Lacie: WARNING: This is Chapter 26. If you are one of the readers who saw my update saying that I wouldn't update until after midterms, and have not rechecked chapter 25, please look at it for it is no longer the message I placed, but an actual, long chapter. That's been there for like, over a week.

PREVIOUSLY

Lacie: Come on in Minty

Minty: *frozen in place holding box of picks* …..hi

Clary: Are we letting reviewers into our little into/ending thingie now? *eats potato chips from a bag*

Lacie: I don't know. I just thought it'd be cool to let a guest in. We've let in characters from the series, as well as from other series *cough cough Harry potter* so why not guests and reviewers?

Chris: As long as they don't take my stuff. I'm cool with her having my lock picking stuff but I'm not giving away my belongings to everyone who comes in.

Lacie: Minty are you okay? Since I don't want to say anything that you wouldn't say, I'll just let you say what you did in your review (bc she responded! :D)

Minty: *unfreezes and jumps up to hug Chris* YAY I'M SO HAPPY

Chris: *glances at Clary yet begins to randomly pat Minty's back for lack of what to do* Umm… hi there.

Minty *steps back*: ummmm hi Clary, hi Lacie, Can I join the gang?

Clary: Whoa Whoa Whoa! *we're recruiting? Since when?

Chris: I'm fine with it

Lacie: that's cause you'd make her do things for you!

Chris: *holds up hands* Guilty

Clary: Will she get me more potato chips *waves empty bag sadly*

Lacie: No ones making anyone do anything! No one's going to be your servant, so stop!

Lacie: I don't know what that was, but it was just random. As for Minty, hello! You are welcome to talk to us anytime, we'd like for you to make an account though, so that we can speak to you via PM whenever you want!

Clary: We might even sing another song for you guys.

Chris: No we won't! I'd rather go through hell!...

Clary: Um…..Chris….. you already-

Chris: Shut up.

Lacie: Okay, does anyone else notice that these intro thingies have gotten a lot longer than when I started doing them? I noticed a looooong time ago, but now its getting bad. If anyone doesn't like it let me know.

Clary: I haven't done the disclaimer in a long time! Lacie-Abyss has yet to steal, buy, or copy the rights to Mortal Instruments, therefore they are not hers. God bless our souls she doesn't.

Lacie: I will ignore that

Enjoy!

Simon POV

He felt utterly terrified.

Simon's nerves were stretched so tightly you could have plucked them to play a few musical notes. Maybe even one of his band's songs, what his band's name again? Reckless Democracy? Evolution in a pickle jar? Something hopelessly bizarre probably, even Simon had to admit that their names were all over the place, though he's constantly denied that to Clary. Hey, that actually sounds like a good bad name, Constant Denial. He'd talk it over with Eric later one-

Oh calm down! Sheesh you're here to meet with Sharon, not the president, relax!

His inner voice didn't do much to calm him as he shifted uncomfortably in the high backed chair that was in the 'waiting room' as one of the servants of the household, an emaciated human who was working under Atlas, the super high level vampire, told him to wait as Sharon readied herself.

Waiting room, he internally snorted, If this is the waiting room, I don't want to know the size of their ballroom.

The place he sat in was enormous, about twenty two feet high with marble columns supporting the ceiling. About half way up, there was a wrap-around balcony overlooking the room, and Simon could see different doors leading to whatever other surprises the place had. There were bookshelves lining the walls below the balcony, and an actual fountain smack in the middle of the room that could probably take up more space than a quarter of a football field. Maybe even a third. There was a fireplace to his left, a small fire lighting up the large room, leaving him in the small spot of light.

Simon debated on standing up and looking around, maybe grab a random book and look like he was interested in the literature, but upon seeing that the books were all old and written in languages he couldn't even recognize, he gave up the effort in appearing casual and smooth as just sat down in the chair again.

It was a good thing that he was dead, because if not he'd be sweating up a storm. He kept expecting to have the need to rub his palms on his pants but whenever he unconsciously did so his hands came up dry and cold.

The reason why he was so nervous? Tonight he was planning on telling Sharon that he wasn't interested in her. To cut off their 'relationship' which hasn't consisted of more than a few phone calls and one a walk in the park in New York. Sharon was a nice girl and all, but he didn't want to date a girl who looked like she was barely twelve. (she was actually thirteen when Turned but she looked younger). Simon felt horrible though, the only reason why he had agreed to see the vampire was because he was in need of Atlas's help, and now that he no longer wanted or required it, there was really no point in keeping up the façade. Not only that, but Izzy was starting to get mad. Over the past few weeks, after Clary's disappearance from Idris, the two of them had figured out their relationship. He could now officially go to a movie and say, "One ticket for me and one for my girlfriend." Of course he didn't have to say it, but it felt pretty damn awesome to say that the tall and extraordinarily beautiful girl by his side was dating him.

Things were looking pretty amazing between them, they could kiss and make out now that he was getting the hang of controlling his bloodlust, though Isabelle said that it was okay if he wanted a drink every now and then. Sometimes he was tempted, but so far he's restrained himself.

They've gone on dates to all sorts of places, and sometimes Isabelle's surprised him by taking him to some Downworlder places where they didn't have to hide the fact that he was a vampire. So yeah, all was good and great, despite the fact that Clary was missing and not a word from her has gotten out. Not even her little light on the map anymore. It was assumed that the only reason her little light was on the map was because of the strange clock thingie on her arm, the one they'd all seen that night. The turns must have been what punctured through the spells and such that were used so that no one could track her. But now the turns were done, so there was nothing to show where she was anymore. Everyone was pretty depressed, and he hadn't told anyone else what he told Izzy, about his point of view on the whole Clary thing. He still had hope in her, and he'd wait, and Izzy, though she never said it, would wait too.

