Chapter four: Goddess
A/N: I'm so mad at myself! I was re-reading this story, and my little breaker-thing (the one I put when I switch POVs) doesn't show up in FanFiction! Making my story kinda hard to understand, what with it just jumping around POVs randomly. So I apologize for that, I'll be correcting that from this chapter on.
Another note, this chapter is dedicated to ClarissaMorgenstern, (http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/u/1713533/ClarissaMorgernstern), because without her help, there would be no chapter four... and with no chapter four, there would be no rest of the story, so after you read this, go read her stuff :)
That night, Clary was more restless than ever. It was like she wasn't even sleeping, something that tiring and energy-draining could not count as sleeping. She was confident she would be more rested awake.
She saw horrible things, horrible creatures, horrible outcomes if she didn't use the runes. She saw death. Everything she saw in her dreams reeked of death. She saw the runes. The lethal looking runes. They weren't anything she could comprehend, but somehow the words sightless, soundless, and scentless came into her mind. Like they were being whispered by the runes themselves in a horrible , daunting voice. Only, she'd used all three of those runes, and none of them looked like the ones in her head.
She wanted to wake up, but she couldn't. She felt trapped in her own mind, unable to leave. Like she was in a coma. Was this possibly what her mother went through?
Over and over and over again, she saw the three runes. She saw disgusting, dangerous creatures she couldn't possible fathom on her own. She saw death. And then she saw one more rune, one completely unreadable, frighting rune. A rune you would have to kill her to get on her body. The only thing she knew about this rune was that it looked much too dangerous to be drawn on anyones skin. What would happen if it was drawn on a human? She didn't want to know.
Finally, she awoke with a gasp. Jace was sleeping peacefully beside her, unaware of the mental stress Clary was going through.
She got up quietly, without moving the bed. Pulling on a hoodie of Jace's, she tip-toed off to the basement.
She wasn't in the mood to hail a cab or get in a wreck with her awful driving, so she decided to portal over to Luke's. She needed to be alone, and no better—or other, for that matter—place than there.
Watching the rune open up into endless possibilities of locations, she cleared her mind and thought of nothing but Luke's living room.
Once she was there, face down on the hardwood floor, she brushed herself off and began looking around the kitchen for something to keep her awake.
Nervousness took over her body, anxiety coursing through her. She wasn't sure what she was so nervous for, but she hated the feeling.
As much as she hated it, she was also semi-familiar with it. Anxiety. Clary couldn't remember a time when she didn't have panic attacks. They didn't come too often, but completely overtook her when they did. The first when she was five, going off to kindergarten for the first time. She thought her mother wasn't going to come back for her and she felt like she was going to die then and there, in that bright, happy classroom.
From then on out, she would have them from time to time, but making sure to keep herself in check if people were around, and if she started hyperventilating, she would make sure she was alone. No one except for her mom, Luke, and various school nurses knew about it. Even Simon and Jace were in the dark on the subject.
She wasn't having a panic attack yet, but one was sure to come. The sickening anxiety was enough to keep her from going to sleep for however long it takes for her to feel right again.
The quick beating of her heart, the fluttering in her stomach, the sweating, the heavy breathing, the cold, sticky feel of her skin. She hated it.
She tried watching TV, but nothing held her interest. She couldn't focus on what she was watching. Her dreams coursed through her mind as if she were still sleeping.
Reading was pretty much an equal failure. A little more of a distraction, though,but not for long.
So instead, she scoured the kitchen again, looking for something to keep her awake. She was afraid to go back to sleep, afraid she might not be able to wake up. She knew when she was having a panicky day, energy drinks were the last thing she needed to keep her calm, but she was running out of options. She couldn't go to sleep.
A Red Bull. Clary preferred Monster, but she didn't really have a choice in the matter.
She downed it quickly, not really paying much attention to it. Her mind was elsewhere.
She thought about Jace, about the ridiculous number of women he'd been with, but also what she and Alec talked about. She thought about her mom and Luke in Idris. She thought about the Lightwoods and her beloved Downworlder friends. But above all, she thought about her dreams and the runes that seem to be etched in her brain.
Trying to take her mind off of things, she wandered around the apartment. She knew everything about the apartment, though. It was like trying to entertain yourself by looking at your own house you've lived at for as long as you can remember. There was one room that she wasn't too familiar with...
She made her way to Luke's bedroom, a place she never really spent much time in, not that she could remember.
It was a bleak room. Not one Luke actually spent much time in. A dark wooden dresser, a white nightstand, a midnight blue bed, with various pictures of Clary and Jocelyn and other random trinkets were all that decorated the room.
