Lacie: My apologies for any, umm…hate that you felt towards the last chapter. Someone said that they felt like the events were a little too convenient, like the fact that Emery 'just happened to there.' I was in a rush while I wrote the ending and any things that I failed to mention are because….brain fart.

Clary: *giggles*you said fart

Chris: *groans* be more mature Clarissa.

Clary: Shut up Jonathan Christopher

Chris: Clarissa Adele

Clary: Jonathan Christopher

Chris: Clarissa Adele

Clary: Jonathan Christopher

Chris: Clarissa Adele

Lacie:…..Lacie Abyss :D

Chris: That's not your real name though

Clary: ….it's not?

Lacie: Yeah, where have you been?

Clary: Apparently not where you said what your real name is, what is it?

Lacie: That's classified.

Chris: Now that you mention it, I don't know what it is either….

Lacie: That's because I never actually told you guys

Clary: Well, we deserve to know

Lacie: And give me one good reason why?

Chris: You've been holding us prisoners for almost a year

Lacie: *says quickly* Give me two reasons

Clary: You owe us for all the things you've done to us

Lacie: which would be…..?

Clary: Kidnap me from my home

Chris: That one time you sent me to hell

Clary: Create a rune that gives painful seizure like acts every day for twelve days

Chris: Having Clary be kidnapped in Saudi Arabia

Clary: Making me punch a mirror

Chris: Sent me to hell

Clary: Made us become the number one targets of the Clave

Chris: Got us captured by the Clave

Clary: Made me a fugitive

Chris: Did I mention you sent me to hell?

Lacie: STOP! Too bad you don't get to know my name, mwaahahahahah I'm evil like that

Clary & Chris: Bu-

Lacie: *uses authoress powers* hush! *they fall silent* *they glare silently at Clary* Well then *kicking feet up onto table while Clary pulls at her mouth to make it move* Hello you guys, welcome back to the wonderful world of fanfiction, you are all incredibly wonderlovely people who deserve hugs but I'm probably way too far away from all of you so you all get this chapter! I don't own TMI, and you all don't know my name! Isn't anonymity great!

Enjoy!

Chris POV

As Chris's grip on Clary tightened, his arm around her shoulders and his hand holding her head, he pulled his hand back when he felt drying blood rub off of on his hand. Gently feeling the back of her skull, he felt more blood.

She must have cracked her head slightly, he realized, suddenly holding her a lot more gingerly than before.

The cut across her shoulder was still bleeding, though thanks to her Shadowhunter blood, it was already healing, but that didn't mean the wound was any less painful, neither did it make it immune to infection. The way she was breathing told him that maybe a rib or two had been damaged, and he shifted her into a more comfortable position.

He hadn't noticed exactly how harmed she was until Emery had whisked Jace off.

The stupid warlock had gone on with his speculations about how exactly Chris's eyes turned green suddenly, which he still found hard to believe because there was no mirror or reflective surface that could show him the color of his eyes.

"Perhaps your return from hell, Clary told me, by the way, that's how I know you were in hell, caused some sort of suction on some of your demonic abilities, but that would be strange, because I was here the whole time, and when you zoomed out of that door in the kitchen you looked like you still had black eyes. How peculiar…" The warlock removed his hat, revealing even more of his bright curly red hair.

Chris clenched his teeth, "How did you even get in—"

Isabelle interrupted his sentence by shouting, "Jace!"

Jace looked like he could regain consciousness no longer as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, the pain finally overwhelming him.

"Jace, stay awake!" Alec yelled at his parabatai.

Isabelle looked over at the warlock, her eyes pleading, "Can't you do something?!"

Emery cocked his head to the side and then summarily snapped his fingers, causing what looked like an old fashioned medical tent to appear in place of the couch and coffee table. The red headed male jerked his head to the tent, "Drag him over here."

The pair of siblings moved their adopted brother as carefully and quickly as they could, the disembodied hand of Jace still wrapped and held underneath Alec's arm. Keeping his teeth clenched so that he could refrain himself from shouting at the warlock, biting back questions like 'How in the world do you know my eyes are black?' and 'How in the Earth and hell did you even get here?' but he kept them back. He may not have trusted the warlock, but even a cut off limb was beyond his power of healing, not to mention that though the warlock had annoyed him in 2.2 seconds, he could feel the magick and power practically radiating off of the warlock.

He could wonder how Emery had gotten into the house through all the protective enchantments and glamours that he practically bombarded the house with (all of them which were still there, given the fact that he would have known had any of them been broken) later, especially about how much Clary told him. He'd only seen the warlock once before, and when he had, his sister and him didn't look like they were the best of comrades. He looked back down into his arms, where Clary hadn't stirred in the slightest. His worry for her intensified now that the distraction personified had left.

