Emily sat outside of the infirmary doors, wishing that Chase would show up already. The longer she sat there, the longer he and her father stayed inside. It was taking all her strength not to burst through those doors. Every fiber in her body wanted her to kick it down and drag Chase out, away from Jace, away from his mother. He had suffered enough and didn't need and interrogation from her father on top of everything else.
She worried about him, especially now. Isabelle was the last person that Emily expected to lash out at him. She just witnessed the woman who loved Chase more than anyone else try to kill him. She had her whip around his throat! If anything, Emily finally had proof. That's what love did to people. It makes people do stupid things and hurt those that care about them. She'd seen it in the past, over and over again. Jace had hurt Alec, Izzy, and especially Clary on more than one occasion to keep them safe. Now, Isabelle just hurt Chase because of her pain of losing Simon. Emily couldn't help but think that if love didn't exist, none of these things would be happening. Love and hate were the feelings that caused disasters, so why did people insist of having those feelings in her life?
Emily's mind drifted back to the conversation with her mother in her bedroom, when they were looking out at Chase:
"It's complicated," Clary admitted. "That was after Simon told me how he felt when he caught Jace and I kissing. Jace played it off, hurting me. I hurt Simon for having feelings for Jace. In fact, everyone was hurting at one point because of the feelings that your father and I shared. My mother, Luke, Izzy, Robert, everyone. Emily, letting people in opens you up to getting hurt. And I know how you are. You close yourself off to stop the pain from starting in the first place."
Why did people have to get hurt? It was like they went hand and hand – love is pain. She had heard Simon say that on countless occasions, and never really understood what he meant. Now, things were starting to get in perspective, and that scared her. She knew that she was coming to care for Chase, just like she cared for Conan, but she wasn't going to let herself get hurt. In fact, she refused.
"Are you going to sit out here all day?"
Emily lifted her head from her knees to see Conan himself standing a few feet away. He had a duffle bag over his shoulder, packed full of stuff. His lumberjack clothing was back on, making him look big and strong. She couldn't read the expression on his face. It wasn't happy, but it wasn't sad. He didn't look angry, hurt, or even upset. He was just… blank.
"Going somewhere?" she asked, avoiding his question and his eyes.
He glanced over his shoulder, shrugged, and dropped the bag to the floor. "I'm heading back to my parents' house. I can't stay here."
"What?" Why?"
"I'm not living in the same place as the two-faced dick in there," he said bluntly, tilting his chin to the infirmary. "He made a deal with Leviathan, and I'm not going to get caught in the crossfire when his demon pals find out he spilled the beans."
"So you're just going to leave?" Emily scrambled to her feet.
Conan sighed and leaned back against the wall. Emily noticed the circles under his eyes finally, realizing that he must have been awake all night as he wondered around the street. She wondered what he was really up to last night, considering it shouldn't have taken almost fourteen hours to return from getting information. And he shouldn't have been that tired from just talking to people, from getting information. His looks made it seem like he had been through a civil war, not out chatting the night away.
"Leaving seems like the only thing I can do," he said with an exasperated breath. "Everyone seems to feel sorry for him. Granted, Isabelle just tried to kill him but even after everything he's done, he's not going to be punished like he should. He should be out on the street! Magnus is still fonder of him than he will ever be of me. And even when I showed up with the picture and the proof of Leviathan's connection to Lilith and to Chase, Jace still hates me more than anyone else in this bloody church. Leaving is the best thing for me because I obviously don't belong here."
"That's not true," she argued. He grabbed his bag, trying to storm past her but she jumped in front of him. "Conan, please don't go. You could get hurt out there on your own."
When he looked down at her, she finally realized how upset he really was. His brown eyes were full of anger and frustration. "You've made it pretty obvious how you feel about me Emily. And pretty obvious how you feel about Chase too."
Emily's eyes widened. "This has nothing to do with how I feel about either of you!"
"It has everything to do with that!" he shot back none too quietly. He dropped his bag to the floor once again, and seemed to realize that he lost his temper and screamed, because he ended up pinching the bridge of his nose and leaned back against the wall. "I'm not going to be your pretty little boy toy that you only use when you want a distraction, because you've found a new distraction making me practically invisible. You'll never even realize I'm gone."
