The Angel to Balance the Demon

by Lacie-Abyss

Sebastian is back to take Clary from her friends and family, offering to leave them alone if she come peacefully. Clary despises him, but will time and a change in his behavior cause her to soften up to him, or will she still choose her friends over the demon that is her brother? After COLS. COMPLETE AFTER A YEAR AND A MONTH.

40. Angels, Demons, and Shadowhunters

Lacie: *looks up from City of Heavenly Fire book in her hands* Hey guys, I have to start by saying, I'm honestly surprised with how you all responded to Emery. It's like, wow.

Clary: It's because Emery is lovable, and funny, and crazy, unlike Chris, who's just cranky

Chris: Untrue

Clary: So true, you calling me a liar?

Chris: Well you're not telling the truth now are you?

Emery: Children, children, calm down. Or else I'll tell your mother. Who also happens to be my great great great great etc. niece but you know, things are weird.

Clary: *whirls in her seat and stares with an expressionless face* when did you get here?

Emery: *tilts head to the side* I was always here

Chris: Like, always, as in from the beginning of this intro, or always as in…like, the whole fanfic?

Emery: Always :)

Clary: That doesn't answer the question….

Lacie: *looks up again from book, sort of distracted and doesn't want to stop reading* He was always here, always in the back of my mind, you know?

Clary: Yeah, but, was he always in the room?

Chris: That is immensely disturbing

Emery: Hey look, you two are behaving again. That means I don't have to tell your mother.

Clary: That would be for the best. Chris and her would kill each other on sight if you do.

Chris: Not on sight. We have to face each other eventually.

Clary: O-O By the Angel…You're right, this chapter…

Emery: Reminds me of me and my mother, not that I really knew her, but there was one time when there was a snow storm on Hawaii—

Clary: On Hawaii?

Emery: Yes, there was. However back then it wasn't called Hawaii.

Chris: What caused the snowstorm?

Emery: I did

Clary: Why? D:

Emery: That's where my mother comes in, you see- *is interrupted by a suddenness of Lacie screaming at the top of her lungs, jumps out of her chair, throws COHF onto the table and stares at it while she hyperventilates*

Clary: Are you oka-?

Lacie: NOO! *points at book accusingly while Clary jumps* NO NO NO NO NO YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME! AFTER ALLLLL WE WENT THROUGH

Chris: Someone call the police. She's spasming.

Lacie: *who is indeed spasming* BUT I—I THOUGHT—AND THE THING- BUT WHY- *makes random hand gestures and turns to flee out of the door*

Clary: Lacie wait!

Lacie: *actually comes back, but only to retrieve the thrown COHF book* I DON'T FRICKIN OWN ANYTHING *and then runs out again sobbing*

Clary:….

Chris:….

Emery: Well that was amusing. Fine display of human emotion in complete despair, confusement, horror, and denial. What do they call it these days? The feels?

Lacie: *calls out from somewhere far away* THE FEELS ARE REAL

Clary: Ummmm… Enjoy?

Emery: Say it with enthusiasm!

Enjoy!

Simon POV

Simon had never wanted to be a vampire.

But then again, it wasn't every day that you stormed into a highly guarded and warded city full of armed Nephilim alongside your kick ass girlfriend and her equally kick ass adoptive brother, so Simon decided to live up to the occasion and put his vampireness to good use. As he swung his fist into the gut of a barrel chested Shadowhunter, Simon spun on his heel, glimpsing at the world around him.

Emery had caused a huge explosion around the edge of Alicante's borders, destroying a large section on the wards that kept Downworlders and mundanes out, but Shadowhunters in. The explosion had rattled the earth beneath his feet, and he even now he could still feel it vibrating within him, the ground humming a lullaby as he snarled in the face of pointed chin women, dodging her lit seraph blade and flinging her towards a brick wall.

It was strange how he could feel so connected to the Earth, so in sync with it, when he was considered a monster. A creature that already had one foot in hell, while the other barely held on to the mortal world.

Isabelle and Jace weren't far off from where he was, and they were slowly making their way through the city, the blasted wards just behind them. The explosion had happened when the city was just in sight, the glowing demon towers a bright column on the horizon. Then the ground shook and Simon could feel an opening towards the city. Could feel the entrance towards thousands of red blooded people.

Well that, and Emery told them where the opening was.

Simon caught a glimpse of Jace's golden hair in the corner of his eye, then a flick of Isabelle's raven hair, and he quickly dispatched the Shadowhunter he was fighting, a tall, scarecrow thin man with thinning hair, and ran after them. He could see the Gard in the distance, and that's where they were trying to get to. That's where Clary was, according to Emery. Only that would be hard to do, considering the fact that there were Shadowhunters everywhere. They would have been completely annihilated had they not caught them off guard, the people only managing to strap on about half their gear and take whatever flimsy weapon they could, a blade, a knife, a board with a nail at the end. Simon even saw what could have been his great grandmother fling a silver spoon towards his eye. He had ducked, almost grinning, when he noticed the spoon had been filed to a point, where it stuck, quivering, in the wooden board with the nail of the man behind him.

