Chapter Thirteen

A/N: Thank you to Veridissima for reviewing the last chapter.

Clary threw herself back onto the couch cushions, relishing the feeling as they bounced back beneath her. Whenever she was away in New York, she always missed Luke's couch. The Institute did not really believe in comfortable seating; apparently aching backsides built character.

"Clary, can you not?" Jocelyn sighed, placing a hand over her belly, trying to calm the now-awake baby.

"Oh." Clary said, biting her lip as her cheeks reddened. "Sorry, Mom. Didn't think."

The older woman shook her head affectionately. It seemed bizarre, to have another child growing in her belly, and yet her teenager did not seem to have grown up much either.

Clary had barely sat down before she stood again, crossing the room to where an easel was half-hidden behind a cabinet. Jocelyn winced a little. She had sworn that had been better concealed when she put it there earlier.

"Mom, is this yours?" Clary asked in amazement. It seemed a bizarre question, when the painting was still in progress, and Luke's skills with a paintbrush amounted to putting a coat of gloss on the woodwork to hide where Clary and Simon had rammed their bikes into it as children.

"Yeah, it's just a little something I was making for the nursery." Jocelyn shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, and failing.

"It's amazing!" the young woman exclaimed. Her eyes trailed slowly across the canvas, taking in each blade of grass, each ray of sunlight, intricately woven to form the scene of a farmhouse on the outskirts of New York City. "Mom, trust me. This is so good!"

Faced with an endless stream of compliments, Jocelyn could not help but smile. After all that had happened, she had lost her passion for art, buried beneath the rubble of the broken world the wars had left behind. For so long, she could not see the beauty in the world anymore, only the pain and devastation. It was only the child within her, and the one sat by her side, that had given her hope again.

"Well, maybe I'll take it up again." Jocelyn suggested. "With the baby coming, we could do with some extra money. That's if I have the time to paint."

"I can mind the baby for a bit." Clary suggested. Her mother tried to conceal her wince. True, Clary had matured endlessly over the past year, but the thought of trusting her to look after a small child, alone, was a little too much for Jocelyn to handle.

"How's your training going?" she asked, thinking it best to change the subject. Clary let out a long sigh.

"Jace isn't the most… patient teacher." the young woman admitted. She quickly continued when she saw her mother's expression. "He's not mean or anything, he just doesn't really understand. A year ago, I didn't know the Shadow World existed. Now I've been training for less than half a year and he thinks I should be slaying hordes of demons single-handed. He's just got unreasonable expectations, I guess."

"Don't let it bring you down." Jocelyn comforted, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Shadowhunters train from childhood. I was playing with knives the same age you were playing with dolls. You've just got catching up to do, that's all."

Clary smiled gently. There was something about the smallest encouragements that felt better when they came from her mother. Perhaps it was the strength that emanated from the woman, the horrors she had endured and come through smiling on the other side. Perhaps it was the wealth of knowledge she held about a world that still seemed so alien to her daughter. Or perhaps it was simply because she was her mother.

"What about you?" Clary questioned. "Have you ever thought about picking up a seraph blade again? I've seen you fight, Mom, and you're a great warrior, one of the best. Have you thought about becoming a trainer at the Academy? They could use your help."

Jocelyn's face fell and Clary instantly regretted her words. Her mother quickly forced a smile, but it was not fooling anyone. "Well, hopefully they don't need warriors around them as much, now that the Dark War is over. Besides, I'm not going to be fighting for a while, if ever. I put all that behind me a long time ago, and honestly, I'd much rather it stayed that way."

"No, I get it." Clary assured her. "It was kind of a dumb question, anyways."

Seeing the young woman's gaze fall to the floor, Jocelyn nudged her daughter, the way she had always done to cheer her when she was a child. Clary looked up, her eyes a little watery, then nudged her back.

"Oh, when did you get so grown up?" Jocelyn sighed, pushing a few tendrils of hair from her daughter's face. "It seems like it was only yesterday you were a baby. Now look at you."

"And look at you." Clary replied, resting a hand on her mother's stomach. The baby inside kicked, pleased to greet their sibling. "You don't need me to be a baby, you've got another one on the go."

"Clary." Jocelyn's voice was not jesting any longer. It was firm and strong, the way her daughter imagined she might have spoken before she went into battle. "Just because I'm pregnant, it doesn't make you any less my baby. No matter how old you get, I'm still going to see a little girl with red pigtails. Even when you're older and you've got babies of your own, that's still what I'm going to see. It's just the way it works."

A smile tugged at the corners of Clary's mouth and she reached out to her mother, wrapping her arms around the woman's neck. "Mom, I love you so much. I really do."

They stayed in their embrace until Clary's phone vibrated. She lifted the device to check the screen, then heaved a sigh.

"Jace?" Jocelyn asked. She knew that face well enough.

"Yeah. Apparently a twenty minute break is hampering my training and I need to get back to work." Though Clary's words were bitter, her tone was the opposite, and there was a glow in her eyes that could only mean love. Jocelyn was truly happy for her daughter now; Jace was a Shadowhunter through and through, but he was a good man, and he loved Clary more than words. That was enough for any mother.

Clary was heading for the door before Jocelyn had a chance to embrace her again, to wish her luck and offer words of encouragement. But the girl was getting too old for that now, it seemed. She was making her own way in the world.

"Clary." Jocelyn called out nonetheless, and the young woman turned to face her, her ponytail almost hitting her in the face from the force of her turn. She stood, waiting for her mother to decide what to say. There were so many things she wanted to say, needed to say. But the words she spoke did not relate to any of them. "I don't want those babies of yours around any time soon, understood?"

Clary chuckled, shaking her head good-naturedly. "Message received, loud and clear, Mom!"

And then she was gone.

It never became any easier, watching Clary walk out of the door alone. There were dangers lurking around every corner in the Shadow World, demons and Fair Folk and zealots aplenty, and it was difficult to believe that her daughter was capable of handling them all on her own.

But she was. She had proven herself over the last year, and the two wars that overtook it, to be a great Shadowhunter, just as her mother had been. She was not a little girl anymore.

The baby gave a reassuring kick, as if reminding their mother that the adventure was yet to come one more time. Jocelyn smiled, and sighed. She still had a baby to care for now, even if in her mind, she would always have two.

A/N: Wanted a bit of interaction between Clary and Jocelyn, after all the depression of the last few chapters. Going to kick off again soon, though. Please review!