Now back to the Sharon thing.

Izzy was getting pretty mad, because more than once, the vampire girl had texted and called him while they were together. Over the past weeks, Sharon's been constantly trying to get to him. His phone was always ringing from her calls, scaring Simon awake and ringing in some pretty weird situations. During band practice, while he's feeding (from animals or donated blood, mind you) and earlier today while he was making dinner with Izzy at his apartment because he was scared that she would hurt herself in the kitchen. The phone rung while he was teaching her how to flip a pancake (she insisted on eating breakfast for dinner), and the ringing had made him drop the pan onto his bare toes. As well as drop the batter onto Izzy's shirt.

"That is it!" Izzy had warned, "Give me your phone, I'm about to tell this bitch who she's messing with!"

Simon held the ringing phone away from her as she tried to pry it out of his hands, "Calm down Iz, she's just a little girl with a crush."

Isabelle roared, "Little girl my ass! She's a centuries old vampire who just ruined my top! She's gonna pay for this!" Although Simon thought Isabelle looked adorable when she threatened like that, he thought it was best to prevent a catfight. Well, no. If Isabelle and Sharon got together, it'd be more like watching two bulls rip their guts out.

"I'll deal with it," Simon promised her as Isabelle took deep breaths, "I can handle this."

"You better tell her you're not interested before I go to her and rip her fangs out!" Isabelle had stomped out of the kitchen and left.

And that's why he, Simon Lewis, was sitting in a huge mansion somewhere in Italy at 3 am as he waited for the beloved daughter of Atlas to show up.

Sharon had actually called telling him that she wanted him to come visit her in his house. That she had seen his home city, and now he should come to see her. Simon thought that breaking it to a girl in her own home was pretty harsh, but it was the best opportunity that he had. It wasn't that he was repeating the whole Maia/Izzy incident again, he had actually thought about telling Sharon that they weren't best together and that he already had a girlfriend. But how do you tell the daughter of a strong and influential vampire who's given up part of his army to help that you don't like her? Simon wasn't stalling the breakup. He had been stalling his funeral.

But I gotta do this sometime, he groaned to himself. Sharon had arranged for a warlock to open up a Portal so that he could come, only he wasn't able to see outside of the mansion. He had been teleported right inside the front door, and then was escorted to where he was now. The place was annoyingly quiet and empty, no one else coming through any doors. He was wearing one of his better pair of black jeans, clothes that Isabelle had picked out for him, a plain white shirt and a ruby red leather jacket, also picked out by Isabelle once when she went shopping.

Just as he starts to wonder how much longer Sharon could keep him waiting, his eyes immediately snapped to a large white door across from him and she walked in.

Sharon was about four foot ten, with caramel brown hair that fell in perfect waves, and creamy peach skin. Her eyes were a strange color, hazel, where sometimes they were one color, sometimes another. She wore a white shirt tucked into a long black skirt that stopped just at her ankles, where she didn't appear to be wearing any shoes.

Though her physical appearance was only that of a twelve to thirteen year old, Simon could tell that she would have been very beautiful had she been given the chance to grow three years older. She had high cheekbones and natural long lashes, giving her the look of the innocent little sister. She wore no makeup, which was a relief to Simon, given that he hated it when little girls wore things like lipstick and mascara and all this junk when they're still so young, but she did try to appear more mature and older. The clothes she was wearing didn't seem what girls her age would wear, but she pulled it off. Could it be that she was actually years beyond her appearance that helped her do it? Living with a bunch of older people must have matured her mind a bit, so maybe she didn't act much like a twelve year old anymore. Maybe she was just an older person trapped inside a younger body.

All of those thoughts disappeared when Sharon saw him and burst into a high pitched girly shriek, "My Sun boy! You came!" She ran to him with vampire speed and knocked him down to the ground with a thud as she hugged him.

"Hey Sharon," he managed evenly, "How are you?"

Still on top of him, she placed her hands on his shoulders and lifted herself up so that she could look at him, "Now that you're here, I'm great! I can't believe you actually showed up!" Again she hugged him, but this time she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Well, it was hard to say no when a Portal opened up in the middle of my room and a warlock with lilac skin a flower growing out of his bald head appeared out of nowhere." The warlock had scared the hell out of him. Simon had gone to the bathroom to take a shower, and when he was done he'd wrapped a towel around his waist. When he pulled back the shower curtains, a purple warlock was sitting on his toilet, telling him to get into the portal next to the sink. It was a miracle he had convinced the sour faced (though who wouldn't be sour with that appearance?) warlock to let him wear some pants before he jumped in.

"Oh you mean Delgy? He's a sweetheart." Sharon said, getting off of him. Purple skin, flower on his head, and his name was Delgy? Simon suppressed a round of laughter.

"Come on!" Sharon pulled on his hands as he stood back up, "I really want to show you something!"

"Umm… I have something I actually want to tell you," Simon tried.

"That can wait!" Sharon showcased a bright Hollywood smile that he could imagine seeing on an advertisement for, um, whatever they used to advertise teen stuff for. "I want you to see my room!"

Oh no, Simon thought as his head nodded OK and Sharon dragged him through the same door she'd come through, I don't know much about this but if a girl wants you to see her room, it means she really likes you doesn't she? Isn't there something about this? If she really wants me to see her room, it means she really wants to be together, which means this whole breaking up thing is not going to be easy…..

