Clary was putting on her makeup in the mirror of one of the Institute's spare rooms. Why did Jace have to be like this? Making bad jokes, snide remarks, completely ignoring her except to rebuff what she said...

She sighed. Maybe, just maybe, Jace had always been like this. Except in the past she had found it endearing, or even funny. But she was getting tired of this person, this hollow, twisted person that he had seemed to become. He was even being mean to Alec. Alec had defended her during one of their many arguments in the past week, and Jace had suddenly turned on him and said that if he was so protective of her, that he might as well be her brother instead. Then he had stormed out of the room, and left Clary in near tears. Was this what brothers did? Make you hate them so much that you actually ended up hating their guts? If that was the case, then Jace was succeeding. But the truth deep down was, she didn't hate Jace. Not even close.

The door opened. Clary looked into the mirror at the reflection of the door. It was Isabelle.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey yourself," said Clary, whirling around. She came out of the bathroom and sat on the bed. "What's up?"

"Listen, I don't know what's going on with Jace, but you're going, and that's final. Mom said so."

"Thanks," said Clary. A fight had broken out again back at the library, and this time the issue was whether or not Clary would go. Clary wanted to go, and as usual, Jace wanted her to stay. His go-to arguments were that it was too dangerous, and that he, Alec, and Isabelle were far more experienced. Clary said she wasn't a child to be told what to do, and Isabelle defended her. And finally, the most ridiculous thing Jace had said, was that she didn't have Shadowhunter gear. So what if Clary didn't have the gear? That didn't stop her from saving everyone on that boat. In fact, she liked to bring it up whenever she could, when Jace doubted her capabilities. Or was he so afraid of her getting one single scratch? What did he think she was made of, porcelain?

"Hellooooo?" Clary snapped out of her angry reverie to realise that Isabelle was waving her hand in front of her face.

"Sorry, Iz," she said.

"Whatever. Hey, look. I got you these." And Clary realised that Isabelle had her hands behind her back. She pulled them out, in a blur of black, and dumped the contents unceremoniously on her bed.

It was Shadowhunter clothing. There were long pants made of leather-like material, a black v-neck t-shirt, and a black jacket. There were also shinguards and some pretty fierce looking boots.

"For me?" asked Clary, stunned. She was wearing her green t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. True, she felt really out of place when she was dressed like that, and the rest of them, including Maryse, were dressed so nice. But she didn't care, as long as she got to go.

"Some of it might be too big on you," said Isabelle, "but we could roll up the pant sleeves."

"Thanks, Izzy. Wow. My own gear," said Clary, beaming a wide smile with all her teeth flashing. For a minute there she felt overwhelmed, like she finally belonged to something or someone. She felt like family, she felt like —

The door flung open. Jace.

"Jace, Jesus," said Isabelle. "Can you learn to knock?"

"That's very flattering, Iz, but I only go by 'Jace' now," he said.

"What do you want?" said Isabelle, in the same icy tone as when they'd argued in the library.

"Actually, I want to talk to Clary," he said, looking at her.

"Ok. Talk," Clary said, averting his gaze.

"No. Alone."

Isabelle glared at him, and hesitated, before saying "Fine." Before closing the door, she looked to Clary and said, "I'll be in my room, if this jerk is giving you any trouble." Jace rolled his eyes.

"Ok," said Clary. "And thanks for the stuff."

"No problem," she said, and shut the door.

Clary finally looked at Jace. He was frowning, but she sensed that this time his anger was directed not at her but at something else.

"What is it?" she tried to say in as casual a tone as possible, but the desperation in her voice was clear.

"You're going?"

"Yes," she said. "You'll have to chain me to the wall if you want to stop me."

"As much as I'd enjoy doing that, I won't stop you, Clary," he said, his voice all business. He made a step toward her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, and didn't have anywhere to move, but would have taken a step back if she could. He kneeled down in front of her, so their eyes were level. His molten gold eyes were scanning her face, and it made Clary uncomfortable. "You're like a little child," he said, "there's no use telling you not to do something because you'll go and do it anyway."

"I'm not a child!" said Clary, fury in her voice. "And Jace, be honest. Why do you want me to stay so bad? Because you're worried I'll get hurt? Or because you're worried what'll happen to you if I get hurt?" Jace didn't answer, he just looked at her, eyes big as saucer plates, biting his lower lip absentmindedly. "Because you can't bear to live with yourself, if I died, is that it?"

He didn't say anything. Instead he continued to stare at her in that distant, deer-in-the-headlights stare, which made Clary confused, and she felt like shouting WHAT? WHAT IS IT? at him. He moved his face closer to hers, and Clary's heart sped up faster than a racecar at the Daytona 500. She could feel his breath on her face, cool and minty, as if he had just brushed his teeth. Clary's face was one of horror, her brows furrowed in confusion and her eyes open wide, but all her brain seemed to be screaming out was come closer! closer!.

Then, suddenly, he pulled back, as if snapping out of a daydream. He stood up and walked to the door, his back to her. "You always think the worst about me, don't you, Clary?" His voice was low. He sounded hurt, not angry. "I'm not a monster," he said, and shut the door behind him.

Great, Clary thought. Days of endless, dumb fighting, and now this. The one thing she had wanted, ever since that day when they went to Taki's, and he had told her that he was just going to be her brother, was to get along. She thought, if I can't have him, at least I can be around him, we can laugh, and joke, and tease each other and do the stupid things that brothers and sisters do. And maybe someday, with all the years between us, when we know every embarrassing and horrible thing about one another, I'll no longer think of him as the one, but just as a brother. Nothing more, nothing less.

But what just happened? What was all that about? Why did he nearly kiss her, then pull back, as if reminded at the last minute of what it was he had been doing? Did he actually try to kiss her, or had it been something else, and her delirious mind just imagined it that way?

Clary was upset and hurt, but above all she was confused. That mixture created one foul mood, and now all she wanted to do was crawl under the covers and sleep. The last thing in the world she wanted was to go to an Opera with Alec, Isabelle, Maryse…and Jace.