Hi! I missed you! Twentieth chapter, you guys! Thank you so, so much for sticking with me for so long. And there are reasons at the end of the chapter for why this took so long. This chapter is a big part of the plot, so I want to know who called the surprise in the reviews. I'm terribly sorry that this took so long. I might not update soon again due to a new novel that I'm working on. I love you deeply.

DFTBA! and Best Wishes,

KelseyDockry

"Clary!" Jace called for no doubt the fourth time since I left the park. "Clary, wait. Slow down!"

I was so close to being back to the Institute I could see the tops of the tall building looming over the shorter structures in front of it. Before I had time to look away from them, Jace was in front of me, staring down at my face with pure concern. His hands encircled the tops of my arms and he looked me deep in the eyes. "Slow down," he repeated softly.

As I stared at him, one of his strong hands released my upper arm and brushed my red curls back from their fallen place on my shoulder, his hand resting on the side of my neck. A breath dropped from my mouth in a shaking, unstable sound.

"What's going on?" He asked quietly. "I thought everything was going perfectly."

I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut. "It was, you were, but…" My eyes opened.

"Clare," he pleaded; his eyes moving back and forth between mine, searching.

"She's awake," I whispered. "Rose, she's awake."

"I don't understand. Why are you running? Why are you even guilty? You're pulling away, not just from everyone else, but also from me. Please, baby, I need you to explain why you're so upset."

"Because nobody else can get hurt, not because of me!" My voice rose to a shout, not caring if anyone heard me. Only he existed, only Jace. "So many people have been hurt, died, because of me. Rose couldn't be another one; I don't care if I don't know her all that well. I don't care if I don't even know her last name. Nobody else can die. There's been so much death. You… when you…" I stopped, feeling tears starting to cloud my vision. I couldn't talk about that time. My head shook viciously, my eyes shutting hard. "I can't," I said, feeling his hands come up to cradle my face softly, gently.

"Shh," he breathed. "Shh, you don't have to. Quiet, baby." I felt hot tears roll from my clamped eyes, spilling over my cheeks and leaving trails behind. Jace gasped softly, pulling me to him and wrapping his arms around me, fingers tangling in my hair, "Please don't cry."

He pulled back and kissed the tears from my face. A sob caught in my throat as I tried to hold back more unwanted tears.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I cried. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him with as much strength as I could possibly muster.

"No," he said, holding me. "Never, ever, be sorry for feeling. Feeling is never wrong. Do you hear me? Never." I cried harder, soaking his t-shirt.

After a few minutes of his soothing, my eyes dried and my breathing fell from the clutch of sobs. Jace pulled back and looked at me, running his thumbs over my cheeks, removing the stains of wet tears. His lips pressed against my forehead.

I rested my head on his shoulder again, breathing him in and trying to find the will to move, to go back to the Institute.

"We don't have to go right away if you don't want to. Or if you can't," Jace said, holding me tight.

"No, we should go. We only need to be there for a little while before we can go home. I kind of wanted today to be for us. I didn't get enough of just us."

"I didn't either but I don't want that to be why we leave before you want to. I don't want to make you feel like you have to go."

"We'll just check and see how she is, okay?"

"I love you," he smiled, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"I love you, too."

He beamed, placing a fast kiss on my forehead. I held out my hand, which he promptly ignored, wrapping an arm around my waist. I leaned into him and allowed him to pull me to the Institute. Holding me tightly and purring the lyrics to a song softly in my ear, Jace stood with me in the middle of the elevator.

By the time we'd gotten to the doors of the infirmary, I'd started to have this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. Like something wrong or—no, wrong was a good word for it. I wasn't sure if it was the heightened fight-or-flight instinct that all of the other Shadowhunters and I had or just that feeling that everyone got when something was about to change. That nervous 'everything-is-gonna-go-to-hell' feeling. But I ignored it and pushed the door open, taking in the assault of sterile and medical smells that accompanied the space. Everything about the room screamed disinfected and bleached to the last centimeter of its life. Every bed was fitted inside only the whitest of sheets that pulled tightly over each of them, with two pillows stacked on top of each other. The curved, high, almost circular looking ceiling that was painted with clouds and cherubs that pulled golden ribbon behind them from where it was fastened to their wrists. I never understood that ceiling, why it had to be painted like that. It felt almost like it was taunting the sickly people that would stay here, showing the heaven and the like was only an inch in front of them, only a blink or a breath away from taking them.

Scanning the beds I saw, on the very middle bed of the left row, Rose laying and twiddling her thumbs in annoyance. The young blonde started and looked up at us, then at the ceiling, her head dropping back and mouth opening slightly.

"Oh, thank you, Angel!" She said quite loudly, her arms flying up to the air. "I was about to take a scalpel to the frigging mattress out of boredom."

"You're pretty melodramatic there, aren't you?" Jace said, pulling a chair up next to the bed and sitting on it. His pointer fingers curled into my belt loops and tugged me down onto his lap.

