City of Wayward Sons

by ValykirieRevolution

Set in between 5x04 -5x08 and the beginning of City of Ashes. As Sam, Dean, and Castiel struggle to stop the end of days, Clary and the shadowhunters are at a loss to defeat Valentine. After a chance encounter in NYC team free will and the nephilim are forced to work together to save the world. Various pairings and warnings inside.

6. If they did not meet

Disclaimer: Don't own either series; no profit gained what so ever.

Word count: 12,550

Enjoy!

Chapter 6: If they did not Meet

Clary walked to Simon's house, her sneakers crunching over the pavement, she ignored the blaring sirens in the distance as she went past the news stand and crossed the street. The daylight made her eyes water in the crisp air. The pale sky seemed to threaten rain, but not even a breeze threatened the pedestrians going about their daily business. It had been a week since Valentine's ship was destroyed. Since she had destroyed it. Clary trembled just thinking about it. The fire that had ravaged itself on the deck hadn't been her doing, but the way the ship had come to pieces was. The sound of the rivets shooting out of their places and the water wresting control of the ship. The feeling of being swept away, limbs flailing and unable to get enough air as though she'd never breathe again, pulled deeper down. Her body was just a toy to a force much greater than herself. Clary felt the raw force slam into her, sliding above and below her as though she was a cell in the bloodstream of a powerful beast. Even though her lungs were seared and her eyes aching from the blurry sight of her half squinted eyes, she felt something.

There was something that she only realized in retrospect. She had been left in awe, as the chunks of fire plummeted into the water, almost as if they had been ripped away from the sky itself. The brightness hurt to look at, lighting her vision all the way to her eyes sockets and she felt painful recognition and longing. Although she couldn't put her finger on it and that was the frustrating part. As soon as a reasonable explanation came up, the feeling vanished. Almost like the fire doused in water, the smoke clouding her thoughts. That was a close as she could get to remembering. That following week was uneventful, yet strange for both the same reason. After the ship broke, Clary woke up the next day feeling so weak and dizzy that at first she thought she must have gotten sick from being in the water for so long. A visit from Magnus told her otherwise, as she had used too much of her abilities. Clary didn't know that could happen and she ended up having to lie in bed a couple of days. Other than that, nothing much happened. Everything went back to normal, which was what made it so strange.

There was no word of Valentine, it was so quiet. Nothing stirred in Downworld, not a thing. Luke didn't say much, but Clary could sense his frustration and behind that, the frustration of the other Shadowhunters. Valentine loose was cause for alarm, with or without the soul-sword. Clary agreed with Luke when he had said that it was safer to assume that Valentine was alive and probably with the sword. Clary wrapped her arms around herself, her jacket unable to ward off this particular chill. Now that she was up and about the first thing she wanted to do was see Simon. She hadn't gotten a chance all week, but now she eagerly walked over.

As far as she knew, Simon had gone back to school but Clary hadn't pressed for details. She smiled, she'd get them. Knocking on the familiar red door, she was greeted by Simon's mom. Mrs. Lewis smiled when she saw Clary.

"Oh hello Clary, it's nice to see you again. Come on in." She led Clary into the cluttered living room. "Simon told me you hadn't been feeling well, so it's nice to see you up and about."

"Thanks Mrs. Lewis. It's good to be up."

Mrs. Lewis smiled again. "I bet. Simon's just outside. I'll bring you guys some lemonade here in a bit."

"Thanks so much." Clary grinned at Mrs. Lewis.

Clary shut the back door behind her, careful not to slam it. The Lewis' backyard was small, they were lucky to even have one but it was a cute one. An old trampoline was still in the back from the days when Clary and Simon were kids. It was how they passed many a summer day. There was a small flower bed from when Simon's mom still tried to grow flowers, although now it was taken over by weeds. Occasionally she'd try to get Simon or his sister to pull them up, but it hardly worked. Now the weeds were dying like the rest of the greenery in the yard. Her shoes crunched over the leaves that were just beginning to fall, their colors paler than the reds and golds that still clung to the trees branches.

Simon was in the center of the yard, lounging on a blue, plastic beach deck chair. He had it reclining as far as it could go. He was lying back, in full view of the sun. His eyes were closed, face smooth and youthful, illuminated by the sun's glow. He looked so peaceful, but a sudden horrible jolt coursed through her when she realized that his face would always look youthful. Simon blinked, lifting his head. His eyes were half lidded from sunshine and sleep. He smiled, looking even younger by the sweetness of the cheer in his face.

"Hey. I thought I heard you."

"I didn't say anything."

"I could hear you breathing."

"That's not creepy at all."

Clary sat down next Simon, the crisp grass crackled around her legs. She leaded back, the rungs of the beach chair digging into her back like an anchor. With her arms wrapped around her legs, she sighed as the sunlight warmed her skin and chased her chills away. Since Simon was this close to her, her pulse thrummed happily to know that he was alive. Nice and familiar to be back side by side in his backyard again.

"No more creepy than Valentine's disappearance."

"Ugh. Do we have to talk about this?"

"Not really, but there is something I want to talk about with you."

"Shoot."

"I think it'd be a good idea if we didn't see each other."

Clary swiveled to face Simon, suddenly feeling sicker than she did last week. Cold all over and dizzy, she could feel the color drain from her face. She almost doubled over as though a boot had kicked in the stomach, almost to the point that she could throw up on the spot. She licked her lips, wondering if she could speak. Clary had trouble focusing and she had to trust her voice to do what her eyes couldn't.

"What?" she squeaked. "Is it the fighting, because if you want I can make sure that you never have to fight again-"

"It's not that."

"Then what? I don't blame you for not wanting to be with me, because I've done nothing but put you in danger and ruin your life-"

Simon's cold hands clasped on her shoulders and she gasped. They never felt that way before, back when he was human. Back when he still had a life that wasn't filled with bloodshed and crazy Shadowhunter plots. All that normal ripped away and all of it her fault. His grip tightened and the chills penetrated her bones. She looked him in the eyes, the bright light hurting her eyes. Even with the sun, his face couldn't be obscured. The light lit up his hair catching in the strands of it and giving it a polish. His dark hair was mussed, giving him a sleepy halo. His face was a bit more angular it seemed, but then sometimes he'd turn his head and she thought that she imagined it. His newfound beauty seemed like an illusion, or maybe she was just in denial. Every time she looked at him, he'd turn and she'd see a new angle of him. It was like trying to catch water. His skin was paler, the faint tracing of veins snaking into sight. It somehow didn't detract his appearance. It was only by looking into Simon's eyes that Clary could read anything. They were so lustrous and dark, as though they never ended and they flashed in the sunlight, revealing the hidden shades that gave them the deep coffee brown and burnt bark of a tree in winter. Clary blinked because it was hard to concentrate when Simon stared at her so intently, a sad smile on his full, plump lips. The rest of his expression seemed aghast.

"I didn't mean that I want to stop being your friend. Just that I think we shouldn't date anymore."

Relief so profound, she actually staggered when the sick feeling left and became flooded with a sad kind of understanding. Simon continued.

"I mean I'm glad we tried an' all, but I guess it just wasn't meant to be."

Clary felt defensive, agitated on their behalf. "Why not?"

Simon rubbed her shoulders. "Probably because there is someone else you love."

Clary tensed. "I love you."

"But not in that way." Simon said.

"I could. I want to."

