Clary: *sits in a hospital chair next to Chris's patient bed, clutching Chris's limp hand, a heart monitor nearby beeps every time his heart beats* *several tubes are running through his arms, giving him is nutrients*
Chris: *still knocked out by the dart that was actually meant for full grow elephants**heart monitor beeps*
Clary: Come on Chris, *squeezes hand* It's been days, I need you D:
Chris: *heart beeps*
Clary: I need you, I need you to sign this form letting me go to a trip to Europe, and you're the only adult figure of mine who's older than eighteen, I need you!
Chris: *still no reaction*
Clary: *huffs and drops his hand* Fine! Stay asleep in your tranquilizer dart induced coma! Meanwhile, I'll just let my one and only opportunity be crushed
Lacie: *just comes in through the door, holding a brown takeout bag, having heard everything* you're a Shadowhunter. A Shadowhunter with the ability to create her own Portal. Do you really need consent from an adult?
Clary: O-O Son of Raziel *smacks forehead* I can be dense sometimes
Lacie: Just a little bit, yes.
Clary: What's in the bag? *points to brown takeout bag*
Lacie: Chinese takeout. You want some—
Clary: YES
Lacie: *hands over plastic container* *they eat to the sound of Chris's heart monitor beeping* You think he'll wake up soon?
Clary: The Silent Brother said soon *chews through mouthful of noodles*
Lacie: You…you think he'll, you know, remember how this happened?
Clary: They said some memory loss, not major, just a few minutes, wouldn't be uncommon, but that he'd recollect everything soon enough *eats more noodles* I looked through your last chapter again, you do realize that you wrote 'magick' instead of 'magic' right?
Lacie: *smacks forehead* I could have SWORN that in TMI that's how Cassandra Clare spelt the word, so I tried to keep up with her lingo you know? But then I checked the books, and I was wrong. OH well!
Chris: *finger twitches*
Clary: You think that if I smacked him over the head with a book, he'd wake up?
Lacie: Depends which book
Clary: Harry Potter Order of the Phoenix *readies book over Chris's head*
Lacie: *jumps out of her seat to stop Clary* NO! Do you want to send him into an even DEEPER coma!
Chris: *hands clench, face frowns*
Clary: *sits back down* fine. *eats more noodles* what about the show? How are we going to do the intro with unconscious Chris?
Lacie: the shows been running, people are watching us right now
Clary: *eyes bulge* You mean they can see us OUTSIDE of the station?
Lacie: yeah, so do the thing!
Clary: Lacie-Abyss does not own TMI! But she does own coma-induced Chris. And unconscious Clary. ALWAYS unconscious Clary, if I may point out
Lacie: Not ALWAYS
Enjoy!
Clary POV
When she woke up, for a brief, panicked moment, she was convinced she was in jail, captured by the Clave and locked in a cell, and that when she opened her eyes, she'd be able to see vertical bars and a certain warlock strapped next to her on the wall.
Throb
She winced as the back of her head gave a sharp pain, and she was forced to screw her face up in pain. When she was opened her eyes again, she was staring at a white ceiling.
She started to get up, but then stopped when her head throbbed again.
In the effort to preserve itself, her mind reeled back to the last few things it could remember. Images flashed by, the reality of what had happened rolling over her thoughts.
They'd been attacked in New York, she'd been attacked in New York. If it weren't for the fact that her head already hurt, she would have slapped herself. How could she have been so stupid? She just stepped out into the world like nothing, not even prepared, not to mention that she had given up so easily, as if nothing mattered anymore.
How could I have been so naïve? Stupid, stupid! What would Chris have said if he'd seen her?
That's when she was reminded of how they'd ended up in New York in the first place, how Magnus had tried to summon Chris, only to end in failure, but before Clary could fall into the hopelessness she had when she originally heard that, she remembered something else.
I'm now being arrested here for treason. And unfortunately, at this moment, Robert, Maryse, Luke, and Jocelyn are as well.
Magnus had told her this in her dream/vision. But did that mean that they were already arrested, or were going to be?
She could warn them, contact them, it wouldn't be difficult to contact Maryse and warn her, and Maryse could certainly warn Jocelyn and Luke as well. Clary had to warn them, help them before they got caught, because this was all her fault. All of this all came down to her, all because of her stupid decisions and inability to make sure that no one got caught up in her web.
I'm like a spider, catching everyone in my web.
The image that came after that thought made her shudder.
And to think, all this and they hadn't even succeeded in getting Chris back.
Throb.
Suddenly, she felt like running. The same impulse that took over while she was chained up by the Clave took over. The same urge that would engulf her mind the minutes before her rune would turn.
It hit her, as sudden as the throbs that went up in the back of her head where she had hit herself on the ground, and all she knew was that she had to go, leave, run, move, get out, the animalistic instinct practically pounding through her veins, telling her to get up.
Her wrist, where she had drawn the rune for Sebastian's characteristics, throbbed in time with her head, and she sat bolt upright, suddenly very curious to know as to where she was, the hand where her rune was creeping towards a ghost wound on her shoulder that she swore was supposed to be there, but wasn't. A dull, fading sting on her upper arms told her she'd received two iratzes.
(Lacie: Guys I think I really messed something up that I'd like to correct. One: The arm where Clary had first drawn the rune IS the left one. In Chapter 22 I think I say it's not, if you recall that in that chapter Clary had a poisoned arm, and I told you guys that it was the poisoned one that was the left one, well I was wrong. I got mixed up. Runed arm equals left arm. Just wanted to make things clear. Continue reading :))
Clary had a small Goldilocks moment when she glanced around at the room around her. At first thought, she confirmed that she was not imprisoned by the Clave, she would have noticed her confinement by then, and judging by her healed wounds, she should safe, in her house with the gang and probably in her room or on the sofa in the living room, considering that she couldn't remember if she'd locked the door to her room or not.
But as she took in the space around her, she was momentarily disoriented. This is not my bed, she thought, looking at the covers that she was sitting upon, and then blinked as she glanced at the too big jean shirt that covered her from neck to thighs, this is not my shirt, and when she finally looked at the room surrounding her, she, surprisingly, flinched.
What was she doing in Chris's room?
Clary felt like the first time she woke up in this house, the day after Sebastian had taken her from the burning Institute, before he became Chris. She felt confused, bewildered, lost, until anger took over, anger at the fact that someone, be it Simon, Maia, Jordan, whoever, had come into Chris's room, his room, the room that she hadn't even come into, not since he fell into hell, and she was given the urge to break something.
No one came into this room, especially not her.
However, her rage was simmered down as easily as it had come, like the tide when it washed ashore, only to ease back into the sea. The door to Chris's room was locked, she was sure of that. Only she and Chris were able to open it by placing their palms on the wood. It didn't matter how much anyone else tries, without them, this room should be inaccessible. Then how did that explain her presence in it?
