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CHAPTER THREE:
Something of a Mystery

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Stop asking about the illness! If Clary doesn't know yet, I can't tell you either. You will find something out at Magnus' so read on. Now, I must say this. Even though you guys are a much smaller following than Harry Potter, you really are better fans. I can't believe I reached 50 reviews in just two chapters! It's a personal record for a new story and I have you all to thank, especially screamingHALLELUJAH for being the 50th. Woot!

This chapter's song: Our Swords by Band of Horses.

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The path back to the Institute was considerably shorter when one drifts in and out of consciousness. Clary calmed the nausea by closing her eyes and pretending she was in bed beside Jace like that night in Idris. They had other similar nights in Idris but as soon as they got back to the Institute, Maryse began her open door policy.

"Shh…" he whispered, caressing her hair back from her face. Maryse had cut it for her a few weeks ago so it barely reached her shoulders. He missed running his hands through it like he used to, splayed out on a blanket under the shade of a giant oak. "We're almost there."

He picked her up in arms and carried her the final block, up the elevator and to her room. Maryse was waiting for them near the door, tapping her foot impatiently. "Where the hell have you been?" she began to scold but Jace quickly shushed her.

He whispered, "She's asleep. She had kind of a bad night. She threw up a couple times."

"Is she going to be all right?" asked Maryse, watching him set her down on the edge of her bed and begin to remove her shoes. He nodded and brought the covers up to her chest. He went to retreat but Clary caught his arm, still asleep.

"Don't go," she mumbled, remembering that night last night before they came home when he'd crawled into bed beside her and told her he loved her.

Jace looked over to Maryse with an honest plea written in his eyes. "Can I?" he asked genuinely. "I won't do anything. I just don't want her to be alone in case—"

She raised an arm to silence him and pondered it for a moment. As much as she tried to avoid his puppy dog eyes, she eventually gave a resigned, "Fine! But the door stays open." Jace smiled and began to remove his pants. "What did I just say?!"

He pointed to the barf on his jeans and shrugged. "What can a guy do?"

"Shower, for one, but since she's asleep, I'll just bring you your pajamas. Okay? And if I hear any bedsprings bouncing in here, you can consider your weapons scrap metal."

Jace nodded, Clary's tiny fist still wrapped around a clump of his shirt. As soon as Maryse brought him his pants and he crawled in beside her, they were left alone and something started to bubble inside Jace. He knew she probably had no idea he was there, that she curled into him for his warmth and nothing else, but he was ridiculously turned on.

Barf smell aside, he hadn't seen her look this peaceful since Valentine died. He smoothed back the short hair and laid a soft kiss on her neck just to hear her moan in her sleep. She reached up and rested his arm around her waist. He took it was a sign to draw in closer until her tense shoulder blades dug into his chest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in her sleep. "I'm so sorry, Simon."

He knew it didn't mean anything but he still flinched internally. What could she possibly be dreaming about here in his arms? He was so ecstatic to finally rest beside her without fear of rejection or discovery and she was dreaming about another guy?

"I'm sorry I lost the codes to Kingdom Hearts."

Jace had to bury his face in her neck to keep from laughing out loud. Feeling slightly better, he wrapped his arms tighter around her and fell asleep.

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Her unconscious mind had a way of playing tricks on her the deeper she fell into sleep. The happy, meaningless imagery of her childhood was often quickly replaced by the haunting images of her future, like flipping channels on a television. The dream had not changed since she left Idris, the details still vibrant. She stood on the edge of a great chasm surrounded by endless meadows of blue flowers the likes of which she'd never seen. She often dreamt of things she shouldn't know and places she'd never been but she didn't need to see it to know this place was real.

She also didn't have to turn around to know Jace was coming up behind her. His fingers tangled with hers and she gasped. He was so cold, so far away yet so close.

"I'm scared," she whispered. "What if I can't reach you?"

They both stared down into the bottomless pit, looking for the answer to their problem. With a wind-like voice, he answered, "I'll find my way back to you, even if I have to grow wings."

With that, his hand evaporates from hers and she is suddenly staring down at his body, falling limp and lifeless down the chasm. She calls his name, too many times to count, but he does not answer. He is falling but all she can do is stand, too cowardly to dive in after him.

And every night, though she knows he's going to jump and she's going to mourn him for those few hours of uneasy rest, she does not stop him because a part of her knows he was dead before he ever fell.

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Clary snapped awake a little after dawn. She was still horribly tired but she knew no amount of sleep would fix that. She went to sit up when she noticed a weight around her waist. She carefully turned back and saw Jace nuzzled into her hair. He groaned awake and propped himself up onto his elbow to get a better look at her face.

"Good morning," she whispered, kissing his jaw lightly. She was aiming for his lips, which was another bad sign that her vision was getting worse. "To what do I owe the special morning surprise?"

He laughed and went to kiss her before remembering the vomit. "Sorry. I'll leave then," he joked. He went to pull the covers off when she tugged on his collar sheepishly.

"No," she said with a groan. "Don't go. I just don't want you to get in trouble over me."

He shrugged and nodded towards the open door. "Maryse let me stay since you were feeling so sick. I promised her I'd play the happy eunuch for the night."

