WHA! I would've had this done sooner, but I got soooooooo caught up in reading City of Fallen Angels! Between that and *finally* finding a copy of The Sociopath Next Door, I've had a difficult time trying to pry myself away from my books. Plus, I ended up getting a copy of the DSM IV, so I've been reading every single mental disorder out there...even if the DSM V is due out next year and stuff will be changed. Heh heh.

And Noverael Parabati, I have to agree with you! To be honest, I always saw their relationship kinda bein' a smack in the face. I mean! I LOVE Magnus, but their relationship is just...I dunno. And I love rants, by the way. :D

And to Shining-Sea, I call it an AU. Heh heh. Sadly, I've always worked with dark stories - my fanfictions are no exceptions. Even my books are incredibly dark. But most of my books are dark and sadistic because they deal with real-life scenarios that can actually happen (i.e.: rape, torture, kidnapping, mental disorders, etc.) - generally in the homo-erotic genre. xD I understand the libraries not carrying much - our's doesn't. But then, I just buy all of my books...and it's filled with stuffs. Mainly psychology texts and whatnot, but still (that and Harry Potter). Heh heh. Plus, I don't hate Jace. On the contrary! He's one of my all-time favourite characters! But, there's something about seeing broken perfection that I like working with. Ah...I'm weird, I know.

Uchihacest Girl, I'm trying to finish this up, don't worry. Unlike many of my fics, this one I wanna finish - if not for your all's sake, but for my own. My darker fics rarely contain an ending...at least one that fans read. Like...I'll have the last chapter written on my computer, but never write the stuff leading up to it. THIS ONE WILL NOT GO DOWN THAT PATH! Seriously...

NOW! Enjoy after the disclaimer!

Disclaimer: Oh, dear! People would HATE me if I owned M.I! Heh. Mission Impossible humour.

6

Submission

The right wing wound itself around Jace, covering him and shielding him from Jonathan's view as the stub of what was left from the left wing twitched, dripping blood onto the concrete. It moved feebly, sending shock after shock through Jace's shoulders and spine. His face flooded with pain as he clutched onto the feathers of the wing, trying to avoid staring at the floor where hundreds of bloody, fallen feathers laid. He pressed his forehead against the wing, a wave of nausea running through him when he kept realizing that all of the blood in the room had come from him. His head was spinning and he continued to inhale deeply, trying to calm his fast-paced heart.

The wing suddenly jerked itself away, shifting and folding back behind him as Jonathan stepped to the edge of the pentacle again. He felt the wing quiver, obviously feeling terror from the other body. No longer having the wing blocking his view, his stomach turned twice-over seeing the shreds of his left wing scattered over the room; the tip of the wing was closest to the wall opposite of him, splattered with blood as feathers lay around it. Other pieces of the wing littered the ground, leaking pools of blood that coated the cement. Acid found its way to his throat and he could no longer control his muscles.

His arm wrapped around his stomach as his other arm supported him from falling onto the floor as his muscles contracted and he spit bile onto the floor. The action caused his stomach to sear with pain as the muscles pushed against his wounded abdomen. Never before had he been so disgusted that it caused him to literally vomit; but then, never before had he witnessed his own body parts being destroyed like mere objects; and never before had he been so tortured and helpless.

Helpless.

That word echoed in his head and a sharp jab pierced his chest.

That was it.

He had never been completely helpless before. So many times he had thought he had gone searching for Death, but never truly – he always had people with him; supporting him; helping him.

But now?

Not now.

Now he was on his own; for the very first time, there was no one that even cared. Not even….

Alec.

It took him a moment to realize, but, at the thought of Alec, and seeing him in his memory, Jace had tears falling from his eyes to the floor, mixing into the bile.

Jonathan crossed the threshold and placed the tip of his shoe underneath Jace's chin, lifting his head up from facing the floor. The same sadistic smirk was twisted onto his face, his eyes sending Jace's heart into overdrive.

