Alright, so It's time I've had a word with all of you. I would enjoy some comments, if you don't mind. No, really. Please comment.

Oh, and this story, the plot, the characters, pretty much everything, belongs to Cassandra Clare, who is much better at writing than me and has published a new book, The Clockwork Angel, which you should all read.

'Alright.' I muttered to myself, 'Let's start the counting. Again. 1 and 2 and 3 E and A 4 and 1….' I poised my fingers over the Ivory keys of the piano, and press down on the right ones keeping in time with the counting I was doing. I could do the opening fine, but the first section after that always gave me trouble.

'1 and 2 and 3 E and A 4 and 1. Now, E flat, C and F…No, I mean G sharp…. Keep going, it's fine…No! That was suppose to be a dotted half, not a quarter! Whatever. And 2 and 3 – 4 1… NO!' I slapped down on the keys and rested my hand of my fore head. This was getting stupid. I had this song memorized at one point; Father had insisted. But I don't play the piano often anymore, so I'd fallen out of practice. The counting is driving me insane and trying to keep count and get the right notes while still doing the right hand, which is harder for me, use to be so easy. I stood up and went over to get my new Sensor, to replace the one Clary had gotten eaten. For whatever reason, it had a metronome on it. Or at least, at steady click that helped count time. I grabbed it out of my jacket pocket that was sitting on a fold out chair with my breakfast of last's night pizza. I been up since four, had one of the longest showers of my life, got some food and went straight to the Concert Hall. It wasn't far from the residential wing, but everyone claimed to like my playing; they didn't seem to mind that I was playing at, around six, today, and yesterday, I had been playing yesterday at, around two, having slept for a bit after bring Clary in. It was almost ten thirty, but no one had come to talk to me yet. The only break I've had, besides sleeping, was to burn Clary's clothes and to get some food.

Or maybe they had. I slowed to a stop in front of the piano and turned around. I had finished the pizza I had brought with me. Someone had brought me more? I guess I was concentrating so hard on the playing I didn't notice when someone had come in. Most likely Alec; He's the only one who ever comes near me when I play the piano. I went back to grab the pizza and found a cup of something sitting there, too. It smelt fine, so Isabelle didn't have anything to do with it. I grabbed a piece and the drink and sat back down at the piano. I put my new Sensor the top of the black, grand piano, and it started to click. I got use to the sound and started playing again.

It wasn't going well. I kept missing the notes, or when I hit them, it'd be on the wrong count. I kept going, though, until I was so off, I think I was playing a completely different song. The clicking was starting to get on my nerves, too. I picked up the Sensor to turn it off, only, it started clicking faster. I snapped. I slammed my hand down on the keys again, but this time, hard enough to snap off a corner of a D. It cut my pinkie, and the hit must have pushed the Sensor off its track, because it started going like crazy. Which made me madder. I spun around on the bench and whipped it towards the wall. It smashed into a mural of some angels playing a harp, and fell to the floor. I sighed and looked at the door like it could help me somehow. It didn't do anything, until Alec walked through it, so I guess it sent help in an annoying, frail package. I growled slightly and picked up the drink. Alec just stood there as I took a big swig, but when I put down my cup, he slinked over and sat beside me on the bench.

'Do you want me to help you count?' He asked in a pitying voice.

'Help count? No, I can do it fine without you.' I turned back towards the piano, but Alec in the way. 'Could you move?'

He didn't. 'Come on. I can keep a steady rhythm. Just tell me how and I'll count so you don't have to.' He insisted.

'Sure, fine.' I relented. 'Just…just not too loud, all right? I need to concentrate.'

He smiled slightly and moved over so I could sit in the middle. I gave him the counting, which Alec got right away. I started playing again, and found it so much easier. Alec's voice was just at the right tone where I could hear it, but not enough that it would bother me. The Sensor was still clicking away in the background, but I was too zoned out to be annoyed.

I got through the whole intro and first section with Alec's counting, and then through the second section and the ending, which I hadn't tried since I'd stopped playing. When the last notes rang out, Alec stopped counting and grinned. 'Wasn't that so much easier?'

It was, but I wasn't going to admit it. 'Sure, but your voice to so high; it's going to be stuck in my head for the rest of the day.' I stood up and went over to grab the other piece of now cold pizza. I could hear Alec biting his lip, which meant he wasn't sure if he wanted to say something. 'Spit it out, Alec,' I mumbled through the pizza. 'What do you want?'

'You must be really worried about that girl, huh?' He asked, he voice disappointed.

I turned to look at him, and saw his head was doing, staring intently at his hands. 'What are you talking about? And her name is Clary.'

