Lacie: Man, The City of Bones movie is coming out soon, I don't like this…

Clary: Don't you wanna see it?

Lacie: Yeah but movies always mess up books, plus the actors in the movies never look like what I want them to….. Have you seen the girl who's playing as you? That is not how I pictured you.

Clary: Who is she?

Lacie: Lily Collins

Clary: OH MY SHE'S BEAUTIFUL! SHE'S ME? Hey where's Chris?

Lacie: Chris isn't in the City of Bones so he's not here for now…..

Clary: So we're on our own for this?

Lacie: Yes. Thank you to those who reviewed and I hope you enjoy this chapter. We get a look at the gang back home.

Clary: Jace?! *heart throb* Please give me back my red hair….

Lacie: :D I don't own the Mortal Instruments except for what happens in this story. I also own white haired Clary. Enjoy!

Clary POV

"Say ahhh," Chris had been trying to get Clary to swallow medicine, but Clary would only eye the poison with disdain, and refused to take any of it.

"I don't want it!" Clary turned her head to the side quickly, causing a throb to go up in her right temple. She cringed, holding her head lightly.

"You have a high fever and a cold, and you need medicine to keep it down, now take your medicine and stop complaining. It's your own fault for swimming in the cold water, now stop whining like a baby and take your stupid medicine." Chris used his left hand and squeezed Clary's jaw until he pried it open. Clary felt too weak to resist and practically gagged as the cold and disgusting syrup coated her tongue.

She made a pouty face and was about to spit out at Chris, who was leaning over her, when he pressed a napkin to her mouth and said, "Swallow it, or I will make you swallow it. Trust me, you don't want to know what I'll do to make you." He looked at her in the eye, black looking back into black, until Clary swallowed. She held back bile that rose from her throat, and accepted the glass of water Chris offered her.

"I'll be right back." Chris walked out of the room, leaving the door open, as Clary settled back into the many pillows she had arranged on her bed in her big blank room. If she turned her head to the side, she could see her reflection in the vanity mirror that was on top of the drawer to her left. Deep black eyes stared back at her.

Clary could hardly recognize who she was looking at. A figure laid in bed, surrounded by a mountain of pillows, covers pulled up to just under her chest, white, straight hair, strewn around her face, making her already pale face look even paler, with the exception of the feverish flush that she had developed, making her cheeks, forehead and neck look rosy pink. Her mind went back to last night. As soon as she realized that the white haired figure staring back at her from the water, was her, Clary dove straight into the dark water, and headed for the house that was still floating unnoticed on the Lake. She didn't know why she had done that, all she knew was that in her rage to get to the house, her mind was trying to get away. But there was nowhere to go away to, so she simply went back to where she came from. When Clary saw her reflection, she felt a pit of ice in her stomach that didn't come from the cold of the water, it came from a sense of danger. She was the danger, and she had to get away.

Though it made no sense, now that Clary thought about it. She had left Chris behind, who had to take the motor boat and had actually caught up to Clary in it. He had tried to get her to stop, to climb in, but soon gave up and waited for at the front door. When Clary got there, she pushed past him, marched her way into the bathroom, and looked at herself in the mirror. During her swim, she was trying to tell herself that what she had seen was fake, just a trick that Chris had done, to scare her, that Chris was actually lying about his good intentions and his true motive was to get Clary as corrupt as he was. Clary thought what she saw was just a trick of the light, and when she looked at herself again, she would see those familiar green eyes, and red curly hair.

What she saw shattered something in Clary's mind. She stared at her reflection in the mirror for what seemed like forever. Her eyes looking at herself, but not really seeing. Everything that she had associated with herself, everything that she had known that made herself Jocelyn's child, was gone. Clary never realized, but the one thing that had protected her during the whole Valentine rage, that hid her mind from the fact that she was his daughter, was that she looked nothing like him.

That was different now. Looking at herself brought back the cold look of Valentine's face, she could see herself in him now. To her, the red of her mother's hair represented good, and her father's hair was bad. She was Jocelyn's daughter, but now, she felt so far away from her mother.

