Lacie: Shout out to Rugenti2569, who used the Liam Neeson voice to threaten me to write faster. I'll give you props, but it didn't work now did it? XD
Chris: *folds his hands together, rests his hands on the table, makes an emotionless face while his face is low over his hands, but his eyes peer up at her from under his lashes**in a low quiet voice that chills the soul like ice running down your back* I will look for your, I will find you, and I will kill you
Lacie: Yes, that voice :D
Chris: *peers around* *looks under desk* *checks under his chair*
Lacie: Umm.. looking for something?
Chris: A certain redhead is missing from our presence.
Lacie: Oh, yeah. Clary said she'd be at our place. She told me this morning saying she wasn't feeling so well.
Chris: Clary's not sick often, does she have a cold?
Lacie: Aww… you feeling protective of your little sister? ;3
Chris: NO. It just sees sort of suspicious…
Lacie: Well either way, a day off won't hurt anyone, not like you've never not been in any of the intros
Chris: Not by my choice anyway.
Lacie: Well, yeah whatever same thing. I'm sure Clary will be just fine.
*At the house the Lacie made Chris and Clary and her live in whilst she took them to make her fanfiction*
Clary: *dancing in her pajamas to music that makes the house vibrate but no mundanes notice*
Clary: *starts singing while making herself a huge breakfast just like in chapter 2* I'm an angel with a shotgun, shotgun, shotgun, an angel with a shotgun shotgun shotgun. Get out your guns, battles begun, are you a saint or a sinner? If love's a fight, then I shall die, with my heart on a trigger…
*back at the studio*
Chris: Did you even check to make sure she was sick? What if she needed medicine?
Lacie: you sure you're not feeling a little protective right now?
Chris: I'm acting like any normal person would!
Lacie: Well you're not normal, meaning that that excuse doesn't work for you!
Chris: Just because I'm a demon
Lacie: No, stop it. By this time in the plot, I think we can agree that you are no longer a demon. You no longer have demon characteristics. You're more like, an angel with a shotgun.
*both of the get this weird shiver, like they should know something*
Chris: That was, a weird choice of words… but anyway, I feel like im more an angel with a reaper scythe.
Lacie: Whatever, let's just do the thing.
Chris: Whatever. Hey guys, so, looks I'm back! Am I back?
Lacie: Yes! You are! But just because you're back doesn't mean that everything is all happy sappy now!
Chris: Because that would mean the end of the story
Lacie: and you're not getting rid of me that easily! Anyway, I don't own TMI, but I do own Chris, now back from hell *throws confetti* and runed Clary! :D
*speaking of Clary*
Clary: *standing atop the kitchen table with a wooden spoon held like a microphone* POKEMON! Gotta catch em, its you and me, I know its y destiny! POKEMON.
Oh and Lucinda Evening Light, to turn your PM on you go to your account options, click settings, and then from there scroll down until you see a small option place that says whether or not you'll accept PM's, and then click YES. :D
Enjoy!
Chris POV
"Ah," Chris said, his teeth slightly chattering, "I can see why English speaking mundanes would find this amusing."
When Chris had woken up only twenty minutes ago, he was sure it was all a dream. He was sure that when he'd wake up he'd still be in that stifling hot environment with its barely edible food and demons that just never see to cease to pop up. But when he sat there, staring at the clouds roam across the blue sky, feeling his breath draw in cold oxygen instead of inhaling the raw acid that was in the air of hell, he felt a shot of excitement shoot through his body.
He had been in some forest, and after a quick examination of himself, he realized that he no longer had any of the weapons that he had claimed his in hell. He guessed that they had remained there, though for what reason, he didn't know.
When he walked only a few steps away from the spot he had awoken on, he had found a highway. After following it for a short distance, he found a small town, with a sign hanging near the entrance.
Because it was winter and there was snow all over the place, ice coated the streets, making the ground slippery and causing icicles to form on the edges of roofs, ranging from large deadly ones that could penetrate your skull and impale you like a shish kabob, to smaller ones like the ones that hung at the bottom of the frozen sign that he now read from.
The sign said Hell.
Hell had frozen over.
Well, he thought amusingly, Hell, Norway that is.
After hearing some of the locals who had walked past (and quite a few of who had done a double take at the sight of him, he hasn't exactly looked at his reflection in a while but he could cause that a while in hell could make you look disheveled and inhumane) speak what he made out as Norwegian, he confirmed that he was indeed in Norway.
Hell, Norway.
Now isn't that interesting?
And it was indeed freezing in Hell. How ironic it was that he was just in hell, feeling the constant pressure of heat and dehydration always lingering around him, but now he could feel the icy hands of cold wrap around him, extinguishing and erasing the idea of hot from his body. His breath came out in cloudy puffs and his leather jacket, which he had never removed in hell and was riddled with tears, holes and various demon ichor stains, did nothing to keep him warm.
Well, that answers many peoples' questions. Hell can be hot AND cold.
A breeze swooped down on him, causing him to hunch his back from the frigid winds.
And unfortunately for me, I have now experienced both.
He shivered again, his teeth chattering slightly, but even though his body reacted against the cold, he really didn't mind it.
The next thing he did, in which he still reveled at being back on Earth, his eyes always roaming up towards the sky as if he were afraid it would suddenly turn red and this was all a hallucination, was to look for a newspaper stand.
He trudged through the small village, really, with more tourist than actual locals. He really wasn't paying attention to the small place though, with only grocery store and one gas station.
He was taking in the fact that he was back. He was finally back. Simply breathing the clean air felt glorious, and he felt like nothing could take him down. He felt like he was a man saved from death, given a new chance to live. He felt like nothing could put him down. Until he found a newspaper somewhere.
Even though it was in Norwegian, he made the date out all right. His eyes almost flew out of his sockets.
Three months.
Has it really been three months since he was sent to hell?
Three whole months of him trekking the vast and dangerous grounds of an environment that would kill you had you not been a demon? Chris barely survived there, and though he knew that he had spent quite a bit of time there, he never knew exactly how much time.