"It's morning," she reminded.

He smirked devilishly. "So it is."

His hand moved from her waist down her abdomen towards her outer thigh. He bent down to kiss her neck again but she flinched and he found himself stopping. "I'm sorry, Jace. I'm still vomity fresh from last night so uhm, I should probably just go take a shower."

"I could join you," he quietly suggested, sitting up in bed. She could see the hurt in his eyes, in the way he slumped his shoulders.

She shook her head, unable to tell him no. A moment of silence passed and Clary sat up beside him, hugging her knees. She hated how he stared out into the room, his lips set in a sad frown.

"Clary, did I do something to—" he began.

"No!" she snapped. "No no… It's not y—"

He turned his head quickly. "It's not you, it's me? Was that what you were going to say?"

The pain and dissolution in his voice turned to anger. She wished she had her usual strength so she could pin him down on the bed and prove how much she wanted him but there was no fixing her yet.

"I didn't mean it that way and you know it. I'm just… I'm just not ready for that yet," she lied. She trusted Jace with all her heart. Once you sleep next to someone night after night, when you start to crave their touch every hour you're apart, you're more or less ready. She'd wanted him for months. But she had to lie if she was going to spare him the details of her illness.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked timidly. She hated Timid Jace. She hated him as much as she hated Pain-In-The-Ass Jace, though he hadn't made an appearance in weeks.

She faked a smile and smoothed his hair back from his eyes the way he'd done to her the night before. "I love you," she whispered, resting her chin on his strong shoulder.

His face lit up as usual. He never tired of hearing that so he just sighed and kissed her forehead. "And that's enough, I guess. I'm sorry. I'll stop being a jerk about it."

At that, she laughed hysterically because she knew he would never stop being a jerk. "That'll be the day." Locating that final bit of energy she needed, she jumped out of bed and shut the bathroom door behind her. "I'll be out soon!"

He didn't wait for her, finding himself in need of his own cold shower. When he returned, she was gone. She left a note on his bed but he didn't bother reading it. He knew what it said, that she'd gone off somewhere and would be back soon. No matter what was going on, she'd always come back. This, he blindly believed. In the meantime, he went in search of something to stab.

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"Alec, slow down!" Clary shouted, pulling her arm away. "What's the big hurry?"

He ran up the steps to Magnus' front door and opened with his very own key. Clary tried not to smirk but it was such so strange to see Alec giddy. The loft was a dead dark but she could see something moving around in the shadows. Alec gave a dark mass near the bar a little nudge with his foot and commanded, "Go wake him up?"

A lazy hiss came from the mass and Chairman Meow was slowly on his way upstairs. But, before he could even make it up the steps, the tall, multi-colored Magnus lifted him up into his arms like a baby and bent down to kiss Alec lightly on the lips.

"I'm awake. I'm awake," he droned and crashed down onto the couch with the Chairman in his arms. "What's going on?"

"We have a little problem," said Alec.

Magnus opened a single eye and looked him up and down as though looking for a gaping hole somewhere. "You okay?"

"It's not me. It's Clary."

Magnus closed his eyes again and tried to use the Chairman as a pillow before it screeched away, back towards the bar. Clary was almost positive that was rum, not water, in his little bowl.

"It's serious," added Alec, slapping Magnus' thigh. "You know I wouldn't bother you if it wasn't serious."

Magnus scoffed dramatically. "Ha! You'd come knocking if you had a paper cut and you know it. Hell, you'd fake a paper cut just to see me."

"Maybe," he replied playfully. "But that's not the issue. Remember how I told you something was wrong between Clary and Jace?"

Magnus nodded. "Yea, Jace was sad 'cause he wasn't getting any or something."

Clary went scarlet red all over. "He's still not getting any, thank you very much," she muttered under her breath.

"Something's wrong, Mag. She's—"

Clary stepped forward and finished for herself. "There's something wrong with me."

Magnus got the severity of the situation from her tone. He'd heard it before from her, usually after Jace had just finished doing something incredibly dangerous and stupid and she needed Magnus to put him back together.

He sat up and leaned forward onto his knees. "What's the deal?"

"I don't know," she answered, "but Runes aren't fixing it and come dark I'm so drained that I can barely walk. There's something wrong and I can't ignore it anymore."

He pointed towards the loveseat in the corner and snapped his fingers to turn on the floor lamp behind it. She sat down and waited as Magnus looked her over. "You're bleeding," he told her a long minute later.

Clary looked down but she couldn't see it. "No I'm not."

He nodded. "Not blood. You're bleeding energy."

She laughed softly, despite Magnus' unsympathetic face. "What, you've got a scanner shoved up your ass that you can tell this from across the room?"

He didn't seem particularly amused and continued to stare at her with crossed arms, searching his mind for an answer. Alec, who stood with his hands lamely in his pockets nearby, answered for him, "Warlocks' magic works off energy, Clary. He can borrow the energy of others to supplement his own so yea, it would make sense that he'd have a scanner up his ass."

Magnus smirked at him for a quick second and turned back to Clary. "He's right and you're way off, love. Well, you and Jace always have that angel juice going but you are seriously running on empty."