Not a sound was coming from the tent, giving him the impression that it was sound proofed, and that led him to finally raise his gaze around to who was left in the room.

The two lycanthropes were leaning against each other, the girl Maia holding her side still, her clothes there soaked with blood.

"Babe, we should tend to that," Jordan whispered to her, but Chris didn't know why he whispered, considering that the only people left in the room were Chris and Simon, and they both had super hearing, and Clary was unconscious.

Maia gave a glance at Chris, in which he didn't bother to look away, matching the werewolf's gaze until she turned back to Jordan. "I'm fine, I just need to take a nap or something."

"That wound isn't going to go away even with your faster healing abilities." He insisted.

"Then what do you suggest I do?" she pointedly glared at him.

Jordan looked from Simon, to Chris, then back to Simon. Chris wasn't in any particular deep relationship with either of them, and except for the short sentences that they exchanged during the battle not even ten minutes ago, the few brief seconds that Chris paused to speak to them, he thought he pretty much understood what they exchanged.

Jordan: You think you'll be alright?

Simon: I can handle, go do what you've got to do

Chris looked as Jordan draped an arm across his girlfriend's shoulders, Maia somewhat reluctantly leaving with him, and they both retreated to a room upstairs. But not before Maia had eyed him suspiciously. You'd think that after what he did in battle, she'd be a little less apprehensive, but he altogether, he understood her reason for suspicion. After hearing a door open and close, one that did not sound like either his or Clary's, he assumed that Clary had opened some of the guest rooms.

After a second of silence, Chris realized that other than himself and Clary, the Daylighter Simon was still there. They both turned to look each other in the eye at the exact same time.

Simon's eyes narrowed at Clary's body. "She's still bleeding you know."

Chris frowned, looking down at Clary, "I know."

In mute silence, they both moved towards the stairs, Simon walking behind him, whether to watch Clary or watch him, he didn't know. He paused in front of the two bedrooms that belonged to them, hesitating whether or not to put her in her room or in his own.

Choosing the fact that he shouldn't let anyone into his sister's room without her say so, despite the fact that they were her best friend, he unlocked his own door, moving sideways so as to not bump Clary's head against the door frame.

The room looked exactly the way it had as the day when Clary first stepped foot in the house. He hadn't ever adorned it, no embellishments to distinguish it as his own. He'd been planning on doing that in a later time, especially since he spent little time in his own room anyway, except to sleep, and even then, there had been those few days when he spent his nights in her room.

His four poster bed, mirror, desk, and wardrobe looked like they hadn't been touched in months. As he walked towards the mattress, he felt like he was disturbing the air, as if even the air around him had settled and hadn't been tousled in quite a long time.

It occurred to him that Clary perhaps hadn't allowed anyone into the room. Not even herself.

He mentally shook himself. Now was not the time for nostalgia.

Chris shifted a little, easing Clary as carefully as he could onto the covers. He gently turned her head to the side, pulling her hair out of its ponytail, probing the area that was covered in a light film of blood. He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Is the wound bad?" Chris's eyelids fluttered once. He had almost forgotten Simon's presence as the vampire stood on the opposite side of the bed.

Shaking his head and straightening his back, he responded, "We're lucky, it could have been worse. She'll have a headache when she wakes up, but that's to be expected."

He crossed to the bathroom that was connected to his room, snatching a towel and running it under water. Pulling out a stele from his weapons belt, he drew his best iratze (or more so, one of Clary's own) on both of her upper arms, watching as not only her skull slightly mended, but the cut across her shoulder, which he could see heal itself through the tear in her shirt, closed itself as well, leaving only the drying blood on her as evidence to her injuries.

After he was sure she was all fixed up, he began to dag at the back of her head, trying to get as much of the grime there as possible. Simon watched him as he parted Clary's hair, trying to get through the curly red hair that he's missed so much, finally being near her like he wished, hoped, dreamed of for months. The only problem was the vampire that stared at him as he tried to take in Clary's presence in the room.

It kind of ruined the moment. Just a little bit.

Simon walked away, and for split second Chris hoped he'd leave the room, finally leaving him and Clary alone, but instead he walked toward the wardrobe, pulled out a long sleeved, jean button up shirt, returning with it to the bed. His eyes never left Clary.

"I'm not going to rip her intestines out the second you're not looking, you know." He said as his hand moved to Clary's collarbone.

The vampire didn't hesitate to answer, and that's what surprised Chris the most, "I know."

Simon moved to the end of the bed and commenced to remove Clary's ankle boots, while Chris fingered the jean shirt. Giving Simon an acknowledging look, while the Daylighter moved the shoes to the wall, he propped Clary into sitting position, placing a hand across her chest so that she wouldn't fall over, and cut two slits down the back of her shirt, one running vertically on both halves of her shirt, making sure that the small sleeves were no longer holding onto her arms. The vampire raised an eyebrow at him, "What do you think you're doing?" his voice bordered between defensive and embarrassed.

