11. Comfortably Numb

We finally got him calm. It took time, but we got it. I never acted that way before for… anyone. Other than Clary of course. I had thought long and hard about what Clary has been saying about the boy, and I have come to realize that she is right. He didn't chose to be like this, it's like a demon is personally torturing him every time he closes his eyes, or turns an unknown corner.

No! Torture isn't the word for it; I think taunting is a better word. Because sometimes taunting is just one step further than torture. It is somewhat worse. There was a small part of me that was glad that the boy's parents were dead, because they wouldn't have to see their boy like this. I know I wouldn't. I guess it's the same for my real parents. I'm sure if they saw the way I nearly ended up it was break them deeply.

I watched as Clary helped him into more comfortable clothes after a long day of just trying to comfort him. I silently told her that we would start tomorrow with his learning. He was too stressed and scared to learn anything at the moment. Right now we needed to show him that the images he keeps seeing aren't real. I was hoping- praying that he wasn't schizophrenic, because that meant the images will never leave him without proper medication from a mundane doctor. I was hoping it was just trauma. Angel knows I went through it, the images are long gone now, but it took so long for me to realize that it was only my own mind betraying me. How long will it take this boy? I may have been through a lot… too much for any child to go through, but I never knew there would be a day where someone suffered even more than I did. Not that it's a competition. Not in the least. But I just thought I had gone through the worst, never thought what it would be like to not feel.

Clary was getting ready to place him in her bed, when I stopped her. She looked at me curiously, as I gently took her shoulder. "Let me." I said to her in a whisper. Her eyes filled with worry, as she looked down at Adam whose eyes remained glued to the floor in front of him. He wasn't scared, he was ashamed. When Clary's eyes came back to me, she started stuttering her words.

"J-Jace, I am not so sure that's a good idea-"

"It's okay." I stopped her. "Really. We'll be fine, just trust me." She looked back at the boy's sad feature, and again at me. I knew what she was thinking, but she didn't want to say it out loud. It wasn't me she didn't trust, it was Adam. I could handle a child, regardless of how dangerous he was. He may be abnormally strong, fast, and deeply disturbed, but I was inhuman.

"Please," I said. "Just trust this." I motioned to my heart in my chest. She finally gave in and nodded. She knelt down to Adam's level, who still wouldn't look at her. She took her index finger and gently forced his chin up to look at her.

"Adam, if you need anything. I will only be down the hall, alright?" He didn't nod; shake his head, or anything. He was back to being vague with us, but I knew why. He had let us in too far today. He let out his vulnerable side, and he had been taught not to do so. He was trying not to do it again. I know this, because I have been there.

She stood up, and came to me. She crossed her arms over her chest and shivered slightly. It was a bit cold in the house today, but part of it I am sure was fear. She looked up at me with longing eyes hidden under her bangs. I couldn't help my movements, of my hand making way to her face and moving her hair behind her ear. It was always an instinctive habit of mine- when it came to her. "Please," She whispered. "Just… be careful." And like that she quietly left the room. I looked down at Adam who was staring off into space. I strode over to him, and surprised him by lifting him up from under his arms and placed him in the bed. It was the first time he made true eye contact in hours. He was looking at me in pure shock. I smiled down at him, and started tucking him in under the covers.

"I know what you've been through." I said quietly. "And I am here to tell you that you don't have to be afraid anymore." I looked up at him; he was gripping the covers, and looking around the room, fear flowing through his eyes. I knew what it was immediately. "You're afraid of the dark, aren't you?" I asked him. His eyes came back to me. He looked like he wanted to respond for a split second, but thought better of it. "It's okay." I said, and looked around the room too. "If it helps," I said looking back at him. "I am still sort of scared of the dark myself." That was the truth. "My father…. My so-called father." I corrected myself. "He use to lock me in the seller for days, weeks, till this day I'm not quite sure how long, but there was no windows, just the one door, and the only light that I saw was when he would turn on the light in the hallway outside the door. I only saw that light every so often when I was down there, and it wasn't enough to brighten the room." He was looking at me with a whole new view now. His eyes had softened, and his body was less tense. "He thought that would break me of my fear." I told him. "It didn't… it only made it worse."