Breaking up with Clary hadn't been easy, but he it wasn't all that hard. After they broke up, everything had been alright, they were still best friends and nothing had been broken. In fact, they're bond had gotten stronger.

He doubted the same was going to happen in this case.

After going through random brick hallways and up one flight of white gleaming stairs, Simon was standing in front of black double doors with golden exquisite doorknobs. The doors were covered in signs saying KEEP OUT and IF YOU CAN READ THIS THEN YOU'RE TOO CLOSE and the basic stuff you'd see on a preteen's door.

"Are you ready?" Sharon squeaked, rocking excitedly on her feet.

"Uh, yeah?" he internally cringed when he noticed his voice came out in a question, but Sharon didn't even notice as she immediately shoved at the doors to open.

She practically skipped into the room ahead of him, waiting for him to take in everything around him.

"My Go-" his throat constricted with the usual effects of him trying to say the G-word, but he hardly paid attention to it. Sharon's room was huge. His whole house and apartment could have fit into her room and still have space for her huge ten by ten feet bed with its black covers that had a bare tree with red branches on it.

Most of her room was black and red. The walls were black, and the ceiling was painted in a rich, deep, blood red. Simon felt like the paint was going to drip down at him, making his fangs twitch in his gums. A tall vanity mirror was across from him, made with red oak and covered in all sorts of trinkets. There was no light source in the room, unlike in the waiting room, making them both rely on their nocturnal vision to see. What surprised Simon though, was the amount of band posters all over the walls.

Covering here and there were bands that Simon listened loved and listened to, not only that but of video games that he played, and shows that he watched. There was a large and fairly new looking flat screen TV mounted on the wall to his right, in front of it was a long, half u-shaped black leather couch with cup holders and built in recliners. Under the screen was a small table with all sorts of game counsels and video games that he was sure weren't even out yet. The floor was a carpet with a pattern of black and red squares, like a checker board. Along the floor too, were comic books and all sorts of stuff that he was interested in.

This girl did her research.

Sharon stood with her hands clasped behind her back, looking at him expectantly, as if waiting for his approval. He felt the urge to gulp. Sharon reminded him too much of Maureen, a little girl who admired him and tried to get his attention, which was another reason why he wanted to stop this.

"What do you think?" Sharon asked with a smile, rocking on her heels.

Simon did a three sixty, making a show of looking at everything again, "It's cool. A lot of the things I like are in here. A lot."

Sharon beamed. "I'm glad you liked it! At first I didn't know what most of this stuff was, the music was strange and the games were confusing, but after I played with them a bit and listened to some songs I can see why you like them so much." She picked up a box and he read the title 'Call of Duty.' "This is one is particularly a popular one amongst guys like you, isn't it?"

"Ugh yeah, I guess it is. You know guys, violence. We crave it." He scratched at the back of his neck. "You know Sharon, I really need to tell you-"

"Oh wait! I haven't showed you my favorite part yet!" Sharon ran to her bed, where she rummaged underneath it. Simon was kind of expecting for her to pull out some collage made from pictures of him from whatever stalker she hired to find out all of his about him. But instead she pulled out a key.

Now don't think too highly of yourself Simon….

"What's that for?" he asked.

"For this." She excitedly walked over to the vanity mirror and shoved it aside, where behind it was a four foot tall door. It was white, gleaming in contrast to the rest of the room. She put the key in the lock, opening it and beckoning Simon in. Well, no use in telling her no.

Ducking to avoid hitting his head, Simon straightened up to see a full library. The room wasn't as large as the previous ones, but it was still about as large as four whole rooms put together. The library was your basic colors, wood shelves with a brown carpet, leather chairs here and there. There was a rolling ladder to the side standing upright as it was attached to the top of the shelves so that one could roll it from place to place to get all your booky needs. The shelves were about eight feet high, and Simon could probably reach most of them without needing it. Books were everywhere, not just filling the walls to their full capacity, but on the floor too, on writing desks, on chairs, and in a small little alcove that was adorned with a huge teddy bear and a blue blanket.

"I read here all the time." Sharon commented, "There's never really much for me to do, Atlas is always gone, and I mostly have to stay in the house." She walked to the alcove and leaned against the belly of the bear, the legs and arms on either side of her. "I think I've read almost every single one of these books, well, except the ones I don't understand. In the beginning I couldn't comprehend some of the languages, but I asked if I could learn them, and when I did, I read them. Even the boring ones."

"How many languages do you speak?" Simon asked, curious despite himself.

Sharon made a look as if thinking, then responded, "About, twenty two, I think. I've lost track."

"Tw-Twenty two?!" How long could it take to possibly learn that many languages? To the point where you can read them and understand them completely?

How old was Sharon, really? He knew she was much older than her appearance, but how much older? Looking around the room, Simon saw all sorts of books, ranging from novels to history books to science books to religious books to poetry and encyclopedias, and that was just from the books with English covers, and there weren't that many of those. She wasn't just old, she was smart. Self-educated. Simon was suddenly feeling wary of the vampire girl. A little ignorant girl with a crush was one thing, a mature and intellectual person was another. It made him question what she wanted with him.

"Come here Simon," she gestures to her alcove before jumping out of it. "I'll show you some of my favorite books!"

She hurried off to the shelves, rolling the ladder to reach some of them, while Simon awkwardly perched on the ledge of the alcove feeling like the giant teddy bear was watching him from above.

"So," he whispers to the bear, "Were you forced here too?" Of course the bear didn't reply.

He turned back towards the room quickly as Sharon skipped back to him with her arm full of books.