Clary scooted forward as Simon gave her a rueful smile. Suddenly, he seemed taller, older, and maybe a bit wiser. Clary tilted her head, trying to pinpoint when it was that Simon had grown up without her. It made her realize she was saying goodbye to the old Simon and that this was the end of something between them. So Clary wondered when it would happen to her, if she could catch up to him, so she leaned forward, pressing her lips to Simon's. They were lush and cool, open with surprise. She pressed firmly, happy to for the soft response of flesh touching flesh. This would always be comforting, easy. Maybe it was because they would always be a part of each other. Simon gently pushed Clary back, smile still sad.

"We've been down this road before. I don't want to go down it again."

"Is it because of Jace?"

"Only a little."

"It's wrong."

"It's not like you planned on it, it's just something that happened."

"It shouldn't have."

"You should stop blaming yourself. It's not your fault and neither is what has happened to me."

Clary blinked, her mouth opening slightly. Simon grinned in response. Clary knew that it meant that he knew he took her off guard with his insight. Clary nodded to him in reassurance. They were good. Simon suddenly stood up, looking very pleased with himself. Clary looked up at him, tilting her head.

"It's not fair that you're so grown up now." she teased.

"You've got plenty of time to catch up." he grinned.

It was like the sunlight pushed back the clouds and somehow froze this moment in time with its beams. Almost as if this were just another day, but everything had changed and yet it was as if the moment itself was telling Clary that it was alright. She could feel a small part of her mind preserve this moment, with such a bittersweet joy that it made her breath hitch. Yet…Clary smiled, she didn't want to lose this feeling ever again and she wanted to feel every bit of joy that could be gleaned. So she willed herself to laugh and was at ease when Simon joined her. Everything would be alright. Simon tilted his head to regard her, the sunlight dancing in his eyes as they reflected more than just light.

"Now that you're all cheered up, I better get going."

"Get going?"

"Yeah, I told Jo I'd help her and her mom look for their car."

"Tell them I said hi."

Clary watched Simon heave himself off his makeshift lounge and stride across the lawn and into the house. She studied the broadness of his shoulders, wondering just when it was that they started to move with purpose.

SPNTMI

Beth Israel Hospital was a clean, efficient place and its halls becoming much too familiar path for Clary's feet. The nurses were becoming recognizable on a first name basis and Clary knew which vending machines had the better stuff, what was the best time to visit the cafeteria, Most of the time she went with Luke, since it seemed he didn't want to go by himself any more than she did.

Clary walked past ICU and gave a small wave to the nurses at their station. Going up the stairs and past the various departments, and the elevator that could at any moment, erupt with emergency activity. Once, Clary had caught a glimpse of the ER in a heated flurry of doctors, nurses, and victims from some horrific accident and was grateful to be led away by Luke. Now, the elevator was silent and Clary went over to the quiet niche where Jocelyn's room was. It was a small and unassuming little corner by the emergency fire escape, with this floor's nurse's station down the hall on the left hand side. This was where patients who weren't leaving any time soon were placed.

Despite this, it was busy-a hospital is never truly idle so Clary was used to hearing the hustle of the staff and their patients. There was a hush, like a weary sigh that went through the halls undetected by everyone but her. Clary was suddenly nervous. Luke had gone ahead of her and Clary now felt the childish desire to run after him, but she curbed it and willed herself to calm down.

There, like magic, was a woman with silver hair. Clary saw the woman's face float back into memory, like a dream, like ripples from water. She recognized this woman; she had been in the truck with her when the ship blew up. The world seemed to pass them by as a nurse in pale pink scrubs. Would the world end up passing Jocelyn by too? Suddenly, Clary didn't want to be afraid anymore and she strode up to the silver haired woman. The woman was young, at odds with the color of her hair; her eyes were wide and solemn. She was as slim as Jocelyn, but seemed somehow more real, more substantial than what Clary would have thought. Maybe it was because only Clary could see her, could connect with her when the rest of the world did not see her. Clary's footsteps echoed too loudly for her ears as though they shouted out her-her life was about to change. Her feet dragged her to her destination, a path that she could not identify and had no hope of finding out. Clary's head spun so fast that the feeling left her reeling, squinting heavily.

Clary's eyes blinked open and the harsh buzz of light seared her eyes, making her head spin. Nausea welled up within her and she felt too weak to stay up, the rubbing of her clothes on her back felt abrasive enough to give her chills. She took a steadying breath and the nausea subsided, letting her eyes crack open. Her eyes watered as she tried to stay rooted to the ground and she let the colors seep back into her vision. The noise of the hospital surrounded her as the daily current of patients, doctors, nurses, and visitors streamed through. The P.A. trilled, but Clary didn't bother listening.

Luke had gone on ahead only Clary was there to protect herself. Clary stared at the silver haired woman. Clary rubbed her forearm, somehow believing that she wouldn't have anything to fear. Clary willed the sick feeling to pass, focusing on the silver haired woman. She knew this had something to do with her mother. The woman went unnoticed by the rest of the bustle of the hospital and that proved she was glamoured to be unseen by mundanes. A man wearing scrubs walked right passed them without comment and Clary glared at the woman.

"I'm not in the mood for this. Who are you?"

Clary ignored the rest of her surroundings, pinpointing her stare to the woman, picturing her nailed in place by it. She seemed unperturbed by the glare, just saddened.

"My name is Madeleine and I know your mother."

"Okay…? Well you know that she's in a coma right?" Clary snapped.

"Not quite" Madeleine stated. "Her state has been artificially induced by a spell."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying Jocelyn put herself in this state."

Clary lurched forward, grabbing Madeleine by the arms, hard enough to bruise. Madeleine didn't seem fazed and stared back at Clary. Her gaze was still piercing, but somehow soft. Maybe that was why Clary relaxed her grip. There was something about the expression Madeleine made that held Clary back, kept her from shouting at the older woman. When another nurse walked by, Clary felt oddly sick. How could anyone stand to glamour themselves just because they didn't want to be seen? An odd thought flashed through her-would the world pass her by, leaving her to just watch as people would stare past her and hurrying on with their lives. Intellectually, Clary knew people would do that regardless of whether or not they could physically see her or not, but either way-the perceived rejection hurt.

"Let's do this in private."

"Oh…alright then."

Clary strode forward and then had to bite back the irritated sigh at Madeleine's speed; the woman caught up easily to Clary's stride. Clary scowled. She had no real idea where she wanted to go, but it seemed Madeleine did. She made a beeline for Jocelyn's room, finding it as easily as Clary had. Clary was relieved that Luke was not in the room.

'Must have gone to get more coffee.' Clary thought.

Either way she was glad Luke wasn't here. This felt private for some reason, and she couldn't bring herself to break that kind of spell. Madeleine turned to look at Jocelyn as Clary shut the door, but she didn't miss the look the older woman gave to her mother. It was the equivalent of a too full cup and Clary almost felt bad for seeing it but it was what clinched it for Clary. This was the moment when she decided that she would trust Madeleine no matter what. She watched Madeleine sit down, her chair close to Jocelyn, but her sights were set on Clary. Her hands were resting in her lap, and Clary let herself get mesmerized by the scars crisscrossing along Madeleine's palms and wrists.

She was sitting firmly, with squared shoulders and her lips were closed. Clary stayed silent, feeling the hairs on her neck stand up. Licking her lips, she could have sworn she tasted copper. Clary carefully sat herself down and waited for Madeleine to speak. She swallowed once before speaking.

