Alright, I know this is really short, but I wanted to get this chapter off my chest before I lost my train of thought.

And, not forgetting, the things that belong to Cassandra Clare, Sir Arthur Connan Doyle and Pheonix Wright: Ace Attorney, belong to the proper people. Give them respect.

The walk was long an extremely uncomfortable. At least, it was for the first ten minuets, and then Simon started to whistle. Then it was just annoying.

After I had announced that that kid's dad had killed my father, Clary got the pitying look in her eyes that I hate. She reached out for my arm, and for some reason, I let her touch me. Only for a second, before I walked out, but still. I don't like it when people touch me or even are close to me, but Clary touch brings a calm to me I haven't felt in a while.

Usually, my heart beats silently and steady, and my nerves are steel. But, when Clary's around, my heart goes haywire and beats so quickly and loudly, I can hear it rushing in my ears. My nerves too, go all crazy. I get a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I haven't eaten in weeks, and I feel feverish. But, the things she does to my head are the worst, and best. My mind, most of the time, is a horrible place to be, and I try to distract myself from thinking when I can. If I don't, I end up pondering the best way to kill another Shadowhunter, or Alec, or Isabelle, or the destruction of people in general. And, if I'm in a bad mood, it gets worse. But, I'm outside the Institute, and around humans, it's unbearable. It's like a thousand people speaking at once, and it just gives me an enormous headache, along with the almost irrepressible urge to kill and lay ruin. The kinship I feel towards demons, and the Downworlders is so disgusting; I'm nothing like them. But, I just can't help feel that spark of family whenever I'm near.
Sometimes, I just want to end it all; get rid of the thoughts and pain I feel everyday, the aversion to sunlight, the pain I get when I use a stele or touch a Seraph blade, the strange changes and feeling I've been getting lately. The way my emotions don't affect me. Surprise, excitement, happiness; nothing. I don't get nervous, I don't trust anyone, feel joy unless I'm killing something. I only get angry. And if I do feel something, it's faded, diminished. Like I'm just going through the actions. It's like I'm dead, tormented by the feelings I had when I was alive.

But, most of all, the dreams. They haunt me for days afterwards. Dreams of killing, and dark desires I've never though I'd have. But, once I dream about it, it doesn't leave. Like a parasite, they latch on to my thoughts and spread their darkness though me. Hodge made me once a mixture that made them go away, but it didn't help for long. I can't get myself straight. I can't ask anyone; as much as I don't know if this is normal, I know it isn't something you'd just talk about.

But Clary, Clary brings my mind to a halt. She stops the insane feelings and sick thoughts. She settles me, in some ways. In other ways I become slower, my reactions and thoughts sluggish to what they can be. My heart goes wild and my nerves fire off randomly. And my head: it's like my thoughts change from 'Kill, death, destroy' to 'Clary Clary Clary'. I don't know how she does it. Like when she jumped though the Portal, my thoughts weren't I have to tell the Clave about this. It was CLARY! Pleasedon'tbehurtpleasedon'tbehurtpleasedon'tbehurt. Thinking about her first, and not me or my other Shadowhunters, may get me killed one day, but for now, I'm fine with it.

She makes me feel… Alive.

After about three minuets of Simon whistling, I stopped and clenched my fists. 'Can't you stop?' I asked through gritted teeth. 'It's hard to listen for things when your whistling is the only thing I can hear.'

Simon stopped. He looked at me and narrowed his eyes. 'Repeat that.'

'What?' I demanded. 'Like hell I'll repeat that.'

He shook his head. 'No, no, I mean, said it again. It sounded like… can you just repeat it please?'

'Simon.' Clary murmured quietly. 'I don't think now's the time.'

'Can't you stop? It's hard to listen for things when your whistling is the only thing I can hear.' I paused to look at him. 'Good now?'

He nodded. 'Now say Jonathan Christopher.'

'What for?' I yelled. The silent street seemed to shake with my voice as it rang out. 'Do you like me repeating my father's killer's son's name?' I turned around and spat on the ground. 'Sick bastard.'

'But it's your name too, isn't it?'

I turned back to him. 'What? How did you know that?'

He shrugged. 'You looked surprised and slightly sick when the guy said his name. Jace could be short for Jonathan I guess.'

Clary and I both just stood there, staring at him. 'Simon,' Clary said,' Have you been playing Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney again? You always get like this when you play that game.'

'Well, yes, I have.' Simon agreed,' But that isn't the point right now. I've noticed something about the way you talk, Jace. It sounds like the way the Jonathan guy talks. So, can you please say "Jonathan Christopher" so we can put my mind at ease?'

Clary rolled her eyes, and gave me small smile. 'Fine, fine,' I snapped. 'Jonathan Christopher.'

Simon nodded. 'Just like I thought.'

'What?' Clary asked

'The way Jace says his name is the same way Jonathan say it. They both go up a little at the 'Thin" and pause a bit after the Jonathan. And, you guys both kinda spit out the "Chris".' He shrugged. 'It's just something I noticed. Along with other words you said the same.'

Clary and I both started at him. I liked to think of myself as observant, but studying speech patterns? That was just weird.

'What?' He asked, looking from Clary to me, then back to Clary. 'I like to learn Voice Actors' voices, so I noticed things like now.'

'Simon,' Clary shook her head. 'You need to stop playing so many games.'

'But why would my voice do that?' I ask. 'We've never met before.'

'Well,' Simon pondered. 'It could be because you've both been around someone who said it like that: someone who said it all the time. Your mother? Maybe your fathers were friends?'

'Simon!' Clary whispered.

'My mother is dead.' I said coldy. 'And I hope you aren't suggesting that my father was friends with the man who killed him.'

Simon's eyes widened. I guess he didn't think that one through. 'No, I didn't mean that, but it makes the most sense.'

'No it doesn't.' I cut in before he could say another word. I started to walk away, suddenly Clary called me back.

'Wait, Jace!' She grabbed my arm, but this time I ripped it away.

'Don't Clary. You can't fix this, and now you're telling me that I'm linked to my father's killer? Just… Just don't.'

She tried to stay strong in the face of my cutting words, but her eyes held nervousness. 'No, I don't think Simon meant it like that. But…'

'What?'

'The way you walk.' She continued. 'It's like how Jonathan walked out of Luke's house. And the way you were standing there before. It eerie how much it looks alike.'

I threw up my hands. 'Well, we're all bloody Sherlock Holmes, aren't we now?'

Clary put her hands on her hips. 'I'm an artist, Jace. I'm suppose to notice small details.'

'Fine, then. I'm connected to him somehow. Happy? Can we just go back now? It's getting dark, and I shouldn't have to tell you what lurks in the dark.'

She nodded and bit her lip. 'But why would you be similar like that? It doesn't make sense.'

Simon raised his hand. 'Well, it could be from your training. Didn't you say you had to go through a lot of training, Jace? You could have learnt to stand like that as a training thing.'

'Yeah, but I learnt stance from my father when I was very young. How I stand let's me jump in any direction quickly, and lowers my center of gravity. The one that most Shadowhunters have is too heavy-footed. Their knees aren't bent enough, and they have their back too straight.' I stopped, realizing what I had just said.

'The plot thickens.' Simon muttered.

I clenched my hands again, and all the stress of the day started to creep up on me. 'Let's just go.'

And I stalked off with out waiting for them, almost running, like I could run off of the frightening reality that was being revealed to me.

Ahhhhhhuuuuugmmmmmmm... Sorry, yawn. Don't forget to comment.