The ceiling of the training room looked different, or maybe Emily's point of view was changing. The monkey bars were still above her head, along with the ceiling lights and white ropes that clung to the top. The blue mat under her hadn't changed, and neither did the training weapons display case, the exercise equipment, or the weights. So why did she feel so… lost in the only place that she was ever comfortable in?
Oh, wait, because there were too many people here.
"Okay, first things first. We have to talk about Jonathan." Alec stood in front of the three of them – Emily, Chase, and Conan – in only a pair of shorts and black tennis shoes. Emily had distanced herself behind the Shadowhunter and werewolf who sat a few feet ahead of her, listening intently. They were both dressed like Alec, their bare backs shown in front of Emily's face when she looked towards them. Chase's was covered in marks, and the arrow scar was clearly visible on Conan's right shoulder.
She just dropped her head again, looking back to the ceiling. Her back was cool against the mat since only a sports bra covered the top half of her body. For training this morning she grabbed her mom's old yoga pants, just to have a feeling of her parents with her. It was frightening, even with Alec and Magnus around. The protective feeling the Institute had seemed to leave with her parents through the portal the night before. Even sleeping was difficult. Nightmares about Jonathan woke her every other hour in screams of terror. This was the first time her parents actually left when everyone was in danger, and she wasn't handling the pressure very well.
"I'm pretty sure that there is no way to actually kill him," Chase said with a hint of despair in his voice.
Alec sighed. "I realize that it seems difficult, but no one is truly immortal. If Magnus taught me anything throughout the years, it's that even the strongest Nephilim, Demons, and Downworlders can be killed."
"I'd believe that if Jonathan and Lilith actually stayed dead," Chase shot back. Emily glanced away from the ceiling long enough to see the tenseness in his shoulders as he leaned back on his hands. He might have tried to appear relaxed, but he was failing miserably. "But in case you haven't noticed, they're alive and running around while were sitting here chatting up about it."
"What do you suggest we do then, Einstein?" Conan spoke up for the first time and turned his head towards Chase. His black hair fell across his forehead and he pushed it back quickly.
"Go after them! That's all that we can do."
"We'd be slaughtered," Alec said from his position as the logical one.
"So we're supposed to just wait for news while Jocelyn is more than likely being tortured, Luke on the brink of death, and his parents," he pointed to Conan, "are more than likely holding on for their lives. Everyone knows that Jonathan has a temper, which he got from Lilith. One word and he'd break the werewolves' necks without a second thought. Jocelyn is more than likely safe, but you, Conan, should be in more of a hurry to find your family."
"I'm just being rational," Conan shot back as he jumped to his feet. Emily barely registered them as Chase hopped up as well, staring each other down. It was like showdown between a darker Hulk and the Flash with tattooed runes. The images just make Emily shake her head in disbelief. "You're trying to go on a suicide mission. I know that we are no match for Jonathan and Lilith."
Chase disagreed. "They had the element of surprise last time. That's the only reason it ended like that. We know what to expect, and going after them is the last thing they would expect us to do!"
A shadow loomed over Emily as she obliviously stared at the ceiling, blocking the light. Alec lowered himself beside her, sighing to himself as he stared at the arguing boys a few feet away. "Are they always like this?"
Emily shrugged while putting her hands behind her head. "Does it look like I care?"
Alec glanced down at her, his face as passive as always. "No, I guess not."
Emily's mind immediately drifted from the training room. She willed it to go to Idris, to think of her parents and their progress, but all she saw was Jonathan in the back of her mind. That's all that it ever seemed to be going to lately. It was like he was imprinted on the back of her eye lids. When she slept, when she was awake, when she was thinking, he was always there, doing the same thing every time. He was standing over her again, a sly smile on his face. His white blonde hair blew in the wind as he raised a sword above his head again ready to bring it down on top of her. And once again, she felt trapped, like she couldn't get away. The voice of her mother screamed in the background–
"You need to stop that," Alec said, pulling her out of her head.
She blinked suddenly back in the training room. In her momentary lapse of reality, Chase and Conan had somehow turned the argument into a fight, rolling on the floor as they grabbed at each other. Alec wasn't paying them any attention, but his eyes weren't on hers either. He was staring towards the door to their right, eyes glued to it. For a moment she thought that he was looking for Magnus, waiting for him to enter like he always did, glittery and smiling.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Emily said with as much conviction as she could. She slowly sat up, fixing the tight bun that her hair was being held together by.