Her head and wrist throbbed, her wrist throbbing slightly more, as she swung her shoeless feet off to the side of the bed, and stood, making her towards the door, her mind caught up in its own storm.
Hopefully no one was hurt during the fight other than herself. She recalled everyone running out of the door, coming to fight against the Shadowhunters from the Clave that she had been so stupid to just walk into. She struggled to remember something after that, after she had been sliced across the shoulder, after something had knocked her in the middle of her chest, a battle cry-
A flash of white
She furrowed her brow, trying to remember, trying to see the figure that had jumped over her—
The little hairs on the back of her beck stood up, and before Clary could discern why, a pair of arms encircled her from behind, pressing her into something warm, hot breath against her ear, a voice that triggered something in her mind whispered, "Good morning Claris—"
Before realizing her limbs were in action, Clary's elbows slammed backwards, the voice at her ear gave a sharp exhale of air, and before she knew it, without looking back, she had the intruder locked in her grip, and judo flipped him.
Her inner Sebastian turned on without her realizing it.
Her heart pounding in her throat from the suddenness of it all, she glared wide eyed at the judo-flipped figure, who was propping themselves up with both arms behind him.
"You really shouldn't just sneak up on me like that!" she exclaimed, "I'm not particularly safe to deal with at that time." She thought about her sentence, "Or any time, really."
Clary rubbed at her wrist, her sudden movement combined with her headache and the fact that she woke up not five minutes ago giving her a sense of chills and muddled her thoughts.
The figure huffed, "You know, you didn't do that the first time I did that."
Her wrist ached again, her headache forgotten, and she looked up at him, "Last time? What the hell do you mean by—"the words died off of her tongue. If she looked back at that moment in later time she wouldn't have been able to remember what she had been planning on saying after that.
She couldn't think, she didn't even know if she was breathing. Her chest ached, and she drew in a sharp intake of breath, but she couldn't release it, the breath stayed in her lungs, threatening to explode.
Clary stared at the figure, who her eyes were taking in with more and more clarity. He shook his white blonde hair out of his eyes, not bothering to get up and brush it off with his hands. Droplets fell from the strands, and the smell of soap in the air told her he'd just come out of the shower, but she didn't dare remove her gaze from him, didn't dare stop looking.
She was convinced that this was like her dreams, where if she made one move, one sound, one breath, it would all disappear, and she'd reaching out to an illusion.
Was this another illusion?
He was sitting cross legged now, his hands behind him, digging into the carpet, a patient expression on his face. She still hadn't moved. Nor breathed. Her lungs screamed in pain, but she just. Did. Not. Dare. Move.
"You're acting strange," he spoke, and this time he looked up at her, and something in Clary's gut fluttered as she saw green eyes. Green? What sort of dream was this? "Can't an older brother hug his sister?"
Her eyes felt like they were imprinting his image in her mind, as she took in all the little things her memory seemed to have forgotten. His high cheekbones, strong, slender arms, muscular chest, and she made sure to store all the little details in her memory. Made sure to never forget. Her lungs sang as she released her breath, taking in a new one. Her voice spoke of its own accord, "You don't give hugs."
His lips curled up into a smile, and she could have screamed in delight as he stayed there, as the dream continued. Usually, after she tried to make contact, tried to communicate, the dream ended. "Yeah, but you're the exception."
That did it. Clary felt like she was Atlas, holding up the sky as it pressed down on her, holding back reality as if she were afraid it wouldn't be real. She had been terrified. So terrified that this wouldn't be real, that she could feel her fingers shaking. His eyes, those strange, alien eyes that she didn't know, yet felt so familiar as they took her in, glanced at her trembling hands. "Hey, what's wrong?"
His voice made her take in another breath, and she felt that she could no longer do it. She could no longer hold up the sky. She had to take a risk.
Feeling her pulse in her throat, she clenched her runed wrist with her other hand, forcing them to stop trembling. She cleared her throat, feeling like she hadn't spoken in years, decades, lifetimes.
"Remember a long time ago, when you told me that you belonged to me, and I to you," she didn't know how she spoke so evenly when she felt like she was about explode, perhaps it was the dream, "but I denied it?"
He searched her face for a second, his green eyes becoming less and less surprising, less alien, and more normal. Familiar. As if he'd always had them. Or at least was always supposed to. He nodded in confirmation. She didn't know why she was suddenly saying this, but it felt right.
"If I denied it again, I'd be lying."
Her words seemed to trigger something, because suddenly they were both standing very still, both staring at each other as if there was nothing else worth looking at. Nothing else mattered, absolutely nothing, and the true reality of the whole situation came barreling down on her then, the whole sky felt like it was pressuring her, until she couldn't stand being still any longer. She saw something similar flicker in his eyes, and suddenly he lunged for her, crossing the distance between them as if it were nothing. Clary, on the other hand, felt like the several feet that separated them were a huge abyss that threatened to expand further apart if she didn't get to him in time.
She didn't know what happened, because suddenly his arms were around her, and hers clutched and latched onto him as if he would disappear through her fingertips if she didn't grip on tight enough. She ran her fingers through his loose soft hair, and she dissolved into his embrace.
He held her tight, and Clary buried her face into his chest, breathing in his scent, feeling the urge to sob, but she was too caught up to be able to. All she knew was that she wanted to be closer, closer, closer. That maybe, if she pressed herself tight enough against him, he'd never disappear again.
His hands, went down to her waist, his head buried in her neck, his nose rubbing against her jaw, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him, feeling like she still wasn't close enough.
Suddenly, Clary felt herself drop, and she realized that he had carried her over to the bed, and instead of laying her down, he simply collapsed onto it, his back to the covers, with Clary on top of him, her legs on either side of him, her hands on his shoulders. Her face was right above his, and they stared at each other for who knows how long, maybe a second, maybe an eternity. His lips moved, and the sound reached her ears.
"Clary," he whispered, then after a second, he said it again, as if saying it once wasn't enough, "Clary."
It was her name. It wasn't anything more than her name. But the way he said it, the way he seemed to form it so carefully, as if her name was something so sacred, so inviolable, that he had to say it just right. She stared back into those green eyes, her green eyes, until she felt compelled to say something too.
"Chris."
It was him. She didn't truly believe it until she said it. It was like saying something out loud somehow made them more believable.
Somehow, the uttering of his name seemed to spark something in Chris -Chris, Oh Raziel, how the thought that he was back made her feel like she could jump to the moon!—something that she could recall when his inner demon would come out. His eyes sparkled devilishly, but not in a Shadowhunter way that meant he was preparing to kill, and she could feel the same spark in her own eyes.
He reached out and buried his hand in her wild, curly hair, but he didn't move, and an unexpected wave of disappointment hit her when he didn't, but she was quickly distracted as a diabolical grin that made her stomach butterflies –since when did she have butterflies?—go in a frenzy.
