Lacie: Hi Guys! :D Just to get this out of the way, someone asked if my bio pic was a picture of Alois Trancy from black butler, I don't know how that happened, but no, my pic is of Alyss, the will of the abyss from Pandora Hearts. Sadly I haven't watched Black Butler yet. DON'T SHOOT.

Clary: Watch as people go to your profile to check it out. Anyway, you seem happy

Lacie: It must be the holiday season finally looking me in the eye. I just haven't been jolly and all peppy lately, but now I feel great *spins in her chair*

Clary: *doesn't know what to do so starts spinning as well* Weeeeeeeee

Chris: You're going to fall

Lacie: No we won't!

Chris: 5…..4…3…..2…1 *sticks out feet on both of them and tips their chairs*

Clary: Hey! *falls onto Chris's lap*

Lacie: *falls flat on her face* Owww…..*rubs nose and glares at Chris* You cheater! *rolls up newspaper that appears out of nowhere and smacks across the face with it*

Chris: Ouch, that actually hurt…..*wraps arms around Clary's middle and holds face to her back* comfort me Clary from this pain.

Clary: *squirms* Let me go please

Chris: No. *rubs nose on Clary's back*

Clay: He's touching me. HE'S TOUCHING ME. I don't like, no ewwuurrgggg…..

Chris: But we're dating….

Clary: LIKE HELL WE ARE. I DECLARE THIS MOMENT A NO-NO. NOW RELEASE ME

Lacie: a no-no? hmmm…

Chris: Oh, this moment huh? *turns Clary around so that Chris cradles her like a baby and covers her eyes with one hand* How about this moment?

Clary: I..I. du..urhue *stutters* LACIE! CHRIS IS SEXUALLY HARRASING ME

*lacie is nowhere to be found*

Clary: *gulps* Lacie?

Chris: You call this sexual harassment? Allow me to show you MY definition of sexual harassment…

Clary: *squirms and hyperventilates* SOS …..someone….

Chris: *about to do something that Lacie shall not write on her story*

Lacie: *comes in with a huge stamp that says NO-NO on it and stamps it down onto Chris's face* NOW THAT'S A NO-NO

Lacie-Abyss does not own TMI or any of its characters but she does own demon clary and chris and other things so, you know, hands off of my property and clart…

Enjoy!

Clary POV

Clary could feel the ground of the Parthenon beneath her face, her eyes staring at the pool of her black blood, now stained with demon poison. She stared at Jace's face, which seemed farther away and more blurry every time she tried to focus on it. The burn of a stele was at her elbow, before she the edges of her vision faded away into nothing, and a black, endless void opened before her…..

Clary woke up panting, feeling like something was missing, and she would have sat straight up, flinging the blankets that were cradled across her chest straight off, had not she felt the feel of a leather strap biting into her stomach and a metal chains wrapping around her ankles and wrists, keeping them pinned down to her sides and leaving her legs stretched out on the bed that she was apparently lying on. She was left staring at cracked ceiling decorated with rune upon rune.

She wriggled in her restraints to see if she could get loose, when her eyes caught sight of some blue. That was when she realized what was missing.

She couldn't feel her left arm. (Lacie: by the way the arm with the rune on it is the left, I think, but anyway the poisoned arm is not the same as the runed one) It was as if it wasn't even there, but she was staring it. She adjusted her head to get a better look at it, and lo and behold, there lay her blue arm.

Someone had cut the sleeve of her shirt off, so that her whole arm, from shoulder down, was exposed. Starting from just below her scapula, her arm faded from her regular pale skin color, to smurf like, to a dark, blue royal blue. Her finger tips were so dark they looked black. Did she even have a pulse in that arm? Her palm was face down, leaving her unable to see if her gash was still there, and she couldn't move her arm, which scared her. Would she have to be amputated? What's wrong with her arm? She knew it was demon poison, but would the Clave really just let her rot until her whole body was blue and looked like an avatar? Though that would be cool, but she couldn't move!

She also couldn't feel, at all. Meaning that she wasn't in pain either. But did that mean she was okay? Clary had seen and read about people who had gotten intense and fatal injuries, such as falling meters off a tall cliff onto rocks and breaking your knee cap and dislocating all this stuff, yet the body was in such danger that the brain shut off all nerves so that the person wouldn't feel anything and be able to save themselves. Was that what her body was doing? Telling her to hurry the hell up and save herself before she was a walking corpse?

I'll be the corpse bride….Only no one will want to marry me…..

She had to stop it with the blue character jokes. Her brain must really be trying to protect her, because despite not being in pain, she felt nervous. Her fingers were twitching, from the hand she could move, and her eyes fluttered from here to there.

Suddenly in occurred to her, how long had she been here? There was no window in the cell she was in, only witchlight that slightly helped her vision. She was in a five by four room with bars and a door on one side and walls on the others. This bed seemed to be right in the middle of it, which meant that normally it wasn't in this place, so they must have rolled her in with it.

But was it still evening? How long had she been out? Hesitantly, she glanced at her runed arm, where the clock rune should still be on her arm if not a lot of time has passed between her knocking out and waking up. Her sleeve was pulled down on the arm, and she couldn't bring her arm up because of the chain, so she used her teeth to pull up the sleeve from her shoulder, and when it was up enough, she lifted and turned what little she could move her hand, and looked at where the rune should be. It was still on the eleven, but how? Shouldn't it have moved already? How long had it been?

Abruptly, Clary felt as if someone as coming, that strange feeling that no one can explain, and she twisted her am, making it so that the sleeve fell back down. She turned her wrist towards her for added protection.

Her heart pounding, she made her eyes look upward. Should she pretend to still be asleep? No, whoever this was, if they wanted something out of her, she wouldn't give it. If anything, she should something out from them.

Deciding to look the intruder in the eye when they came, she looked to the side, where the bars of the cell were visible to her. It was dark in the cell, the only witchlight to illuminate the dark, but her eyes had adjusted to it already.

As the figure approached, Clary tried to mask her face into one of quiet rage, hiding all of her thoughts inside, when Simon came in front of her cell and all masks fell to the ground.