I sighed, and tucked him in deeper, before standing up and searching the room for some kind of light. I found a flashlight hidden under Clary's mess of clothing. One thing that drives me nuts about her; she is so damn unorganized! I walked back to his bed, and sat on the edge handing him the flashlight. "If you get scared, turn this on." I switched on the light for him, making the room illuminate. "I'm going to tell you a small secret. He held the flashlight tightly, and looked at me with curiosity. "I don't know if you remember fairy tale stories your parents may have read you, but regardless whether you remember or not, I am going to tell you." I smiled down at him. "Magic, fairies, warlocks… they're real! So since magic is real we use it to keep any monsters from entering the house at night. So as long as you're in here, nothing can get you." I know that not too long ago I was snapping at Clary for not quite understanding what magic truly was, but it was the only way to explain it to a child.

I saw a small smile appear on his lips, not a very big one, but I knew it was there- even if it was hard to see. I smiled back, and whispered goodnight to him. I went to leave, but I felt his hand on my wrist. I turned back to him to see that he was sitting up and tracing one of my scars with his index finger. He was concentrating on it very closely. That was when I truly noticed the long one on his cheek. I used my hand to make him look at me, so I can get a better view of it. Man it was a nasty one. It was deep, and started from his temple to all the way to the corner of his mouth.

"This," I pointed at the scar he was looking at. "I did to myself, cause I'm a douche." I chuckled to myself. But then I lifted my sleeve to show the others. "These… he use to cut me, he would continue to cut me until I got used to the pain." I said softy. Then Adam sat up on his knees, and shifted until his back was half way facing me, and lifted up his shirt; revealing many scars all along his skin, up and down his back. He let his shirt fall, and faced me again, then brought a finger to his scared cheek and then put up one finger in front of me. He was telling me that was the very first scar…

Something came over me in that moment, something I have never felt before, and whatever it was made me lift him up and into my lap where I held him close. I let him bury his head into my chest as I held and rocked him. I now understand why mundanes insist on apologizing for something they didn't do. "I'm so sorry." I whispered in his hair. "I promise I wont let anyone hurt you! Never again!" He surprised me by gripping my shirt as tight as his little hands would let him. He usually is limp with actions such as comfort, but he was welcoming it now. I only wished I was as lucky as he was at his age.

I didn't have Clary yet.

0o0o0

I tucked him in, and he soon became comfortable and welcomed slumber as I left the room. I went into the living room to see Clary sitting on the floor with piles of books. I could see some were about sign language, but others were on psychology, or other medical terms. She also had her laptop with her, where she was searching. I sat down in a chair across from her; she looked up at me and at the sight wrinkled her nose. "Where you crying?" She asked me. What? I brought my hand up to my eyes and started wiping.

"No," I answered a bit too quickly. "Allergies, my eyes are just really teary and itchy is all." She attempted at lifting and eyebrow to no avail, but smiled secretly and looked back at her computer screen.

"I've been researching his disorder." She said. "Everything Magnus told me is true, but here's some scary details about it as well."

"It's not going to kill him? Is it?" I asked slowly, with a bit of fear in my tone. She looked up at me sadly, but also confidently too. Which relieved me.

"Yes and no. They say most kids born with this disorder don't live passed age three, but no one with is has died due to it yet. I think doctors just like to scare people." She rolled her eyes at the subject. "It says that due to the fact that they do extra ware and tare on their bodies compared to people who do feel pain, it causes weakening of the joints, so they don't walk so well by adulthood." Okay, that's starting to bother me, so by the time he is twenty-five he'll be crippled? "But," She added. "With the right therapy, and healthy diet it can be avoided. Mainly what we have to watch out for is chewing, and bone breaking because he'll be so rough with himself."

"Chewing?" She looked at me, almost like she was a bit disgusted at the subject I just questioned. She bit her lip before answering.

"You know how out of habit we'll chew our nails, on our lips, or our inner cheek-"

"Like you always do when your nervous- chew on your lip?" I smiled at her. She giggled and nodded.

"Yes, but for them because they can't feel pain, they'll basically…. Chew it completely off!" Okay! That is disturbing. I sat up straight, and shivered due to the fact that someone could basically… bite off their own tongue without even knowing.

"He sucks his thumb." She said. I looked up at her again, willing to pay attention. "But when he falls asleep with it in his mouth… he bites on it. I saw that this morning. He had bit clear through the skin. So we have to watch him closely, he could bite off his whole thumb! We have to check him all the time for cuts, bruises, and scrapes…. Even in his mouth." She looked at the screen again, like looking for more answers.

"That's not fair." I said out of nowhere. She looked at me, and nodded.

"No shit. Of course it's not fair."

"No!" I interrupted her. "I meant that he's a fucking boy for Christ's sake! He's going to get hurt, even if he tries not to. We're men… we're like fucking accident prone."

"Well, you're different. You're just crazy." She giggled.