He caught up with Jace and Isabelle, who had been stopped again by another group that had emerged from around a street corner, and helped them out. Even if they had the upper hand a while ago, people couldn't be caught by surprise forever. Distraction or not, the three of them couldn't hold back a whole city of Shadowhunters.

"Need help?"

A growl emerged from behind him, and he rolled to the side to let Maia and Jordan leap into view, gone fully werewolf. Their entrance caused the Shadowhunters to reel back, but only for three seconds before they recognized the new threat, and then they advanced again.

"Yeah," Simon said, getting back to back with Izzy, "Nice timing."

Jordan snarled his teeth in response, as close to a smile as he could manage, and they listened as Jace shouted, "Get into star formation!"

He shouted some other commands after that, but star formation sounded pretty self-explanatory to him, so he paid the other ones no mind.

Simon had never wanted to be a vampire, but it was this sort of stuff, the moments that felt like they weren't happening at all, that it was all a dream, that when he looked to his right and saw Isabelle wearing a glowing grin as she flicked her whip into the air and smiled at him, those moments felt like they were the ones that made him appreciate many more.

Chris POV

Sneaking into Alicante was actually really easy. He should know, considering that now would be his second time doing so.

Of course, the first involved shutting down the demon towers, reigning terror over the City of Glass, and summoning the Angel himself and ultimately lead to massive chaos, but Chris tried not to think about that so much as he and Jocelyn pulled their hoods up so as to not draw attention as they clambered through the opening in the wards.

Chris was very impressed with how Emery managed to do that, and it was very helpful that people weren't actually focused on the ward, but more on the people that had crashed right through it. He thought he saw Jace's golden head before disappearing in a wave of black geared Shadowhunters.

He himself wore gear, though had the plan gone accordingly, there would have been no reason to wear it. Technically, he shouldn't have been involved in this at all, which really irritated him, and should have been sitting back home, waiting for Clary to make her escape. In a way, he was slightly relieved there had been a change of plans, that way he wouldn't have to be sitting around all day in a house that was getting to cramped for comfort, but he felt slightly guilty that in order for him to be on the action, chaos had to be caused.

Only slightly though.

Chris swerved down a side street, steering clear of the direction of where all the fighting was coming from. He thought he heard the sound of dog paws, the lycanthropes, behind him, but he didn't turn his head to check. They couldn't head straight for the Gard, so they'd had to take a detour and go around the long way. Ironically, the idea was to draw as little attention as possible.

The sound of their footsteps echoed across the cobblestone lined ground, the shadows of the buildings from the narrow streets around them cloaking over them. Chris flicked a white strand of hair away from his eyes.

Out of the corner of his eye he was able to see Jocelyn's bright red hair from beneath her hood, and he couldn't help but clench his jaw at how strange this felt for him. He was alone with his mother. Truly alone, for the first time since he was so small his memory couldn't reach past that far.

He didn't know why Emery had insisted that they both go; certainly, with all of his intuitiveness of people he was able to read the hatred from Jocelyn's expression. The way it felt like a lightning bolt was about to pierce the sky any second. Chris didn't know how they were going to do this.

His emotions for his mother were…tangled.

Valentine had taught him that his mother had abandoned him, left him, hated him, and deep down, in his childish of dreams, he wished for those things to be lies. . Then he met his mother, and all of that turned out to be true. Jocelyn hated the monster that was her son. And Chris didn't know what more to do about that. He could play the cold, indifferent son who didn't care what his mother thought of him, shrug off all of her threats, ran away with Clary and leave everything behind.

That's why he was going after Clary again, to leave everything behind once more. So that things could be like they were the first time.

That was kind of hard to do when Jocelyn was not two steps behind him, neither of them saying a word since they stepped foot out of the house. He wondered what she was thinking right now, at this moment, staring at the back of a son that was the exact replica of her ex-husband.

"You're quiet, mom." He said as they stopped before turning a corner, peering out into the intersection where he saw a flower shop to his right, and a shop that sharpened weapons on his left. Currently, he was leaning against a bakery, where next door they also sold maces. Alicante, you had to love it.

"What am I supposed to say to a boy that was hell-sent and somehow made it back even though he was pulled down by chains?" she said without emotion. Her face was a blank mask, reminding him a lot of Clary when he had first seen her in the alley, had first offered him their shared life. He took on his mother's lead, copying her poker face, almost as if he were disinterested in their conversation completely. It's a trick that apparently both Jocelyn and Valentine knew very well. Acting as if others people's words were knives that you could dodge.

