THIS WAS SO HARD TO WRITE! I don't know why, but it was a pain in the ass and I really hope you all enjoy it or I might cry. Well, not really, but really. Have at it!

Emily and Chase, after many minutes of running around, finally found the stairs and had made it to the first floor. They were currently searching for some kind of door, kicking each door open hoping it led down lower. All caution had been put aside as they pretty much blasted their way through the hospital. Doors flew in rooms as they kicked and slashed away, looking in every corner as fast as they could. They were pretty much destroying the place.

Her mind was wondering the whole time they searched. Her entire family was here, along with all of her friends, and she knew that she couldn't protect all of them. That's what scared her. Michael, her little brother, who had never hurt a fly before in his life, just had to kill one of the strongest greater demons to ever live with the help of a warlock. That warlock is now the only healing chance they had of saving the others, and he's currently passed out. Not to mention everyone else who was more than likely on the brink of death in that room. And Michael was alone, dealing with it on his own. It wasn't looking good.

"We need Tessa," Chase grumbled as he kicked open another door, only to be shown an empty room that was useless to them. "She could just transform into my sister and tell us how to find everyone."

If only it were that easy. Tessa and Jem were still off the grid, and they couldn't find them even if they wanted to. Magnus had tried at one point, and eventually gave up. So it was up to the two teenagers, well one teenager and one recent adult, to find and stop Lilith and her minions.

That's when a scream broke through the air, stopping Emily in her tracks. Chase froze as well, looking at the door just to the left of him where it came through.

He looked at Emily, eyes wide and worried. "Did that sound like Isabelle to you?"

"Hurry," she said quickly and stepped up beside him. Chase acted, kicking out and knocking the door off its hinges. It was loud, louder than the others as it immediately slammed into another wall, and Emily was faced with a very strange looking situation.

There was a trapdoor, wooden and resembled the type that people found in old movies. It was sitting in the middle of this small closet-like space, and was actually open. Emily stepped forward, Chase's hand on her back for safety and peered down. It was dark, too far down for her to see anything, but it looked empty enough. No current noise was coming through. They had to look though, and she stepped forward again.

And then she was pushed. The force was against her lower back, and she lost her footing. She found herself plummeting down in the black hole. She heard Chase grunt as he was shoved as well, but she couldn't focus on that. The ground was coming up at her at a speedy rate, and she twisted to land on her feet. Once she hit, she rolled like her father taught her to do plenty of times, and popped back up on her feet, seraph blade ready and was faced with her worst nightmare.

Her mother and Isabelle were chained to the concrete wall across the way, just like in her dreams. Their feet were dangling above the floor, their heads dropped forward and looking completely unconscious. She couldn't even tell if they were breathing. Their gear wasn't messed up too badly, a few scratches here and there, but seeing her mother so helpless was terrifying. Clary always seemed so strong, just like Jace, and watching her so helpless and restrained made Emily seem very small and insignificant.

Then her eyes flew to a very familiar figure. Jocelyn. Her grandmother was on the floor, face first, hair covering her face that Emily represented so well. How many people had Lilith grabbed? Hurt? Murdered? Was Jocelyn even alive? How many people was Emily going to have to avenge?

She heard Chase thump behind her, and she turned. Her eyes went to him, and she knew that he didn't exactly handle the fall well. There was a reason he couldn't just jump out of the third story window earlier. He couldn't handle that kind of impact. No Shadowhunters could, unless they were unique. Not to mention he landed very wrong. His right leg was bent at a strange angle, his unconsciousness his only salvation from the pain. As much as she wanted to help Chase, to aid him, her eyes were pulled away from when the sound of a struggle came from her right.

Her father. He was in a headlock, face pale and staring at her. Blood streaked down his face, bruises forming on his chest. The top half of his gear was ripped off, probably thrown somewhere across the room. He looked awful, the worst she'd ever seen him. Cuts and bruises were already forming all over his upper body as he grasped at the figure holding him. The arms wrapped around him were vaguely familiar as he struggled, and Emily's eyes rose to meet her Uncle's.

"Hello, Emily," he smiled, twisting as her father grabbed at his arms. A whimper fell from her father's lips, making her heart shatter and practically break. He never showed weakness or pain, but the look in his eyes was that of complete anguish. "You came just in time for the show."

Emily's seraph blade that she named Michael sprang to life again in the palm of her hand. "Let. Him. Go."