She was Valentine's daughter.

Clary sank to the bathroom floor, and pulled her knees to her chest, shivering in her soaked clothes, for who knows how long. She hadn't bothered to lock the door, so when Chris came in and told her take a shower, she didn't object. She moved like a zombie, so when she was done and walked back into the room and changed into the clothes that Chris must've left there, she robotically went to bed, and laid there until she went to sleep.

Clary had woken up that morning with an awful fever, from the cold swim, and a sore throat and congested nose. When Chris found her, she was rolled up in the covers and didn't even want to get up. He had tried to push medicine down her throat, something she hated deeply, and had currently left to bring a humidifier to help her breathe. Deep inside Clary knew that he was being uncharacteristically nice, but she was too miserable to even care or notice.

When Chris came back, plugged the device into a wall socket, and cranked it up, the room immediately started smelling like, like, whatever it is they put in those things, Clary didn't know. She could already feel her nostrils easing up, but she still couldn't breathe, so when she talked, she sounded nasally.

"I'm feeling better already," She squirmed in the bed until she was sitting but still leaning on the pillows.

Chris had come to her and sat at the edge of the bed, looking at her. He looked at her for such a long time, that Clary began to twitch with uncomfort.

"What are you looking at?" She questioned, meeting his eyes with a sleepy gaze.

He slowly shook his head. "It's just, so weird to see you like this, you look, so different, yet not."

"Am I different, or am I not different, decide which." Clary stated evenly. But on the inside she could feel herself blushing, and hoping that her fever covered it up.

"It's just, last night, when I saw you captured by that Arjra freak, you, I saw you change, your eyes, it was like a fog had taken over them, and covered up the green. When it settled, your eyes were black. Just like mine." He added that last part with awe, as if he never could imagine someone in the world to be like him. Clary bet he didn't.

"What about my hair, how did that change?" Clary couldn't help but be curious at her mysterious metamorphosis.

Chris looked at her and retold exactly what he saw. "Your hair straightened out, like someone was pulling on the ends of it until there weren't any curls, and then, it was like someone had dropped a bucket of white out on you. From your roots down, your hair color just washed out, it was incredible to see."

"At least now no one will doubt that we're siblings." Clary unconsciously had reached up and pulled at a piece of her hair, expecting it too recoil and bounce when she let it go. She sighed and pulled a strand of white into her view, and rubbed the soft hairs together. Her hair was longer, now that it was no longer curled. It wasn't perfectly straight, sort of puffed away from her face so that some of the strands framed her face. If she stood up straight, the ends would meet at the middle of her forearm.

"Even your freckles are gone." Chris said, not sadly, but just stating the fact. Clary, on the other hand, gave him a double take, before he brought her a smaller hand mirror for her to see. Huh, she hadn't noticed, but now that she did, her face looked empty, blank. She had always hated all of her freckles, but now she felt too simple.

But at the same time, she felt pretty. Like a blank sheet of white paper, just waiting for her draw on.

"How did this happen?" Clary asked staring at the rune that hadn't faded at all this whole time. She looked at it like it would tell her.

"Let me see it." Chris gently but firmly grasped her wrist, and turned it so that he could see the rune that was burnt onto her white pale skin. The rune was a circle, with twelve small ticks around it, making it look like a clock without numbers. But there was only one hand, and that hand was in the spot where Clary assumed twelve o'clock would be. How a clock with only one hand resembled what the rune had just done, she had no idea. Chris looked at it, but then put her wrist back down, with a face that said he wasn't able to fathom it either. When he released her, Clary could still feel traces of warmth that his fingers had left on her. She tentatively rubbed her index finger over the spot where he had just touched.

"All I know, is that when I made that rune, it was just supposed to lend me your strength and knowledge. I didn't know that it would cause," she motioned her hand to herself, "this."

"How long do you think it will last?" He asked her. Was that a flicker of hope in his eyes? No, it's probably just curiosity.

