It's a nice day out anyway."

"Okay." Clary said, hesitating. She wanted to know what he'd meant about his father. She wanted to know what made his eyes so sad. She found herself wanting to know more and more about him, but she had so many questions about things he'd made clear he didn't want to talk about. It was starting to frustrate her how little she knew about everything.

"You can go out; I'll meet you there."

Clary nodded, wrapped her hand around the handle, and slid open the door. She stepped outside and slipped her flip-flops off before slowly making her way toward the pool. She carefully walked over to the ledge and sat down, dipping her legs in the water.

Clary looked at her reflection. Although she wore a smile—probably the after-effects of the kiss—her expression was withdrawn. She suddenly wasn't sure if she should be there. She wrapped her arms around herself. Her mind flashed images of Sebastian. Of his dark eyes looking over her hungrily, as if he were a predator and she were his prey. Of him sucking her skin so hard it hurt. She could still remember how he touched her—his fingers inside her—so possessive and aggressive that it made her shiver even in the burning heat.

God, what the hell had happened to them, to him? Why did he do that to her? Why was he acting the way he was? This wasn't the Sebastian she'd known, the one she'd loved. This wasn't the way they were together. She missed that—the them they were before. Why couldn't things have stayed that way?

But Clary also knew why. She'd left. She'd left California and left him behind. Maybe she shouldn't have. Maybe she should have just stayed— She stopped herself from thinking further about that. If she hadn't left California and hadn't gone to NYU, then she wouldn't be where she was right now. She wouldn't have met Jace.

She raised her hand to her mouth and sighed. She'd kissed him, and he'd kissed her back. Kissed her so softly. Not like he wanted to possess her, like Sebastian had, but like he just wanted her. Jace Herondale, the most beautiful male she'd ever laid eyes on, wanted her. Even his name was beautiful. Jace. Herondale. Also known as Mr. Herondale. Which was oh so sexy, but also... oh so wrong. Her heart tightened uncomfortably. Maybe she shouldn't have kissed him. Shouldn't have initiated it. But there was a part of her that didn't regret it.

Clary also knew part of the reason she'd kissed Jace was because of Sebastian. If it weren't for him, she wouldn't be feeling so broken, so lost, so hurt, and so—so angry. She dropped her hands to her lap and clenched them. Who the hell did he think he was anyway, barging into her house and holding her like he owned her? Clary didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve to be almost ra—she couldn't even complete the word in her thoughts.

"Hey," said Jace, pulling Clary to the present. He sat beside her, his legs in the water just like hers.

"Hi."

There was a long silence. Clary glanced up at Jace, but he wasn't looking at her. He was staring into the distance. He'd changed into swimming trunks and was without a shirt. Clary's cheeks heated and she turned away from him half-clothed body, focusing on the sparkling blue water in front of her instead. She hadn't realized he'd wanted to swim when he'd invited her out there. She didn't have a suit or anything…

But this was nice. The water felt good against her legs. Cool and refreshing. Although she wished she could jump in and swim laps around the pool, she couldn't. Even though her parents had coerced her into taking swimming lessons as a child, she'd cry every time the instructor told her to jump in the water. So just as any other child who didn't enjoy the activities he/she was forced into doing, she cried and cried until her parents gave up.

Clary sighed and moved her legs around, splashing some water at Jace, trying to get him to engage her, to at least look at her. But he didn't. He continued to look at anything but her. "Is something wrong?" she finally asked.

Jace was silent for a moment. "We shouldn't have done that."

Clary's stomach plummeted and she raised her gaze to his. "Should haven't done what?" Even though she had a feeling she knew what he was going to say.

"Kissed. It was a mistake."

Anger and hurt rushed through her, both with equal force. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to tell him that she didn't feel like it was a mistake—not to her. To her, it felt right.

But, at that moment she didn't want to talk about how Jace thought they shouldn't have kissed. She didn't want to talk about anything. She wanted to show him just how stupid she thought his thought was. So instead of talking it through with him, she lifted her hands and pushed him into the pool. Just as he started to fall, his arms flung out and his fingers hooked around her wrist, pulling her into the water with him.

Clary squealed as the cool water touched her skin. She flailed and kicked, reaching for the side of the pool, for Jace, for anything, but it was no use; she was going under. The last thing she heard was Jace calling her name as her face sunk beneath the surface, her body as heavy as a rock as she fell and fell and fell.

