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CHAPTER FIVE:
Separation Anxiety
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You're all amazing. Seriously. 100 reviews and counting after only four chapters. You guys all deserve freakin' Ferraris. But, since I'm a penniless writer, I bring you a chapter instead. Keep it up! Oh and the part about her being a distant doll comes from the epilogue of City of Glass where he comments on her fancy dress. It's one of my favorite scenes. Enjoy!
This chapter's song: Yesterday by John Lennon/The Beatles.
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The cliff was there. Jace was there. But she felt something else, something lingering in the darker parts of her mind. This was a dream but it didn't feel like a dream. It felt like a memory or, better yet, a premonition. She reached out for Jace's hand but it didn't feel real. She knew she was asleep somewhere – in a ditch for all anyone cared.
"Jace?" she whispered into the darkness. He had yet to fall but she could feel it looming at any moment. She knew if she blinked, if she breathed, he would be gone. She didn't turn to face him but she knew he was there, this blond figure in the corner of her eye smiling at her.
"I'm sorry, Clary," he said. "I wish you didn't have to suffer with me."
She couldn't help her mouth. It moved for her as though the dream was something concrete and irreparable. "I couldn't live with myself if I knew you were in pain and did nothing to stop it."
"Why should you care? I let you suffer too. I watched for months knowing something was wrong but was too caught up in my own doubts to trust you. I love you, Clary. I'll always love you." She couldn't see Jace's lips move but it was his voice. She knew it anywhere. It enveloped her, making her chest cave in with warmth and pleasure and the strangest feeling that everything would be better somehow.
"But you're not real," she finally said of her own volition, pulling her hand from his. "You're just a figment of my imagination. You can't love. You can't feel. You never could."
She finally snapped out of her trance, stepping out of the concrete, and turned to face him. The hair was the same blond and silky and long, and the elusive planes of his face were still elusive but she noticed for the first time the darkness of his eyes. Black, like coal. Like the bottomless pit by their feet.
And she knew she had to wake or risk being lost to the darkness forever.
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"You know," said Magnus in a low voice, an eyebrow raised. "I don't think I've ever had a girl in my bed before."
Alec's eyes shot up off Clary's limp body to the warlock towering anxiously over him. "Seriously? In over 300 years?"
Magnus shrugged. "I usually made them sleep on the couch and I don't think any of them were even remotely human."
Alec rolled his eyes. "Well, I suppose that's comforting… in a way."
"Yea, for you. I'm still wondering when you'll leave me for a ditzy blonde in 38Ds." They both grimaced and shook the image out of their heads. "Sorry. That was uncalled for."
Clary chuckled softly and tried to sit up, her eyes still closed. She had two amulets the size of moon rocks around her neck and it still felt like gravity was trying to impale her into the bed. "You two sound like an old married couple sometimes. Did you know that?" she mumbled, holding her head. There was no humor in her voice and her eyes were puffy like she'd been crying for hours instead of sleeping.
"You gave us a scare there, kiddo. We thought you'd gone off to the happy demon-hunting ground in the sky," said Magnus, going to sit on the other side of the bed.
She reached up to wipe away a tear but she wasn't crying. She had been in her dreams but not here. This was a strange sanctuary. "I think it's pretty obvious by now that I'm not cut out to fight demons."
Alec and Magnus shot each other a worried look. "Don't talk like that. You're just having a fight. He'll get over it and you'll be back in the Institute in no time, kicking trans-dimensional ass like a pro."
She scoffed. "When has Jace ever gotten over anything?"
"True," the boys answered in unison.
She tried to get out of bed, trying to get rid of the tingly feeling in her legs, but found herself crashing face first into the plush, purple carpet. "Have you heard from him?" she grumbled into the fibers. Alec bent down to help her stand but it took both of them to get her off the ground. "Did they heal him okay?"