Chris tugged the jean shirt towards him, "Changing her out of her sweaty and bloody T-shirt."

"I don't think we should change her though…" If the vampire still had blood pumping in his veins, Chris swore he would be blushing.

"I'm her brother, and you're her lifetime best friend, it's not that scandalous," Chris countered as he shifted Clary so that her head leaned against his shoulder, "But if she asks, tell her it was Maia."

Careful to keep the gray T-shirt from slipping off of her body, Chris positioned one sleeve of the shirt and pulled one of her arms into the sleeve. The motion made the back of Clary's cut shirt move aside, and Chris's eyes lingered on the scar that was straight along her vertebrate, looking thick and fairly new. It probably wasn't even a week old.

"Axe incident," Simon answered his silent question, and when Chris jerked to look at him, the word 'axe' shooting his protectiveness levels all the way up, Simon waved his hand as if to wave the topic away, "I should just let Clary tell you instead of telling you myself."

"At least tell me how hurt she was," Chris demanded as he pulled on Clary's other arm to place the shirt on her.

Simon sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on the front of the bloody T-shirt so that it slid off of her. Chris saw the Daylighter's gaze avert from Clary's chest as the shirt slid off, and Chris barely registered his movements as he quickly buttoned the first four buttons on the shirt, not bothering to do the rest because the shirt was too long and already did a good job of covering her.

It occurred to him that even if they were her brother and best friend, Clary would be very upset, (and very embarrassed). But the fact that she was like a little doll to him amused him slightly, and he felt a guilty (okay maybe not SO guilty) pleasure in being able to do so.

When he was finished, he smoothed her hair away from her face and rested her back on the bed, her breaths coming a lot more evenly now that the iratzes had done their job. Her eyes slightly fluttered as he rubbed a knuckle across her forehead, moving a stray strand, briefly showing the bright round green eyes beneath her lids, but she quickly succumbed to sleep again, except for her chest rising and falling, and the occasional twitch of her fingers, she ceased to stir.

They both let their empty gazes rest on the bed for a moment, before Simon asked, his tone a whisper, although why he was acting so careful to be quiet now, he didn't know.

"So, you can change your eye color now too? Or have you always been able to do that?" The Daylighter inquired.

Chris hadn't realized that the question had been burning in Simon's mind until he heard how quickly the guy asked it.

Chris groaned, "Why do you people keep suggesting that? Are you all color blind?" He stood off of the bed, ignoring the fact that he just called someone with perfect vision if they were color blind, walking towards the mirror that hung on a nail against the wall.

Another snarky comment was about to escape from Chris's lips, something to do with the fact that perhaps they'd all gone insane while he was in hell and now he was the only normal one, but his mouth didn't even open before he spotted his reflection, and his eyebrows went up.

Surprisingly, the first thing his mind came up with was, Hey, wait a second that's not black!

Black wasn't a vibrant color that reminded you of fresh green grass.

Black wasn't a color so lively that it sucked you into its intensity.

Black didn't remind him of Clary, who though she had black eyes, he didn't associate her with that color.

Black wasn't Clary.

Black was Chris.

Black isn't emerald green.

Then why were Chris's eyes emerald green?

He blinked, closing his eyes and opening them to make sure that what he was seeing was not an illusion, was not some sort of mind trick. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, but the pain did nothing to bring back the color black in his irises.

Because they were really, truly, green.

"How did this happen?" he said, his own ears even detecting the slight awe in his tone, "What caused this?"

"If you don't know, then I'm stumped too." Simon answered.

He hadn't believed them, he hadn't even considered the possibility that they could have been right, but that had been because the idea had been completely absurd. He was the demon, Clary was the angel, that's why he had black in his eyes and she didn't.

But then Clary had gotten black eyes, and he had been ecstatic about it, happy with the idea that there was someone like him in the world. But now, he was like her. He was no longer different.

At least, if you look at it only from this point.

His emerald eyes widened before him, as if to show off their color, to finally persuade them of their authenticity. The color seemed to have changed his face completely. He couldn't recognize himself, his sharp features such as his jaw, his fine cheekbones, seemed to have softened a bit, now that his eyes weren't as intense as before, but at the same time, they were in their own way. They were mesmerizing, just like Clary's.

"How long have they been like this?" he threw the question out into the air, not expecting it to be answered, but again the vampire piped up.

"They weren't like that when we were fighting out there," Simon said, "I think I would have noticed then."

Chris nodded absently, finally tearing himself away from the mirror, though he yearned to focus back on his reflection, "Then sometimes afterwards. But why…?"

