Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all the rights to The Mortal Instruments and it's characters. I am merely a fan that has an overactive imagination.
"Simon!" Clary shouted as a ball of paper hit her head. "What are you doing?" She sat at her desk in her room, and swiveled her chair to face her best friend who was sitting on her bed, flipping through some old magazines.
"You've been staring at that computer for the last 2 hours!" Simon exclaimed. "What have you been doing?" he asked as he put one of the magazines down. Clary looked at the blank search engine page and sighed. It almost physically pained her to keep such big secret from her best friend, but after her meeting with Hodge, she promised that she would keep the Shadowhunter search a secret. Hodge didn't have to persuade her too much to get her to agree. Clary knew that if she told anyone about this, word might get around, which could potentially run the risk of destroying all of the previous work done, or someone else taking credit. And the blame would come back to her. She trusted Simon, but she knew that he could get carried away at times, and didn't want to run the risk of him saying something in front of his band mates. Clary also knew that if she told anyone, although she is truly interested in the subject, she knew other people might look at her like she was crazy. But most of all, deep down inside, she felt that secret needed to be kept between her and Hodge for now, and she didn't want to betray her gut.
She looked at her friend with a sympathetic look, and smiled. "Just looking at jobs outside of Seattle. You never know what else is out there." She moved her cursor and clicked on an icon, and her display darkened to black. Wisps of gold danced along the screen, then changing to blue and red.
Clary hopped up from her chair and joined her best friend on her bed, their backs leaning against the headrest, Simon's legs stretched out in front of him. "Maybe I can find a job somewhere, and it'll take me to some other place, and I can finally get out of this city." Clary's voice grew distant as she stared off into space. Simon knew staying in Seattle after her mother and father died was tough for her. He recalled meeting Clary in the beginning of high school, a shy girl lost in her thoughts and artwork. She told him her story of her parents – a car accident on the way home from the park, miraculously, she being the only survivor. She was then thrust in the care of her Uncle Luke, but Simon knew that missing both parents in her life forced Clary to be independent and take things head on. It was her way of dealing with her bottled emotions. She would immerse herself in her studies, or her artwork, or any other assignment that was given to her, and the fruits of her labour showed, as she became top of her class in almost every subject. Now that her post-secondary studies were winding down, he knew that the chances of her leaving were becoming higher.
On Clary's side of things, she never questioned the death of her parents. She never questioned anything, really. Whatever would come at her way, good or bad, she would merely deal with whatever was in front of her. She would find herself thinking about her parents, but rarely talked about it with Luke, and always thought that her orphan past was the reason she needed to move on from Seattle. But as her college career was slowly coming to an end, she was starting to realize that it wasn't just that. She found herself itching for something more.
"Alright Clary, if you say so," Simon said, and pushed his glasses higher up on his nose. "But I'm telling you, Seattle is basically the greenest place in the USA. And we actually have fresh air over here." He nudged her, and continued. "Plus the mac and cheese at Beecher's is amazing." He laughed at his half jokes, but he was always trying to find a way to keep Clary in the city and more importantly, in his life.
"But the weather here is terrible!" Clary said over dramatically. "I've only known two seasons: rain, and less rain." They both laughed, and she lifted her leg and placed it on top of Simon's, a gesture she's done many times in the past in their friendship, and leaned her head on his shoulder.
"You could always work in Luke's bookstore. I'm sure he could sell your paintings. And you'd do great here." Simon said quietly, hoping that these repeated reasons would stick in her head and heart eventually, and she would stop considering moving away. Although Clary was fiercely independent, Simon depended on her more than he cared to admit. Clary lifted her head and he saw she had a sad smile on her face.
"Oh Simon, not again," she said in a halfhearted manner. "First of all, my paintings are not good enough to sell, they're just a hobby of mine. And plus, I always felt like I didn't belong in Seattle. Maybe there's something bigger out there for me. Maybe I'm supposed to discovery a hidden mystery." She placed her hand over his, silently trying to convey what she's been hiding from him for the last week. She switched the subject quickly. "You could always travel with me? Get out of this city; see the rest of the world?" She gestured, sweeping her arm in front of her.
Simon looked at her and shook his head. "I know, I know," Clary said, dropping her arm down. "I know your mom and sister need you more than I do." She leaned her head back on Simon's shoulder and fell back into a comfortable silence. Then, a knock on the door interrupted their reverie.
"Come in, Uncle Luke!" Clary shouted, hopping out of bed and making her way towards the door.
"Dinner is ready, guys," Luke said, swinging the door open. He was a tall, burly man, with a full beard on his face and twinkling eyes. His sleeves were rolled up, which was a telltale sign that he either made dinner from scratch or he was unloading some boxes in the bookstore downstairs. Clary and Simon silently prayed it was the latter. As if reading their minds, Luke quickly added, "I ordered pizza. Don't worry. They're in the shop though. I still have a couple of more boxes to unpack to add to the inventory, which you guys can help me with," he said with a smile.
