Clary slid into the darkened alleyway without a pause, one hand clutching at her side, the other already reaching into her jacket pocket. Thoughts darted wildly inside her, all centered on the one horrid thought that had been at the front of her mind since she overheard Magnus and Simon. How could they? How could they stand there and talk about something like that as if it were nothing? How could Magnus talk about a monster with such protectiveness in his voice? She had always had a conflicted view of Magnus Bane. On one hand, he had taken her memories and sight away for years, but on the other, he had helped her and saved her. He had given shelter to Jace when he needed it and had fought in the battle at Idris. He was an ally in the war against Sebastian.
Or he had been, before his views had gotten so ridiculously skewed. How could he think he was protecting something worthwhile? A demon-angel hybrid of any kind was dangerous – Sebastian, the unknown child, even the fey with their ethereal beauty and cold distance. Magnus should have known that, he had lived longer than most Warlocks, let alone mortals. He knew the coldness and evilness in the world, how could he not sense it amongst the thing he talked about?
And Alec – well, his distance during the mission made sense now, she supposed. Even her mother, who had acknowledged that something was amiss with her first child, would have hesitated at killing one just like him at such a young age. It must have been torturous for Alec, who was obviously just as clouded as his lover was. Perhaps they thought the humanity in both of them might shift the balance already inherent – warlocks, after all, had the potential for empathy. But Clary knew the truth. Their child was tainted, dirtied with the blood that ran through its veins. A mind could handle angelic and human blood; it could handle demonic and human blood. But to infuse both and mingle it with humanity was dangerous. The mind must bend, must contort itself to handle the onslaught of differing instincts between the angel and the demon. Eventually, it would snap. Snap and leave behind a monster of a human.
Perhaps the child would not start out evil – no, the darkness would come slowly to the child. It would fester in the recesses of the strained psyche, like poison on a blade, until the moment came when the mind broke open and the darkness could spread. Then, the child would be consumed by the demon inside it, consumed until there was no humanity left inside it – until it was another Sebastian, parading as human until the moment it could strike. It might take years, maybe a decade, maybe two, until the child broke. But break it would, Clary knew. And by then, it would be too late. The child would be strong then, strong enough at least, to fight them - to kill them. Alec and Magnus might be too far, already, to see the truth Clary saw. Isabelle too – Clary remembered how she was absent from the field. And Simon sounded as if he were being convinced as well.
Clary could not blame them. Alec and Magnus were the fathers of the child, an attachment that would be hard to break if not impossible. And Isabelle, she had lost enough family in this war, Clary knew, and Alec was her beloved brother; she would die to protect him and it must have extended to this child. Simon too, had lost things – he had lost his mortality and with it part of his humanity. He was still Simon, Clary knew, but she also knew that he was different. Not because he didn't have a pulse or because of his appetite, but because of his mortality. He was surrounded by those he loved and cared for – the very people he would have to watch die. Those around him would die forever, leaving him to tread on in the world until the moment that he gave in to a weary heart. In this aspect, Magnus was – or would be – a kindred soul to Simon, someone who knew the pain; someone who could comfort him when all around him was death. Clary could not blame her best friend for sympathizing with the only person who could ever know how he would feel in a hundred years.
Clary was not angry with them. How could she be, when she knew all too well that they thought so thoroughly they were in the right? Protecting a child was a noble thing, in a normal instance. But this child was hardly normal and hard judgments had to be made. And she would be the one to make them, if she had to. She knew what it was like, to stare in the epitome of evil in its eye. To gaze on something that walked and talked like a human, something that smiled and laughed as a human would. And she knew what it was like to realize that thing would still laugh and smile as it stabbed you in the heart. And she knew she could not allow that to happen. She would not allow her friends to be hurt because of their blindness.
She reached further into her pocket, glad she had thought to throw the light jacket on over her pajamas, and pulled out a thin object. It glinted in the meager light in the alleyway as she traced thick and thin lines across the hard brick surface – spirals and straight lines erupted from her hand, and she continued, forcing her eyes and hand to stay firm, even as she worried about Magnus and Simon finding her. She had not gotten far from Magnus's apartment – her body was still weak – and she knew if they found her now she would be driven back into the apartment and kept there until they deemed her safe. Maybe they would remove her memories – she would not put anything past Magnus, if he thought he was protecting a dear one.
Her worries were unfound and she finished her runes quickly – the deeply etched lines flashed despite their inky blackness and she hardly paused before her hand was placed firmly on the marks. Her body heaved slightly as she was pulled into the runes. It was like falling and flying at the same time – her body was twisted this way and that, until finally, blessedly, she landed on hard, cold ground. The institute flared up in front of her, beautiful and tragic in its solidarity against the gray sky. She knew now, that she was moments away from the safety of others – people who would understand like she did, of what had to be done.
She did not look behind her as she began to walk towards the doors awkwardly, her body still sore from the poison and heavy from the deep sleep she had been in, confident that nobody was behind her. She was only a foot from the door when she felt one arm, thick and strong, wrap around her. Another hand gently but firmly placed itself against her mouth, cutting off her scream before it could be drawn. Clary bit against it sharply, but the person hardly flinched.
"Quiet now." A voice whispered gently, a voice she knew nearly as well as her own. His hand lowered from her mouth to her neck and he pressed firmly a point. Green eyes widened momentarily before they closed and her body fell slack against the stronger, solid body behind it. She had forgotten one important, ever present aspect that lurked behind Alec and Magnus, Isabelle and Simon. She had forgotten the very person who would do the most to protect his family.
Hey guys sorry for the wait! Thank you all for continuing to read, and a big thanks to A Really Gay Spider for all the help they give! I will try to update again soon!