"Like I said," Simon shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine." The vampire was silent for a moment, in which Chris walked back to sit on the window ledge, his mind looking for explanation for this phenomenon, but none came. "Now that I think about it, actually, I think I did see something out there."

The now green eyed boy looked to the vampire, his gaze inquiring.

"When you stopped briefly to speak to me, during the fight, I saw something in your eyes. They were still black, but there was something in them….."

"What?" Chris asked tersely, "What did you see?"

The vampire rubbed unconsciously at his arms, and Chris noticed for the first time that there were slight burns on the exposed skin, burns that would take a while to heal even with his extreme healing abilities. Burns from holy water, he assumed. "I saw something that reminded of Clary."

Chris frowned, "That's it?"

"What did you expect, a step by step procedure? We only spoke for twenty seconds, and what I mean by that you reminded me of Clary, I meant that you had this look in your eye, one that I normally see in only her." He explained.

"What sort of look?" Chris demanded.

"That look where you'll do anything to get what you want, that stubborn streak that means that no matter what the cost, you'll get what you want, and not only that, but you'll come out of it alive too." Simon finished.

His eyes trailing to Clary's bright hair against the plain covers, Chris let the Daylighter's words sink into his mind, despite that they still hadn't helped much at all.

Just like Clary, huh?

Several new ideas popped into his mind, several things that sparked in his mind. Memories of him noticing how much more humane he had become around Clary, and Clary only. How as she turned into him, they had gotten along better by the day. How she had retained his features for the twelve days, though those had faded, until the very last.

The rune she made up in Chicago only works on the person who draws it on themselves, but is it possible it works vice versa?

The idea was possible, but he didn't the aftermaths of the rune, what had gone through her head as Clary's rune reached its final turn. He would need to know that.

"So how exactly did you get out of hell?" Simon pulled him out of his thoughts again, and Chris found himself having to rethink what the vampire just said to understand what he just asked, having been so deep in his thoughts. No wonder Clary had this guy as her best friend, with how frequently Clary escaped into her own mind, she needed someone to be her anchor, someone to keep her from floating too far away from reality.

Sitting up, resting his back against the cool glass window, staring at the ceiling, Chris spoke, "My mom got mad at me for not following in the family's footsteps, so she kicked me out. But you know, I think I'll just say the precise details later, because I'm assuming everyone wants to know and I really don't feel like repeating myself a million times, so I'll just tell you all in a group when we're all, ready."

He glanced as the guy raised his eyebrows at the mention of Chris's 'mom,' but he didn't look too concerned, in fact, he looked like he wasn't upset about not having his question answered, but like he was now propelled to do something else. Chris kept his gaze on the ceiling.

"That's fine, I really wanted to ask you something else anyway," Simon started, and now it was Chris's turn to raise his eyebrows, "Something that I'm sure you won't want to repeat or discuss this to anyone else."

This made Chris finally turn to the Daylighter, his suspicions rising, his shoulders taut as if ready for a fight, but the vampire didn't look like he wanted a fight as he was now leaning against the wall next to the door, his hands tucked into his jean pockets, and Chris could tell that they were completely relaxed.

"And that would be?" Chris prompted, his voice slightly terse.

Simon took a deep breath, a habit he still had from being a mundane, as if steeling him for something that would be difficult to get out, "One of the first things Clary explained to us when we were all here was how we had to get you out of hell, her words not mine, she fought for you, arguing for you, explaining how she was going to do it whether we wanted to or not."

Chris was no longer lounging against the window. His back was ramrod straight.

"Her reaction to all the times we tried to convince her that we shouldn't, because I have to admit, we didn't think bringing you back was a good idea, no offense."

"None taken." Chris said honestly, but with his eyes boring into Simon's he said, "Why are you telling me this?"

"I'm getting there." Simon returned the glare, "Her reaction was defensive, protective, and desperate. She needed to get you out, she absolutely had to. Like she couldn't live with herself if she didn't even at least try."

"When did she say this?"

"About a few days ago," Simon answered, "But I don't think this obsession started then. From the day you were first sent to hell, she went absolutely crazy, well I wouldn't call it crazy exactly, but I can't find any other word to describe it."

"To describe what?" His grip on the windowsill was harsh, but he didn't register ever latching on it.

Simon stood up now, his back no longer leaning against the wall, "To describe her reactions. Gosh, you should have seen her. Minutes after you were sent to hell, Clary escaped single handedly from Alicante."

His grip on the windowsill was now so tight he could feel the wood splintering. His voice was low, "What?"

"She killed the Counsel, Chris," Chris flinched at the use of his name, the one Clary only ever used on him before, "She killed the Counsel and fought against a room full of Shadowhunters, and she escaped them all, running away, and none of us were able to find her for months."