"I first met your mother when we were both children, before we went for schooling. We lived so close to each other that we could see each other every day and we spent as much time in each other's houses, almost more than our own homes. We shared everything. So it seemed only natural that we would train together as well. Of course, this held true for Lucien Greymark as well. There was a time when the three of us were inseparable. Despite everything, we were brought together in a way that no one ever had managed to replicate in our lives. Jocelyn came from a prestigious family, Lucien an undistinguished one and I from the middle ground of a plain but clever family. When we began our schooling, Jocelyn attracted a great deal of attention, but she never once left us behind."

She paused for breath, and Clary scooted her chair closer. Madeleine continued.

"Then he came along. Valentine." Madeleine frowned. "He wasn't quite the way you would see him as now…but there was something about him. He was charismatic; able to speak to you on a personal level…he had some kind of pull to him, so that you wanted to follow him. Even so, I never trusted him, not because of that-there were many people who had leadership material. There was something about his eyes that upset me."

Clary nodded her head rapidly, but Madeleine was still speaking.

"Either way, my thoughts on the matter didn't, well matter. Valentine had a following. Although at the time, his power had no political ties. He was a school-yard king and the classmates he gathered to him were a motley crew. Robert Lightwood, who was afraid of get marked, Maryse Trueblood whose brother had left the Clave to marry a mundane. Hodge Starkweather who was disliked by the majority of our classmates, and Lucien began to adore Valentine, and it seemed that it was reciprocated. It seemed that the whole school was enamored of him. All but Jocelyn and I. Valentine was interested in her even then, but Jocelyn was unimpressed. She had teased Lucien and the others for their admiration of Valentine. It was only after the death of Valentine's father that Jocelyn began to see him in a different light."

Madeleine continued. "It was how the two became close as our school days drew to a close. The two were constantly in each other's presence so no one was shocked when they announced that they would be married. Hearty congratulations were offered up, except from me. There was something about that man's eyes that unnerved me; his smile seemed too false even when he sounded sincere…" she trailed off, as if unsure how to continue.

"So basically it was a gut feeling…?" she could understand that, but…"One thing I don't get is why?" Clary struggled to elaborate. "From I've heard, everybody trusted Valentine, looked up to him-"

"Yes. By the time Valentine had graduated, he was already rising into the ranks of the Clave, but-" Madeleine interrupted herself. "But I'm getting ahead of myself. It was at school that Valentine had established his Circle; he had already voiced his ambitions to them. He had wanted to change the world."

Clary snorted.

"Yes. As strange as that may seem to you, the best of intentions were in mind. Our intentions of course, but intentions are never enough. Valentine was making waves so to speak."

"How?" Clary asked.

"By the way he wanted to change the Clave. To abolished the old-fashioned laws and even allow us to walk among mundanes. In those days, Downworlders were hardly ever mentioned. It seemed so reasonable…so right for so many." Madeleine sighed.

"I guess I should ask how something that didn't sound bad could turn out so wrong. How Valentine could have turned out so wrong, but honestly I don't really care." Clary said.

Madeleine shrugged in reply, in a way that made Clary think that Madeleine was of the same belief, but her eyes clouded. Clary peered into the woman's face, trying to pick apart the reason for Madeleine's wet eyes. The woman stared back at her calmly, but Clary didn't feel an ounce of shame. So Clary nodded her head and Madeleine continued.

"Either way, when we all graduated Valentine became a member of the Clave easily, rising into the ranks around the same time that he married your mother and Lucien and Valentine were parabatai. I was the only one who had my doubts about Valentine and when Jocelyn told me of her intentions to be his wife, I told her of my doubts. She rebuffed me and it had been quite some time when we next spoke."

Clary had a feeling that Madeleine had glossed over the details, but she waited for Madeleine to finish speaking. The silver haired woman looked overcome with her story, as though it was spilling out of her.

"Some time later, Lucien had told me that Jocelyn was pregnant. It was the last conversation I had with him. It was only until much later that I heard of what had become of him and his condition. I tried to find Lucien after the Uprising, but I was unable to. So much had happened. It was only after the Uprising that Valentine's depravity was fully realized. It seems that ever since, a pall has been cast over Shadowhunters."

Clary sensed that the story wasn't fully finished yet, but she was curious. "So since Valentine was so…revered before everyone figured out his true colors, how was it that you figured it out before everyone else?" she asked.

"I'm not sure how to explain it. Perhaps it was my upbringing, but I had always been more comfortable in the presence of Downworlders than most Shadowhunters. As I had said before that Valentine's followers were the ones on the fringe of society. I was one such person. Valentine had once tried to 'collect' me for his followers. He spoke to me as if I were an equal…yet whenever he spoke of a downworlder-I couldn't fathom the look in his eyes. Too cold and somehow…gleeful. Or rather that isn't the right word for it, but there was something in him that didn't stop, that always strived at the expense of others. Valentine and I spent some time in each other's company; I had introduced him to Ragnor Fell, a warlock who had been a family friend to both Jocelyn's family and mine. I trust Ragnor's judgment of character and when he told me of his thoughts on Valentine, it only increased my foreboding. I stayed clear of Valentine ever since."

"Ok…but what about Mom?"

"It was after Lucien had been reported as dead, after the birth of Jonathan, and before the Uprising that Jocelyn visited Ragnor Fell. It was only by happenstance that I was there, visiting Ragnor. It was on that day that we spoke to each other again and she confessed to me, what she had told Lucien. That she was afraid of her husband and afraid for her child. I had sensed that there was something that she wasn't telling, but I didn't press the matter. She seemed to know something of great importance. At the time I had no idea that she was referring to the Uprising, but Ragnor was the one who seemed to sense her meaning better than I."

Madeleine took a shaky breath. "Jocelyn was determined to stop her husband and should she and her son would be in danger. Ragnor sat the two of us down and the three of us began to plan. Ragnor had given her a spell, the very one that put her in this state. It was done in the event that Valentine should ever find her, she would be unable to yield to him. The spell itself is found in a book-a warlock tome called The Book of White. It is where the reversal of the spell can be found. Yet, Jocelyn is the only one who knows where the book is."

Clary sucked in a breath. "So-you don't?"

"Afraid not. Both Jocelyn and Ragnor thought it best to keep its location hidden and secret."

"But if mom is in a coma-" Clary cut herself off before continuing. "Even still…is it possible to meet Ragnor?"

"I'm not sure that's wise…"

"Please?!" Clary's voice became ragged. "I have to save my mother!"

Madeleine was silent, wide eyed and pale. At least her hands moved as she bowed her head, her silver hair cascading down her shoulders and concealing her face. Her shoulders were rigid, but Clary couldn't bring herself to reach out to touch the other woman. Clary felt herself dangling on the proverbial cliff as Madeleine held the decision in her hand. For a moment that felt like an eon, and when Madeleine finally looked up, Clary released a breath.

"…Alright. I am planning to leave for Idris tomorrow-"

"Perfect! I'll meet you here tomorrow!"

SPNTMI

The kitchen was noisy with the clattering of pots and pans. The smell of boiling meat and vegetables made the air steam as the countertop was littered with various bits of cookery. Jace watched as Isabelle bustled about the kitchen, fixing something that Jace didn't really want to care to find out. Isabelle's attempts at cooking were the only sounds in the kitchen. Jace looked at Alec, who was sitting opposite him. The air felt heavy and Jace's shirt clung to him and the silence settled into his lungs. Jace didn't meet the blue gaze of Alec, whose sharp eyes pierced Jace's insides. Jace clenched his fists and breathed through his nose. His shoulders flexed as if bracing for a fight, but it took Jace a few moments to look at Alec in the face. The look in Alec's eyes was wide with icy sorrow. It was almost inscrutable-because Jace was supposed to know every expression, every facet of Alec and the fact that there was something in Alec's face that he didn't recognize put him in such a strange state of agitation that he knew that he had to rectify the situation. Immediately.

