Whenever you see '-0o-' It's a change in POV. ENJOY!

Jace watched as Isabelle beheaded a grotesque forsaken with a quick and almost careless (considering the obvious danger they were in) flick of her whip. He had to hand it to her; she was quite a talented shadowhunter, not to mention that her attitude could give his own a run for his money. In the two seconds he had stopped to admire Izzy's skills, however, more forsaken had taken the place of the ones he had most recently killed. Quick as a flash he reached down, yanked his daggers out of the bodies of two separate forsaken warriors, (who had , conveniently enough for him, fallen side by side) and begin slashing away at the oncoming crazy things that approached him from all sides. Wielding a blood-stained axe, one forsaken charged up right in front of him. Deciding to kill two 'birds' with one stone, he let her swing the axe down, and at the last minute pushed another forsaken in front of him as a shield. Idiotically, though as Jace had predicted, the attacked forsaken man went after the woman, and he could hear, even as he continued battling, the two of them slaughter each other.

He heard a cry sound from somewhere in the thick of the battle. He recognized it immediately: his parabatai, Alec. Jace responded immediately, using one of the forsaken as basically a step-stool, he put one leg on the man's shoulder and launched himself up onto the railing of the steps, just high enough to be out of reach of the forsaken. He scanned the scene. Forsaken filled the hospital lobby, causing destruction wherever they could. Isabelle looked fine, slashing about with her whip. It didn't look as though she had sustained any injuries. Then his eyes traveled to Alec. He was actually off to the side, battling individually whatever forsaken was smart enough to break free of the crowd and come attack him. Alec wasn't looking at the forsaken he had just taken down, however, and Jace followed his line of sight to see what he was staring at with such a look of horror on his face. Clary.

Without a second thought, Jace kicked off the railing and landed halfway across the room (an amazing feat, but he didn't have time to think about that) and sprinted the few steps it took to reach the forsaken that was looming over the small redheaded girl with a mace raised in its rather large, misshapen hand. He grabbed the hand that held the weapon and twisted it until he heard the bones snap all throughout. He chanced a fleeting glance at Clary, who was lying on the ground staring at the him, looking more relieved than he had ever seen her look (albeit he had only just met her and had only known her for two days, if you could even use the world 'known'). He swiftly smashed the forsaken's head into the wall and held out a hand to the girl, having no doubt that the thing had died the second it had made contact with the hard brick wall.

-0o-


Clary grabbed Jace's outstretched hand and, before she knew it, was being dragged along behind the boy as he ran for the door. Once they had made it out of the crowd of crazy once-people, he pulled her close and whispered in her ear. "Get out of here now, just wait outside, we'll meet you out there. It won't take long."

"Okay, but Jace, what's going-" but it was too late. The boy had flashed her a devilish grin (which she knew was evoked by his addiction to battle) and had slipped back into the heat of the fighting before she could even wonder aloud what was going on. Slowly, she slipped out the door and stood outside, waiting for them, watching people as they walked by, flashing her short, curious looks that seemed to ask her why on Earth she was standing outside the doors of a hospital, looking nervous and scared, wondering if they knew what was taking place through those very doors, wondering how she could ever have been so ignorant before the events of the past few days.

In a nutshell, she had been in club Pandemonium a couple days ago, had seen Jace and Isabelle and Alec kill a demon, had been the ONLY one to witness it because no one else could see them. That night she had gone to her favorite coffee shop, Java Jones, and had seen Jace once MORE (which she wasn't sure she could honestly complain about). While talking to him, she had gotten a panicked call from her mother, had raced home to find it empty except for a Ravener demon who subsequently attacked her, had killed the Ravener demon, had been knocked out, and had been carried by Jace to the Institute, where she remained unconscious for a day or so. Upon calling Luke after she had woken up and determined the secret of her heritage by Hodge, the apparently 'all-knowing,' (or so everybody seemed to think) she found out that Luke had saved her mother, and she was at the hospital in a state they could only describe as 'coma-like.'