Fear clutched at her heart, and her stomach twisted in knots as she seemingly went deeper and deeper into the abyss. Clary thrashed her arms and legs more, trying to push herself up to the surface, with no luck. She struggled to keep her eyes open, and she quickly realized she was running out of oxygen. She held her breath and exhaled, watching the bubbles form in front of her. She clenched her eyes shut and pressed her lips together tightly to keep from inhaling. It felt like the water was swallowing her up and she had no choice but to surrender to it. She tried tried one more time to convince her arms and legs to push her upwards, but they were no use. They didn't know what to do. Her body started to give up, her limbs hanging limp. She was spiraling downwards and couldn't stop herself from breathing. The water rushed painfully inside, and Clary couldn't do anything to stop herself from giving in to the darkness closing in on her.

"Clary? Shit. Clary?"

Clary could barely hear Jace's worried voice. It sounded muffled, as if she were still underwater. It was more annoying than anything else at this point.

She wanted to say, "Yes, I'm fine. I'm great. I'm just pissed that you pulled me into the pool with you. And I almost drowned and could have died. But other than that, I'm doing just great." But she couldn't. It seemed like every cell in her body was filled with water. She willed her eyes to open, her hands to move, her mouth to speak, but her muscles weren't responding.

Clary felt Jace's hand push down on her chest, and liquid spewed from her mouth. Jace continued pressing down until the water seemed to finally leave her lungs. She was able to breathe more comfortably now.

She slowly opened her eyes. Her face was inches away from Jace's. Small rivulets of water ran down his blond hair as large drops clung to his long lashes. He regarded her with caution as he slowly removed his hands from her chest and let them hang at his sides. Clary bit her lip, and she noticed as his eyes dropped to her mouth. He swallowed before leaning away from her.

"You can kiss me," Clary whispered, words slipping out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying. Her cheeks flamed at her blatant statement.

Jace lifted his hand to tuck a curl behind her ear. "I was going to give you a mouth-to-mouth."

Clary shivered. She wasn't sure if it was from Jace's touch or the fact that her wet clothes were clinging to her skin uncomfortably. "I can pretend to be unconscious again and you can."

The corners of his mouth pulled up, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "I am so sorry." He reached over and held her hand, squeezing gently.

Her heart clenched at his words. "No, don't be. It was my fault. I shouldn't have pushed you."

He frowned and looked away, staring into the distance behind her. "It's still my fault. God, I shouldn't have pulled you in with me."

"Jace, stop. It's okay. It's not like you knew I couldn't swim," she said, sitting up. "See? I'm okay now." She willed him to look at her, to understand her, to believe her. Pursing her lips, she grabbed his jaw, forcing him to see her. When he eventually complied, Clary stood, and twirled.

"Clary—"Jace began, but she cut him off.

"Do you believe me now?" she asked, still spinning in circles.

"I really don't think you should do that." His tone was more stern now.

"Why?" She slowed to a stop, stumbling, and almost falling face-first onto the concrete. But the fall never came because Jace shot his hands out to grab her waist.

He pulled her close to him, her back flush against his chest. Her breaths came out short and quick as Jace leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"That's why."

Clary shivered.

"Let's go get you a towel."

She nodded as she pulled away and watched him retreat inside. Her mouth fell open into a small "o". Since she hadn't let herself look at him earlier, she made do now, especially since he wasn't there to make her feel embarrassed about staring at him.

He had a hot back. A very, very hot one. His broad shoulders and small waist made a nice V. Clary swallowed. She was sure her cheeks were the color of tomatoes. She silently kicked herself for not having a grip on her hormones as she eventually followed him inside.

Jace was bringing out a white towel when Clary walked into the living room. He still hadn't put on a shirt, and she was able to fully stare at him as he made his way to her. His body was just as she'd imagined it to be: all chiseled and toned biceps and abs. Clary was suddenly having trouble breathing and the room was 20 times hotter than it was before.

Jace cleared his throat, pulling Clary back to the present. "It's rude to stare," he said.

"I wasn't staring," she replied defensively. "Also, those," she pointed at the six-pack, "look fake."

Jace slowly moved toward her. "I can very much assure you these are real."

Clary backed away as he got closer and closer to her, until her back was flush against the wall. Jace stood in front of her, his fists gripping the towel so hard his knuckles matched its shade. His eyes wandered over her face briefly, lingering first on her eyes, then her nose, and then her mouth… and then he sucked in a sharp breath, averted his eyes, and thrust the towel out toward her.