"That's not true–"
"Be honest with me," Conan said suddenly. "For once, don't beat around the bush and answer my question straight up, okay?"
This wasn't something that she really wanted to talk about now. There were so many questions he could bring up at this point, and all Emily could do was nod to him, even if she just wanted him to keep his mouth shut.
It was at that moment that the door opened behind them, Jace and Chase emerging from the infirmary. A blast of cool air hit Emily's back as she turned, relieved to see that they were both alive and shockingly comfortable around each other. Their eyes went back and forth between Conan and Emily, suspicion in both sets of irises.
"Whatever happens, don't kill each other," Jace said as he slipped past his daughter. She saw him look back once, more than likely glaring at the boys, before he disappeared around the corner and left the three of them alone. Thank the Angel he just decided to leave. She couldn't handle her dad along with two emotional teenagers.
"What's Scooby doing out here?" Chase stepped up by Emily, staring at Conan who was casually leaning against the wall. To anyone else, he would've appeared to be relaxed but Emily knew better.
"I was just asking Emily a question," Conan said calmly. "And I never got the chance before you intruded, as always."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You're always stepping in where you're not needed," Conan clarified. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to Emily privately."
Emily felt like this couldn't have been getting any worse. Conan and Chase hated each other, more than anything, and she wasn't in the mood to keep them separated in a tussle. The situation was ridiculous when she thought about it. All of this was because of their fucking feelings. If they could just keep them intact, they wouldn't be having this conversation.
"Talk away, because I'm not leaving you alone with her." Emily glanced over at Chase at that comment, but he wasn't even paying her a lick of attention. He was having a very angry, silent conversation with Conan instead.
Conan stepped up to Chase, having a staring contest of death. Chase was slightly taller than Conan, but what the werewolf lacked in height, he always made up for in muscles and strength. "You don't want to start with me, you little back-stabber," Conan said. "Emily deserves someone better than a guy that betrays her family, his own kind."
"Like a Fleabag that's scared of his own shadow?" Chase shot back with malice. She couldn't help but notice that Chase chose not to deny what Conan said. "At least I don't run away when things get tough. You never would've been able to go through what I've dealt with for the last four years."
"I never would've been dumb enough to get myself in the situation. But you know what they say. You can't fix stupid."
Chase clenched his fists as Conan growled at him and Emily had finally had enough. "Could you two be any more immature?" She pushed between the two guys, one hand on each of their chests and shoved them away. Their backs hit opposite walls in the hallway, but neither broke eye contact. "Just stop."
Conan shook his head, reaching down to grab his bag. "I'll be at my parents' house if you want to talk. Don't bring Judas with you if you come." With that, he was gone before Emily could say anything to keep him there.
As he walked away, she realized just how bad things were really getting. She just watched her best friend walk away from her, and for some reason she felt like nothing she said could get him to forgive her.
"This is for lunch?" Jace complained as he took a spot at the bar. He poked at the food, which looked like some kind of soup but had some strange noodles floating around in it. "Is it safe?"
Isabelle glared at him over her own bowl, but just rolled her eyes. It didn't take much from Jace to annoy Izzy, never had taken much either. "You're wife made it, so calm down. I didn't touch anything other than my own spoon."
That was enough for Jace, and he grabbed a spoon and started shoving the soup into his mouth. He didn't know what it was, but it tasted just like chicken broth with noodles and bits of chicken in it. Maybe that's actually what it was? He just shrugged and ate like it was his last meal.
Clary entered the kitchen when he and Isabelle were halfway through with the soup, not saying a word as she grabbed a cup of coffee. Her feet brought her to stand on the opposite side of Jace, her hand on his shoulder. Just that simple touch relaxed him, the tenseness in his shoulders fading. It was peaceful for once, with the three of them lost in their thoughts and their food or beverages. There were no calls from the Clave, no horrible things to deal with, and no need to search through books for hours on end to get information. Jace knew that they only had three days to prepare for whatever his band of misfits were up against, and his whole mind was on that one thing: What could he do to keep his family safe?