Alec shook his head before looking back at her. His blue eyes always seemed more knowledgeable than others, like he was the brilliant one, the one who had all the ideas and advice. "You know what I'm talking about. He's gotten in your head, and you can't let that happen."
"It's not easy to keep him out," Emily admitted, dropping her head as she pulled her legs to her chest. "Uncle Alec, how did you all do it?"
"I'm not the best one to ask. Your parents are the ones that have the best experience when it comes to Jonathan. Jace more than Clary."
"I know that my dad killed him, but then Lilith brought him back and controlled him with her rune and blah, blah, blah, but that doesn't explain how he's back again."
"Hey! Stop it! You both are still recovering so don't be stupid," Alec yelled. His comment was directed at the idiots to her left. Chase had Conan in a headlock, much to Emily's demise. She at least wanted Conan to kick his ass, but that didn't happen as planned. "Chase, let him go."
Chase did as he asked, releasing Conan and jumping to his feet. He had a few claw marks on his chest that would fade fairly quickly as he backed up swiftly. Conan grabbed his own throat, choking and coughing uncontrollably as he tried to catch his breath.
Emily's mind immediately went to how it felt when Jonathan was choking her in the warehouse. That feeling of pain, lack of oxygen, and the pressure against her windpipe was one that was forever painted in her head. She'd never forget it. Her hand went to her throat, almost out of reflex, and felt the rawness that was still there. It was still red and raw from where that boot crushed her the day before. The iratze was making it fade quickly, but even in the mirror this morning Emily could still the faint red lines that reminded her of the reason her parents had to leave.
"You're doing it again," Alec said.
Emily's hand fell and she looked away from him. "I can't help it. Honestly, it's always in my mind."
"What's going on?" Chase asked as he and Conan approached them, sitting down. Chase looked relaxed, but Conan was giving him death glares every chance he could.
Emily sighed and stood up, the boy's eyes following her. "Look, I'm not really feeling like training. I'm just going to go. Don't wait for me at breakfast."
She didn't really know where she was heading, but just that her feet were taking her there swiftly. They were moving at a run, flying through the corridors and hallways, until they stopped in the room that actually might be able to help it. It was the room that her mother used when she was stressed.
Art Room was printed on the white, wooden door, and Emily stepped through quickly, shutting the door behind her and locking it. She had left her stele in the Training Room, so the physical lock would have to do. When she turned around, every thought from the Training Room to the work that Magnus and Michael were doing disappeared.
Her mother's paintings covered the walls, hanging from strings while some dried. Others were already framed. A few hung on the wall from nails while others looked ready for transport, laying on top of each other as they propped up against the wall. Her mother had spent so much time here painting away, but Emily never wondered what it was that intrigued her. In fact, she never really cared to look. This was the first time that she had been.
Two particular paintings caught her eye in the northern corner of the room. She side stepped the paint spots on the covered floor, dodging the buckets and blank canvases as she approached them.
The first one was of her father, Jace. He was in his younger days. Wings spread out from his back, white and glowing as he held two items in his hands. In his right was the Mortal Sword and in his left was the Mortal Cup. It was a similar picture to one she had seen before, of Raziel rising out of Lake Lyn. Clary obviously held Jace at very high standards. That wasn't what truly caught her eye about the painting. It was the smirk on her father's face that made it more real. And she felt a pang in her heart, realizing that he was no longer here. She couldn't just walk to his room for a much needed argument, and it was killing her!
The one next to it wasn't as appealing. Most of the picture was covered in black spots, and it dawned on Emily that this was the painting that Michael screwed up. All she saw was a jagged sword, black boots, and a dark sky. It obviously wasn't close to be done, but thanks to Michael, it never would be finished.
"What's going on with you?" Emily didn't have to turn from the painting to know who it was. Chase closed the door behind him as he walked in the room, shutting the door behind him. His footsteps had been silent, even against the protective paper that covered the floor. "I see that you found your mother's hobby."
Whether he was trying to be nice, rude, or sympathetic, Emily didn't know but just his voice was making her mad. "Chase, just get out."
"There's the Emily I know! I was hoping you weren't going to be that quiet, soft girl you were in the Training Room."
Emily swiveled and glared at him. He had fit an open, leather jacket over his torso, showing the lines of his abs as he kept it unzipped. The red marks on his chest had already fading and nearly nonexistant, leaving it smooth and creamy. "I wasn't being soft."
"Is this about your parents?"
Emily turned back to the paintings, looking at the one Jace in particular. "Look, I want to be alone–"
"Is she in here?"
