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Declaimer: I do not own the characters or anything to do with the Mortal Instruments.

Clary woke to the faint smell of coffee. She opened her eyes to find herself in the room she'd spent half her childhood, the room she'd slept in almost as much as her own, the room she'd played Lego and watched her first horror movie. But, as memories of the following night flooded her mind, even the room and the person it represented, failed to comfort her.

She thought over what had happened, the police, the monsters, her mother and the demon that had attacked her. But the image that dominated her mind was the golden haired boy – Jace.

She felt she could think properly now. Last night, she'd been in shock. Now, she knew what she'd seen. She pondered everything she'd seen last night. Her mother had gone missing. That was true. She pushed that to the back of her mind, it was too big to think about, especially since she didn't know the next step to finding her yet. The monsters were real. They had grabbed her. The world as she knew it was about to change. For good.

But hadn't the Alec boy say that she'd forget by morning? She definitely hadn't been granted that luxury, she thought bitterly as the skeletal hands and sharp teeth flooded her mind once more. But Jace had behaved as though she was different. Was she different, as Jace believed?

Jace. He'd been beautiful. Clary had noticed last night, even through the trauma. But today, with a clearer mind, she couldn't believe he'd been so beautiful. It must be her over-active imagination, she thought. She relished in the feel of his arms around her and her breath in her hair before shaking herself and pushing herself towards the door, pausing to look at herself in the mirror as she went. She sucked in a breath, she had a split lip that was oozing dry blood and there was a deep gash on her cheekbone. She looked down, tugging clothes out of the way to examine the rest of her body and looked away quickly, pulling her top and sleeves back. It wasn't the scratches on her arms hips; it wasn't the bloody rip in her jeans but the missing button in her jeans. She grabbed Jace' coat she still wore and closed it around her, feeling better with it closer to her.

She stepped out of Simon's room into the kitchen where she interrupted a conversation between Simon and his mother who were huddled together, leaning in and whispering in hushed tones over two steaming cups of coffee at the table. They looked up when they heard Clary shuffle in and put on poker faces.

"How are you feeling my dear?" asked Ms Lewis, standing up and enveloping Clary in a warm hug. Clary had known Ms Lewis for years and years and therefore the hug was surprisingly reassuring. Simon came to stand behind his mother so he was ready when she was released. He took her arm and led her to the table where he sat her sown and pushed his coffee towards her. Clary took it gratefully.

"What happened last night Clary?" he asked soothingly though Clary could easily see the worry and the urgency in both his eyes and his voice.

Clary took a deep breath before speaking. It was then she realized that she was still numb, in shock. Should she tell the truth? These were the closest person to her now, except for Luke of course. Her mother was gone, and the last time she'd seen the blonde stranger was in the car last night. He'd left her too.

"My mother's been taken." She said simply. Neither Ms Lewis nor Simon were shocked by this. They must have made some calls last night, decided Clary. She decided to carry on. "By monsters." She said.

There it is. The shock was clear on both audiences' faces. She stared at her before sharing a look and then continued to stare at her, worry lining both their foreheads.

"Then," Clary continued, flinching internally as both their eyebrows shot up as they wondered what else she'd say. "The monsters took me and attacked me. I was rescued by this guy who brought me here." She finished. Ms Lewis sat down and Simon stared at Clary with a pitying look on his face. They didn't believe her, she realized. Oh God.

"Clary-" he began but she cut him off.

"Look at my face Simon. Look at my arms and waist. I didn't make those scratches my self did I?" She challenged, her voice getting higher by the strain of getting these people to understand.

"We-" Simon started again, but Clary detected worry and pity in his eyes which meant disbelief so cut him off again.

"It's true!" she wailed.

"Will you listen to me?" Simon asked sharply, tension lining his shoulders and pinching his face. Clary shut up. "You've been through a lot last night. You don't know where your mother is, you were attacked by a guy in the street and we don't blame you for being traumatized, but you need to get yourself together for your own good. The police will need the true story." He said. Clary pushed herself away from the table, standing up.

"This is the true story. Simon, the thing that attacked me, it wasn't human."

"Clary, This is normal, ok. The person that attacked you-"

"Jace saw him too. He saw them all too." She said angrily.

"Jace?" Simon asked wryly as his mother dropped her head into her hands and whimpered.

"Yes, Jace. He saved me, he helped me, he brought me here and he gave me this coat." She yelled.

They were all silent. No one said a word for a long minute as Clary stood there, panting heavily as aftermath of the outburst. Then Simon stood up slowly and came to join her, placing a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Clay, you were alone when you came home last night." He said slowly in a hard voice. "You were alone," he repeated as Clary opened her mouth to argue. "And you were wearing your jumper, with no coat, very much as you're dressed now."

Clary looked down. She wore a black coat over her jumper. What the hell was going on? "Simon, this black coat, she tugged at it, "Is Jace's." Simon's face went blank as he stared at her.

"I think you should get some more sleep Clary. I'll wake you in a little while ok?" he said with a note of finality. He thought she was crazy; she realized and with this realization came tears. They flowed down her cheeks as she stared into her best friend's face that held too much pity for her liking. She looked at Ms Lewis quickly before she turned away. She looked miserable with her wide flooded eyes. A tear leaked down her face in unison with Clary. She turned and walked back to Simon's room, glancing back once to see that Simon had sat down next to his mother who was massaging his shoulder comfortingly as he shook his head, looking down onto the table top, a shadow covering his face. Then Clary was in the room, alone, as she'd been in the kitchen.