Chris blinked, "Wait, you mean, she wasn't living with you guys this whole time? She didn't go back to the Institute?" He had always assumed that Clary had gone back to live her old life, continued to live without him.

She had rebelled against him.

Something swelled in his chest, and it felt like pride. Or awe.

"No one but herself and maybe those she was in contact with knew where she was. For three whole months, she disappeared again, doing who knows what. But now that I think about it, I have a pretty good guess as to what she'd been doing now."

Looking for him. She'd been looking for ways to get him back. He stared at the sleeping body on the bed and looked at the face of the girl who had become a murdered, for him.

She killed the Counsel for me, he thought.

For some reason, he found it more fitting for her to have done it than if he had.

Simon explained how they had only found Clary coincidentally days ago, when they happened to meet up at the same time at a vampire mansion, where Clary had been looking for a book that could get him out of hell. How that trip had cost her an axe in the back.

Chris's mind processed all of this. His heart rate had gotten excited, beating against his chest as if it had a new reason to live. She hadn't forgotten him. She still cared for him.

The image of her Jace swam in his mind, but he dismissed it.

"Why are you telling me this?" Chris slightly shook his head, realization dawning on him, "you said you wanted to ask me something, but so far you've only been explaining things to me."

Simon looked lost now, as if he didn't know where to continue from here. Taking another unnecessary breath, he confessed, "I know you kissed Clary."

Before Chris could get up and strangle the vampire, demanding him to explain how he knew of what he and Clary did or didn't do while they'd been living with each other for two weeks, Simon added, "Before, I mean, Clary told me you kissed her in Alicante when you showed her the Fairchild manor."

Chris let himself deflate, only a little bit though. For some reason, even though he felt like he shouldn't care, he cared very much whether or not the Daylighter knew about their more recent interactions. He felt like he was talking to a father in order to ask permission to take his daughter on a date, and not his sister's best friend.

Well, in many ways, Simon is protective of Clary in that way…

How weird it was that it should be Chris's job to watch out for Clary in in that way, not anyone else's.

"Spit it out and get to the point already, vampire." Chris snapped.

Simon squared his jaw, "Bottom line, what is up with you two? What's your relationship to each other exactly?"

Chris was now standing, just as Simon was.

"She's my sister," he answered concisely.

Simon spoke in 'oh come on,' voice, "No, Rebecca is my sister. We argue and fight, we disagree and get mad at each other, but we know we'd do anything for each other. We're siblings, it's what we do. To me, sure, I can imagine you and Clary doing the exact same stuff, but deep down, there's more to it, isn't there? There's something else there. I know there is, because I know Clary, and she can be very defensive to the point where she's more like a deranged dog about things she wants, but this, what is this?"

Simon was right, Chris didn't want to discuss this, he didn't want to discuss this with anyone, especially not with Clary being only a few feet away from him. How could he explain something when not even he knew exactly what going on? He didn't even know whether or not Clary still wanted to be with him. Wanting him back was one thing, but wanting him….

"I don't have to discuss this with you, Downworlder." Chris argued.

Simon crossed his arms, "Ugh, yeah you kind of do. Because if you don't, Clary will just tell me anyway. Also, I've been defending Clary's reasons for doing what she'd been doing for a long time, I've been supporting her decisions when everyone else mocked her, thought she was insane. Did you know that people were convinced you did something to her? That you put her under your control like you did with Jace? Because they thought that, and I told them they were crazy, that Clary has her reasons for doing what she does." The vampire's eyes hardened, "And now I want to make sure that I was right to make those assumptions."

"You shouldn't have assumed then," Chris turned away from him, checking Clary's wounds, though why, he wasn't sure. She was only a good night rests away from being perfectly healthy.

"I want to make sure she doesn't get hurt," Simon pressed, "That she did have a reason for turning the whole of the Clave on her."

Chris straightened himself up, "You think she made a mistake in doing that, don't you?"

Chris knew that that wasn't the case, but he didn't know what else to say. The vampire had unknowingly dragged him into a corner, and Chris didn't like that.

Still standing by the wall, Simon continued, "You realize what you've done, right?" he questioned, "You may or may not have ruined her whole life. You took her away from her home, away from her family—"

"Be quiet." Chris snarled.

But Simon kept speaking, "By doing that, you made the Clave think that she was associated with you, and that's where the suspicions against her started—"

"Shut up—"

"—you let her get captured, and almost got her sent to hell, and overall, she is now a fugitive to her own people. She will never be able to show her face in the Shadow World ever again!"

"Stop talking!" his fists curled against his side, his temple throbbing, a drop of guilt mixing in with his anger.

"Don't you see? You barred her whole life for her, and she had no choice but to chase after you because there was nothing more for her to do!"

