So this is outrageously long and has some graphic stuff but i didn't want to split it into two chapters. Anyways enjoy :)

Jace ran a hand through his hair once again, the dirty blonde locks feeling greasy from all the times he'd repeated the act. His face felt tight, his eyebrows drawn together in a scowl that has lasted too long. It had been almost 6 hours now since he'd woken up to find Clary missing, 6 hours since his heart tightened in an uncontrollable constriction that seemed to steal the breath from his lungs and rob his mind of everything but a feeling he had yet to pinpoint. It was a strange feeling, a discomfort that had wormed its way into his bones, leaching the marrow from the middle only to replace it with itself. It took hold of his muscles and swung him around his house like a puppet tied to strings. At first, it made him run downstairs to fetch his fastest car and go after Clary, but after he found the car was missing and a swarm of police was crowding the main entryway, Jace made his way back upstairs.

Jace rubbed his wrist as he paced in front of his apartment window, overlooking the network of lights that was the city. His anxiety set to work in his mind, an orchestra to the symphony that weaved a thousand different plausible stories like they were music, fluttering about his mind and echoing off the walls as soundwaves do. She could be anywhere out there. Carlin's men could have taken her right under his nose and were holding her hostage at this very moment, waiting for him to come find her. Or worse yet, Jonathon could have found out he had her and was torturing her for information about Valentine as.

Jace didn't even want to think of (considering their conversation earlier that day) the most likely option. Ironically it was both simultaneously the best and worst, that she'd chosen to leave him and was out there, scampering around the slums of her old neighborhood, trying to find someone to kill. Or maybe she was on her way to the closest airport, leaving the country (and her problems here) for good.

Leaving him.

Jace shook his head but the thoughts wouldn't leave, the anger rising from somewhere deep inside. It bit at his tongue, making him scream in frustration as he continued to pace. He rubbed his wrist even harder, the skin going red beneath his palm. How dare she abandon him after all he did to help her, after all the times he'd saved her. How dare she leave him. How dare she willingly walk away, how dare she take back the...feelings shared between them. Jace ran scarred hands over his face as he sat down to steady himself. He tried to reign in his anger, the panic and anxiety of the situation were twisting his thoughts into something foreign, into monsters that Jace knew would eat him from the inside, would tear his perceptions of other people to shreds, wreck havoc in his mind and dig their teeth into his brain once again. Jace was always aware. He knew the signs.

It had happened too many times before to not know them.

He searched inside for the root of it because anger was never simply anger. It always stemmed from sadness or fear, that's what Hodge (his therapist for a brief time) had always told him. And Jace knew that right now he was feeling both, but was afraid to admit it. Because it meant that he cared about Clary. It meant that he'd grown...fond...of her. And it meant that if she left him, even after the closeness they shared...that she'd really left him. The insecurities that were so deeply engraved into his skin and scars resurfaced and made to suffocate him. He raked his hand across his scalp and tried to hold them at bay. Clary wasn't doing this to him, he told himself. He was doing this to himself. Jace was fraying the ends of his confidence, setting fire to the memories of smiles and love that he could still remember. His anger at Clary calmed down.

All that was left was the pain of loss, and a grief so subtle that his heart couldn't even protect itself when it wiggled in between the cracks of his walls.

Jace didn't even know that grief didn't always accompany death. He wished he still didn't.

Clary's feet were terribly sore, the heels of her boots were digging into her skin and she could practically feel new calluses forming from the weight of her body and the long journey. Her thighs and calves ached with every step, but not necessarily in a bad way. Yes, she was tired, but these were the aches she was used to. Clary was never one for cars, and public transport only took her so far, so walking was one of the small salvations in her life from before. And now it became her salvation again, the burn of her muscles and the drive to get home outweighing the fear and determination in her heart.

Home. Clary stopped in her tracks for a moment. She hadn't known that she'd thought of Jace's apartment as home.

And even thinking of it now, as Clary started walking once again, she realized that she didn't think of the apartment as home, but rather Jace. Jace was comfortable and warm and he'd shown her a respect that she'd never gotten before. In her freshly insightful mind, she'd even say that he'd shown her the closest thing to love that she'd ever experienced.

home...

you've never had a home before

Clary started as the Voice returned to her mind, a whisper in the back of her skull. She hadn't even realized it was gone. She hadn't even...missed it.

