It had been a week since their fight, and Clary rarely saw Jace. He did a very good job of avoiding the Institute completely, allowing Clary ample time to train with Isabelle and Alec. But this morning, when Clary woke to an empty bed once again, she felt at a loss. The sheets next to her were folded neatly against the sides, tucked under the mattress slightly. It was as amusing as it was sad. She wanted to giggle at Jace's quirky habits, wanted to collect that knowledge and store it in the little vault of her brain that stored all Jace-related things, but she didn't feel permitted. He was drifting away from her, and she was less then entitled to share a bed with him. She sighed, rubbing at a tense knot in her shoulder. Why couldn't her life be like any other 17 year olds.

Well, 18 year old, as of today. An adult.

She groaned as she stretched, her muscles aching in the most delicious way, due to her training and training alone. Jace had been too late coming in last night to catch her awake, and the night before he slipped under the sheets without a word. In fact, the only time he'd touched her recently was awkward and fleeting brushes of his hand on her back or shoulder. She supposed that was normal, that at some point they had to calm down with that sort of thing, yet she had to say she missed the delicate ache between her legs. But she was angry at him, right? He was being unreasonable and clingy and so she pushed him away a little bit; she reminded him of their boundaries.

He was the one who over-reacted. He was the one who pressured her to talk about her past when he very well knew she was sensitive about that sort of thing. He was the one who stopped initiating intimacy just because she didn't want to talk about her feelings. She didn't want any relationship. She didn't want to share with him. That's what people did when they were in love. And Clary wasn't in love.

She grumbled as she made her way downstairs, her bare feet padding against the floor as the slight chill of the air cooled her bare legs. She was wearing one of Jace's shirts, foregoing pants as the only other people in this building were those apparently uninterested in having sex with her. If Jace was even here this morning. Most mornings he was out the door before she woke.

Her hand trailed against the wall, the smooth stone texture soothing on her fingertips.

She missed touching his skin.

But she was angry. She should just leave him and go on her own-

She pushed away the Voice, who only appeared sporadically now, with constant reminders against it. Clary was angry. That was the truth. But she still wanted him. She wanted to be a them again.

As she padded into the kitchen, she startled at the sight of his blond head poking around in the fridge. Isabelle looked up from where she was cooking at the stove to greet Clary as she hesitantly stepped through the threshold. "Hey, I'm just cooking up some eggs, do you want some?"

Clary couldn't take her eyes off the back of Jace's head, or his shoulders, flexing as he rummaged through the fridge. She just shook her head yes and twirled a piece of her hair between her fingers. It was more strawberry then blond now. She missed her old fiery locks.

"Isabelle, please for the love of god stop cooking-" Jace turned around, closing the fridge behind him as he tossed a grape in his mouth. His eyes went wide when he saw Clary, the grape lodging in his throat and causing him to cough. "Oh-oh my go-od, you scared me-" another fit of coughing.

"Oh, shit Jace are you okay?" Isabelle dropped her pan onto the stove as she slammed a hand at Jace's back, trying to pound the cough out of him, Clary guessed. It would have been comical if Clary and Jace weren't so...weird lately. After two or three rough blows to his back, Jace caught Izzy's hand.

"Please, Isabelle," he said, and she backed away to continue cooking. Jace looked over at Clary, amusement in his gaze as the met her own. She was held breathless by his eyes, almost glowing in the warm light of the kitchen, bright with laughter as he looked at her. But the light died shortly, his gaze filling up with memory, context of their situation, and she felt that lingering awkwardness suffocating her.

"So, Red," Isabelle started, breaking Clary from her daze. " I'm thinking after breakfast we run through some of our basic warm ups and head to the weight room. And then maybe we can learn that sequence Alec was practicing the other day." Isabelle placed a plate of slightly burnt food in front of Clary, who took a bite of the blackened toast without hesitation. "I know you were eager to learn that one."