She looked at her best friend for the first time in practically two weeks, yet it felt like as if a long abyss had gaped out between them. Simon and she had been through some pretty tough scenarios together, and throughout all of them their friendship had stayed strong. She hoped it still would, because she couldn't bear to lose Simon. He was a part of her, he was her childhood, her lifelong companion. It had always been Simon and Clary, Clary and Simon, even after she discovered her Shadowhunter roots, he was never far from reach. Nothing showed true friendship like discovering your best friend is part angel, turning into a rat, getting your feelings crushed, then fixed, then crushed again, then turned into a vampire, then stolen by your friend's dad to be used as a sacrifice, then becoming an ultrarare Daylighter, then fighting in a war with creatures just a few months ago you never knew existed and having your mother hate you while your friend's new friends are constantly making fun of you.

And yet they were still friends, hopefully.

Clary looked him head to toe, noticing that his clothes were caked in mud and blood, ripped on some areas. His hair was disheveled, as if he hadn't bothered to fix it, not that he ever does, but looked extra shaken up. She remembered seeing him at the Parthenon, but not what he was doing. Another wedge of guilt slipped into her chest. Simon wasn't a fighter, but he had fought because he had to, not because he wanted to, and all because of her.

"Hey," Simon finally spoke, gripping his hands on the bars in front of him as if they weren't part of her imprisonment, as if this was completely normal. She admired him for trying. "How are you feeling? You look kind of blue."

Despite herself, she cracked a smile, it was Simon after all. Seeing her smile, Simon's shoulders lifted a bit, as if he was afraid of what her reaction would have been. He probably had been.

"Thanks for that, really," she chuckled.

"Want more?" he continued, "I don't want to offend you, but you look like your arm was replaced by the Genie's from Aladdin."

"Really? I like to think I'm turning into a Na'vi from Avatar. I prefer to be tall and one with nature than a singing, form changing genie." She quipped.

"Damnit, Avatar was my next one." Simon cursed, trying to look disappointed.

"Well we did watch the movie together, in which, by the way, you would not stop talking throughout the whole time about 'the science' of the place." Clary mocked.

"Well is it my fault really? I mean a place where the air is unbreathable yet has resources to help us? That doesn't make sense to me." Simon restarted the conflict. Clary wasn't even going to start the fact that Simon had a C-average in science and didn't know what he was talking about.

"Speaking of places," she said casually, "where am I? Where are we?" She shook her chained arm, "I wake up here and I know nothing of what's going on."

"Well what did you expect? A tour guide handing you a brochure?" Seeing Clary's glare, he changed his answer, "We're in Alicante- yes I'm not kidding don't ask twice- and you wouldn't believe all the trouble everyone went to in order to get us all here."

The word Alicante, sucked all the playful and casual mood around her. Despite that the wanted to act like this, she wanted to talk with Simon as if nothing in the world was wrong, but when you came down to it, she was in a cell, her cell, strapped and chained in a bed because of something she did. There was no time for causal play.

"I hate to get all serious, but let's face it Simon, how can we be joking right now?" her face was somber, and Simon quickly reciprocated her mood, his smile gone.

"Alright." He said. He walked off a few steps, out of Clary's vision, making her curious as to where he was going, when he came back with a metal chair. Upon seeing her look, he said, "What? You're in a bed, might as well sit down."

She stared at him through the bars, "Jealous of my luxurious bed?" she jiggled her chains again.

He sat down with the chair backwards, resting his arms on the back rest. "Okay, I feel like you have questions, and I'll try to answer them as quickly as I can and as best as I can, I don't know everything, we may not have much time."

"What? Why?"

"That's a question I can answer later. What are your other questions?"

Clary breathed in first, before asking, "What happened? After I was knocked out, I mean, all I remember was getting cut by a blade and getting poison in me, I should be dead right now, but I'm not. And if we're in Alicante, no offense, but why did they let you here?"

Simon processed all of her questions, then answered her, "After you passed out, it was mass chaos. All of the Demon Shadowhunters just got up and left, as if it was something they were trained to do when their master is down, and some of us still wanted to fight them. Most got away, but some were killed, and no, people weren't killed on the field from my side, not during the fight, but some of them have some pretty serious injuries, I don't know how they'll come out of that." Clary took a deep breath. She suspected just as much. She noticed how he said my side, not our side, as if waiting for her to correct him. She didn't.

He went on, though, "Your mom was going crazy, some people had to take her and hold her down as some people surrounded you and Sebastian. I couldn't see you through the circle of Shadowhunters, so I hopped onto the roof, and I managed to see and overhear that they would place some sort of spell on you. It would stop the poison from spreading, pause its effects on you which is why you have a dead hand that you can't feel anything, even pain from, until they decided what to do with you. They argued too, some people wanted to kill you guys then and there, and believe me, all of them had the weapons to do it. But they got all conflicted, some of them wanted to punish Sebastian by torturing him, others wanted to mentally crush him, and it was decided that they would have a discussion about it. Here, in Alicante. You'd think that after what he did here they wouldn't think twice about bringing him in again."

"As for what I'm doing here, the Clave immediately after that had a huge Portal opened, where practically everyone could sneak into. They let some seriously injured Downworlders in, but they were too preoccupied with the situation to notice one cunning and extremely quick as ninjas vampires jump in."

Clary smiled, "Didn't they notice you later on though?"

"Oh yeah, but then I argued that half of our little army consisted of vampires I brought in, so I helped a lot, plus you're my friend, I deserved to be let in. Being a Daylighter also helped a little….."

"Wait!" she stopped him, "All those vampires were because of you!"

He waved her off, "I'll explain that stuff later. Anyway, they shoved everyone into a huge building that's like a courtroom, including me and the Lightwoods as well, and they all started talking in big fancy words that I'll spare for you. The short version is, they're deciding what to do with you guys, and they're deciding fast. They want to get all of this over with. I was getting really bored there though, so I snuck out, and found where they hid you so that I could see how you were doing." He looked at her affectionately, and Clary couldn't help but wonder at all the pain she must have caused him. She's been asking all the questions, but he hasn't asked a single one about her, which she truly dreaded, but knew that he was burning to ask, but hadn't yet in order to know how she was doing.