Silly girl, I was never gone.

I will never be gone.

I will be silent. But never gone.

And your home will always be with me. Only me.

Clary twirled a piece of hair around a finger as she walked in the early morning, the sky still a deep navy blue as she spotted Jace's apartment building on the horizon, the familiar rounded shape a beacon against the starlight. An ominous tone accompanied the Voice...and Clary didn't want to admit it, but it frightened her. She shivered in the misty air, a chill seeping slowly into her bones. She was too tired to think about what that fear meant, but she knew that it was something big.

Jace was sitting in one of the chairs of his loft, his head in his hands as his heart beat wildly out of control. Clary's absence was doing something to him, making him feel real emotions, emotions other than anger and lust, for the first time in a long time. Clary always did that, though, from the first time he'd met her. He'd felt wonder, and intrigue, he saw himself in her. Jace shook out of his thoughts again, they'd get him nowhere, lead him only to heartbreak and pain. And they only doubled the guilt that always bubbled at the back of his throat when he thought of Clary.

He'd spent most of the night awake, waiting for...something to happen. Waiting for Carlin's thugs to show, or Jonathon to call him into work, even Alec to hit him up on his cell.

He'd spent the night awake waiting for her. Helplessly waiting for her.

Waiting for her to walk through the door, a smile on her face, and wrap her delicate arms around him, trace his scars with her graceful trigger fingers, stroke away his tremors, kiss away his insecurities. Waiting for her to do what Clary does best. He wanted her so that he could forget the rest of the world for a couple hours, so that he could hold someone that he knew wouldn't be disgusted by the things he'd done or thought. To kiss someone who respected him, who understood the evil that lingered just beneath the surface, constantly threatening to break through. Someone with the same murderous instinct running through their veins, someone who made him want picket fenced houses at the same time as leather-clad nightclub kills.

Someone that was her.

He missed her.

And if she somehow made her way back into his arms...he didn't think he'd let her go.

Jace laid back on his couch in the living room, gazing at the early morning sky. A mist drifted from the already bustling streets of the city as the sun's rays just started to brighten into morning skies, the sunlight escaping from a skyline obstructed by towering buildings and advertisements. His heart fluttered as it tightened in a terrible way that Jace hated. It seemed to suck his breath from the depths of his lungs, twist his tongue into a knot, crunch his forehead into a scowl. He closed his eyes with a deep exhale and willed sleep to come, for he wouldn't be able to function without sleep. He wouldn't be able to look for her tomorrow if he couldn't keep his eyes open.

And he would be looking tomorrow. He gave her a day, if she wanted to be with him she'd have come back by now. Which meant she was captured, had left the city, or even worse, killed. If he could find her he would. And he wouldn't wait another day.

Going back to Jace's wasn't exactly a choice. Clary knew that she needed him to finish her mission, to kill the remaining three douchebags that cause her mother's death.

She also knew that something had tied her to that fucking boy and it wouldn't let her leave him, not like this, not unannounced.

The morning light was rising at her back, a dazzling bright white haze that glinted off of the metallic materials of Jace's apartment building. Anticipation and relief warmed her heart. Relief to be out of the dark neighborhoods that haunted her past, to be out of the dust-filled house that trapped all of her ghosts behind its doors. Relief to be away from the stiff and bloated corpse of her father and the feelings it brought up. Jace always provided some sort of comfort, a familiar flirting lust that Clary could lose herself in. There was anticipation as well. Anticipation to be home, in a bed, resting her exhausted body, excitement for a bath and bed, or even the couch if Jace was mad.

Anticipation to see him again. Clary made to walk up the steps when she caught sight of a couple cops milling around in the lobby. Clary easily remembered her run in with the cops a few days ago, she didn't think he was suspicious of her...she could just remember how he'd watched her retreat into the elevator with narrowed eyes. It wasn't unexpected really, she did fit the description of the culprit of a double homicide. Hell, she was that culprit.