Emily closed her eyes, willing to make the two boys just disappear. Maybe a black hole would suddenly form, taking them both away so she could have the time to herself that she desperately wanted. But knowing that it wouldn't work, she just slowly stood up and turned towards the door. Without so much as a hello, came Conan. Like Chase, he had slipped an open flannel over his chest, but both boys seemed confused as to what buttons and zippers were supposed to do.
"Can't the two of you just get out?" Conan and Chase both glanced at each other, genuinely confused. It only fueled her even more. "Look, my parents are gone to Idris to try to convince a condescending, regretful, idiotic race of Shadowhunters known as the Clave that the return of the most dangerous threat to the invisible world is back. My grandparents are taken by a psychopath who is more than likely slashing them with whips, trying to get information out of them. And I'm stuck here like a child who can't handle the outside world. The last thing I want, if I have to be stuck here, is to have you two arguing about what's worse! Just get out!"
Chase, after what felt like hours of silence and confused stares, cleared his throat and backed towards the door. "I only wanted to help."
"You've never wanted to help," Emily muttered with exhaustion as she turned her back to him. "Just leave."
Without another word, he was gone, but Conan remained. Emily was just staring straight ahead, not even thinking, as his arms came around her. It had been so long, so long, since someone held her and she found herself leaning into him as he pulled her back to his front, even though she was fuming with rage and confusion.
"Emily, you can be honest with me," Conan whispered in her ear. She felt his breath against her left ear and closed her eyes, let out a deep sigh. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"
"You've been saying it since we were five." She smiled at the thought. Conan was that awkward five years old, but he was always her awkward kid. He got that from Simon when Maia would leave him with the vampire. She and Jordan had constant calls from Luke or other orders, and Simon, being Simon, was always too preoccupied with video games to do any real vampire business. So it was only fitting that he became the babysitter, making Conan as socially awkward and quiet as he could be.
"Then how come you don't believe it?" He turned her in his arms, and Emily responded like she did when they were dating. One of her arms reached up and wrapped around his neck, while the other pressed against his chest, feeling the hardened muscle that shivered under her touch. "Emily, don't play games. Answer me."
She dropped her eyes to his chest, not looking up at him. "I don't know. It's always been easier to keep everything inside than to explain what your feeling, because most of the time, no one even understands."
"But I do–"
Emily shoved him away with both hands, cutting him off. He stumbled back, tripping over a paintbrush. "No you don't. You don't know what it's like to be the daughter of Jace and Clary. I have expectations, and when I don't meet those expectations… bad things start to happen."
"None of this is your fault," he immediately stated. He put everything into that one sentence, like he could convince her that it was true. Emily was beyond convincing though. If she could've taken Jonathan the first time, they never would've lost the others. "Emily, you need to stop thinking that you could've stopped this. I know you want to, but you can't protect all of us. You're only responsible for yourself. As for Jonathan, just get your mind off of it."
Get your mind off of it. It was like something clicked in her brain the moment he said it. She looked up at him, lips parted as she took him in. He was obviously confused, even worried, but Emily smiled internally when his eyes drifted down her body, considering she still didn't have a shirt on. Then, the idea hit her.
"Come with me," was all she said as she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room.
"She's insane!" Chase screamed as he stormed into the library. Emily's attitude was really starting to get on his nerves, to the point he just wanted to put his fist through a window. He was trying, really trying, to make things work between them and tried to cooperate, but it was impossible. The girl was beyond reasoning with!
Magnus and Michael looked up from their spot on the couch as he stormed in. Both had books on their laps, quiet piano music playing in the background. It was probably something that Jace had recorded at some point. Magnus had his usual glitter and black clothing while Michael was in a tank top that clung to his body and grey sweatpants. How could he be so muscular, but not be able to fight to save his life? Chase didn't get it.
"What did you do?" Magnus asked. He set the book down on the table in front of him, now preoccupied. Michael barely acknowledged Chase's existence as he went back to reading his stupid book. "Kill her demon again?"
"This isn't a joke Magnus!" Chase flew into one of the rocking chairs, pulling at his hair in frustration. "I mean, what do I have to do to get on her good side? She acts like I'm the physical form of cancer."
"Better than herpes," Michael mumbled as he flipped another page of his book.
