Ok so it took a little longer than I thought I would. Not going to make excuses, mainly cause I don't have any.

Sorry. About the wait and if it sucks, which I'm pretty sure it does.

But anyway here you go. Red, take 2. Action!

(Do not own any characters or anything, all for Cassie Clare.)

Red.

Everywhere he looked, there it was. Red.

Red handbags. Red lipstick. Red covers on magazines.

But it was different this time.

It wasn't as though it had drastically changed and he suddenly loved seeing the colour red everywhere he looked. It was still painful, just a different kind of pain. It was still helplessness, but a different kind of helplessness. Before, it was like seeing a homeless man on the street beaten and bruised and begging for money for the little girl beside him and not having a dime in your pocket. Now, it was like seeing someone who loved get poisoned in front of you, and wanting and needing to help but not knowing how to. It was like knowing your best friend in the whole entire world was being abused at home but not knowing how to save them.

Before, it was not having a chance to.

Now, it was not knowing how to.

And it was killing him inside.

Not slowly. Not painfully.

But quickly and numbingly. And somehow, Jace found that worse than the actual pain itself. Because he knew it was there hiding somewhere in the corner he just couldn't feel it. He would feel better if he could feel it, if that makes any sense.

Simon sat in one of the stiff dark blue chairs in the waiting room, elbows on knees and hands in hair. Magnus and Alec stood by the wall whispering gently to each other with grief-stricken expressions as the couple comforted each other. Jace, on the other hand, switched regularly between sitting on the floor, pacing the area in front of the receptionist's – who kept sending Jace flirty glances and biting her lip which he found widely inappropriate – desk and trying to distract himself by flipping through several of the out-of-date magazines lying on the pale blue table.

Currently he was pacing and trying his best to ignore the receptionist's obvious attempt at flirting with him without actually talking. He hated waiting. Growing up, he never had to wait for anything in his life. Due to his natural looks and charisma, plus the fact that his foster parents were highly respected and had the privilege of getting everything they wanted fast-racked, he never had to wait for anything. Just a flash of a smile and a quick mention of his name and whatever he asked for was in his hands within seconds. But not this time.

When they had arrived no one would tell them anything about her because they weren't family. In their eyes anyway. In Jace's eyes, they were all one big family, all loving and hating each other in just the right amounts. But apparently that's not enough for a prissy little receptionist who doesn't seem to realise when it's really not the time or place to try and shove their chest in someone's face.

"Jace?"

The woman's voice was hoarse, as though she had been crying, and was so much like her daughter's that at first Jace mistook it for hers. He turned slowly around to face her, and a pang of pain went through his chest at the sight of the woman who looked so much like his Clary broken and hugging herself as she stared sadly at him.

"Jocelyn." He breathed, relived to see the mother of the love of his life. Maybe she could get something out of these people. She rushed forward and pulled him into a brief hug then doing the same to the rest of them. Jocelyn Graymark was Clary's mother, whom he'd only met twice while they were together and once more after Clary had left. The woman, so much like her daughter, had demanded him to tell her where she was and screamed at him when he said he didn't know. It was technically the truth. He never knew where she was but knew who she was with. God, the things that she must have through the past year. He couldn't bear to think about it.

"What happened?" Jocelyn asked, nestling into the arms of Magnus – a long-time friend of hers. Although she looked tiny and devastated there was still a part of her that was terrifying the living crap out of him.

"She- she showed up at my birthday party and she came over to me and I was hugging her and then she just," He broke off, his throat closing up and tears flooding his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He hadn't cried since the day she left. Jocelyn took in a deep, shaky breath and closed her eyes as she leaned into Magnus. He could tell she was trying to stay together and not fall apart by the way she pulled her eyebrows together and the way the edges of her lips pulled down.

"Where's Luke?" Simon asked, his voice just as hoarse as the rest of them and his glasses crooked from the amount of times he removed them to wipe away the tears.

"He's stuck in traffic an-"

"Are you Mrs. Graymark?" They all turned round to face the tall doctor, the exact one that had told him he wasn't allowed to know anything. Jocelyn nodded and moved up to face him.

"Why are doctors always so damn secretive?" Alec ran his hand through his hair, mussing it up completely. Though he often acted cold towards the small girl, everyone knew he cared about her.