"Same rules apply," and when he analyzed the confused expression on her face, he elaborated, putting his other hand on top of her back, just above the scar where the axe had hit her, "If you don't like it, we can stop."
Clary felt the same way she did all those months ago, the way she did every time Chris tried to kiss her or do anything intimate with her. She felt her inner white Clary demon surge beneath her, coming to the surface and taking over. Only back then, she hadn't considered that as herself. She considered it as her inner demon. Her counterpart, something that wasn't her and that had been the reason as to why she held back so often, because she wasn't sure if the sudden urge of want and desire was her, or the thing inside her.
Now she knew that this whole time, it had been her all along, rune or no rune.
There was no white Clary, no inner demon whatsoever. She was her own demon.
Aren't we all?
She felt a grin plaster itself onto her face, and she answered, "I'll let you know if that ever happens."
Then she kissed him with all her being before he could even take a breath. He gasped beneath her, and then he felt his grip on her hair tighten, to the point where it should have hurt to have her roots pulled at like that, but she didn't care. She spread out on top of him until their legs were intertwined, her hands gripping his shoulders so hard she was sure she was sinking her nails into him, but he didn't seem to care either.
When she needed to breathe, he trailed his nose from her temple down to her collar, pecking the skin with kisses. Meanwhile, Clary kept her eyes closed, her hands clenching to keep away the fact that she was slightly trembling with a mixture of relief, excitement and giddiness.
He's back, he's here, he's here…
She chanted it over and over in her head, as if saying it again and again could make it anymore real that it already was. His lips found hers again, and this time there was an even deeper meaning to it. She felt him settle her more neatly against him, instead of her just being sprawled over him, and his hand had found its way under her shirt, which at first she had flinched at, but quickly relaxed into. His fingertips were warm and the way they clutched at her made her head spin more than the kiss.
But suddenly she felt a quick shock of pain as he clutched at a sensitive part of her back, and it wasn't until she jolted backwards, he releasing her, that she remembered her scar from the attack in the vampire mansion. He had pressed her down to him so hard that he had found some sensitive tissue that had yet to heal, or more likely, that Clary hadn't allowed to heal, given that she immediately started training instead of waiting another day like Simon had suggested.
"I'm sorry," Chris apologized quickly, rubbing soft circles into her cheek as she got off of him and laid down on her side to stare at him. He mimicked her, and they were both facing each other. "I should have remembered your wound."
Clary's hand stopped halfway in the air, originally intending to brush back some hair that was on his forehead. It was a lot longer than she remembered. "How do you know about my axe wound?"
Chris opened his mouth, as if to explain, then closed it again and started anew, "Simon told me. He told me a lot of things actually, and asked quite a bit as well, but I'll have to answer those later to everyone, so I might as well not repeat myself." He reached out for one of her wrists, the one with her rune on it, and began to rub circles on it, "But I could tell you now if you want."
"Wait, what do you mean by 'everyone'…" a new bubble burst inside of Clary's head, and she felt she had just awoken from a dream, but this time, Chris was still here. "Everyone is here," she said more to herself than to him, sitting up on the bed as he followed suit, but didn't relinquish her hand. She stared at it, watching his fingers on her skin, "You're here."
He nodded in patience, waiting.
It took two seconds for the waterfall of questions to drown her. She stood up suddenly, feeling the need to move again, to run, to scream, to shout. She settled for pacing in front of the bed, wringing her hands as she took a moment to breathe, to just breathe. Chris waited patiently, like a doctor waiting for his patient's heart rate to slow down.
When she finally faced him, she couldn't help the accusatory finger that pointed at him.
"You're here," She started, "How are you?—how did you?- But Magnus said-" she shook her head, her mind all muddled and confused suddenly. Clary settled for the first logical question that came to her. "Why are your eyes green? What happened?"
She was being very vague with the 'what happened' portion, she could be asking what happened about a lot of things -what happened to him after he fell? How did he get back? What happened after she blacked out?—but he didn't seem thrown off by any of this. He seemed to be expecting it, which was obvious. You can't just disappear into hell for three months and pop back up as if nothing happened and not expect people to be a little curious.
Maybe more than a little, in her case.
But his eyes…
However, Chris simply shook his head, repeating what he said earlier, "It would be much better if I just said all of this to everyone. I really don't feel like repeating this information. Makes me sick just thinking about it, so I'll just wait until everyone's ready before I say anything. As for my eyes," he shrugged, "I don't have an answer for that yet."
Clary stayed still, her hand still in the air, her pointer finger still up, although it was slowly inching down now. She clenched her hand into a fist and dropped it at her side. The movement seemed to trigger something in her.
The others.
"Where is everyone?" she asked suddenly, her eyes flicking towards the door, "Do they know you're here?" A bit of panic slipped into her voice, coming from two sources. One was because Chris was here, in the same house where everyone else was in, how would they react to him being here? The other reason was a little less selfish. Details of the fight, the fight that she had so easily given up in, were quickly resurfacing, and images of how the gang had come outside with her and gotten caught up in the fight just because she was moronic enough to let herself be caught that easily.
"They know I'm here, don't worry about that." Chris answered her, getting up from the bed and standing before her. The way his eyes bore into her seemed to tell her that he knew what she was thinking, understood why she nervous about his presence amongst everyone.
"Are they alright?" she didn't know why she was asking him, she could have just opened the door and gone downstairs to see for herself, but she felt like enjoying another couple of seconds with him, not quite ready for it to not just be the two of them again. Not ready to see how this would play out.
"They're…alive."
She frowned. "Tell me the truth."
"The truth?" he asked, and when she urgently confirmed him, he sighed, "Everyone's fine, well, not everyone."
Her stomach twisted. "What do you mean by that?"
Chris plucked a curl that was in her cheek and twisted it before placing it behind her ear. "Maybe it's best if we go downstairs so you can see for yourself."
Clary made no argument against this, his words adding a bit to the panicked edge that formed within her. She turned towards the door handle, about to turn it, Chris right behind her, when she sharply spoke, "Wait!"
Chris waited, about to ask if she was missing something or if she needed to ask something else when she turned, pulling him down from the front of his shirt and kissing him firmly and strongly. She stood on her tiptoes despite his height being lowered, and before he could reciprocate her actions or even bring his hands up to wrap around her once more, she released him, breathing heavily, but she quickly composed herself.
"Okay," she beamed at his dumbfounded face, "Now we can go downstairs."
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Down in the living room, Jordan and Simon stood leaning against the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen. Maia was sitting on one of the stools, one hand pressed against her side. They were all staring at something, and before Clary could contemplate a question for them, her eyes beheld the tent that took the place of the couch in the living room.
It was a regular sleeping tent, one that you'd use to go out camping, and took a lot of space in their living room. She couldn't even see the television. It could have housed six people. No one else seemed to appear surprised about the tent's strange presence. They were all staring at it like they were waiting for something.