"Something you need to say?" Jace asked.

Alec flushed, his gaze softening before he glanced down. He took a breath and squaring his shoulders before looking up and back at Jace. The gaze was clear and bright. The agony etched onto Alec's face made the angles of his face stand out against an unusual bone like complexions. Jace knew the look came from Alec feeling the need to speak his mind despite everything. Jace flinched; he was the cause of that anguished look.

"Yes." Alec said. "About the ship…about Valentine."

Isabelle slammed the pot she was holding onto the counter, making a crack onto the countertop. The soup that was inside it splashed out, the hot drops prickling on Isabelle's hands, but she didn't even flinch. Instead she glared at Alec with a mixture astonishment and indignation. Her eyes shimmered suspiciously under the bright lights, almost looking too bright and wet to be believed.

"Alexander Gideon Lightwood, how could you even think that?! Jace is our brother and he would-"

Jace held up a hand, cutting Isabelle off mid-sentence. Isabelle 's mouth open and closed for a few minutes before she swore violently and slammed a few more pans onto the stove, which hissed in protest at the harsh treatment. It made Alec flinch but he continued to stare at Jace.

"That night, you never made clear what your answer to Valentine was. You never said."

"I know."

"I...I know that the Inquisitor had made some mistakes, that the situation didn't call for her behavior. I'm not defending her by any means, but what you did, or didn't do is your choice. I need to know."

Alec's fists were shaking and clenched so tight that he was drawing blood. There was nothing else about him to give away his distress. Isabelle was watching them; she didn't look like she was breathing, her hands still holding a tomato as if she were afraid to drop it. She had become alarmingly pale. Jace could feel something inside of him crackle, as though in a response to a coming storm. There was a violent, wrenching agony inside him that intensified whenever he looked Alec in the eye. He knew that whatever answer he gave would change things forever and he had a sudden mental image of himself dangling on a cliff. Wild hope warred with horrific anxiety. It suddenly hurt to breathe, as those his lungs were caught in an iron vice, taunting him, daring him to spew out his insides alongside his hope. Suddenly he knew he had to tell them the truth. So he did.

When he finished, the silence was deadly. Jace stared at Alec: he could sense more than see Isabelle staring at him; he could only imagine what her expression was. He swallowed as he stared at Alec. Alec was staring at him as if he had never seen him before, his face bleached of all color. He was swallowing convulsively, almost as if he was going to be sick. The blue eyes Jace knew so well were glassy with disbelief and something else he couldn't quite identify. Alec's expression passed slowly over his face, ghosting through his eyes and Jace never knew a fear like this before, making every other adversary seem meaningless. He didn't know how long it would take Alec to speak. For once, he didn't know what his parabatai was going to do. Jace gathered himself, trying to speak.

"Alec."

Alec held up his hand, his mouth trembling. "You…" he said.

"I know." Jace said. "I know-"

"Do you?" Alec cut in, his voice soft and odd.

Jace gritted his teeth and forced his arms to move. He vaguely noted that they were trembling. He reached for Alec. As soon as his fingers brushed Alec's shoulder, the other boy stood up so quickly that his chair clattered onto the ground, the sound echoing with harsh reprimand. Jace retraced his hand as quickly as if it had been burned. He had great difficulty in exhaling, as though he had just finished running a marathon. Alec swiftly turned his head away at the sound.

"Please."

The sound of Alec's voice reverberated in Jace's head the second after Alec spoke. The sound was deadly to his ears, so shaky but roiling as if there were too many emotions to be contained within one word, flaying the vocal cords on the way up through the throat, since the heart had already been shredded. Alec was breathing as heavily as Jace, his eyes wide and nostrils flared. Jace made a sound in his throat that wasn't a word, but just noises that only formed from the language of pain. Jace forced himself to keep looking at Alec, unbearable as it was, he would never forgive himself if he looked away. Alec blinked rapidly, biting his lip so hard it bled and he looked on the verge of saying more, but then the moment past.

Without warning, Isabelle hurled the still hot frying pan at Alec. He barely had time to duck, let alone make a protest. Both boys stared at her in shock. Isabelle's eyes were darker than before, droplets of tears beginning to spill out of her eyes. She gasped out her next words, rage making her voice slur.

"You are parabatai; you shouldn't be acting like this. What's wrong with you?!" she shouted. "Alec…" her voice wobbled. " How could you?"

"Me?" Alec wasn't looking at Isabelle. He wasn't referring to her when he next spoke. "How could you?"

Alec seized the chair he upended and lifted it high above his head with such force that Jace's hair fluttered. Alec was trembling all over and Jace braced himself. The kitchen door opened.

"What's happening?"

Isabelle jumped, setting down the rolling pin that Jace hadn't noticed her holding. The youngest Lightwood, Max stood in the doorway, confusion magnetized by his child-like round face and glasses. He looked anxiously about his three siblings, eyes big with distress. The tension in the air kept him from getting too close. Max looked up at Alec and slowly Alec set the chair down.

"Everything's ok Max." Isabelle said.

Max looked doubtful, but nodded all the same. He turned to Jace.

"Mom wants to see you in the study."

"Alright thanks Max."

Alec strode out of the room before anyone could stop him. Jace stared at the stop where Alec had stood. Jace sighed, and then moved out of the kitchen, ruffling Max's hair as he did so. Behind him he could have sworn he heard Isabelle mutter:

"Idiots."

SPNTMI

Clary watched the pews growing smaller from behind the mesh of the elevator's diamond patterned gates. The movement of the ascending elevator was making her giddy. There was a surefire way to wake her mother up and the plans were already swirling in her mind. Images wildly congregated in her vision, crowding for space as she saw her mother whole and happy in her mind's eye. Clary smiled as the next image of her embracing Jocelyn.

The elevator clanged to a halt, causing Clary to feel the vibrations begin in her toes before shuddering to the tops of her skull, creating a buzz of energy about her being. The elevator stopped and she reached for the gates, when they were yanked open and Clary found herself staring straight at Jace. Her breath hitched. His gold eyes were fierce and unguarded, face pale, the circles under his eyes looking like bruises. His lips stood out in color, looking plump and tight, and only opening when he saw Clary.

Jace managed to look even more unguarded at the sight of her. A brief look of something flashed in his eyes, a small twinge of pain before getting smoothed over into a blank slate of politeness. Clary felt a rumbling in her gut, the deep feeling of uneasiness that was threaded with pain. Heat flooded her body as his gold eyes raked over her with the kind of expression that made girls shiver. Clary felt ashamed to be one of those girls, her mind flashing back to the night with the Faerie Queen…and Clary had to quickly shove the beast back in the cage. Even though it made her heart thud, like poison coursing through her veins that she'd want to keep swimming inside her despite how wrong it was.

Clary licked her lips, willing herself to get back on track. Jace gave her a smile and she was encouraged, but it was Jace who spoke first.

"Well speak of the devil."

"That's not very flattering."

"Well you have appeared." Jace eyed her. "Although I imagine it's not to tempt me." His sarcasm was enough to cut glass.