"You two are disgusting. I feel bad for your poor bedroom," she countered, looking at us with fake repulsion.

Jace smirked, leaning forward and kissing me on the cheek. Rose fake gagged.

"Jace," I said. I looked at Rose who raised her eyebrows, asking silently what the look was for. "Rose, I'm so sor—"

"If one more person pities me, I swear. You know I can take care of myself, right? I'm perfectly fine and I don't know why they're making me stay here," she interrupted.

"Well you did get knocked on your ass that other night," Jace said.

I pinched is thigh in punishment. He quickly retaliated by poking me in the side, tickling me. I stood and pulled another chair beside her bed, sitting there instead.

"So did you, charmer. And it wasn't the first time it happened to me. I'm a Shadowhunter, we get hurt sometimes. Can I freaking leave this bed now?" Rose begged.

"You'll have to get permission from my mom for that," Isabelle's voice sounded.

We all looked over at her. "Is Maryse here?" Jace asked.

"Yeah, she just got back to meet Rose. She wants to talk to her alone."

Jace and I stood, crossing the room and going out of the door. Not having a place to go, we went upstairs to the greenhouse. On the way, we held hands and I thought back to the night with all of the demons. I furrowed my brows when I remembered something.

"Hey, Jace?" I said.

"Yes?" He laughed at my facial expression.

"Do you remember that night when we were fighting all of those demons?"

"I hardly forget a night like that. You were pretty badass. Well, I was better, but…" He smirked at me.

I frowned at him. "I'm trying to be serious."

"I can tell by your serious face."

"Stop that and just listen to me!"

He held his unoccupied hand up and put on an innocent face. "Jeez, I'm listening. The last time you acted like this, you pulled a cup out of a drawing. At that moment I decided two things: one, I was in trouble because Angry Clary is the only thing that can get me to do what they want, and two, I was going to listen to everything you want me to hear for the rest of my life."

"Oh, shut up!" I said. "You have not listened to everything I've said since then."

"Um, yes. Yes I have."

"I seem to remember you being extremely persistent with pushing me around, disobeying me, lying to me when you were going to Idris even though I had the full right to go, and having a particular revulsion towards Simon before and during the time that he and I were dating. All of this happened after I told you not to do any of it."

"Well that's not true."

"Oh really? What part of it is a lie, then?"

"Well first off, I hated Simon even after you broke up—which, by the way, is something that I do not want to discuss, ever. And second, I listened to all of those things, I just didn't do them."

"I hate you," I said.

"Now, let's not lie to ourselves. The only people that hate me wish they had me or were me."

"No, I hate you. I actually, truly hate you."

"That sucks because I'm not letting you go anywhere without me and you already said yes to marrying me."

"Alright, will you stop getting off topic?" I requested.

He brought a hand up and twisted it on his mouth like he was locking it.

I rolled my eyes. "Do you remember," I said, "when I was pinned up against the wall by those demons," his hand tightened on mine, "and they said to take care of the unconscious Herondale?"

"Yeah, why is that a big deal?"

"I don't understand why they said it. You weren't unconscious."

We arrived at the door and he opened it, pulling me through and to a spot on the soft grass. "I was almost unconscious, maybe they were just figuring that I'd pass out."

"But you didn't," I insisted.

"Shh," he pushed me down into a sitting position. "It doesn't matter. They were all useless idiots, remember?"

"I suppose," I said quietly after a moment.

Picking a leaf off of the bush next to us, Jace peeled from it piece by piece. I lay back on the grass and folded my hands behind my head, my eyes closing. When I opened them again, Jace's face was hovering just above mine. My eyes widened and my lips parted in shock.

"Hi," he said sweetly, smiling and moving my hair.

I blinked twice. "Where did you come from?"

"Are you asking for a lesson on the birds and the bees or a demonstration of the birds and the bees?" He said, smiling slyly.

I rolled my eyes. "Neither."

"Are you sure?" He asked. "I happen to be very good at both talking about it and doing it."

I rolled my eyes. "You're so cocky."

He leaned in closer, smirking just above my lips, and said, "I prefer confident," before kissing me.

