Jace skimmed his tanned finger slowly back and forth across the back of Clary's pale hand, his mind miles away, drifting through memories. He saw them, laying in the grass, finding pictures in the cloud as the sun beat down on their skin, a moment of innocents. The moonlight on her face as her head lay on his chest in her bed, whispering of hopes and dreams to pass the sleepless nights. How he longed for those moments now, treasured them. He swore he would have them again, make new memories with her, a lifetimes worth.
He had lost sense of time, leaving Clary's bedside only to go to the bathroom. He had heard Magnus leave, he did not know how long ago, and expected someone to appear shortly. He could feel his muscles tightening painfully and his joints seizing from the lack of movement. Then there was a loud bang, metal on wood, from the floor below. Jace straightened immediately, rigid and ready to defend Clary.
Jocelyn bashed violently against the door of the Lightwood mansion. Adrenaline pumped hard and fast through her, labouring her breath and quickening her heart. He legs burned from running, tears stung in her eyes. Her head throbbed while she waited for someone to answer the door. She raised her hand to bang the door again when it suddenly opened.
Maryse jumped when someone banged against their front door. She looked to her husband who held a finger to his lips and slowly rose, heading to the door. He approached it quietly and looked through the peep hole. He exhaled loudly and slumped, confusing Maryse. Carefully he opened the door, only to be thrown back by whomever it was charging through. Jocelyn Fairchild stormed into the lounge, fists clenched and a snarl on her mouth.
"Where is my daughter?" she barked demandingly.
Maryse remained silent, shocked. Isabelle looked to the staircase and Jocelyn caught it. She immediately stormed to the stairs and thundered up them. At the end of the hall a door was ajar, a small beam of light coming from the crack. She rushed to it and threw the door open. Almost impaling herself on a seraph blade.
Jace heard pounding of feet on the staircase and rose, removing his seraph blade from the bedside table and murmuring to it quickly, unsheathing it. He stood in front of the door, ready to strike whatever came through. The footsteps got closer and he drew the illuminated blade, waiting. He saw the flash of red and had but a moment to stop himself from beheading Clary's mother. The blade stopped a hairs length from her neck. One more step and she would have surely been dead.
Jocelyn panted heavily, looking from Jace to the blade, until he slowly lowered it. That's when she saw her. The pale, still, cold form of her daughter over the boys shoulders. Her world spun and her knees began to give. She staggered to the bed and grasped the end of the frame to support herself. This wasn't true, it couldn't be. Her daughter was a fighter, an angel. She rounded the bed and on a sudden impulse, grabbed Clary by the shoulders.
"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" she all but begged her daughter, who rattled lifelessly under her hands.
Jace was upon her instantly, restraining her and pinning her arms behind her. She fought against his hold, wailing at her motionless child. Jace heard footsteps on the staircase again and soon Maryse was in the room, taking Jocelyn from Jace and escorting her out. She fought uselessly, tying to turn back into the room until Jace shut the door. He walked back over to Clary who was now in slight disarray. He quietly straightened her up, placing her arms back at her sides and brushing the hair from her face. He looked to the wooden chair he had occupied for what seemed like years and made a decision. Carefully he slid in behind his love's form and rested her gently on his chest, over his slow beating heart. Then he closed his eyes.
"Let me go! What did you do to her?" Jocelyn ranted as Maryse took her back downstairs.
"We didn't do anything Jocelyn. Once you calm down we will explain," Maryse said patiently to the fellow distraught mother.
Centring herself, Jocelyn relaxed. Maryse waited a few moments to be sure then released her grip on her arms. Without a word the two women walked into the lounge room. Jocelyn took a seat on the empty sofa across from Maryse, who sat back down with Robert and Isabelle.
"Tell me what happened," Jocelyn said in a tight voice.
Maryse sighed then began, "It started this morning..."
By the time Maryse had finished the other woman was visibly shaking.
In a clipped tone she asked, "Why was I not contacted?"
"There was simply no time. We had to make a decision immediately to save Clary. We intended to contact you as soon as Jace returned and Magnus left," Maryse explain.
"And why didn't you?"
"We have not had the chance, Magnus left not long ago and we were all still in a state of shock."
Jocelyn rose from her seat, "I have to go and find Luke," she murmured monotonously then walked to the door. She simply opened it and walked out.
The Lightwoods sat there in shock, mouth slightly agape. She had left. They could not understand it, what mother leaves their child just like that? Was it because of guilt or shame at her actions? Or did she really not care enough to stay? She had seemed so passionate when she had arrived but she left seeming as if she were the walking dead. It was baffling.
Frowning, Robert got up from the sofa, "I'm going to fix Jace a plate," he stated then wandered off to the kitchen, shaking his head as he went.
He remained puzzled as he prepared a sandwich for Jace and retrieved an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. He filed a cup with water and grabbed the elixir Magnus left behind, placed it all on a tray and headed to Jace's room. He moved quietly up the stairs, down the hall and into the room, illuminated only by the small lamp in the far corner of the room.
Jace heard his father's breath catch. He knew it was Robert, he could smell his cologne and aftershave.
"I'm wake," Jace muttered. He heard Robert exhale in relief.
Slowly he opened his eyes and looked to the door. Robert walked further in and placed the tray down on the small bedside table. He sat down on the chair Jace had previously occupied. His father reached the small blue bottle that sat on the tray and held it out to his son.
"Please," he said.
Understanding, Jace took a small swig from the bottle before re-corking it and placed it down on the table. He then grabbed the water and drained it in two large gulps before moving onto the apple. During this time he kept one arm secured locked around Clary who still rested against his chest.
"Where is Jocelyn?" he asked after swallowing a large chunk of the apple.
"She left," Robert said cautiously.
"She left?" Jace repeated. His father nodded sadly.
Jace sighed and kissed the top of Clary's head, tunnelling his nose into the fiery curls.
She still had him.
And always would.
Until the day he died.