Wow, hello! So...two months. Heh. Sorry.
However, even if I did abandon this story for, like, ever, I'm going to upload the final two chapters. So here's this one, and then the epilogue. That's alllll there is! Thanks to maxwaylandgrey for beta'ing this for me. You're not too bad. :P Thanks to Tay for being awesome! And thank you to everyone who reviews, favorites, and even reads! I love you guys :) xx
Enjoy! And review? Pretty please with a cherry on top? ;)
In her dream, Jace was back. He came for her the very next day after she willed him to the most, after her father brought her paper. He stood in front of her, his arms outstretched, a relieved smile plastered on his face, and she was sure it mirrored her own. She walked to him, but even as she walked, the distance grew more and more, until she was farther away than where she started.
She saw him mouthing something, but she was too far away to see what it was. She tried to reach for him, but she hit a mirror. She leaned against him, watching as he tried to reach for her. And then, all of a sudden, there was blood oozing out of his chest. In a few seconds, the white floor beneath him was red—the color of blood, deep and menacing. Clary cried out, and before she could do anything, someone covered her mouth.
"Don't scream," the voice said, and then she woke up.
She was back in the dark room, the one she had been kept prisoner in for days, maybe weeks now. For a few minutes, everything was the same. Nothing was different.
Then, she heard the noise.
It was not out of place to hear her door open, but it was the way it opened, like whoever it was wanted it to be a secret. She dared to hope, for one second, that it would be Jace.
But when she glanced over at the door, it was Isabelle.
Clary breathed out in relief as her friend rushed over to her. A million questions rushed through her head, but she ignored them and decided not to ask anything. "Come on," Izzy said, tugging her gently by her hand. "We don't have much time."
"What's going on?" she asked, trying to be quiet as Izzy led her out into the hallway.
"What do you think?" Izzy snapped in her usual annoyed tone reserved for when people were being totally clueless. "We're busting you out, which won't happen unless you shut up!" Then, unexpectedly, she hugged Clary. "God, I've missed you."
"Really doesn't feel like it," she muttered. "Okay, get me out of here. Seriously."
"What, did you think I was kidding before?" Izzy joked. "Follow me. Stay close."
Clary could only nod. "Um, won't people notice me?"
"Yeah. I was taking you to the bathroom to get changed, Clary. What am I now, stupid?" Izzy opened the door to her left and motioned Clary to go in, throwing her a duffel bag. "Don't take long."
"Okay."
Clary went inside, the brightness of the place still surprisingly blinding. The inside of the bathroom was much nicer than she expected it to be. They were in some kind of building, she assumed, though she didn't know why. Inside the duffel bag, there was a wig, some glasses, a white button-up shirt, some trousers, and flats. Also, inside, in the very bottom, there was a note.
See you soon. Love you. – J
Even though it was quite simple, the note made her heart flutter. She got dressed quickly. In a pocket inside the bag, there was all the makeup she needed for about a month. Clary rolled her eyes and walked over to the mirror, placed her wig perfectly, applied the makeup as quickly as she could without fucking it up, and then put on the glasses.
"Not bad," she whispered to herself, and then gathered the rest of her things and went out the door.
"Done?" Izzy asked.
"Yeah."
"Good. Come on. Walk straight, like you know what you're doing. Follow my lead when I speak, got it?"
"Okay," Clary said, confused. Lead? She hoped that Izzy wouldn't get her into even more trouble. Busting out of the place seemed like enough. And then there was Jace. Wherever he was, there was no way in hell that he was safe. Her father, although busy, was extremely cautious. If he hadn't noticed she escaped, it was because of some goddamn miracle.
"In case of an emergency," Izzy whispered while they walked down the hallway, "take of your flats, and run as fast as you can."
Clary's blonde wig was itching. She couldn't reach up, she knew that, but that just made her realize that, when she had to run, she had to ditch the wig. "Okay. Um, who else is here?"
"There's your lovely boyfriend, Alec, Magnus, your mom, Luke, Simon, and the entire police force. Oh, and then there's a lawyer."
"What?"
"Don't worry. We know what we're doing."
"Really? 'Cause it doesn't seem like it." Clary, needless to say, was worried about the situation. Not just how it would turn out for herself, but for her friends. If something happened to them—and no doubt it would, with the kind of men her father dealt with—she wouldn't forgive herself.
"Trust me, will you?" Then, in a fake, but surprisingly well-done, British accent, Izzy began speaking. "Ms. Williams, how do you like working for Mr. Morgenstern?"
"Well," Clary replied, in her normal accent but a more mature voice, "I like it. He's very considerate of us employees, and he pays us very well."
"All right." Izzy was carrying a clipboard, which was odd, since Clary had not seen her walking around with one. She frowned, but quickly composed herself. She was supposed to be acting, not questioning why her friend had a fucking clipboard.