He had been so caught up in just being back that he hadn't realized what it had taken him to get back. He lived in a castle with a demon who hired him to kill of his enemies, made friends with a gremlin, whose fate he would never know now, and was sent back to Earth because Lilith, the women whose demon blood ran through his veins, was enraged by his sudden refusal of power, who became sickened of the sight of him.
The images of how exactly he got back were still fuzzy to him. His mind couldn't register more than the hazy, fogged up feeling like whenever he was conscious in the boat. Although it made sense. He'd seen hell, but was a mortal really meant to see their journey there? After all, all he could remember of going into hell was falling, but he never exactly saw where he was falling through.
Suddenly, instead of feeling like a saved man, he felt like one that was plucked out of his life and only put back into it until ten years later, when all the people he knew has moved on without him. Three months was a long time. Enough to move on.
Clary.
The name, thought, word pressed into his mind with such force he felt like would double over from the pain of it. The pain of not knowing and longing.
Where was she? What had happened to her? Had she remained innocent in the trial with the Clave, or was she still seen as a criminal in their eyes?
Either way, he had to see her, to know how she was. To tell her that he was back, and that he'd never leave again.
The image of her and Jace, in their house, in their home, popped into his mind, and he stubbornly pushed it back down. Chris didn't like the feelings he got from dwelling on it too much, and believe him, although he wasn't very conscious on the ride to Earth, if there was one thing he thought about often, it was that image of them. A sense of heat burned in his chest and anger and the golden boy threatened to overflow at the thought of him even getting near his sister. He might have tolerated it when they were all living together, as long as she loved him as well he didn't care who else she was with, but now, after sharing that time with her, being with her, getting to know her better than he knew himself, he found that he didn't want her to be with anyone. Chris would rather rip out his own heart than see her with someone else now that he was back.
He knew that was selfish of him, but he didn't care. Hot rage pulled up at the thought of Clary looking at Jace, and he pushed down the dark jealousy. He hated being jealous. Almost as much as he hated the idea of Jace with Clary.
So he shoved that memory away. He didn't want to see it. Neither would he believe it. He'd wait until she explained everything. She'd tell him what he wanted to hear. He'd be able to look into her eyes, whether emerald green or dark black like his, he didn't care, they would still be Clary, and run his hand over her hair, hold her and feel her heart beat against his chest. She would be so small, but in reality she had real strength and power in that little body of hers, almost too much energy it was like she was emanating it from her pure being.
But at least from that image of her and golden boy, he could infer that she was not jailed up in some cage. She wasn't imprisoned, and that was good enough for him.
For now.
He needed to find her. It wasn't a matter of question, he just needed to see her, to make sure she was still there. To make sure those few treasured days they'd spent together were real.
My name is Chris, and I just got back from a three month sentence in hell. I need to get to a Portal so that I can go to Switzerland and climb the tower to go to the house so that I can see my sister, my Clary.
It wasn't very long a plan, nor was it exactly detailed in any way, but it was straightforward, and right now, all he could see was what was directly in front of him.
Even if she's not at the house, at their home, at least there he could get his bearings smoothed out and get a handle of what to do next.
The sudden urge to sneeze hit him.
Do Shadowhunters sneeze?
He sneezed again.
Yep, yes we do.
Maybe I should find some basic essentials, he decided as he trudged for the only grocery store in the whole little village.
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Chris's Norwegian was completely nonexistent, but he thought he managed to do pretty well when the female at the cash register at the grocery store blushed vividly and waved her hand, letting him take whatever it is he wanted.
All I did was smile and ask where the nearest religious temple was, he had been planning on going to a church and searching for its weapons that was always left in place for Shadowhunters in need, but when he entered the small store the girl stared at him until he walked up to her and asked. He made a lot of hand gestures that he thought were associated with the words 'church' 'temple' and whatever might have been in the area, but she simply stared at his face the whole time, her mouth slightly open, her elbow which was leaning on the counter between them, just about to slide off. He had grabbed her arm before she fell, and she turned a fierce color of red at his touch.
"So," he pointed around the grocery store, indicating that he was referring to around the village, "Do you know if there are any places like that?"
She just nodded, her hair shaking more than necessary, and continued to give him random items on the shelves, apples, chocolate, mundane baseball cards, then retreated back to the counter as she watched him move confusedly down the aisles.
And when she heard his stomach growl loudly as he looked at the food section, she had even let him heat up a microwavable dinner in the back room.
After he was fed, she showed him to the public bathroom, where he closed the door, and after relieving, he stared at himself in the mirror.
His hair had gotten longer reaching his shoulders, I'll have to cut that, he didn't like his hair that long. His face was slightly clean, considering that he had rubbed a bit of snow on his face to make sure that he wasn't covered in ichor on the way into the village. His clothes could have been far worse, and he would desperately need new ones, preferably ones that didn't make demonic claw marks on them, but he hadn't seen any clothes in the grocery store, so he'd have to make do with what he had.
His stared at his face again, and he scowled.
There, he thought, now it doesn't look so much like Valentine.
Of course he was aware of how girls (and guys, sometimes) stared him as he made his way past them. He knew that they were drawn to him, but sometimes he just found it so hard as to why they were.
There was nothing remarkable in his face. His chin was strong, yet elegant, with high cheekbones and a normal nose.
He had Jocelyn's eyelashes though. When he was younger, he didn't know that, but he always found that anything relating him to his mother made him content, glad to know that not all of him was Valentine.
Though knowing how much Jocelyn despised him, the idea didn't actually bring much comfort.
Perhaps the reason he would never understand why people were attracted to him, was because he hated how he looked.
He loved his eyes though. Even if they were black, even if they were his mark as a demon, they meant he wasn't just Valentine's son, wasn't just his child.
It meant Chris was Chris.
However, he wouldn't mind having green eyes like his sister.