No choice…the words rang in his mind, and he wanted to swing his fist up into the vampire's face, his chest, his throat, anywhere, but he wouldn't do it. Not in front of Clary.

He kept his curled fists at his side, clenching them so hard they would have bended steel. He'd changed Clary's life, of course he'd known that, he'd known that things would be different for her, that they'd have each other. In the beginning, Chris thought that Clary would despise him, would hate the sight of him for weeks, but she hadn't. She'd immediately fallen into the new environment as easily as if she had been the one to suggest it. He'd always assumed that it was because she got used to the change in circumstance. It had never occurred to him whether or not she'd resent him for all the missed opportunities he'd caused her. Did she hate him for that?

"I love her," he unexpectedly spoke. The words felt strange, out in the air, instead of constantly being in his mind, and he immediately wished that he could pull them back, bury them deep within his soul until he could unearth it for another time, or more likely, so that he could say them to another person.

It was strange that the first time he would voice it aloud, stranger still that the person he was saying it to was Simon.

The vampire sure knew how to poke his presence into everything without meaning to, now didn't he?

He loved her, but as Simon said not in the way a brother usually loved his sister. And his words had said all of that.

He looked at Simon, trying to gauge how disgusted the vampire would be by this form of love, how he'd recoil from his words, say that he's insane and delusional and mentally ill.

But Simon didn't do that at all. His face betrayed none of that emotion, and instead, his nodded an understanding nod, his face instead showing a mixture of comprehension and understanding.

"You're not the only one that loves her, you know." His tone suggested that he meant both types of love, the kind where you do anything for someone, care for them as if you'd care for yourself, and then the love that Chris felt for Clary. "I've known Clary for years, a lot longer than you have, and I love her too. I'd give my life for her. I'll do anything I can to help her."

Chris nodded.

"Clary and I know each other very well. It doesn't matter what it is, no matter what happens to each other, we've got each other's back, and we'll do anything because of it," he gestures to himself, "I mean, look what I got myself into."

"You're nosy, then." Chris said.

Surprisingly, Simon laughed, "You could say that, but that was because back then, I still thought that Clary was the Clary I grew up with: A small girl who needed to be snapped out of her head every five minutes before she walked across the street while the light was red. I know that she's a lot stronger now, but that never changed anything. I'll still protect her."

"She's a lot stronger now than you are, you know," Chris pointed out.

"I don't just mean protect her physically. When I say protect, I mean it." The vampire's tone lowered, and he looked at Chris was a menacing look that he didn't know belonged to the guy, "So if I hear that Clary is sad, if she tells me that she's unhappy, if I so much as see one tear on her face and it's all because of you, may your Angel Raziel protect you, because I will stop at nothing to tear you apart."

Anger seethed inside of Chris, but before he could retaliate, the vampire whisked himself out of the room, leaving him along with his sleeping sister.

He felt like chasing after Simon, to ask him who he thought he was, throwing around threats like that, to heave his sudden anger onto him and deny his accusation. That he would never hurt Clary.

His anger was stemmed, or more like obliterated by a sudden realization. Walking towards the mirror on the wall, he stared into his eyes. His green eyes.

His mind went over the vampire's words again.

If I so much as see one tear on her face and it's all because of you, may your Angel Raziel protect you, because I will stop at nothing to tear you apart

Chris almost gasped as he realized that he had just received permission by a vampire to date his own sister.

Emery POV

Finding the house had been a huge pain in the neck.

Tracking it down had been like solving a huge calculus problem: It was doable, but it took a long time and a lot work and a lot of complicated tricks to do.

Of course, the spells, glamours and magickal boundaries put against the house would be so that anyone wouldn't be able to break through. Any normal warlock would have gone insane against the enormous fire wall that was the protection against the house. It wasn't normal, and whoever had devised them had obviously taken a great care to create them, to twist them and turn them into the huge maze that they were. And like he mentioned, any normal warlock would have driven themselves insane trying to decode it.

Good thing he wasn't any normal warlock.

He was an old and extremely powerful one. He knew enough magick to turn the whole world into its opposite self. The oceans would be dry, the skies would be below them, heaven would be hell and hell would be heaven, etc.

He wasn't boasting either. It was just true. As an immortal, you tend to soak in every bit of information that comes to you. You get to see whole civilizations rise and fall, got to see the human race, as well as other races, improve, yet not learning from their mistakes. That was perhaps one thing that made Emery despise being near civilization too much. They just didn't learn from their mistakes sometimes. Well, he also stayed away because if you stayed near people too long, you get attached to them.

So attached, that you forget that you were immortal, and that someday they would die, but you would keep living.

So Emery learned to stay away.

But being alone for eternity isn't….easy to do.

So when Clarissa Adele approached him in Alcatraz, he didn't realize how much he was itching for socialization until their mind connection disappeared in the vampire mansion. It was a fun rise in the never ending roller coaster that was his eternity.