"He's just fine. Don't worry about him. Alec made sure he was okay before he followed us," he lied. They had no idea if Jace was okay and they couldn't care less. The others hadn't seen her collapse outside the Institute. They hadn't seen her eyes roll back into her head and her pulse slow till almost nonexistent. Jace had been alive the last time they saw him. Clary could go at any moment.
"Clary, I think we should tell them what's wrong with you," said Alec softly. "If Magnus was sick, I'd want to know even if I couldn't do anything about it."
"Ditto for me. Only you'd bet I'd try anything before I gave up."
"That's the problem," she replied in a husky voice, her throat dry. "I know Jace. I know he loves me and I know he'd make a deal with the Devil himself to keep me alive. And that's just it, Alec. I'd rather die myself than put him through that. I'd rather he hate me than mourn me."
Magnus went in search of a glass of water as Alec tried to help her back onto the bed. "Shit, Clary. If you know he loves you, you know he'll continue to love you even after you push him away."
Magnus shushed him from the kitchen. "Don't tell her that!" he hissed, running in. "Girl's got enough on her head to worry about. We don't want her thinking she's fucking up the only good thing she's ever had. That would just be cruelly realistic."
Clary and Alec both shot him deathly looks through squinted eyes. "You asshole."
Magnus grinned and handed Clary the plain, clear glass. "Don't spill that or I'll melt you into the couch and give the remote to Chairman Meow."
"Is he still addicted to Battlestar Galactica?" joked Alec, trying to change the subject. Humor seemed to liven her spirits.
He nodded. "He's going through withdrawal symptoms now that the new season's not starting for another month. Poor thing twitches in his sleep."
Clary smiled despite herself and rested back on the headboard, looking up at the strange tin ceiling. All they could do now was wait. Clary was waiting to die. Alec and Magnus were waiting for her to give them permission to alert Jace. And Jace was waiting somewhere for her to beg forgiveness, something she would never do.
"Where's my sketchbook?" she whispered some time later. "I remember I had it with me when I fell. Can I please have it?"
Magnus nodded and handed it to her, the pity back in his cat eyes. "Stay as long as you need, Clary. I'm going speak to those doctors I was telling you about. Alec is going to stay here with you. Try to sleep."
But none of it entered her mind. As soon as she saw that sketchbook and pen, her mind was a distant second to her hands. She flipped open the pages and started drawing for hours. She didn't get up. She didn't eat. She barely blinked. Her eyes watered over, smearing the ink, but she didn't stop.
She drew buildings, drew silhouettes, drew landscapes, drew corner upon corner of the city… but it didn't matter. It wasn't enough. She drew because she was looking for someone, a shadow too quick for her mind's eyes. But she didn't need to look because it always knew where she was, even when she couldn't see it.
It knew because it was tied to her. As it grew, she withered. After all, she was the only way it would ever leave the city of ink.
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"You're a bitch, Iz," growled Jace as she disinfected his wounds. "Just use the damn iratze!"
She laughed. "Draw it yourself, you ass. Oh wait! You can't, because you punched a hole in my wall and broke all your fucking fingers!"
"I've still got two legs and I can kick the shit out of you. Fix me up!"
She rolled her eyes and pulled out her stele. "Fine!" she shouted, practically stabbing it into his flesh. "But you better believe this is the last time I patch you up, Jace Wayland. This is the last time I fight by your side and the last time I forgive you for one of your crazy stunts. You're such a fragile, stupid idiot! Yes, Clary was wrong to stay behind but did you ever think she had her reasons?"
"Are you seriously taking her side?" he spat back, outraged. "You were just yelling at her two minutes ago!"
"She deserved it and so do you." She crossed her arms and, after fixing his knuckles, sat back and watched him wrap himself up on the corner of her bed. He looked funny sitting all erect on the very edge of the bed. Even if he was pissed off at Clary and Isabelle was like a sister to him, he still felt like he was cheating by being in another girl's bed.
A moment passed and he seemed to calm down. His shoulders hunched and, barely able to move, he leaned forward onto his knees for balance. "Did she—" he began but quickly stopped himself.