Clary nodded as she scarfed down her not-so-bad scrambled eggs (although Clary suspected they were supposed to be fried). Jace looked at the pair, his eyes uncomfortable and surprised. He took a sip from a glass of water on the counter.

"You guys are already on combat sequencing?" Jace asked, eyes intrigued and almost insecure. "How'd you get there so fast?"

Isabelle turned off the stove, placing a plate in front of Jace, which he nugged away with disgust. Izzy held one for herself, heaping with food. "Red takes to everything pretty quickly, not to mention she has some of the greatest teachers." Izzy mumbled as she scarfed down her eggs, and Jace placed a hand over his heart.

"Thanks, Iz. I appreciate that."

"Oh." Isabelled looked right into his eyes, "I wasn't talking about you, sweetie." She grinned at Jace, walking out of the kitchen with her food, probably to eat and change in her room. They still had a half hour before training, so Isabelle probably wanted to spend it alone. Although her encouraging glance at Clary made it seem like Isabelle intended for Clary to be alone...with Jace.

Maybe their awkwardness was more noticeable than Clary thought.

When Izzy had been gone for more than a few minutes, and neither Jace nor Clary had spoke, she pushed her plate away from herself with a scrape. "I can just leave Jace, if you want me to." Clary blurted, the sentence stirring the almost settled pool of misunderstanding between them.

Jace looked confused.

"What do you mean, leave?" His voice was low, a soft timber that she ached for. "Do you want to leave?" He sounded almost hurt.

"No!" She amended quickly, her hand reaching toward him as if she could physically stop his thought process. "No I-I thought you wanted me to...because I can't...I can't give you what you want." Her voice trailed off, the quite and shameful smothering of a thought.

"Give me what I want?" he scoffed, his eyes filling with offense and anger. Clary was shocked into making eye contact, expecting a different response- not anger. "When have I ever told you I wanted something you didn't want to give? When have I been anything but considerate and willing to help you satisfy your needs?!" His voice was bitter, powerful, and it left Clary confused.

"I-I... you want me to talk about my-about myself and my past and my feelings and-" he cut her off, his face contorted with bitterness.

"I was trying to help you-"

"Oh you were trying to help, were you?!"

"Yes, because other people have also had shitty lives and have learned things from them- things you might want to consider before ignoring your issues and blowing off steam by murdering people,! You're fucking deranged, Cl-" Jace cut himself off, chest heaving. Anger was a taxing emotion, after all. A person runs out of anger, the well of rage having a clear and distinct bottom. Clary felt the sting of the words, felt them hit her in the back of her chest, crawl up the length of her throat, pool behind her gritted teeth. He was right. That was the funny part.

He was absolutely, 100%, correct.

She shot him a pained smile, nodded and walked out of the room.

Clary used her training with Izzy to work off stress. She liked the punching bag that hung in the corner of their weight room, liked the feeling off her fists sinking into the tough fabric. It was like kneading dough, but with her fists. The girls were running through that sequence Alec was practicing when Isabelle stopped for a water break.

"So you and Jace are sort of..." Isabelle started, hoping Clary might pick up the conversation from there. Clary did not. "Fighting?"

"You could say that," Clary murmured, sipping from her bottle. "He wants us to be closer, like, emotionally. I don't want to do that."

Isabelle looked at her without judgement, even nodding in understanding. "I used to be that way too," she looked down, fidgeting in a familiar way, probably to help her nerves. "I had...this guy friend, Meliorn, for a while. We'd hand out, party together, fuck, obviously." Isabelle laughed. "Like, of course we did. But I never trusted him. I wouldn't even sleep in is house, to make sure he wasn't setting me up. I rarely spoke to him about myself. It was always about him. And that was fine, because he didn't even try to get to know me. He didn't give a shit. And then I met this new guy, who is the opposite of everything I thought I'd be into, who is a nerdy, hilarious, beautiful man that never ceased to care about me. I tried to shut him out, I tried to make up excuses to ignore my feelings, but he didn't give up." Isabelle looked up from where she rested against the wall.