"Clary, I'm serious." She stopped giggling and bit on her lip to try and suppress it. "He should be allowed to be athletic if he wants."

"I never said he shouldn't." She said softly. "We just need to keep him in check, that's all." I let out a breath, and sat back in the armchair. This wasn't going to be easy, I knew that. I wasn't sure if we were ready. I wanted to suggest letting a mundane family take him, but then the thoughts of what she said before came in. No one would take him. They would see just how much trouble he would be, and simple go for the easier child. That made me feel even more like shit. What made me any different than those families who ignore the child that needs the most love? God, I'm a prick!

"We also need to remind him every so often to use the bathroom." She said suddenly. I opened my eyes and looked at her.

"What do you mean?"

"It says that they can't even feel the sensation of having to pee. It says they may feel some pressure, but not enough to know how badly they need to go."

"Well he hasn't pissed himself, yet." I said with a little sarcasm.

"No. He might already be on top of it." She shrugged. "Maybe his parents worked on that with him, and that's why he's good at it."

"Okay." I said, then thinking of what I was going to say earlier, before Adam had his episode. "But what about therapy that you mentioned before?"

"What do you mean?"

"Regardless Clary, he's human, a mundane, and he deserves a mundane life. So lets say we cure him, and he's a happy normal little boy. What about school? What about friends? After school activities? What about all that?" She put her head down, looking a little unsure of herself, and maybe even a little sad. I truly didn't mean to be a downer; I was just trying to bring up the reality of the whole thing.

"I haven't really thought of it." She said quietly. "I've just been thinking all this time that I want to help him." She looked back up at me, fear in her eyes. "You're not suggesting that when we're done we ship him off, are you?"

"No."

"Than what are you suggesting?" Her voice rose at a higher level, and I shushed her.

"Quiet, you'll wake him!" She looked in the direction of her bedroom, then back at me before lowing her voice.

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything." I answered her. "I'm just bringing up a point. If we plan on keeping him, we still need to keep our world a secret. It's the law!" She knew I was right, she was thinking, I could always tell when she was thinking. She bit her lip as usual, and spaced off. I couldn't help but grin at her cute face.

"We can keep it a secret. Hell." She threw her arms in the air. "My mother was able to keep it a secret from me! Right underneath my own nose! Whose the say we couldn't hide it from his friends?" She was right. Okay so we got that covered. For now.

"How are we going to reenter him into the mundane world when he's ready?" I asked. "The mundane police have probably declared him dead since he's been missing for so long."

"We have Magnus for things like that." She answered. "He put a spell on Simon's mother when we all were in Idris, right?" That's true. Finally one more question.

"How do we know how old he is?"

"He's eleven." She answered quickly.

"How can you be so sure?" I asked, leaning forward on my knees. She rolled her eyes at me.

"I found the newspaper article; it said he disappeared five years ago when he was six, that makes him eleven."

"Depending on when his birthday is…" I answered simply. She opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again, she knew I was right. We had no clue when his birthday was. We didn't know a whole hell of a lot about this kid at all. She was thinking about it again, when she finally came to a conclusion she nodded and said.

"We'll have to look up public records! And we'll have to do it our way."

0o0o0

"Mom, maybe you should just let them… handle it on their own."

"They're already too young. Do you believe they'll even last in their relationship?"

"You have no idea!" He yelled at her. "What those two have been through. You and Jocelyn just don't understand!"

"We're parents, and we know!"

"Yeah because the both of you are truly wonders at relationship advice!" She turned and slapped him hard on the cheek, but Alec chose to pretend it didn't even hurt.

"You will watch your tongue!" She pointed a finger at him. "I don't care how old you are, or if you work with the Clave or not! I am your mother, and you never speak to me that way again, Alexander Lightwood! Understand?" He just nodded, not wanting to open his mouth and give in to her.

"I am calling the clave, and I am going to sort this out. Neither of them are capable of taking care of a child, especially a mentally disturbed mundane child!" She turned and made her way to the library leaving Alec in her wake.

But they were capable, he thought. Who else could get through to someone like Adam other than Jace? He's been there, done that, and back again. Only he would know how to respond. And Clary is the reason Jace is sane. He couldn't have picked more capable people himself….

There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship's smoke on the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move
But I can't hear what you're saying.

When I was child I had a fever
My hands felt just like two balloons

Now I got that feeling once again
I can't explain
You would not understand
This is not how I am

I have become comfortable numb

When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye

I turned to look, but it was gone
I cannot put my finer on it now
The child is grown
The dream is gone

I have become comfortably numb…