"I read this one first, mostly because it looked interesting and because it was the first book in English that I found when I started reading here," Sharon handed him a book in which he faintly registered said Shakespeare before she shoved another one under his nose, "This one's more modern, so maybe you've heard of it, no? Well take a look at this one, it's the first book in French that I ever read!" Simon nodded along to everything she said, muttering things like, "Really?" or, "Oh how cool," while his eyes were lazily roaming the library shelves. There were books of all shapes and sizes, but there was one that he kept coming back to. There was nothing relevant about it, but something kept pricking at the back of his mind, something important…

His thoughts were interrupted when Sharon climbed onto the alcove with him and sat on her knees behind him, placing her hand on his shoulder and putting a book in his lap.

"I think you'll like this one, we got it a short while ago. I like it too, will you read it for me?" Sharon pouted, and Simon internally sighed. This was getting nowhere near where he wanted. He was supposed to be breaking it to Sharon, not reading to her.

Nevertheless, he flipped open the book the front page, the title saying Eragon. He remembers this book, mostly because he saw the movie. The book was published years ago, in the early 2000's. Not that long ago, but still over a decade ago. If a decade was a 'short while' to Sharon, then how old was she, really?

"'Eragon knelt in a bed of trampled reed grass and scanned the tracks with a practiced eye. The prints told him that the deer had been in the meadow only a half-hour before. Soon they would bed down. His target, a small doe with….'" Simon tried to read, his mind even focused on the words, when he felt Sharon's small hands run through his hair, playing with the ends of it. Not knowing what to do, he kept reading, rather weirdly. "' Eragon was fifteen, less than a year from manhood.'"

Sharon now had her chest pressed against his back, her face nestled in shoulder and neck, and had she needed to breathe, he would have felt her breathe on his skin. Her hands were now on his cheek, while the other one was still drawing circles in his hair.

"Umm…Sharon?" Simon hesitantly asked, "What are you doing?"

"Shhh…." She whispered into his neck, "Keep reading…."

His mind was in panic. All senses had shut down and now he was in a complete loss. He had no idea what to do. This was wrong, this was wrong, he kept repeating to himself, but what could he do to stop it?

The book was gripped tightly in his hands, and he did not keep reading, though his gaze never moved from the pages. Sharon was placing light kisses on his jaw, and it took everything in him not to noticeably tense every time she came into contact with him. She was no longer kneeling, but had her legs wrapped around him from behind, and she was slowly turning so that she could slide into his lap. At the same time, she turned his chin towards her, so that the kisses no longer were just on his jaw.

Sharon did not kiss like a twelve year old girl. Though Simon was not responding to her, she moved with all the experience of grown woman. He was in shock. Complete and utter shock. He would have stayed that way too, at a loss for what to do, until he swore he heard Isabelle scream in his mind.

Simon Lewis if you do not break up with that girl I will break her for you!

You know what, Simon thought, I don't like girl troubles a lot, nope.

"Sharon, hey, stop." He moved forward, stepping out of the alcove and stood up, looking down at her.

"What's wrong, was it something I did wrong?" her eyes swelled into innocent disks.

"No, it's not what you did, it's just that this isn't right." He gestured to the two of them, "We don't know each other, at all, and I'm sorry but I don't feel like we're meant to be, you know?"

"No," Sharon stared hard eyed at him, "I don't know."

Oh no, plan B, time to make it look like it's my fault.

"Sharon, I'm a Daylighter, meaning that I can, you know, be in the daylight and not get burned to death. But the thing is, I can do that, and you can't, don't you think that that would be a major problem for us? If we had to wait for night all the time? Especially for me, since I do a lot of things in the day." He tried to explain.

"Well then how did you become a Daylighter," she questioned, "Tell me so that I can fix this and there will be no problem at all."

The thought of him biting into Jace quickly passed before he lied, "I don't know, I really don't, which is why we can't be together, you deserve someone who can stay awake during the same time of the day as you, and someone with the same level of vampireness as you. I'm still a pretty new one to the whole vampire world, as you, you already know what you are while I'm still in denial. You don't deserve me Sharon."

He tried to put his most convincing voice into this, and he thought that maybe it was working, when Sharon's whole feature changed. Her eyes were no longer large and innocent, and her face was no longer soft and smooth. They had hardened and were grim, her eyes now intelligent and wise beyond her years, she had a frown that indicated not sadness, but disapproval. She looked like she aged thirty years by simply dropping the whole little girl act.

In a voice that was no longer high and squealish, but commanding and authoritative, she spoke, "There's someone else, isn't there?" She rose from the alcove, walking towards Simon. She even seemed taller than before. Simon didn't speak.

"Answer me!"

"Yes," he said quietly.

"Who is she? She's not a vampire right? Because if you're not with me then you're not with any other of us vampires."

"No, I'm not with a vampire." Simon spoke. "And she's not a Downworlder."

Sharon's eyes widened in outrage, "Then she's mortal!"

"That's right."

"Why would you be with her?" she snarled, "She's just going to die soon anyway! Why tie yourself to something that's going grow old?"

He couldn't give her an immediate answer. It was a question that he asked himself all the time, every day. Now, sure, everything was fine, he and Izzy were the same age, so there was no difference between them. But what about in three years? Ten? Fifty? Isabelle always tells him that she's a Shadowhunter, and that there's a small chance that she'll be able to live up to old age anyway because of all the dangerous things she does because of who she is. It was a thought that kept him awake at night. What was the point? When everyone around him would get old, while he'll live forever.

Because he won't live forever, he finally realized. He may be immortal, but he can still die. He can still be killed. Who's to say he won't die tomorrow, or the very next day because of some fight he'll get into? Or because of some demon he gets caught up with when he goes to fight with Izzy? Isabelle may be mortal, and he may be immortal, but they can both still die at whatever moment. Everyone can. And that's what made him choose what he did. Live in the moment. Don't look into the future.