He didn't, only tightening his grip even more. Jace struggled, his face going pale and then to a shade of purple. Jonathan looked past Emily as another body fell down, landing gracefully behind her. She swiveled on her heels, and was immediately met with the edge of a blade against her throat. Gemma's blade.

The girl smiled evilly, pushing it against Emily's chest as she stepped over Chase's unconscious body. Emily backed up slowly, Gemma stalking her with a cat like grace. "You made this all too easy, Emily. Much, much too easy."

That voice. Emily cringed, realizing that Gemma wasn't Gemma. That wasn't her voice. She might have only met the girl briefly, but her voice didn't drip with so much venom in it. Her voice was more of a song, ringing and bright, despite the fact that Chase said she'd been marked. It was her body, her clothes, her sword, but it wasn't her, and it wasn't because of the mark this time. This voice was one that she'd never heard, but she got her answer as Jace growled it out with a short breath.

"Lilith."

Gemma, or rather Lilith, nodded, moving her focus completely to Emily, and looking rather dangerous.

This was it, right? Emily promised herself, not literally, but basically that she would kill Lilith. People were hurt and injured because of this woman. Conan and Chase were both unconscious because of her. Kadan and Bat might be dead. Simon was hurt. Her mother was chained to the wall, along with Isabelle. Her grandmother might be dead! And her father was in a choke hold because of a grudge she and Jonathan couldn't get over.

But this was Gemma. This was Chase's sister, the one he spent all his time fighting for. But it was also Lilith. Emily had never experienced possession, especially this kind. But as she quickly went through the possibilities in her head, with Lilith's' influence on Gemma because of the rune, it wouldn't be that hard to make Gemma submit. It would be a synch, and Lilith had obviously succeeded. Emily was looking into the eyes of her boyfriend's sister, but into the soul of the greater demon that is threatening her whole family.

She'd kill her at all costs.

But how? How could she do it without more casualties? If she made a move now, there was no doubt in her mind that Jonathan wouldn't spare her father. He'd probably break his neck before she even had a chance to stop him. And she needed her father to help her through this.

"Jonathan," Gemma/Lilith called out, looking over her shoulder towards the men. "Silence Jace, will you?"

Emily didn't have to look to realize what happened. It was too quick for her to catch onto. The sound of blade being released from a sheath rang through the air, and then she heard her father suck in a breath before he hit the floor with a thud.

And she did everything she could to fight back her emotions. She wanted to reach out, to wrap her hands around Gemma's throat and squeeze until her last breath escaped and the light fell from her eyes. She wanted to send her blade right through Jonathan's throat, watch his lips part in a pained gasp, and watch him collapse to the floor for what he did. She wanted to watch it, to watch it happen at her own hands. They deserved it, and they were going to get what they deserved. If they were going to deal pain, they were getting in return.

What goes around, comes around, right? She never understood Justin Timberlake's song until then. Granted, the scenario was slightly different, but it still had the same principle.

"Look at him, Emily," Gemma ordered. She had stopped moving, letting Emily create the space that she needed to breathe. "Look at your father, child."

Even though it was the last thing she wanted to do, she did what she was told. Jace was on his back, a blade sticking out of his lower abdomen. His hands were on the hilt of the small dagger, begging it to come out but not having the strength to do it. Why didn't Jonathan just kill him? Why didn't he just stick the blade through his heart?

What game were they playing at?

"It's just you and me now," Jonathan said. He was dangerously close, but directly behind her. She couldn't see him, but she could sense him. "Once you're out of the way, the angel girl that everyone spoke so highly about, I'll finally be able to fulfill my father's intentions for the world."

"Is that what this is about?" Emily asked, swiveling on her heels to face her uncle. Just the fact that they had similar blood in their veins made her sick to her stomach. "Revenge? You want my father to watch this? You want to live out Valentine's sinister plans? What's the point? He's dead."

"But I'm not. And I intend to make my father's dreams a reality. Making Jace suffer is a bonus."

"Not as long as I'm alive." As if to make the point, the blade in her hand lit up. The anger in her body seemed to fuel its fire as it grew brighter than any seraph blade had before.

Jonathan seemed to notice, and he looked down at it. "You've got quite a bit of emotions locked up inside of you, little one."

Emily gritted her teeth, wishing she could do nothing but release that anger on him, tenfold.