Exiting the bathroom, he nodded towards the cashier girl, making her fluster around and toss him an old looking jacket.
It was black with some sort of fur on the inside, probably fake fur, judging by the quality. He shrugged of his own jacket, tossing it in the trash, and again nodded to the cashier girl.
He saw her edge towards the trash can on his way out. Good thing he had washed away the demon ichor stain on it in the bathroom sink.
Now then, he walked towards the highway that had brought him here. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, allowing his Shadowhunter blood telling him where to go. He remembered telling Clary how to find places that were meant for people of the Shadowworld only, to feel the atmosphere for familiar in it, that recognizable tug that pulled at his blood, that call to his heritage.
Chris suspected that it would take him quite a while to find such a place, but he was absolutely stunned (which he shouldn't have been, considering all the things he's been through) at how fast he found one. You'd think that in a snowy village in Norway, it would take a while to find some Shadowhunter hideout.
The reality was he found it in just under twenty minutes.
However, as he followed the tug that pulled him in the direction of the location, walking down the barren highway which was lined on either side of him with an immense amount of trees, all of them covered in a dusting of snow, he couldn't see the entrance to the place.
Usually, places such as these were disguised in mundane places, such as empty looking stores, or dark alleys, places that aren't exactly hidden, but mundanes aren't likely to go into either.
But…there was nothing here.
He checked in on his internal shadowhunter GPS, making sure he hadn't made a wrong turn or something, but what wrong turn was there to make? The environment around him was exactly the same for miles around!
Could it be a glamour? He hastily thought as he stepped off the highway and into the dense amount of trees which created a canopy of white over his head. What am I not seeing? He thought to himself repeatedly, urging himself to feel the presence of a glamour nearby.
Instinctively, he turned on his heel, and his eyes automatically zoned in on one tree that was farther into the forest, where he would be invisible to any people on the highway, and they to him.
As he walked closer, he could it. He felt like there was in particular about this tree, although what it was, he didn't know, it looked like a complete replica of the tree next to it, and the one behind it, and just about every other tree that he saw. His eyebrows knitted in thought as he stood within a foot of it.
There was no glamour on it, because if there was he should have been able to see through it, or at least have been able to sense it. It looked like a tree. He placed his hand on it, feeling the cold bark on his long fingers. Felt like a tree. So what was so special about it?
A sudden wave of anger and irritation boiled over him. He had to get back to Clary as soon as possible, and here he was feeling trees.
The urge to kick the tree took over, and since there was no one watching, he let it. As he did so, the kick was so hard (and hurt his toe quite a bit) that snow from the lower branches of the tree cascaded down on him, covering his already pale head in even more whiteness.
However, something interesting had happened. When he kicked the tree, instead of a thud coming from his boot as it made contact with the trunk, a hollow echo sounded in his ears. Hollow?
Not only that but after the snow fell on his head, he had looked up, simply to see the branches, and he had to step back a bit to be able to see what he saw properly.
There was a sign nailed to the trunk of the tree, hidden by the branches that obscured it and the snow that had probably covered the words written on it until Chris had kicked it.
It was a wooden plaque, about size of two car license plates wide and four tall, and it was inscribed with black lettering. He didn't know why he hadn't noticed it at first, considering that the black stood out incredibly amongst the white, and at first Chris thought it might have been in Norwegian, but upon looking at closer, he swore he saw the words twist around until they finally settles into English.
The Giving Tree. Giving fellows of the Shadow World help since 1354.
This tree is not to be destroyed, vandalized, or used in any other matter other than the services listed below. WEREWOLVES: This means absolutely NO relieving yourself upon this tree!
Remember, trees can do much more than complete simple mundane needs.
Offenders will be persecuted by the council of faeries of Norway.
Knock once for assistance in traveling.
Knock twice for medical support.
Knock thrice for lodging.
Knock four times for complaints.
Knock five times for customer support.
And if you knock more than five times we will assume that you are the drunk goblin that lives across the mundane highway and forgot which tree is The Giving Tree. A support faerie will be on her way to assist you.
Well, that was an interesting sign.
Chris of course, was immediately set on only knocking once, and he only waited a minute more, unsure if the kick he gave to the tree would be counted as a knock. Apparently not, because the tree remained ever un-giving at the moment.
He raised his fist and knocked once, and almost immediately a huge portion of the bark right in front him slid upward, like a door, revealing a hole that was about three feet wide and four feet tall. As he peered inside, he saw that the inside of the tree was smooth, as if someone had sanded the rough bark, so that it looked more like a chute or a tube.
Except he could see no bottom.
The chute, which led straight down into the ground, was just wide enough for his shoulders to fit, he estimated, and as he looked around the inside of The Giving Tree, another sign was plaque, this one smaller.
Say where you wish to go three times in a row, then step into the chute
Then in much smaller print below that, he read:
The Giving Tree is not responsible for any injuries, wrong turns, or traffic jams that may occur while using its services. The Giving Tree will not transport to any locations that would prove to be difficult to get to using Portals, as said by the Clave in Alicante.
Then, in much, much smaller print:
If you happen to land in a small village with a brick road, DO NOT follow the yellow brick road. Simply step back into the tree or knock for customer support. Thank you.
Chris has never seen or even heard of these sort of 'Giving Trees' in his whole life, and now that he looked at it, the inside of the tree didn't look like it's been necessarily used much in a while.
But they work just like Portals, it says so on the plaque. He argued with himself.
Well, it wasn't like he had any other options now, did he? Not like he had the patience to travel all the way to Switzerland at the moment, neither did he feel like encountering and befriending a warlock who could create Portals and transport him there.
It's this way or the highway, he thought finally.
"I want to go to the castle in Switzerland where my home is connected, I want to go to the castle in Switzerland where my home is connected, I want to go to Switzerland where my home is connected." He felt completely ridiculous saying it out loud, and especially to a tree, but now wasn't the time for embarrassment.