"I don't know, the rune is still on me, and it won't fade. I thought runes were supposed to fade?" Clary asked.

"It depends on their purpose," Chris explained, "Healing runes will fade as soon as the healing part is done, runes for speed, strength, heat, night vision, only give you as much power as you need it, small bursts of energy." Chris cleared his throat, "Other runes, like runes for parabatai, last forever, because when you become parabatai with someone, that connection last for as long as the two live."

"But I don't know how long this one will last, I only needed it to kill Arjra." Clary whined.

"Well, this is another one of your special runes, I guess we'll just have to wait it out and see what happens." Chris said, crossing his arms across his chest at her.

They stayed like that for a while, and Clary felt weird to admit it, but it wasn't uncomfortable. To stay like that, in silence, like they both acknowledged the fact that they had to think to themselves, while still being in each other's company, gave Clary a warm feeling in her stomach.

She suddenly felt the urge to confess something to Chris.

"Hey Chris," She said it so quietly that she wondered if he had even heard her, but he slowly turned his focus on her, saying "What" like a brother would tell his annoying sister when she bothered him.

But there were brother and sister. And she needed to remind him of that.

"Lately, I feel like," Clary couldn't find the words, and couldn't focus on what she was trying to say with him looking at her like that. So she closed her eyes and focused on the feeling she was having, and tried to make sense out of that. "I feel, like we've been getting along well."

Chris's eyes widened, but he hadn't stirred or interrupted her. "You told me to come here, and I felt really bad about coming, leaving everyone I know behind, but you've been, umm, good, nice, brotherly even , and I feel like that's helping a lot. I've never had an older brother, and I always wanted one, so to know that you're actually acting like one, I feel like maybe I can enjoy being here, like I can stay here."

Chris had gotten a sparkle in his eyes, and his lips were slightly parted, but Clary couldn't see any of that because her eyes were still shut. "I remember on the first night here, I told you we'd take things step by step, but now, I realize, that I just want you to be a brother for me. Then maybe, I can finally feel like home here."

Clary kept her eyes closed, waiting for a reaction from him, for him to yell at her, saying that he would do whatever he wanted with her, to scorn her for such thoughts, to laugh, to cry, something. It was quiet for so long that Clary could feel her fever in her cheeks, the soreness in her throat. Instead she felt fingers move aside stray hairs from her face, and a sudden pressure on her temple, warmth, and softness. Clary opened her eyes, and realized that Chris had kissed her. It was tender, loving. He held his face in that position for a long time, Clary could feel the warmth radiating off of him, until he pulled back, and looked at her with a blank face, but it almost looked forced, like he was trying to hide the emotion that she could see in his eyes. But what he was feeling, Clary didn't know.

"You should get some sleep, you'll feel better when you wake up." He said instead. He pulled the covers over her shoulders, and tucked her in. He walked away from the bed, turned off the lights, and carefully closed the door.

Clary snuggled herself in, and still feeling the heat on her temple from Chris's lips, she dreamed a blank, blissful sleep. She didn't know if what she told Chris was true, or if it was just what she thought he would like to hear.

Jace POV

Jace felt reckless.

Today was going to be the third day since Sebastian had kidnapped Clary, and he was tired of listening to the 'adults' handle things, or at least what they called handling. They've done nothing but hold so many meetings and conferences that they could have figured out a way for world peace in less time.

Jace paced back and forth, already have worn a trail into Isabelle's carpet floor. They had taken refuge in there, him and Isabelle. Simon couldn't enter the Institute, so he was texting and calling Isabelle for updates about every five minutes. Luckily they had Alec on the inside, considering he was eighteen, so as soon as the meetings broke for lunch or something, he'd come to Izzy's room and tell them what went on. Jace and Izzy had only been in the first two meetings, to tell the Counsel what they had seen. Izzy and Alec recounted that they had fought off a hoard of Demon Shadowhunters from entering the Institute, Izzy passing out when she felt a sharp blow on the back on her skull. Alec passed out the same way, but they both couldn't remember how they went from the stairs, to just inside the doorway, or who had drawn the iratzes they had when they woke up. Izzy said that she had remembered a small figure standing over her, telling her that she was fine and that she'd be okay.