"What makes you cry, Jace?" he asked with faked sincerity. He shifted and put his foot on Jace's chest, pushing him and making him sit back on his knees, his arms hanging loosely by his side. He bent down to a crouch, setting his elbows on his knees as he peered into Jace's face. The way Jonathan was able to switch his demeanor from sadistic and uncaring to strange concern had Jace feeling uneasy, his throat tightening into a hard knot as he failed to avoid eye contact. "I'd say 'tears aren't suited to your face', but"—he outstretched he hand to touch Jace's cheek, stroking it with an odd softness with his thumb—"I'd be lying. Nothing's more beautiful than a broken angel."

"Bite off."

Jace instantly regretted his sudden bout of courage when his response was a hand across his face, having him nearly fall backwards with a fresh, bright red handprint on the side of his face under his eye. He clenched his jaw, avoiding looking at his captor, even if that meant staring at the butchered remains of his wing littering the ground.

"I don't know why you're fighting me; no one else gives a bloody hell what happens to you."

Once again, the runes began to emit a soft red light and Jace heard voices echoing around him. He clamped his eyes shut, trying to shut them out as images filled his mind. Again, he saw everyone pass by him without looking back, watching their backs fade away into the blackness surrounding him. He then saw himself and Clary in a heated argument: Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides as she yelled at him for being cold and uncaring; his response that she was right; her bringing up her hand and slapping him across the face. She called him an obscenity and stormed off. He recalled that – it had happened a month before she had left.

Seeing the memory playing out like a film, his chest tightened.

He found himself sitting on his knees with his broken and bleeding body and wings, alone in the darkness, his eyes red and puffy as dried saltwater stained his cheeks. He heard footsteps echo behind him. He turned his head to see Alec walk passed; when his ally did not even look down at him, he reached his hand out to grab onto Alec's shirt, but the moment his hand came in contact with the other, the apparition jerked away and twisted around to stare at Jace – a look of shear disgust twisted on his face. Jace's eyebrows furrowed upwards as the image spat: "Don't touch me!"

"Alec…," he drew out softly, his eyes glazing over.

"You're pathetic, Jace. No one cares about you," he spoke, taking another step further away from the broken angel. "Not Clary, and certainly not me. Why don't you just stop your worthless excuse for a life? Here you are, an angel, and you still can't do a damn thing worthwhile." He scoffed as he turned away from the tearful Shadowhunter, fading into the surrounding blackness, the echo of his footsteps disappearing.

"You're alone, Jace," Jonathan's voice echoed around him, mixing in with the other voices – the indistinguishable voices.

Jace laid down, his body curling into the fetal position as the still-whole-wing wrapped around him, covering him in soft whiteness, feeling his pain and trying to give him comfort; but it did nothing to ease the pain – and not just the physical aspect. His mind and body both broken….

The darkness that was surrounding him faded, dragging him back to the blood-drenched room and sending him back to Jonathan's view. The wing laid itself down, covering him as though it were a blanket, but his body had started to become numb, and he was unable to feel the softness of the feathers pressed against his bare flesh. His body wracked with fatigue, his will to keep up a fight faded and he found himself begging in his mind, begging for the pain to stop. Finally, his throat spoke what his mind was contemplating.

"Please," Jace's said quietly, his body shaking. The stub of his wing twitched and Jonathan brought his eyes down, staring intently at the broken angel, wondering as though he heard wrong. "Please," Jace reiterated. "No more," he whispered, tears falling from his eyes, dropping onto the floor, knowing what he was about to do. Jonathan only watched him – watched as Jace's broken body continued to quiver, despite his eyes staring blankly in front of him. "Let me die. Please, Jonathan. Just let me die."

Jonathan's face softened somewhat and he approached Jace, crouching down next to him. He put his hand under Jace's chin and lifted his head off of the cement, staring into the Shadowhunter's nearly-dead eyes. "Whatever you say, my angel. Whatever you say."