"Always a catch, eh?" Clary said, returning the smile.
"You gotta earn your keep here, kiddo," Luke joked.
They made their way out of her room, down the hall, and bounded down the steps that lead to the backdoor of Luke's bookstore. Their living quarters was by no means extravagant, but it was enough for the both of them. Living above the bookstore made it easy for Luke to take of Clary while growing up, and allowed Clary to indulge in every book imaginable.
Luke unlocked the door that separated their living quarters and the bookstore, and the trio found themselves in the backroom. The room was filled with metal shelves, which held old pieces of small appliances, empty boxes, and books that collected dust over the years. They sidestepped over a few fallen books, and wove through the shelves with ease. Clary, the last of the three, slowed her pace and let her eyes wander through the old items. She ran her fingers along the spines of some books that were sitting on one of the shelves and wondered why Luke never sold them or shipped them away.
She stopped abruptly, when she felt raised markings on one of the books. Braille? She couldn't remember Luke selling books in Braille before. She picked up the green book, surprised at how light it was, despite its thickness. But as soon as she inspected the book, there were no traces of the raised symbols to be seen. She ran her fingers down the spine again, trying to find the letters. She could have sworn it was there just a second ago, wasn't it? Her thoughts were interrupted as she felt a tiny pulse near her temples, and she knew a headache was imminent if she didn't eat something soon.
"Well, are you coming?" Simon asked impatiently, as he was about to enter the main shop.
"Yeah, sorry," Clary replied. She lifted her fingers off the book and rubbed her pointer finger and thumb together, as if trying to retain the feeling of the markings. She made a mental note to come back for the book, and placed it in its original spot. Clary hurried her steps and entered the main shop, locking the knob behind her into place and shutting the door.
As she entered the bookstore, a familiar feeling of comfort washed over her. The bookstore was sanctuary-like for her. Her restless nights were always spent here, nestled in between shelves, books piling high around her. They crossed two rooms, and she smiled faintly at her favourite spot; a small space where the non-fiction section ended and the fiction started. As they neared the entrance of the bookstore, her stomach grumbled at the sight of the 3 steaming pizza boxes by the cash register. They quickly grabbed a stool each and dug into the cheesy delight.
"So what were you guys up to? You guys were cooped up there for a while. Are you still studying for something, Clary?" Luke asked, biting into his slice.
"Nah," Simon asked, in between mouthfuls of pepperoni and cheese. "Clary is just trying to find a way out of this amazing city."
"You know, you could always stay here. Help me run the bookstore?" Luke asked, as he reached for some napkins. Clary rolled her eyes at Simon and swallowed a bite.
"Have you two been conspiring while I'm at school?"
"Not even close!" Luke winked at Simon. The casual conversation shifted from school, to graduating, to the new shipment of books, and before they knew it, they all finished off two full pizzas, mostly with Simon's help. Their jokes and laughter filled the air, and Clary all of a sudden couldn't help feel that maybe telling Luke and Simon about this project wouldn't hurt. They were there for her since she was orphaned, and she knew that if anyone would be supportive, it would be those two, regardless of how crazy this Shadowhunter thing sounded. But as soon she tried to open her mouth to say something, a pressure in the left side of her head blind-sided her.
"Ah!" Clary exclaimed, dropping her pizza on the floor. She shut her eyes and pressed her palms on either side of her head. The pain was almost too overwhelming for her to bear. Luke and Simon stood up immediately and circled her protectively.
"Clary, did you take your pills earlier?" Luke asked. But Clary couldn't answer, and she struggled to hold back tears. She bit her lip and whimpered slightly.
"No I don't think she did. She was staring at that laptop for a long time. I think she forgot," Simon said worriedly.
"Under the cash register, I think there's a bottle there." Luke nodded, and Simon dashed quickly, searching for the bottle. "Don't worry, Clary. Everything will be alright," Luke said soothingly, rubbing Clary's back, while she kept her eyes closed and her hands to the side of her head.
"Got em!" Simon exclaimed. Luke exhaled a breath he didn't even know he was holding. Simon shook out two pills and gave them to Luke. In an instant, Luke tipped Clary's head up and pressed a water bottle to her lips. She leaned against Luke, her eyes still shut.
"I'm okay," she said softly. "I think I'm okay."
"No, clearly you are not," Luke said in a concerned tone. He turned to face Simon. "I'm going to help her upstairs and put her in bed."
Simon pressed his lips into a thin line. Clary was always able to handle her migraines before, but this one seemed to be the worst so far. "Sure thing, Luke. I'll clean up here and help you out with those shipments of books."