But for what?
As Clary and Chris walked past the tent towards the three of them, they all turned towards them. Clary resisted a flinch, preparing for the sudden widening of eyes, the pointing of fingers, the fights she would have to break off.
But none of them seemed at all surprised to see Chris there, although they all regarded him with some sort of wariness, their attention snapped onto Clary pretty fast.
"Clary!" Simon smiled, and she walked up to him and hugged him, "How are you feeling?"
"A little bruised and banged up, but otherwise I'm fine," she responded, stepping back away. "I would ask you the same thing, in fact, I'd ask you a whole lot of things right now…but can someone please explain the tent in the living room?"
Simon's smile evaporated right off of his face. He tried to recover it, but it was too late. She noticed.
"What's wrong?" she questioned, and when she looked at Jordan shifted uncomfortably, she looked to Maia, her tone a little less polite when she asked again, "What's going on?"
The female lycanthrope opened her mouth to speak, but when she did, Clary heard the sound of a zipper being opened, and as she looked to see what it was, she couldn't help but gape.
"Emery?" her voice squeaked embarrassingly, and she coughed, "What are you doing here?" Did I wake up in Wonderland or something? What's going on? Why won't anyone tell me anything?
The red headed warlock held his baseball cap in one hand, holding the other one up in salutation.
"Save your gasps for something worth gasping at, that is, if you'll feel like gasping. Just remember that there's a sink in the kitchen if you need to vomit and that there's no fluffy couch to fall back on if you faint." He peered at her, "Although, you've all seen worse than this, so I doubt there will be any fainting." He sounded almost disappointed and offered no information or explanation further than that.
Before any thought could come into her mind, Emery stepped away from the entrance of the tent, allowing Isabelle and Alec to duck out as well. Both of their faces looked sullen and stricken, and as Alec let the flap of the tent go, Clary saw something inside, something that looked like a body. She realized with a jolt that everyone was in the room, except for Jace. A horrible tendril of fear squirmed into her heart.
Her hand pressed against the rune on her wrist, which she made appear out of habit. She thought she saw Chris look at her wrist, at the sudden appearance of the completed rune, but made no comment. Her nerves felt so taut they could have snapped, and she longed to scream at someone, to demand to know what was going on, but no one was making a sound, so she didn't either.
She simply waited, her body tense as if preparing for a blow, as Emery snapped his fingers and the tent disappeared, revealing what was hidden inside. Her heart leaped in her throat, almost choking her. Her hand unconsciously found Chris's, and she wrapped their fingers together so tightly that she could feel her pulse throb.
Lying on a bundle of blankets and pillows with an ice pack on his forehead, was Jace.
Letting go of Chris, she stepped closer, along with Simon, Jordan, and Maia, and kneeled before Jace. His lips were trembling, his fingertips shaking as if he were cold, but his golden tanned skin was flushed with fever. His eyes seemed to dart behind his closed lids, as if even in sleep he was restless. His golden curls were pasted to his forehead and temples with sweat, and Clary couldn't help the hand that brushed a curl away from his eye. His skin seemed to burn against hers, as if he still had the heavenly fire within him.
But that wasn't what had her attention.
That wasn't what had her emerald green eyes wide ill-concealed shock. Perhaps a small amount of horror. Had she been looking at the others around her, she would have seen similar expressions reflected on their faces.
Emery was right. She could barely breathe again, much less gasp.
Jace's right arm was normal, muscular, tanned, covered in tiny scratch like scars from years of runes being etched onto his skin. But his left arm…was a monstrosity come to life from a fairy tale.
But then again, her whole life was like some weird, twisted, grisly fairy tale, wasn't it?
Behind her, Emery spoke, the words bleeding into her as she couldn't tear her gaze from Jace's arm, trying to make sense of it.
"The blade that disembodied his arm from his body was covered in a rare sort of poison. The poison doesn't affect the person, but it sinks into the body and into the limb or body part that is inflicted, and makes it hard for the two to come back together. To put it into simple terms: the poison got into the cut off arm, making it so that when I tried to join it back with his body, the body rejected it, as if it were some sort of disease the body had to fight against. It would not accept the arm even though it was part of the body's original make up, it kept denying it no matter how much I tried to purge the body and arm of the poison."
"Was it demon poison?" she heard Chris ask beside her. Clary didn't look to see whether or not Emery confirmed or denied his question.
When Clary still didn't speak, someone else did. She recognized Jordan's voice as he asked, "So what did you to do him arm?"
If you could even call it that, everyone, including Isabelle and Alec, though they had already seen it, was absorbed at the appendage that had become Jace's left arm.
It was morphing, right before her eyes. It was a strange thing to describe. Jace's shirt had been removed, the blankets tucked all the way to his chest, but both his arms were above the sheets. Starting a few inches below his shoulder, a strange circle of what reminded Clary of a black rubber band held together the strange arm to the rest of his body. The black was the barrier between gold, muscled skin, and…
A constant changing arm.
Emery spoke again, "Unfortunately, even if I changed the DNA in Jace's arm, the body would soon start to become familiar with his arm. The poison is meant to keep out anything that becomes too familiar. Nothing will be able to be connected to the end for too long before the body rejects it. So I made it so that he still has an arm, but it will never grow to be familiar on his body. It will always change form, right when the body starts to grow wary of it. It will be a discomfort for him, but I figured that for a Shadowhunter, it's better to have an arm, than to not."
His words sank into her head.
Arm. Poison. Disembodied.
His arm had been chopped off during the fight, while she had been knocked out. This was all her fault.
She felt her eyes water and blinked away the tears furiously, watching as what Emery said was true. Before her eyes, she saw that below the black rubber band, was an arm made of pure steel. The metal curved and formed the same exact muscles and shape that Jace's original arm had, mimicking it in very way. Then, to her astonishment, the arm suddenly changed before her eyes, no longer made of steel, but of a substance that looked exactly like adamas, the heavenly metal that is used to make seraph blades and steles and witchlight stones.
Clary gulped, not able to tear her eyes away from the reflected sheen of the seraph arm, unable to see how it connected to Jace's body. "How long between each change of his arm?"
Emery seemed to make a noise like he was thinking, "It depends on the material, but the arm will change nonetheless."
"Is there some sort of specific pattern to the changes?" she heard Isabelle ask. Izzy's voice sounded hollow, like she'd just gone through war.
"There's no set pattern. It will change randomly, which is best for his case."
Clary jumped as Jace flinched, and groaned in his sleep. The ice pack slipped off of his forehead, and she was quick to put it back. It was practically melted. "Why does he have a fever?"
Emery sat down beside her, "Getting your arm chopped off and re-stuck on is no laughing matter. Your body does it's best to fight off infection." He glanced at the seraph arm, "Let's just hope it never considers his arm an infection."