Clary. Jace knew that it was her, so did Izzy and Alec. Only Clary would take the time to make sure the Lightwoods were out of harm's way at the time. He remembered all the attention on him as he described how the Institute was attacked.

"We were all inside, Isabelle and I were training, so we were already dressed in gear, when we first saw the fires, we walked outside armed and ready. The first Demon Shadowhunters attacked us, as they did, I saw Sebastian running around, using black magic to set the grounds on fire. I chased after him, leaving Isabelle with Alexander, who had just gotten there. I found him around back, he had a sadistic look in his eye, I questioned him, he taunted me, and soon we began to fight." Jace remembered the look that Jocelyn gave him while he recounted what happened afterwards, that Clary showed up out of nowhere, telling Sebastian that she'd go with him. Jace had no idea what Clary meant, he said how she looked sad and sorry, and when he glanced at Clary's mom, she had tears running down her face, and angry expression on, while Luke put an arm around her shoulders. Jace couldn't help but feel like she was blaming him for her daughter's kidnapping.

Jace was sure it was kidnapping. There was no way that Clary would just accept that she go with Sebastian, not unless he had threatened her with something. Jace had known instantly, that Clary didn't care whatever happened to her, that Sebastian must have used them against Clary, in order to convince her to leave with him. He was sure of it.

And what Sebastian could be doing to Clary right now, or had already done, spiked a nerve of helplessness in Jace's chest. When Clary left, he had screamed for her, yelling her name, he thought that he had left an echo in the air, but when Isabelle and Alec found him in the back, they both shook him, asking him what was wrong. That was when he realized that it wasn't an echo. It was him. Screaming Clary's name over and over again.

Jace felt a new wave of anxiety wash over him as he ran his hand through his hair for the tenth time, making his hair puff up. Isabelle, who sat at the ledge of her window, looked over at him and said, "Stop walking back and forth, you're making me dizzy just looking at you. I swear when you disappeared all Clary would do was sit on my bed while she stared at her knees, it was almost impossible to get a reaction from her. But all you're doing is walking around and making frustrated grunts and groans. Oh put your hand down, tearing your hair out isn't going to help either you know?"

Jace sat on Isabelle's bed, a plush mattress with a purple cover bedazzled with rhinestones and about a million pillows, in a heap and groaned some more. "I swear, what are they doing in there? Talking isn't going to do anything! We need action, hunting. By the Angel! " He covered his face with a sparkly pillow and moaned.

Isabelle hopped off her perch and in a few short strides, took the pillow off of him, and threw it back down on his face. Hard.

"OW!" Jace exclaimed. "My face! You damaged it, do you know how many women will gasp at the sight of what you've done" he rubbed his cheek, where the impression of a rhinestone now dominated.

"There, that's more like you. Self-centered and thinking the world revolves around you." Isabelle smirked, and kicked at his leg that dangled off of the bed with one high heeled foot. "Now get up, I'd thought you would have taken some initiative by now. This is so unlike you Jace Lightwood. To just mope around here instead of doing something. You know, even Clary made some effort in trying to find you." Isabelle taunted.

Jace knew that Isabelle was only trying to cheer (or Isabelle's way of cheering) up, but at the thought of Clary, hopefully searching for him while he was possessed by Sebastian, placed a heavy load on his already ton of guilt. Clary did everything she could to find him, now it was his turn.

"Alright," he said, now with a new determination that glowed in his eyes, before where hopelessness had lain.

The only reason Clary found him was because he showed himself to her, so how were they going to find her? These were thoughts that took over Jace's mind at night, these past two sleepless nights. But now there was no time to waste.