"Think about it." He started to walk in a circular motion, hands tucked behind his back as he did. It was like watching a lion stalk its prey. She followed him, slowly moving her head and making sure her eyes never left his. "Your father was just stabbed right before your eyes. You're mother," he pointed towards Clary, "is currently unconscious and waiting for her turn. Isabelle is bleeding out as we speak, slowly and painfully, just like she deserved. You're grandmother," he stopped for a moment, cocking his head to the side and shrugging before continuing to move. "Well, she's a lost cause as far as I can tell. You're precious boyfriend is right there, probably dead from the impact. As for the others, they'll be dead soon enough, along with anyone else who decides to stand in the way of my mother and I."

"Good luck trying to kill me," Emily growled out. Her grip tightened on her blade. "I'm not as weak as you think."

Jonathan looked taken aback. "I never thought you were. You were quite quick earlier. I'll give you that much credit. But I'll kill you soon enough, on my own terms."

"Jonathan," Gemma reached out as eh passed her. Her hand descended on his shoulder and he froze. "Stop toying with her and get it over with."

He smiled. In the dim lights, Emily could see the amusement in his dark eyes, the playfulness and joy he got out of suffering. "You're taking all the fun out of this, mother."

"I didn't spend twenty years setting this up so you can have your fun. We're doing this, doing it quickly, and getting the rest of the plan in motion. Leviathan is probably ready for the next phase already."

That's when Emily realized something. They didn't know. They didn't know that he was dead, thank the Angel. She had an edge. Although, what edge that gave her wasn't exactly clear. It was one less demon to deal with, big whoop. She still had the mother of all demons and her psychopathic son to deal with, and she was pretty much on her own.

So, that's when she realized another something.

She was still screwed.

"Very well."

Emily tensed, but it was pointless. Jonathan was quick, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he made his move. One moment Emily was standing there, and the next she was flying across the room with a deep pain to her left abdomen. Her body hit hard, very hard, and rolled multiple times before coming to a stop. She wasn't there for one second before her blade was kicked out of her hand. It skidded across the floor into darkness. A boot connected with her cheek, kicking her onto her back and forcing her to look up into Jonathan's eyes.

"I've waited for this moment a long time. For the last obstacle to be eliminated." He rose his hand, a small sword rising with his grip. "Any last words Emily?"

She never got the chance to say anything. An arrow lashed out, catching Jonathan in the shoulder and making him stumbled back. It stuck out of his back, and Emily turned her head painfully, looking at the attacker.

It was Chase. He wasn't completely up and ready, but he was awake and sitting. He sat there on the concrete, bow at the ready but empty of arrows as he stared, wide-eyed at what he just did.

Jonathan made the most animalistic roar Emily had ever heard, and she crawled backwards slightly, bumping into none other than her father as Jonathan's attention went straight to her boyfriend.

"Emily," he wheezed out. There was pain in his voice, and searing pain but his eyes were more pleading. She leaned over him, brushing a piece of hair out of his face. His golden eyes trailed down, looking at the small blade in his hands. "Emily, kill him."

She looked down, knowing what he was saying but not fully able to do it. Maybe it was the fogginess of her head or the love for her father, but she couldn't do what he was asking. "Dad, I can't. You'll die. I can't let you–"

But apparently he could. His hands gripped the dagger, and in second's notice, he yanked it from his body. A small cry escaped his lips, a tear rolling down his cheek as blood started to pour out faster than before. He slowly handed it to her as she wiped the tear from his cheek. "Emily, please." She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head. "I know, sweetheart," he whispered. His palm came up, touching her cheek slightly before dropping it to put pressure on the wound. "I love you too."

This was it. This was the moment she had to take. Her hand gripped the dagger hilt, the seraph blade that Jonathan used on her father. Her eyes left her father's fading light as she rose to her feet. Her heart pounded for more than one reason as she turned, and froze.

Michael. He stood there. He was there. He. Was. There. Standing between Jonathan and Chase like a protective older brother.

"Jonathan!" she called out. Her much hated uncle turned, looking down at the blade in her hands. She stepped forward once, twice, the world fading away except for the battle tension between the two of them. If he thought he could have a shot at her brother, he had another thing coming. "I think it's time to end this."

He smiled. "What are you waiting for?"

She didn't hesitate. Her body reacted before her mind did. Jonathan moved just as she did, if not faster as their blades collided, once, twice, multiple times in a metal battle. Emily moved quickly, but Jonathan was faster. It wasn't by much, but it was enough. The only thing that was keeping her alive was…

She didn't even know. Maybe the arrow in his back had slowed him enough. He seemed to be favoring his left arm, the shoulder that the arrow hadn't penetrated through. But even then he was still a bit quicker, and she wouldn't last unless she came up with some idea. Her eyes couldn't keep up with his movements for long. That was her problem!