He'd been dragged to Athens, and Alicante, he probably did everything he could to stand up in a place where Shadowhunters were the most important, doing everything he could to find out where she was. All of that, and she sends D.S to go after them.

How can he still be here? How was it that after everything that's happened, he was still here, a constant in her life. After everything she's made him go through, and yet he always was within her grasp. Clary hated herself, for dragging Simon into her world of up's and down's. Hated herself for forcing him to have to experienced everything he's experienced.

Without noticing, she felt her eyes burn, and she felt a tear roll down her cheek. She quickly ducked her head into her shoulder, rubbing it off.

"Clary, what's wrong? Does your arm hurt?" he knew that wasn't it though.

"Simon," she croaked, "Do you hate me?"

The question burned rolling off her tongue, as it settled between them, like a match that was ready to start tremendous fires, or one that can be easily put out. "Are you mad at me?"

Simon hadn't blinked, staring at her with a neutral expression, and when he opened his mouth, he spoke, "Why?"

"Why?" she mimicked, "Because I've been acting, like, like this! I'm not the same Simon. I can't see myself, but I'm pretty sure my eyes are still black, like Chr-Sebastian." She said Chris before, in front of everyone, but it didn't feel right to say it to Simon. "I've done all these things, you don't even know, I dragged you into this hell of a mess, and you've just been trying to help a friend who doesn't even know where she stands anymore."

She felt more tears but she blinked them aside. She wouldn't cry, she needed to be serious.

Simon looked down, his head hung, and Clary was ready for the worst, but when he looked up, his face was smiling, hitting Clary with unexpected nostalgia, "Clary, we've known each other for ten years, throughout that time, I've come to know more about you than you or I will even admit. We've been together through our worst and best of days, we went through puberty together, not at the same times of course, but after all the teasing and joking we've made, I'm surprised that after that we still wanted to hangout." He looked at her, and with a softer voice said, "If I give up on you now, it means that all we went through was for nothing, and I'm not ready to give up on that. Ten years ago we promised to be best friends forever no matter what happens, no matter how much you think you've changed, and I will hold you on that promise for as long as you live."

There were no words for how happy that made Clary. It was as if a flower of joy and relief had sprung in the midst of all of her guilt and anger, illuminating the heavy weight she'd been carrying.

All you really need in life is just one friend, and if you've got them, there's really nothing to worry about. It doesn't matter what hell you live in, what messed up maelstrom you have to trudge through, you have that one person to live for, and Clary would never be able to show Simon just how much she was thankful for him.

"Simon," her voice quivered.

"Hey, I love you, you know that right?" he asked.

She couldn't speak, so she nodded earnestly.

"Alright, now that we got that out of the way, what else do you want to know?"

There was one particular question that Clary had been dying to ask, but wasn't sure how to bring it up, in fear of how Simon would react. But, what the hell, he just said he'd love her no matter what, as would she, had their roles been reversed.

"Actually yeah," she cleared her throat, "What happened to Chris? What are they going to do to him?" This time she said Chris purposely. She didn't know how she would explain Chris to Simon, but one way or another, he'd understand.

Simon licked his lips as if they were dry, a habit, "I don't know what happened between you and Sebastian, but, I won't question you, not now anyway." He looked at her through lowered lashes, "but is it safe to assume that you two, are like, ummmm, friends? Siblings that get along? No longer on 'kill each other mode?'"

She sighed, glad that Simon was getting the idea, "You could say that."

He nodded, a look passing his features, then quickly evaporating, "Well whatever sort of relationship you two have now, the Clave isn't too fond of him, as you can already guess. He's in some other cell, I don't know where, but the Clave really wants to decide what to do with you guys, especially him."

"You keep saying the Clave wants to make their decision now and quickly, but how long have I been out? A day? More?" she asked.

"Man that poison really messed up your sense of time didn't it?" Simon joked, though Clary didn't find it funny so he stopped and answered her seriously. "It's only been about an hour, maybe an hour and ten minutes, since you knocked out."

"What?!" she shrieked, again trying to sit up but finding that the leather strap across her was still there, so she settled for shaking her foot and arm as much as the chains allowed. "You mean to tell me I've only been in here for an hour?!"

"Yup." He nodded.

"Damn," Clary breathed, "They're working fast." Not that she had a plan or anything, but they were working quick. Clary didn't think that she'd see anyone and be locked here for a few days before hearing from anyone, let alone knowing that her fate and Chris's was being discussed this very second.

"There's more," he added, and she knew it wouldn't be good, "I didn't just come here because I was bored, it's because I wanted to talk to you first, know your point of view."

"What do you mean…." She let the sentence hang on.

"I mean that any minute now someone's going to come and get you and possible question you in front of a large audience, both you and Sebastian." He explained, and Clary was too shocked to respond, so Simon ended with, "They'd like to just outright banish all of you, but it wouldn't be a proper court, so they're giving you an opportunity to speak. But either way, they want a decision tonight. They're not giving Sebastian the chance to come up with a way to escape."

Wow, she thought, but not in astonishment, more in defeat. This was it? It couldn't be, could it? Clary could hardly accept it, it was all just happening too fast for it to seem real in her mind. She swore, any second now Chris was going to stroll in, break her bonds and they'd travel off in their home to Beijing, Greenland, Antarctica for all she cared right now. The fact that they were caught just didn't register yet. She felt like they never would until the end.

"Hey, what about our house? Is it still in Athens?" she suddenly wondered.

Simon shook his head, "I didn't see it happen, but I overheard someone saying something about how the magical do-mi-hicky's placed on the thing to keep it from going away failed to work any longer. The place is gone, unless Magnus can find it again."

Clary suspected it had been Magnus, though when he placed the spell on the house, she couldn't even think. At least now the mundanes won't have to question why someone was living in the middle of the Parthenon, though they would have an excellent view if someone did.

"Well then," Simon got up, and before Clary could ask, she heard a feint tapping of shoes, only when she strained her ears though. Simon spoke quietly and quickly, "I'm not exactly supposed to be here, so I'll be going back up. Yes you're underground."

"Hey," she said before he left, "I love you, no matter what."