"The future's not here yet." Isabelle had told him. "But the present is all we have."

That's why he told Sharon, "She may be able to die at whatever moment, but you know what, so can I. I may be a vampire, but I'm not invincible. Something can happen to me the second I go back home and I can be gone. I can get killed by Shadowhunters, I can get shot in the head, I can staked in the heart, I can get burned by my own religion, but we won't know until it happens. We won't about anything until it happens. So I don't care if she'll die anyway, because she's not dead now, and I'm going to take whatever moment I may have with her."

Sharon's features were still twisted into something that made her years older, but her voice was somewhat defeated, "I knew you still held onto your human ideals, but I wasn't sure how much." Her eyes bore into him, "The surprising thing? That was what drew me to you. You're humanity."

"But you didn't even know me before you met me. How could you be drawn to me?"

Sharon balled her hands into fists at her side, "I heard about a vampire who could walk in the sun, and who still acted as if he was completely human. One who avoided his own kind and preferred to be with mundanes and Shadowhunters." Her hazel eyes had shifted into a light green, "Vampires are dark and mysterious, and it's hard to approach them. When I thought of you, I thought of the sun, and light. I don't crave sunlight, but sometimes I think about it, and I realize I no longer know how it feels to be under the bright sun."

Simon looked as Sharon looked away, and began to walk back to her alcove. She sat down, and fingered through a book, pulling open a page where there was a big bright yellow sun, shining over a meadow.

"I can't remember it at all." Sharon said, nostalgia tainting her voice, "Even as a human, I remember sneaking away at night, to see the boy I liked. It was always the night that I awaited, but now, I can't remember the day."

She was a girl who was trying to reconnect with her humanity, Simon realized. How does it feel, to be so young, and to live forever, never growing older, and slowly forgetting what it was like to be human? Simon was still able to remember, and he felt that he would never completely lose it, it would be impossible for him to.

"It's warmth." He spoke, making Sharon look up, "It's like sitting next to a fire, only the fire illuminates your whole body, and lights up everything around you. The warmth sinks into your cold body, like a mortal person who still has body heat."

Sharon had closed her eyes, probably trying to imagine what he was describing.

"The sun is a giant fire ball in the sky, only you can't see it because if you stare too long, you're eyes hurt a lot. Sometimes the sun is warm and cozy, especially in the early morning, and setting dusk. Other times is feels like you're being fried." He chuckled, "But, the sun is the sun, and it lights everything up, and shoves away the darkness. Some people live in light, some people live in dark. I'm lucky to be able to be in both."

She had brought her knees up to her chest, and was staring deeply into the darkness of the room.

"I have to live in darkness," Sharon said, "But you don't. And neither does she."

She stretched up, and looked at him again, "Go. I'll tell Delgy to send you home."

Simon stepped back nervously, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. Just, go." Her head turned towards the shelves filled with books, and Simon's eye involuntarily went back again towards that books that he had noticed before. He looked back, seeing that Sharon had opened the door out of the room for him.

He stepped out, but before leaving, he stooped down, and gave her a brief kiss on the forehead. At her wide eyes, he said, "Take care of yourself."

As he walked out of the library, and proceeded to walking through her room towards the door, she called, out to him, her voice no longer in a twelve year olds, nor older woman's. She just sounded like, a girl.

"Take of care of yourself too, and of, that girl too." She added the last part quickly, as if the faster she said it, the less it would hurt. "But if anything does happen to her, you know where to find me, okay?"

Simon gave a quick smile. "Trust me, she doesn't need me to take care of her. She does that fine just on her own."

Clary POV

"Clary, wake up, we're going to miss the show." A soft warm voice spoke in her ear, a hand lightly caressing her cheek. It felt real, too real.

Afraid to make this stop, she lay still, not moving, not wanting this to end.

"Alright then sleepy head, am I going to need to use alternative measures to get you up?" She felt his hand brush the hair from her face as she gripped the pillow on her bed, feeling the movement of the mattress underneath them. His arm draped around her middle, and began to nibble on her ear.

"Stop," she halfheartedly said, not really wanting him to.

"Come on Clary, time to get up." She felt his hair rub against her nose, and though her eyes were closed, she could tell that he was only centimeters above her face, his hair tickling the end of her nose. He sighed. "I guess I have to use my last resort." She felt his lips brush against hers as he spoke, like light feathers.

Fingers were underneath her chin now, tipping it upward. Clary grew panicked, not by what he would do, but by what would happen.

"Wait Chris," she begged. If she moved, this would be over, this amazing dream would be over. Like all of them.

"Clary, open your eyes and look at me." He said.

She wanted to, she really wanted to, and against her will, her eyes opened and she was met by one of the happiest sights she ever saw in the past few weeks.

He was just as she remembered, albeit her mind must've glorified a few parts but nevertheless, his pale blonde white hair hung like it always had, and his deep abysmal black eyes stared into her, a spark of warmth and depth inside of them. A radiant smile was on his face.

"About time, don't you want to watch TV?" Chris's lips moved as if every word had a deeper meaning than it actually had.

"Hey," She reached up, realizing too late that she wouldn't be able to make contact with him, that she messed everything up yet again.

Clary sat bolt up in her bed, her face feeling pale and her hand still stretch out as if to touch him, but all it came into contact with was cold, empty air. It was always like that, she'd have a dream, and he'd be in it, but whenever she tried to get close, she would wake up and the dream would end.