"I guess I'm trying to say that, people who try are people who care. And I don't know how exposed to this world you really are, but that's something to cherish."

She got that. She really did. She knew Jace wasn't coming from a bad place, and she knew opening up would feel so good, would be healthy even, but- "I'm scared, Izzy." Clary twisted the cap of her water bottle in her hands, voice wavering. She kept her eyes fixated on one spot on the ground, letting her mind sort itself out. "I'm terrified that he'll leave me if he knows everything about me." A single tear fell from her cheek onto the ground. The next was stopped by Isabelle's delicate hand.

"It is terrifying, Red." Isabelle pulled her chin up so Clary could look directly into her eyes. They were a warm brown, calming against the anxiety tearing her insides apart. "But it's worth being scared for. And besides, even if Jace acts completely out of character and leaves you in the dust, you're my friend now too. And I would never leave you alone. You're way too innocent for this world, Red. I won't let it hurt you." Her bright smile broke Clary's heart. And the hug she was engulfed in put it back together.

She stayed buried in Izzy's shoulder for a moment, enveloped by this beautiful, dark, lovely woman in front of her. "I'm glad that we're friends, Isabelle." She smiled. "Thank you, for that."

"No problem." She backed away, her lingering hand showing she was still available for comfort. " Now let's get back to that uppercut combo, it's a lot easier than you're making it."

Clary laughed, and wondered why she hadn't come to Isabelle before. This is what friends were for. "Okay," she said, and smiled despite her aching heart.

She'd already been in the shower for 10 minutes before her thoughts drifted away from her revenge plots and combat techniques to Jace. They always drifted back to him. For the past week they'd usually been anxious, worried, scared. Unsure of their future and reminiscent about her past. But now all she could think about was the way he kissed her.

She touched her lips.

The memory was just an echo now, lost from a lack of recent experience. He was so talented with his mouth, always knowing exactly how to make her feel good. His kisses could relax her, excite her, make her lose all control. God she missed him. Missed running her hands down his chest. Feeling his scarred, tanned skin under her fingertips. She loved the noises he would make, when she trailed those fingertips down his abdomen, curled them around his-

"Stop it, Clary" she murmured to herself, breathless in the steamy air. She tilted her head back into the brunt force of the showerhead, letting water droplets skim her body. Just like his hands would, skim her waist and gently run down the insides of her thighs. She let out a panting whimper in defeat as she slid her hand down her stomach, throwing her other against the wall for some small effort at support as her fingers started to move. She didn't touch herself too often, she couldn't quite appreciate the sensation enough when she was both giving and receiving. She didn't come. She didn't even come close to coming, not when she had Jace to compare to. But it was nice to be touched there again, even if it left her frustrated and wanting Jace more than ever.

She turned off the shower, sighing as she took her hand out from between her legs. She wrapped a towel around herself and thought about how insanely good Jace was at making her come. She was so worked up, not having any sexual contact in days, that she supposed even making out with him might get her off. Lost in her lustful thoughts, she barely registered that Jace was already in bed. She startled, quietly, and wrapped her towel a little more securely around herself.

He was sitting in bed, above the comforter, in only his pajama pants. And he was reading. With glasses on.

"Hi." Clary started, lost at what to say next. Jace was never home this early in the evening. It was only 7:30 or something. He got in around 10 on the regular. "You're here...uh early." she said, a little forced to be normal. There wasn't awkwardness anymore, not when they'd broken away from it so violently this morning. Now there was only tension. Thick, heavy tension.

'I took the night off." He offered no other explanation.

"Oh?" Clary said, walking toward the closet. She dropped the towel along the way, and quickly worked her way into one of his comfiest sweaters. It was so big that it came to her knees and was a brilliant blue colour. It looked way better on him than it did her, but the look on Jace's face as she slipped into bed next to him told her he quite liked it on her too. She tuned away, her back facing his direction as she pretended (once again) to fall asleep.