Lots of people asked him if he remembered the very first years of his life, when he looked nineteen because he actually was nineteen. He always told them he couldn't, that naturally as time progressed your memory got a little more than fuzzy. But that was a complete lie. He had perfect memory, something that people would pay money for, but to him it's been nothing but a nightmare sometimes. Sometimes you want to forget. He had no choice but to pretend it never happened.

He found that he rather wanted to stay with society, if only for a few years at a time. So he went in search of Clary, using her presence to find her. Only very few warlocks could do this, mostly because it used up a lot of magick and it took careful practice to not accidently deplete their reserves. He followed the trail of her life source, finding it twisted amongst the many barricades placed around the house.

When he had finally broke down the walls and finally managed to Portal into the living room, everyone was outside, doing some weird Shadowhunter brawl.

Emery didn't know what they were fighting about, and he had long learned to not interfere with Shadowhunter business, though he was very tempted to.

He wanted to participate in something exciting in history.

Turns out he showed up at just in time. One of the Shadowhunters, Jace he recalled the tall black haired girl calling him, had lost an arm in the battle, and Emery was now playing surgeon.

The stump of what remained of his arm ended only an inch or so below the shoulder, and lots of blood oozed from the end. Emery had knocked the boy unconscious, putting him in a state of coma so that he wouldn't be in pain, but he would be able to pull him out of sleep when he needed to.

"You too can leave if you want," he told the two siblings that sat on either side of the blonde haired boy, "This can be very messy."

Emery was used to seeing blood, it wasn't new to him. He'd been alive during many bloodthirsty wars, after all.

But the two of them shook their heads, Isabelle, he learned her name, said, "We're staying here."

He shrugged, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

He clicked his tongue, causing the wadded up jacket that protected the stump to unravel and reveal the horror of the arm. The two Shadowhunters on either side of the boy gagged at the sight, both paling at the gruesome wounds, but remained where they were.

Whoever had done this had done a messy job. They'd carelessly cut through the arm, instead of cutting it all off in one clean swipe, the red bloody muscle was torn, jagged, the bone protruding from the stump looking like it had been snapped, with splinters of it jutting into the soft tissue.

Emery had revived the dead before, but helping someone that was still alive, now that was different. That was a challenge. And recently, he found that he's been challenged quite a lot around these people.

Sitting cross legged, his heart beat calmer than a sleeping person, he unwrapped the disembodied arm, catching from the corner of his eye as Alec swayed a bit on the spot, taking deep breaths to hold down the wave of nausea that no doubt hit him.

Looking from the macabre arm to the stump, his mind whirled from one suggestion to the other, his fingers twitching around the edge of the baseball cap, the other twitching as he considered one spell or another.

Yep, this would be a challenge, one that he didn't know whether or not he'd be able to solve. One that he couldn't predict the outcome for.

A strange smile molded on his face.

Something he couldn't predict, huh?

As he cocked his head, making the blood from the arm stop bleeding out, he felt a flutter giddiness erupt in him.

This would be a challenge, and he didn't get enough challenges nowadays.

Yep, he was definitely sticking around these people for a while.

Clary POV

She was having some weird dream.

Or at least, she thought it was a dream.

Are you supposed to be aware of the fact that you're dreaming when in a dream? Because she was pretty sure that was the case.

Everything looked all fuzzy, and she could tell that she was no supposed to be there. She just wasn't. Another thing was that when she looked down at herself, she wasn't there. Her body was completely transparent, or did she even have a body? Did her mind emancipate itself from her body?

Looking around her, she was aware of two things. One, she was in a jail cell, one with four walls, a door on the wall in front of her which was labeled with rune upon rune upon rune. Panic flared up in her. Did the Clave capture her? Was she imprisoned? But that was impossible. She wasn't chained up. She had no arms or legs to chain up.

The second thing she realized was the she wasn't alone.

"Hey little miss red, would you mind turning this way?"

She turned, or at least she thought she turned. It was so weird not having a body.

But suddenly she was staring at intense cat eyes that looked like they were going to pop from exhaustion.

She would have gaped if she had a mouth, "Magnus?! What, what happened to you?"

The warlock looked terribly. He sat on the floor, both arms raised in a mock Y, his hands being tied to cuffs on the walls. The cuffs encircling his wrists were covered in runes as well. His face was streaked in cuts and bruises, and his torn clothes revealed even more bruises of the like. He had a black eye, and his left ankle looked broken. There was no hair dye in his hair, and for the first time in a long time, his hair was not spiky. Not in the slightest. It lay flat on his face, still soft, but without any glitter.

If it hadn't been for hearing him talk, she could swear she was looking at a whole new person.