Anger burned through her as she snatched the towel away and pressed it to her body. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her stomach. Clary gasped and clasped her hand over her navel, where the burning pain was localized. It hurt. It hurt so badly. Tears stung her eyes and her focus was getting blurry.

"Clary?" Jace asked, alarmed. "Clary, what's wrong?"

Clary shook her head, barely able to speak through the pain. "It hurts."

Jace pulled the towel away and placed his hands on her waist, then her hips, then her stomach. "Where does it hurt?" he asked.

"My piercing hurts," Clary whimpered.

He froze, his hands burning through the wet fabric covering her stomach. "What?"

"M-my piercing," she responded with short breaths.

Without warning, his arms went around her waist and he quickly swung her up bridal-style. He carried her over to the couch and set her down on the cushions, wet clothes and all. Once he had her situated, he turned around, reached over to the coffee table, and grabbed the pamphlet Clary'd dropped there earlier. He quickly scanned the entire brochure and, within moments, his eyes widened. "Damn," he said. "You weren't supposed to go in the pool." He stood abruptly. "Hang on just a second, all right? I'll be right back."

She barely responded before he was gone. Clary proceeded to lift the hem of her shirt to inspect the damage. She imagined the worst possible scenario: pus oozing from the hole, lots of redness, ripped piercing—and then she stopped herself. This wasn't helping her in the least. So without further ado, Clary raised the cloth, revealing the ring. Thankfully, there wasn't any pus, but it was red. Really, really red. And not very pretty in the least.

"Good, you already have that up," said Jace just as she was about to quickly pull down her shirt.

She looked up at him questioningly. "What are you talking about?"

Instead of explaining, he held up a translucent shot glass, with cloudy water in it. Jace brought the glass close to her stomach and immediately flipped it over, and placed it on her navel. Clary cringed at the warmth of the water, but the pain almost instantaneously ceased. He kept a hold on the vial so that it wouldn't fall over, and shook it every once in a while to swirl the liquid inside. Clary watched him as he repeated the steps, his eyes glued on her stomach, and never wavering. His gold hair was drying, and she noticed it had started to curl at the nape of his neck. Her eyes traveled down his broad shoulders, over his swollen biceps and forearms, and then down to his hands.

"Hey," Clary said softly.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, but didn't look up.

"Better." She paused. "Jace..."

"What?"

He still wasn't looking at her. Why wasn't he looking at her?

"Thank you."

"For what?" He lifted his head, his mouth pressed in a hard line. "For almost killing you?"

Clary sighed. "It wasn't your fault." Her eyes roamed over his face, taking in the flashing gold of his eyes, the angry flush in his cheeks, the soft, plumpness of his soft lips. He was so beautiful…

"Stop looking at me like that."

Clary blinked and moved her gaze back to his eyes. "Like what?"

"Like you want to kiss me. Like you want me to kiss you. I'm not going to, and you shouldn't either." His voice was harsh, and his fingers jerked the shot glass on her stomach rougher.

Clary's face flamed once more. "I wasn't—"

"Yes, you were." His voice lost some of its edge, and he grew quiet for a moment. "We're not going to do this, Clary."

"Jace—"

"After we're done with this, I think you should leave."

"But, Jace—"

"No, Clary. Don't. Don't give me excuses. Don't tell me it's okay when it's not. Because this..." he waved between them with his free hand, "Is not okay. It will never be okay."

"Will you listen to me, Mr. Herondale?"

He flinched. "No. I don't want to listen to you. I don't want to talk to you. It'd be best for the both of us if we acted like normal—"

"Normal?" Clary snorted. "I don't even know what 'normal' means." She sat up, almost spilling the water from the shot glass in the process.

Jace's hands shot forward but Clary pushed him away.

"You don't want me around? You don't want to admit that there is definitely something between us, then fine. Fine. But don't act all concerned and like you want to help me, then, okay? I don't need your damn help. I just want to know what suddenly changed your mind from when you kissed me back out there," she pointed toward the front door, "to now. Because you did kiss me back, Jace."

His face was free of any expression, and Clary's stomach clenched uncomfortably. If there was any part of Jace that truly made her afraid, it was this. It was him putting on a façade so she couldn't see what he truly felt. He'd done this to her before, when he'd turned into an asshole on the first day of class.

