Him and Her

Clary POV:

"Mom, I'm not six, I'll be fine. Can't you just leave me alone?"

"Honey, what's the matter?" Jocelyn's worried voice only serves to annoy Clary more as she hastily grabs things for Simon – comic books, juice drinks, a packet of Pop-Tarts, three razor sharp knives – and shoves them into a backpack.

"The problem, Mom, is that my best friend has just been thrown out at sixteen and you – you think that it's too dangerous for me to get the subway to go see him. Do you know how many creatures would love to see the great Daylighter defeated?"

"The Mark of Cain-"

"Everything, everyone can die. Do you think there aren't enemies out there? Do you think they won't do anything to hurt us, to hurt Simon?" She's really angry now, jerking the zipper and nearly breaking it when it gets stuck – by the Angel she hates the damn thing.

"I know there are demons, Clary, don't talk to me in that tone! We have enemies and so we must avoid them, which is why I'm forbidding you from leaving this Institute! So don't even think of taking a single step outside till daybreak."

It's the sentence that snaps everything between them.

For a moment mother and daughter stare at each other, one middle aged red head with lines drawn too young on her face – one sixteen years old, her backpack slung over her shoulder, looking like there was a stranger before her.

"After everything," Clary whispers, "everything I've had to face because you wouldn't tell me the damn truth when you had the chance – you still think you can order me about?"

"Please, Clary," her mother pleads, but Clary stalks right past her. "I don't want to lose you."

"And I don't want to lose who I am. Not again."

Perhaps the barb, the reminder that her mother blinded her for years was too much but Clary has no intention of apologising, and she instead slams the door behind her, satisfied at the sharp sound it makes. It feels like each hurried step taken away from her mom is freeing her, every moment of defying the rules is making Clary her own person, and that makes her feel both elated and strong. Even as the anger, no the fury ebbs away she doesn't feel like turning back and crying to her mom like she used to. And if something feels good, like a right that's been denied to you your whole life and finally given, then surely it is so.

As she goes though the Institute she passes Jace's door and for a second, hesitates.

The man she loves is sleeping in this room. She should knock, ask for him to come join her – he'd do it in a second. But he's been so distant recently, putting up barriers, not talking to her. And she's fine by herself; she shouldn't let her mother's babying get to her. She smiles and moves on, leaving Jace to sleep the night away.

She takes the elevator down to the street – even at 3 in the morning lights are on and cars clutter up the street, and there are taxi's carting drunk teens to and from the New York clubs. The subway is nearly empty, just a few hoodies who back off when they see the knife peeking out from her top pocket. She dodges a policeman on her way out, as silent as the night with her shadow hunter training.

Simon told her he's outside his house, waiting for her – she could hear the pain and betrayal in his voice, even as he tried to hide it. She has to go through back streets to get to him but she doesn't care – she's done much more dangerous things in her short life. With her knife and her runes she's perfectly safe.

That was her last thought before the Manticore.

"Darling? C'mon, wake up. You need to eat." A cool hand brushes against her forehead and she mumbles something – she doesn't know what, but it makes him laugh. "No need to have that attitude angel, it's just time to get up."

Raphael. It all comes back suddenly and she opens her eyes to find him staring down at her, a taunting smirk written all over his beautiful face. One hand caresses her skin from her cheekbone to her lower jaw and he rubs his thumb over her cheek, making her eyes flutter closed for a second.

Downstairs there's a thump and a feral roar, breaking her out of her revere. She sits up, realising a second too late that the clothes aren't familiar, but thankfully they aren't indecent either. A green silky top, a pair of low slung jeans – perhaps showing off her curves a bit more than she'd wish with a vampire around, but nice, soft against her skin. She eyes Raphael's hand, now hanging loose at his side, and tries to ignore the little tingle from his cold touch.

"Welcome to the Hotel Dumont. Congrats on surviving night one, you're doing better than most." He grins at her, perched happily on her bed and borderline in her space, but she notes that his enthusiasm seems a little masked, a little fake.

She doesn't remember much, just being flung from the sidewalk and hitting the concrete wall with a thud. It wasn't much of a fight – it had her pinned within a second, and it was quick to prove to her who was boss. She remembers it being torn off her by powerful hands, the flood of cold air on her bloody skin, and the monster that killed it. She hadn't recognised Raphael at first, he'd always seemed so clean and clinical to her – the vampire that ripped into the Manticore with his teeth was someone else entirely.

"I – I need to phone my mom. And Jace, and Simon – my god, I said I'd meet Simon." She rolls out of the bed, which is in a sparsely decorated but still grand room, and looks around for her phone. To her surprise Raphael is holding it, and he isn't offering it to her.

She looks from her mobile held loosely in his cold grip to his eyes, blank and dark. She takes a step back, brushing against the bed – his bed, most likely – because if he wants to stop her contacting anyone, if he wants to kill her, she is completely defenceless against him.

"No need to worry, I'm not going to tie you up," unless you want me to seems to be the unsaid message, "but I don't think you should call your mom yet. It's a long story. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she mumbles, realising for the first time that she has at least three bandages on. She sits back down, wishing she'd had a few hundred more hours to sleep with.

"Liar," he laughs, "you look terrible. What on earth possessed you to go wandering out at night? There are bad creatures in this world angel, and not all vampires would be as kind as I was."

She shrugs, defeated – his quick voice, his piercing gaze is making her dizzy. "Simon's been kicked out, he phoned for help. Of course I went."

"Ah, as always, anything for the daylighter. And Jace, why didn't he go with you?" Raphael, Clary noted, seemed to have mastered the twenty questions game.

"He was asleep," she says, hoping that he didn't notice that she-

"You flinched at your boyfriends' name. Trouble in paradise?" But no, the almighty vampire with hyper senses never misses anything.

"Look," she says, trying to sound authoritative, "can you give me my phone and let me leave? I'm alive, hurrah, and I promise never to do it again. I seriously need to go help Simon."

His wicked grin and excitable energy soaks away, like a layer of paint being stripped down to reveal the blank and dead funeral mask. It's so sudden that it's like time has stopped, only a viscous sort of patience and fury in his dark eyes showing that he's still sort-of living. Then he sighs, the moment breaks, and holds out his hand for her, every bit the gentleman and the human. With his beautiful, sharp mask back in place, he gives her a smile that shows off his fanged front teeth.

"Will you come with me? There's something you need to see."

A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed seeing some of the dashing Raphael again, and one of those wonderful mum-fights we all get into.

Leave a review for me if you want a review for you, though I warn you I can only review in fandoms I actually know. Guten Nacht, meine Freunde!