-o-o-o-o-

Alec frowned as they approached a weather-beaten, rundown house outside of Queens. The house was dark, most of the windows were broken and even part of the roof had caved in; however long ago, he did not care to know. No glamour hid the house: It was just as they saw it, the moonlight bathing it in silver light, casting dark shadows on the ground. The ravener demon was scurrying up and around the front of the house, sniffing anything and everything around it before it slipped into one of the busted out windows. Magnus set his hand on the post to the metal, chain-linked fence that surrounded the yard; the front gate sat wide open, rust eating away at it, created large holes in its security.

The wind blew violently, forcing thick branches of the tree in the yard to bend under its weight and tearing still-green leaves from it.

"Here?" Alec asked rhetorically as they crossed the threshold into the yard, stepping and walking towards the boarded up front door.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Magnus responded as he walked to the broken window the demon had slipped in through. Covering up his hand with the sleeve of his dark purple trench coat, he grabbed the jagged piece of glass jutting upwards from the pane and pushed it in, causing it crack and break off to allow a smoother entry. He knocked the other pieces in, as well, clearing the window of all glass so they would not cut themselves on the way in. "C'mon, Alec. You first."

Alec gave him a flat look as he walked up to him. "And what if there's something in there waiting to ambush us?"

"There is. You first." Magnus sent him a devious smile as Alec rolled his eyes.

He grabbed the edges of the windowsill and jumped up, pulling himself up and into the window. There was an old, dust-covered couch below the window to catch him as he landed on it on his shoulder; a puff of dust emitted from him when his body fell onto it and he found himself coughing from the inhale. He rolled off of it onto his feet as Magnus entered right behind him in a similar fashion, albeit not coughing. However, Magnus failed to land gracefully onto his feet and, instead, wound up sitting on the floor. He suddenly looked confused as he leaned to the side, reaching his hand behind him.

"I think I fell on a cat…," he trailed off, grabbing whatever it was that was half-under him and half-under the couch. He pulled it out and held it out in front of him. "Well, I was close. Hey, Alec, you want a raccoon?"

"What?" he asked, somewhat annoyed at his partner's careless demeanor. But, then, maybe he – Alec – was being fretful over nothing. He turned to look at what Magnus was holding and stepped back. "Okay," he trailed out before continuing with: "That's just gross." The left side of his lip curled upwards at the dead, nearly-mummified raccoon that Magnus held upside down by the tail.

Magnus stared at the dead creature. "Well, look at it this way: We just found dinner for a homeless person."

Alec knitted his eyebrows together, somehow still managing to raise the corner of his left brow. "Please put down the dead rodent."

"Actually, raccoons aren't rodents; they're part of the Procyonidae fami—"

"I – I don't care," Alec said, purposely stuttering.

Magnus sighed and brought it down, tossing it away from him and taking to his feet, dusting himself off; both dust and glitter fell to the floor and he brought his attention to Alec who was looking around the room.

The inside belonged with the outside, with broken items and dust-covered upholstery in, what appeared to be, the living room. Cobwebs covered lamps and old picture frames that were set out on side tables. They heard glass crash in what they figured was the kitchen and were quickly after it, only to see the ravener demon sniffing vigorously by a shut door before it crashed through it, the taste of the blood the only thing on its mind.

"If that really was Jace's blood, then he's here," Magnus said, though it sounded more like he was talking to himself. Either way, it garnered a comment from Alec.

"Here?" as though it was more to say: How could Jace be in a dump like this?

"I guess we're about to find out."

They followed the demon through the door, ending up in a sub-leveled basement with the creature sniffing around a section of the floor. It tried to tear through it, but even it was unable to get through. Seeing that it had done what it was summoned for, Magnus flicked his hand, sending what looked like a white stream of light at the creature and piercing through it. It screeched as it began to die, emitting scream-like noises as it began to shrivel. When nothing was left, Magnus approached the area of the floor it had been circling to see a very out-of-place handle. With Alec now next to him, they both had to grab and pull the handle, pulling a large, concrete slate across the floor to reveal a set of concrete stairs, leading under the house. Magnus raised a brow and, when he turned to look at his partner, Alec had already moved to begin the descent. He followed after him, walking next to him down the long stairwell.