"Next question?" Clary supplied, but her friend hushed her.
"I am observing," she simply stated. Clary wanted to slap her forehead, but it would've been too obvious. Honestly, Izzy, you don't have to actually take it so seriously. She couldn't tell her friend those words, though. She'd be killed rather fast. So, she sucked it up and waited for her friend.
"Seriously—"
"Shhh. Look." Izzy pointed to a corner, where Valentine and Jonathan were talking.
"Why haven't, um, your people gotten to them?"
Isabelle took out her phone. "I don't know." She dialed a few digits. "Hey, it's me. Yeah. Um, Valentine is right in front of my face." There was a pause. No, not literally." A sigh. "Yes, I know." She rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh. Okay. Bye."
"Who was it?"
"Your mom. She said we had to hide you, because the roof is gonna break in about a minute."
Clary's eyes widened. "Um, what?"
"Just come on," she said, and, without hesitation, Clary followed.
"Where are going?"
"Oh, we're trying to find an exit."
"Izzy." Clary shook her head. "You're going from left to right. These corridors are shorter than the other ones, so those must be north and south, and that's where the exits must be."
Isabelle took a few seconds to examine her friend. "What kind of smart gas did they put you in?"
She smacked Izzy's arm. "Come on. Lead the way."
Just then, the ground shook, as if an avalanche was about to happen. The girls wiped the smiles off their faces as people yelled, "Earthquake!" down the hallway and people started running out of the rooms.
Then, completely serious, Izzy said, "Run."
And they ran.
###
The only thought running through Jace's mind as the roof exploded was: Is Clary okay?
"Come on, Jace," said Jocelyn, placing a hand on his arm. "We have to go meet Clary. The police will take care of it."
"I just wish I could see that guy—Valentine—and break his goddamn face for doing this to her." He shut his eyes. He didn't want to think—not even a little. If he let himself think, then he'd have to realize that she could've been tortured. Beaten. Starved. He didn't want to think about it. It was crazy, how much he came to care about her. He didn't like it before, but when he almost lost her, he realized that falling in love with Clary was the best thing that could ever happen to him. It was a hard realization, for it came with a lot of pain and the possibility that she might've died. Just like now, he didn't want to think back then. If he let himself think, form an image of how badly they were treating her, then he would have destroyed the entire world just to get her back.
"I want to see him dead," Jocelyn replied to Jace. "But first, I want to see my daughter alive. I want to see her breathing, and I want to see her safe. Are you coming, or will you stay?"
He stood up. He was shaking with rage, and a little bit of excitement, because even though he wanted to kill Valentine for taking Clary away from him, he was immensely happy to have her back.
Jocelyn led him through a certain path that they had planned out carefully before, but he wasn't even thinking about where he was going. He was thinking of what he was going to see when he got there. Clary. He was going to see her red hair, her green eyes, her pale skin, her freckles. He would get to hear her laugh again. He was going to see her smile.
And that just made it all worth it.
It wasn't just being in love that made Jace risk his life. It was the fact that Clary, no matter how rude she was at times, was loved by so many people for a reason. She was kind, and she was brave, and she was funny, and she was the greatest friend anyone could've ever asked for. She was a great daughter, despite the fact that her mother wasn't the best. Clary never stopped loving Jocelyn, despite what she claimed. She never stopped wanting to get her mother back to who she used to be.
And Jace loved that about her. He loved that, sometimes, she could stop being his girlfriend and just be his friend. He loved that she took her time to understand him without judging him. She tried to help, even when she couldn't. She wouldn't give up, because according to her, there was always a way.
He lost her. Or so he thought. When she was taken that night at Pandemonium, Jace stopped living. He stopped breathing. He became more like his old self, always insulting people and always, always irritated at the smallest of things. He wanted to understand why anyone would do that to a girl—his girl. She didn't deserve it. Why was it that the best people were always the ones that got dragged into things that they had nothing to do with?
He snapped out of his reverie when Jocelyn halted. In front of him was a girl wearing business attire, who was formerly wearing a wig that fell off as she ran for her life, who threw her glasses to the ground along with her shoes, and whose hair was the same fiery red, the same messy texture, as it was when she got out of his bed.
Clary.
His girl.
###
By the time the sun went down, Clary could barely stand up.
People kept asking her questions the entire day. Most of them were simple, but others were not. They kept asking her about her father's plans, as if she knew. She was kept hostage, and they were questioning her. She was beyond pissed off, but of course she couldn't tell them that. They were the police.
"Thank you for your time."
Jace helped her stand up. He had been there the entire time, even when Jocelyn had to leave. She had to go to court—an emergency session was called into order.
When they were out of the office, she asked, "Jace, what's Valentine being charged for?"
"Lots of things. Sexual abuse, physical abuse, possession of illegal substances, the fact that he had guns, murder . . ." He paused, then took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this is happening to you, and that you have to deal with it. But I'm not sorry he's gotten himself in jail. I'm glad that I won't have to think of him taking you from us ever again."