"I'm sure you do," I smiled and murmured. His hand slid down and held my waist softly, bringing me up closer to him. The kiss was slow and gentle, probably one of the most loving ones that we'd shared. He held me like I was made of ash or water, like if any amount of pressure were put on me I would fade and crumble and he would be left by himself with nothing but air between him and the ground. His forefinger traced the curve of my waist, landing on the waistband of my pants. I felt it trace the fabric around until his hand flattened on the side of my hip. My hands were on his face, not grasping too hard, just lingering. His other hand had gone under my back to rest between my shoulder blades, pulling me near to him, not hard but relaxed. And kissing Jace, though we'd done this an incalculable amount of times, always shocked me. It always stole my breath, always brought goose bumps to my skin, always sped my heart and made adrenaline rush through my system. It didn't matter how soft or passionate the kiss was, Jace was Jace, and he had that affect on me. Two years ago, I prayed that these reactions would dwindle. I mean, they had to. Nobody should be able to affect someone so heavily for the rest of his or her lives. But it hadn't left, and now I thank the Angel every time. Because Jace was a reminder that everything in life wasn't pain or fighting. He was my reminder that good things can come from the worst of things, and that things that seem rock-hard and untouchable can love and can be softened. It seemed so cliché, the idea that a bad boy was soft and loving on the inside. And that could have been what Jace was. He could have actually been a bad boy that never planned on opening up to anyone before we'd met. But I wasn't the one that knocked down and peeled off all of his walls; Jace was. He opened up because he loved me. It didn't matter that he'd never been taught to love before. It didn't matter that he thought to love was to destroy. Because the little boy that only knew how to hate and to grieve and to shield himself was destroyed. In the best of cases, in cases like Jace's, true beauty emerges from rubble. And that's what he was: true beauty. He'd always be beautiful. Any person with eyes could see that he was gorgeous, but it took effort to break away his stockade and see where he was really beautiful.

Jace's lips pulled back and pressed to my forehead before sliding to the hollow of my temple, following the contours of my face to brush over my cheek. He put his forehead on mine and set his hand in the grass beneath us, fingers going slightly into the soil. His other arm slid around me and pulled me up into a sitting position, his forehead never leaving mine. His heated breath spread over my face in a strangely comforting way. My hands slid to his shoulders and I went up to my knees, denting the soft ground next to either side of his legs. I looked back down at his lips, bringing one finger up to trace his jaw line. He had one hand to my shoulder blades and the other under my shirt, splaying over my lower back. His fingers felt like fire, like literal flames on my skin. His golden eyes were shut, his head tilted up at me and his neck working. I ran my fingertips over his cheekbones and my thumb ghosted the edge of his lips. "You're so beautiful," I breathed.

He didn't speak because he didn't need to. I could feel the response in the way his hands tightened on my back. Every single inch of him screamed it, every breath he took seemed to say it. He was telling me he loved me; it was obvious. When he did open his mouth, I pressed mine to his. I shushed him quietly against his lips. His right hand moved to tuck my hair behind my ear while his left stayed firmly put on the bare skin of my lower back. I thought he'd pull back when his lips slowed even more but he stayed close to me. The hand under my shirt moved so torturously unhurried up my spine that I began to visibly shake. It froze for a moment on the small of my back before it pushed me hard into his torso. His teeth caught my lower lip and tugged. I thanked my luck for having my eyes closed because I'd never live it down if he saw how they rolled back. And with that last tug, he stopped kissing me. Jace put his head on my shoulder and took deep breaths against my collarbone. My fingers wound and braided themselves into his deep golden curls and my eyes stayed shut for a moment longer.

I heard heels clicking on the stairs before the glass doors to the greenhouse opened and Isabelle stood in the entrance. She looked at us for a moment, furrowing her brows before speaking. "Mom wants you two in the infirmary. She's going to start questioning Rose and wants us all present."

I nodded slightly but Jace did nothing, didn't even open his eyes.

Izzy shifted uncomfortably. "I'll tell her you're on your way." And she left.

I ran my fingers down Jace's curls and sighed into his hair. "We should probably go," I said.

He tightened his hold on me, my small body fitting perfectly against his larger one. His head, still placed in the crook of my neck, shook before I felt his nose slowly move up my neck and trace my jaw. His pointer finger ran slowly down my back, making me grip his arms tightly in an effort to keep from shivering. I heard his deep laugh and felt the heat of it on my neck.

"Seriously, they're waiting."

He shook his head again, seeming to think talking wasn't something he wanted to do.

"Okay," I tried to push away from him in an attempt that proved a waste of time. "No, Jace. No more, maybe I'll give you a treat if you come downstairs right now."

Jace huffed. "Fiiiiine," he whined. He let me stand and smiled devilishly.

When we'd gotten down to the infirmary, Maryse and Izzy were talking back and forth with Rose eyeing the older woman cautiously. "Oh, you're here!" Maryse said when she'd noticed us. Jace sat next to his sister and his mother on a chair that'd already been placed, and I pulled a chair up to the other side of Rose's bed. I looked up at the other side of the bed where Izzy caught my eye and smirked, flipping her perfect eyebrows up quickly. I narrowed my eyes, sick of how she always poked fun when she caught Jace and me in… a compromising position.

"Okay," Maryse started, putting on her (as Jace lovingly called it) 'serious business' voice. "As I'm sure you've been told, when someone comes to stay at the Institute, we have to question them and, since you are a child and other children live here, we must lay down the rules. This may be an Institute but it's also a home for my family."