He let out one chuckle, and shook his head. 'You always and only play the piano when you're anxious.' He shrugged. 'You've been playing it for almost twenty-four hours straight. How worried can you be?'

That surprised me. Had Alec really noticed that? He must be more observant than I though. I guess I did, but I hadn't realized that until he had mentioned it. When I 'd been all freaked out about my eyes in the beginning, I had played for a while, going through Vivaldi's whole Seasons piece. And after I had kissed Isabelle, I had played for a bit. Maybe it was me trying to reconnect with the disciplinary life with my father, where I had been calm and collected, always. If I hadn't, I would have felt father's anger.

'I'm not that worried, Alec.' Liar. 'I feel like I have to save her. It was my fault. If I hadn't gone after her, maybe she would have gotten home in time.' That was the truth. 'She'll get better and we'll send her home. It not like I want her to stay here.' That was a lie. I needed that calm that Clary brought back into my life, like a drug.

'So you don't really care if she dies? You know that she probably will, right? She's only human.' He sounded excited and hopeful, but why would he hope that she dies?

'No, not really. ' I shrugged. 'She's just a girl.' She's not just a girl. There's something about her, something I need. If she died….

There was a pause. Not a long one, but it was still awkward. Alec had his eyes closed and was smiling, whilst I was trying to hide that fact that I couldn't stand if Clary died. Finally Alec broke the silence.

'Jace… Does this have something to do with your father?'

My father? What? Where did that come from? Why did he mention my father? What connection did he have to this? No, Jace, don't think about- Too late. Memories of him and I, more of just him and even more of him and pain, pounded on the gates of my mind, until they broke through. The time with the hunting falcon; the way he told the servant to get rid of it after I had killed it for not doing what I had told, his expression when I had done something right, disappointed and proud at the same time, and when I had done something wrong, it was anger.

'This has…' The time I couldn't "kill" the 15 training mannequins fast enough, and when I had gone to leave out of anger at myself, he had pinned my jacket to the door with a throwing knife. But when I had gone to take it out, the blood meant he had pinned my arm the door: he always hit what he meant to. The bruises I would always have from him, the scars that still haven't faded.

'Nothing, nothing, to do…' The way he would always push me to be faster, train harder, become stronger. The fact that I had given the cab driver my father's description.

'My father.' The way I would always go to bed remembering his expression when he had told me to hide. His expression of remorseless relief. The way, a few nights after he had died, I'd want to kill my self for not being faster, not have trained hard enough, not become strong enough. The thought that maybe if I had, father would have asked me to fight with him and that he could have survived.

Alec was using his worried voice, but I couldn't see his face; all I could see was father. Father beating me, father pushing me harder, father scolding me. 'Jace, are you sure? You couldn't save him, so maybe you want to save her.' He moved closer to me. 'It's fine Jace. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine.'

I took a deep breath and the visions disappeared. 'This has nothing to do with my father. I don't want to save her.' I need to save her. 'She should be helped, then she should go. That's it.'

Alec put his hand on me, mid-thigh. 'Okay, Jace.' Then he grabbed my arm, just below the wrist, which meant that he wasn't holding my hand, but he wasn't exactly holding my wrist, either. He leaded against me, until his head was pressed against the side of face. His breath tickled my ear, and when he spoke his teeth grazed my jaw. 'If you're sure about that, it's fine. We don't have to say anything else.' He moved his hand up higher on my leg. Suddenly, I was hyperaware of Alec. Where his hands and face were against me, it was like sparks going off. My blood was pounding in my chest, and I could feel it coursing under my skin. It was like it was trying to burst out of my veins. My finger started to throb and I untangled my hand from Alec's to look at it. I could almost see my veins bursting, pumping the blood to and from my hand. It was like there was a monster under my skin, trying to get free.

I tried to speak, demand an answer from Alec, but the blood in my ears was too loud, thundering, and I couldn't hear what I even said. 'Alec. What are you doing to me?' is what I'm pretty sure I got out. I needed to know why he summoned such a rage under my skin, and why nothing like this had ever happened before.

I must have said something to offend him, though, as he pulled away, and looked stricken and hurt again, like the time in my room. He stood up and turned to look out the window. I went to stand up and apologize or something, but I spun towards the door at the feeling of Church's presence. He meowed at Alec, and rushed passed me the moment he noticed the cat. He didn't say anything, which meant he was angry with me again. I sat back down on the piano bench and held my head in my hands. Why did I keep screwing things up between Alec and I? What sort of problem did I have that would do this to me?