"Right back at ya Fray. See you in the courtroom." With that he left with super vampire speed, and left Clary for alone for the next thirty seconds, wondering what the Angel she was going to do now.

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Clary was immobilized. She didn't want to look at whoever was taking her, so she fixed her gaze onto the ceiling as someone came into her cell, opened the door, and she felt the press of an iratze on her collarbone. She was glad they did it on her collarbone instead of on her arm, because that would mean rolling up her sleeve and witnessing her rune, and she didn't want to explain that to them, or anyone.

Now she couldn't feel her whole body as her chains and straps were undone and she was practically swung onto the Shadowhunters shoulders. As that occurred she noticed that there were four more Shadowhunters outside her cell, watching with their steles and seraph blade out and in the open, a wordless threat against her that they wouldn't hesitate to stop her if she got violent.

Even with my blue arm I could beat these guys, she suddenly thought, and the thought surprised her, though it was true. Even with no weapons, had it not been for her immobilizing rune, she could have finished these Shadowhunters in no time at all.

As she was carried out, stuck staring at the back of someone's heels and her hair hanging in front of her face, she made it a goal to memorize the turns and hallways and number of steps they made as they passed.

Left turn, down five steps, turn right, second door, up three flights, right, left, down a long corridor, stop at seven steps, open door, go through, turn right, right again…..

She didn't know how she would make use of this information, but she felt as if it was better than simply waiting for someone to make a decision on what to do with her.

Clary was just about to give up on memorizing the twists and turns when they came to a final door, where beyond it, she could hear the sounds of talking.

When the door was opened, a wave of voices fell upon her as if she had been dunked underwater. She couldn't see any of them, but as soon as her happy group of weapon holding buddies stepped into the room, the talking died out to incomprehensible whispers. She couldn't single out a conversation, but she picked up bits and pieces and got the idea of what they were all thinking.

That's her, they all thought, that's the Morgenstern girl.

Her name was Clarissa Fairchild. She knew it, it was her name. But something about the name no longer felt like hers. It felt too clean, too pure.

She felt like the complete opposite of that.

Clary still couldn't see anything, considering that her head lolled to her chest, making her unable to hold it up and see what was before her. They sat her down on a cold concrete floor, one of them holding her by the shoulders to make sure she didn't fall flat on her face, and the two others grabbed her wrist and held them up. She didn't know why they were holding her, it's not like she can exactly go anywhere, when she heard the sound of more chains. Suddenly they yanked her on her feet, or about as on her feet as she could be considering that she had about as much mobility as a rag doll. They lifted up her arms so high she could feel her muscles straining, her bones uncomfortable, and the feel of cold metal wrapped around both of her wrists. They let her go, and from what Clary could tell, there were chains that hung from the ceiling, coming down to end at the cuffs on her wrist. The chains were meant for taller prisoners, because in her rag doll position, the chains were the only thing holding her up, making it feel like her arms were coming out of their sockets, and the toes of her boots barely touched the floor.

The feel of an iratze returned to her collarbone, and suddenly Clary had mobility again. She tried to get a better footing, her wrists in pain, and she wondered how long this was going to take. She looked up, shaking her hair back, because it was hanging in her eyes, making her able to see the white half of it, and when she did, she caught sight of the courtroom.

It was about three quarters the size of a high school football field. She was on one of the long ends, where the goal might have been, on a raised concrete platform that had steps leading up to her chained form. She was on the right side of the long end, and as she looked left, she saw Chris, chained in the exact same way as she was only his feet were firmly planted on the ground.

Their eyes met for a short second, in which Clary wanted to talk to him so badly, ask him what now? Had he planned for this? But an agreement settled across them. No talking, she remembered what he made her promise. If worse comes to worse, she did everything because he had told her to, because he had threatened her. Clary had agreed to it, but she didn't know if she could do it. If she lied, she'd feel like the truth would be written all over her face.

Either way, they had no other plan. Clary looked away as quickly as she had started, and took in the people who stared at her. The place was full of people, many of who she knew, and some of who she recognized, but couldn't put a name to. In the front rows were mostly distinguished Shadowhunters, wearing ceremonial robes and such, behind those were other Shadowhunters, dressed on their gear from the battles based on the dirt and blood that she could see on some.

On a separate row of seats, almost like pews, were the people she knew and cared for. The Lightwoods, Alec, Isabelle, Maryse, and even Robert, were all seated together. They all had somber looking faces, Clary tried not to look them in the eye. Alec was no longer wearing a gauze around his head, which meant he was all healed. Isabelle looked glamorous as ever, a tear in her pants and her wild black hair only adding to the bad ass girl look. None of them smiled at her, but at least Izzy and Alec didn't outright show their hatred for her. In the row behind them sat Luke, making Clary wonder if he had been in the battle earlier, but he probably hadn't been. His arm was around Jocelyn's shoulders, her face grim and expressionless, but Clary knew that look. It was the look she herself made when she was trying to hide everything she was feeling inside.

Behind them, in a row all on his own, was Jace. He wasn't looking at her either, but Clary thought she had caught him looking at her while she wasn't, seeing him turn in the corner of her vision. He focused his stare at Chris, who openly looked at everyone. Out of everyone, Chris was the one who looked the most nonchalant and calmed person in the room, even with his chains. With one knee bent he rested his head on his wrist, looking as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Looking out further into the courtroom, she saw two wide, heavy oak doors, with metal rings in place of doorknobs. There were two Shadowhunters, one on each side of the doors, standing by them, as if watching in case Clary and Chris tried to escape. The walls of the courtroom on her left and right were high, the ceiling being about thirty feet tall, her chains hanging from all the way up there. The upper half of the walls were covered in stained glass windows, almost like in churches, only here there were no religious mosaics. There were images of Raziel coming out of the Mortal Mirror, his sword and cup in hand, and many others of Jonathan Shadowhunter. As well as the windows, running along the wall were columns, one at every three meter interval. Behind one of them, Clary saw Simon, leaning against it, separate from everyone else. He saw her see him, and he offered a bright smile.

He mouthed, I'm here.

Clary didn't smile back, but only because she didn't want the people watching her to wonder why she was smiling when she was caught. Simon nodded though. He understood.