Clary bit back a gasp with her teeth; his voice didn't give away how he really felt. She shuddered as another memory shot through her, of the ship, with Simon and herself beside Jace, and his voice piercing through her thoughts.

'I was thinking he was my father.'

Jace's wearied look of anguish was still fresh in her mind. For that, she couldn't blame him for trying to find something worthwhile in his father. The same way he was looking now, but his lips cocked in such a way that she couldn't help but dislike. If she could taste the expression she knew it'd be a bitter taste. Clary shivered at the thought. Jace's expression smoothed into something a bit more friendly.

"I was only joking." He said.

"I know. I know." She said too quickly. "Look I know…well there's something I'd like to say-"

"So do I." Jace interrupted. "I just want to say that." Jace looked too uncomfortable.

"Jace…"

"Just let me get this out." Jace said. "These past couple of weeks I've been…an ass."

Clary shrugged; she really couldn't disagree but she spoke up all the same. "Yeah, but after all that's happened." She didn't elaborate.

"Still. I pushed myself onto you, when it was clear that you didn't want that. I was just too pigheaded to listen."

Jace gestured for Clary to come closer and move into the foyer. Clary's boots echoed over the marble, making her teeth chatter. It felt like this was the first time she stepped foot in the institute, exciting but nerve wracking. Jace moved closer, as if he was going to remove her jacket. He put his hands on her shoulders his hands warming her body in a way she wasn't ready for.

"I'm gonna give you what you want."

Clary's breath hitched.

Jace continued. "I know you want me…as family. So I'll just be your brother from now on." He smiled expectantly at her. "Better late than never right?"

Clary gasped, clenching her fists and plastered a smile on her face. She nodded her head rapidly, willing her vision to clear as she felt her eyes becoming moist. Unable to muster up a vocal response, she smiled wider and was rewarded with a relieved but sad expression. Clary couldn't afford to decipher the expression. Clary fished for something to say, the silence stretching on until the clacking of heels on marble.

Maryse entered the foyer, her heels ringing out against the floor like fanfare and Clary slid her eyes upward to take in the expensive looking navy blue power suit that was only a few shades darker than her eyes. Speaking of her eyes, they widened in surprise at the sight of Clary.

"Clarissa? This is a surprise." Her gaze became a bit cooler, more polite. "Was there something you needed?"

"Yes actually. I came here to see you about something."

Maryse's eyebrows rose. "Oh?"

"Um….yeah. I just learned something. A way to wake my mother up, but the thing is…it's in Idris." Clary looked Maryse in the eye. "I need to go there."

"Are you serious?" Jace asked. "You know that only Shadowhunters are permitted to enter, just bringing in a mundane is highly illegal."

The shock on his face was as severe as Clary had ever seen it; he didn't even bother to disguise, but Maryse continued without even looking at Jace.

Maryse cleared her throat. "Actually, the Clave will want to speak with you about the incident on Valentine's ship. They will want to talk to you. I doubt they will allow a mundane to enter Idris otherwise."

Clary gritted her teeth." I am a shadowhunter."

"The Clave won't see it that way. To them you are just a mundane." Jace said.

"At any rate, Clary will have to agree to see them before even going." Maryse said.

"Then I agree." Clary quickly said.

"Well then." Maryse nodded. "We leave tomorrow. We have a mandatory council to meeting to attend because of the incident with Valentine's ship." Maryse looked at Clary. "You may come with us if you wish. I assume you will inform Lucien of this?"

"Yes of course."

Maryse gave her a curt nod. "Then I see no problem with this. Jace, I'd like to see you in the library when you're ready."

Maryse turned on her heel and walked away without a backward glance. Her daughter had the exact same walk. Clary watched her walk, feeling Jace's eyes on her, tearing her eyes away from her retreating figure. When she turned back to Jace, he was indeed staring at her.

"Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" she demanded.

"Just let me handle it.' Jace said. "I'll go to Idris for you and get what you need."

"No it has to be me."

"Clary. Stop being so damn stubborn." He snarled.

The desperation on his face was at odds with the hiss of his words, and he stared her down, eyes glassy and lips pulled back, but the image didn't frighten her. Some deep part of her was being called up, willed forward by the voice clamoring in her mind, the voice that sounded like Jocelyn.

"Are you insane?!" Jace snapped. "The only reason the Clave wants to talk to you is because of my fath-Valentine's ship. If they find out how it was destroyed, you will become a lab rat to put it lightly, before turning you into their personalized weapon."

"You make them sound…well you sound like Valentine."

Jace started and looked at her sharply. Clary winced, but pressed on.

"So you're saying you don't trust them?" she asked slowly.

Jace looked like he had trouble swallowing. "Valentine wasn't entirely wrong on that count."

"I thought you said that you were wrong."

"Clary." He said through gritted teeth.

It was enough to give Clary pause and she sighed, her shoulders slumped as she waited for Jace's eyes to soften, and the coolness of his expression was giving him a bit of a more a remote and somehow more angelic. He closed his eyes for a moment; the simple motion seemed to reveal his exhaustion. His lids were smooth and pale and Clary found herself staring at them, at the brief respite that was on his face. Even though respite was not the right word, he looked more stressed than before, if that was possible. It was the way that he looked so young that made Clary greedily drink in his countenance. After all, he wasn't staring at her. She could look all she wanted.

"I told them that the ship came apart on its own, because of all the oil on board and that the fighting certainly didn't help it."

"You lied to the Clave?"

Jace pinched the bridge of his nose. "What of it?"

"I just." Clary paused. "I just thought that, well it doesn't matter I'm going."

"Damn it Clary!"

"It's my mother! My mother is dying! Don't you understand that?! I don't care if I have to go through a thousand Inquisitors to save her." Jace opened his mouth again. "I don't care how dangerous it'll be. I'll have you to help me."

"Clary…"

"You will help me…right?" Clary's voice wavered. "Jace…please."

"…You can't go."

Clary made a sound. She wasn't sure what it was, only that it came from some hidden depths of her gut. It hurt to come out of her mouth, but she swallowed the bile and tried to see straight.

"Is this about me going to Idris or something else?" she choked out.

He didn't answer.

Clary closed her eyes, trying to breathe deep and draw strength from it. She straightened herself out, exhaling through her nose, she opened her eyes. She met Jace's golden eyes, shivering inwardly at the sight.

"I'm doing this. Even if you can't understand why." Clary turned around. "I'll see myself out."

SPNTMI

Simon kicked a stray pebble and it skittered down the docks and fell into the water with a plunk. The warehouse district had been quiet for some time now, as the sun got higher in the sky, but the chill of the wind had not abated; he didn't feel it, but he knew Jo and Ellen did, so he gave his coat to the younger woman.

They had been at the docks and the surrounding area for hours, searching for the Harvelle's car. A bumper had washed up on the shore, beneath the rickety dock, smelling strongly of brine. It was Simon who found that piece, and for an hour, he and Jo wandered beneath the docks to look for more salvable pieces. Their shoes had crunched over the debris of people, the beer bottles rolled over sand and gravel. The broken bottles and paper cups stuck up at odd angles, with food wrappers crowding around them. Trash of all shapes and sizes were collected underneath the docks, thrown down here as though it was a pedestrians' personal black hole.

Some of the workers had stopped to stare or call out to the three of them, but others didn't even spare a glance at them. The workers thinned out as the trio combed the area, but no luck, no one had seen anything. There was no sign that there had been a car-or even evidence that there had been a major battle a week prior. Simon supposed the Clave had something to do with that. Now that the work day had ended and the three of them were still there.