So, just a few minutes ago, she honestly wasn't too surprised to find her mother's hospital room's door kicked in by Alec, the rather spoiled and annoying shadowhunter she had been acquainted with yesterday after she'd woken up. She could hear yelling and sounds of battle in the distance, downstairs (her mother had had an upstairs room). She could see Alec's frantic eyes as he beckoned her toward him, so she could escape. "What about my mother?" she had screamed, terrified for her life and her mom's.

"We'll get her, it's just – you need to get out of here now, before they make their way upstairs."

"And what if they do? What will happen to my mom?" she had asked, panicky, "what if you can't get her out in time, what if-"

He'd cut her off, "Don't worry, we won't let them, they're just some forsaken, though there are a bunch of them, we can deal with th-"

"NO! I'm not just leaving my mother here! That is NOT an option, I'm sorry, but no."

He had looked at her warily, as if she were some annoying pest. "Look, we're here to save your life, the least you could do is cooperate." He'd spoken to her slowly. "You can come either willingly or unwillingly. Trust me, I don't want to have to use force, but if I have to…"

She had been so aggravated. Aggravated that he was talking to her like she was below him, aggravated that he had threatened to 'use force,' aggravated that she couldn't just visit her hospitalized mother in peace, aggravated at shadowhunters in general, aggravated that she couldn't just be a normal human being… So is that what this is about? She had accused herself. You're not mad at Alec, though he IS infuriating. You're mad at yourself. Who you are. What you are. A voice in her head that for some reason sounded a lot like her best friend had suddenly spoken. "You can't change who you are, Fray." Or what you are, she'd thought.

And that had been it. Simon had convinced her. She let Alec lead her out of the room, not looking back to catch a glimpse of her mother. Not wanting to look at her and think what she had known she would've: this may well be the last time I ever see you, mom. She could not allow herself to think like that. Could not allow herself to say good-bye to her mother. Because that would make all this real. And she didn't think she could bear that.

The moment the door had shut behind Alec and herself, she had run down the hallway toward the stairs at the end, closely followed by Alec. The lobby had been chaos. She could just pick out Isabelle, the bratty, spoiled girl, slashing away with her whip at disgustingly misshapen, almost human-like things. She had realized this must have been what Alec had meant by 'Forsaken.' Jace, who had been murdering more of them just at the bottom of the stairs, preventing the things from going up, had looked back at them just for a second. He'd yelled up to Alec, "Get her out of here, now!"

Alec had said harshly, "Stay with me," and with that, he'd whipped out a weapon, (she couldn't tell what exactly it was, only that it looked deadly) grabbed her hand with his free hand, and set off down the stairs. He'd left her just outside the crowd of warring bodies, and then she'd been attacked, and then she'd been saved by Jace, and now she was here.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when the hospital door opened, revealing an exhausted-looking Isabelle. "Where's my mother?" Clary almost yelled, and then caught herself, realizing she was in the thick of the action no more, as much as it seemed like it, what with her mind whirling the way it was.

"Calm down, mundane." Isabelle looked annoyed, "Jace and Alec are getting her."

"Are all those… things… dead?"

"Yes, the forsaken have all been taken care of."

Clary pushed past her and ran into the hospital in time to see Jace and Alec on the bottom step, Jace with her mom slung almost carelessly over his shoulder. Without thinking, she began running toward them. After taking about three steps through the doors, she was knocked to the ground by an incredible force. Looking up, she saw a crazy, distorted-looking man raise a butcher knife above his head. Helpless, she flicked her eyes over to Alec and Jace, both of whom were sporting surprised looks featuring dropped jaws and impossibly wide eyes. When her eyes flicked back to the forsaken, she realized he was now swinging the knife down. She also noticed that, of the trio of shadowhunters that were there, one was oblivious to her situation, and two were too caught off guard to help. Surprising everyone in the room, the forsaken and herself included, she quickly rolled out of the way. Scrambling ungracefully to her feet (she knew Jace could've done it more elegantly) she kicked out at the thing with all the strength she could muster, knocking it to the ground, sending the knife it held spinning a few feet away. Thinking quickly, (quicker than she could've imagined she could) she dove for the knife, spun around just as the forsaken was beginning to get to its feet , and drove the knife into the creature's heart.