I bit at the inside of my cheek, thinking of how I was never questioned upon my arrival. But that made sense because Jace knew everything that'd happened by that point and, most importantly, I had no freaking idea what a Shadowhunter was. Rose nodded slowly and looked everywhere but Maryse's eyes. I'd never seen the confident girl so intimidated in the weeks that I'd known her, not even when she was in the middle of fighting.

"So you say that you're from Idris?"

Rose took a deep breath. "Yes," she said.

Maryse nodded once. "And you lived with your mother? Where is your father?"

Okay, that was a little harsh. But Rose answered nonetheless, shielding herself from any kind of emotion. "Dead."

"And how?"

"The war," Rose said, keeping everything very to the point.

There was more nodding, more questions, more to the point answers, and more uncomfortable silence from myself and the older woman's children. This lasted for what felt like an hour but was probably ten minutes. By that time we'd learned most of the things about Rose. I now knew things about her better than I did about most of the girls I grew up with in the Mundane world.

Then she mentioned her mother.

"And what does your mother do?" Maryse asked, finding sudden interest in something other than the rules she'd been throwing in every once in a while.

"She's like… a politician?" Rose made the end a question, as if she wasn't quite sure what her mother does for a living.

"Is that a question?"

"My father kept me away from that and she wouldn't discuss anything with me after he died. I never knew any specifics about her job. I don't know if she was trying to protect me or if she just didn't think I was worth speaking to. Personally, I think it was the latter. If she were trying to protect me, that would require seeing me as something other than a possession. I mean, she changed my last name back to her maiden name when my dad died."

Maryse did one of her short nods. "And what is your name then?"

"Roslyn Herondale," she said.

My heart dropped. I looked up at Jace automatically and he looked up at me. I didn't know what to say or do but he looked shocked, pure and unadulterated shock. The look was quickly wiped from his face when Isabelle and Maryse looked at him. He pulled that 'I-don't-care-about-anything' act that I hated so much. If you weren't me, you probably wouldn't have seen anything but his half bored look but I could see his confusion in his eyes under all of that.

"Herondale," Maryse repeated.

Rose nodded, looking at each of us, puzzled.

How did I not notice before? The hair, the skin, the personality. I swear the sarcasm in that family is passed down like a gene. Seriously, she looked like Jace. Jace has an aunt and a cousin. A living aunt and cousin. Before today we thought everyone in relation to him was dead. But her face and her hair and her determination should have made it so obvious.

I hadn't been paying attention to anything that had been said for obvious reasons. So I didn't understand what happened when Jace stood abruptly and walked out of the room, his shoulder stiff. Maryse and Isabelle looked at me.

"What was that?" I asked.

"I asked if Isabelle and I could speak with Rose alone," Maryse repeated.

"Oh." I stood and followed Jace's path out of the door. Looking into the hallway, I turned my eyes to both sides. Jace was all the way down to the end of the hall by the time I'd spotted him. "Jace!" I called. He didn't turn. "Jace, where are you going?" I tried again. I followed him, knowing where he was headed.

The sound coming from the room could be heard from five doors down if you listened for it. Soft tinking so beautifully played and filled with emotion that you almost had to stop in your tracks and fully appreciate it. But I didn't want to appreciate just the music. So I kept walking, hearing the music grow louder. The door was only open a crack and the light of the sunset seemed to be the only thing that lit the entire room. I placed my fingertips against the wood and pushed on it, making it creak softly. He continued playing nonetheless.

Once I stood in the music room, I couldn't help but just stare at him. His back was bent over the piano in the most artful way I'd ever seen and his hair hung low in his eyes as they watched his fingers fly around the keys. It was so cliché and so true, his beauty. I mean, every girl probably wanted to call her boyfriend beautiful because that's what she thought he was, they all thought those boys were the most breathtaking boys that breathed. They were wrong though, because that boy was sitting in front of me, giving a demonstration in real, heartbreaking music. The thing that made it heartbreaking was that he probably didn't feel that way, he probably only felt shock and confusion. What made it heartbreaking was not the way he felt, but the way he made those who listened to it feel. In all my years with the band I had never had the pleasure of being able to pull that off.

The song didn't last much longer than that and drifted off to be replaced by silence. He knew I was there, obviously, so I didn't keep quiet because even though I knew I shouldn't be, I was worried about him. I took a few steps closer to him, closing the door behind me. "Jace," I said, "none of us expected what she was going to say. Are you okay? I mean that's-" He looked at me, his eyes catching me off guard. They held some expression in them under his curls that I couldn't really place. It wasn't quite boredom or a lack of interest and it wasn't anger, but it was somewhere in between the two. Then he stood and his stance, while graceful, seemed threatening. He seemed like he was about to do something that I should be worried about. His long fingers stretched out once and relaxed, his eyes still on mine. "Jace…?" I asked, but he'd started moving towards me.

