Chapter Eighteen

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

For the next two nights, Jocelyn did not sleep. The first night, she pretended, if only for the sake of comforting Luke, but the moment she slipped from beneath the covers, he was awake again, his werewolf instincts too strong to overcome. The explanations had been difficult enough the first time. On the second night, she did not try to pretend.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Luke had asked, as she padded across the carpet towards the door. She could hear the panic in his voice- and no wonder, with the amount of times she had gone missing over the last few weeks- but she dismissed it quickly.

"I can't sleep, Luke." she answered honestly. He would see right through her if she lied, after all, so why bother? "I'm going to go and sit downstairs for a bit, maybe get a drink of water. I need to clear my head."

"Do you want me to come with you?" He offered, though his eyelids were already drooping with exhaustion. The gesture was so very Luke that Jocelyn could not help but smile, but still she shook her head.

"I'll be fine." she assured him, crossing back to the bed to place a tender kiss on his cheek. "I'll shout if I need you, I promise."

Luke seemed to be satisfied enough with this answer; in fact, he was asleep before his wife even left the room. Jocelyn took a moment to watch him from the doorway, committing the beautiful sight of her husband at peace to memory. Who knew how long it would be before she would see it again?

As Jocelyn settled down in a comfortable chair by the long-dead fire, cradling a mug of steaming lemon water in her hands for warmth, her gaze fell until it rested on her bump, half-hidden beneath her heavy cardigan. Since they had first returned from the lake, the redhead had bundled herself in clothes, claiming she could still feel the chill of the wind; in truth, she knew it was far easier to pretend this heart-wrenching problem did not exist if she could not see the evidence.

She had run the impossible decision through her mind so many times, but she had no clearer answer after the thousandth consideration than the first. How could there be one? The child she had lost so long ago, or the child she had never had the chance to know? Her heart was tearing at the seams at the thought of having to make the decision at all. They were both her children.

In the end, exhaustion began to take hold, and Jocelyn's now-empty mug slipped from her hand onto the rug below her. She tried to keep her eyes open, fearing the horrible images her guilt-stricken mind would plague her with as she slept, but the battle was eventually lost. The worries of the real world slipped away, and her imagination took hold.

The light all around her was almost blinding, golden and tinged with happiness. It was the kind of light Jocelyn had never found herself able to paint, for it was so beautiful that she had been frightened to capture it poorly. The faintest of breezes rustled the leaves and rippled the water, just enough to show the calm endurance of life.

It took a moment for Jocelyn to remember this place, for it seemed so different to when she had seen it last. The walls stood proud, the winged symbol of the Fairchilds adorning the door in pride of place. They were no scorch marks or rubble. It was her childhood home, before Valentine had destroyed it all.

"And that includes me." came a voice from behind her, and Jocelyn's breath caught in her throat. She did not know whether she had been dreading this moment or longing for it.

"Jonathan." Jocelyn turned to face the boy, her eyes already swimming with tears. Even through the film of water, she could see that his eyes were as vivid a green as hers. "Is that really you? Or am I just imagining it?"

"Of course I'm real." Jonathan answered. Vaguely, Jocelyn wondered whether he was telling the truth, or just telling her what she wanted to hear. Either way, she would take his word for it.

The redhead stepped forward, resting a tender hand on her son's cheek. Her breaths were coming in heavy sighs, the only way she could keep the sobs from taking hold. "I thought I'd lost you for good this time. Holding you, seeing you looking up at me…"

"I'm so sorry, Mother." Jonathan looked her in the eye, his gaze more honest than she had ever seen it before. "The truth is, you did lose me. You lost me before I was even born. And no matter what she's promised you, that's never going to change."

Jocelyn's mouth gaped open. "How did you know about Lilith?"

"Never mind how I know." Jonathan cut across. "The important thing is that you know. Yes, Lilith can bring me back to life, you know she'll find a way to do it again somehow. But she's not going to give you the baby boy you dreamed of when you were pregnant. Chances are, she's going to give you back the exact same monster I was before Glorious burnt me. And I don't want you to throw away the life of my sibling for the sake of a dream that's never going to come true. I'm sorry, Mother, but it's the truth. That baby is the real thing, but I'm just part of your imagination. And I don't know about you, but I think it's time you let me go."

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Jocelyn leapt forwards, throwing her arms around the young man's neck and holding him close. Jonathan would always be her first baby, and the hole his loss had left in her heart would never quite heal. But it was time to close the wound and let it scar.

"I love you so much, Jonathan, I need you to know that." the woman sighed, clutching him as tightly as she could. The boy smiled into her shoulder and planted a firm kiss to her cheek.

"I love you too, Mother." Jonathan smiled, disentangling himself from her arms. "That's why I've got to let you go."

With a start, Jocelyn's eyes flew open, the breath she had held falling from her lips in a shuddering sigh. Her cheeks were still damp with tears, Jonathan's words still echoing through her mind. She knew that he was her imagination, but it had taken the words to come from him to know the decision she had to make.

The third day dawned slowly, the light creeping over the horizon, but with a golden glow of confidence that Jocelyn could not help but share. She sat in the armchair watching as the sky was painted with red and gold, her hand resting protectively over her belly.

'Thank you, Jonathan, for giving me this.' the woman thought. And though she did not quite know how, she felt the whisper of a kiss against her cheek.

A/N: I wanted to leave it a little bit ambiguous whether Jonathan was real or not, a bit like the scene in 1x06 of Shadowhunters, when Jocelyn and Luke meet in the dream-state; you can think whatever you want! I really loved writing this chapter and I hope you enjoyed it too. Please review!