The redheaded woman's features were pulled into an angry frown as she glared at the doctor. Jace felt some satisfaction at the man's scared expression, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because he wanted somebody else to feel the fear that was running through him, and keeping him from being able to do anything without shaking. Maybe it was because the same rage that lay in Jocelyn lay in her daughter and it had been such a long time since he'd seen that. Or maybe he just hoped that if the man was scared enough he would stop shutting Jace out from seeing his Clary.

Jace turned away and moved to distract himself, if he looked at Jocelyn's reactions or expressions he would be able to see how bad it was – and he was already going worst case scenario in his head. He spotted a water cooler beside the seats and walked over, grabbing a small white cup, filling it and proceeding to chug the whole thing down.

It didn't help.

Neither did the second cup.

Or the third.

It didn't help the burning, dry sensation in his throat. It didn't help the heavy feeling in his chest. It just didn't help.

His hands found the edge of the wall and he braced himself against it, breaths coming in sharp and short as his eyes fluttered closed. Jace was never scared of anything. He was the strong one, the brave one, the fearless one. And he wasn't scared now.

He was fucking terrified.

He hadn't seen her in a year but knew that she wasn't alright, safe or happy. He knew nothing about what was happening with her. He knew nothing about how she was being treated. When Jace saw her, she was thin and her face was hollow, breaths short and skin sickly pale.

How could the most rational and health-conscious person he'd ever known become like that within a year?

Granted, she wasn't that conscious of her health. She never passed up a chance at eating junk food or having cake for breakfast but she would never ever let herself… wither away like that. Not ever.

So who did?

"Jace?" Jocelyn's voice rang through his ears and her small hand laid on his shoulder, his eyes popped open to meet hers and his breathing – which he was not aware had stopped – came back in a rush. Jocelyn smiled slightly at him and took his hand, leading him away from his friends who sent him hopeful smiles and away from the doctor whose jaw was clenched and eyes narrowed but mouth shut.

"Where are we going?" He asked, even though he knew the answer.

They stopped in front of a large white door, the numbers 557 printed onto it, and he gulped.

Jocelyn smiled gently, lovingly at him and said with tears in her green eyes, "To her."

Before he knew it, the door was open.

Before he knew it, he was beside her and touching her, feeling the cold skin beneath her and brushing the soft and pale skin of her face.

Before he knew it, he was running out the door and running away from the hospital. Away from her and the pain and the cold.

Just Away.

Two months.

Two months he had stayed away.

Two months he spent drowning in his own sorrow.

He couldn't see her like that. Hooked up to wires and that godawful oxygen mask on her face, her chest barely rising and falling. He just couldn't.

So he wouldn't.

Isabelle and Alec, of course, kept coming by his apartment and giving him updates on how she was doing, that she woke up last week. That she was doing better. That she was asking about him.

His reply was always the same.

"Good." "She deserves it."

He could tell, obviously, that Isabelle and Alec were getting frustrated with him and his refusal to visit her. They probably thought he didn't care anymore but they just didn't understand. He did care – more than he probably should've – and that was the reason he wouldn't see her. The fact that he cared was the only thing stopping him from pushing himself off of the sofa, on which he'd become a permanent resident, and dragging his sorry ass to the hospital.

One of those soaps that Jace always complained about was playing on the TV, Hollyoaks or something. He had the TV playing on the same channel for days now and it probably wasn't going to change soon. Hell, he didn't even have the energy to shave let alone change the channel.

A knock sounded through the apartment. It was a quiet knock, as though it was testing the waters, and Jace was almost sure he imagined it. When it sounded again, it was more sure and confident, and this time Jace knew it was real.

But he didn't answer.

He didn't have the energy for his sibling's shit today. They'd just leave eventually. They did yesterday. And the day before.

He ignored the next few knocks and waited until it all fell silent. One part of him was a tad disappointed that they had given up so easy on trying to get to him but another part of him scolded himself, telling him he couldn't have it all. He tossed the now empty bottle on the floor, ignoring the slight twinge of desire to clean it and the rest of bottles off the floor and in the bin, and reached for another one when it sounded again, along with a voice. But this time it was different. This time it made Jace pause and think. This time it made him remember.

This time it made him hurt.

Knock.

"Open the door, Jace." The voice, low and tired and pleading, enticed a rush of shaky breaths to be let out in a lame attempt to keep from his eyes flooding, "Please. I just want to talk, Jace."