Izzy raised an eyebrow and crossed her legs, leaning back in her chair. "She's hiding something but you know she's not cheating on you, Jace."
His eyes flew to her. Her voice was so sure. "But you said—"
"It doesn't matter what I said or what I believe! I can see it in your eyes. You don't believe for a second that she's seeing someone else. When would she? You saw the way she reacted when I told her what the queen said."
He buried his face in his bandaged hands and winced. "I can't look at her, Iz. Every time I do, I just think I'm looking at this doll that talks and walks and feels real but it's not my Clary. Something's going on. I know it is. And until I figure it out, I just can't bear to look at this reminder of what I lost."
Isabelle didn't say anything, though she wanted to. She couldn't bring herself to feed into his delusions.
"I do love her," he said after some time of stillness.
"That," she replied through gritted teeth, "is yet to be proven."
She stood up and snatched her jacket off the back of her chair. "Where are you going? Isabelle!?" he called after her, unable to follow in his weakened condition. "Women are going to be the end of me!"
He lied back in bed, careful not to aggravate his wounds, and tried to close his eyes. Though his mind was a bustle of thoughts and regrets, his body was too tired and he fell asleep.
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Two hours passed before he felt a hand gently nudge him awake. He sat up, not bothering to open his eyes. He could smell Magnus' cologne all over Alec's favorite pair of black leather pants. "Alec, you smell like a Thai brothel in mid-day sun," he groaned, testing to see if he could open and close his hand without problem. It hurt like hell but he could do it. In reality, he was doing everything possible not to look Alec in the face.
"Aren't you going to ask me how she's doing?" Alec said through gritted teeth, taking a few steps back.
"Not you too! I'm the one that gets beat up and you're all taking her side? She cheated on me, Alec!"
Alec scoffed and pushed Jace back on the bed. Something told Jace he was almost punched out. "You listen, you idiot! She didn't cheat on you! Stop making excuses! And I know you want to ask me how she is so stop pretending."
His angry eyes turned back down towards his bandaged hands. "How's she doing?" he finally whispered, trying to sound nonchalant. He was too tired to fight against and the queen's persuasions were wavering. His head had to be clearing but he didn't want it to. It was easier when her eyes weren't piercing his memory with their pain and helplessness.
"I don't know," shrugged Alec honestly. "I left her drawing."
He nodded, staring at the floor now that his hands had become boring. Alec had moved to the seat by the vanity table on the other side of Izzy's room. "That's all she ever does now. It comforts her. That's good."
"Aren't you going to go after her?" Jace shook his head.
"I'm afraid of what I'll say or do."
Alec rolled his eyes. "You deserve each other then. You're both cowards."
Jace stood suddenly. "I am not a coward! Look who's talking! When did you find out you were gay, Alec? When you were three? And you told your parents when? Yesterday?"
Alec domed his fingers and glared across the room, his face swallowed by shadow so only his brilliant blue eyes shined through as two thin slits. "You'll go see her. You won't be able to stop yourself."
And with that, Jace was left with a little more to hold onto but no real knowledge of her state of being. She was still lost to him. She was still too far away and would be for some time. He looked around the room and prepared for the agonizing weeks to come, telling himself it wasn't pride binding his feet.
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Alec returned to Magnus' the next night. He'd called Clary – per Magnus' instructions – that day to check on her and she'd seemed fine if not a little distracted. She told him she was drawing which, according to Jace, shouldn't surprise him. Now, she was sitting on the floor by the bed in the dark room. The moonlight came through the window, encircling her. She was still drawing, in the dark, and it instantly sent his internal warning system ablaze. He clutched the pen away from her and threw it behind him. "Clary, what the hell are you doing?"
She blinked twice and looked up at the slender silhouette before her. "Jace?" she whispered hopefully, her voice full of pain and desire.
He shook his head. "No, Clary. It's Alec. Can't you see me?"