He waited by the door as Isabelle put on about twenty accessories, applied about ten pounds of heavy makeup, and put on a black leather jacket over her blue skin tight dress. If Jace were an ordinary guy, he'd think that all he saw was a hot babe, one that he could enjoy several awesome nights with. But he knew better, he was Izzy's adopted brother, and he knew that somehow, even with all that skin tight clothing, Izzy hid some serious weaponry behind all that. Her electrum whip was coiled around her left wrist, making it look like a stack of golden bracelets. Jace had fought against that whip once, and he didn't like the memory of how it sounded when it wacked across his skin.

Last time he ever played a joke on Isabelle.

As they walked down the halls of the Institute, only the sound of Izzy's stiletto heels echoing off the walls accompanied them. They walked to the doors of the library, Jace checking his watch. The meeting was supposed to end at noon. It was about forty minutes past that. These people really know how to drag things along…

Jace was tired of waiting. He took out his stele, getting a curios look from Izzy, and drew a rune on the back of his hand. When she saw it, Izzy placed her hand on his, as Jace pushed his hand onto the door. The rune was to help them hear what was going on inside.

At first, Jace couldn't make out anything, but then voices began to clear through as if he was right next to them. Several voices were arguing, none that Jace knew, but he quickly made sense of the argument.

"There's no doubt what Jonathan Christopher can do, now that he has his sister. We all know that Clarissa Morgenstern-" The person was cut off by a voice that sounded like Jocelyn.

"She is not Morgenstern, by law she is Fray!" The only reason Jocelyn was allowed there was because of Luke's place in the council, and the fact that her daughter was the captive in the situation. Other than that, the fact that she left the life of the Shadowhunters weighs heavily on her by everyone else.

A different voice spoke now, one with more authority. The counsel, probably. "Mrs. Morgenstern, or Ms. Fairchild, or whatever you prefer. Your daughter was born under your marriage with Valentine Morgenstern, so therefore the court will hold her as Morgenstern. We also have no care for human laws, for that is the only thing that can prove your daughter as Fray."

Jocelyn said nothing.

"As for what I was saying," said the first voice, "We all know that Clarissa has a special gift for creating runes, it is possible that Jonathon may want to use his sister's ability to his advantage."

More voices rang out, and Jace could only catch little snippets of what they were saying.

"We can't let that happen-"

"She must be stopped-"

"She could be harmed-"

A voice spoke louder amongst them though, causing everyone to stop and listen.

"I think we all are taking this the wrong way. We all agree with what Jace Lightwood said, Clarissa had willingly agreed to go with her brother. What if she left to become partners with him? Blood runs thicker than water, and her blood is the blood of Valentine. Perhaps she has felt called to join her brother in whatever hideous deeds he performs."

More gasps sounded from the room, and Jace could barely hear Jocelyn and Luke as they tried to tell everyone that Clary would never do that. That she isn't anything like her brother.

But their arguments were cut off by the same voice that had spoken before. "Perhaps Clarissa did not have those intentions when she had left, but who knows, maybe Jonathan has transformed his sister into one of his Demon Shadowhunters? Based off of accounts of those who have seen the, maybe now Clarissa will be seen with her brother's pitch black eyes."

More shouts and arguing. Jace could feel his nails biting into the wooden door, as well as Izzy's hand squeezing his, trying to comfort him.

"The meeting will end here!" The counsel shouted, "For now we have reached an agreement: the Morgenstern siblings must be found and captured. There is no telling what they are capable of doing. All Institutes will send their Shadowhunters to search places around their areas, any reports will come straight to me. If you find them, capture them, and if not possible, rid the world of them."

Jace couldn't move. If it weren't for Isabelle, who grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the door and back towards her room where they would wait for Alec, he would have been trampled by the Shadowhunters that rushed out of the Library. He felt numb, as his mind slowly processed everything that he had just heard.

