Well, I have an essay that is due in about 4 hours that I have been successfully avoiding, updating this story being clear proof. So I better get a lot of reviews for this chapter after putting my grades at risk, like the benevolent author I truly am. I imagine you guys are going to have a lot to say after this chapter anyways so that shouldn't be too difficult. Anyways, enough stalling and on to a well deserved break from the sadness into a chapter I've been waiting for SO DAMN LONG to share with all of you.


Sometimes Clary was grateful to be alive.

She no longer knew how long it had been since humans had been dismantled from their thrones, but it had been long enough for her to now know she had never truly seen the stars. Without any people to operate machinery and power grids, light pollution had decreased exponentially. Each night, as the three settled after a particularly long day's walk in search of Isabelle's brother, Clary could see the galaxy stretched out before her. You've earned this, the stars said to her. You may be stuck living in fear for your life at each moment, but you get to see the Earth as it was always supposed to be. It was her own reward for surviving. You make it through the day, and then you get to see the stars. It had carried her through in particularly bad moments when it almost didn't seem worth it.

Isabelle, too, had taken on a penchant for watching the stars after their night on the river. Clary had long lost count of the days, but if she had to guess, they had been searching for a trace of Alec for near two weeks now. Jace hadn't been thrilled when Clary had marched into his tent and—after she got him to realize that she wasn't in his tent for what he hoped she was—told him their new mission. What if we go looking for Alec and find Valentine instead? He had argued. But, after quietly whispering the events of her and Isabelle's time by the river to him, he had sobered and quietly consented. They had been searching ever since. The mall was obviously no longer an option after the herd, but they had gotten near enough to its outskirts to check for any traces of survivors. They had been following that trail for the past few days. Each day was filled with the heady scent of their own sweat under the sun's intense glare and the cumbersome weight of their packs. Clary wasn't used to carrying so many supplies—it made it more difficult to run—but she had to admit it made things easier. And then, the nights would come and they all would let out a relieved sigh. They hadn't yet found Alec, but they had survived the day to see the stars.

"Penny for your thoughts," a voice spoke from behind Clary, reminding her that while she loved the nights for its stars, she hated them for their silence. When it got quiet, she would be alone with her thoughts.

"Sometimes my thoughts feel more dangerous than the apocalypse," she responded dryly. They had the power to hurt her so easily with so little and she was powerless to stop them.

Jace sat down beside her, as per their routine during the nights. "I'm pretty sure everything about you is dangerous," he smirked at her blindingly. Her lips quirked up in a smile as she shifted to look at him. "So, what are these thoughts that have been haunting you so terribly? Need me to beat them up?"

She laughed softly. That had been his intention, after all. To make her feel better. Still, the pit she felt inside of her every night throbbed. She knew why. Clary briefly looked up and scanned their surroundings for the girl in question, though she knew she had already gone to sleep before she would have to get up for the last watch. Ever since her encounter with Isabelle down by the river, her mind had been allowed to run rampant. Before, she had been so focused on Isabelle's pain and struggles to deal with Max's death that she had ignored her own.

"I just…have no idea what I'm doing," she whispered. "I'm not used to being with people. I…I don't handle things—death—well. So I didn't let myself get close to people. Until I did. And now Max is dead and I don't even know how I'm supposed to deal with it anymore. I can keep myself busy during the days, and when I'm trying to help Isabelle, but then at night I don't have any more distractions and it becomes real."

He was quiet for a moment before he said softly, "I'm glad you stayed after he turned."

It was simple and though Clary knew there was more to be said, he had kept it concise. It was so unlike him. For as long as she had known him—which, admittedly wasn't very long but felt so within the context of the apocalypse—he was full of sharp quips and wicked smirks. There was always a layer that he kept buried, though even that had begun to be chipped away in the time that had passed since their encounter with Valentine. This was real, though. It was a rawness that felt foreign and comfortable all the same.

Mirroring the same softness that he possessed, she asked, "did you think I would?"

It was somewhat of a challenge, as many of their interactions were. They toyed with one another, but at the moment Jace wasn't playing. Rather than antying up the stakes, he continued to stare at her with open amber eyes.

"I hoped you wouldn't," he replied, seemingly closer now. She swallowed. Her fingers had subconsciously begun toying with a frayed piece of string on the edge of her sleeve.

"The reason…the reason I had left and kept moving was that it hurt too much to get attached and lose people. But, when I saw Alec, Isabelle, and Max…it may have been painful to lose Max, but she was able to be with him in the end and she has us to help her get her through it now. Alec is on his own though. He'll never have had those final moments and he has no one to help him through it."

She paused for a moment, forcing herself away from the frayed string. Then she continued, more firmly this time, "Sometimes it's easy to forget that people still died before the apocalypse. Yet, they made it through and a lot of that is because people had others to lean on for support. I've begun to realize that it hurts just as much to be alone."

He smiled at her then—a genuine smile that made her feel as if she had finally done something right. Suddenly, he shifted and the spot next to her where he had been was empty and she was left feeling a burst of cold. Had they really been sitting that close that just the absence of him sent her body into an arctic bath? He appeared a moment later out from one of the duffel bags, his hands clasped behind his back and a dizzying grin on his face. She liked it when he smiled like that, she had decided. It made her feel all sorts of feelings after going so long not feeling much of anything.

"I made you something," he sounded suddenly nervous. She rose an eyebrow and straightened. That was unusual.