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Isabelle slammed her spoon down on the table. "Why didn't you two stop me?" She glared the wide eyes of her capanions, Clary more shocked than Jace.
Jace looked up at his wife, then back to his adopted sister. "Excuse me?"
"Were you just going to let me kill him?" Isabelle demanded. "Chase is my family, and you were just going to let me strangle him. I – I can't believe that I did that."
What was happening? Jace wondered as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. Clary moved to Isabelle's side, hugging the woman as silent tears streamed down Izzy's beautiful face. Awkward didn't even begin to describe the situation from Jace's point of view. He didn't know what to do with his hands or what to say so he just went back to stuffing his face, ignoring the girls.
"Izzy, you were shocked and upset. Nobody blames you for what happened. Even Chase will understand that."
"He's a liar," Jace said without thinking. Sometimes, he just had to say what's on his mind, so he kept it going. "You shouldn't be so upset about this."
A hand slapped him in the back of his head, spitting his soup out as his spoon fell from his hands. Drops landed on the table as the spoon slid across the counter top. Clary glared at him as he looked up at her with a hurt expression. "Don't give me that look. If you're not going to help, don't talk."
"How did we never see that?" Isabelle asked. Her hand gripped Clary's as she gave the weepy woman all her attention. Jace felt a bit of jealousy at the fact that Clary was ignoring him and focusing on Isabelle, but he knew that it was just him being childish. They were parabatia, and supposed to be there for each other, but Angel, he hated this.
Clary sighed, rubbing Isabelle's hair. "He's a clever kid. We can't blame him for this."
"Yes we can!" Jace yelled.
"No we can't!" Clary snapped. "Jace, what would you do if it was Robert who was killed, and Maryse and Isabelle taken? You'd do anything to get them back, and that's all Chase was doing."
Jace frowned, angry with Clary for the first time in a long time. "You forget that he's the reason that this is all happening. Emily said that he opened the pyxis, releasing Leviathan. Chase did this to his own family."
Clary shook her head. "It wasn't intentional. You've hurt all of us unintentionally, so you have no room to talk Jonathan Herondale."
That hurt, really hurt. When Clary used his real name, Jace knew that she was seriously pissed off and angry with him. He should've apologized, said he was sorry and that he didn't mean it, but he couldn't. He knew that Chase was like, and wasn't apologizing for telling the truth.
But his phone buzzed on the table before the three, showing a text from the Inquisitor. Jace picked up the phone, scanning through the message. "The Clave members will be here shortly. Has Michael and Brother Matthew set everything up for the funeral?"
Clary nodded. Her gaze shot back to Izzy who was wiping her eyes. Some of her make-up had started to smear. "Yes," his wife answered. "It didn't take long and Brother Matthew has already left, leaving everything in Michael's care."
Izzy sighed, pulling away from Clary. "Do you think Chase is going to want to be there?"
Jace and Clary exchanged glanced, but neither really knew the answer. After their talk in the infirmary, Chase and Emily both went to their rooms and refused to speak to anyone. Emily's room was even locked with runes and sound proof, but Chase was just ignoring the world.
"I'll tell him about it," Jace said. "But there are no guarantees that he'll be there."
The funeral that afternoon was beautiful, despite the sadness and silence coming from all the Shadowhunters. Emily refused to go and watched from her bedroom window as her family burned the body of Grace Highsmith, letting her go to a better place.
That could've been anybody, any one of them rising up as smoke and turning into ash. Emily had heard of deaths across the world, but never actually experienced it. Other than Robert and Maryse, she never went to a funeral. Living with Jace and Clary as parents and having extra powers due to Angel's blood made it easier to stay alive, despite the greater demons that were running around nowadays. The thought never crossed her mind that one of her family members could've been burning in that wooden coffin as the others grieved. Hell, she could've been in that damned box, and she suddenly realized how dangerous things were really getting.
The image of Jace lying in that box made her shiver from her spot on the windowsill. Sure, she was a pessimist but even then, her parents always seemed invincible, like they would never die. After everything they've been through, a lot of other Shadowhunters thought the same thing. But Lilith was getting bolder, more dangerous and if they weren't careful, they could end up at their own funeral.