He caught the tops of my arms in his hands and turned me, walking at a normal speed forward until my shoulder blades hit the wall right before it met the corner. I looked up at his face, which hovered an inch over mine, and swallowed. That same look was on his face. He didn't smirk or laugh like he usually did; he just grabbed my chin with one hand and crushed his mouth to mine. It wasn't what I expected when I came into the room, but when did Jace ever do what was expected? His lips were insistent against mine, stealing every breath that I tried to take. I pushed at his chest and shook my head, making him move back a few inches. He wouldn't have that though and went right back to where he was before. His hands were on my face, holding it up to his as his tongue moved through and swiped at my lips. At that point, I couldn't help myself and I had no choice but to kiss back, leaning into him and putting my hands on the back of his head to guide him closer. At the first taste of his tongue, I reached down to his belt loops and pulled his hips closer to mine before my fingers were all back in his hair. He pressed me so far into the wall that the kiss wasn't the only thing making it hard to breathe. His hand traveled the length on my back and moved all the way down to my thigh, starting to lift, until my leg was hitched around his hip. And his hand was back on the gap of skin between the waistband of jeans and my shirt that had ended up pulled halfway up my back. He took one more step forward—which shouldn't have even been possible with how close he already was. My leg was so high up that I had to push myself onto my toes. He noticed that and moved his hand down my side torturously, his mouth nipping its way down my neck and onto my shoulder. His hand curled around the back of the very top of my leg and paused before hitching it roughly around his hip, taking all of my control away. I didn't have any power in this position at all, he was too close for me to even try to move. The only thing between us was clothing, not even air could pass. If I attempted to move I would only shift against Jace and I couldn't get back to the ground with him holding me like that.

His lips were on my shoulder and his hand stayed in the underside of my thigh just above my knee. I tried to lean my head back on the wall to give him more room but I was so tight against it that I couldn't. I wedged my arms down enough for me to thrust my fingers into his hair. He breathed against my collarbone and moved his lips back to mine. I closed my eyes again when his body shifted under me. I gasped and my nails scratched down and around his neck, landing just below his shoulder on his chest.

Everything that I could feel, see, hear, and smell was Jace. He was everything and everywhere and nothing was important other than that. And everything that was Jace was gold; he even smelled golden. And my closed eyelids had me seeing gold. That surprised me; I didn't see gold on a regular basis. But then the gold brightened in all spots put one, showing the start of a pattern. And the pattern clicked into a rune. A rune that I'd seen.

I gasped and pushed forward, shocking Jace. He took a step backwards and I slid down the wall, just catching myself on my feet and landing in a crouch. I looked up at Jace, his face looking horrified. He rushed forward and grabbed my hands with one of his, the other moving around my limbs methodically before his it came up to my cheek.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked, worried.

"Paper," I whispered, focusing my head on the rune.

"What?"

"Paper," I said, louder. I looked up at him. "Paper, now. I need paper and a pen quick."

He paused for a moment. "Okay." He jumped up and rummaged through all of the papers on the piano top until he found a blank piece of paper and a pen. He rushed over to me, handed it over, and stared with a confused look. I ignored it and drew the rune that I'd seen. He watched every stroke of the pen silently until I finished. He stared for a moment. "What is this?"

"This," I held the paper up. "You don't recognize it, do you?"

"No, why would I?" He looked at the rune for a quick moment before turning his gaze back to mine.

"Let me give you a hint." He waited. "That night, with the demons, when they had me up against that wall?" His face still looked clueless. "Fire, the blue light?"

Then he got it. He looked at the rune again and back at me. "This rune," he pointed, "is the one that did that?"

"Yes," I said.

"You forgot it, what happened?"

"I don't know. It was just gone and it didn't leave a scar. But I have it now and we can't forget it if it's on paper." I looked at the rune again and frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just worried about what could happen with it if someone gets to it when they shouldn't. Yeah, it's good for fighting demons and reviving but it's a destruction rune. If someone like Valentine got their hands on it bad things could happen. People would die."

"Valentine's dead. He's not coming back to hurt anyone."

"You don't think there will ever be people like Valentine? You don't think there are people now that are like him?"

"There will be, you don't need to worry about that. That isn't your fault."

"There are people still out there like that. There could be another Circle right now, for all we know."

"The people in the Circle weren't bad. Look at your parents and my parents, they aren't bad. They didn't know what Valentine was capable of at the time."

"Valentine is my parent, Jace. Half of me is made of him."

"You are Jocelyn's daughter. You're always going to be Jocelyn's daughter. You were raised like a mundie, the only thing in you that is Valentine is genes."

"Just because you're not raised by someone doesn't mean that you don't act like them."

"What are you talking about? I was raised by Valentine, Clary. I knew him and you are nothing like him. You care about things other than yourself and Valentine could never do that."

"I'm not talking about me."

"Then who are you talking about?" He said.

"You! You're exactly like your father!"

"I have like, nine of those, Clare. Be a little more specific."

"Stephen. You are exactly like Stephen."

"What are you talking about? How would you even know that?"

"I met him," I said.

He looked at me like I was crazy.

"In a dream. I met him last night."