"Some small talk would be preferable, like the weather, the smell of this bakery, how your wedding went-"

"How do you know I was married?" she asked.

"You're wearing your ring." He responded, his eyes trailing to the band on her finger. Her hand unconsciously slid over the ring, as if she had forgotten it was even there.

"It was small." She surprisingly said, "The wedding, that is. And if we're going to speak, how about we avoid the small talk. Let's start with my question of how you even got back in the first place."

He looked at her, his form towering over hers. A shadow covered the top half of her face, yet her piercing green eyes seemed to somehow look through all that. He was much taller than her, stronger than her, more powerful than her, yet, there was something she emanated that made him want to step back. It frightened him, and then he was angry that he could ever be frightened of a woman who was so much shorter than he.

But she's not just a woman, she's your mother, she's Clary's mother.

His emotions got even more tangled, and he wished Clary were there to help him untangle them, to help to pick them out, to separate them, tell him what they were and what they meant.

"I sought the help of a Greater Demon, and I ended up facing Lilith." He said truthfully, "She cast me out of hell, renouncing me as her son."

A strange, belated sting went through his heart just then. He had been rejected, by both mothers. This was why he needed Clary so badly.

Jocelyn didn't say a word about it anymore, and it was almost as if she had thought the exact same thing as he, that no mother could ever love him as he was then, "And what about your eyes? What trick are you playing that make them look like that?"

He blinked. An emotion had crept out of her stone mask, just a small whisper, as if it had just managed to slip out of a crack. But he'd heard it. Was it, sorrow?

"What trick? I'm not doing anything." He said honestly, caught off guard.

"Your eyes," she repeated, "They're not black anymore. What is this? Some sort of glamour that is hard to break through?" She stepped involuntarily closer to him, as if she hadn't meant to do it, her eyes looking deeply into him, as if she were looking for his soul, her voice getting smaller, "Because no matter how much I try, I can't break through it."

Oh, his eyes. He had forgotten they were green. Sort of hard to remember when he couldn't see them.

"I'm not making a glamour." He told her, and she raised a copper eyebrow.

"Then how in the name of the Angel do they look this way?" she sounded less sour than before, more…curious. No, not curious, hungry to know why.

"I'm not sure. My best guess is that when Lilith disowned me, she took away everything she gave me. But I'm not sure exactly how much she took." He didn't know why he was telling her this, didn't know why he was so eager to explain this to her. Why the words seemed to come easily to him. He shouldn't want to talk to her. He shouldn't care if she knew or not. And on some level, he didn't. But on another…

"So…wait-" she suddenly stepped back, her eyes looking startled, "You, you-"

"It's what you always wanted, wasn't it?" he intended the words to be neutral, but they came out like acid, like sharp blades puncturing her. "A normal boy, the perfect child. Not the demon you ended up with, right?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her hands fisted at her sides. Her emerald eyes, like his, he realized with a jolt, he had his mother's eyes now, were swimming with something he never saw before.

Chris suddenly didn't want to see it anymore. He turned her back on her, crossing the street and into another alley, "Come on, your daughter is waiting for us."

He didn't turn back to see if she followed, he didn't see the one tear that escaped her eye before she quickly wiped it, and followed him silently towards the Gard.

Luke POV

"Please tell me you did not just send my wife who just got out of imprisonment with her demonic son who hate each other out to help bring back my daughter, who is being chased by the Clave and considered a murdering criminal," Luke spoke to the cap wearing warlock who was currently crouching on the ground, his hands put together. His overall body language suggested he was in deep concentration, and he must have been, considering he was talking to Chris, Jocelyn, Clary, and Jace in their minds, taking down spells, and taking down wards, but when he spoke, he sounded as if he were sitting at a café, sipping a late.

"He's not demonic." Emery said plainly. "And Clary is not your daughter."

"I practically raised her and love her like she's my own," Luke explained, crossing his arms, feeling a bit of pain in his wounds, "I don't care if she's not genetically mine."

"Oh, alright then." Emery said, his hazel eyes quickly dismissing the matter as if everything had been resolved, "But Chris isn't demonic. Didn't you see his eyes?"

Luke had indeed seen Jonathan's, or rather, Chris's eyes. But what do eyes have to do with anything? He faintly remembered Jocelyn telling him long ago, in a night when it had been the two of them, leaning on each other and staring wordlessly into the night sky, of how she felt like her first born son should have had her eyes, so did that mean something was different now?