"Debatable," Magnus said as he rose to his feet. He waved for Chase to follow him without a word, moving to the back of the Institute towards the fire place. Michael glared at Chase as he walked past, but he figured it was best not to provoke Emily's brother to. Having one Herondale child that hated him was bad enough. At least Michael didn't have a legitimate reason. Magnus suddenly stopped by the fireplace. There were windows on either side of the frame, rising up the two story ceiling. Above it was a huge painting of Raziel, one that looked new and was more than likely painted by Clarissa herself. Or Jocelyn, now that he was thinking about it. "Explain," Magnus demanded as he leaned against the wall next to one of the windows, quickly bringing Chase out of his thoughts.
Chase nodded, looking down to his shoes. Suddenly, he didn't really think it was a good idea to be confiding in Magnus, but the warlock was the only chance he had. "In short, uh, she's going crazy. Something bad is eating at her head and she's not letting anyone close enough to her to help. Like this morning, she stormed out of the training room for no reason."
Magnus rolled his eyes. "I doubt that's all that's going on. You've provoked her somehow, and she got upset, like always. You just need to learn to keep your mouth shut. I know you've had a bad past with her, but–"
"Magnus, I'm being serious." Chase made sure his voice had no sign of joke or sarcasm. Magnus seemed to catch on quickly, straightening up against the wall. "Something is eating at her, from the inside. It's ripping her apart."
"She can handle herself."
"You didn't see her face."
"But you don't know her like we do!" Magnus snapped. His cool, collected feature faded for a moment, and Chase actually took a step back. With a sigh, Magnus closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall behind him. "Emily and Michael are different from other Shadowhunters. Everyone knows that. Michael is gifted with runes, like his mother, among other aspects of healing and even some spells, but do you know what Emily is gifted with?"
"Nut shots and breaking arms?"
"Anticipation."
Chase was more than confused by this. "Uh, what?"
Magnus turned, looking out the window like he was looking into the past. "Emily's gift is the one to anticipate. She knows what her opponent will do before they even do it, but she isn't conscious of the fact that she's doing it. Yes, she is strong, fast, everything that Jace was when he was a young Shadowhunter. But nobody moves like Emily does. When a demon strikes, she's moving out of the way before it even raises its spiny tail or clawed fingers because she knows where they're going to hit. They don't even realize it, but she can read them like an open book."
"Being able to read people hardly seems like a gift," said Chase.
"It's not reading people that she's good at, but that's what scares her."
Chase sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, Magnus, I came to you for help but all you're doing is confusing me even more."
"Emily can read the movements, the actions, but not the thought processes, the motivation, the reasons that people do things. I can tell that it bothers her, that it makes it hard for her to believe someone when they speak. What makes it worse is the fact that she doesn't even understand her own power, and that's why it's so hard for her to trust. She's always cared for fighting because she understands the motions of it, but not the reasons. And when it comes to you and Conan, she doesn't understand why you act like you do. You're implications confuse her."
"Confuse her?" Chase's voice rose and Magnus quickly hushed him. He dropped his voice, although he felt like screaming his head off. "She's the most confusing girl I've ever met and you say it's my fault?" Magnus merely nodded. "Well how do I fix that?"
"You say that she's got something bothering her, messing with her head?" This time, Chase nodded. "Find out what it is. Get her to open up to you, and that's your way in."
Chase felt like ripping his hair out at this point. Magnus was being no help whatsoever! "Mags, I already figured that out. It's the process of getting her to talk to me without wanting to kill me. That's not as easy as it looks." Especially with everything he had on his mind at this point.
Magnus was quiet for a while, and the silence was killing Chase! Here he was, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Magnus played with a strand of his hair and stared out the window. How the hell did he even get to this point? Having feelings for Emily was the most annoying, frustrating, complicated, impossible situation on the planet. Not to mention that they were feelings that he didn't even understand. Sometimes, he wondered if they were even feelings at all or if he was just messing with himself. The last thing in the world he wanted was Emily, and he'd thought that for years. But the past few weeks, even before this mess had started, things had started to change. So here he was, seeking advice from and ancient warlock who had sparkles in his hair and bright red lip stick.
If only my family could see me now, Chase thought to himself. They'd be shocked to say the least. Not only that, but extremely disappointed in him...
"If you really want to help Emily, to get her to accept you and actually talk to you–" he broke off for a moment, shaking his head like couldn't believe what he was about to say, "then you have to do what Jace did."
"What in the Angel's name are you talking about?"
Magnus turned his mouth up in a crooked smile. "The Greenhouse on the top floor. Take her there, and she'll tell you want you want to know. But, I have to warn you that you might not like what you hear."
"Either way, I have to do it."