Picturing the outside of the tower that also housed the training room, he let himself get nearer to the opening in the tree. He wondered if he was just supposed to let himself fall, or was he supposed to wait for something? How could he step into the chute when there was nothing to step into?
He just starting to feel a bit apprehensive by the time he had placed one foot against the interior of the trunk on the opposite side of the opening, his other hand above his foot so that he could adjust himself inside of the chute before letting himself fall.
Ducking his head, Chris felt very locked up when he was inside of the chute, feeling like he was too big and that he would get stuck on the way down. He had placed both hands and feet on either side of the inside of the trunk, pressing against the inside so that he wouldn't slide down. It was still cold inside the tree, but he could feel a draft coming from the vast drop beneath him. He was honestly considering getting out and thinking of another plan, but before he could even consider getting out, the wooden panel that had slid open suddenly slid back into place, leaving him trapped inside in darkness.
Now what, Chris?
Well, there as only one way to go, and that way was down, from where he was.
Taking a breath, he let himself drop.
It was thrilling.
Chris wasn't one for extremeness. He absolutely detested the roller coasters that mundanes so often enjoy. Let it be known that he did not favor the feeling of having your body wrenched back and forth by a force you could not stop, and the feeling that you were about to fly out of your seat and that your innards were rearranging themselves inside of you while you were flipped over and under and loop de looped all over.
But this was different. Chris loved going fast. And fast didn't even describe it.
For the first few seconds after he let himself fall, that was all it was, falling. For horrible seconds, he was reminded of his descent into hell, and his mind was yelling at him to do something to stop himself from getting to the bottom. It didn't help that the deeper he fell, the warmer the inside of the chute got, bringing back the memories of the hot blistering heat of the demon realm with a little too much clarity. But soon, it no longer felt like he was falling, he was still moving at the same speed, but he felt the chute shift, and now, he was moving horizontally, the chute running parallel to the ground above him, like an underground tunnel.
He didn't know what magic was causing him to move through the chute like water through a pipe, but his head was first, his feet trailing behind him, his body ramrod straight, and he was zooming through like Super Man.
The interior of the chute changed in material every so often. First it was the material of the tree he had stepped into, then it was some other tree, oak, he thought, and then birch, poplar, and so on. As he continued to move through 'The Giving Tree' transportation chute, at some point he let himself turn, so that his back was facing downwards and his eyes faced the chute walls inches above him. As he flew past them, he saw holes in the chute, tunnels that led straight upward and away from his chute -into more Giving Trees, perhaps?
In front of him too, he passed by several forks in the road, different chutes that led off to who knows where, and at one point, when he was turning into another tunnel, he thought he had even seen the heel of someone's shoe as they flew upward, having reached their destination.
Chris was just about to wonder when he'd know it was his time to come back up when suddenly his body was jerked, as if he were walking with his eyes closed and someone pulled on his sleeve slightly to the side, and he was moving upward, the temperature in the chute generally getting colder as he moved away from the earth's center. Higher and higher up he went, and he was thinking how was going to get out of the tree –would he have to stop himself? What if he just smacked right into the end of the chute at the top of the tree?— when he saw a bright light enter the chute. Looking upward, he saw the rectangle of light grow larger, and as he got nearer, he realized it was the entrance to the tree, and before he could place his hands on the side of the tree to stop his momentum, he was chucked out, like the tree had vomited him out, or more like kicked him out of its inside, and he barely managed to twist himself into a crouch before he landed on his head.
Looking at the tree, Chris saw it close its bark door, the piece sliding into its place so perfectly that not even his sharp eyesight could tell it apart from the rest of the bark.
"Thank you Giving Tree," he spoke, pushing his windswept hair back, before momentarily freezing, his hand still in his hair.
Standing right before him, was the castle in Switzerland that he had aimed to come to, the turret only a block from him.
He wasted no more time.
Sprinting with all the speed in him, he pumped energy into his feet, and when he thought he was the perfect distance, he jumped, latching onto the brick of the turret twenty feet above the ground.
Relishing the exercise that his body was getting, and completely unconcerned about who may be watching, though he sensed no one around, he climbed upward.
In hell, his energy, his strength, his inability to get tired easily and power, had been subdued, less than what it normally had been. He could still fight and do everything that he could normally do, but at the cost of feeling like his body would drop from the exertion he was putting into it.
But here, here he felt unstoppable. He had almost forgotten how easy it was to run at top speed, to climb with little effort, had taken for granted his special abilities.
It was as if he had been living the past three months with a ton of weight on his back and he had just now taken it off.
When he had reached the top windows, he was bursting with so much energy he was ready to just punch his fist through the glass, jump through, and land all the way to ground, however, when he reached the top, he saw that one of the windows were slightly open, as if someone before him had come in the same way he had and didn't bother to close it.
He couldn't count on it being a mundane, the tower had wards for that, but then who?
Could Clary have used it?
In his vision from the shard he received from the Greater Demon, he had seen her in the house, but now he wasn't so sure whether he had imagined it or not, so he couldn't be certain. But he didn't dismiss the possibility.
That question was immediately followed by another as he slipped his way through the door and peered into his training room.
Or, at least he thought it was his training room, well his and Clary's, but upon entering, it seemed as though someone else had used it for themselves.
There were weapons scattered all over the place some propped up against the walls, and others in their wrong places. The place had the feel of being recently used, when Chris half expected it to be covered in a layer of dust.
Another small sliver of hope crept into him.
Could Clary be here? He immediately let go of the sliver of hope. He couldn't expect anything. He couldn't. For all he knew, some warlock could have snuck into the place and taken it for his own. After he took down the wards and glamours, anyway.
Not only that, but there was a huge stack of papers pushed aside a wall of the training turret. He flicked through them quickly, his eyes growing wide and his mind swelling with the information. Words flicked by his vision as he skimmed through everything.
Clarissa Morgenstern, fugitive of Shadowhunter-murderer of Counsel-escaped-searches continue-has appeared in Vampire dwelling-Lightwood family suspicious-a new generation of The Circle?