As it became darker and darker, Alec found himself fumbling in his pockets for his witchlight to illuminate the path. With the path now lit, they could faintly see a door at the bottom, a very low light emitting from beneath it. Alec picked his pace up, nearly running down the stairs, careful not to miss a step and go head-over-heels. When they reached the landing at the bottom, Magnus set his hand on Alec's shoulder, maneuvering to be in front of him; from instinct, Alec's hand traced down to the hilt of his seraph blade, gripping it tightly and monitoring to keep his breaths even as Magnus gripped the metal handle of the door and pushed down.

He had to actually push the door open, it weighing more than he thought; it screeched its way across the cement flooring. With a final push, it was opened completely and they were introduced to the heavy scent of blood flooding the air. Alec could not help but cover his nose with the back of his hand, the blade reflecting off dim light – the witchlight had gone back to its resting place in his pocket. He stepped around Magnus to gain entrance to the room, his eyes widening at the sight.

Unknown runes were scribbled all over the room, blood smeared over and around them. Bloodstained feathers covered the floor, and he and Magnus found themselves unable to keep from stepping on them. Alec found his stomach turning when his eyes traced the pieces of full wings on the floor, blood thick around them and still leaking from their ends. Perhaps it was because they were still in awe of the scene around them, but it took Alec a moment to notice the left end of the room – the left end where a large white wing lay over a human figure. He took a step towards it, shoes crunching over feathers and blood as he left the side of Magnus, whose attention had been drawn to the table at the right side of the room. Only after he noticed that his side had been abandoned did his eyes trace to where Alec was walking. With eyebrows furrowed, Alec stared at it, unable to comprehend what it was exactly he was staring at. Before he was able to take another step closer to it, Magnus was next to him and grabbed his arm, holding him back. He turned to look at him.

"Magnus, wha—"

The warlock motioned to the floor; the runes scribbled around the figure in the shape of an upside down pentacle. Eyes darting around, their attention jerked when they noticed that the large wing quivered. Ignoring the script, Alec jerked his arm free and crossed the threshold, stopping and kneeling down next to the splotched wing. Setting his blade next to him, he reached out his hand; the moment his fingers came into contact with the wing, it jerked, making him pull his hand back from reflex. He reached out again; but, this time when the wing jerked, he lightly grabbed it at the bone, trying to gently move it out of the way. Sensing no threat, the wing slowly pulled back and folded itself behind the crumpled figure it was attached to.

Alec took in a sharp breath, his eyebrows shooting up under his hair as his eyes flew wide and a sharp pain jabbed at his chest. With a shaking hand, he reached down to touch the face of the body, as though to see whether or not what he was seeing was real. When his fingers made soft contact with Jace's cheek, he felt his stomach and chest tighten as his eyes started to sting.

"Ja…ce?" he drew out, his breath catching in his throat.

His eyes trailed down, passing the blood around his ally's mouth and stopping at his chest where his own seraph blade had been used cruelly against him and run to the hilt into his chest. When he saw the blade lightly quiver, the runes surrounding him began to glow a very dull red and he heard Magnus behind him.

"Quick, get him out of the pentacle!" He crossed the threshold as well to help move Jace from the diagram; however, the moment he crossed, he felt a something pull him forward before throwing him backwards against the wall. "Ow…that was uncalled for!" he yelled out, leaning forward and holding his back when he tried to stand. Yet, his voice sounded distant to the Shadowhunter still within the diagram.