When Alec walked in, and sat at the little chair that Izzy had in front of her vanity mirror, a blaze of thoughts going on in his dark blue eyes, his black hair a mess. Jace could hardly control his emotions. He was known for a calm expression, someone who could be annoyingly normal when things went crazy. But when he asked Alec, even he could hear the desperation coming from his voice, "So what happened, what are they going to do?" Even though he had just heard what was going on, he needed to know it was a lie. He had misheard.

Alec took a breath before starting. "First it was all strategy talk; they came up with a number of places that Sebastian could be in. They settled on the fact that he's probably in another one of those houses that you were in with him and Clary."

Jace nodded. He expected as much.

Alec continued, "Then they talked to all of the representatives of the Downworlders, Luke confirmed that he and everyone in his pack had nothing to do with Sebastian, Jordan had already said that nothing in the Praetor Lupis has been associated with him either. The Vampires also told everyone that haven't interacted with him in any way. It was the fairies that took the most time in asking because everyone made sure to ask the representative in every single way they could to make sure they weren't just twisting their words."

Of course, those little weasels know how to slip through every loophole….

"The everyone started talking about the reason why Clary went with Sebastian in the first place." Alec's eyes got an angry glint in them when he said Sebastian. Even though he appeared to well, even Alec would never forgive Sebastian for murdering his little brother.

Alec had stopped talking. "Then what?" Jace asked furiously. "What did they come up with?"

Alec slowly meet Jace's gaze, cautious with his words. "They think that Clary is in alliance with Sebastian, and they think it's best if they just," he swallowed, and sat up from his slouch, "if they just get rid of Clary and Sebastian."

Jace was still. His mind had gone blank, like the calm before a storm. Isabelle immediately walked to the door and opened it. She left the room, for what, who cares.

It wasn't a lie. It was real. They wanted to kill Clary, just because they think she's a menace to them. Jace walked over to one of Isabelle's walls, and punched his right fist straight through it.

"J-J-Jace!" Alec stood up and in two long strides grabbed his left arm before he could punch it into the wall too.

"DamnitDamnitDamnit!" Jace left his right arm where it was, and could feel the blood coursing down his knuckles where he split them. Alec drew a quick iratze on his wrist and made him sit down.

"Do you have to hurt yourself? Really Jace? Is this what you're going to do in times like this?!" Alec demanded as Jace stared at his shoes. Clary had bought them for him, but not before she drew on them. The front right toe had an angel with a sword in its right hand. The shoelaces had a rainbow pattern on them, below his ankle was a seven-tailed fox. "It's Naruto" she had said simply when he had asked. Under the shoe, Toy story style, she had drawn her name in bubble letters filled with color blends and patterns, the Y curling around her name. On the other shoe, she had done Jace's name, much in the same way. The left and right shoes were with different things, but his white shoes were bursting with color. Flames licked the tongue of his right shoe, and waved crashed on his left shoe's tongue. He had complained about them when she gave them to him in the infirmary, saying that someone badass like him couldn't kill demons with nyan cat drawn on his shoes, but he hadn't taken them off since. He was extra careful to make sure he never scuffed or ruined them, even though she said it was okay, that she'd made them with special colors and had even drawn a rune on them to make sure they would last.

They were precious to him, just like she was.

Couldn't Alec see that? No he couldn't , because Jace had trained himself to not easily show emotion like that.

When Isabelle walked back, she sighed at the hole in her wall. "Oh well, I was wondering what I could put there to make it look nicer anyway."

She tossed Jace and Alec a weapon's belt. "What's this for?" Alec asked.

"We're going out. Simon's waiting at Taki's and he wants to talk to us." She walked back to the door. "Well? Am I just supposed to stand here and look gorgeous? Let's. Go!"

Jace put on his weapons belt just as his parabatai did. Together they left the Institute without telling anyone. Jace internally wondered what Simon would want, and then felt guilty as he realized that he was probably as anxious as Jace was. Simon was Clary's childhood friend, and Jace was jealous of the fact of how close she and him were. Izzy had told him that she told Simon to accompany Clary while he was missing, and Jace felt both upset and grateful for that. If anyone knows Clary, it's Simon.