She watched the forsaken fall, dead, to the floor. Stood over the body as the blood pooled around it, spreading slowly, and thick as dark, red, metallically-smelling honey. And then she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Well done, little girl. I didn't know a scrawny thing like you could pack such a punch," said an arrogant voice at her side.

She turned her head and found herself face to face with Jace. She felt his breath tickle her lips as he spoke, obviously aware of how close they were – mere inches apart. "I honestly didn't think you had it in you."

Alec, clearing his throat, caused her to whip her head away and turn toward him. He was holding Clary's still out-of-it mother. "Let's go, Isabelle's waiting for us," he said, in a slightly shaky, uneven voice.

Jace seemed unfazed by Alec's interruption, making Clary feel as though maybe she was the only one who really thought of their closeness as a 'moment.' She'd thought maybe for a second that Jace had felt something. But she realized she was deluding herself. Jace was the kind of boy who never felt anythinglike love or pain. Anything that made him even slightly vulnerable, she thought. Who am I to try to change that? To want to change that? She thought about what he'd called her earlier. "Little girl," he'd said. That's all he thought of her as. Though it seemed to her, as she shook her head to clear it and allowed herself to meet Jace's eyes that they held a sort of respect for her that wasn't there before.

-0o-


"You should have seen it, Isabelle. It was great!" Jace and Isabelle walk slightly ahead of Clary and I, Jace talking Clary up about her kill. I try to put some distance between Clary and I on the sidewalk, stepping a little to the side, sickened. So what, she killed one forsaken. It's not the amazing thing he's making it out to be.

Jace turns back to us and opens his mouth, and for a moment I think maybe he's going to start bragging about the stupid mundie to me, but no, he does something equally as infuriating. "Clary, come here!"

I watch Clary as she steps in front of me on her way to catch up with Jace and Isabelle, just a few steps ahead. She's blushing. Jace, walking between my sister and the mundane girl, puts his arms around both of their shoulders, still talking animatedly, no doubt continuously singing praises about Clary and what a great fighter she is.

I stop for a second, trying to clear my head. I'm getting ahead of myself. Yeah, Jace is getting a little over-excited about this, but he's not blowing it that far out of proportion. You're just jealous, says a voice in my head. The obnoxious voice that always seems to sound like Jace. Well, face it, says the voice, He loves you, but not in the way you love him. He loves you in a brother way, a parabatai way. The way a boy can love another. What you feel is wrong.

"Wow," I hear myself mutter, "Now I'm not even on my own side." If you're not, who is?

I snap my head up at the sound of approaching footsteps. Speak of the devil. Jace slings an arm around my shoulders. I hope the darkening sky is hiding my blush. "Fallen behind again, Alec?" He joked.

"Yup," I mutter under my breath, sure he can't hear me, "As usual."

-0o-


"So, basically, there were a BUNCH of forsaken," explained Isabelle to Hodge, putting more emphasis on the word 'bunch' than was probably necessary – but then, she wouldn't be Isabelle if she didn't exaggerate just a LITTLE bit – "and, as usual, Jace and I kicked some butt as Alec saved lives," she gestured to the little redhead girl standing in between her and Jace, "But that's not the best part. You see, this mundane isn't as weak and wimpy as she looks, or at least, as most mundanes seem. Now, I wasn't there to see it, but Jace described what she did to me on the way home. See, a forsaken came at her from nowhere and—"