"They'll kill each other! Didn't you see how they reacted here? It was like putting together two of the same charged magnets." And the tension in the room had intensified with them; Luke could practically feel the hairs of his arm prickling just thinking about it.

"No they won't, I'll watch them." The red headed warlock responded casually. Luke had found the warlock, in the shortest of terms, quite absent minded.

No, that wasn't right. It was like talking to a polite stranger. They'll be kind, talk back to you, maybe even tell you some nice things, but they won't reveal their whole story. You don't know the whole truth about them, who they are, what they do, what they feel about certain things. If you talk to them about certain subjects, they'll open up, but on others they'll hush down.

But unlike a stranger, who eventually opened up to you, Emery stayed the same. Like he was more in his own strange world than in theirs. It certainly didn't help that Luke was the only one trying to talk to him. Maia and Jordan had gone to join Jace, and that left Alec, Magnus, Emery and himself. Alec looked up from where he watching Magnus, and spoke towards Emery. "But you're also talking to Clary and Jace, and taking down spells. I know you're powerful and all that, but how can you keep all of that up?"

Perhaps it was the sound of Alec's voice, or maybe something else going on in the world, but as soon as Alec finished speaking, Magnus stirred, and promptly attempted to sit up.

Alec rushed to his side, "Easy, you shouldn't sit up yet." But then he took a step back, when Magnus waved his hand, indicating he was alright, despite the dark circles beneath his eyes, and the sickly pallor of his skin. His black hair spiked out over his head from lying down on the couch, and his green eyes surveyed the room around him like a child awakening from slumber, which was strange, considering that Magnus was anything but a child.

"Oh good," Emery nodded, taking Magnus into account, "You're awake Magnus, maybe now you can help me so that these two don't think I'm overworking myself."

Magnus stared at Emery, taking in his crouched body on the ground, and then blinked, "Do I know you?"

Alec stared between the two warlocks, "Wait," he addressed Magnus, "You don't know him? I thought you knew him."

Luke had sort of assumed the two warlocks knew each other as well, considering how Emery had helped to release Magnus of his chains and such. But also, Luke was starting to think that the only reason he thought they knew each other were because they were both warlocks, and old.

"I know him," Emery said, "Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, about four hundred years old, throws parties at his house all the time, is open to new experiences despite most immortals eschewing away from them, and he does it so that he does not grow old and stone his heart from emotions, yet sometimes he feels time turning his heart cold, he has a cat named Chairman Meow, a poor cat that almost died once, and his father is—"

"Hey!" Magnus interrupted Emery's biography, "My cat didn't die. And easy with calling out demonic parents. The floor has ears, you know?"

"Doesn't the saying go, 'the walls have ears'?" Luke pointed out.

"In this case, when hell is under, it's the floor." Magnus said with his casual extravangtness, a sort of flourish that Emery lacked. The High Warlock looked to Emery again, "And again, I must ask, do I know you?"

"My name is Emery, I am a warlock as well, and I am helping out Clarissa." The warlock stated simply.

"Ah, see? Was that so hard?" Magnus responded to everyone. Luke shook his head to himself. Immortal beings, he didn't have the time for them. Quite literally. It all makes sense now, considering that I asked for Clary's help in the first place."

"So, you really don't know him?" Alec asked again, looking thoroughly disheveled. Luke had to admire Alec and his courage to be open with the Shadowhunter world about his sexuality, it was hard these days, with their numbers falling shorter than usual, so the fact that we were making our numbers shorter willingly didn't stick well with them. He was proud of Alec, for sticking up for what he wanted, unlike Luke, who had run away from home. Then again, his sister did sort of kick him out.

"Alec, just because we're both warlocks and old does not mean we know each other."

"I'm sorry," Alec said, "Don't warlock, like, have conferences every once in a while or something?"

"We do actually, they're called wars."

"Every time a warlock meets another, they fight?" Luke questioned.

"No, they're literally wars," Magnus explained, "Why do you think America liberated itself from Britain?"

"Tea?" Alec shrugged, "I don't know about mundane wars."

"Actually you're right. There were two warlock back then, one in Britain and another in America. They met in Boston, had some tea, well, let's just say they weren't too happy with each other."

Alec looked completely perplexed, and Luke walked into the kitchen, getting some coffee.

"So these two warlocks fought over bad tea?" Alec continued.

"No, the tea was splendid. The British warlock accidentally spat into the American's, and the American didn't want the tea anymore, and the British insisted he drink it, and it's all very nitty gritty, I'll tell you the details later." Magnus smiled, looking over at Emery, "Now what did you need?"

Clary POV

She banged her head on the sealed tight door, which wouldn't even budge with her inner Sebastian strength. Her restraints were long ago torn off, though it kind of hurt to tear that much metal off of your skin, and she had scratches everywhere, adding to the fake ones that Emery had created, but it had seemed better than waiting until someone could free her for her. She hadn't heard from Emery since the explosion like sound. Besides, her fake wounds were already fading. Even the limp was mostly gone.