The words flashed by his mind, each one bringing more understanding to him, but with it more questions as well.
Clary, a fugitive?
That means that she escaped, that she ran away, but why? Because she killed the Counsel? Clary was capable of many things, but of murder? He couldn't help the smug smile on his face and a surge of pride for her though. The old guy had it coming.
And what was this about a vampire dwelling? Why was Clary there? The Lightwood thing was obvious, he'd seen Jace with Clary, so why wouldn't the rest of the family be with her too?
New generation of The Circle? Now what was that all about? And since when did they refer to Clary as a Morgenstern?
He picked and pulled at all the pieces, putting them together until he could make as much sense of them as he could. This wouldn't do though, he needed to know more.
He jogged towards the door to go out of the turret, but not before taking a weapons belt from the brick pillars supporting the ceiling and loading it with weapons (oh how good it felt to hold a familiar blade in his hand again)He left the training turret, winding up the stairs and running up the slope that made his way up towards the kitchen, the witchlight that constantly glowed illuminating his path. The path felt worn, as if it had been tread upon by a lot of people in the past few days.
He had to admit it, someone had been here, and know he had a pretty good idea of who.
And Chris didn't necessarily know how he felt about that.
Opening the door to the kitchen, he half expected to see the house empty, completely devoid of life, which would disprove his theories of someone living here. The other half of him had the desire to see Clary sitting on the stools, leaning against the counter that separated the kitchen and living room to peer at the television screen, a cup of hot chocolate in her hands, waiting for him to join her in the seat next to her.
What he did see, was not what Chris would have ever anticipated, although he should have expected it.
From the kitchen, the spot on the wall where the door could be summoned was visible. However, he didn't see just the blank wall. Chris saw the door, thrown open, revealing apartment buildings and from what he could clearly tell was New York.
But that wasn't what surprised him.
What surprised him was what appeared to be about forty Shadowhunters fighting in a full out battle right beyond the threshold.
They all fought on the apparently empty neighborhood street, it was winter, therefore no one was outside, meaning that no mundanes were watching them, not that they would, glamours were heavier when the number of Shadowhunters in one area increased.
Rushing towards to stand by the door, he was able to see a flash of electrum, and Isabelle Lightwood slashed her whip across the air towards several Shadowhunters that had encircled her and her brother, Alexander. A growl and the sound of heavy paws announced the presence of the two lycanthropes, Maia and Jordan, he believed their names were, followed by the sudden strike across his vision as the Daylighter jumped in and flung three Shadowhunters away from Isabelle before they could corner her.
He saw the shadow of a body and stepped to the side just as a body was thrown up against the house, a mere two feet from where he was standing.
A shine of gold met his vision first, and he realized he was looking at Jace as he regained his footing. The golden boy's eyes widened as he made eye contact with the black eyed boy's. Jace's hand made a move for the seraph blade tucked into his belt, but Chris's eyes had found a trace of red beyond the street.
Clary?
Jace's eyes had followed where Chris had been searching, and the two sons of Valentine seemed to look at each other for two seconds, a compromise settling between the two.
Because at that moment, they had a common goal.
Settling a seraph blade into his hand, making it glow its soft green light, Chris and Jace charged as one.
Only this time, they both did it voluntarily. No runes forcing the other to work with them.
And that made all the difference to Chris.
Jumping into a large pack of the Clave's Shadowhunter, Chris relished in the fight, using not only his weapons, but his hands and feet as well, kicking off people and using the momentum of the jump to land on others, his knees hitting them in the neck so that they immediately blacked out, and commenced to lunge at others. At one point he had even climbed up the stairs and half ran up the wall to attack one that was about to stab Isabelle Lightwood in the back. He didn't know why he stopped them, why he saved her, he should be following Jace as he made his way across the street, made his through to the especially thick circle of Shadowhunters across the street, where an orange red flicker, moving as fast as a shadow, jumped, pounced, dodged this way and that, keeping the tightening knot of Shadowhunters back, but for who knows how long.
Isabelle POV
Her first instinct had been to lash her whip out at him, and maybe this time she'd get the electrum to wrap around his neck instead of his wrist.
Her next instinct was to step back as he lunged at something behind her, someone, a Clave member who she hadn't even noticed, who had been about to stab her in the back, and watched for two seconds as he kicked them in the center of their chest, the impact making them fly halfway across the street.
The white blonde hair of Sebastian's head was next to her for half a second before he rushed off, heading towards the thicker part of the battle, where she was also trying to get to.
Sebastian saved her.
No, she let herself realize, Chris saved me.
The she turned away from the half greater demon that killed her brother, that just saved her life, to fight another Clave member that wanted her dead.
Alec POV
Did Sebasti- No, Chris, did he just save his sister?
He'd seen the male Shadowhunter, his raised blade ready to strike as it glinted in the sunlight, and Alec had been about to dislodge himself from his own combatant to help Izzy, when Chris had gotten there first. Probably way before Alec could have gotten there.
But when had he gotten back? Magnus hadn't summoned him, unless he had done it already. But Alec could have sworn he saw Chris come through the front door of the house, in that case, where in the Angel did he come from?
He ducked a punch that was aimed for his nose and curled his fist as he struck his hand into the collar of the Shadowhunter in front of him, quickly flipping backwards to avoid a sword that swept across the air where he had just been standing.
Jace had ran towards the circle of Shadowhunters across the street, and Alec was trying to get there too, but it was as if the Shadowhunters were trying to keep them there, stop them from going anywhere, keep them separated from one another.
A weight crashed into his stomach as he realized that was exactly what they wanted to do, and as he did a quick spin on his heel, sweeping the feet out from under a female Shadowhunter in the progress, he noticed that there was one person he could not see.
Clary.
His eyes trailed to the circle of Shadowhunters, where he saw a red blur flash in the center of it. Where he saw Jace and Chris heading towards.
Oh no…
Jordan POV
The more I see of Shadowhunters, the less sorry I feel for them.