He shifted Jace to where he held him with both of his arms looped under and around Jace's shoulder. He stepped backwards, half-carrying and half-pulling Jace out of the inner Points; however, when Jace's body crossed the inner Five-Point threshold, the full wing and wing stub began to shake violently, as though they would be screaming for an unknown pain to stop. Echoes began sounding around the room and, what felt like a large weight suddenly began pushing down on him, trying to pull him to the ground and Jace away from him – to keep them within. With his arms under Jace's upper arms giving him leverage, Alec took a forceful step backwards, the weight feeling as though it was beginning to crack his shoulders. When he felt something grab his ankle, he released a shout, clamped his eyes shut and began jerking his foot, trying to get loose; but another invisible force grabbed his other leg, not allowing him to move. When he opened his eyes, the room had pulled away and, instead, he was introduced to a sea of pale, blue-veined demons below him, grabbing at his legs, arms and chest, trying to get him to fall. He latched onto Jace when other demons were swarming over him, as well. Arms wrapped around his abdomen as they continued to try and pull him loose of Alec's grip.

"Let him go!" he shouted, tightening his hold and pulling him closer to him. The blade in his chest shook violently and blood began pouring from the wound. "No! Jace!" He clenched his eyes shut again, hoping that, when he would open his eyes, the scene would be gone and prove to be a façade. Instead, when he opened his eyes, a large, winged demon was in front of him, seemingly from nowhere. His eyes flew wide. The demon cocked its head, staring at Alec – inspecting him. When it exhaled, the demons below pulled Alec roughly, finally forcing him away from Jace. The demons held onto him as he began fighting, trying to pull free; but the more he fought, the tighter they held him. He stopped suddenly and watched as the creatures that had grabbed a hold of Jace began releasing their grip and holding him up above the lot of them. The large, winged demon grabbed Jace in one hand, pulling him away like he was a mere ragdoll: Jace's body only fell limp. The one whole wing stretched out, as though it was trying free Jace and get away – trying to do the one thing its owner was incapable of.

"NO!" Alec screamed, pulling and twisting violently against those that held him. "Let him go! LET HIM GO!" The creature only pulled back, holding Jace's limp body at its side. Alec thrashed, jerking every part of his body; but it was futile. Water streamed down his face as he could only watch the demon retreat with his comrade in hand. "You can't have him!" That was when the demon stopped. It pulled its attention back to the small human below it, still fighting. "Give him back! He's not yours!" The demon cocked its head, as though it were intrigued by Alec's futile attempts to free himself. Though Alec himself was unaware, he had tears down his cheeks. "Don't take him away from me!" he shouted, voice breaking as his jerks and pulls became less pronounced. He stopped when he noticed that the demon was staring at him and his chest fell as he fell against the hands holding him. "Please…don't take him away from me, too…."

With a large exhale, the creature came down, staring at Alec, peering into his face. The scent of rotting flesh filled the Shadowhunter's nostrils and it took all of his self-restraint not to gag. It studied him for a moment before pulling its attention to Jace. Seeming content, it pulled back, taking Jace with it. Alec tensed and he pulled again.

"PLEASE!"

But the creature did not seem intent on taking Jace – at least not just yet. It held him up and leaned over him, breathing into his face. Just as it had done earlier, it opened its mouth, producing its multiple tongues; each a different colour. However, this time it its red tongue extended out. Alec could only watch as the red tongue felt its way around Jace's face – down from the teen's eyebrow to his nose to his cheek and, then, to his mouth. Now hovering over the teen's slightly-agape mouth, the tongue itself suddenly opened – the tongue had a second mouth. Then something fell from the tip of tongue into Jace's mouth. It took Alec a moment to realize what it was, but, when a few more droplets slipped out, he realized that it was blood.

Jace gave a sudden, harsh jerk and ended up coughing up a mouthful of blood and turned his head to the side, a low groan being released from the pit of his throat. His body convulsed as another cough had him spilling more. It lowered Jace's body, practically dropping it. Not taking the chance of the sea of creatures taking their hold of him again, Alec pulled once more, this time yanking free and nearly falling forward just in time to catch Jace with his forearms under the other's arms, supporting him with Jace's back pressed against his abdomen; blood from the severed wing bled through his sweater.