Clary was not well at keeping track of time, she could have been in that room for a few minutes or a few hours, something about there being no window out of the room. Her forehead was throbbing and probably bright red from where she had knocked it against the sturdy tin door, but she didn't care about that.

Are you almost done yet? She called out to Emery, who had been silent for a little while.

Emery responded, I should be, now that Magnus is awake.

Is he alright? Clary asked him. She had seen the state of being that Magnus had been in out in Brocelind field, and she had been concerned for him.

A little tired and slightly confused as to where he is and who I am, but otherwise he's completely fine. He's helping me get the spells and stuff down.

That's great, she responded, anything I should know about?

Yes actually, he told her, Jace, Simon, Isabelle, Maia and Jordan are out being your distraction. They're laying waste to Alicante and making sure no one gets too near to the Gard.

I'm concerned with how okay you sound with all of this, Clary pointed out.

He ignored her though, Also, to help you get Maryse and Robert out, I've sent your mother and Chris, they should—

"You WHAT!?" Clary shouted into her cell, her voice bouncing back off of the thick walls. "I thought I told Simon to watch them!"

For a moment Clary thought Emery hadn't heard her, but he said, Now why does everyone get so loud and scared when I say this? Yes, I sent Jocelyn and Chris out to help you, they're on their way as we speak.

You sent my mother. My brother. They're coming. Together? She couldn't even think proper sentences.

I'm just quite finished with the wards around you cell, by the way, Emery announced, drawing her thoughts away from the image of Chris and Jocelyn within five feet of each other. In fact, your door should be ready to swing open in five…four…three…two…one.

Already? She thought mostly to herself, but didn't question it when she heard the bolt in the door slide open, and she had lunged herself at it, pushing it open with all her strength.

She had put a little too much strength into the shove. The door practically flew back, almost torn off of its hinges, slamming against the wall beside her. Clary winced as the sound of the heavy metal door slamming against the wall sounded in the dark hallways, but quickly dismissed it. Her feet raced through the halls, which were completely devoid of Shadowhunters, her coppery hair like a flag in the wind.

Jace and the others must be doing a pretty good job. She couldn't help but think, though, that while she was here, and the others were out there, that somewhere nearby, two of the most unlikely figures were coming to her aid.

Oh man, she thought to herself, forgetting that Emery could hear her, This is going to suck.

Chris POV

Jocelyn was the one that saw Brother Zachariah first, or at least, he said he was Brother Zachariah.

They were sneaking around the Gard now, having avoided the front entrance, looking for some other entrance point so that they wouldn't draw attention. None of them said that they should do this, they just kind of silently agreed by going around the back of the building, searching for a door to kick down, or a window to break in through.

They had reached some back steps that led to a wooden door, and Chris had climbed up them two at a time, his stele at hand to draw an Open rune in case it was locked, when Jocelyn whirled and demanded, "Who's there?"

Chris immediately drew out a blade, his eyes searching. Behind the Gard was a lot of trees, planted almost randomly everywhere, and beneath one, he was able to see the figure of a young man about his age. The young man stepped out from under the shadows, the light reflecting off of black hair and dark brown eyes. He was dressed in mundane clothes, a backpack strapped on. His face looked familiar, though he couldn't guess why.

It wasn't until Jocelyn spoke that he knew why, "Brother Zachariah? Is that you? What, what happened to you?"

Brother Zachariah? Where have I heard that name before?

"Yes, it's me, although, I don't think the title 'Brother' applies to me now. You could just call me Zachariah now." Zachariah spoke, and suddenly a different image overlaid the young man, as if there were two images in front of him. One was Zachariah, standing in his clothes and backpack. The other was the same young man, only his face was obscured in hood, parchment like robes covering him all over.

A memory flickered past his mind.

"Remarkable! Brother Zachariah you are quite impressive."

It had been the Counsel, the one that Clary had killed, the one that had sent Chris to hell, that had said that. But before he had been sent, Chris remembered that Jocelyn had begged for the poison in Clary's arm, when she had stopped Jocelyn from stabbing him from behind, and that had resulted in Brother Zachariah being the one to heal her.

But then immediately after he had healed her, Clary's rune had its twelfth turn, and Brother Zachariah had touched her then. Chris recalled seeing the Silent Brother be flung back, the pain of the rune, of which Chris knew well, stinging him.

However, never had he stopped to think how the Silent Brother had fared later on. He never thought about it at all. Until now…

"It was the rune, wasn't it?" Chris called out to him, still standing on the top steps.