The past conversations flooded through her head as she focused on the fight before her. Anticipation was her talent, and she knew that she was supposed to use it against Leviathan. Jonathan was quick, quicker than Leviathan, but with the injury to his shoulder, he was about the same speed as the greater demon. The plans for Leviathan could work just as well for Jonathan.

So she did what Chase and her father had been training her to do. It sounded stupid to her own pounding head, but she did it anyway. Her eyes closed, her breathing starting to become labored as she fought for it to calm down. Her hands still moved, still following Jonathan's movements as he tried to slash out, to rip her into two pieces, to put his blade through her heart. She could do this. She had to do this.

"Michael, you idiot," Chase gasped out as he fell back onto the concrete. Michael looked down at him, wondering what about the situation made him the idiot. He wasn't the one with a broken leg on the floor with no weapon. "You shouldn't be here."

Why not? His sister was fighting his uncle. His father was here. His mother was here. His grandmother was here. Didn't he have a right to be here. He gripped the blade in his hand, knowing he had every right to be here, and glared at the woman in front of him, ignoring Chase's pleas for him to run.

He knew exactly who she was without ever seeing her before. The resemblance was incredible, but the current actions had him a bit confused. She hadn't moved since he got here, since Chase fired that arrow, since Jonathan and Emily started their duel of the century. She just looked at Michael, a very terrifying smile creeping its way onto her face.

She stepped forward once, Michael tensing. "So, I take it Leviathan didn't do his job."

"Yeah, I killed him," he said. "You're point?"

"By yourself?"

"Yes," he lied. He really didn't have a clue what he was doing. He'd never been demon hunting before, except for the few times that Jace forced him to do it. He hated it and repressed those memories for the most part though. He hated the idea of taking lives, even demon lives, although now he understood that they totally deserved it. But as he took the life of Leviathan, he felt a sense of warm and satisfaction flood through him. He saved lives, just by that one kill, his first kill, and if he had to kill this girl too, he'd do it.

But Gemma was Chase's sister. As much as he wanted to, he didn't know if he could. Taking the life of a demon was easier than he thought, probably because it was in his blood. It was instinct, but even though he knew all about possession, it was still strange for him to see it in action. And he didn't know if he could do what had to be done. He couldn't kill another shadowhunter, could he?

Lilith – he had to think of her as Lilith or he wouldn't go through with it – stepped forward again, leaving a small distance of five feet between her, Michael, and Chase who was grasping at his leg and sucking in sharp breaths of pain.

She rose one eyebrow, looking up at him from her shorter height. "Just you?" she asked again. "You bested Leviathan?"

Come on! He had the build. He had extra Shadowhunter blood. He was a Herondale. Was it that shocking to believe?

"Ah, well," Lilith shrugged casually. "It really doesn't matter. You'll be dead soon enough, along with the others, and Leviathan's job could easily be replaced by other downworlders and demons."

Was she really talking about it like this? Michael hated this. So many questions were running through his mind as he stood there, protecting the guy that he hated more than he should from his sister that just threatened him and his family as his sister fought her uncle in order to save the world.

Could this get any more messed up?

"You really think you can kill me?" Lilith stepped forward again, her favorite move apparently, and Michael backed up until he realized he was just in front of Chase.

"Keep her distracted," Chase said softly, his voice full of pain and anguish as he slowly shifted around.

Distracted. What did that mean? Was that like talking? Was he supposed to actually fight this woman? What the hell was he supposed to do?

Luckily, he didn't have to make up his mind. Lilith made it for him when she jumped forward. Michael suddenly wished he had Emily's skills, her speed, her abilities as her body collided with his. Her strength surprised him, shoving him backwards and he tripped over Chase. The boy under him let out a cry of pain, probably because of the broken leg, and Michael ended up falling to the floor.

Then he remembered why he stayed clear of fighting. He might have been Jace Herondale's son, but he did not deal with pain very well. They were not friends, at all. When his back hit the floor, it flooded over him like a diver jumping into a pool, and he couldn't even think straight. He was pretty sure his head hit first, followed by the rest of his body, but he could focus well enough and reached up when Lilith raised her hand, dagger in place, trying to bring it down on top of him.