Clary felt empty on the inside, as if the sight of what had become of Jace's arm had scooped out something vital inside of her. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and its quick heat, the way it seemed to immediately sink into her skin, told her that it was Chris. The comfort filled in a bit of the empty space, but not enough of it.
This is my entire fault, the words drifted in her mind like a leaf through the air, and she found that just thinking it wasn't enough. "This is my fault."
Everyone quickly made a statement to contradict her, trying to convince her that she was not in the wrong, but that just made her feel even worse. But it didn't matter, she was right. If she hadn't been so careless, if she'd fought harder, instead of just giving up, then this wouldn't have happened. Jace would still have his arm.
At least you don't have to deal with him and Chris right now, a guilty part of thought and she immediately purged the idea. Her discomfort wasn't worth the loss of anyone's limb. However, staring at Jace's feverish form, she was reminded of the kiss they'd shared in his room not two nights ago, and she fought a blush down as she sensed Chris beside her. It would have to be dealt with later.
"He'll be okay though, won't he?" Clary looked up to see that Simon had asked the question, his arms crossed over his chest, looking down at Jace as his arm changed from seraph blade material to a deep blue skin tone. It reminded her greatly of how her poisoned arm had looked like when she was captured by the Clave.
Emery made a confirmed sound that lessened the weight in Clary's shoulders just a bit, "Of course he'll be fine. He'll be up and about before you know it. Except that he'll have an arm that likes to go through several metamorphoses an hour, he should be back in condition in several days, perhaps less if he lets himself rest properly."
"Knowing Jace, that's not likely to happen," Everyone jerked to look at Alec, who was slightly blushing at his attempt of a joke. It was a small one, but it brought a small smile on her face anyway.
"You're right," she said to the room at large, standing up. Chris stood at her side, like a guard protecting person, a knight protecting his queen. An angel protecting his entrusted. "Jace is Jace, and he's stubborn. He won't let this hold him down."
"He'll probably brag about it too," Jordan announced, waving at Jace's arm, "Saying how he's even better than us now because of it."
"Is it too early to make jokes about his arm?" Simon asked blatantly, and when everyone gave him a pointed look, he held out his arms in a 'what?' gesture, "Because several are coming to mind right now, and I want to be prepared for when Jace starts his bragging so that I can have a comeback."
"Feel free to share those," Jordan told him, and Mai flicked his ear.
"I'm sure you'll all find this amusing in the future, but right now, said amputee-maybe-not-amputee-anymore is still fighting through a fever, but you know," Emery shrugged, "a good laugh could do well for us all. I wouldn't mind a joke right now." When no one gave him a joke, Clary finally brought about something that had been lingering on the edge of her thoughts.
"Emery, what are you doing here?"
"I got bored again," at Clary's glare, he explained, "Did you expect me to sit around Alcatraz, listening to the ghosts plead their eternal innocence?"
"You left me in that vampire mansion!"
"There are ghosts in Alcatraz?" Jordan asked.
The red headed warlock ignored him, "You didn't make it to the Portal I set up in the waiting room, so I was a bit worried when I didn't see you again. An uncle's got to look after his great niece. Plus it wasn't my fault, remember that extra alarm that I wasn't sure about? It blocked our connection."
"You two are related?" Jordan asked.
"Clary who is this guy?" Alec pointed, "I appreciate what he did with Jace, but who is he and how did you meet up with him?"
Emery turned to look at Alec for three seconds, contemplating something in his mind, his hazel eyes twinkling, before pointing at Alec with one finger, his face blank, "Gay."
Alec made a sound like a dying dog, "What..? How did you know? Clary what did you tell him?"
"I can read people really well," Emery shrugged.
"Enough!" Clary and Chris both called out, and Clary looked at him and gave a half-hearted smile. She'd gotten somewhat used to being the sort of leader of the group. Nevertheless, the small joy quickly faded, and Clary rubbed her palms against her eyes. Her headache was coming back. She just realized how in the dark everyone was about a lot of things, and how they would get nowhere if they didn't spill all of their information now. Looking at Alec's blushing face, she remembered with a sinking feeling the dream she had had with Magnus. I'll have to tell them when we're done explaining everything.
"Emery," Chris spoke to the warlock, "Can I get my couch back?"
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In the end, it had taken a long time, a really long time, for everyone to throw all their cards onto the table. Clary had to begin again, for Chris's sake, starting at what had happened after he had been sent to hell. Her trek to Switzerland, the weeks of looking for ways to find him, finding Emery on Alcatraz and having him help her get to the vampire mansion, how that's where she found the gang and they've been living together ever since. How Magnus said that he wasn't able to summon him from hell because he was no longer there.
"Magnus!" Alec piped up, pulling out his phone. "I should call him and see how he is."
"He won't answer," Clary told him instantly, and then winced at her words.
Alec put the phone down, "What do you mean?"
Swallowing, she told him, "I'll explain when we get to that point, but for now, let's continue."
He looked a bit thrown off, and more than a little upset, but he didn't pull out his phone again. Clary then ended with how they were attacked by the Clave not only in Florida, but in New York as well. They'd planted Shadowhunters there, waiting for the chance that Clary might get homesick or something and want to visit her old home.
"This is where you explain how in Raziel's name you got here," Isabelle directed at Chris, who had been listening intently on everything she'd been saying. "How the hell – no pun intended—did you get back right when you did, and how did you find us?"
They were all in the kitchen, all of them huddled around the island in the middle of the kitchen, cups of coffee, tea, milk and in Simon's case, blood held in everyone's hands. Clary's hands slightly tightened on her mug of black coffee, switching her gaze from Chris, who was next to her, to Izzy, who was seated on the other side of the island. Truth be told, the kitchen was a bit more crowded than Clary ever remembered. Now with her, Chris, Isabelle, Alec, Jordan, Maia, Emery, Simon, and Jace, who was sleeping on the couch in the living room, the house was feeling smaller. But it brought comfort to Clary, somewhat, even with the awkward state of things, but she was no longer going to be alone in this house. It was no longer just her and the silent walls.
Isabelle and Chris had a staring contest, in which both of them brought on their best poker faces, but their eyes spoke volumes. Clary watched, not interfering. Izzy obviously still held anger towards Chris, and she guessed that the female Shadowhunter was debating whether or not to just forget everything that Clary had told her and tear the head off of her brother right this instant, but Clary said nothing. This was something between the two of them, and it was better now than later that they settled it.
In a strange way, it was intriguing, watching the two of them have a silent brawl, in which Clary could not even guess what was going on in their minds. But before she could try, it was over. Both of them lowered their gazes, the fire that had quickly ignited in their eyes, Isabelle's piercing and anger filled, Chris's reasonable and calm, had extinguished, an understanding coming between the two of them. A knot slowly unraveled in Clary's chest, and as she flicked her gaze to Alec, she saw the same look of understanding dawn onto him. An ounce of relief spread into her veins, not enough to completely alleviate her, but it was something.