"That's was a dream, Clary. Dreams aren't real."

"You think the Angel blood stopped at runes? It was as real as anything. What we can do, what that blood did to us, it isn't normal. It shouldn't be possible but it is and it's real."

He paused. "Then why haven't they come to me?"

"I don't know, Jace," I said quietly. "Maybe what I can do isn't the same as what you can. I can't withstand the kind of things that you can. You can't make runes like I can. But they said that they'd been waiting for me. Maybe they just haven't come to you yet."

"What did they say?"

"Not that much. The dagger that Amatis gave you was a gift to Stephen. His sister, Rose's mother, gave it to him before he died and he left it to Amatis when he died. "

"Okay…" His face was still confused.

"It gave me the rune the first time."

"Oh. But how? They didn't know that I'd give it to you."

"I don't know how that works but they knew I had it."

He stared at the wall for a while. "You met my parents," he said in a voice just barely above a whisper.

I nodded, smiling sadly. "They wanted me to tell you that they love you and they're sorry."

"For what?"

"For not being there when you grew up. And for how you grew up."

He laughed once. "Yeah, well nobody is able change that now."

"Hey," I leaned forward, holding his face between both of my hands, "you're perfect, Jace. How you were raised doesn't affect you." I looked from one of his eyes to the other.

He grabbed my wrists and pulled my hands from his face.

"I know we've talked about this a million times but Valentine isn't your father. You don't get your personality from him."

"How do you know that?" He asked, glaring at the wall.

"Because you are exactly like your father. Your father, not mine."

He looked at me again.

"Yeah, Stephen is a jackass too." I smiled.

"Are you serious?"

"And you look exactly like him. Well, you have Celine's eyes. But everything else is exactly like your father."

He stared at the wall and bit at his lip. He hadn't moved away from me so he was still very close, enough for me to be able to feel him without touching him. And I didn't touch him.

"No one expects you to be okay with this. I know what it's like to have family you don't know about."

He laughed once, shaking his head. "It's stupid. She's not even a close family member. It's not like I have a sister I didn't know about. She's my cousin."

I closed my eyes for a moment when he said sister. "It's okay for you to feel, Jace."

He finally looked at me, his gold burning bright. But he didn't touch me. He looked angry and empty and upset. His teeth were clenched tight together, making his jaw look even more defined. It didn't matter how angry and upset he was. He was still beautiful; he'd always be beautiful.

"I do feel, that's what I'm worried about," he said.

My eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

He shook his head again. "I spent sixteen years refusing to feel. Then you showed up, and suddenly I'm feeling about something as stupid as a long lost cousin." I opened my mouth to speak but he kept talking. "You know, when I was fourteen I would train for five hours a day, just to make sure no feeling happened? And you were the only thing that made me give myself away. The only thing. And I hated you for that sometimes. I would have hated you completely if I didn't love you. Even when you were my sister I couldn't help but give everything to you. I tried so hard to stay away from you. But you were always there in the back of my mind, like you lived there. And all I could do was try to stop thinking about you. Every red was your hair, every green was the same color as your eyes, and every girl who walked by wasn't good enough. I tried with Aline and even she wouldn't work."

"What do you mean 'even she didn't work'?" I asked.

"She was there and she was willing, more than willing," I clenched my teeth together tightly, "and I thought that if I just had someone other than you, I could ignore these feelings," he spat the word with a certain amount of hate, like he still loathed the idea of emotions. "And her fingers on me made me feel sick, her lips were worse, but I tried to stick it out because if I could just get enough of a girl that wasn't my sister, I thought maybe…" Jace stopped speaking, turning his eyes from the wall to mine. They were dark and shining and thoughtful. "But she wasn't you and that wasn't enough. It's like I was broken to other women."

I stared at him after he finished speaking, trying to decide if I should say anything or just sit there. And he stared back, seeming to be done with talking. I looked out of the window that'd changed color with the sunset.

I looked back at him and said very quietly, "Do you want me to apologize for that?"

Jace moved his hands to hold his head, palms pressed on his forehead. "I don't know what I want, but it's not that."

"I don't understand, Jace."

He shook his head a little and shrugged.

I held the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger for just a moment before I got up off the floor. I walked away and closed the door behind me, not saying anything. I didn't have anywhere to go really, so I just walked through the endless corridors of the Institute. I first came here two years ago and I still don't think I've been everywhere. It reminded me of a show I used to watch when Jocelyn was gone. The show that had a big blue box that was bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. Jocelyn hated when I watched it because it involved aliens and time and space travel. Back in the day, I thought she'd think I would have some kind of crazy day dream about time travel, but really the aliens were too close to demons. Who knew?

"Clary?"

I turned around quickly, my hair whirling. Isabelle stood in the middle of the hall, her lips parted a bit and her head turned slightly to the side. She had her arm bent up and one finger extended a little.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her eyebrows moving together.

I blinked twice. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Why?"

"You've been walking through the halls for an hour now."