His bigger hand wrapped around her smaller wrist, and with his body weight as an advantage, he shifted until she was pinned beneath him. It didn't last long. Her free hand connected with his jaw, and she was able to shift the positions again. Only this time, he was too dazed to stop her.

He didn't really recall what happened next. It seemed like a dream. One minute, Lilith was above him, and the next a flash of red came through, and a dagger was suddenly sticking through Lilith's, or Gemma's chest, with blood on the end as teh seraph blade burnt away her skin. Her eyes widened above him, and she slowly, with a gasp of pain, fell to the floor beside him, dead as a doornail.

One down, one to go.

Emily dodged another attack again, ducking away from Jonathan's attacks weaponless. She knew that it was a bad idea, using her only weapon on Chase's sister, HIS SISTER, but she had to. She couldn't let her brother die, and although Chase was trying to help he would've been too late.

But now she was seriously screwed. Michael looked pretty much out of commission, struggling to stay in focus. Chase was in too much pain to assist her current situation, so she was faced with quite a dilemma. Emily Herondale against Jonathan Morgenstern. She was weaponless, while he was slicing away.

The odds were not in her favor.

She kept her focus on his movements, trying to anticipate what he was going to do before he did it. Magnus's ability to figure out her skills was the only thing keeping her alive at the moment. The problem was fatigue was starting to sink in, on both accounts. She could see the sweat dripping off of Jonathan's brow, slipping down his face as he attacked. It was swing after swing, each one as powerful as the last, but she had to wait it out.

So she kept up her dodging routine. She'd seen it in plenty of those fighting movies that Simon always forced her to watch. The heroine or hero would always have to wait it out, wait for the opportunity to strike, and then would have execute a killing blow perfectly. Otherwise the world would fall into chaos and thousands would die.

No pressure or anything.

Jonathan was getting angry, very angry and it only sparked even worse since he just witnessed Emily dodge his attacked while simultaneously killing his mother. It was pretty badass, but that would pretty much piss anyone off. He was no different. He had nothing but anger and hatred, and right now they were being fueled by a forest fire that kept growing.

"You're dead, Herondale," he growled as he suddenly moved quicker than she was prepared for. The hilt of the sword came at her head, but she ducked and acted on impulse. Thank god for talent!

Her legs kicked out, knocking an exhausted and tired Jonathan off his feet as the sword slipped from his hands. How he even got so tired was beyond her belief, but she didn't question it. His body fell off balance, falling to the floor and she jumped up, grabbing the sword before it even connected with the floor.

She didn't look when she moved. She couldn't, but she knew where he was, what he was doing, and what she could do stop him. His picture flashed through her head. He was crouching just behind her, reaching out. And that's when she spun, swinging the sword and catching it across his throat. She didn't want to see it, much less hear it, but she heard the sound of slicing skin, breaking bones, and a body hitting the floor as a head rolled away.

And she felt sick. This was messed up. So, so, so messed up. The sword fell from her hands as an eerie silent fell over the dungeon, the only sound was the metal hitting the floor. But once it calmed, it was completely silent.

They were dead. They were all dead. Jonathan, Leviathan, Agramon, Lilith... Gemma, Simon's mother, Chase's mother, possibly Jace and Isabelle and-

The dim lights from around the walls were the only lit provided for Emily to assess the situation. She couldn't think like that, not now. Bodies were lying everywhere. She was the only one standing. The only one that looked to be alive. Her eyes traveled from Chase, to Michael, to Jace, to her mother and Godmother on the wall, to her grandmother. So many people were injured, so many in need of healing.

She moved towards Michael, an idea coming to her head quickly. She dropped to her knees beside him, ignoring the pain in her own body as he looked up at her. "Emily?"

"Where's your phone?" Her hands traveled over his pockets until they finally landed on a square, familiar object.

"What are – you – doing?" he asked, but she shushed him.

This was the only thing she could think of. She barely knew the woman, except for the brief moment at Pandemonium, but this was her only chance to save them. She stood, assessing the situation for what felt like the tenth time before the caller answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Caterina!" Emily practically cried with relief. "I need your help, now."

Holy crap, thank god its over! I don't really know how I feel about this right now, but it was so hard to write. I still can't get over how difficult it was. But anyway, REVIEW! LET ME KNOW YOUR BEAUTIFUL OPINIONS! And stayed tuned for the aftermath. That'll definitely be interesting.