Zachariah's dark eyes looked at him, taking in his green eyes without comment, and nodded, "Yes. It was your sister, Clarissa."

"Clary?" Jocelyn asked, looking between the two of them, "What does Clary have to do with any of this?"

Zachariah looked at her, "Remember the night of the trial? When I went to heal your daughter, and her strange rune took affect that night?"

Jocelyn, her eyes wide, nodded.

"Well, when it did, something strange and powerful, and painful, if I may add, ran through me. It was like an electric shock. It," he looked upward, towards the sky, "It healed something in me that I never thought would ever be fixed."

"Wait, are you talking about the strange glowing circle that lit around Clary during the trial?" Jocelyn asked, perplexed. Chris had forgotten that not everyone knew the secrets of Clary's rune yet. Only those that lived in the house know of it.

"Yeah," he answered Jocelyn without looking at her. Then towards Zachariah, he said, "That rune is supposed to change you into someone that you picture, that you imagine in your mind. I don't know why it affected you, considering that the rune wasn't even placed on you. Perhaps it was because of the excess power of the rune, it transferred into your own body when you touched Clary, but since you weren't picturing any particular person…"

"It changed me back to who I was originally supposed to be." Zachariah finished for him. Chris nodded. He'd come to the same conclusion.

Jocelyn looked between the two of them, then shook her head, as if this could wait. "One thing then, Zachariah. What are you doing here? If you're no longer a Silent Brother?"

"I'm here to let you two in," Zachariah indicated towards the wooden door.

"We could have opened it," Chris told him.

"Yes but there were guards here a few minutes ago, they're gone now." He didn't explain further more.

Jocelyn looked intently at the ex-Silent Brother, "But why are you doing this? Isn't this against the Clave? You're a Shadowhunter now, aren't you?"

If there was a person that managed to look both sad and content, it was Zachariah. He pulled on the collar of his sweater, where the edge of an old, faded parabatai rune was visible. "I've served the Clave for more than a hundred years, and I can't bear the thought of being a Shadowhunter now, not anymore. I resigned my duties to the Clave as of this morning." He looked at the two of them, "But not before I heard of a certain Clarissa Morgenstern who was about to captured by the Clave."

"So what?" Chris asked, "You stayed to help her?"

"Actually, yes." He nodded, "I watched Clary from the beginning, and there was always something that seemed odd whenever the Clave called her a 'cold, killing monster.' And especially after what her rune did to me, I feel like it is my duty to repay her. After all, I respect the Fairchilds." He smiled at Jocelyn. "Long ago, they took me in, and now it's time I do my part and pay up. This is my offer."

"Thank you, Zachariah," Jocelyn told him, "For everything. But where will you go? Now that you're not a Silent Brother?"

"I'm mortal now, that's true." He answered, his brown eyes looking old, but a glint of something young, a rekindled flame seemed to burn within him, "But there's someone out in this world that's waiting for me, that's expecting me very soon."

"I bet she'll be in for a real surprise when she sees you like this," Jocelyn smiled, and Zachariah looked it in surprise, and then smiled too, despite Chris not knowing who they were talking about. "I bet she'll be happy to see you."

"I hope you're right." Zachariah turned, and then, despite no longer being a Silent Brother, he made no sound as he disappeared under the trees again, going back into the mortal world.

As Chris watched him go, Jocelyn walking silently up the steps and easing the door, which was unlocked, open, Chris couldn't help but wonder.

If the huge shock from touching Clary had changed Zachariah into who he always meant to be, what about all those times when Chris had been shocked by them, only they weren't as powerful?

Could they be the reason as to why Chris had felt like he was changing along those two weeks with Clary?

It would be a miracle, if above all other things, Clary had done that too.

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They had practically flown the stairs, his hair flying back, Jocelyn not too far behind him. It surprised him how, despite her years absent from the Shadow World, she was still pretty nimble. They had just turned a corner, about to head down a dark passageway lit by the witchlight rune stone in his palm, when a voice practically screamed into their heads.

NO! DON'T GO THAT WAY! FOR THE LOVE OF GLITTER. STOP, RUNNING!

Chris almost slammed into the wall beside him, the witchlight falling to the ground, diming the hallway. He was on his knees, his hands over his ears in an attempt to stop running and to block the loud voice out from his head. He felt Jocelyn slid to a stop next to him, her hood fallen off, one hand over her right ear, the other holding her up. He heard her standing up immediately, though.

Chris's arm swept the ground before standing up again with the witchlight in his hand again, lighting up the dark hallway again.

"Magnus?" Jocelyn said into the darkness. Her hood had fallen off, her hair looking strangely penny like under the green light of the rune stone. "Was that you?"