Maia was the one to speak after that, "So, how about that hell of a story?"
But before Chris could even open his lips to speak, a deep groan emitted from the living room.
"Ugh," Jace groaned, and the sound of chairs scraping back filled the kitchen as everyone made way for the couch. "What, what happened? Where am I?"
But before anyone could get to the living room, Jace shouted, "Holy bastard of Raziel! What in the name of the Angel happened to my arm!"
Alec was the first to reach Jace, who had been in the process of sitting up, propping himself up on his arm, which happened to be his left arm, the currently mutating one. "Jace, calm down," he spoke to his parabatai's white face, who was grimacing and gripping his left arm, "you're at the house, and we're all here."
"My arm, what happened to it?" Jace's demanded, his pale face looking into Alec's face, "What happened?"
"Jace, do you remember the fight yesterday?" Alec prompted him.
"The attack?" he repeated, and then realization dawned onto him, "The attack! Is Clary-?"
"I'm fine," she answered, coming over to the couch, "Um, we're all fine." She carefully stepped back, allowing his sight to reach behind her, where Chris was standing not too far behind.
Jace looked at Chris like he was a math problem he was expected to solve, before cold comprehension seeped onto his features, but then he hardened his face into a mask. "So you really did make it back?" His voice was carefully clear of emotion.
Chris nodded, and Clary felt like she was strangely in the middle of something, but she longed to not be.
"Care to digress as to how you got out?" Jace asked.
Chris smirked, "Actually, I was just about to discuss that with everyone. Looks like Sleeping Beauty woke up at just the right time."
"Too bad there was no kiss involved." Jace's eyes flickered over to her, and Clary felt her traitorous cheeks heat up. Chris's eyes hardened like steel, but kept the nonchalant tone in his form. "Since when have your eyes been green, by the way?"
"Oh, this is fun," they all turned to look at Emery, who had stayed in the kitchen, leaning over the bar that separated the two rooms to peer in at the group like he was watching a sitcom, "And though it pains me to ruin this, I believe I have a patient to attend to."
He walked over to them, while Jace peered around at them questioningly, "Who is he and why did he call me his 'patient?'"
Clary spoke, "Jace this is Emery, a warlock that I met on Alcatraz and also the very man who did the thing to that is now your arm." She indicated to his arm, the skin now resembling the rubber you'd find on a dodge ball.
Jace raised an eyebrow at her introduction, and immediately looked at the warlock who had left on his cap and was observing Jace's arm with the scrutiny of a doctor. "And he did this to me, why? I mean, I love the smell of rubber like any other person, but please change it."
"Oh don't worry," Emery smiled, completely at ease, "It'll change on its own very soon."
Explaining to Jace how his arm had gotten to the state that it was then was a lot like watching someone go through denial, until slowly, slowly, he came to the conclusion. Clary felt that she was as guilty as the person who had cut his arm off in the first place.
"So you're telling me," Jace had asked, not having said anything at all throughout the whole time, "That someone from the Clave did this?"
"Yup," Emery answered him, placing his hand on Jace's forehead, in which Jace quickly flinched away from him, but Emery paid no mind, "You still have a slight fever, but that's alright."
Jace had a laugh, "I have a metamorphing arm and you're worried about my fever?"
The red headed warlock's gaze suddenly turned serious, making Jace's smile evaporate, "Your fever is the indicator of how much your body is conforming to your arm. The higher the fever, the more your body is starting to get greatly familiar with your arm, meaning that the poison that was infected into you will do its job of having your body reject your arm. An increasing fever means your arm is about to change, that it should change. If it doesn't though, you are to immediately come to me."
Simon spoke then, "So he comes with a warning? Cool."
Jace glared at Simon with his golden, lion like eyes, "You should have worn the Spider Man spandex. It could have saved us all the time and energy. And an arm."
Clary stifled a laugh, for Simon's sake.
"Wait, is he going to be like for the rest of his life?" Jordan asked, "With a fever? All the time?"
When Emery made an indifferent nod, but when Jace's eyes widened, he turned back to Chris, "So are you going to tell us your tale? I would like to hear of hell from a primary source."
"And this way we don't have to repeat everything to everyone later on. Good timing, Jace, really good timing." Jordan told him.
"Glad to be of service," Jace said, dripping with sarcasm. "Now will someone get barbed wire or something? There's an itch on my left elbow, and this damn rubber skin is not easy to scratch."
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Clary was transfixed, not daring to lose her attention for even a second. She listened in fascination and horror as Chris told them his entire journey in hell.
The fall was what she had wanted to know about the most. Having seen him fall firsthand, Clary couldn't even imagine what it must have been like, not knowing where you were, where you were going, and how you were getting there, only knowing that there was almost no chance that you were getting back out.
She'd hoped that that would be the worst of it, but of course Clary was wrong. Of course he'd had to fight against demon after demon. Of course he'd had to trek across dangerous, life threatening landscapes. Of course he had to seek the help of larger, Greater Demons, had to serve them in order to seek a chance of getting out.
"There was one demon that kept following me around, I think it was called Unuaq, but it was an annoying thing, weaker than a whipped dog." Chris had commented, but Clary sensed something more from his statement. She felt that he cared more for the demon than he wanted them to know.
It was when the Lilith was mentioned that Clary gasped, alongside with everyone else in the room.
"That lady is still alive?" Jordan gaped.
"Demons like her never really die," Izzy said bitterly, "They just fall back into a deep, deep part of hell, and take a long time to get back."
"Looks like she didn't fall back deep enough." Jace spat.
"Maybe she did," Clary said thoughtfully, staring at the coffee mug that was again in her hands, "Maybe it was Chris who had fallen so deep that he happened to see her."
Chris didn't refute nor accept her offer, but instead seemed to be contemplating, "She wanted me to rule. To take power, to take a throne and be a king beside her."
Maia raised her eyebrow, "And what did you say?"
Chris looked at her, "I refused."
"What, did power look unappealing to you?" Jace asked.
"Actually, yeah, it wasn't appealing at all."
Clary quickly interrupted, "So wait, if she could make a boat that sent you out of hell, then how come she hasn't tried to escape yet?"
Emery answered this time, "Demons have a larger presence in hell. Hell knows their supposed to be there, and they need bigger openings through hell to get to the human world. The bigger the opening, the more power they need to make them."
Chris nodded, "That's what I thought as well."
Clary noted that Chris had quickly adjusted to Emery, though earlier she could have sworn that Chris frowned in the warlock's direction. But now they were getting along well, happy to exchange knowledge with each other.
"Do you think she'll try to get out anytime soon?" Alec inquired.