Hunters of Shadows his ass, he didn't care whether or not they held back demons from coming into the mortal world, right now, they were bring a huge pain in his paws.
He hadn't gone full werewolf, Maia had, but he liked to use it as a last resort. Besides, there weren't any Demon Shadowhunters, so it could be worse.
Nevertheless, there were only seven of them, and dozens of them. The odds were completely against them. It was only a matter of time…
A shadow sprang across his peripheral vision, and he turned towards it, turning so fast that his outstretched arms whacked a Clave member in the temple in process, knocking them out cold.
A flash of white, and the devil himself landed on his feet in front of him, pulling out his blade and facing four opponents on his own, and managing to defeat all of them in under five seconds.
When the new comer was done, he faced Jordan, giving a smirk to the several Clave members who were taking a snooze thanks to Jordan and Maia, "Nice aim. The temple's a good place to hit."
Jordan's lips tilted upwards, "Thanks, so how was hell?"
Chris grinned before moving on, following Jace into the throng of Shadowhunters across the street. "Which one?"
Simon POV
Clary.
He'd lost sight of her, she had immediately disappeared beneath the swarm of Shadowhunters that jumped on her, and even though Simon knew her capabilities, something in his un-beating heart, something that connected him to Clary for mysterious reasons, told him something was off.
His arms and chest burned, having been doused by a flask of holy water. These guys hadn't come unprepared. He tried scaling the houses, so that he could drop right in the center and try to get to Clary, but there was always one Shadowhunter with their eye on him, it was like they knew that all they had to do was keep Clary separated from everyone else, and they'll succeed.
And Simon hated it because he knew it was true.
Without Clary, how could they hope to get out of there?
"You know, for a vampire, you're not being very quick." A voice taunted him, and Simon turned to see Clary's brother, Chris, dashing in front of him, disabling the pesky Shadowhunter that Simon had been trying to throw off. "You've got to be a bit more forceful with them."
"What should I do? Bare my fangs at them until they cower in fear?" Simon rolled his eyes, surprisingly.
To his astonishment, the guy laughed, while Simon cocked his head to the side, narrowly avoiding a blade that would have pierced his ear, and reached his hand out, changing its momentum so that the blade was flung back into the direction it came from.
"Or you can do that, I think it's more effective," Chris disappeared back into the heat of the battle, and Simon followed in his wake. Because he knew that Chris was here to help Clary.
He'd seen Clary talk about Chris.
And the same look that was in Clary's eye whenever she talked about Chris, was in Chris's eyes now.
Chris POV
He didn't know why he helped her friends.
It felt like it was something he had to do, something she would have wanted him to do. He could almost imagine Clary's shrill voice as she would shriek at him, "Why didn't you stop to help them you idiot! It wouldn't have taken you more than three seconds, or is the big demon too chicken?"
The thought brought even more speed to his legs, more adrenaline into his arms. Jace flanked his right, and they both attacked simultaneously, trying to part through the ring of Shadowhunters. Another flash of red caught his eye, and then a yelp of pain.
Clary.
Someone in the center of the ring shouted, "Grab her while she's down!"
The ring of people opened up just enough, just an inch, for him to see someone flick a blade across her right shoulder, from her collar bone to the upper arm. Red blood dripped from the wound.
Then the circle closed up again.
Chris shouted, a cry of outrage, and it wasn't until he reached forward to shove, trample, kill the Shadowhunters in front of him to get to her, to get to Clary, when he saw that Jace was shouting too, screaming in anger.
They both had a common goal, an alliance for now. And that alliance was what made them unstoppable.
He felt movement on his left and he deflected the blow coming towards his temple by raising his left arm and swinging his long leg out to kick someone in the chest. He didn't bother to see who it was, man, women, adult, child, it just didn't matter.
Chris spun his blade around his fingers, making it cut here and there, jumping to and fro, Jace mirroring his actions behind them. At one point they had gotten back to back, Jace ducking from a Shadowhunter lunging at him, allowing Chris to grab the man's neck and slam him to the ground.
Finally, he grabbed at Jace's arm, with a look of his eyes telling him that they needed to get to the middle, now.
The golden boy nodded his head in agreement, and a second later, they both stepped back and jumped into the center of the crowd, Jace flying past farther than him.
Just as Chris was about to land, he saw someone smack the butt of their blade into Clary's chest, and Clary looked done. There was a haunted look in her eye, a look that made him want to tuck her head against him and never let her go, a look that said she was done, that she no longer had any motivation left to fight.
She didn't need to fight.
Because he would fight all he could for her.
He didn't time to catch her, because already there was someone on their way to get their hands on her, to take her to who knows where, so as she fell he jumped over her, lunging at the attacker who dared to get near her. Spinning in a wide circle, he made everyone around them, Chris in front of Clary, Jace behind her, step back. They did for a second, but not before everyone went haywire at the sight of them.
Or more so, at the sight of him.
"By the Angel!"
"How is this bastard alive!"
"Don't let him escape!"
Chris pulled a small dagger from his weapons belt and began to fight against all of them, his inner demon hungry for it. He would defeat them all. He would get out of there. He would get them out of there.
"Get the girl!"
Chris was in midair when someone shouted this, a women, as he aimed his elbow into throat of a full grown male Shadowhunter. He only managed to yell, "Jace!" before the women reached Clary. In his peripheral vision he saw Jace step in front of the women, raising his blade to meet hers before it swung down onto Clary's exposed neck.
His concern over Clary temporarily subdued, he turned back to his task of keeping everyone back, away from them, even if it meant having to hurt all of them. For a second he had managed to spot the others in the gang, the Daylighter, the Lightwoods, and the lycanthropes, all still on the other side of the circle, but making fair progress towards them.
Another scream went out, he was surprised the mundanes hadn't heard any of this commotion, but this one was different. It was full of absolute agony, a sound like pure suffering.
Chris turned, his mind whirling with possibilities. Had they gotten to Clary? Had they hurt her?