Clary POV

Chris was right. When Clary opened her black eyes, she felt much better. Her fever was gone, and it was easier to swallow. Her nose didn't feel as congested anymore, so she breathed deeply, savoring the fact that she didn't have to breathe through her mouth anymore. It was just uncomfortable.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't anything since the night before, and this morning the prospect of food seemed unthinkable. Clary always thought it was weird that in a time where your body needs nutrition the most, it will reject the food given to it. She remembered when she was little and had the stomach flu, she wanted to eat her cereal that she ate every morning, but couldn't get more than two mouthfuls in before she felt so sick that she had to throw up everything that she had in her system before she felt better, but how was that supposed to help if then you don't have anything in your body to provide energy for you?

Sigh, the thoughts of sick teenager in bed…

She tried to sit up, when all of a sudden a painful throb went through her head, she was stuck in a strange position, her back almost levitating from lying down to full siting position, but if she moved at all, the pounding in her head came back.

Wincing at every time a throb went up, Clary slowly and carefully sat up, holding her left temple with her hand. So much for being better….. She stood up, and glanced at the clock that Chris had put this morning. It was past noon, no wonder she was hungry. She unplugged the humidifier and dragged her feet across the carpeted floor and down the hall and stairs to the kitchen. All the while trying to prevent her head from flaring up with pain.

She opened up all the cabinets, not having a clue as to what she should eat, so the magical cabinet gave her loads of choices. Though Clary felt better, and knew that while her body was hungry, it might also just spew back anything she put into it. There were some foods that just by looking at it, she knew that her stomach wouldn't approve. She poured a glass of milk, but couldn't get more than a few sips past. Pouring the milk back into the jug, she eyed the bread in a cabinet, and thought maybe some toast would settle in her stomach. Clary was going to add jam, but it seemed too much for her, so she munched on dry toast and drank plain water.

Not at all like yesterday's amazing breakfast.

Clary turned around, aiming for the couch, but she stubbed her toe on corner of the island that served as a countertop to cook in the kitchen. On the impact she had let go of the glass of water, and in her quick movements to catch it before it smashed to the ground, she head throbbed with such an enormous and sudden pound that Clary stopped and just let the glass break onto the floor. Little shards moved everywhere, and for a second, Clary could see everything move in slow motion. The glass upon touching the floor, seemed to look like it was going to sink into it like quicksand, but that was just the glass breaking into a million pieces, little cracks running along everywhere, until the glass seemed to explode, shards of it flying into all directions.

That was when time snapped back into focus, and Clary heard the sound of the glass breaking. She held her head with one hand, her bread forgotten on the island, she could feel her toe pulsing. She was only wearing socks, and there was glass everywhere, the thought of walking with glass embedded in the sock while she walked gave her nausea, so she stayed where she was, and slowly, pulled herself onto the island, leaving one foot dangling over the counter, while she cradled the other and carefully removed the sock.

Ouch. She hadn't just bumped her big toe, the nail was broken, and bleeding, and the tip of the toe was purple, she looked down at it, her white hair falling down around her so that it created a sort of curtain for her face. Clary was glad for that, because her long hair managed to surround her toe as well. When Clary heard footsteps coming from, from the wall?

No. They were coming from a part in the wall where the door to go into the training room was. Clary rummaged in the drawers that were in the sides of the island, looking for bandages. Sure enough even those worked the same way, and Clary peeled back the packaging and wrapped the bandage around her toe before Chris could come through the door that appeared out of nowhere in the wall. His face was screwed into a frown, his left hand held blade that Clary faintly remembered seeing hanging on one of the pillars supporting the roof of the turret that was their training room.

He looked at the ground first, then at her. The frown was gone, but he still looked armed and ready.

"No one broke in you know, I just dropped a glass." Clary said what she thought was the thing on his mind.

If it was, she couldn't tell. He simply thrust the sword into its strap that was slung over his back, and walked across the glass on combat boots to her.

"Why are you on the table?" He asked.