She blinked twice and smiled, her eyes not really focusing on him. "Oh yes. Hello Alec."
Alec grimaced and stepped back. Her voice was eerie and distant. He reached for the light in the room and illuminated her eyes. They were strangely overcast. She closed them, the light blinding her, but Alec caught the gray just before she turned away. He knelt down by her side on the carpet and cupped her face, turning her towards him again. "What's wrong with your eyes? Let me see!"
She shook all over. "No! I'm getting out of here. I have to see Jace!"
She pried away from his hands but he gripped her shoulders before she could stand. "Why? Why do you have to see Jace?"
He felt like he was talking to a child, another figure within her. This wasn't Clary and he wasn't getting any answers. "I need to feed!" the creature within her growled and he fell back on the carpet, trying to crawl away from her. He tried to move back but kept tangling himself on the drawings spread out over the floor.
Before he could call for help or even stand, Clary shook her head again as if clearing the cobwebs and she was herself again. She saw him splayed back on the carpet, trying to sit up with his wide open eyes, and instantly ran by his side.
"God, Alec, are you okay?" she asked, pushing her hair back behind her ear. "I didn't hear you come in."
He scoffed and looked around for someone to collaborate. Was he going insane or was Clary… possessed? He wasn't sure whether he should take her outstretched hand but she took his before he could decide. He stood and looked back down at the stepped on, broken pictures.
"Oh… I'm sorry. I stepped on your drawings," he said distantly, unsure of his surroundings. His voice showed no emotion.
"Oh don't worry about it. I was just doodling."
He gave a dry laugh and looked around the room. There were drawings everywhere, done in black ink. She'd had to change pens at one point because there was a small patch of black in on the carpet where one pen had apparently exploded. Her hands were covered in black and there were patches of ink on her cheeks were she scratched with the wrong end of her pen.
He bent down towards her thinned sketchbook and plucked out the final drawing she'd been working on. It had to be a final because the lines looked deliberate, not clumsy and hurried. It was a clear drawing of two black eyes. He didn't know why but they looked so familiar. For a moment, they looked like Clary's – the same oval shape and…
And he didn't have a chance to finish the thought. Magnus came in through the window, off a vampire's flying motorcycle. He had a huge smile on his face like he'd just solved the mysteries of the universe and was shortly followed by a very short man with russet skin and white face paint and animal skins.
"What the hell happened?" asked Magnus. "It looks like da Vinci threw up in here."
Clary looked around for the first time. "Did I do all this? I'm sorry, Magnus... I didn't realize what I was doing."
Alec shot Magnus a look of frantic worry, nodding towards the other room behind Clary. "Don't worry about it, Clare," said Magnus, following Alec outside. "This is my buddy Ja'id Su. He's good party people. We'll be right back."
The small, dark-skinned man bowed to Clary and she smiled awkwardly. "Nice to meet you," she said softly, scratching her head. They'd been left alone. "So... Mr. Su, is it? Would you happen to like Naruto?"
The man tilted his head to the side and shrugged. In the distance, they both heard a very loud, "WHAT?"
Clary excused herself and went running as far as her legs would take her to the next room where Magnus was hugging Alec tenderly. When she came in, the pulled apart and turned to her, fear written all over their faces.
"What is it?" she asked, holding onto the door frame of the bathroom for dear life. Her eyes started fluttering closed but she tried to ignore it. "Is Jace okay?"
They didn't say anything, just continued to stare at this creature before them. It looked like Clary. It walked and talked like Clary. But it wasn't her. It never had been.
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By now, you should be able to guess what's hurting Clary. In the style of the author, you find out before the characters do. Just shh! Don't tell Jace! Any guesses on what's killing her? I'm dying to hear your theories. They're probably wrong but I'd love to hear them. If we hit 200 reviews, I'm continuing this thing past the original 8 planned chapters.
Reviews are better than ditzy blondes in 38Ds.