Chris thought to himself, The warlock? The one that was exchanged for Clary? And immediately a voice responded in his mind.

Yes, I am that warlock. Magnus Bane. I'm also known as the High Warlock of Brooklyn, The savior of Little Italy, The Cat Whisperer, and the Woman that saved Lithuania, don't ask about the last one though, it's an incredibly awkward story that I'd prefer should never reach Alec's ears. Also, Jocelyn, I'm not there in person. I'm speaking through your mind. The warlock said all of this in such a rush Chris wondered if the warlock would be out of breath, but then he remembered that Magnus was thinking it, so he couldn't be.

"Magnus, since when can you mind-speak?" Jocelyn said out loud, still.

You don't need to talk, you can just think it and I'll listen, The warlock said, As for when I learned, about five minutes ago. Emery just taught me, so I'm sorry if I randomly sound like I'm shouting, or if my thoughts move incredibly fast. I don't really have the hang of this yet.

I could tell, Chris thought to him. Why'd you stop us for?

Oh right. You shouldn't go down that hallway, Magnus instructed them, as if telling them that the weather would be sunny, You might not come out the same way as you went in. I did something horrible wrong with a spell I was removing, and now the hallway you were just about to run through so casually is like a land mine. So if you could slowly back away about ten steps and go down the other hallway that you just passed, that would be great.

Jocelyn looked at Chris, and for the sake of all of them hearing what she would say, she said, "But that will take longer, Emery told us Maryse and Robert would be that way."

Would you both prefer to be the world's first Shadowhunter bunnies ever seen? I'm sure you two would look completely ferocious chewing at the Lightwood's bars like they're carrots, but I'm more of a cat person, so this hallway is off limits.

"Does Clary know?" Chris asked quickly.

Yes, yes, Emery will warn little Clary before she becomes a cute little orange rabbit. Now off with you two, I've got magic to do.

"How about we don't become bunnies?" Chris said casually, turning around and walking back up the hallway, spotting the other one that Magnus had mentioned and began to walk down it. The witchlight bobbed up and down with every step, illuminating cells that he passed.

Jocelyn followed, "I hope Emery does watch after Clary, although, if she does become a rabbit, I doubt the Clave will ever be able to find her then."

"Kind of hard to miss an orange rabbit though, and knowing Clary, she'd be the world's most stubborn rabbit. She'd probably chew runes into her celery." Chris joked, thinking about Clary, hopping around angrily in a cage. He almost laughed, but then he caught himself. He was talking to his mother. Having a normal conversation about nothing but his stubborn little sister whom they both loved so much. The one thing they had in common other than the blood that ran through his veins.

"Well, Clary's nothing but stubborn sometimes." Jocelyn added, and by the way she spoke, it appeared that she too noticed how normal their speech was.

"I know she is."

Jocelyn was quite for about ten more cells, and in that time Chris wondered why they weren't running anymore, when they had been in such a hurry only five minutes ago.

"What exactly did you and Clary do together?" Jocelyn asked out of the blue. Chris tightened his grip on the witchlight.

"Why do you ask?" he said peacefully.

"Well," she began, "Only a few months ago, neither of you even knew that the other existed. You two were on opposite sides of a battle, fighting each other, almost to the point of killing each other. But you wanted Clary to be with you, but what by the Angel did you think you two possibly had in common?"

So was this where he told Jocelyn that he loved Clary to the point where her lips drove him crazy and that the feel of her hair on his skin made him smile and that feeling her body pressed against him was like heaven? That the sound of her voice saying his name was like a choir of angels lulling him to sleep?

No. Chris might have been accused before of not knowing how human emotions and the human conscious worked, but even he knew that that wasn't what you said to your mother about her daughter.

So he started from the beginning.

"I asked her if she wanted to continue to be a Shadowhunter," he told her, "And when she said yes, I helped to train her. I can't claim that she's as good as she is now because of me, that's all on her, but I started her out. The house traveled, a lot, sometimes staying up to three days in one spot, sometimes only one night, but we would go somewhere to practically every single spot that the house would stop in."

He glanced at her, as if waiting for her to say something, but when she didn't he spoke, "We went on the Ferris Wheel at Chicago, ate at Shadow World restaurants in Saudi Arabia and Canada, messed around and hunted demons in the Caribbean's, went for a walk in a garden in Japan, we traveled all over the world, but I felt like we barely scratched the surface of what we could have seen. But sometimes we wouldn't even go anywhere. Sometimes we'd sit on the couch and watch TV, Clary would make popcorn, eat chips, and we'd just laze around all day on our own, just, just, hanging out. It was only in the evening, when Clary's rune would turn, that I had to take care of her, because it would hurt her. She'd scream and shake, because the rune was painful. But I didn't do that to her-"he said quickly before she accused him, "-she created that rune on her own. We were in a pinch with a demon in Chicago, and she created that rune, created her own poison, and yeah, she became like me. With that rune, she understood me, on her own…"

He didn't know why he was saying this, why he was even explaining himself to her, but it felt so right. Right to tell her this, right to explain himself and Clary to her. Chris thought that he didn't care what Jocelyn thought of him anymore. He didn't need her approval, he didn't. But Clary would want her to approve of him, to at least accept him, and that was all the push he needed to at least try.