"Well there's glass everywhere, and I'm only wearing socks." She said no more, as she tucked her hair behind her ears. He shrugged as he walked to a closet door, and began to sweep up the glass. She stayed on the island, keeping unusually calm and quiet.

"What happened to your toe?" He asked, not looking at her ass he threw all the shards into the plastic trashbin.

"I hit it on the corner, that's why I dropped the glass." Clary made sure she didn't sound too calm, so she whined "And my head is pounding. I have this really bad throb and I don't know where it came from." She grabbed the bread that was on the counter and began munching on it, and finished it.

Chris chuckled, "Clary, Clary. I never took you for the clumsy type. Next time, maybe you shouldn't stab your toe into the corner."

Clary prickled and suddenly said. "Maybe I only did because I have your traits due to the rune."

Chris gave her look, and Clary internally smacked herself for saying that. But he only put his hand on her foot, his fingers which were always hot, sending warmth onto her foot. Taking a stele from his weapons belt, he drew an iratze on her heel, and she felt the ache that had started in her toe fade.

Chris's fingers went for the Band-Aid on her toe. "What are you doing?" She asked a little too quickly.

"Taking off your bandage," He said as he peeled the Band- Aid back, "I don't know how bad it was but the wound should be healed by now."

Clary held her breath. But a deep wave of relief hit her when Chris had taken the bandage off, and her toe was bag to normal. She tried to not show it too much.

Chris gave her a hand as she scooted to jump off the counter. Clary almost waved him off, but in retrospect, it did seem better if she accepted his help. Taking his hand, she hopped to the floor, and even though her toe was better, she still mindfully managed her weight so that none of the pressure was on it.

Chris looked at her up and down, then he walked over to one of the cabinets and said, "You're looking better, do you want to train first and then eat, or eat then train, I want to see the power that that rune has lent you."

He faced her again with a bag of bread and mineral water, something Clary knew she could eat without retching. She twisted her lips in thought. "At the same time, I can eat and throw a knife at the wall, just let me change first, these clothes smell like I've coughed in them."

"How is that supposed to smell? And if it does, how do you know how it smells like?" Chris teased her as she went up the stairs.

"I don't know, maybe it just does ,okay." Clary walked into the hallway, found her room, and closed the door carefully. She leaned against, and released the sigh of relief that she had been holding in.

Why had she been acting so funny around Chris? What was hiding? Why was she so weary about him seeing her cut? Clary walked over to the drawer under the vanity table and removed the clothes she was wearing. Standing in only her bra and panties, she pinched her knee, hard, stabbing it with her fingernail. Clary winced, self- caused pain hurt more than normal pain for some reason. But then she looked at her knee, the new wound that was there.

So she hadn't imagined it. It wasn't that Clary hadn't wanted Chris to see her wound, she didn't want him to see her blood. Clary walked to the bathroom, making sure none of the drops would hit the carpet, by the time she had a piece of toilet paper in her hand, a thick blob of her blood looked like it had coagulated, but it really was just a bubble. She wiped it off and was going to flush the paper down the toilet. Clary always saw her red blood whenever she had cuts, scrapes. Lots and lots of red.

But this blood, was black.

Lacie: Dun-dun DUN!

Clary: Wait. What, how is that even possible! Why do I have black blood?

Lacie: There's actually a really simple reason to it but I just thought it would be fun for people to imagine why you now have black blood.

Clary: But why black blood? First you change my appearance and now my BLOOD

Lacie: I'm rewatching Soul Eater okay? I just love it Maka's reaction to the black blood when she's fighting Crona XD

Clary: At least you didn't make me insane.

…

Lacie: Oh right Chris isn't here, I expected him to say something like "you can't become what you already are" or something

Clary: Lacie watch it.

Lacie: Fine. So Lacie's adored readers, what did you think about this week's chapter? Sorry it wasn't as long as last week's, the chapter lengths depend on what I put in them.

Clary: Review, comment, favorite, follow, you now, do that stuff. It'll make her so happy.