Clary quickly turned away from the big foyer doors and skirted around to the back entrance of the building, pulling up her hood and tucking her bright red hair inside. She should really ask Jace for some hair dye or something. There was only one cop back here, speaking into a static-filled radio as he walked in the opposite direction of Clary. She shivered as he neared her airspace, and quickened her pace. It may have made her more suspicious but Clary couldn't give a shit.

Her dad had conditioned her in strange ways to avoid cops, probably to protect his own ass. When she was little he would tell her stories of corrupted officials, tell her that they murdered and got away with it, that they would kill Clary, or worse, force her to do the things that Mommy did. Or course as Clary grew older she knew that wasn't true...but some shit fucks you up for life.

Clary made her way up the stairs, not daring to take the elevator and just wanting to be home already. It was so frustrating having to skirt around these pathetic out of shape losers when she could easily snag one of their pistols and do away with them all.

There it is, the Voice snuck into the back of her mind. It wasn't as forceful as usual, almost quieter. But still there, still present.

That's the Clary I know, the one who doesn't give a shit about any life but her own.

That's how you survive.

Being alone is being alive.

Clary shook her head, refusing to believe it. The Voice had never liked Jace, and this was just another tactic to get her to use him. That's all. But still, the thought struck a chord somewhere deep inside Clary. Somewhere that remembered the isolation that Clary always loved, and how safe it was, how harmless. Inside her bubble she was alone, yes, but when she was alone-

no one can hurt you.

Not when you're with me and only me.

Survive. Alive is alone.

No! Clary shook her head and pushed everything from her head besides exhaustion and the excitement. She would see Jace again, and she would be happy, and the Voice would be quiet!

...

Silence answered the command, and Clary sighed a breath of relief. She could reunite with Jace without the Voice chiming in unwanted, which was a gift in itself. The normal thoughts were still held at bay, which also reassured Clary immensely and allowed her a silent walk up the stairs.

It wasn't long before Clary made her way to the staircase leading towards Jace's room, and then to his doorway. She didn't have a key but when she checked the door it swung wide open, silent on its hinges. She'd need to discuss that with Jace, it wasn't safe to leave the door unlocked, not in this world. She smiled as a familiar comfort rolled over her heart at the sight of the barren white walls and the furniture, the windows that gazed upon the city with wide glass panels for eyes, and on the couch-Jace himself. He still slept, though Clary knew he must've gotten up at some point for furniture was scattered and pushed about like he'd bumped into the corners of the tables and chair more than a few times.

She let the door close behind her as she stepped inside, shrugging off her jacket and shoes. The loud breaths that Jace always made when he was dead tired drifted into Clary's ears, a pleasantly mundane sound that almost brought her to tears. She felt like she'd been away for months, maybe years even. She'd been through so much emotional insight and revelation in the past day that she felt completely wasted and mentally exhausted, and just wanted to curl up in his arms.

But he needed his sleep. The dark circles beneath his eyes made that apparent.

So she smiled a weak smile, eyes watery and kind, and she pulled a blanket from the nearby chair to lay overtop his shivering body. She stared at his face for a moment, the planes and angles startlingly beautiful. His eyelashes stood like obsidian pen strokes against the bronzed parchment that was his skin, his forehead crinkled in a way that told her he'd gone to sleep upset, and he was so astoundingly perfect, so astonishingly familiar and hers, that the least she could do was bring her lips to the crown of his head in a kiss. She lingered for a moment, taking in the scent of gunpowder and sunshine that always lingered around Jace, before standing up with a sigh. Her hand lingered on his broad shoulder as she moved away from him, not wanting to leave.

He was so peaceful in his sleep.

She physically couldn't disrupt him when he was like this.

And so she made for the bedroom, where she hid her bag of information in her older bag of clothes, stuffing it all behind the cabinet. She took off her all her clothes in a daze and slipped on a clean, oversized, Jace-shirt, before crawling under the covers for a long night's (or well, a long day's) sleep.