But it had felt so real, she couldn't decide whether that was a blessing, or a curse. To be able to feel him every night in her dreams, but never actually able to come into contact with him.

Clary sighed, running her hands through her hair and taking a deep breath to calm herself. Her eyes did a quick scan of the room she was in before getting up and walking over to the calendar on the wall and ripping out yesterday's date.

Three months.

It had been exactly three months since she had left Idris, since she had left her Shadowhunter world in search of a way to get Chris back.

Stretching out her back, she walked over to her drawer and began to pull out clothes in exchange for her pajamas. She now slept in the secret room that Clary had found connected to her room (Lacie: refer to Chapter 9, paragraph 10. Yes, sentences count as paragraphs), though she had never actually used it while she lived in the house with Chris, she found that it was the only place in the house that reminded her the least of their time together. Clary didn't want to forget, but she didn't want to be bombarded by anguished emotions all the time. Too much of the house reminded her too much of him.

Clary looked up, seeing that the sun was barely rising out of the east through her skylight. It had become a normality to wake up with the sun nowadays. She was currently in Giza, Egypt, as a matter of fact, her house was inside one of the pyramids of Giza. At first Clary had been confused that the whole house was underground, yet she could still see the sky through her little secret room's skylight, then she learned that the window in her ceiling was enchanted to be able to see the sky she was under at all times, even if the house was buried deep under.

She couldn't remember which pyramid she was in, but it was one of the closed ones. She had been worried when she originally arrived here that tourist would be able to come in and see it, but apparently not all of the great pyramid are open to the public. This one was closed for preservation.

Well, wherever she was, her mornings were same either way. Changing out of pj's, she put on a cotton white camisole under some black sweat pants to train in. Making her bed, she ducked her head through the small door connecting this smaller room to her old room. She walked through it, her eyes automatically avoiding the objects surrounding it. Her room was exactly the same as the day they went out to Athens. Same bed, same sheets, same easels and art supplies littering the floor. There was an exception though. There was one easel missing in the room that was now in her secret little room. She could picture the unfinished painting in her mind. Dark, black wings, growing out of a scarred back that was turned towards her. Only the back of the head of the white haired figure was seen as his back was facing hers, while he stood at the mouth of a dark crevice looking down, down, down. His torso was naked, his bottom covered in ripped, dark jeans, a black blade of some sort hanging down by his side. Clary started it weeks ago, but had never been able to finish it since.

She headed towards the kitchen, pulling out a bread bag from the cupboards and popping in a slice into the toaster on the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. Sitting down at the bar, she let her mind randomly wander around the room. They had settled on the living room, which was just there taking up dust. Clary found it hard to sit on the couch now and watch TV, it just didn't feel the same now, and now it would be even harder to do so because of the dream she just had.

Man, I can't even watch my shows without feeling like the space next to is empty.

She'd get him back, she would, and she couldn't wait for the moment when she could run to him and wrap her arms around him, but whenever she thought of him too much, she'd get a feeling like homesickness, only it wasn't home she missed, it was the person who made this place feel like home that she desired.

Shaking her head, Clary reached over for a small black metallic untraceable phone, flipped it open, and checked for any messaged from her contacts. There were none, her heart sank.

Finding the castle in Switzerland had taken almost two weeks to do, maybe more. Throughout those two weeks, she had scrounged for money and food. The father did know of a castle or two, but none of them were the ones she was looking for. He had also allowed her to stay in the church for a few days, as he later found out that she had nowhere to go, and Clary took his offer gratefully, sleeping in some small room that was probably meant for other churchly visitors. After a few days though, she could feel that the father was starting to get too curious as to who she was and why she was there, asking her small questions that she avoided. She had only been there for five days before packed up what little she owned (in other words nothing but the clothes and coat given to her) and thanked the father for his hospitality before he could call the police so that they could come and try to help locate 'this small girl's family.' Clary didn't know if the Clave would meddle in mundane governments, but she couldn't let herself be out in the open like that, so she left.

After that, she had used everything she possibly could to find the castle as fast as she could. Not even her inner Sebastian knew exactly where the castle was, but she could piece together an idea of it. Switzerland was a large country, especially when you were exploring it on foot. As is turned out, there were many, many, castles and fortresses in this country, and Clary thought that she'd never be able to find the place. She needed that home, needed somewhere that she could start to begin her search for Chris. It hadn't been until her hands came across a pamphlet that she had been planning on using as a napkin during one of her meals (A.K.A, sitting next to a bunch of homeless people as they shared a fire in a garbage bin) that she saw that it had a list of all the castles in Switzerland.

Long story short, she had read through the pamphlet until one of the names just seemed to jump at her, as if her inner mind recognized it. Hoping against hope that this was it, she had simply looked at the picture of the castle, gone to a dark alley, drew a Portal, and hoped that this would be it.

It had been.

Something about the place had felt familiar, and even though she'd never seen the place from the outside, she immediately felt that she knew that this was it. Concealing herself in glamour, she simply scaled the turret that she felt was the right one (after like, the other three not being it) climbed in through the window, and Yay! She was inside the training room. Upon entering the house, she was overwhelmed by emotion of being back, that the place was empty, that the past two weeks being days that Chris was in hell and she had done nothing about it. So instead of breaking down (yet she was fairly close to doing so some of the time) she set herself to work.

In the past three months, she's been all over the world, given that the house still liked to travel, and she was just fine with that. Though she didn't know exactly how to control it like Chris did, like how he knew how to make the house move whenever he wanted, though he couldn't control where it went, she found somewhere in his room a small rectangular object, which first she thought was a mirror, but turned out to be an item to tell her where the house was and how long it would be in the area without having to go out and physically check.