"Nothing has changed," he said, his voice flat and unfeeling. "I felt this way then too, you just had your tongue in my mouth and I sort of lost my train of thought. I am a man, after all."

Clary glared at him, too angry for words.

"There are too many things that make this a horrible idea, that make you and I being anything an impossibility. Things I don't want to discuss. Things I never want to discuss, especially with you."

"Like what?" she demanded. "I want answers. I want to know what happened between you and my father. I want to know what you meant about your father owning this place. I want to know why my father claims you're a murderer."

Jace flinched, hurt in his eyes, which was replaced with anger, and then once again, it was a clean slate.

"Please, just tell me. Maybe I can help—"

Jace laughed humorlessly. "You can help me? You don't want to get involved in this."

Clary gripped the glass in her hand harder. "This has to do with my mother. And somehow you, your father, and my father are all connected to her death. So I believe I have a right to know."

He looked away and focused his attention to the towel he'd given her earlier, but didn't say a word.

"Fine." She sighed frustratingly. "You know what? Maybe you were right. This was a mistake." She handed the glass to him. "If you won't tell me anything, I'll just figure it out on my own. I don't need your help." Clary started to stand up, but Jace put his hands on her shoulders, making it impossible for her to move.

"What the hell, Jace?"

"Don't go sticking your nose into this, Clary. You don't want to do that, trust me. You could get hurt."

Clary pushed at his hands, but they didn't budge. "Why should you care? You don't want anything to do with me, remember?"

Jace's expression softened slightly. "That's not what I…" He paused, when he spoke again, he did not finish his previous thought. Instead, he said, "You should stay until the pain is gone. It most likely will get worse if you don't keep the salt water on your piercing for awhile."

Clary pried his fingers off from her and replied sternly, making sure to enunciate each syllable. "I. Am. Fine."

She turned and picked up the pamphlet, before heading to the door. "Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Herondale," she said curtly.

She wrapped her hand around the doorknob and twisted it, letting the door swing wide open.

"Clary, wait a second—"

Clary didn't bother turning around. "I'll see you in class."

Clary hurriedly ran down the stairs, pausing a couple times to take deep breaths from the sudden pain emanating from her navel. She could go back and oblige Jace, but if there was something she knew she was, it was stubborn. She'd endure through the pain if she had to, but there was no way in hell she'd concede defeat.

When Clary finally reached home, she stripped her clothes and changed into the comfiest pants and shirt she could find. She cringed when her eyes landed on her bed, as she recalled the events from earlier, and looked away. Maybe she just needed space from XY chromosome bearing humans. For a while, anyway. Clary needed to sort through her feelings about Sebastian and Jace, and the conflicts between her and her father.

Clary sank down on the floor and held her head in her hands, taking deep slow breaths. She wondered if she should, in fact, take the night off and speak to Isabelle later. She lifted her head and searched under her clothes for her phone. Clary pulled it out and typed a quick message to her best friend.

Hey. Can we reschedule tonight?

Isabelle's reply was instant.

Of course. Is everything okay? What happened after I left?

Clary bit her lip. Sure, everything was just dandy.

Yeah. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.

Promise?

Pinky. :)

Clary threw her phone on her bed and stood. Her throat was parched, so she headed toward the kitchen, when she heard a knock on the door. Clary furrowed her brows. Who could it be at this hour? Her father? No, he wouldn't knock. He'd just barge in. So who then?

She slowly walked over to the door and wrung her hands before opening it. Clary froze. The person across the threshold was the last person she wanted to see on the face of the planet.

Sebastian.

His dark hair was untidy as if he'd just walked through a tornado and his face was clean of any expression. "I wanted to apologize."

Clary was about to slam the door in his face when his foot stopped it from happening.

She held on to it and tried to hide behind it. "I don't want to talk to you or see you right now. Or ever, for that matter." She nudged the wooden door more with her body, but Sebastian kicked it open, pushing Clary to the ground with the force.

She scrambled to her feet and started moving backwards just as he moved toward her.

"Babe, don't be afraid. It's me. Your Seb." He rested his hand against his heart and smiled. A smile that meant something so different from what it used to and made fear skitter down Clary's spine.

She swallowed. "Please leave. Please."

He shook his head. "Not until we talk about this, Clary. Not until we come to an understanding."

Panic shot through Clary as the meaning of his words became apparent. She glanced around for something, anything, to defend herself. There was nothing. It was only Sebastian and her. Nothing else.