"Thanks, kid," Luke said, a small smile on his lips. He pulled Clary up and wrapped one arm around her waist, allowing her small frame to lean against him.
"Sorry, Simon," Clary said, her eyes still closed. She reached out her hand and found Simon's almost instantly. "Call you." She dropped her hand, and both figures retreated to the back room, leaving Simon alone.
"Thanks Simon, I think that's the last little bit," Luke said as they unfolded the last box. After Luke put Clary to bed, he came back downstairs to unload a shipment of books.
"I thought you didn't really like selling big blockbuster books, Luke?" Simon asked, eyeing one of the hard covers. "Isn't this some young adult fiction stuff that all the teenager girls are going crazy over?" He picked up the book and examined the black and red glossy cover.
Luke chuckled. "Yeah, I know. But kids these days don't really read as much. I have to keep this bookstore going, and the only way is to sell people what they want. And hopefully they realize there are books with real stories that can be just an interesting." Luke plucked the book out of Simon's hands and placed it back on the table with the rest of the copies. "Thanks for the help, Simon. You should get home, it's starting to get dark."
"I was hoping to check up on Clary before I left," Simon said.
Luke smiled at the boy. "Nah, she's okay. If she's sleeping, you don't want to wake her." Luke put his hand on Simon's shoulder and started to usher him out of the shop. "I'll let her know you said goodbye though."
"You sure? It's not that late, maybe I could just see if she –"
"Hey, do you want the rest of the pizza?" Luke asked, motioning to the counter. I think there's almost a whole pizza left in there." Luke knew the boy meant well, but his parental instincts kicked in and knew that Clary needed her rest.
"Oh sure!" Simon said enthusiastically. Pizza, hot or cold, will distract any teenage boy. "Thanks Luke," Simon said, grabbing the lukewarm box and making his way out the door.
"No worries, kiddo. Get home safe!" Luke called out as Simon walked down the street. As soon as Simon was out of sight, Luke locked the front doors and pulled down the blinds. He sighed to himself and went to the backroom. After shutting off all the lights, he locked the door behind him, and made his way quietly upstairs into Clary's bedroom. She was asleep, curled up underneath her dark blue blankets, her red hair splayed across the pillow. Luke crossed the room, looked at her closely; his eyebrows furrowed with worry, but relaxed as soon as she saw how peaceful she looked. He had no idea what those pills were made of, but he was damn grateful it helped her. He stood there for a moment, reflecting upon the time when Clary was literally dropped off at his door and was thrust into the world of parenthood. He wasn't ready for it, and he wasn't sure if he was going to be good at it, but looking at her, he knew that he did something right along the way. He pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to avoid thinking about Clary's parents not being able to see her grow up.
He remembered that night. It was a dark winter and he was closing up shop, when suddenly, the phone rang. It was the hospital, and he was summoned immediately. Before he knew it, he was identifying Jocelyn Fray in the morgue, listening to the police talk about how the driver's body was too heavily mutilated in the crash, but dental records were able to confirm that Valentine, Clary's father, was in the car crash. And Luke, he was listed as next of kin. By a stroke of luck, or maybe there was an angel involved, Clary only suffered a concussion, a broken arm and a few scraps and bruises. She was only 9 years old at that time, and had to adjust living with a family member she hardly knew, in an apartment that could barely fit Luke himself. But he remembered fondly, how he would find Clary in the bookstore, tucked away in a fort made out of blankets, surrounded by books and drawings. She only cried once, during her first night at Luke's apartment, but after that, she seemed to adjust quickly. Even during her young age, she was active, outgoing and was always ready to take on new things. Luke never questioned how things were going. After all, who was he to question a good thing? That is, until the headaches started.
He vividly recalled that afternoon, when he picked up Clary from school and found her huddled in the corner of the art class, clutching her head, with gold paint all over her hands and her hair. He rushed her to the doctors, and was referred to a Natural Practitioner who gave him a bottle of aspirin, a box of tea and strict diet and sleeping orders. Clary simply nodded, didn't ask any questions, took the pills and slept in the car. Since then, the headaches became more manageable. Luke always wondered how Clary was never curious about why things were happening to her. She seemed to take everything in stride, and still manage to keep up good grades and a healthy relationship with her friends – well, her one friend. Luke ran his hand through his hair and thought of Simon fondly, and how he knew he was part of the reason why Clary was always so positive. A box of pizza was definitely not enough to thank him for the things he's done for Clary. Luke sighed, and wrapped the blanket around Clary tighter, silently praying that her headache had disappeared completely. He knew that he couldn't keep her protected forever, but damn it to hell if he wasn't going to try.
Don't worry! The next chapter, our favourite trio will make their appearance. For the sake of character development and back story, I needed to dedicate a chapter to Clary's past and present. Thanks for reading! Until next time!
~thatdragonlady6o4