That's the last thing Emily wanted to happen.
Emily watched as individuals walked up to the fire, tossing flowers and trinkets into the flames. She didn't recognize many of them. Clary, Jace, Michael, Isabelle, and Magnus were the only five in white that she even knew. Others had to be Clave members that knew the Highsmith family before all this happened. Emily still didn't feel comfortable having them around though, considering they all still had mixed feelings about her parents. She could see a few dirty looks shot towards her father even from her spot on the third floor, but knew better than to go and speak her mind to them. Her mother taught her to keep her mouth shut at least.
Only one person was missing that should've been there. Chase's absence was making her uneasy. He wasn't even at his own mother's funeral, which was dishonorable for a Shadowhunter. Luke went to Valentine's funeral, so why couldn't Chase be at Grace's funeral? All the work that he did the past four years was for her, and Emily was determined to figure out what was going on in his head. She had to know, hated the secrets and confusion, and dammit, she was getting to the bottom of this right now.
When she reached his door that was just down the hall, she stopped herself from barging in. Even worse, she actually looked over herself to make sure she looked okay. Say what? Why did she–
There was a thud and Emily jumped at the sound coming from Chase's room. "Dammit! Fucking shit!" and many other curse words were dropped as Emily pushed Chase's door open, worried about what she might see.
Naturally, the first thing she noticed was that his shirt was missing, once again. She came to the conclusion that he had to have hot flashes, but it was the summer so it was kind of logical, but still wasn't at the same time. His knuckles were bleeding as he grabbed the lamp by his table, ripped the cord out of the wall, and tossed it at his window none too kindly.
"Chase!" Emily screamed as the lamp broke through the glass and fell to the depths of the front lawn. He didn't even register her as he then grabbed the remote to his stereo and threw it at his mirror, cracking it like a spider web and breaking the remote in half. She charged in, hurdling over his bed with Shadowhunter grace as he reached for the whole bedside table this time. "Chase, stop it." She wrapped her arms around him and felt him shaking due to whatever emotions he was feeling. Her hands grabbed his biceps, trying to restrain him. "Chase, put the table down."
Reluctantly, he dropped it, and it tumbled to the floor and landed sideways, the tissues and other objects falling to the carpet. He shook her off, just to spread his hands out as he pressed them against the wall, shaking uncontrollably. "Emily, get away from me."
Refusal came through before her voice as she tightened her arms around his bare stomach, feeling his pulse even down by his stomach. "Not on your life."
They were silent for a long time, Emily just holding him as his shaking slowly faded until he was just standing with his head against the wall. So many questions flooded her mind, but she couldn't ask them, not now. She might have wanted to know what was going on in his head, but she couldn't help but think that it wasn't something that she really needed to know. Whatever was going on his Chase's head was worse than she intentionally thought, and she didn't even know how to start a conversation at this point. Not to mention that the warmth of his back against her cheek wasn't exactly something she was complaining about. She could feel the heat of him forcing its way through her tank top, warming her insides.
His hand eventually wrapped around hers, pulling it from his waist. "Will you stay with me?" he asked as he turned around to face her. His voice was even, but a slightly broken tone came through. "I can't go down to that funeral and I really don't want to be alone right now."
Emily brushed a hair out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ear. "It's your mother. You should be at that funeral, not stuck in here sulking."
"She wouldn't want me there." There was so much pain in his voice, in his eyes, even in his posture. This was worse than all the times that Emily had actually caused him pain, physical pain, because this was mental and she didn't have a clue how to help or even understand...
There were so many things that Emily wanted to say, but nothing would come to her mind. So instead, she just grabbed Chase hand and slowly pulled him to the bed, where the sheets were rumpled. He was silent, watching her every move as she pulled him down with her on the mattress.