"He's my dad, Jace. And yeah, he's a dickhead, and I would never call him Dad to his face, but he made me. Ewww." Clary scrunched up her nose in disgust. "But yeah. He's my dad, whether I like it or not."
"I don't think he felt the same way, considering he—"
"I know. I want to hate him. I kind of do, actually. I really do. But at the same time, I can't imagine him rotting in jail. Everyone has a good side, even if it's little, or if it rarely shows, or if the person's too full of pride to show it. It's there."
"Clary, he killed someone."
"I know that! And I hate it so, so much. And I'm ashamed that he's my father." She fell against him, exhausted. She was glad that she could start to communicate how she felt about her dad, but it was weird. Usually, in someone's life, the daughter would be spilling this to her mother, for she was the one with the final say in things. But she was glad that she could trust Jace enough to spill her guts out to him. "I'm just tired and sick of this. I want to go home and forget he's alive. I want to curl up in the couch with you and watch those shitty chick-flicks that are only aired on TV. I wanna kiss you so, so bad. But first, I wanna take a shower."
He kissed her, long and hard, for the billionth time that day. "Shower it is. I've always loved them, ever since that one night."
"Oh god."
Clary's phone beeped. It was a text from Izzy. R u ok? M & A went to eat & I'm in the hotel, bored. Call me. :)
She replied with, I'm fine. J and I are headed straight to the hotel. See you then? Too tired to talk.
"We have to stop at Izzy's room and say hi," Clary told him.
"Okay. She's probably worried. Alec told me to stop by his room too. It's just . . . unbelievable. We finally have you back. Are you okay?" He was looking at her as if he couldn't believe she was there and, quite frankly, she was looking at him the same way, or at least she thought. Clary couldn't believe that the nightmare was finally over. She learned that she had spent two weeks inside—and that was enough. Jace explained that he wanted to get to her straight away, but the police had to gather enough evidence and had to know where she was. Then, they had to make an elaborate rescue plan, plus have everything ready for the emergency court session. And they had to make sure that they caught Valentine. Yes, they did all of those things, and Clary was happy, but those two weeks still felt like a long time, maybe forever, and she would never be able to forget them.
"Hey! I'm fine. Just tired. Really tired."
"Want me to carry you?" Jace asked innocently.
She slapped his arm away, giggling. "You just wish you could."
He pulled her closer. She breathed in the scent of him. He was real, alright. He was there, hugging her, walking with her, and she knew she was safe. It wasn't his fault. None of it was. He was just someone who was idiotic enough to love her and get involved in this.
She liked that about him.
"Jace?" Clary asked, peering up at him.
"Yeah?"
"I missed you." She wrapped her arms around him, holding back tears. She tried to be tough about it, but there's nothing okay about being taken away from everyone you love and not knowing if you would live or die, or how long you would stay in the dark. There's nothing that's okay about being scared like that, and having to wait. Clary wanted it to be okay. She wanted to be okay for him—but she wasn't. She was weak and tired and the memories followed her wherever she went. Her mind kept playing tricks, and she kept thinking that someone was going to take her, even when she was perfectly safe. She knew Jace would feel guilty about it all if he knew—not that he didn't already, but he would feel like it was entirely his fault. She didn't want that. It was her mother's fault, and her own fault for going to her brother. She was stupid to think that he had changed, but sometimes, turning your back on family is what's most unbelievable. She wanted to believe that he was still the same Jon who played with her when their parents fought, who defended her when the little kids in her school bullied her in the playground.
Sadly, that Jon was gone.
"I missed you too. And your nose ring," Jace said, kissing her with all that he had. Clary kissed him back, too. She wanted to let go, to forget everything. She wanted him to know that it was okay. It wasn't his fault that she was all paranoid. But, then again, it also wasn't her fault that she was paranoid. She sighed contently.
"Come on," she said playfully, tugging at his hand. "If you don't hurry it up, we're never gonna make it. Well, that, and Izzy's gonna cut off your balls."
"But I just really wanna kiss you some more." Jace pouted.
"The pout makes you less attractive!" she said in a sing-song voice, letting go of his hand.
He jogged to her and picked her up, swinging her around. She shrieked and said, "Jace, put me down!" but he kept spinning her around, and then he set her down, kissed her on the mouth, and smiled.
"That's what you get for saying something makes me less attractive, Fray."
"Cool. Can we do it again?" She tried putting on her best little kid face to annoy him. He made an annoyed face at her and grabbed her hand.
"Come on, Fray, I'm not letting you out of my sight."
"You say that now, but what about when I have to pee?"
"I'll go with you."
"That's disgusting."
"I mean it, Fray." His face was totally serious. "I'm never leaving you again."
She smiled. "And I believe you."