She kept walking backwards, keeping as much distance between them as possible until her back hit a wall. No, no, no. Clary looked to her left and quickly calculated how much luck she'd have in running to the kitchen and grabbing a knife. Or a cutting board. Or a glass.

Clary realized she wouldn't have very good luck, so she focused on persuading Sebastian to leave the house.

He was now only a couple of feet away from her, his head tilted to the side. "When I surprised you today, I thought you'd be happy." His tone was hurt, but he kept walking toward her until he was only inches apart from her.

"I was," she said, but her voice cracked.

"You are lying. Lying!" Sebastian yelled.

"N-no. I'm not."

"And then your bitch came and broke my nose." He raised his hand to his nose and rubbed it.

"I'm sorry." Clary scooted to her left slowly, hoping he wouldn't notice.

He did, obviously. Sebastian grabbed her hand and painfully twisted it. Clary screamed in pain and tears sprung in her eyes. He reached for her other arm, but Clary raised it and punched his jaw. He staggered back a couple of steps, giving her enough time to run to the kitchen.

Weapon, weapon, weapon. Look for a weapon. Anything. But god dammit. The entire kitchen counter was clean. She quickly moved over to the cupboards and opened one of them, which revealed a rolling pin. That would have to do.

She turned around and froze. Sebastian was right behind her. He smirked, as if he'd just caught a child sneaking some cookies into her mouth.

"This is perfect."

Clary didn't pause for a second. She swung the pin at him, but he dodged the hit. He clutched her waist, swinging her up to the counter, before grabbing the rolling pin from her and throwing it across the room.

"Sebastian, please. Stop," she begged as he pinned her to the counter. He held her hands with one of his own and pushed down her pants, followed by her panties.

Clary squirmed and kicked out at him, but she wasn't making any progress. He was too strong for her. He tightened his grip on her the more she tried to free herself.

"Shh, babe. You'll like this. I promise."

Tears stung Clary's eyes, but she kept trying to twist out of his grasp. She would not give up. No matter how hurt she got, she would not give her virginity away to Sebastian. So she tried the only other way she could think of to try to save herself.

"Hey, Seb," she spoke softly, trying as hard as she could to not let her voice shake.

He whipped his head toward her. "You're slowing me down, babe," he growled.

Clary swallowed down her fear. "Kiss me first."

She tilted her head up and puckered her lips. Sebastian leaned down, and just as his face was close enough to Clary's, she drew back and head-butted him. He staggered back, holding his forehead in his hand and howling in pain. Clary didn't waste a minute. She pulled her panties and pants up, jumped off the counter, and scrambled toward the door. She needed to get out of there. Fast.

Clary was near the door when she felt Sebastian grab her ankle. She fell to the ground with a thud and moaned in pain.

Sebastian stood over Clary's body, his legs on either side of her waist. "Where do you think you're going?" he snarled.

Her breathing sped and her eyes kept darting to her surroundings. She narrowed her eyes to his groin and lifted her knee to kick him there, but he shook his head.

"Don't even think about it. You see," he said as got down on his knees, "I was going to make this pleasurable for you. But after all the trouble you've given me, pain is the only thing you're going to get now."

"Sebastian. Please stop."

He ignored her and stripped Clary of all her clothes. She tried fighting him, spitting at him, but nothing worked. He hit her every time she did anything. So she stopped. She stopped resisting. Within seconds, she was laying on the ground, naked, her hands in his iron grasp. No matter how hard she tried to jerk away from him, it didn't work. Tears poured down her cheeks and she begged him again and again to stop, but he didn't stop.

With one hand, Sebastian unbuttoned his jeans, pulled them down to his knees, followed by his boxers.

Clary screamed.

Sebastian moved one of his hands up to cover her mouth. "You're going to pay for every little thing, bitch."

Clary clenched her eyes shut and hoped that this was all a nightmare. That this was just a very bad dream and it would all go away.

And then suddenly, Sebastian's weight was gone, and Clary heard a loud thud followed by a strangled cry. She opened her eyes and gasped at the sight in front of her. Sebastian, face red bordering on purple, hung suspended in the air, his pants and boxers around his ankles, and his fingers clawing at the hand around his throat.

A hand that belonged to Jace.

A/N: Jace to the rescue! Sigh. I do love that boy. Anyway, hope to see you all soon. Hopefully some answers coming up in the next chapter for you guys. Thanks for reading!