The rest of the courtroom was filled with more Shadowhunters, those who wanted to see the fate of the two Morgenstern siblings, packed the place up.

Clary felt like she on a High school stage, ready for humiliation.

"Ms. Fairchild," A loud voice echoed within the room, as a man dressed in important looking robes approached the steps leading up to her spot.

The Counsel, she thought.

LACIE: I don't remember who in the world was the Counsel at the end of COLS, but since they're always dying and being replaced let's just assume the last one dies too and here's the new guy yayyyy.

The Counsel walked with a cane held in his right hand, using it to help him up the stairs, but Clary felt that the cane was for show. He didn't need as much as Clary needed a wheelchair. He had a long white beard, and a scar slashing across his left eye, or rather, what used to be his left eye.

There was only a gaping hole.

The Counsel made his way towards her, and stood a few feet away from her. "Or would you prefer Morgenstern, now that you have made amends with Jonathan? The Clave has you now under Morgenstern."

Clary didn't know how to respond to that. Her whole life she had been Fray, but now she was Fairchild. She never stopped to consider whether or not she'd kept Valentine's name.

"Clary." She spoke, "Just Clary is fine."

"Well, to be truthfully speaking, I don't care what you call yourself, for the Clave has come to terms as to what should be done with you, hasn't it?" he looked to the Shadowhunters behind him, to see if anyone disagreed, but no one spoke up.

"Good, though we already decided what to do with Jonathan, it is still unsure of as to what shall be your fate." He stroked his beard, which made Clary have to shake the urge to try to pull it and yank it off his face.

"Oh," Chris, no, Sebastian spoke, "And what grand decision has the Clave decided would fall upon me? Torture me until I lose my sanity? Kill me?"

The Counsel walked to Sebastian and looked him dead in the eye, "I think we both know that there are worse fates than death. As for your sanity, I have failed to come upon any evidence to prove whether or not your sanity has been long since broken."

Sebastian's eyes grew cold and wide, and Clary wondered if he would try to lash out, when Sebastian broke into a cold smile, taunting, menacing, and said, "Sanity is for those with a guilty conscious. Tell me oh venerable Counsel, have you a guilty conscious?"

The courtroom was silent, making Clary swear she could hear the clouds rolling in the sky above them. She could taste the tension between the Counsel and Sebastian, as everyone waited for a response. She took the time to study her hand, her chained blue one, which she was glad to have numb, because her other hand was killing her, the chains biting painfully into her as it pulled her up. She felt that by the end of this she'd be two inches taller.

The Counsel walked away from Sebastian, not answering to his mockery, and he visibly took a deep breath.

"Now then Jonathan, I think we all want to know some things, and it's obvious you have the answers-"

"Oh you've come to me for my wisdom? I'm flattered."

"What did you to your sister, Clarissa?"

She rolled her eyes, Clary, she thought, I just told you to call me Clary. It amazed her the small things her mind would focus on when she was in situations such as these. Perhaps to make sure her mind wouldn't explode with complete panic.

"Excuse me?" Sebastian asked.

"Don't play games Jonathan," The Counsel chided, "Your sister's appearance, her eyes are dark black, a clear sign of the effects from drinking from the Infernal Cup. I don't understand what happened to her hair, but it's obvious that some change has happened to her. What have you done?"

Sebastian scoffed, "How can you be so sure I did anything to her at all?" His face gave off an innocent shrug but his eyes were anything but innocent, "What if she did it all on her own free will?"

Clary knew what he was doing. He wanted to pin all the blame on himself but if he blatantly said that he did it, it would seem suspicious. Better to make it look like he was trying to defend himself, at least.

"Did you force Clarissa to do everything you say? To the point where she would turn against us and fight her own people?"

He rolled his eyes, "Why all these nonsensical questions? As I said, you have no knowledge if she did all of this on her own will or not. Why would she listen to me-"

"Look at her Jonathan!" the Counsel suddenly shouted, making Sebastian turn his head towards Clary. She was looking down, but met his eye through the corner of er vision.

"Do you this?" the Counsel questioned, "her eyes are black, just as yours, just as your demonic blood. We have witnesses who say that her blood is black, how is that possible? What horrible experiment did you conduct on her?!"

Sebastian didn't respond, but then he spoke in a low voice still audible throughout the whole courtroom, "What business do you have to know what I do with my family?"

The Counsel was breathing heavily through his nostrils, clutching his cane as if he wanted to stab it through Sebastian's arteries. Alec suddenly stood up, slowly, as afraid the Counsel would direct his fury towards him.

"Counsel," he addressed.

The Counsel turned, and said in a not so calm voice, "Yes, Alexander Lightwood, you wish to say something?"

"I only want to let everyone know that when I was in Athens, Clary attacked me. She was hidden behind a rock in the ruins, when she came out of hiding and approached me. At first I thought she had escaped, but when I asked her, she said she didn't escape. That's when I saw Jonathan, watching her. Clary then attacked me, knocking me out by smashing the back of my head on the ground. I suspect that Jonathan had told her to attack me, because she looked a bit edgy, almost as if she didn't know what she was doing."

Clary was surprised. She glanced at Alec, but couldn't read him. He had added to their cause, helping Sebastian in what he was trying to accomplish.

She didn't feel like what they were doing was right, she felt like she was being seen as too clean as what she felt she was. She HAD chosen Sebastian, or Chris, but here they were saying that she was only his puppet. Now to see how the Clave would respond.

The Counsel nodded at Alec's claim, and he stood in front of everyone for a moment, looking at everyone in robes below him. Slowly, they all nodded, and Clary could feel a nervous flutter in her belly.

"It had been decided," the Counsel announced, "what will come to happen to these two siblings."

He looked at both of them, looking first at Sebastian, then looking at Clary, "These two siblings who were raised apart, and brought together in such strange events. Now they are accomplices, and partners in what they have tried to do. Considering that there is no known way to return Clarissa back to how she originally was, she shall receive the same punishment as Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern. That is my verdict."

The words were barely registering in her head when Jace shot up in his seat. "Counsel! You can't do that, she's a victim, how could you punish her for something she didn't have a choice in!"