"That's not true, it couldn't have been that long." I pulled out my phone to see that it had in fact been an hour. "How is that possible?" I whispered to myself.

Izzy walked forward and put her hand on my shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay?" She asked again.

"Yeah, Iz, I'm fine."

"Where's Jace?"

"Uh," I tucked my hair behind my ear, "the last I saw him, he was in the music room."

"Hmm, well he's not there now. But we've only just checked so…"

I nodded. "I think… I think I'm going to go take a walk."

"You've been walking, Clary," Izzy said, raising one eyebrow.

"A proper walk," I said, moving past her. I could still feel her eyes on my back. "Quit worrying about me, Iz. I'm just as fine as I've always been."

"Yeah," she called, "that's what worries me."

My feet carried me until I got to where I wanted to be, Jace's room. He'd be in there, I knew. His door creaked when I opened it and when I closed it behind me. The door to his bathroom was cracked open just a bit and steam was rolling out of it. The sound of water beating against the tub also came from the room. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his bedroom door.

"Jace?" I said. He didn't respond and I figured he didn't hear me. I bit on my lip and squeezed my eyes tight just for a moment before pushing away from the wood. Watching my feet, they moved one in front of the other until they were at the steam from under the crack. Grabbing the handle, I pushed it open further, assaulting myself with the hot and wet air of the bathroom. It was very hot in there, making my clothes feel sticky very fast. The mirror was fogged over and the navy blue shower curtain was drawn closed. The air smelt heavily of soap. I huffed out a breath and turned to the shower. Gathering my wits, I reached up and curled my fingers around the curtain, pulling it back just a bit.

Jace turned around at the sound of the rattling metal against the rod. "Clary?" He asked, blinking against the water. He reached out and put his hand against the lower bit of the curtain, covering everything from half way down his abs to the floor.

I widened my eyes and tried to find my voice.

"What are you doing here?" He said, still sounding shocked.

"I… don't know." I stared up at him, water trailing over his face from his hair, the spray from the shower hitting his muscular shoulder and flowing down his body. His eyes were burning gold, brighter than usual.

Jace's eyebrows pulled down in confusion. "Okay…?"

And then he moved to face the wall, turning his face up to the shower head. The pressure of the water pushed his curls back and the stream ran down and flowed off his chin, landing back just below his neck and continuing down. At that point, I think I forgot how to breathe, or really what air was in the first place. And I didn't bother with blinking, fearing that it would take away my time with this view. He lifted his hands up and ran a bar of soap over his shoulder, mixing the soap with the water and flowing down his arm over the scars and golden flesh. And as he continued to spread the soap over his chest, stomach, and shoulders, I shook my head to orient myself.

"Jace," I said.

He turned his head toward me, making his hair fall forward into his face and his eyes continue to blink against the water.

"Are you—are we okay?" I asked, just wanting some assurance.

"Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?"

"Well," I said, "in that case." I reached up and grabbed him by the back of his neck, pulling him down and crushing my lips to his. He froze for a moment before reaching out and wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me against him with the shower curtain caught between us. The front of my shirt soaked almost instantly and water wrapped around following his arm. I reached down and grabbed the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up and breaking the kiss for just a moment before tugging him back to me. And I stood there in jeans and a soft-pink bra, clutching at Jace who was wearing a lot less than that. One of my legs were in the tub, being drenched by the shower, while the other was outside and pushing up onto my tiptoes. He pulled me closer, my skin meeting his. Jace's flesh was hotter than the water even though he'd turned it up as warm as he could handle. Everything around me was burning and my lips were sliding against his, water flowing in every space it could.

"Jace?" A voice called from the door to his room. We both froze for a moment. "Jace, where are you?"

I looked at the door and saw that it was still cracked open. I got my leg out of the tub and ran a couple steps forward to close and lock the door. My back slid down the door until I was sitting on the floor. Then the voice was back.

"Jace, are you in there?" It was Maryse at the bathroom door, just on the other side of it from me. I covered my mouth and stilled.

"Yeah," Jace said, his voice sounding normal but his face was worried. He was staring at me. Angel, he was beautiful. I probably looked terrible, shirtless, soaked, and blushing. My hair was dripping on the rug and my jeans were uncomfortably tight against my legs, but I wasn't about to take those off.

"Have you seen Clary? Isabelle said she went out for a walk but I'm still a bit worried about her. I think she might be upset."

"No," Jace said, "I don't know. Maybe she went home."

Maryse paused. "Okay. What about you then, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm also in the shower so I'll talk to you later."

"Alright, I'll be in the library."

"Yeah," he said. I heard Maryse leaving and shutting the door behind her.

I huffed. "Geez, that was close."

He looked at me again before going back to finishing his shower. "In more ways than one."

I got up and went over to pick up my shirt. "Damn," I said.

"What?"

I rubbed it between my fingers, squeezing some water out of it over the sink. "I can't wear any of this. My jeans are soaked through and my shirt isn't much better."