So that's how he always knew where we were…..she thought nostalgically.

Clary had been in search of allies, people who could help her find ways to get Chris back but would not rat her out to the Clave. She only came into contact with Downworlders, mostly those who obviously didn't care for the Clave or its laws. She would try to disguise herself to prevent her identity being known to them, but whenever it couldn't be helped, she'd make them swear on whatever they held sacred that they wouldn't tell.

Alliances were sometimes made, and when that happened she'd get them an untraceable phone and give them her number, making them promise they'd call her or text her if the ever came across information that could be of use to her. Most of the time she came across angry warlocks and feisty vampires and werewolves who would much rather claw her to pieces, or rip her neck out, or 'turn her into a pickle' as one warlock stated. Those times, well, the people threatening her ended up swearing they never saw her, or attempting to speak, given that sometimes she'd have no choice and have to really hurt them to make them stop.

She was so desperate to find help but not to give herself away that she contacted Ghayth, her little friend in Saudi Arabia two months ago, to see if he could help. She hadn't known where to start looking for him, so one day she Portaled to the room they had entered through the alley, the one with all the boxes and where Clary had been told she was going to gypsy dance. (Still not a good memory, ew.)

At first she had been concerned, what if Ghayth was no longer in this village? His father was one of the men who chased Clary and Chris and killed some of their men, they could have left weeks ago!

She had concealed herself in a glamour, sitting atop one of the many boxes for hours as girls came in and out, getting clothes and leaving them there, and was just about to leave.

"He's not here." She muttered to herself, climbing down from her perch, "He's probably back in Europe, miles from here, and I'm not getting anything done by being here."

In truth, she also wanted to see someone familiar. A month in solitude really drove you crazy, and the small innocent boy had earned a special place in her heart, so why not check up on him? That was going to be hard to do though, if he wasn't anywhere she could find him.

Clary was just about to leave, she had been in the process of drawing a Portal on the walls, ignoring girls who came and went because they couldn't see her. Another pair of feet came in, and she naturally ignored it, when the little voice shot up.

Clary didn't recognize what he said, given that it had been in Arabic, but she turned and saw little Ghayth, a torch in one hand, and a purple outfit that he was proabbaly putting away in the other.

"Umm… English please?" Clary smiled meekly.

"What are you doing in here?" Ghayth stepped back slightly, fear in his eyes.

"Hey, why are so scared? I thought we were friends." Clary spoke, confused. That's when she realized that Ghayth had seen her back when she still had white hair and black eyes. Ghayth didn't know her as the red curly haired, green eyes freckled girl that was standing before her.

"Ghayth," she talked sweetly, "It's me, Clary." She put her stele away, and held out her hands.

There had been a moment of silence, then Ghayth had dropped everything and launched himself into her arms.

He had laughed and sobbed into her arms, and Clary laughed into his too. "I thought…you were gone…my dad was so mad….I didn't know what happened…..then I got the necklace back…." He spoke between hiccups.

Clary didn't realize that she never explained what had happened to her to him. Apparently he had thought she was dead, given that she had been taken off like a damsel in distress, and nothing had shown up to prove otherwise except the jewels that he had let her borrow that had magically shown up in his pocket one night.

"What happened to your hair, and your eyes?" he asked immediately, wiping his eyes. "You're not a white angel anymore."

She laughed, "I never was. It was a look I was trying out, that's all."

"I think you look pretty like this too. Maybe even better."

She thanked him, and briskly explained to him her situation. She needed his help again, to which he was very happy to assist in, and had given him an untraceable phone, with extra batteries and a lot of money that she had found in the Morgenstern home already put into it.

"Give me a call whenever you need me or have something that could help." She told him before leaving, "And don't let your dad find you with it."

"I don't live with my dad anymore." He had said simply. "He left for Europe, and I work here now."

Clary felt more guilt and responsibility for the kid now, and to this day, she still sent him things through the cupboards, like food and money and letters. He was a smart kid, and she knew he wouldn't tell.

"If anyone asks," he told her, "I'll tell them the white angel is watching over me."

She hadn't told him otherwise.

Ghayth had texted her the names of several warlocks that he knew of that could perhaps know a bit of dark magic and help her open the same Portal that Magnus had, but so far all of them were a bunch of weak amateurs who could barely light a fire by snapping their fingers. She had even debated on finding Holly, the waitress from the restaurant in Canada, given that she was a warlock and probably knew of other warlocks, but was scared to do so. After some research, she had discovered that Holly worked under the Clave, keeping an eye on the Downworlders and Shadowhunters that came and left the place. Anything suspicious was reported to the Clave. She'd rather avoid that, thank you.

In fact, the Clave was becoming rather hard to not face nowadays. She didn't know how hard they were looking for her, but every once in while, if she went out to places filled with people from the Shadowworld, she'd come across them. Clary found it quite tedious to keep having to wear things in order to disguise herself, and frankly, she was quite curious as to what would happen if she tried to apply her rune again, but this time thinking about someone else.

At first she had been afraid to use the rune again, not because of the episodes that she would have to endure again, but because she was afraid of losing her inner Sebastian. For several days, she tried to convince herself to try it, but kept chickening out. She didn't want to lose the only thing she had of him, other than the house, but she convinced herself to do it a few days after seeing Ghayth again.

She had stood in her room, her actual room, because it had a large mirror which she could see herself in, and stood, stele poised above the same arm where her rune was, only she drew it right below it, between her wrist and elbow. At first she didn't have a clue as to who to think of, who to be, and though she had had previous ideas of who she wanted to be if she ever drew the rune again, they seemed silly now.