Chris frowned, "Depends on what you mean by soon. Maybe not today, tomorrow, or anytime in the next few weeks, but she will be able to, eventually. I just don't know when."
"Do you think she wants to come back?" Clary asked.
"Wants to come just to be back? No," he told them, "But if she saw she could get revenge, she would. But she'd probably be significantly weaker. She'd have to wait years before she's ready."
"Great, we have plenty of time to prepare for a very angry, very strong, very crazy demon snake eye lady who wants to kill us. Awesome," Simon said.
"And we won't even have Chris to appease her, because apparently he's been disowned." Jace commented.
Clary resisted looking up it surprise at the name Chris. Everyone was using his name so freely now, like it had always been his name. She saw it in Chris's form too, the way he was slowly releasing his discomfort.
"So let's see if we've got everything in order now," Simon stated, raising his fingers, "You went to hell," he put down one finger, "you got out via Lilith cruises," he put the second finger down, continuing his counting, "made it to Hell, Norway, used 'The Giving Tree' to get to Switzerland, and then climbed into the window of the training room, where you slipped into the house and saw us fighting in New York?"
"Yeah, that sums it up." Chris shrugged.
"So, is that it?" Simon asked the room at large, "Are we all caught up?"
Clary pointed out then, "What about your eyes? Are you sure you have no idea what changed them?"
"He must have left all of his demons behind in hell," Jace commented absently, picking at his leather left arm.
Chris shrugged, "I think it may have something to do with what Lilith did to get me out, but I have no idea further than that." He looked to Jace, "It is likely though, that I left some of my 'demon' over in hell. My blood comes from Lilith's, so you could say she disowned me or something, taking some of my demon with her."
The room went quiet, everyone processing this information, not knowing what more to add.
Simon looked around, "So, now are we all caught up?"
Clary winced, "Oooh, no we're not."
"What now?" Jordan asked, "Are you secretly related to the boogey man? Is there an alien friend that you've been hiding in your attic and it could destroy the world? What more is there?"
Alec looked at her, "Does it have to do with Magnus?"
"…yes."
"What happened to the warlock?" Chris asked her.
"We're talking about Magnus Bane, correct?" Emery asked.
"Do you know him?" Isabelle asked curiously, "Have the two of you met before?"
"Of course I've met him, quite the character, I should have to tell you."
"Tell us about it," Jace rolled his eyes, "But what about Magnus?" Jace's eyes bored into her, looking at how Clary had sat on the ground leaning against the wall of the living room next to Chris, instead of sitting on the small space on the sofa, a space he'd scooted over to make. "What's wrong with our esteemed High Warlock of Brooklyn?"
"He's captured by the Clave." Clary decided to just say it.
Alec looked like he was having a heart attack, "What?! Why didn't you say this sooner? Did you see it happen before you jumped into the Portal when we were being attacked by the Clave in Florida?"
"Nope. Actually, he told me last night, while I was unconscious through my dreams."
Alec's blue eyes clouded with confusion, and looked at Clary like she was going crazy.
"Wait, let me rephrase that," she held her hands up before, "While I was knocked out, Magnus contact me. Something about reaching into my mind because it was vulnerable at the time and easy to slip into, considering that I was the only one asleep at the time. But that's not the point," she shook her head, "He was chained and in possession of the Clave and accused of treason because he helped us escape, and he said they were after our parents next."
"What?" Isabelle cried, "Why are they doing that?"
Clary gritted her teeth, "The Clave is convinced that because we're their children, they're helping us do all of things that we've been doing as of late. They think they're in on it."
"In on what? There's nothing in to be on!? Alec protested, "We helped, or rather tried, to get Chris back, but that's it."
"That's not how the Clave sees it." Chris told them, "They think that we're all horrible criminals, and in a way, I can see why."
"They think we're the Circle 2," Clary muttered.
"And we're not?" Chris asked her, causing everyone to snap their necks in his direction, making him look pointedly at them, "Think about it, we're all, with the exceptions of Maia, Jordan, and Simon, children of ex-Circle members, we're looked as a threat to the Clave, we've been defying their laws, their rules, why aren't we a sort of reincarnation of the Circle?"
"Because we're not completely crazy and bent on destroying Downwolders, that's why." Maia said.
Chris shook his head, "The Circle's original intention wasn't to kill Downworlders, that was after Valentine's father died. Before then, they were just a group of Shadowhunters, doing what Shadowhunters do."
"So what do you expect us to do?" Alec asked, warily.
That was when Chris was about to open his mouth again, when a look came over him, and it daunted on everyone. What were they going to do? Chris didn't care for Magnus, or Jocelyn, Luke, and everyone else that was likely to get in trouble with the Clave because of them, she knew that, so obviously he didn't care what happened to them either way.
But Clary did care, she knew she had to share the blame for this, a large part of this. She had to help them. Though how she would though, she had no idea yet.
"Did Magnus say whether the Clave already arrested our parents, or that they were going to?" Isabelle asked Clary.
She wracked her brain for the warlock's exact words, and came up with, "He didn't exactly say. He said that he was being arrested, and that Maryse and everyone else was to, but I don't know if that meant they already were, or were about to be."
"Only one way to find out." Alec said. He strode into the kitchen, pulling out a pen and paper from the cupboard, and started to write in large, looping letters.
Emery gave an impressed whistle, "That's a useful cupboard."
"What is he doing?" Jace asked, craning his neck from where he was seated.
Alec answered or him, "I'm writing a letter to mom, and I'm going to send it to her desk."
Clary spoke skeptically, "Alec. Don't you think that would look like evidence to the Clave that your mom really is helping us? That's not what we want."
"I never said it was going to be from me," Alec retorted, and Clary could see him signing the bottom of the letter, and though she couldn't read the exact wording, that did not look like he wrote 'Love, Alexander' to her.
"Oh I get it." Simon said, looking over Alec's shoulder, "You're writing incognito. Using a sort of coding in your letter so that to anyone it's just a random letter from someone, but really it's from you."
"Exactly." Alec responded, thrusting the letter into the cupboard, "And I told her to just leave a response in the drawer of her desk, so that I know if she gets it. If she does, she'll know that the Clave is coming after her, and she'll, she'll think of something—" he scratched his head, "—maybe she'll go into hiding, I don't know. But if she doesn't respond…"
"Then she's already caught." Chris finished for him.
"Not just her, but Luke and Jocelyn too." Simon added.
"Alec," Maia suddenly spoke up, "Can't you pull up a newspaper article from Alicante, like you've been doing before? Maybe if your parent have been captured it would be in the paper, or at least some sort of information to help us out."
Alec's blue eyes widened as he thrust his hand into the cupboard once more, pulling out multiple copies of folded up newspapers, big black letters spelling out Angeli Vero, The Angel's Truth. Everyone crowded around the island again as he tossed the pile onto it, everyone snatching one up for themselves, including Jace.