But that was not what he saw.
Blood. He was not new to blood. He knows its red texture, its thick, dark, black liquid. The liquid of life.
And there was so much of it.
Clary was unharmed, which calmed for about half a second, but then he saw another body slump to their knees.
Jace screamed, blood pouring like faucet down his body, already a pool of it collecting around his feet, some of it staining Clary's hair, making it look darker that it already was.
In absolute horror, Jace clamped his right hand over left shoulder, trying to stop the blood coming from his left arm—
No.
Not from his left arm.
From where his left arm used to be.
On the ground, merely two feet from where he laid, Jace's mutilated left arm, covered in blood, no longer a part of his body. The golden boy clamped his hand over the stump, his arm having been cut off from the shoulder.
The women who Jace had stepped in front of to get to Clary still held the long knife that had done the job, its blade glimmering, also as if in triumph, with his blood.
Chris's mind went into autopilot. It was as if he were longer there, all he knew were the things that kept repeating in his mind as his body moved on its own accord.
If Jace continues likes this, he will die. If he dies, Clary will be devastated.
Chris's arm rose up and cut the women with the dagger across her chest so fast not even his own eyes saw it.
His hand squeezed around the woman's neck, flinging her as far away from them as possible, incomprehensible noises emanating from her throat. Or was that him making sounds?
I can't let Clary be sad.
All of the Shadowhunters around him attacked at once, and he was like a hurricane against small raindrops. Unbeatable.
It's my job to protect her, from no matter what.
Even if that meant saving Jace.
Screams of horror went off as the rest of the gang finally made it in the middle of the crowd, helping to get rid of the rest of the Shadowhunters.
"Jace!" Isabelle wailed, running towards him.
"By the Angel!" The blue eyes boy knelt with her, their hands working quickly.
"What do we do?!" Isabelle sobbed.
A wolf cry went out as the two lycanthropes, both in werewolf form, encircled them, keeping the remainder of the Shadowhunters at bay.
"Step aside," he told the two Lightwoods, casting away his jacket and ripping it in half. He placed the jacket onto Jace's bleeding stump. The golden eyes Shadowhunter's eyes were barley flickering.
"Wrap the arm too, it might still be able to be saved," he said, tossing the other half of the jacket towards Alec, the boy rushing to do his task.
"Help him up," Chris told Isabelle, not as an order, but simply telling her what to do. And she made no question. He grabbed Jace's right arm and slung it over his own shoulders, helping the guy up to his feet. Jace barely managed to remain standing, dizzy from blood loss, while Isabelle traced iratzes onto his collar bone, her hand carefully holding Chris's jacket over his wound.
"Someone grab Cla—" his voice stopped midsentence, his eyes trailing towards where Clary was laying down, unconscious, yet safe.
No, no, she was right there.
She had been right there.
"Clary!" Simon shouted, as the Daylighter made a mad run, his body only a shadow as it moved so fast, towards a Shadowhunter that retreated amongst many others, ones that Chris had intended to let leave, let the leave, he didn't care.
But now he wanted to murder them, because slung across the broad shoulders of a Shadowhunter was Clary, her head bobbing against the Shadowhunter's broad back.
He wanted to run, to run after her, to save her, and in the distance, he saw something that made him yelled, enraged.
A Portal, they were going to escape through a Portal.
How could he have been so blind!
"Take him!" Chris ordered Isabelle this time, shoving Jace off of him a little too hurriedly, for Jace gave a gasp of pain, and Isabelle shot him a glare as she caught him in her arms, Alec helping to drag the golden boy towards the house.
But Chris wasn't focused on that anymore. He focused on the retreating Shadowhunter that carried his sister away, far away.
Not again, not again, he thought over and over again, his thoughts getting darker by each breath he took. They won't take her from me again!
The Daylighter had disabled several of the Shadowhunters that flanked the broad shouldered Shadowhunter, all of them seeming to have only one task: to take Clary.
Like hell they will!
He willed his legs to move faster, to carry him further, willed time to slow down, so that he could speed up. They were only feet away from the Portal, and Chris was so much more behind. So much more.
The werewolf Jordan barreled his head against a female Shadowhunter, pushing past her, moving towards Clary.
Someone reach her, please!
Every muscle in his body seemed to scream, the very particles in his mind trying to pull forward, everything trying to help him reach her in time.
The Daylighter flashed in front of the broad shouldered Shadowhunter, blocking his path, and guy slammed into Simon with as much force as if he had run into a wall. The guy fell backwards, losing his grip on Clary, but before she hit the ground, Maia managed to catch her on her fur back, Clary's limp body draped across her spine like a towel on the back of a chair.
Maia immediately turned away from the Portal, intending to retreat, but just as she was about to move towards the house, a sharp dagger, flung by the broad shouldered Shadowhunter, pierced the werewolf's hide, the blade sinking only two inches from Clary's extended arm. Maia howled, causing Jordan to growl and lunge at the Shadowhunter, his jaws snapping.
Chris, in the meanwhile, decided that no one was leaving without him properly saying so. Some of the Shadowhunters, those cowards, had flung themselves through the Portal, yet the majority, those who weren't already laying immobile on the ground, stayed. There were only about ten left now.
And they were last to make it this long for a reason. These ten knew how to fight better, they fought as a team, and not just striking when they saw fit. Chris could see their moves fitting together, timing their attacks so that they could strike at him when they thought they could get him. Although took longer to taken them down than the others, Chris altogether didn't feel like they were a challenge, but he respected their attempt. When he was done with them, he shoved their unconscious or limp bodies near the Portal, where they were sucked in and taken to wherever it was that they were going.
Jordan wasn't done yet though.
Everyone was busy with a task at hand. Isabelle and Alec were trying to keep a dying Jace from dying near the threshold of the house, Simon was dragging the bodies of the fallen Shadowhunters towards the Portal as well, Jordan was still locked in a match with the broad Shadowhunter, and Maia was painfully making her way towards the house, her fur dyed red where blood spilled.