Jace woke up mid day with a start. He jolted from his spot on the couch, heart pounding from his nightmare, arms tangling in a blanket he didn't remember putting on himself. As Jace's pulse calmed down and his eyes adjusted to the light (he wasn't accustomed to waking up in daylight) he started to register his surroundings. Like how the tassels of the throw blanket over him were twisting between his fingers, and how a warmth lingered in the atmosphere of the apartment, a liveliness that had been gone for the past 2 days. Pots clinked together in the kitchen, which he could barely see while laying down, and a soft humming emitted from the same place.

Jace's heart just about stopped.

Cautiously, as if he were going to walk in on a crime scene, Jace stood from the couch. Because of the half wall in between the living room and the kitchen Jace could only see parts of it, and it seemed like no one was there. He moved closer just as a red head swung into view, popping up from the floor.

Clary, his heart whispered, the echoes of such a beautiful statement singing in his veins until he felt made of air, made of light, until he felt so goddamned relieved that it didn't feel real.

Clary turned her head as Jace walked into the kitchen with wide eyes, and the smile on her perfect face took his breath away. She was here. In his kitchen. Like the last two days he spent shaking with insecurity and anxiety were just a nightmare. Jace would have thought they were, had his stomach not been knawing away at itself like he hadn't eaten in days. Dazed, he sat at his small circular table and Clary resumed her singing.

He basked in the feeling for a moment, closing his honey eyes to the world. He felt lust for her, that was certain, but a peacefulness overcame him as well. The warmth of cooking tumbled across his skin, the soft melodic humming caressed his ears, and Jace wasn't a murderer, and the girl across from him wasn't a killer seeking revenge, and just for a second they were two hopeless people in a world where love seemed possible.

But then he opened his eyes.

She set a plate of eggs in front of him, scooping some from the pan for herself before taking a seat across from him.

He didn't plan to speak, but the words "You left me," tumbled from his lips. She paused, her fork hovering near her mouth. Finishing the bite she nodded, not meeting his eyes.

Not a good enough answer.

Not an answer at all.

The anger started to bubble beneath his skin again. Or rather...the hurt.

"Why did you leave me? Why did you just...go without any notice...or, god-"he was stuttering on his own words, trying to string some sort of English together that could describe what he was feeling. "-even leave a note? I thought Carlin might have captured you, or even worse-Jonatho-"

"I told you earlier where I was going." she cut him off. Her tone was such a contrast to her humming. Cool and short compared to the soft warmth that had soothed him. he wanted her to hum again. "It's not my fault you overreacted."

His eyebrows quirked up and he let out a scoff. How dare she? "Overreacted, my ass! There are cops saying you were seen in this building, meaning my ass is on the line, you stole my fucking favourite car- and you're saying I'm overreacting?!"

Clary was looking anywhere but his face, settling on his hands, which were clenched into a clump on the table. "I get it Jace, I'm a terrible person. But I'm not sorry." That surprised him into listening to her, her food long forgotten and pushed to the side as she folded her hands together, just inches from his own. He wanted her to take hold of his hands. He wanted her to kiss his scarred palms, brush her lips against his knuckles, place a finger in between her lips and look at him from underneath her eyes before sucki- No. He stopped the thought. He listened. "I'm not sorry because I needed to do this." she started "I needed to see my old home to...to get some kind of closure. Yes, it reminded me of the bad times, but it also reminded me of who I think I am, where I came from, what I'm aiming to do. It gave me the motivation to continue on, what I thought was an impossible journey, and now...now I can finally seek my revenge. I can avenge my mother and the life I would of had if she hadn't been murdered. I can...I can finally move past this." She met his eyes and the truth radiating from them was so powerful it almost knocked him over. "I'm not sorry for doing that. But I am sorry that I left you the way I did." She swallowed. "That wasn't right of me to do and I'm sorry."

Jace took a steadying breath, so much emotional openness confused him after she'd been so closed off for so long. But she told him the truth, he decided, and he would do the same.

"I'm happy you've found some sort of closure." She smiled at him and, from beneath her eyelashes, caught his gaze. "But I can't deal with the thought of you dying, or being tortured, or...or leaving me." the last part was a whisper. "Not right now, when I know you need this so much, and not when I need...need you so much. I missed you, Clary. A-a lot. And it scares me how much I've come to depend on you." Clary gazed at him with wide eyes. He felt tears rise uncontrollably in his and tried his hardest to blink them away. he didn't know where this was coming from. He didn't like the emotion rising in his throat, or the hurt that threatened to suffocate him. And so he planned to do what he did best.