He suddenly took control, and pulled Emily into him. Her back hit his front as he tightened his grip around her waist like his life depended on it. His body length was perfect and wrapped around hers with a security she had never felt before. It was indescribable, just being this close to him was intoxicating, even in his state of worry and sadness. He always smelled of the ocean, where his hands were rough like sand but the rest of his body as smooth as calmed water. Her finger traced the sight rune on the back of his hand, the eye perfect and dark like a tattoo. They didn't even know what to say, and stayed silent for a long time, just tracing each other's runes and scars that marked them as the angel's children. Every once in a while, Chase would lean down and kiss Emily on the shoulder, making her shiver deliciously, but he never tried anything else.
"Can I ask you something about this?" He touched the star shaped mark on her shoulder, kissing it softly with his lips. She just nodded and leaned back against his shoulder. "Are you proud to be a Herondale?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
She felt him shrug. "My mother told me stories when I was little, about the battle that Clary and Jace had with Valentine. She seemed to think of them as heroes, you know. They saved the world in her eyes. But my dad wasn't so excited about the idea. He hated your parents, thought that the world would be better off without them."
Emily twisted her head, looking up at him through her lashes. He had set himself up on his elbow, so he was looking down at her but all his attention was on her star mark, the mark that had traced down since the time of William Herondale. That was a story for a different day, one that Tessa had shared with her many times. For a split second, Emily wished that Tessa and Jem were here. They might be able to help in a crazy way, but they've been off the grid for over a year. No one knew where they disappeared to, and according to Jace, that happened all the time. They were like wild teenagers, traveling the world without a care.
Emily shifted in his arms, lying on her back as he kept a protective hand on her stomach, under her tank top. His hands were huge, splaying across her whole abdomen. It made her feel so small. "What do you think?" she asked as she played with a strand of hair by his ear.
He pulled his lip between his teeth, biting down on it before he released it again. "I'm glad all that happened. I'm glad Valentine caused all that trouble, made Clary and Jace the way they are. I'm glad they fell in love. And I'm glad that they had you more than anything."
"You're getting cheesy again," Emily teased. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. At least now she could tell when he was actually happy. When his dimples stayed hidden, she knew that he was still upset. "Are you sure that you don't want to go to the funeral?"
He shook his head, dropping it to her shoulder. His cheek brushed hers, and it was all she could to stop from kissing him. "I can't. I told you, my mom wouldn't want me there."
"I don't believe you."
"You've never seen her look at me when she was alive. Last time I saw her, I was as terrifying as Agramon himself in her eyes. I'm not her son anymore."
"Then who are you, exactly?" He pulled back at her question, and Emily cupped his cheeks in her hands. Having him between her fingers seemed surreal. How could these feelings have occurred in such a short amount of time? In the matter of a weak, she went from hating him to… whatever this was. She didn't even know, but she knew that she never wanted it to stop.
His forehead pressed against hers first, before his lips touched her own, adding more and more pressure. Her arms wrapped around his neck without the need of a thought process, and she kissed him back with everything she had. Even through the kiss, through the way his lips moved against hers in a slow pattern, she could still feel he was in pain and every move was filled with worry. If only she could take the pain away, all the hatred that he held for himself. It was moments like this, with her eyes closed and his body over hers that she realized how damaged he really was. When she looked at him, all she saw was beauty. But when she closed her eyes and really felt him, she felt the emotions too: the anger, the hatred, the frustration. It was marvelous to her how he was so different than what she first thought. A week ago, he was just the angry kid that her dad hated. What was he to her now?
He shifted on the bed until he was hovering over her, but not crushing her. Their lips never separated as his body came to cover hers completely, the skin sliding together. He pushed her tank top up more, their stomachs touching as he leaned back down to feel all around her. She couldn't stop her hands from roaming his body, down his back, past his shoulders, feeling his biceps. He was so big, but so small at the same time. His own hands followed patterns on her skin, touching her everywhere that he clothes didn't cover but he never made a move to remove the obstacles. He seemed content with just having her here, and Emily didn't even know what to think about that, how to go about reacting to it. Why did it have to be so confusing and contradictory?
Everything about him was contradictory, now that she really thought about it. He was always rude, mean, and inconsiderate but yet he was still kind, caring, and even loving at the particular moment. He was a Highsmith, and yet, still a Lewis. He was a loyal Shadowhunter, but made dealings with the devil. And he was like a killer shark, but now in her arms, he felt like nothing but a teddy bear.