Magnus coughed, and Clary's vision blurred a bit. She tried blinking, but then realized that it wasn't her. She didn't have eyes to blink anyway.

Magnus looked back up to her, "Don't talk, just let me explain everything first. One, I'm communicating to you through your mind. This is a very difficult process to do, and I think the only reason I got through to you so easily is because you're sleeping, right?"

"Um..." she thought back. She couldn't remember having fallen asleep. She remembered blacking out.

And a flash of white…

She focused back on Magnus, "Umm, yeah, I think so. Magnus, did you get caught?" she questioned.

Magnus grimaced, and his image blurred once again before refocusing. "Sorry, maintaining this link is rather difficult to do. Listen Clary, I don't have much energy for this. I was going to contact Alec, but he's still awake, judging by how hard it was to penetrate his mind. Anyway, I just want to inform that yes, I was unfortunately captured by the Clave. I'm now being arrested here for treason." He gulped, "And unfortunately, at this moment, Robert, Maryse, Luke, and Jocelyn are as well."

"What! Why?"

Magnus frowned in his effort, "They think that since I worked for you guys, then obviously they have as well. They think that they can take no chances anymore."

"That's ridiculous! Why don't they just use the mortal sword on them, that proves that they don't know anything!"

The warlock shivered, "The thing is Clary, the sword would make them reveal everything, including the few things we did know that we didn't tell the Clave."

"Such as?" she asked.

"Such as that we had a map that indicated where you were at certain points of the day," he explained. She knew what he was talking about. The gang had explained it to her a while ago.

"So? It's not like they communicated with me or anything—" she would have paled. She had sent them that drawing, that picture. Did that count as communication?

She didn't think she would care for her mother's situation anymore, after they had parted ways unknowingly months ago, but now…

"Magnus, what do I do? What about Chris?" she pleaded.

Magnus looked like he was struggling to speak, and the image was starting to get grainy, his cat eyes no longer clear to see, "I don't know what to tell you. It's your choice of what to do now. As for Chris, like I told you, he is no longer in hell."

"Then where is he?" she demanded, before the image went black.

"I can't tell you for certain—" then Magnus disappeared, the cell disappearing. Blackness and what should have been sleep surrounded Clary.

A flash of white blonde

Lacie: It's somewhat shorter this week

Clary: And I am still unconscious. I don't like being unconscious. I'm unconscious way too much

Chris: Why are my eyes green! No one has explained that yet!

Clary: Why is my great great great great times something uncle in my house!

Lacie: If you guys ask too many questions then I'm going to pull this nerf gun on you guys and shoot you all

Chris: Oh, no *sarcasm* not the nerf gun, Clary we'd better run for it before we're attacked by foam darts!

Lacie: *shoots at Chris* *tranquilizer dart hits him in the thigh*

Chris: *eyes widen* Hey what the hell is *eyes roll back in his head **falls off chair*

Clary: *nudges his unconscious body* well at least it's not me

Lacie: Oh wait, this isn't my nerf gun…*tosses it aside* oh well, he'll wake up in a few minutes

Clary: *eats from a bag of Doritos* It also makes up for the fact that he changed me like I'm some sort of doll. That by the way, adds to the list of things you've done to me

Lacie: *shrugs* I'm running out of ideas for this story. I'm pulling at anything I can get

Clary: Then end it

Lacie: But people will be sad

Clary: But City of Heavenly Fire is coming so they should be happy!

Lacie: I NEED THAT BOOK OMG IM GONNA DIE

Clary: no, the six characters that Cassandra Clare promised to die are going to die

Lacie: *cries* don't say that! T-T

Clary: *pulls out tranquilizer dart from Chris's leg* Hey, are these for people?

Lacie: Umm…maybe?

Clary: It says to only use on creatures from four hundred pounds to six hundred….

Lacie: Oops…those…those were my zoo darts O.o

Clary: You shot Chris with a dart meant for adult lions…..

Lacie: he should…. He should be fine….right?

Clary: I, I don't know O-O

Lacie: Oh. Maybe we should call in a Silent Brother or someone….

Clary: I'm on it

*while Clary contacts Brother Zachariah*

Lacie: Hey guys! Thanks again for reading, man, this is chapter 36, I never thought I'd make it this far. Anyway. Guys! My birthday is coming up next week! I don't know if I'll update before or after then, but I may or may not be older by then :O So you know, it'd be nice if for my day of birth celebration, you guys would leave a review, that would be nice

Clary: Chris would say something like: you cheat! Taking advantage of the good of people's hearts by telling them it's your birthday, for shame.

Lacie: Shut up Chris! Or, Clary I guess.

*brother Zachariah shows up*

Zachariah: you do realize that you used a tranquilizer for lions, right?

Lacie & Clary: WE KNOW

Review! See you guys next time!