I roll my eyes as my sister begins worshipping the stupid mundie. I swear, it's like she comes into my life and she just takes everything that means the world to me. At first when I met her, I didn't know what it was about her that made me dislike her so much. Everyone (including myself) has always seen me as a fairly nice person (though that may have just been because they always saw me in comparison to Jace, but even before he came into our lives I was known as the sweet one) but I've found that when I'm around this little girl, 'Clary' they called her—I hate the taste of her name on my lips—I feel a sense of hostility and anger. It wasn't until today, two or three days after I'd met the girl, that I realized why my first instinct toward her was hatred. It wasn't because she was a mundane, or because of her annoying determination, or even because of her infuriating stubbornness—It was because of Jace.

It doesn't bother me so much that Isabelle is bragging about her at the moment—I know for sure that Isabelle will never grow to fully like and respect the girl simply because she is a mundane, and smaller than Izzy at that. However, Jace seemed to take an automatic liking to her. And not the type of liking he had taken to 'hot chicks' that he picked up at clubs for hours-long make-out sessions. A type of liking that hints at respect. Jace NEVER respected women (except Isabelle, but only because Izzy could whip him into line, but everyone knows Jace only sees her in the same way I do—as a sister). And I know that if Jace actually respects a girl, well, that girl might not have much competition. And I want nothing more than to be competition.

-0o-


I watch as Isabelle excitedly gives Hodge what she honestly thinks is a short summary of the day's events (which really lasts about 20 minutes as usual, and it's not even her story to tell!) But I digress, even though watching my adoptive sister so animatedly talk about our adventures is exciting as always, my eyes keep flicking to the girl next to me. She's short; the top of her pretty red head comes just to the bottom of my shoulder. She's slight; smaller even than Izzy, which I had almost believed to be not possible. She's determined, which I hadn't seen when I'd first looked at her, but I see it now, as I saw it the other day when she killed that ravener demon with her bare hands (and my sensor, but oh well). And I don't know what it is about her that draws my eye. Maybe it's the fact that she's brave. Her whole life has been turned sideways, reality flung in her face in the past three days, and so far she hasn't yet broken down. I don't know if even I could take that. And I don't think I'll ever forget the way she so easily annihilated that forsaken at the hospital, when even Alec and I were too caught off guard to do anything. It's quite an unforgettable thing. Maybe that's it. I've never met a girl who wasn't easily forgotten. Or maybe it's not what's inside at all. Maybe I'm being shallow, but then it wouldn't be so out of character for me. Maybe it's her outward appearance that strikes me. She's not hot, like the girls who wear midriff-bearing shirts and tiny skirts. Who flaunt their bodies and throw themselves at me. If anything, she does all she can to downplay her looks—shirts that hang down to her waist that aren't very tight, baggy pants, hair in a messy ponytail. And most of all, she'd never throw herself at me. That much is clear. Actually, she doesn't seem interested in me at all. She's probably the first girl (who isn't related to me) that doesn't seem interested in me. The thought stings me, probably more than it should, and I start to believe that I really am quite shallow. And for the first time in my life I think of what someone else might think of me, and I scold myself inwardly for being so shallow, and think about what that not being out of character for me says about who I am. I don't like where this is going. So I shake my head and turn my attention back to reality.

Izzy and Clary are exiting the library, Alec not far behind them. He has a look of disgust on his face, as if he smells something terrible. Before I can approach him to ask what it is that's made him so on –edge lately, Hodge puts a hand on my upper arm, turning me to face him. "Clarissa will be staying here tonight," he tells me, giving me a pointed look.

I feel an unusual churning in my stomach, but decide to play it cool. I can't let Hodge know about… whatever it is that's happening to me. "Um, ok?" I say in response.

I look Hodge in the eye defiantly, as if daring him to say anything that might hint in the direction he knows I don't want this conversation to take. The corners of his mouth twitch upward slightly, as if he knows something. There's a look in his eyes of something unrecognizable. Something I've never seen before. Is he… proud? Of me? I can't imagine what it might be—or rather, I won't allow myself to imagine it.