Clary unfolded her copy, her eyes ready to flick through the pages to look through every article if she needed to. But she didn't need to, because the story she was looking for was on the first page.
Her blood went cold as she read through the article, and judging by the absence of sound coming from the room, everyone else had found it too.
Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern, son of deceased Circle leader Valentine Morgenstern and brother of wanted fugitive Clarissa Adele Morgenstern, was spotted yesterday in the city of New York around dusk. Fellow Shadowhunters who were on the scene report that they had spotted Clarissa Morgenstern wandering on the streets of New York, and had done their duty and had sprung to capture her. Seconds later, her cohorts, Isabelle Lightwood, Alexander Lightwood, and Jonathan Christopher Lightwood, as well as two lycanthropes and a vampire, the very Daylighter, it was assumed, added to the fight, as they were all on the fugitive's side. Shadowhunter Amy Burntstone claims that minutes after the fight had begun, that suddenly a new fighter joined the group, and that enemy happened to be none other than Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern, who was supposedly captured and trialed for a sentence to the demon realm approximately three months ago. Morgenstern had helped to free his sister from the grasps of the Clave, allowing all of their members to flee as well. Citizens of Alicante are beginning to wonder whether this is a sign of a new generation of rebel Shadowhunters, created by the very children of the old generation…
Clary couldn't stand much more of it. Tearing it in two, she lit the stove, letting the paper burn above the flames. Around her, she was hearing different levels of disgust and disbelief.
"Guys, look." Emery caught their attention before they could get too out of control. Clary's insides felt like they were writhing. "Listen to this." He cleared his throat, "'Hours after the sighting of J.C.M, the Clave could stand no more. It was highly suspected that Jocelyn Graymark the widow of Valentine Morgenstern and mother of both Clarissa and Jonathan, was involved in helping her children, including the mysterious return of J.C.M who's return to the human world should have been ultimately impossible. Her husband, Luke Graymark, have been arrested for questioning and a possible trial for the assistance of wanted criminals. The parents of the Lightwood siblings, Maryse and Robert Lightwood, are also highly suspected, and are likely to also be arrested.' Well isn't that idiotic? Putting in the paper that they might get arrested when there's a high chance that they'll read it, tsk tsk."
"Hold on, when was this printed," Clary asked, suddenly regretting burning hers but then Chris answered her, looking at the front page again.
"This morning, only a few hours ago."
"Then there is a chance she might have read it, maybe Mom already knows she's in trouble and is doing something right now!" Izzy looked to Alec and Jace.
Clary bit on her lip. Jocelyn, arrested?
She clenched her fists against her side. "Whether your mom knows she's in trouble or not, there are still Magnus and others to worry about."
Everyone looked at her suddenly, all of their eyes prickling on the word, others.
She didn't doubt that they all thought she hated Jocelyn, except Alec, who saw her show her concern. The way she reacted in Athens was no concealed show, it was open and straight to the point. They'd had a family argument right in front of everyone.
That doesn't mean she's not your mother. Her conscience chastised her.
"Clary." She looked up into a matching pair of emerald green eyes, and for a moment she was disoriented, before she realized she looking at Chris, his voice gone soft on her. In the corner of her eye, she saw Jace watching them, but she didn't react to him at all. In fact she didn't react to Chris either, because now was not the time, as he bent down and asked her, "Clary, what are you thinking of?"
She drew in a deep breath, the answer coming to her before she even knew what she was about to say. Feeling steel in her eyes, she directed her answer to everyone in the room.
"I don't know what you all want to do, but I know what I'm going to do. The Clave has my mother, as well as Magnus and the man I consider to be my father. I'm not just going to continue to play the wanted fugitive like they make me up to be and stand back as this happens."
"What are you going to do?" Simon asked her, his brown eyes growing concerned, as if he knew, which she wouldn't doubt, what she about to suggest, "Clary, are you just going to sneak into the Clave and break them out?"
"Oh, I'm not going to be sneaking around anymore."
Emery raised an eyebrow, an amused smile growing on his face, "Oh, and what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to do just what the Clave wants," she said, and despite her situation, she grinned, "I'm going straight to them, and turn myself in."
Lacie: *runs out of the room in a fury and pounds down the halls of the hospital, sprinting past people, out the hospital and off into the streets*
Clary: *peers out of doorway of Chris's hospital room, watching the little speed cloud that Lacie made in her run disappear* …all I said was that City of Heavenly Fire came out already…
Chris: *groggy* what happened? *blinks several times*
Clary: Chris! *rushes back to him* you're awake! You're here! *blinks*….omg, you're here, you came… how ironic.
Chris: What are you talking about me coming? I'm right here.
Clary: No! I mean in City of Lost Souls, you said 'I am coming' but now it's been days since City of Heavenly Fire came out, and now you're here!
Chris: COHF came out already! How long was I out?
Clary: *wincing* like…two weeks…it was quite the tranquilizing dart you got shot with
Chris: I would kill Lacie if it weren't for the fact that she's probably dying right now already
Lacie: *runs back into the room and collapses into chair sobbing* NO! I DON'T HAVE IT! WHY! WHY DON'T I HAVE IT!
Clary: Didn't you just go out to buy it?
Lacie: I don't have MONEY D'X *cries* and the worst part is that the other day while I was writing this story, I needed to look back to something that I couldn't remember that happened in the series, so I went to its wiki page, but when I clicked on it, it said WARNING, RECENTLY ADDED INFORMATION CONTAIN SPOILERS and I was like 'Spoilers? What new information? Then I realized that COHF came out and I think I screamed. And all my internet friends are dying because of what's going on in the book and I'm just like ALALAALLA I CANT HEAR YOU DON'T TELL ME WHATS HAPPENING STOOOOOOPPP
Chris: Then ask your parents or something
Lacie: *gets shy* well, you see, last week, since it was my birthday, my parents bought me two books, and my mom says I have too many books, and I think it's too early to ask for more. BUT I CANT STAND IT
Clary: Change of topic before your flood the hospital with your tears. You took too long to update. Why?
Lacie: BECAUSE I WAS SUFERING FROM BROKEN HEART SYNDROME I don't have the new TMI book and I was suffering I just couldn't type because I was like 'I don't want to write a TMI fanfic I want to READ TMI'
Chris: You're hopeless
Lacie: SHUT UP BEFORE I TRANQUILIZE YOU AGAIN
Chris:…so, how about me and Clary reuniting and stuff
Clary: Chris, drop it
Lacie: *composes herself just long enough to finish ending* So, yeah, I'm sorry I took so long. But here you have it. And to those of you who are suffering like me from lack of TMI, let us watch in agony as all you lucky bumrags who already have it experience over emotional ecstasy from a BOOK. I HOPE YOU CRY. I'm kidding! But seriously, if you feel like crying at any time, just lay on your side, try not to cry, and then cry a lot.
See you soon!