The water cut off and Jace's hand flashed out and grabbed the towel from where it was hanging next to the shower. He emerged after a moment with the white towel wrapped around his hips. He grabbed the other towel and walked up behind me. I was staring at the shirt in my fists when I felt the towel go around my shoulders and him hug me back against his chest.

Looking up at him in the mirror, I saw him smile for a moment. He nuzzled his face into my neck and wet hair, rubbing his hands against the towel on my arms. His lips peppered kissed over my neck and shoulder.

"Hi," I said, winding my fingers into his hair.

"Mmm," he whispered against the skin of my neck. I turned around and wrapped my arms around his bare waist. His hand ran up and down my back, warming and drying it. I put my head on his chest and pressed my fingers into his shoulder blades, running them down slightly. His hair dripped down on top of my head and rolled down my face every once in a while. I looked up at him to see Jace staring down at me.

"So," he said after a moment, "did you really come in while I was taking a shower, take your shirt off, and make out with me? Or am I just dreaming?"

I blushed fiercely, backing up and wrapping the towel tighter around my shoulders. My eyebrows pulled down and I puckered my lips to the side, looking at him unhappily.

He rolled his eyes and reached forward, putting his hand on my cheek. Taking a step forward, he pressed his body against mine. "I was just teasing you, Clare. It's what I do. It's also the thing I'm best at."

"I thought you were best at being an arrogant ass," I said, smirking.

He smiled and put his arms around my waist, pulling me against him further. "Yeah, I'm pretty damn good at that. You know, I'm good at knowing what my girl needs, and at the moment, she needs clothes." Then he thought for a moment. "Well, she doesn't need clothes, I mean, I would be perfectly happy if she never wore clothes again."

I punched him in the shoulder.

"Right," he said. "Clothes."

I nodded and smiled.

He walked out of the room before me, going to lock the door to the hall. He ducked back in and said, "All clear," with a mocking smile.

"If you tell anyone that this happened, I will kill you," I threatened, walking out of the room and following him to the dresser. "It will be slow, it will be terrible, and it will be immensely painful."

"I'd love that. You know what vicious Clary does to me."

I fake gagged. Seriously, I had to have had the only boyfriend in the world who would get off from me trying to kill him. The pain wouldn't even distract him, he'd just stare at me.

He leaned over me. "Baby," he whispered, "you know you love it."

"Love what?" I leaned back like I was disgusted, but I knew he could tell I only wanted to lean forward.

His hand was back on my waist, tugging me to him. "My sick obsession with you being violent. That gag was fake and we both know it."

"Mmmm," I ran my finger down his jaw. "Can I have some clothes now?"

"Ugh, clothes. They're such a waste," he said, digging in his dresser. He pulled out a tank top and shorts that were obviously mine. Handing them to me, he went up to the top drawer and pulled out black boxer briefs. I smiled to myself and turned away, going back into the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. My hair was wet and wild but the flush on my cheeks had faded at top speed. I shed my wet jeans with a bit of difficulty and pulled the tank top over my head. Catching a look in the mirror, I gasped.

"Jace!" I said, storming out of the bathroom. He looked up when I entered his room. He was in only his underwear, but I didn't bother checking him out. "No."

"What's wrong?" He smiled.

I rolled my eyes and pushed him out of the way, opening the drawer that kept the bit of clothes he had that wear mine. I riffled through it, not finding any other tops.

"You have got to be kidding me," I growled under my breath.

"What's wrong?" He said again.

I looked down at the tank top that covered way less than anything classified as a shirt should. "Do you plan these things or do they just work out for you?"

Jace shrugged. "It's a talent."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, going into his closet and grabbing a sweatshirt. The sweatshirt was huge on me. It was a deep black with a hood that could probably cover my entire head without trouble.

"Fun-ruiner," he mumbled.

"Pervert."

He reached out as I walked past him, catching me and pulling my back against his bare chest. He bent down and whispered, "Careful," in my ear.

I suppressed a shiver. "Careful of what?"

"You know," I felt his nose run down my jaw and his arm constrict against my waist, "I can think of a few perverted things you've done. I wouldn't want to have to bring those up every time you call me a name."

"I may have done a few things, but your track record is covered with inappropriate things you've done to me."

His lips went back up to my ear. "You love every second." His teeth were on my earlobe for a moment.

Again, this chapter took way too long. I'm so sorry, loves. But there are a few reasons why it took so long, if you're willing to hear them. A) I have been exceedingly busy, b) I got sick in the middle there (at least that's what the Urgent Care Unit told me, I didn't believe them), and c) I started a novel. So basically, those are the gist of why this took two months. Also, this chapter was so hard to write. I was having troubles but it's here now, and I love you for waiting. So I might not update for a while because of the new novel. I loooooovvvveeeee you, darlings. Have a wonderful day.

DFTBA! and Best Wishes,

KelseyDockry