"Jace Lightwood, you should be aware that it is because of my decision that you are in the courtroom in the first place, considering that you are not of age yet. Sit down before I dismiss you."

"But, Counsel!-"

"Sit down." The Counsel spoke with a finality that made Jace eye him with hatred, as he reluctantly sat down.

Jocelyn spoke up, also standing. Clary could see the suppressed tears in her eyes before she blinked and they were gone. For some reason, Clary couldn't find it in her to feel sad for her mother. She could have sworn she felt her numb arm throb in response to her mother's voice.

"Counsel, please, perhaps there is a way, we just haven't found it. Look at Jace Lightwood, we thought that we would never be able to separate him from Jonathan, and see the results." She tried to convince him.

It suddenly occurred to Clary that everyone already knew what their punishment was.

Everyone except for them.

"Jocelyn Fairchild, I understand your role as a mother. But facts are facts, my decision on this point is made." The Counsel said sternly.

Jocelyn looked as if the world had split into two right in front of her. She stared at the Counsel, until in a defeated voice she said, "At least, could you heal her of her arm. Please, as a mother, heal her please."

The Counsel looked to the front rows of Shadowhunters, and they all discussed with each other quietly. Slowly, one of them stood, and it wasn't until then that Clary noticed the parchment like robes.

A Silent brother….

Soundlessly, the Silent Brother crept up the steps and made his way towards her. His hood was pulled over so much that Clary couldn't even see through the shadow obscuring his face.

Hello Clary, she thought she recognized the voice.

Brother Zachariah? She thinks.

Don't worry, they can't hear us. I'm going to remove the spell on you that prevents the poison from spreading, alright?

Wouldn't that take a warlock, though, she asked.

This spell is practically a rune, so it can be countered. He explained. There is a way for me to remove the poison in your arm, it'll take a few seconds though, and in those seconds you may feel sick, but I'll work on it as quick as I can.

Okay.

Do you trust me?

A lot more than most of the other people in this room, she admitted, thinking of the Counsel.

Alright, are you ready? He asked, and Clary thought she saw the corner of a smile beneath his hood. A kind smile, one that she would have liked to see.

She nodded.

Brother Zachariah went to work, and suddenly Clary felt feint again. She slumped over completely, the chains the only thing holding her up again. This caused not only her non-poisoned arm to hurt, but it practically sent her poisoned one aflame.

She felt pain in every nerve of her right arm, feeling as if every blood cell were exploding and being overtaken by the blue poison. Her palm was wet with blue stained blood, the cut now open again and pouring out fresh thin rivulets of blood as it poured down her arm, staining her shirt even more.

Hang in there Clary, Brother Zachariah supported, Almost done.

He projected an image of the rune he would use to get rid of the poison, and Clary knew it would work, but something suddenly appeared to her. In the back of her mind, she saw another rune, an advancement of the one Zachariah was about to use.

Wait, she thought amidst the pain that bombarded her mind, use this one. She thought of the image in her mind, hoping that he could see it. How she could come up with a rune without her angel blood, she didn't know. Perhaps she never lost the ability to do it.

Did you come up with this? He asked.

Yes, just now. Hurry… the poison was quick. Had no one gotten to her on the field, it would have only taken two minutes for it to spread to her chest, reaching her heart, effectively killing her. Already, she could feel it moving past her arm, covering most of her shoulder.

She felt the touch of a stele on her elbow (do Silent Brothers use steles?) and as quickly as the pain came, it was gone. Brother Zachariah stood in front of her, his hand still raised, and Clary thought his posture was one of awe.

It's working much faster than the one I would have used, he noted, and he was right. After a quick glance, Clary saw the blue on her arm had already faded up to her forearm, and was quickly retreating to where the cut was originally made; her hand.

Clary should have felt better about now having two useful hands, as now she could move it, but she felt the opposite.

Panic filled her chest. The urgent feeling that she had to go, go, go made her restless. She stirred uncomfortably in her chains, as she recognized the feeling.

What! Now?!

"Remarkable! Brother Zachariah you are quite impressive." The Counsel looked at Clary's arm in awe, as did everyone else in the courtroom.

Except for Chris and Brother Zachariah. Chris had noted her sudden distress, and was sending her visual questions. Now?

Her sudden rapid breathing was his answer.

Brother Zachariah hadn't moved from his spot, as he too, saw her sudden change of behavior.

Are you alright? Did the rune do something? He reached for her arm, about to inspect the cut that no longer existed in her palm.

Brother Zachariah I wouldn't touch me right now if I were-

She didn't even finish the thought.

Clary thought she understood the pain of it now, she thought that she could handle it, that even though it always hurt her, she could withstand it.

Boy was she wrong.

The energy of all the eleven past turns combined seemed to have compressed themselves and smacked her down with their power as Clary went through her twelfth turn.

For the first millisecond, she felt nothing, the shock of the excruciation numbing her nerve endings, but then everything cascaded on her like a waterfall of torture. Normally, when having an episode, it was only her wrist and chest that pained her. But now, the feeling that something was stinging and piercing her was all over her body.

It was nothing compared to the poison only seconds ago. She felt herself scream so hard she couldn't even hear herself, all she knew and felt was the pain.

On some level though, she could feel everyone around her acting. Brother Zachariah had been grasping her wrist just as her episode occurred, and he no doubt felt the jolt of electricity that Chris would feel whenever he would hold her during these times. But he hadn't gone off far, in fact, something was preventing him from going more than three feet away from her.

Looking down and seeing through spots, Clary's mind processed what was beneath her. Her rune, the clock, was glowing bright red on the ground at her feet. The numberless clock's hand was at the eleven, and it was slowly moving towards the twelve, and Clary pleaded within herself, Move faster, come one, I don't care what happens at the end just make it STOP.

Or did she scream that?

She was at the center of the glowing rune, and she also felt the rune on her sleeved wrist glowing, no, flaming. Looking up this time, she could see her rune burning from behind her sleeve, making it visible.

The Shadowhunters were in a panic, not that she cared, she was too busy experiencing the most horrible feeling of her life, but they were in a frenetic mood. They didn't know what was going on, what had Brother Zachariah done, no he couldn't have done anything. It was most likely something that Jonathan did to her, seemed to be there idea.