"I think it's time to give up the ghost." Simon said.

Jo turned to look at him. "Yeah I know."

"So other than the fact that this was your only ride, is there any other reason for trying to find your car?"

"Truck" Jo corrected. "Well it is our only ride, but we could always get another I guess."

The two walked down a ways away from under the docks to walk back to the concrete. The way back was easy to get to, despite having no steps. Simon moved to the stone wall, hauling himself over it and reaching his hand out to Jo, who pulled herself up from the wall. The two then walked the length of the pier, moving towards Ellen, who waved them over.

"Over here." Ellen called.

Ellen had her arms full with bottles of coke and she handed them out as they reached her and the three sat down on a loading dock for the trucks that were driven there daily, bringing supplies for the factories. Their legs dangled over the edge, feet just barely skimming the dying weeds and stray, withered leaves. Ellen took a swig of her coke just as Jo was uncapping hers. Simon held his; the cool feel of the bottle was making him smile in a way that only Clary had been able to this past week. Simon was pretty sure they knew that he was unable to drink his coke, but Ellen bought him one anyway, smiled at him when she saw him shift it between the palms of his hands, and he knock the tip of his sneakers next to Jo's, just like he used to with Clary when they were kids. Simon felt as if his heart would start to beat again.

"Well I think we're just gonna have to give up on this one." Ellen said.

"We were thinkin' the same thing." Jo replied. "We'll just have to find another one."

"Another one?" Simon asked.

The two women glanced at each other before speaking.

"Being a hunter isn't the most reputable job out there." Jo offered.

Simon nodded and for some reason he thought of Clary. He sighed, looking at the coke swirling in its plastic container. When he looked up again, both of them were staring at him.

"What?"

"Thinking about Clary?" Jo asked.

Simon gave a wistful laugh. "That obvious?"

"Nothing to be ashamed of." Ellen said.

"Besides you love her right?" Jo asked.

Simon looked down at his drink again, he knew he'd never be able to drink it again, not like Clary could-or any of his friends really, but he knew that someday he would still be standing when everyone else wouldn't. He shuddered, pushing the thought deep below the surface. His feelings were clear, Simon knew that much and that Clary's were clear to him, but maybe not to herself. Simon didn't even want to think on what Jace's feeling were, even though he knew Jace did love Clary. He didn't like, but he could see it and Jace wouldn't stop…or that Clary wouldn't either and Simon was sure he wouldn't stop either. He smiled to himself; all he knew is that somewhere, in the back of his mind, that that would never change…but everything else would. Simon supposed that would be just fine. He looked back up at Ellen and Jo, who looked back at him, he smiled to them in response but it was the sky that he answered as he brought his gaze upwards.

"Yeah I do."

SPNTMI

The light from the table lamp threw the wallpaper of the motel into a bright slightly garish tone. Sam only spared a glance at it as he stared at his laptop's screen. Dean was laying on one the beds, flipping through channels. With just the two of them, if was oddly silent. The whole week had been quiet as well. Sam closed the lid on his computer and leaned back into his chair. He watched Dean instead. His brother was lying on his stomach, facing closer to the TV than he probably should, his hand loosely clutching the remote. Dean's green eyes were glassy with boredom, and Sam couldn't blame him, a sigh escaping his lips. Dean heard and tore his gaze away from the TV and rose in eyebrow at Sam.

"Dude there is nothing on."

"Hmmm? Oh, no, that's not it."

Dean held his gaze with Sam, knowing this was a conversation that needed to be had. Dean let go of the remote.

"Not much else to do." Dean grunted. "Unless you've got anything better to do."

Maybe it was the edge in Dean's voice that made Sam fixed his brother with a fierce glare. Dean gave Sam a look of bored indolence in response.

"Yeah I do."

"Then let's hear it." Dean sat up.

"We can talk to the shadowhunters-"

Dean snorted.

"Really, I know they're not our biggest fans but when you get right down to it-"

"Dude, you were there, when the werewolf told us what's-er'-face threatened to kill us if we tried to 'interfere' with shadowhunter business."

"Look, I know it's a longshot, but we gotta work with them on this."

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. "I know, but how? They made it pretty damn clear they want us to hit the bricks."

Sam nodded and continued. "Just stick around I guess. Wait to see if Luke gets any leads."

"What makes you think he'd be able to tell us?" Dean groused. "I tell ya, I'd rather hunt."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah well, that'd go over well with the shadowhunters. We'd probably need a permit or something."

Dean smiled briefly. "Probably. Still, I hate all this sitting around."

"Well there's not much else to do." Sam said. "Bobby's got nothing; Cas is back on his god hunt-"

"And probably got nothing too." Dean interrupted.

"Luke has got nothing." Sam continued. "No one has got any leads anywhere."

"What makes you think he'd tell us anyway?" Dean asked. At Sam's look of consternation he elaborated. "Seriously, what reason would he, would any of them have for trusting us, because it obviously isn't a ship exploding or anything that important."

"I'm thinking he's just as much an outsider as we are. He'll keep us in the loop. We should stay in the city."

"I'm in agreement with you there. What we need is more back up."

As this, Dean began to sort through their weapons. He picked up a gun at random and began to fieldstrip it. The familiarity of it was welcome and there among the pile was the equally familiar colt. Sam strode over and picked it up and turned it over in his hands which Dean watched out of the corner of his eye, and his grip tightened on the muzzle of the sawed off.

"Question is will they give it to us?" Sam asked.

Dean recalled the shadowhunters skepticism at the colt and frowned. Sam's grip tightened on the colt, although not in a distressing way, but Sam was frowning, lost in thought and Dean didn't like the direction Sam's eyes seemed to be going. It made him think too much of when Zachariah showed him the future, of the white suited 'Sam' pressing an immaculate shoe on his future self's neck. He couldn't dispel the image of Lucifer's smile, the way his fingers curled around the rose in his palm. His brother's lip brushing against the red petals as he quietly spoke to Dean. He could feel his pulse beat as a monster wore his brother's face and in his mind's eye he aim the colt into the center of the devil's forehead.

"Dean?"

Dean started. Sam was looking at him with a questioning look, and Dean wanted to snap back at him, but reined it in.

"Yeah?"

"You ok?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, yeah just spaced out." Dean cleared his throat. "You know, how about you just give me the colt?"

Sam looked at him in askance and Dean shifted a bit, trying to shrug. Sam's look of confusion turned into reading, the look Dean knew meant he was getting analyzed and he tried not to scowl; he knew he was giving something away, he just didn't know what because he honestly didn't know what his expression looked like, but Sam seemed to realize what it was because his own expression went quickly from suspicion to something akin to accusation.

"You don't trust me with it?" he asked.

"What? What make you say that? Sure I do."

Dean knew the instant he said, that that he did not. However justified that was, it still didn't make him feel better when he saw Sam's face fall and then harden into weariness. Dean resisted the urge to put up his hands however much it sucked, he was in the right. They weren't back to point where Sam could handle something like this; he just wasn't sure how long Sam's compliance with that would last.

"Seriously?" Sam asked. "I know that I royally screwed up, but I can do at least this much."

Dean set his jaw and held out his hand. "No."

"Dean."

"Sammy no. Just give me the gun."

"Look this is my mistake and I'll never forgive myself if I don't fix it."

"Not by yourself. We're gonna-"

Sam cut him off. "We?" He pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. "So how long I'm I gonna be on the bench? If this is your idea of teamwork, then this isn't gonna work."