I sighed, and after a bit, I noticed that I had begun playing the intro to a song who's name I'd long forgotten. Another one of Father's favorites, from the times we had gone to the Concert Hall in Idiris. We had hidden in the back and kept out faces out of view, which I'd never questioned. Father would do things like that. He'd tell me it was part of my training, hiding in a Concert Hall. Like all the times he'd leave for days at a time, and come back angrier with me. Never once did I question him.

I kept playing until I neared the end, when someone's presence returned me from cloud 9. 'Alec?' It was almost too much t hope for, that he had forgotten his anger so quickly.

'No,' Came the voice that quickened my heart in a way nothing else ever would. 'It's me, Clary.'

She came farther in, and I noticed Isabelle's clothes on her. I had half a mind to mention it. I stood up, pushing off the keys, making them clink. 'Our own Sleeping Beauty. Who finally kissed you awake?'

'Nobody. I woke up on my own.'

'Was there anyone with you?'

'Isabelle, but she went off to get someone- Hodge, I think. She told me to wait, but-"

'I should have warned her about your habit of never doing what you're told." I blinked at her, and the half of my mind won. 'Are those Isabelle's clothes? They look ridiculous on you." It seems that Clary brought out my nervous habit I hadn't seen in years of talking about everything and anything.

'I could point out that you burned my clothes."

'It was purely precautionary.' I closed the cover on the piano, hoping she wasn't too mad.' Come on. I'll take you to Hodge.'

We walked through the Institute, towards Hodge and the room where Mayrse gave me my name. I hardly noticed the murals on the wall, or the open doors to the unused rooms, but to Clary, they seemed to be pieces of art. Everything she eyed with an appreciation for the style and painting.

'Why does this place have so many bedrooms?' She asked finally. I had been hoping she'd ask, even if it was just to talk. 'I though it was a research institute.'

'This is the residential wing. We've pledged to offer safety and lodging to any Shadowhunter who requests it. We can house up to two hundred people here.'

'But most of these rooms are empty.'

'People come and go. Nobody stays here for long. Usually it's just us- Alec, Isabelle, Max, their parents- and me and Hodge.'

'Max?'

'You met the beauteous Isabelle? Alec is her elder brother. Max is the youngest, but he's overseas with his parents.'

'On vacation?'

'Not exactly.' I paused, thinking of the best way to explain this. If she was only human, or something of the sort, I shouldn't tell her too much. 'You can think of them as- as foreign diplomats, and this as an embassy, or sorts. Right now, they're in the Shadowhunter home country, working out some very delicate peace negotiations. They brought Max with them because he's so young.'

'Shadowhunter home country?' Clary sounded very confused. 'What's it called?'

'Idris.'

'I've never heard of it.'

'You wouldn't have.' I tried not to sound too exasperated with her. There were reasons she hasn't heard about it. 'Mundanes don't know about it. There are wardings- protective spells, up all over the borders. If you tried to cross into Idris, you'd simply find yourself transported instantly from one border to the next. You'd never know what happened.'

'So it's not on any maps?'

'Not mundie ones. For our purposes you can consider it a small country between Germany and France.'

'But there isn't anything between Germany and France. Except Switzerland.'

'Precisely.' I pointed out.

'I take it you've been there. To Idris, I mean.'

'I grew up there.' I tried to sound cold enough she'd get the message that I don't like to talk about it. Id already gone through my memories of my life with my father; I didn't need to go through them again. 'Most of us do. There are, of course, Shadowhunters al over the world. We have to be everywhere, because demonic activity is everywhere. But to a Shadowhunter, Idris is always 'home.'

'Like Mecca or Jerusalem.' Clary added thoughtfully. She seemed to be taking this rather well. 'So most of you are brought up there, and then when you grow up-'

'We're sent where we're needed.' I cut in, just to make sure she didn't' get into any 'growing up' stories. I really didn't want to talk about it. 'And there are a few, like Isabelle and Alec, who grow up away from the home country because that's where their parents are. With all the resources of the Institute here, with Hodge's training.' I stopped. We had reached the library too soon for my liking. 'This is the library.'

The doors were arches that were closed like always. Church was sitting in front of them like he was their guardian, but I knew better. He just didn't want me going in. He was spiteful like that.

'Church'. I nodded at him, hoping I wouldn't have to kick him to get him out of the way. He got up and scampered off, thankfully.

'Wait,' Clary paused, stopping. 'Alec and Isabelle ad Max, they're the only Shadowhunters your age that you know, that you spend time with?'

I froze my hand, inches from the door handle. 'Yes'. Well, I didn't really spent time with them, but I got what she meant.

'That must get kind of lonely.'

'I have everything I need,' I replied without hesitation. I had myself. That had always been enough. Now, I'm not so sure. I reached out again and pulled the door open and, not waiting for Clary to follow me, I walked in.