He couldn't blink.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't move.

All he could think was her.

Clary.

After a few more moments of silence, she began talking again. This time more exasperated than before.

Fine. Be that way. But I'm still going to talk, you know? And if you want me to stop then you'll just have to come out here and tell me yourself, okay?" Silence met her. "Right. Forgot that you're going all silent treatment on me. Anyway, where do I start?"

Jace, finally able to move, stood and walked to the door but for the life of him couldn't find the courage to actually open it and face her. So he leant against the door, closed his eyes and listened. Just listened.

"Okay so I left while you were asleep, mainly because I knew you wouldn't let me leave if I didn't. You were always like that, even if I was going to be back in an hour you wouldn't let me leave. I really missed that, you know. It got so lonely over there, with them. I'm not going to go into the details – especially standing outside in hall and I'm not even sure you're listening to me right now, you have a right not to – but yeah it got pretty nasty. And the only thing that kept me going, from not just killing myself then and there, were memories. Of Simon. Mom. Magnus, Izzy, Alec." She paused her a long while before, "You."

He let out a shaky breath as his hand wraps around the door knob. But something deep inside wouldn't let him. It was as though the something was scared that he would open the door and she wouldn't be there and he would have just imagined this whole thing.

Jace wasn't sure if he could live with that.

"Yeah, then one day, there was a giant raid. Cops everywhere. They arrested everyone, whether they were a prisoner or a guard or one of the big guys. Showed no mercy. Me and a few other people got away, just barely. But the police wanted everyone who ever stepped foot in that goddamned house. They claimed it was because they need to gather evidence on Jonathon and Valentine and the rest of them but we didn't go for it. Well, most of us. There was this one girl, Beth, she insisted they would keep us safe and all that shit. We tried to convince her not to, but she went ahead anyway." Her voice was angry and dark now, and the further she descended into her story the more furious her tone grew. But the next time she spoke it was quiet, grieving almost and Jace idly wondered how long it has been since this happened.

"She was found dead two days later."

Jace sucked in a breath, and laid his forehead against the wooden door. He could almost feel her presence in front of him, almost as if there was no door between them. God knows how he wished the door wasn't between them.

I bet whoever invented the door is laughing in his grave at me.

"We split up after that, I'm not exactly sure where the others got to or if they're alive but I hope they are. They deserve it. I wasn't able to get a bus or train or anything cause then I'd be caught. I just had to make it back here, home, then they wouldn't be able to touch me. I'm not sure why or how but I don't really care at the moment. When I got here, I saw the date and, I don't know, I just couldn't help myself." There was a long pause then, "Jace…" Desperation. Pleading. Another long break between speaking. "Ok. If you don't want to talk to me or see me, I get it. Completely. I'll leave you alone if you want me to. You know where I'll be." He did. Her apartment. Despite her not living there for a year, Jace had always kept it, never letting the landlord sell it to a new tenant. Call it creepy or sad, but Jace had some small tiny bit of hope left in him that she would come back.

And he was right.

And he was letting her leave.

Again.

A sigh, then footsteps alerted him to her retreat and caused an alarm to go off in his head.

No.

No.

No.

Not again.

His body finally jumped into action, adrenaline coursing through each and every single cell in his body. He whipped open the door, nearly whacking himself in the face, and ran out – barefoot and dishevelled – scanning the corridor for that damn brilliant Red colour that he loved so much. He saw her turn the corner towards the stairs, and sprinted. He nearly slipped on the slightly damp floors and pyjama bottoms that were way too big for him several times but never stopped until he reached her.

Clary turned, wide-eyed and startled. "Jace, What are you –"

He took her in his arms and buried his face into the crook of her neck, cutting off whatever she had to say. She stood stiff and shocked.

"Please." He begged, "Please don't go." Jace was completely aware that he sounded like a four year old who didn't want to leave the park but he could bring himself to care. She was here in his arms, so close to walking away. Nothing else mattered to him anymore.

The redhead relaxed into him, wrapping herself arranged his torso as he squeezed tighter. "Okay. But as long as you take a shower or something. You stink as bad as Simon after two minutes of running."

He smiled.

Same old Clary.

Yeah. Like I said, sucks. But oh well.

Review if ya feel like it.