"What?" Dean shivered. "What are you saying?" he continued. "You we the one who wanted back in."

"I still do, but you agreed to it."

Dean still held his hand out for the gun. Sam clenched it even tighter in his fist.

"Exactly." Dean said. "So just give me the gun Sammy." He swallowed. "We both know that you can't handle this."

As soon as he said it, he regretted it and the way Sam stared back at him, made his gut clench as though it was trying to digest knives. Dean opened his mouth and Sam turned his head away, squaring his shoulders. The soreness in Dean's arm told him he was still holding it out. It looked so absurd just stuck out with nothing for it to hold onto. He slowly retracted it, wiping his mouth. This kind of reminded him of all the times he and Sam would argue over the remote of whatever crappy TV there happened to be, in whatever crappy motel they had been staying at. This was stupid.

"I didn't mean…"

Sam turned back to Dean. "Yes you did."

Dean clenched his fist, hating the small part that agreed. Trust was going to be in short supply these days, and Sam hear that unspoken reply. Dean finally dragged his eyes back to Sam's. The weariness, the almost acceptance at Dean's words was startling and his guilt redoubled, as did his anger when he saw the stubbornness emerge in his brother's eyes.

"Just remember that you were the one who said we'd keep each other human."

Dean flinched, but didn't back down. "What do you want from me?" he asked.

"A little trust would be nice."

"I did and look where that got us"Dean snapped.

"I meant that I need to trust you." Sam snapped back.

"What?"

Sam sighed. "I mean that I need to trust that whenever I screw up-and I know I will-that you won't…just hold it over me the rest of my life, because believe me I'm doing that just fine on my own."

Colt in hand, Sam then strode out the door, its slam echoing another and Dean knew that was his least favorite sound.

SPNTMI

Clary stuffed her favorite red shirt into her suitcase. Books were strewn about the couch; she didn't think she'd get around to reading any of them in Idris, she was too excited. Her smile grew bigger at the thought. Even if Jace didn't want her to come…

"Do you really need that many clothes?"

Clary turned to face Simon. "Hm?"

Simon smiled. "I said I'm not sure you need that many clothes. Aren't you only going for a couple of days?"

"Well a girl can never have too many clothes." She teased.

Simon rolled his eyes good naturedly. "Riiiight."

"Seriously." Clary said. "I don't really know what I should bring. What if they don't let me wear pants?"

"C'ome on, they can't be that old fashioned." Simon replied.

"You'd be surprised."

Simon and Clary turned to see Luke standing in the doorway holding a large package in his arms. He set it down before tossing his keys onto the table and shrugging off his coat. Luke smiled as he shut the door and strode over to Simon and Clary.

"Hey." Clary smiled as Luke bent down to kiss the top of her head.

"I got you something."

"I could tell." Clary grinned. "Can I open it now?"

"Of course."

Luke handed the huge package over to her. The box was cool from the outdoors, its wrapping glossy and thick, but Clary had a couple guesses as to what it might be. The huge bow meant that it had been giftwrapped and she tugged on the huge green ribbon, it slowly unraveled and Clary rubbed the satin-y fabric between her fingers as more and more of it began to fall in her lap.

"C'ome on Fray rip it!" Simon cheered.

Clary laughed. "Shut up."

"Go on, give it a tear." Luke prodded.

Clary rolled her eyes. "Boys."

She began to heartily tear into the wrapping paper, exaggerating the strength of the tearing as she flung scraps of the glossy paper over her shoulder as Simon cheered her on. When the final shred of paper fluttered around her, the box revealed itself to be one from a store that she had seen a couple of times, but the logo wasn't entirely familiar to her. The thick, loopy letters of the store's name seemed familiar, but Clary didn't remember ever shopping there. All the same, she felt giddy as she lifted the lid.

"Look Simon, fancy oooooooh-"

Her teasing croon gave way to an actual gasp. In the box was a beautiful bottle green velvet cloak.

"Oh Luke." She gasped.

Clary wiped her hands on her jeans before lifting the cloak out of the box, as she held it up she heard Simon whistle. Clary wasn't paying attention too much; her eyes were fixated on her present, she loved the way the shade of green was so deep and caught the light, giving it a subtle shimmer. It had a hood and a mantle, which had a simple clasp that took the shape of a leaf. Clary prodded it, and after a few moments of fiddling, realized that it also doubled as a broach. The leaf curved from stem to tip, the edges trimmed with gold and ended in delicate points. Clary peeked inside the hood, feeling the inside of the material. It was smooth, but she knew it could get warmed up quickly. It wasn't fur lined; she wasn't sure what material it was, just that it was meant to be comfortable and practical. She reluctantly tore her eyes away from it to Luke.

"I love it." She breathed. "Thank you."

Luke smiled warmly back. "I'm glad you like it."

"Can I put it on?" she asked.

"Of course."

Clary wrapped it around, maneuvering the clasp so that the mantle was set squarely on her shoulders. Clary looked down at herself. The cloak went all the way down to her ankles and Clary twirled, twisting around to get a better look. Laughing, Clary whirled around, seeing green trail around her out of the corner of her eye. Dizzy, she wound herself down to see look staring at her with a peculiar smile that was wistful and sad.

"Your mother had a cloak just like that once."

"Oh."

Clary felt the sadness heavily, but it was it matched the expression on Luke's face. She held the hood in her hands, nuzzling into it.

"Really?"

"Yes. She was quite fond of it."

Clary felt the urge to ask whatever happened to it, but wanted see Luke with a happier smile, so she turned to Simon. He smiled back to her. His smile was wistful as well, but somehow less sad, just an old fondness. He nodded.

"It matches your eyes."

Clary felt herself flush and she could see he had as well, but he held her gaze. For some reason that fact made her swell with pride. Simon and Luke were still looking at her, and Clary could feel her affection for them grow. Neither of them was particularly happy that she was going to Idris, but they didn't say one word to her about it. Luke had given her a gift for her trip and Simon was helping her pack. Clary grinned so hard her jaw hurt.

"So you're saying I'll fit in with this?"

"Yes."

"They're really that formal?" Simon asked.

Luke answered. "Yes. There are many rules and regulations for entering Idris just as many customs concerning them. Since you'll be with the Lightwoods', you won't have to worry too much. Maryse will keep an eye on you."

"Delightful." Clary rolled her eyes.

Clary sat back down and put her cloak back into its box as Simon began to speak.

"So what I didn't get is why they need to go to Idris for again."

"Because of the ship getting destroyed, the Clave wants to hear it from them."

"Ok, right because the Inquisitor can't tell the Clave herself. I get that, but why do they want to speak with you?"

"Because I was there too."

Clary eyes Simon carefully. He took the hint and didn't press. He knew that she had made the rune that caused the ship to come apart. That was between herself, Simon and Jace. If Jace wanted to keep that a secret, then maybe it would be best to do the same…

"Not just the Lightwoods' have been called to Idris." Luke said. "All the shadowhunters have."

Simon's eyes widened. "All of them? I dunno how many of them are, but's it gotta be a lot right?" he asked.

Luke nodded. "Shadowhunters from all over the world are being summoned for this."

"Just for a ship exploding?"

"No for Valentine." Luke replied. "His ship exploding has propelled the other shadowhunters into action, or well deciding what their next course of action would be."

"How long do you think that will take?" Clary asked.

"Who knows." Luke shrugged.