Hodge gives my shoulder a slight shake and removes his hand. Turning around, he sits down at his desk, resuming his work. It's obvious that this exchange is over, yet I watch him for another second or two before leaving the library. As the door closes behind me, I swear I hear a fatherly chuckle while I walk down the hall to my room.

-0o-


I watch from a shadowy corner as Jace walks down the hall to his room, a small smile playing on his lips. As he passes my sister's room where she and the mundane are, I see his ears almost perk up as if he's heard something. He walks up to the door in an eerie, quiet fashion worthy of the Silent Brothers. I get as close as I can without stepping out of the shadows. Luckily, with his ear on the door, he is facing away from me, so I'm pretty sure I won't be caught. Not that he would punish me or anything. Honestly I don't know why I worry about being caught by him.

"I don't think he likes me much," I hear the semi-familiar voice of the mundane girl. I can't tell if they're talking about me or Jace. She hasn't seemed to have noticed the way Jace is acting around her. Or maybe, since she hasn't known him until recently, she thinks that is just the way he has always acted. It's not.

I hear Izzy respond and I know they're talking about me, "He'll come around. I didn't like you much at first either but I grew used to you. And it only took me like two or three days. Alec will loosen up. Just give him time to get used to you."

"No offence, but I really hope I don't have to stay here long enough to give him time to get used to me. I just want to go home."

"Really? You haven't found any reason here to want to stay?"

At this, Jace turns his head to stare at the door, as if the voices inside hold the secrets to the universe. And I realize, Izzy is talking about Jace. Asking if maybe Jace could be Clary's reason for staying in the Shadow World. He quickly puts his ear back to the door.

"Are you kidding me?" The incredulity in her voice is palpable. "There is nothing here that could make me want to stay."

Jace turns his head to face the door again, with a sort of dejected look I have never seen on his face before.

"Nothing at all," Clary says loudly and cruelly, as if knowing what she is doing to him, and wanting to make it worse.

Jace sighs and puts his forehead to the door with a soft thunk. I see the muscles in his throat working. He looks like he's having some sort of internal struggle with himself. He leans his head back once more and then brings back down on the door, this time making a louder thunk.

"Did you hear that?" Izzy says. I hear the creak of the bed springs as the girls get up to go to the door. In less than a second, Jace is gone, nowhere to be seen. I quickly step out of the shadows and set my stele on the ground before the door to Izzy's room flies open and she stands in the doorway holding her electrum whip, which is flying around her. That's one thing I love about Izzy, she's always on her guard.

I bend down to pick up my stele. "Sorry, Iz, I dropped my stele."

She looks at me suspiciously. "O…K..." She says, turning around to head back into her room. I see the wide green eyes of the mundie just before the door shuts.

-0o-


I search frantically on the map for some sign of where I need to go. I know what I need to do: I need to save someone. But who? And where are they? And who do I need to save them from?

And suddenly he appears. A man with white-blonde hair. A man I seem to recall from somewhere, emerging from the mist. He's carrying something. A body. As the man gets closer to me I recognize him. My late father. I also recognize the body. I see the red, curly hair, spilling down from her head as my dad carries her, bridal style. I see her bright eyes flutter open and she stirs.

"Jace," she manages to croak out. And I can see that it takes all she has to say even my one-syllable nickname. She tries to lift her head but doesn't have the strength. She lets her head fall back and I somehow succeed in tearing my eyes away from her for just a moment to look up at my father. He is looking at me the same way he used to when I would screw up badly. With a twisted smile and dark eyes, he begins to speak to me. And, having not seen my father in years, I take it all to heart.