"Do you really want to know who I am? Who I want to be?" he asked against her lips, kissing the corner of her mouth before he pulled away. The taste of honey and Chase lingered on her lips as his hand played with the skin above her shorts, tracing it teasingly.
She answered with a shaky voice, her light green orbs locking with his dark green ones. "I do."
He looked down at her, scanning his whole body with his eyes. From her chest, her stomach, down to her feet and back up until his eyes met hers again. "I'd like to be yours."
Such a cheesy, cheeky bastard.
Lilith walked through the halls with an evil smile on her face. The white walkway was old, dripping with some black fluids and blood that was smeared throughout the years. Windows were sealed with bars, as only single beds with torn sheets and a toilet sat in the rooms that she walked past. Insane Asylums were always something that interested Lilith. The idea of humans putting other humans in this very place, for their own good no less, was unbelievably entertaining. It was like the humans wanted their kind to go insane, but the place didn't bother her companions, or herself.
She made her way through the halls, finally making it to the vine covered double doors. She heard grunts, claps of metal on metal, and curse words flying in every direction. The smile on her face only grew when she burst through the doors, looking at the scene before her.
Leviathan looked like he was struggling against the opponent, but holding his own. He would dodge the attacks, and strike a few of his own, although he never did any particular damage. The pair jumped from table to table, kicking over chairs that people once sat in to each, and sliced a few in half as Leviathan's sword missed his target over and over, only landing a few small hits.
The man laughed after Leviathan missed again, and jumped back, turning to smile at Lilith like he knew she was watching. Out of everyone in the world, Lilith cared for him more than anything. She was doing all this for him anyway, and although he hated the idea of staying a secret, he knew why she was doing it. Didn't mean he had to like it.
"Hello mother," Jonathan bowed. "Tell me that I can finally leave this forsaken place."
That was his first request every time she saw him. Granted, she understood why. The other prisoners couldn't know of his existence, no one could. Only three people knew that Jonathan was back, hands and all. That was Leviathan, Agramon, and Lilith, and she planned to keep it that way. She had to keep an ace up her sleeve.
Leviathan threw his sword away, dropping down on one of the table tops to sit. For a demon, he looked extremely tired. "Where's Agramon?" he asked curiously.
"Dealing with Alec," Lilith answered.
"Can I ask you something, Mother?" Jonathan requested as he twisted the sword in his hand, staring at it in awe. "What is Agramon's obsession with him? Not that I mind the screams that come from him every once in a while but there are plenty of other victims for him to have fun with."
Jonathan's curiosity had peaked since he returned after Simon's mother finally passed. In the past few days, it had been nothing but questions from him, and although Lilith didn't mind it, she was confused by it. Her son wasn't the kind of boy who asked questions that didn't related to him. Although he did look so much older than before, unlike Jace, he hadn't lost any of his speed or abilities. And with his new, metal looking hand, he was stronger than he had ever been in the past.
But he still expected his question to be answered. And Lilith wasn't exactly trying to make him angry, considering her weaker state in life. "Magnus and Agramon had a quarrel a few centuries back. You could say that he never got his revenge on the warlock."
"Sounds logical enough," Jonathan said with satisfaction. "So when do I get to finally surprise those bitchy Shadowhunters and kill them? I can't wait to see Clary's face when she realizes I'm not as dead as they thought."
Leave it to Jonathan to get right to the point. "Chase informed them of the meeting, just like we asked him to. And with the book he strategically placed in the library, they believe that your existence is really just Agramon acting against Emily's fear, which is partly true since you don't exactly look as young as you used to. In other words, on Friday, you shall finally have what you've been waiting for, just be patient."
Jonathan scoffed, shaking his head. His white hair shook and need to be cut, but that wasn't something Lilith was going to concern herself with at this point. "Patience isn't something I've ever been good at. But if it'll get Jace's head on a silver platter, I'll deal with it."
Hey guys! Things are about to get really busy around my house now, and I apologize but I won't be able to update as much. But don't forget to review. Tell me what you like or don't like. I always take every opinion into account, trying to twist what you guys want into the story. Thanks for reading! REVIEW!