Jace stood up from his chair and moved over to squat in front of her, his eyes at the height of her own. "I want you, Clary." it was a slow whisper as he dipped his head towards hers and captured her lips in a soft kiss. There was a fire lingering behind it that hinted the next one wouldn't be as sweet. His lips brushed against her earlobe as he whispered again, "Please don't leave me again."

She nodded roughly and moved to pull his face to hers, but he wasn't having that. He needed to show her. Show her what he could do for her, show her that he needed her, prove to her that she needed him too. She had to need him too, right? Especially when he drowned without her.

His lips moved to just below her jaw, brushing gently over the skin. His eyes fluttered shut, tickling the soft skin of her neck. He pressed a dry kiss to where her pulse beat, and he tried hard as he might to tell her what he couldn't in words. A kiss on her throat, I missed you, the wet kiss in the space between her collarbones, I need you, the brush of his tongue and the nip of his teeth at the place where her neck sloped into her shoulder, I want you.

She let out a breathy sigh that sounded like she whispered her pleasure directly into his ear, all for him to bask in. And by god it was the fucking sexiest thing he'd ever heard. Jace swept blazing red hair over her shoulder before picking her up from her chair and attaching his mouth to her shoulder once again, sucking as hard as he could at the skin there. Clary groaned under her breath, the switch between gentle and rough surprising her as he felt her hips thrust against his own hard length. God he missed her. Missed this lust. His erection was steadily growing, getting harder as she mewled in his ear. Fuck. She was the absolute sexiest thing in this goddamn world and he was not letting her go. A wave of possessiveness made him flush, and when he nipped at the place underneath her jaw, and her nails dug into his shoulders in the most pleasurably painful way, Jace ground his hips in return. Mine, he thought but it quickly fled his mind as the space between the two grew more heated, their hands fluttering over each others' bare skin, underneath their clothes.

Jace picked her up by her beautiful pale thighs and carried her to the bedroom. As he walked he moved his tongue against her skin tasting salt and soap and Clary. The familiar scent of his shampoo lingered in the air and Jace realized she must have had a shower.

Though Jace was riled up and filled with need, he did not throw her onto the bed.

He laid her on it, gently unfolding her limbs so she was spread before him, everything he wanted the past two days, everything he craved.

She was so sweet, but also ruthless, strong but shy, and so fucking beautiful, so completely insane, and so much like himself. She was the good that he couldn't be, the bad that he was so frighteningly intrigued by, and he was the freedom that she craved so desperately. Together they were absolutely perfect.

He did not attack her lips with his own.

He pressed them against her with finesse, a fiery caress of skin against skin, nerves igniting and sending tingles to his fingertips, to the very tips of his hair. He captured her top lips in his own and sucked, her light groan forcing him to pause and moan in return as he moved his clothed erection against her heat. Jace took her bottom lips between his teeth and pulled, hard, and he was rewarded with the arch of Clary's back, her soft breasts pressing against his chest. Her tongue escaped and traced the seam of his lips, and he gladly allowed her to explore his mouth with her own. She was clumsy, still new to this, but he coaxed his own tongue to twist and meet hers with a pressing sensation that went straight to his groin. He murmured softly as he pressed down into her, fighting to be gentle, to be everything that he wasn't normally.

Jace moved down Clary's neck again, slowly, tortuously, unbuttoning his shirt from to reveal her heaving naked chest. He took one of her full breasts into his palm, sucking gently at the skin by her ribs, just underneath the swell of skin. She released another quiet moan, and though Jace wanted her screaming, this did so much more for him. Her breathy sighs were the things that kept him up at night, that ran from his ears and straight to his now fully hardened member. God. She was addicting. He sucked on her skin, teasing and neglecting the pink nipple begging to be tugged at by his teeth while rolling the other one in between two fingers. Clary rolled her hips against his own at the feeling and he couldn't help the loud moan that escaped his lips. He brought his mouth to the pink rosebud that was already pointed and ready to be sucked on, tugging it gently with his teeth before enclosing it in his mouth and sucking.