Chris should have gone to help Clary, but yet again, his mind made another split second decision he never would have thought capable before. The direst situation was Jace, and Chris strode over to him, pulling out his stele.
Isabelle stiffened as he got near, but said nothing as he drew what he remembered was one of Clary's better runes for healing. Immediately, some of the color in Jace's face returned, so that he no longer resembled a sheet of paper so much.
Clary.
Now that his good deed was done, he turned toward what he really wanted. Maia was just getting near them, her movements sluggish, but she collapsed onto her legs, her head lolling to the side slightly.
"Maia!" Isabelle cried and she immediately left Jace in her brother's care as she went to help pull the dagger from the werewolf's side, where Clary was still draped over.
Finally making his way to her, he gently nudged her off, careful not to jostle her much. It was strange, finally being able to hold her, to touch her, to have him in her arms. His spirits plunged when he caught sight of all of her wounds, especially the cut done across her shoulder, but they would heal. She was would be better.
He hoisted her up bridal style, pushing back the hair from her forehead.
You're going to be okay now.
He felt something burn behind his eyes, and for a strange second he thought they'd be tears, but when nothing came, he shook off the feeling.
A growl followed by a howl sounded, and Chris saw Jordan throw the lump of the broad shouldered Shadowhunter into the Portal just before it closed.
For a moment, no one said anything.
And then everyone was looking at him.
At first they looked at him as if expecting some grand speech, but then their eyes widened, their mouths slightly ajar.
Chris ignored them. They were probably just realizing that it was actually him back from hell, and that's why they were so shell shocked.
"We should all go inside, before the send back up." He announced, stepping past the threshold.
Slowly, they all trickled into the house. Alec and Isabelle still carried Jace between them, Jace was breathing heavily despite the rune Chris had placed, and Jordan helped Maia in, her hand clasped across her side. Simon entered last, and he slammed the door shut, pushing the deadbolts and stepping back as the door disappeared, only the wall visible now.
A silence followed them for a moment. Chris counted Clary's breaths as her chest rose three times.
And then the questions rang out.
"How in the name of Raziel are you here!?"
"Aren't you dead or something?"
"How did you find us!?"
"How long have your eyes been green?"
The last question caught him off guard, and turned towards Maia, who was leaning against the wall as she took in deep breaths.
"What?" he asked.
"Your eyes," she repeated, "They're green."
He shook his head, "You're wrong. Either that or color blind. Did you hit your head or something?"
Everyone looked at him, and Simon's eyes perked at something across the room, but before he could voice his concerns, Isabelle demanded, "Jace, stay awake!"
Jace groaned; his brow covered in cold sweat, his body slightly shaking.
Alec frowned, "He needs medical support, a Silent Brother."
Chris shifted Clary so that her head was resting on his shoulder, "We can't, going out into the world will only get us caught. There's a first aid kit in the cupboards."
"Everything's in the cupboards," Alec mumbled as he dashed for the kitchen, but his legs stopped moving immediately, his eyes spotting something in the living room, roughly in the same spot as Simon had been gazing at.
"About time you all noticed me."
Chris spun on the spot at the familiar voice. A voice that he had only heard once, and not in person.
As they lounged across the couch, this was the first time he was truly able to actually see the person. Wearing dark navy blue jeans with black sneakers propped up against the coffee table, a white long sleeved shirt that fit him well, but didn't exactly stick to his torso, and a baseball cap that concealed most of the shock of curly red hair, just like Clary's.
As they turned their head, hazel eyes bored into all of them.
"What are—" Chris began, but the warlock interrupted him as if he didn't hear.
"I'm no Silent Brother, but I can heal pretty well."
Simon stepped forward, "Excuse me, but who are you, and how did you get in here?"
The warlock stood, not very tall, much shorter than all of them in the room, but not exactly short either.
"My name's Emery, and I'm Clary and Chris's possible great great great great times a whole lot of great's granduncle." His eyes passed over all of their shocked forms. "Also, let me allow to tell you that I am not color blind, therefore I'm pretty sure that girl was right to tell you that your eyes are indeed green."
Lacie: so… tired
Clary: *no longer sick but misses being home* WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG TO UPDATE?
Lacie: in short? School and books. I need to read me books.
Chris: I'm back from hell. Just like that?
Lacie: don't question my methods.
Clary: *suddenly stands and smacks Lacie across the arm*
Lacie: OW! *shoots her a dirty look*
Clary: That was for Jace! What did you do to him!
Chris: I'm actually quite happy with how he ended up.
Clary: *smacks him too*
Lacie: I really don't know why I did that. I hadn't planned that. I was just typing and, the idea came to me, out of nowhere….
Clary: WHY ARE YOU TAKING IDEAS FROM NOWHERE. YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE THEY'VE BEEN. They could be the ideas of a sociopath for all you know!
Chris: This chapter was stupid
Lacie: *starts sneezing again*
Clary: *smacks Lacie again, this time with a paper fan* and that's for keeping me unconscious this whole chapter.
Lacie: hey, I was planning on having you actually being taken away into the Portal by the broad shouldered dude, and that you'd be captured by the Clave again, but then I thought nah, that's too repetitive, and saved you
Clary: And you want me to be grateful for that?
Lacie: I want you to put that baseball bat down…..please…*eyes baseball bat that appeared in Clary's hands suddenly*
Clary: Oh, no, now you face MY WRATH
Lacie: Clary, Clary no, please stop, Clary, CLARY!
Chris: We interrupt this program due to the vast amount of wrath being expelled from this single broadcast room, we will be expecting a new report to come soon with the next chapter. Sorry for the long wait, school sessions and interactions were messing with our broadcasting signal, and we expect that to clear up soon. In the meantime please don't forget to review and complain or congratulate or simply to say hi. Or you could PM me about how happy you are that I'm back, regardless of how I'm back. More exciting stuff to come next chapter.