She walked around, noticing the thin layer of dust that settled over about every surface in the room. She was careful not to touch anything or move things around, Luke of all people would be able to notice something like that.
His nightstand drawer was slightly askew, though, opened just a little with a few papers hanging out. Curiosity overcame her common sense as she made her way over. She was dead set on not snooping, just looking, but that plan had failed the second she slowly and carefully opened the drawer.
Inside were ordinary wrinkled papers, a few frame-less pictures, some scattered pens and whatnot. But none of those things caught Clary's attention. The box of Trojans sitting square in the middle of them all was what did it.
Clary's cheeks heated up in embarrassment, even though she was the only one near by. At least the box was unopened, in perfect condition, never been touched.
It reminded Clary of Simon's mom, who supplied Simon with a box of condoms when he was just fifteen, and showed him and Clary (on a vegetable, of course) how to put it on. She took these precautions because she was dead set on the idea of Simon and Clary together, and she didn't want them to finally realize their love for one another and get too caught up in throes of passion to care about protection, especially if it weren't accessible and they didn't know how to use it. Almost her words exactly, scarily enough.
Clary made sure to put the drawer back to it's original position, slightly jutting out, and left the room.
Again, Clary began to wonder aimlessly through the house, not really paying attention to where she was going.
She didn't even notice when she ran into a shelf, knocking one off Luke's little statues down.
She picked it up, noticing it was Kali, the Indian goddess of destruction, one of her personal favorites. She looked so victorious and powerful, standing strong with her head tossed back, a holding a powerful sword in one hand, a disfigured, severed head in the other, waving them through the air with pride.
She was more than a bad-ass warrior, created to kill demons who could be killed by no other, mortal or otherwise, she was a leader, a powerful goddess.
The statuette became hot all of the sudden, not unbearably so, just kind on shocking.
Her head and feet were cool, but as Clary slid her fingers up and down, she noticed it was the hottest around the shoulders.
Not the shoulders, though, the wrists, horizontal and very close the shoulder in the way she was standing.
In tiny, tiny script, Clary noticed something on the wristband of the goddess, something strange. She squinted to see it, finally making out three little symbols.
Symbols known to no one but Clary and whoever was sending them to her.
Only three of them, though. Soundless, Sightless, and Scentless, but not the traditional kind. The kind that appeared in my dreams.
**~**~**~**~**
Clary struggled with what to do about the statue and what exactly it meant. Should she tell Jace? Luke? The Lightwoods? Her mother? It was all too confusing. Too confusing and stressful.
That sense of dread still lingered in the air. Why? Clary didn't know. She knew she was just overreacting and the Red Bull didn't help much with the fluttery, erratic beating of her heart.
She wanted to see Jace, seek comfort out in him, he always made her feel safe. But she needed to clear her head and think things through before she goes and sees Jace.
What was she going to tell him? More importantly, what would his reaction be? She didn't want to tell him anything that could possibly endanger him. If he knew how scared she was of these runes, he'd insist her Marking him, or her draw them out so he could Mark himself. Neither would she stand for. And the last rune, the scariest, the biggest, the most complex and demanding rune, he would insist she draw as well. He would take things head-on, throw his fears aside, something Clary still wasn't very good at.
But maybe she should let Jace do what she thought he was going to. She could Mark them both, and they would go through everything together. They were part-angel, they were probably the best candidates to even do it.
More than anything, she wanted to talk to Luke about it. He'd know what to do, how to handle things. Clary couldn't remember the last time she felt like she needed Luke this badly.
And Jace, she sought out the comfort he gave her, how secure and warm she felt when she was with him, how absolutely perfect he was for her.
Clary was disgusted with how many women he'd been with, but he couldn't change that or take it back. If he could, she knew he would. And how could she really blame him for it? Most of them were when he hadn't even known her, and a few were when he thought that Clary was his sister. She'd feel a little better if he got tested... but they could deal with that some other time.
For now, these runes were what they had to focus on.
Sure, Kali had the runes in her dreams, but what did it mean? And where was that fourth rune...? Clary felt like the stress of everything was weighing down on her harder and harder, before it would finally just make her snap.
AN: Short chapter, but they're getting bigger and better from here on out. I sense a rising plot coming your way... You have no idea how important this chapter is to the story, so thank ClarissaMogenstern for that by reading and reviewing her stories :)
Speaking of read and reviewing, well... I write so much faster when they come in... favorites and alerts please me, but nothing beats a good ol' review!