"So you don't know how long you'll be staying?" Simon asked Clary.

"Exactly." Clary nodded.

The conversation dwindled to more mundane topics and Luke eventually announced that he was going to make some coffee and offered Simon the couch for the night. As Luke wandered into the kitchen, Simon grabbed a skirt from Clary's haphazard pile of clothes and tossed it into her suitcase. Clary reached for the top that matched said skirt and Simon grabbed it for her and leaned forward and as she took it he whispered to her.

"So, you're not gonna tell Luke why you really wanna go to Idris?"

Clary shook her head. "He'd just worry."

"Ok, I'm just not sure that it's a good idea not to tell him, besides are you sure you can trust this Madeleine person?"

"Yes."

Simon appeared to be thinking. He nodded slowly. "Ok then."

He tossed her another blouse. She caught it and folded it.

"So you staying the night?"

"Yeah I wanna see you off."

"Kay."

SPNTMI

Jace stood over his bed, his bag halfway packed, but he didn't particularly care. He felt dulled, unable to move. Though honestly, there wasn't much to pack. He didn't quite realize how bare his room really was. Normally if that thought ever entered his mind, he quickly dismissed it as unimportant and it wasn't until he met Clary that he how others probably saw it. Not that he would have cared what others thought of it, but Clary was different. She was always…

A sharp rapping startled Jace out of his thoughts and there was another rapid fire knocking.

"Jace? May I come in?"

It was Maryse.

"Sure." He grunted.

She opened the door and Jace resumed packing. He spared her a glance. She looked far more tired than he remembered, but then again, Robert had been injured in the battle on the ship; another thing that was his fault. He scowled at his thoughts and Maryse sucked in a breath. He turned to look at her. She was watching his hands stuff his belongings into his bag with wide eyes. She opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to say she seemed to think better of, but began to speak anyway.

"Isabelle told me what happened."

Jace snorted. "Figures."

"I'm glad she did. I understand Alec's concern."

"Again, figures."

Maryse flinched. "Trust goes both ways Jace."

"Oh? Well I seemed to have forgotten that tiny fact." Jace continued. "I suppose I could have saved a lot of time if I just read a motivational poster, perhaps I should-"

"Jace stop being ridiculous." Maryse snapped.

Normally that tone would have shut Jace up, but once he began to speak it was hard to stop.

"What's ridiculous is that you don't blame me for Robert's injuries. On top of that, the Clave will be cracking down on you, and you'll surely be punished for the bad judgment of ever having taken me in, and oh that's right-not to mention that I said yes to Valentine-" Jace barked out. "So if you don't mind I think I'll just leave. The Clave will find me guilty, and I can always be a hunter, better than having my marks stripped."

Jace hefted his bag over his shoulder and turned to the door, only to have Maryse block his way. Her eyes burned bright and their resemblance to Alec's brought a sharp clarity to him. Without him realizing it, Maryse lifted her hand and slapped him full across the face. Jace stumbled back; he was barely able to keep a hold of his bag. He lifted a hand to his cheek, the sting preventing him from pressing it too hard. He stared up at Maryse in shock; she had never hit him before, but that wasn't what made him stare at her in astonishment.

Her eyes were wet with tears.

"Don't you dare say that." She hissed. "I do not blame you one bit for Robert-or Alec. Did you honestly think that I would choose the Clave over my son? I've already learned the hard way that family comes first, and if you dare walk out that door, I will just drag you back inside."

Jace stared back at her. "Don't you understand-I chose Valentine! Even if it was for a moment, I still chose him."

Maryse shut her eyes. When she opened them, her eyes were laden with sorrow. "Did you forget that I had chosen him as well? That I alongside so many others had once been in his circle that had caused so much destruction. You are not the first person he has seduced, nor will you be the last. We will simply have to carry on." She shrugged. "If you want to blame someone for running to him, blame me. I did nothing to stop the Inquisitor; I should have let you know that I did not share her opinion of you."

Jace swallowed hard. "Yeah that would have been nice."

Maryse inhaled sharply and replied. "Do you remember meeting us? Fresh from Idris and all you had was a single bag and your toy solider. That Alec and Isabelle were with me that day and when you and Alec decided to become parabatai? I knew, I knew from the moment that I saw you that I had another son and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Jace knew he wouldn't forget her expression as long as he lived. Her eyes were blazing, never mind the tears, it just made her fiercer. She looked exhausted, as if she were running on pure adrenaline alone. Her hair was hastily pulled back, a few strands out of their confines and stuck to her skin. Her fluttering breath at odds with her fighting stance, but she blazed like a torch no matter how exhausted or vulnerable she looked. This was a rare side of her and Jace actually wished he got to see more of it for some reason and he wanted to be around when she showed this part of herself again. She didn't show this to just anyone.

Jace exhaled shakily, the weight being lifted from him nearly made him tumble to the ground, but that could have just been from his bag as he let it drop to the floor. Maryse gave him a smile tight with too many emotions to name. Jace carefully sat down on his bed. The two were silent; Jace wasn't sure for how long, but when he finally spoke he said:

"You're right, trust is a two way street. With that in mind, could you do me a favor?"

SPNTMI

The alarm on Clary's phone blared in her ears, jolting her out of dreams of things with wings and she sat up rubbing her eyes. She felt another body next to her, the soft snores making her blink in sleepy envy. She nudged Simon awake. He stretched like a cat, limbs lightly bumping into her. Clary staggered to the kitchen to see Luke already there, pouring her a cup of coffee.

It didn't take long for the three to get ready. Clary was brimming over with energy, unable to sit still the whole ride over. Luke parked across from the institute, and Clary hurried out, Simon and Luke in tow. She recalled Maryse's instructions to go to the side where the garden was and meet Maryse and the rest of the lightwoods and Magnus would could create a portal and send them to Idris. She raced past the stone benches overgrown with vines, her duffle bag bumping into her thigh.

The garden was empty. A breeze swept the dead leaves, scattering them at her feet. Clary checked her watch. Right on time and her anxiety increased; Maryse had insisted she be there on time. Clary stared blindly at the scene, her cell phone clutched in her hand, her knuckles pale in their tight grip. It didn't stop her from looking up when she heard Luke and Simon approach. They stood on opposite sides, but she heard their voices from a great distance.

"I checked inside, but there wasn't anyone there." Luke said.

"Clary-" Simon said.

Clary sat down on the stone bench, yesterday repeating itself in her mind, until one thing stood out: Jace did not want her to go with him the look in his face when she asked him about the ship. They dark, shifted look that she now knew meant that he was lying. What else was Jace lying about? Clary cleared her throat and looked up at the two men.

"It's ok, it fine. I just want…." Clary rubbed her eyes. "Actually, Luke could you take me to the hospital. I wanna visit my mom."

Luke looked taken aback. "…Alright then."

She didn't let either of them touch her as they made their way back to the truck, every step on the concrete a slap of disappointment. Clary was silent the whole ride there, clutching her duffle bag and staring out the window. Luke parked and Clary jumped out. Luke and Simon began to get out as well until Clary stopped and turned to face them.

"Guys…please. I've got to do this by myself. I just need to be alone right now."

Clary didn't bother to look back as she strode inside the hospital and up to her mother's room, where she knew exactly who would be waiting for her. She was right. Madeleine was in Jocelyn's room; she had looked up at exactly the moment that Clary entered the room. They locked eyes and Madeleine slowly sat up. Clary began to speak.

"Take me to Idris."

SPNTMI

TBC….