The second time she drew the rune on herself, she had thought of Isabelle. She pictured Isabelle as who she was, a tall and strong women who was unafraid and capable of herself and others. She pictured her annoying beauty and her fierce determination, and her protectiveness of those who she cared about.

This time, Clary had watched as she changed. A stinging sensation in her scalp began, just as it had last time, as well as a stretching feeling in her spine. Her eyes burned, but not in a painful way. Clary beheld as her hair lengthened, straightened out, and became dark black just as Izzy's. It was just like Chris had described it, like someone had dumped a bucket of paint on her head as her natural hair color ebbed out. Her eyes were dark brown, larger than she remembered, and she had Izzy's natural beauty.

But what Clary really cared about, was the height. Clary had grown six inches. Not as tall Isabelle had been, but still, she was six inches taller! She didn't know why she hadn't gotten taller when she pictured Sebastian, given that he was a giant, maybe because she had pictured his strength at the time and here she had pictured Izzy's beauty, but she didn't care. She was taller!

Just like with Sebastian, Clary was still perfectly in charge of her own thoughts, but Izzy's mind was a little bit more possessive than Sebastian. She found herself wearing a lot of tight, revealing clothing, as well as wearing makeup. Clary didn't know the names of most of the things she put on, but she knew what to do with them. She also found an attraction to a whip in the training room, her hands expertly utilizing it, though Clary had never quite understood how the thing functioned.

Not only that, but Clary was able to go out without worrying about anyone recognizing her. No one would think that the slim, black haired, high heel, mini skirt wearing girl with smoking eyelashes and dark eyes was Clarissa Fairchild, fugitive of the Law. She had to admit, there was something about being Isabelle that made you feel more confident, walking around in nine inch heels like she owned the place and not even aware that she was doing it.

Sebastian never left her mind. Clary found that he was still there, not constantly behind her thoughts like before, but if she thought about it, tried to fish him out of her mind, he was there, as well as his demonic strength and speed and knowledge. The rune was still on her arm too, whenever she willed it to appear, it did, right below the newer rune. It was amazing, considering that she could be three people at once.

When the twelve days were done, the pain as equally the same as it always had been, only for some reason, she didn't register it the same way, as if the pain no longer reached her all the way, Clary did the same exact thing that she had when her original rune finished. She picked the middle path, deciding to be both Clary and Isabelle, humble and confident, short and tall. Needless to say, she had gone back to normal, including her height, but it was fun while it lasted.

Pop!

She snapped out of her thoughts as her toast popped out of the toaster, and she covered it in jam and ate it with plain water. When she was done, she tied her hair back, her short, thin, brown hair.

She was currently Nikita, (Okay, so maybe she did go through with some of her fantasies) as she felt light and nimble. And vegetarian. She had eaten absolutely no meat in ten days.

How in the world she could possibly a character who didn't even exist was beyond her, but there she was.

Like magic

Her phone buzzed before she went through the door to the training turret, and she flipped it open to see which of her allies had messaged her.

Huh.

Looks like she had more than just training today.

Pulling out an apple from the cupboards as well, she bit into it as she replied a short text to the messenger.

See you in five hours.

Then she marched through to train.

Clary: Who am I going to meet with? Why was there a three month time skip? Am I as amazing as Nikita? WHAT'S GOING ON?

Chris: You put the vampire in the chapter instead of me. He doesn't even matter. What was the point about talking about his love life?

Clary: I WAS TALLER XDDDDD XO

Chris: What's happened to me in hell?

Clary: Am I officially a badass now? Clary Fray: Fugitive of the Law, or is it Fairchild? I don't care. They're all my identities! But I'm all alone! WHYYY?

Lacie: Will you both shut up! Who you're meeting with will be revealed next chapter or something, yes there was time skip, why, because I felt like having a time skip, distance makes the heart grow fonder you know? Yes you're as amazing as Nikita, I guess, I just wanted to make you like Nikita, yes I put Simon instead of you, why? Because it was relevant and you'll see why later.

Chris: But I'm in hell! How is he relevant?

Lacie: Because it is! Stop asking questions!

Clary: I wanna be Katara from Avatar next! No I wanna be THE Avatar!

Lacie: I said no questions!

Clary: It's not a question! It's a barking command!

Lacie: your command has been overruled by a higher power, said power being me!

Clary: Aww D:

Lacie: Are we done now?

Chris & Clary: I guess.

Lacie: Cool. Sorry to sound so snappy, I've had a boring and uneventful weekend, and I'm kind of cranky from being cooped up at home for so long without doing anything. At least I updated.

Clary: In the end that's all that matters.

Lacie: We have entered a new, age, section, part, chapter, Idk what it's called, but we're in a new era of the story.

Chris: you're telling me, I'm in hell.

Clary: And I'm being chased by the Clave.

Lacie: And you two care about each other very much :D

Clary: If you say so…..In the fanfic I guess

Chris: Don't deny your love Clary, it's sin.

Clary: Says who?

Chris: Says me

Lacie: You know what's sin? Not reviewing. That's a major sin. Don't blacken thy white souls by denying me this request my wonderlovely readers! Make me sparkle with happiness!

Clary: Do it do it do it she starts squealing whenever she gets a review

Chris: even a small one that just says 'love it please update' gets her all hyped up. It's annoying. Don't review, she gets all girly.

Lacie: DON'T TELL THEM TO COMMIT BLASPHEMY! REVIEW REVIEW MY FRIENDS. And forgive me for any grammar mistakes I always write these in a rush.

Clary: See ya! Ask her to make me Katara!

Lacie: DENIED