"This girl is dying. In fact, this girl will die. And there is no cure. And it is all your fault." He says. And I remember my falcon. And I remember that to love is to destroy. And I finally make sense of my feelings for this girl. And I realize that if I continue to feel this way, Clary will die. She will be gone from this world. And everyone that holds her dear will suffer. Including me.

"No!" I say to my father, as he sets the girl on a table to my right that I hadn't noticed before. "She can't die!" I scream at him.

"And why is that?" he fixes me with a glare that could freeze Hell.

"I'll do anything…" is all I manage to force quietly from my lungs.

My father walks slowly up to me and hands me the red-diamond kindjal. I take it, feeling confused. "If you don't want to destroy her by killing her slowly, do it now. Get it over with." He says in a calm voice.

I look down at the small shape on the table before me. She is passed out, her hair fanning out around her. She looks like a little angel girl. Her eyelids flutter as she dreams. I imagine those eyelids opening slowly, her green eyes staring into my gold ones determinedly, as if she can see right through me. Sometimes I think she can.

I raise the dagger, knowing what I must do. As I bring the dagger down, I whirl around, knowing my father is right behind me, and it sinks into a chest. A chest. But not his chest. Because now it's not him standing behind me, it's Clary. And blood is spreading slowly from the place where my dagger has sunk into her. Just above her heart. Her hands reach up as if to grab it and yank it out, but they began shaking violently just before she reaches the hilt. I watch, breathlessly, as her green eyes come up to meet mine, utterly astonished. She was just as surprised as I am. I see something in her eyes besides surprise as well. Betrayal. She hasn't known me for long, but she trusts me. Or, she did trust me.

Clary's legs give out and I catch her as she falls backwards. I kneel on the ground, holding her, staring into those wide green eyes the way I've wanted to for days now (but I knew she would catch me). I watch as the light begins to leave them, and rain begins to fall on her face. No, not rain. Tears. My tears. And I never cry. But I know I would cry a million tears if only to see this girl bright-eyed and happy one more time. Instead, she closes her eyes and takes a rattling breath. And suddenly, she is a bit heavier. Dead weight in the most literal sense. I bury my face in her neck, crying harder than I ever have in my entire life.

I sit up quickly in bed, shaking, back drenched in cold sweat. "Clary," I whisper to myself. I get up out of bed and attempt to walk toward the mirror. It's only a few steps but it's one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I look up at my reflection in the mirror, leaning against the dresser beside it for support. I see that my cheeks are wet, but think nothing of it at the time. I close my eyes to try to shake it all out of my head, but the second they are shut, the madness begins again. I see Clary, with my dagger thrust into her heart, staring at me as if she doesn't believe I could be so cruel. I ache to tell her I would never so much as think about hurting her, but all that comes out is a choked sob. My eyes fling open and I realize I am crying. And not just the sad, pathetic crying you do when your pet dies. The kind of crying you do when your whole family dies in some sort of tragedy. The crying you do when you've lost everything you've ever loved in the world. My gut wrenches with every sob, and I think of how I really must seem a fool; A seventeen year old boy bawling like a baby—no, worse than a baby—because he had a dream that he killed a girl that he just met three days ago. I just can't seem to stop.

-0o-


"Really? I never would have guessed!" Clary says. I laugh harder than I can remember having laughed in my life. I really am getting used to not being the only girl now. This girl is really funny.

"Got any fours?" I ask. Clary's teaching me a card game I've never heard of called "Goldfish" or something of the like.

"Go fish," she says. I make a mental note to learn the correct way to say it as I reach out to pick up another card.

"Got any twos?"

"I really hate this game," I say through gritted teeth after I hand her the card I just picked up. "I think that-" I am about to accuse her of cheating when she cuts me off.

"Did you hear that?"

"No…" I say slowly. "I think you're hearing things, mundie."

"No, I'm almost positive someone just knocked on the door."