"Jace," she mock chastised, though on the inside her nerves were alight. "Don't you know that cheesy mixtapes are so last apocalypse."

"So I've been told," he teased back. "Which is why I got you something else."

Clary felt all of her breath leave her in a whoosh the moment he revealed what was behind his back.

A stake. A brand new stake that was devoid of any blood stains or scratches. Its smooth surface was only marred by the initials that had been carved into the base: C + J. Her mouth had fallen open of its own accord, but she couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the initials. Something new was fluttering inside her as she looked up at him.

"You did this for me?" Her face was a picture of amazement as she beamed at him. "You made me a stake?"

If she didn't know any better, she would think he appeared rather bashful. But she did know better. Jace Herondale wouldn't want to miss an opportunity to gloat or brag about an accomplishment. And yet…

"I knew that losing Mr. Pointy was hard for you. And, while I know that it's not the same as the one your brother made you, I—"

She cut him off.

"You made me a stake," she repeated.

Slowly, he nodded. Not a second passed before she had tackled him in a hug, murmuring a chanting of thank yous into the hollow of his neck. He stumbled for a moment in surprise. A beat passed before strong arms snaked around her and crushed her tighter against his body. She could just barely catch the breath of a you're welcome that fluttered above her ear, ticking her skin. They stayed like that until Clary could no longer contain whatever it was that was bouncing about within her. She pushed him away slightly, not enough that he would let her go but enough so that she could see his face.

"I—" she shook her head briefly, the words dying on her tongue. "That's so much better than a cheesy mixtape."

"Just you wait. One day I'll make you a mixtape that'll be so epic it makes the lame brains start moshing."

She laughed. Thinking of a future with him by her side no longer seemed to terrify her. It just felt right. She didn't exactly know what role he would hold at her side, or whatever that seemed to entail, but she knew that she wanted him right there beside her. Because when he was there, she no longer saw just the zombies or the pain, but she was finally able to see the stars again.

Gingerly, she took the stake from his hands and ran her hands across its smooth surface. She released a heavy groan.

"God I can't wait to kill something with this," she breathed. "I'm going to name it Mr. Pokey." He chuckled from beside her, no longer holding her, and suddenly he was looking at her just as he had during their reunion after escaping from Valentine. She blinked. Clary remembered thinking then that it was a look that didn't seem allowed in the apocalypse. This seemed even more illegal, somehow. She couldn't quite place it, but she felt herself growing warm nonetheless.

"I'm going to go put this in with the other weapons for now," she told him, a girly smile still in place, partly to distract herself from the torrent of emotions running through her. She had just turned and reached for the still slightly open bag when Jace seemed to spur into action. He sounded distressed as he called out, "wait!"

For a moment, a flash of hurt ran through her. She had figured long ago that Jace always insisted on being the one to do the inventory because he was worried that she would leave again with the stuff, but she had told him that she was staying. Then she looked down and it all clicked into place. She stared dumbly into the bag's contents where various bottles of liquor and a good amount of condoms rested. Jace cursed from behind her.

"You see, I can explain—"

Clary almost wanted to laugh. All this time she had assumed he didn't trust her to do inventory, really he just didn't want her to see the 'unregulated' supplies he had picked up. And, as Clary happened to see from the label on the condoms, it seemed Jace's ego hadn't been totally unsubstantiated.

"—wasn't trying to pull anything, I just figured it was better to be safe than—"

She spun on her heel, looking up at him with a smirk. He stopped babbling, though his face was a pleasing shade of red.

"Jace, shut up," she hushed with a roll of her eyes. There was something else there too; something in her voice that surprised even her. "Just shut up and let's go to your tent."

It took him a moment to realize what she was implying. Once he did, his eyes blew wide and his stance changed completely from defensive to excited.

"Are you sure? We don't have to if—"

For the second time that night, she hushed him. This time, by pressing her lips to his own. He responded instantly, gently, before becoming lost within the sensation. I'm sure, she responded with her lips as she leaned in, pulling him closer by his shirt. I've never been surer than when I'm with you. She felt him smile against her lips. She smiled back. They had been dancing around each other ever since their first meeting, yet they were always meant to be where they were right then. The wait had been worth it. She had been afraid for so long, but she wasn't afraid now.

With a sigh, she tore herself from him and breathed, "so are you going to take me to your tent or have you just been all talk?"

He swept her up, grabbed the duffel, and closed the zipper of the tent in record time.

It was the first night either of them had slept without any nightmares. And so, Jace's side felt particularly cold when he woke up in his tent alone, the only sign that she had been there at all the empty liquor bottle and his state of undress.


So, when I give you Clace, I go all out. To be clear, this story isn't going to full M, (although there have been some scenes that maybe should have been) but there will be some non-graphic flashes next chapter on Jace and Clary's night together. Where they have the sex.

Unrelated, I listened to the Heathers musical last night, because I'm a giant nerd, and there's this song "Meant to Be Yours" and as I was listening to it I was just like, "Woah, this is giving me serious Sebastian Clary vibes". And now I need someone to write a Heathers AU with Sebastian as JD and Clary as Veronica, but a Veronica that dates Jace because I need my Clace.

Oh wait, are you guys still here? Are you wondering what's going on in that last sentence? Wellllll...I guess you'll have to review so I can update and give you the chapter that will change the entire direction for this story.