Jocelyn had screamed, and tried to run up the stairs, but several people stopped her, including Luke, saying that it was best to stay back.

Clary didn't care, she didn't care about any of them. As she gritted her teeth and clutched at her chains and shut her eyes against all of them, she saw a vision pass behind her mind. A white hand, beckoning her to it.

She followed it, preferring the mysterious mind trick than the pain, and suddenly she was back at that strange fork in the road, in the deep forest of a dream she had.

On the left road, the white haired version of herself called to her, tempting her to join her. On the right road, Clary, little Clary from the swing set, yelled at white haired Clary, telling her to stop trying to trick her, and told Clary not to listen to their demonic counterpart.

They yelled at each other, the white one and the little one, arguing about who was better.

Come with me and you'll be better than before, the white one said.

Don't you want everything to go back to the way it should? The little one pleaded.

Clary only stood, unsure of herself. She didn't trust the white haired girl, but the little girl didn't look as if she could be of much help in the forest. She looked too weak, unhelpful, feckless. All the traits that Clary hated about herself.

Clary suddenly realized her choice.

She could be the white haired girl, someone who was strong, yet she was afraid to be, or the little girl, someone who used their heart, yet weak and she hated to be.

But what to choose?

Clary, what's going on? Brother Zachariah's voice floated throughout the grim forest, making white haired Clary and little Clary looked up, as they both stepped out of their paths in befuddlement, and into the space between the two paths.

I don't know what's happening to you, but please get through it, Clary didn't know if he could see what she was seeing, but she doubted his words were because of this vision. Looking ahead, Clary's mind erased the two paths, focusing on the ground that the two girls had stepped on.

Walking towards them, Clary grasped both of their hands, and pulled them along the trail, the trail that she had made.

Reluctantly, they both followed along.

The end of the forest faded out, as she opened her eyes again, only to see that the rune at her feet was fading, as was her rune on her sleeve, which she could no longer see because it no longer glowed.

She felt the panic of the episode, her last episode, start to fade, as she took in giant breaths to calm her speeding heart. Brother Zachariah was no longer near her, in fact he was nowhere in sight, though Clary thought she caught the flap of a parchment robe slip into the shadows, and as Clary looked up to see the crowd, everyone gasped.

What could be so important that you all gasp now? She wondered, physically tired though she hadn't moved from her spot at all.

The courtroom was in an uproar, as everyone stared at her, talking to each other and whispering things. While the Counsel attempted to shut everyone up, Clary caught someone say, "Her eyes are back to normal, so is her hair!"

What? Her eyes she couldn't check to see, but she ducked her head, shaking it so that her hair was in her vision. All red ringlets. Not a white hair in sight,

Everyone was so caught up in their talk, that she took the opportunity to look at Chris for confirmation. His eyes widened slightly as they saw her, but he quickly hid the surprise. He nodded, a sign that she was, in fact Clary again.

So she looked the same now. But she didn't feel different.

This whole time, she wondered if the end of the rune would change her opinion on her choices, whether or not she would feel differently about Chris, would she hate him again?

But she didn't. She felt completely the same.

And what about her rune? Was it gone? She couldn't check, but she would.

"Counsel!" a Shadowhunter shouted above the voices, "Did you see? The rune that was glowing in the girl's wrist? Is it not obvious that Jonathan Morgenstern placed it there?"

Oh no.

Chris kept quiet, but Clary didn't like this one bit. She stirred as unease settled in her stomach.

Everyone was dying down now, looking at Clary again, the image of her rune painted across their vision.

"Counsel," Jace stood, "If I may, of course."

The Counsel sighed, "Very well, make it quick."

"I think we've all noticed that Clarissa's features are back to her normal appearance, I don't know how the rune placed in her works, but it looked as if it had a time limit." Jace smiled when he said, "And that time limit has now seemed to have gone up."

Surprisingly, Maryse joined in on the topic, "I agree, Lord Counsel, for the rune must have made Clarissa act as Jonathan would have acted, making her feel a he would have felt. If that is the case, then it seems to me that she is no longer under his influence."

She almost got it right…Except I still feel the way I've been feeling this whole entire time!

"What are you suggesting, Maryse?" The Counsel inquired.

"That Jonathan Morgenstern should be sentenced alone, there is no need to send a girl who is now free from him to be punished with his same fate." She ended.

The old Counsel gripped his cane, then heaved a grand, histrionic sigh, "Very well, I see the point you all try to make. Clarissa shall not suffer as her brother, he will be sent alone."

Enough!

"Wait, sent where though?" she couldn't stand that everyone seemed to know what was going to happen to them, or now just Chris it seemed, but Clary was very confused. She didn't like eagerness in all of their eyes, how they seemed to wait for his time to be punished.

She resented them for that, and she didn't regret the feeling.

"Don't you worry dear," The Counsel said. Wow, when all of a sudden you're the 'victim' you become dear. "You won't have to worry about where he's going. He will never harm you again."

The Counsel stood by her, and Clary wished she could inch away, but she could barely keep her toes on the ground, much less move away.

"Magnus Bane! Present yourself, we shall begin with his sentence." The Counsel spoke so that he was loud and clear.

Wait, Magnus? Simon had said he was the one who tracked their house, but he hadn't mentioned that the warlock was here.

The doors of the courtroom slammed open, causing an echo of the sound to resonate in the courtroom. The guards at the back raised their weapons, only to be frozen in blue sparkles.

"Now, now gentlemen, no need to be hostile." The one and only High warlock of Brooklyn made his appearance, carrying a leather backpack on his shoulders. Could her day get any stranger?

"Downworlder," The Counsel spoke harshly, "Was it really necessary to make a show. And please unfreeze my men."

"Well, only because you said please," Magnus quipped, snapping his fingers, and the two Shadowhunters stumbled forward, still in action, as they looked around for the intruder.

Magnus already strolled up the courtroom, making his way up to their platform, looking at Clary, but walking over to Chris.

"Ah, nice to know you're alright Clary, it would have pained me to do this to you." The warlock stated.

"Can it be done?" The Counsel asked.