"How do we fix it?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. I've never seen someone like this, not without any serious injury. Either someone's stealing it from you, which I doubt considering you live at the Institute, or your body's fighting off something."

"Like?"

"Sorry but the scanner up my ass only goes so far. I can look into it with some witch doctors I know. Those guys are into all sorts of seedy shit like this. They might know what's up with you but you're right. There's definitely something wrong. You're something of a mystery, Ms. Fray."

She groaned and hid her face in her cupped hands. "How am I supposed to train with Jace when I can't see straight?"

Magnus and Alec looked at each other, sharing a piteous look. "Can you cover up her scars at least?" he asked Magnus. "The Marks haven't been healing. At all."

"Physical injuries! Yes! Of course. I can also try to conjure up an amulet to strengthen you up but if Marks haven't helped, I'm sure any amulet would run out of energy after a couple of hours, if that."

It didn't matter. She wanted any little bit of help she could find to be at her best for Jace. She took off her flimsy sweater and showed him her left arm. Both of them winced though it didn't hurt nearly as bad as it looked. She'd become numb over the last week, another one of those little things she knew were going to come back to haunt her later. "Go ahead," she urged. "It's just a flesh wound."

Magnus scoffed, preparing himself for a long day of healing. "And World War II was just a little scuffle."

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Jace spent the afternoon walking the streets of New York. There was no space to think at the Institute. Every statue, every book, every bit of carved wood made him long for Clary. He knew it wasn't healthy to fixate on someone so much but from the moment she walked into Pandemonium that night, he could think of no one else.

This is why when the only person he ever cared about starts distancing herself bit by bit, he automatically freaks out.

He wasn't precisely looking for trouble but, being him, it was hard not to find it. But, for once, he ignored the unoffending werewolves and continued on his walk. His subconscious had already decided where he would go for answers.

He stopped before the entrance to Central Park and, with a determined sigh for courage, continued on his dangerous path.

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Clary scratched at her arm. Though her scars had been perfectly covered by what she could only imagine was a glamour. She tried to see if she could scrape it off but nothing. She was safe. She skipped the sweaters and donned the first skimpy tank top and plaid skirt she could find. Though not entirely at her best, she searched the halls for Jace with a silly grin on her face.

She came upon the library and found Robert Lightwood sitting at his desk, an eyebrow raised at a passage in the Chronicles of Prydain. "Afternoon, sir," she greeted, always careful to be polite around him. Silent men made her nervous.

"Afternoon, Clary," he responded, not lifting his eyes for a second. She was always glad to see that her presence at the Institute was so easily accepted. She was worried it would get awkward but after the first week, they just saw her as an extension of Jace's arm.

"Would you happen to know where Jace went, sir?"

Robert shrugged and, as though suddenly remembering, answered, "I think he went hunting, dear. Why don't you ask Isabelle? I think I saw them talking over breakfast before."

She thanked him and went in search of Izzy. She found her still sitting in the kitchen, hovering over a large coffee cup and talking, seemingly, to herself. "You all right there, Iz?"

Izzy snapped out of her thoughts and turned to Clary, scanning her outfit. "Someone's looking for action."

"Is it obvious?" asked Clary, looking down at her green top and matching gray skirt.

"No no. It's very Catholic schoolgirl. He'll love it."

Clary smirked, proud to have Isabelle's approval. "Know where he's gone?"

Just then, a loud knock came at the Institute's door. It seemed desperate and hurried so both girls ran to see who it was. The worst ran through Clary's mind. Last time, it had been Raphael with Simon's half-dead body in his arms. This time, it was Meliorn with a very similar expression of impending doom.

Isabelle tensed, her eyes wide. "Mel?" she breathed, holding her heart.

"I'm sorry but you need all need to hurry to the Seelie Court," he announced, barely noticing Isabelle though that wasn't very different than usual. Clary never understood Isabelle's need for trouble.

"Do we look stupid?" asked Clary, looking down again and regretting her statement. "Why should we?"

Isabelle seemed to know without Meliorn speaking a word. "It's Jace, isn't it?"

Clary gasped and reached for the door to steady herself. Meliorn didn't have to answer. She could already feel Jace falling away from her into a deep chasm, his angel wings clipped and bloodied.

"I shouldn't be here but you needed to know. He's asked a favor from the Queen."

Isabelle gulped. "What did he ask? What did she want in return?"

"He wanted the truth. She didn't need to trick him. The truth nearly killed him. If you don't come before sunset, he'll be trapped forever."

Clary felt worse than last night because she knew this was her fault. The truth was hers to give and no one else and no amount of self-pity was going to bring him back.

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And the plot thickens! Muahaha!

I wrote something called "Behind Closed Doors." It's a ridiculously long one-shot featuring Magnus and Alec and it's the dirtiest, sexiest piece of filthy smut I've ever written. It's strictly for mature audiences so follow the link on my profile for my LiveJournal post. Anyone can comment there so please do. You know I'm a review whore. They make excellent birthday presents, since I'm turning 19 today. Hells yea!

Reviews are better than Catholic schoolgirl outfits… I should know.