"Jace," Clary's voice was a pitch higher than normal, and the throaty exhale had him pressing his erection into the almost overwhelmingly hot junction of her thighs. God she felt so good against him, he missed her. All of her. And he would show her.

Jace released her one nipple, kissed the other one before moving down to her stomach, and lower, and even lower still.

Clary was out of her mind with bliss. The constant tweaking of her nipples and wet kisses down her flat stomach caused her to writhe beneath Jace uncontrollably. It wasn't anything new, he'd always played with her before, but there was this intention behind his actions that heightened the sensations. As Jace swiped his tongue across her lower abdomen Clary felt her muscles clench involuntarily, both outer and inner. She was so fucking wet it would have been embarrassing had she not been out of her mind with pleasure. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the pressure, but with Jace between her legs she couldn't even do that.

It was torture.

It was bliss.

Her moans were louder now as he dipped his tongue into the pocket of her hip, placed a kiss right above her panty line, and the moved again to her other ground out a harsh sound between gritted teeth. Jace chuckled against her skin and she felt the vibrations against her. She could feel herself grow even wetter, gyrating her hips against Jace's to get some kind of relief. His only response was to pull his hips away and smile against her stomach. Slowly and carefully he captured her panties between his teeth, pulling them down to her ankles. She was dumbfounded as she watched him kiss is way back up her legs, not knowing where he was going with this. He'd never taken his time before, neither of them had, and confusion started to slip into her pleasure induced haze. However when he neared the apex of her thighs Clary realized what was about to happen and widened her eyes. Before she could stop him however, he pressed his tongue flat against her clit and dragged the rough padding in short up and down motions. Clary fell back into the sheet in ecstasy, her hips pushing upwards. Jace clamped his hands down on them before moving his tongue again, right...there...oh fuck, but this time in circles and figure eights and- Fuck! Clary started to pant, her own hands massaging her breasts as Jace licked her from the bottom of her sex to her clit, flicking the tip of his tongue and dipping it inside her and- oh god.

A building pressure started low in her stomach, and she screamed Jace's name as she started to come undone beneath him. She moved her hips relentlessly against his face, hindered only by his hands, but he didn't stop, continuing to lick all of her...juices as she came beneath him. Fuck! Fuck! She was so sensitive as she rode out her orgasm, quite literally, on Jace. His tongue was licking up all of her and as her orgasm slowly faded, and her sensitivity caused her to cramp up, Jace slowly pulled away.

The sight of his shining lower face, slippery with herself, was so erotic Clary felt arousal stir within her again. Jace wiped a hand across his mouth before kissing his way uo her body again. God Clary loved this, loved his lips on her skin, loved this mutual lust that set fire to them, that made them feel whole. Jace had finally worked his way to her mouth, and though he was reluctant to kiss her at first, Clary quickly reached up and pressed her lips against his softly, slipping her tongue into his mouth. She could taste her juices on his tongue, and though it was kind of odd it was also incredibly hot. She realized a little too late that he still had all of his clothes on. She smirked, it was time to change that.

Clarke worked the belt from his pants, her fingers brushing against his length. Jace groaned as she threw the belt behind her, but stopped her curious fingers before they could take him in her hand.

"No babe, this is about you." he murmured, his eyes shut as he rested his forehead against her shoulder. He pressed a single kiss their, wet, but filled with a tenderness that accompanied some strong emotion. "I want you to be pleasured...to-to need me."

Clary smiled against his skin. "It'll pleasure me if I can pleasure you," she whispered hoarsely.

"You must be tired, you probably had a rough couple of nights. Lay down," his voice caressed her ears, "Get some more sleep. We'll talk in the morning." Now that he mentioned it she did feel quite tired. Satiated and drowsy, in fact. But then again- she didn't want to leave him hanging.

"I don't want to talk at all" she whispered huskily.

"Then we won't. But tonight, you sleep". And with that he tucked her under the covers, pulling her close so that she smelled of gunpowder, iron and Jace.

She decided she liked that smell.

She decided it reminded her, just a little bit, of what her home might smell like.

Clary decided she liked that thought.