I stand up with a sigh and walk over to the door, if only to feed the mundane's imagination. I open it, and without looking into the doorframe at all, turn to her. "See, no one's out-"

The look on her face stops me. She looks smug. Mixed with… what I would dare to call concern. I whip my head around, sending a mane of black hair onto my back that tickles where the tank top I'm wearing doesn't cover. "Jace?"

"Can I come in?" He asks quietly, almost hesitantly. And I immediately begin worrying about him. It's only when he steps into the light of my room that I see what Clary eyes saw, and mine somehow missed at first glance. His eyes look a bit puffy. And not sleep puffy. Crying puffy. Something must be terribly wrong. Jace never cries. EVER.

I decide to play it cool in case he doesn't want to talk about it, which I get the sense that he doesn't. "So, what's up?" I ask as I flounce over to the bed where he is sitting a short ways away from Clary—where I was sitting before. I stand awkwardly in front of him, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

"Um, nothing. I just wondered what the two of you were up to. I kept hearing insane laughter and I thought, how could any girl have that much fun without Jace Wayland in the room?"

I see an almost imperceptible glint in his eye and know that he's holding something back from me. However, since he hasn't led on that he wants to talk about what's bothering him, and since he seems to be acting like the same old Jace he always is, I decide not to probe any further.

As if she can read my mind and just wants to bother me and possibly ruin my adoptive brother Clary says, "You look like you've been crying. Why?"

I decide to cover for him. "Jace never cries. Like EVER."

"Could've fooled me. Look at his eyes," she says stubbornly.

I'm about to respond when I hear my name being called from another room and recognize the voice as my brother's. It's not a panicked type of yell, more a scolding type. I sigh and leave the room, shutting my door on the two of them. I feel like Jace acting weird has something to do with the mundie anyway, so maybe they need some alone time.

I swing open the door to Alec's bedroom and walk in, shutting it behind me. "Alec," I say, "You have impeccable timing."

-0o-


I feel like her eyes are burning me, what with the intensity that flares in the gaze she's fixing me with. The same eyes I saw drain of light not twenty minutes ago. I had to see her, make sure she was OK, so I came to Isabelle's room with a lame excuse (though I really did hear crazy laughing).

"There's no shame in it."

"What?" I say, rather harshly. I didn't mean it to come out like that, but it's too late to take it back now.

Whereas other girls would have recoiled at the callousness, Clary seems unfazed. I can't help but smile a little on the inside.

"Crying," she says. I notice that she's speaking quietly, as if barely being able to form the words. Her gaze, however, is unwavering.

"I don't-"

She cuts me off, "Everyone does it, Jace. Just because you appear tough as nails to the world doesn't make you not human. Humans have feelings. We cry."

I see her eyes begin to well up with tears and feel a sudden urge to wrap my arms around her and reassure her that it's all going to be OK. Though I know I can't do that. I cannot lie to her.

"We cry over movies, and books, and news stories," she begins, naming each thing slowly, giving a little nod with each thing she lists, "and friends, and f-family-" and I can tell she could go on but the tears I watched her so desperately try to hold back are spilling over, pouring down her sad face. I know she's thinking of her mother, who honestly has little to no hope of ever waking up again.

The impulse I've been trying to fight overwhelms me and I scoot myself closer to her on the bed and hold out my arms. She puts hers out and wraps them around my torso, where I can feel them, warm and comfortable, through the thin white T-shirt that I changed into after my nightmare. I pull her closer to me, so she is practically sitting on my lap as I stroke her head. I can feel her small body as it shakes with sobs not unlike the ones I had just minutes ago. And I don't think any less of her, and I don't try to pretend that I didn't do just the same thing, alone in my room. Because I did. Because I am human. And we cry. We cry for the tragic movies, the sad books, the heartbreaking news stories, the friends who need us, and the family that we know we can't live without. Even though, sometimes, we don't have a choice in the matter.

So, guys, this is my very first fanfiction so please, tell me how I did! I really would welcome any constructive criticism or anything! Just tell it to me like it is!