He stared up at the creature; but it was gone. He looked around as the scene surrounding them began to dissipate. Instead, he was surrounded by the red glow from the pentacle in darkness. His heart raced as low, chanting voices were as a hum around them; he looked back, noticing that they were only one large step from where the diagram ended – nothing but darkness lie beyond. With gravity still against him, he forced a step backwards. The chants became louder and he could feel the pressure on his body trying to force him down to the floor. Clamping his eyes shut, he tensed his entire body and gave a final hard pull, jerking Jace from the full diagram and collapsing with Jace against his stomach onto the concrete beyond the Marks.

The red glow died out and he was reintroduced to the cold, blood-covered, cement basement. He barely noticed Magnus coming towards him before his attention turned solely to Jace. His mind was a blur and he was unable to even hear the warlock speak to him: Everything sounded muffled, as though his ears were recovering from trauma. The only thing he was certain of was that he kept saying "Jace" over and over again. He began focusing back in when Magnus was helping to pull Jace off of him and lay him down gently on the floor. Alec fell forward to his hands and knees, leaning over Jace as his eyes trailed up and down his comrade's broken form. His hand hovered from down Jace's face to his chest, quivering when it reached the glass blade jammed into his chest.

Slowly, he gripped the hilt of the blade with his left hand, moving his eyes from it to Jace's face. His breath hitched in his throat, knowing that, what he was about to do, would give him mere seconds. With his right hand drawing out his stele, he held his breath and, as quickly as he could, pulled the blade from the other's chest. Blood immediately began flowing from the wound and Alec ripped apart the black t-shirt, baring Jace's chest so he was able to create an iratze as close to his heart as he was able.

With it being so close to the fatal wound, it began healing; it quickly scabbed over before being replaced with skin. The bruises traced up and down his stomach began to disappear and the slices on his face slowly vanished, healing with the rest. Yet, though the Mark was able to heal that on his body, it did not seem to do the same for the severed wing – it did not even begin to mend where it had been cut.

Jace began groaning, though it sounded more like a grunt mixed with a restrained cry. Setting down his stele, Alec moved to pull Jace off of the hard floor, relieving the pressure put on the broken wing by being compressed to the cement. Jace released more of the same noises, but the more he released them, the more pronounced the pain in his voice sounded. He began panting before clenching his jaw and trying to force his eyes open.

"Jace…!" Alec got out, eyes lighting up, seeing the blonde come to.

Jace released another pain-filled grunt as he stared up at Alec through slit eyes. "Alec…?" he got out, barely above a whisper. Alec only nodded, trying to keep his eyes from watering. Jace groaned, clamping his eyes shut and pressing against Alec, allowing the other's body heat and scent comfort him. "I'm sorry," he spoke in a forced breath. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated.

Alec released a laugh, though it was apparent the laugh was only to cover up his will to not let his voice crack. A drop escaped from his eye and he shook his head. "What are you apologizing for, you idiot?"

Jace held back a cry when the broken wing twitched. "It hurts…it really hurts," he muttered, voice filled with pain.

Alec gave way to his emotions and was no longer able to stop his eyes from doing what they wanted. "You're an idiot, Jace," he said as he embraced his broken ally, unwilling to allow him to be taken again. "You're a freakin' idiot…."

I know that a lot of you were like, "WTF?" when I had the humour going on with Magnus and Alec, but, the way it goes is that they didn't really know what to expect. Magnus, more or less, was anticipating it all to be a hoax, so he was, naturally, trying to enlighten the mood.

That and the fact I have a weird since of humour. And, I don't know if anyone caught on, but the whole "It's a raccoon" bit, I did get from the Nickelodeon show iCarly, when Spencer (Carly's brother) finds a dead, practically mummified, raccoon in the back of an old arcade gaming console. Granted, the dialogue and how they go about it in this fic is completely different, but I did get my inspiration for that scene from that show. X3

Probably just one more chapter!