"I wanted to talk to you," he started, his voice low and deep. It was embarrassing how much she loved his voice. He probably knew, too. Probably talked so much when they were fucking just because he knew she liked it. Got off on it. That was what Jace did, accommodated her. And she was a selfish asshole that couldn't even share her feelings. She turned back around, sitting up so she was at his level. His face was so beautiful, so lovely, exquisite even. She wanted to see it more.

"Okay." She said, trying her hardest to be open. He was trying, he was caring, and that was an act of bravery worth reciprocation. She met his slightly surprised gaze. Gold. Brilliant, dazzling gold. Her golden boy, who spun words until they were weapons but acted only of good intention. She could be open for him. She could forgive whatever anger was between them. She would. Because she missed him.

"Let's talk then"

Jace put his book down, a bit surprised but overwhelmingly eager to talk to his... friend? Girlfriend? Lover? No. Not lover. His...his Clary. When he met her gaze again, brilliant, vibrant green, he felt the overwhelming shame he kept hidden in his heart, leak into his stare.

"I want to say I'm sorry." He said, which wasn't something he often did. But he overreacted, and he was being difficult, and he needed to be more supportive and less forceful when it came to her. Because he wanted to wait for her to be comfortable, and then she could tell him everything. That was the new plan, the better plan.

"For what?"

Shit.

There it was.

How many things was it, that he needed to apologize for, if she had to fucking ask which one this apology was for specifically. He felt that shame rise, the guilt surface. But he couldn't take that out on her. He willed it down. "For everything, I guess. For..."he swallowed hard, looked away. "For pressuring you into being open with me, and trying to make you talk about stuff you were clearly not wanting to talk about. For-for calling you deranged and criticizing the way you deal with your problems, as if you're any more fucked than the rest of us-"

She cut him off. "No, no Jace I meant why. You have nothing to be sorry for. I- I'm the one who should be..." She choked on her words, prompting his gaze from its fixated spot on the covers.

He looked at her, his beautiful Clary. She was sitting half under the covers, wrapped up in his favourite sweater. Her hair was long, and more red than blond now, falling to her waist. She was elegant and graceful, stunning. And she had tears in her shining emerald eyes.

"I-I shouldn't be so closed up. I shouldn't have pushed you away when you were trying to help me." She was talking, her voice cracking as more tears spilled from her cheeks and his heart just broke. Right in half. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, and that I can't accept any advice or wisdom because I'm too fucking immature to recognize a good person when I see it. And I'm sorry I keep pushing you away," she was sobbing now, and he didn't know what to do or how to make her stop. "I'm sorry I'm terrified of telling you the truth, and that I can't fully trust you, and I'm sorry I can't be the person you want I just, I-I fucking hate myself Jace I hate parts of myself so much and if you see those parts you might run away forever and you're all I have right now and I can't lose you. "

She was a crumpled piece of paper, folded in haphazardly on herself as she clutched her heaving chest. He didn't know what to do, didn't register the tears pouring down his own cheeks as he rested a hand on her back. "No, baby you're not going to lose me. I'm right here. And you don't have to apologize for anything Clary. That's just...that's just you. And I'm okay now, with letting you just be you. It was my fault, being angry was stupid and I'm sorry, baby I'm so sorry." She kept crying, folded herself away from him as he wrapped his arms around her. "What can I do, just tell me how to help? How do I make this better?"

She shook her head, back and forth, and faced further away.

He understood, sort of. He used to hate himself to. When his parents first died and after, when Hodge had-

No, this was different. This was Clary. And she had to deal with her problems in her own way, not through his method. But he wanted to be there for her. He wanted to help. He had no fucking clue why, just that he wanted to see her work through this. So he wrapped his arms tighter around her, kissed her once right in between the shoulder blades, and just held her.

She cried herself to sleep that night. And he tucked her in, held her close. He took care of her.

That's what he was going to do from now on.