Magnus nodded, his cat eyes serious, "It will be difficult, but thanks to the book I discovered while in China, for only a few short days, thanks to you all, I should be able to keep it open, if only for a short moment, but that moment shall be all that I need."

"Open what?" Chris asked the Magnus, looking him in the eye.

"Oh, you'll see soon enough." Magnus pulled off his pack, and pulled out an old bound book with yellowing pages and lettering that seem so faded that even if it were in English she wouldn't have been able to articulate anything from it.

"The process is actually quite quick," Magnus announced, as he pulled out a piece of chalk and began to draw a circle on the ground, then surrounded it with another larger circle. In the space outside of the smaller one but inside the large one, he began to draw all sorts of signs and devilry. "It's not the tools that are hard, but the magick that must be performed."

He flipped open to a page, his fingers gingerly caressing the pages as if they would turn to dust in one harsh touch. Clary saw Chris trying to read off of several pages, given that he could speak several demonic languages, but his face looked puzzled, as he had never seen such a language before.

Magnus began to chant, a sound that was archaic and pricked every hair at the back of her neck, it was strange to listen to, it felt like if she listened close enough, she would understand what he was saying, but then it also felt like he was record player playing something backwards. Deep within her bones, though she did not recognize the language, her angelic blood did. And it cowered from the sound of it.

The warlock pulled out several candles from his pack, never ceasing from his chant, and placed one candle every so seconds on the ground. When he had made a full revolution, he then did the same thing, only this time lighting the candles.

Chris was now in the center of a lit circle, his eyes never leaving the warlock.

When Magnus finished his chant, he lifted his right hand, and held it in front of Chris, stepping well out of the way of the circle.

"Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern," Magnus proclaimed, "I am thy condemner, for I open the doors into the dark unknown, and I shall thrust thee towards them, for thee shall fall like Lucifer fell, in flames, and to flames. I, Magnus Bane, with this blood," he made a fist, pressing his fingernails into his palms so that it drew blood, and he spattered it at the circle, "open the doorway to hell, where your eternal punishment, and final residence, shall take you whole."

Upon his last word, the circles beneath Chris began to move, and Clary felt her heart drop.

Hell

The inner circle moved clockwise, while the outer circle moved counterclockwise. The circles began to glow bright orange, like flames. The flames of hell.

They're sending him to hell….

The courtroom got hot, perspiration rolling down her back. The circles were moving so fast that Clary could no longer see the floor it covered. Chris wrestled against his chains, his eyes gone dark. Like a trapped animal.

How

Chain sprang up from the circle, coming right from the ground, no the Portal that was there. They wrapped around Chris's frame, across his chest, around his forearms, down his thighs, ankles, one even pulled on his neck. They pulled him down, and Clary saw how Chris wrapped his hands around the chains suspended him from the ceiling, desperately fighting against them.

Magnus said one final word in demonic, and suddenly the Portal showed a sight that would haunt Clary's days for years to come. A dark void, where beyond it she saw a black ground, the soil made of broken glass and limbs of creatures who shouldn't even exist. The air looked toxic, the visible smog looking like a black hand creeping into your throat while you were sleeping. And the monsters she saw there, the demons, was what made her body tremble. Things that should only be alive in nightmares. That's what they were, horrid hybrids of demon upon demon. It was as if someone took a giant blender and mixed all the disgusting and gruesome features in the world, and made demons from the batter. Clary could feel them reach for her, though that was impossible, it was impossible for her to even witness this, and for a second she thought that she was the one who was being sent. She could feel herself falling, fell them trying to get her, touch her, rip her apart.

It wasn't until she breathed in to scream that she realized that she was still on Earth.

But that didn't relieve her. She shook in her chains, and she saw that everyone else in the courtroom had also stood up and back away a bit, not seeing what she was seeing, but sensing the danger from it. Even the counsel had backed away.

No! Chris, no! She struggled, trying to pull her wrists out of their confinement, but they were too tight. They fit her small wrists just fine.

She was just about to yell at Magnus, to distract the whole process, to say that she was the one who put the rune on herself, not Chris, that Chris hadn't been anything but kind to her, that she had grown to-

The thought struck her almost as much as the vision of hell. She had grown to love him.

Clary opened her mouth, about to shout the words, catching Chris's eyes, she wanted to tell him, to show him. They had only looked at each other for about three seconds, and Clary saw something in his eyes that made her want to kill everyone.

Fear. Despair. Horror.

I love you, the thought went through her mind, and as his eyes widened, she knew he knew. Before she could say it out loud, the Counsel quickly made it to the circle, and with a press of a button, his cane sprouted a blade from the bottom, and with a flick of his wrist, he cut the chains that held Chris in this world.

Chris screamed, a sound that made her want to sob, as the chains pulled him down, into the ground, and down into hell.

Clary's vision went red.

Lacie: *laughs nervously* he…he..hey guys? No hard feelings right?

Chris and Clary: *stares at Lacie with malice and havoc in their eyes*

Lacie: Look, guys, I know I know this is bad, but…..

Chris: *opens door, grabs Lacie by the shoulders, and pushed her out of it*

Lacie: I'll just give you guys some time to let this sink in.

*door slams in her face*

In the studio:

Clary: You're, you're in hell….. *sinks into her chair*

Chris: I know this is just a story, but I feel like killing Lacie now.

Clary: no doubt everyone does…

Chris: You said you loved me….

Clary: I didn't say it, I thought it.

Chris: so you do love me?

Clary: Maybe I realized it…

Chris: You know, I'm still here though, I'll always be alive in these intro ending *sits down next to her and laces hands through hers*

Clary: yeah, you will.

Outside of studio (in some park somewhere):

Lacie: well, now what? Umm… sorry guys, for doing that, it's just that, this was something I had planned….. Don't kill me, or hate the story, it just felt like something needed to be done.

*random guy walks around and sees Lacie talking to herself*

Lacie: What are you staring at? Shoo! So anyways, I hope everyone had, um a happy Christmas and whatnot, happy new early new years too, given that this is the last chapter to be seen in 2013, the next one will be in 2014!

Anyway, review. Please do not state any death wishes you have for me….