"To tell you the truth, I never had a family. Valentine might have raised me, might have taught me what he did, made me his weapon, ready for the use, but he was never a father. When I was young, he would walk with me in the middle of the night in a massive forest, right before a thunderstorm. And when the first few drops fell, he left me in the woods, where there were demons. He left me to fend for myself in the shivering cold rain, wind blowing everything over, demons lurking in the shadows, left me to find my own way home. I was probably only about six, maybe seven years old. I can't remember."

"Do you know when your birthday is?" Jocelyn asked, her voice almost a whisper.

Chris almost stopped walking, and only hesitated shortly before saying, "No."

"You're almost two years older than Clary. You were born in late October, 1989."

"But that-" he stopped walking, "That passed already."

Jocelyn stopped just ahead of him, "You're eighteen."

"Why?" he looked at her, "Why are you telling me this?"

Jocelyn looked at him, in the light her eyes were eerie to look at, and he imagined his was too. "I don't know. I thought I wasn't able to give you much, not as a child. You at least should know when you were born. At least."

Chris watched her, "Just because I'm not a child, doesn't mean I don't need anything. Doesn't mean I don't need love, companionship, like any other person." He looked into the shadows, watching as the witchlight dimmed and brightened as he squeezed the stone. "And that's what Clary gave me."

He heard her stiffen, heard her open her mouth and close it again several times, and then, "Jonathan."

It wasn't his name any longer, but she didn't say it in a way to catch his attention. She said it as if it were his, as if he were a young child again, and she was trying to get him to look at him, a mother saying her child's name.

"Yes?"

"I-"

"Jocelyn?" A new voice penetrated the darkness, "What are you doing back here?"

"Maryse!" The strange new look that Chris had never seen before immediately evaporated as she quickly sprinted down the hallway, stopping in front of a dark cell, his witchlight barely lighting the bars in front of her. Chris felt the strange atmosphere that had developed a moment ago disintegrate, and for a second, he felt anger. Anger at whoever had just ruined whatever had been about to happen. Because something had been happening, at that moment, he felt like his life would change forever, that he and Jocelyn, could somehow, possibly, despite arguments, despite shouting at each other, love each other.

Like a mother and son should.

He let the anger go, though. There was no crying over what could have been. He walked over to stand a bit behind Jocelyn, raising his witchlight so that the light shone within the tiny cell. Two figures stood behind the bars, one with long, raven hair, streaked with gray, dressed in torn gear pants and a tight black cami. Maryse looked much like her daughter, only the blue eyes ruined the resemblance, and the way her mouth was pressed into a thin line gave her more of a sour look. Her husband, Robert, stood just beside her, yet slightly distanced. Chris remembered, long ago, hearing from Valentine, that Robert had had an affair with another woman, and the Lightwoods hadn't exactly been the same since then.

He could see that affair now, the way Robert stood slightly away from Maryse, as if ready to support her, but not completely willing to hold her up should she fall. As soon as Maryse's eyes adjusted to the light being shone in them, she gasped, and then she scowled, put one foot back as if to prepare herself from a blow, and practically hissed, "What is he doing here?"

Her hand pointed accused at him, and before he could say anything, Jocelyn said, "He's-"

"How did he get out?" Maryse said wildly, her eyes aflame, "I saw. I saw with my very eyes when they sent you to hell. How could you have possibly gotten out?"

Robert took a double take at Chris, as if his own eyes were tricking him. He didn't say anything, but the way his eyes lit up with anger and hatred were all Chris needed to know. He tried to say something, "Now's not the time to discuss this. We need to get you two out-"

"I'm not going anywhere with you! You murderer!" Maryse cried. Her voice echoed across the halls, the word murderer, murderer, murderer…slowly dying out. Chris felt something in his heart twist, something he always knew was there, but before had never paid it any attention. But now, it was like it had finally come to light, begging to be noticed.

Max Lightwood. The little boy from Alicante. The one who was wearing glasses, a toy soldier in his hand. Only about nine years old.

And Chris had killed him.

No, a voice in his mind said, Chris didn't kill him. Sebastian did.

Chris had changed, he knew he had. But how could he possibly explain this to the parents of the child that had dies under his hands?

"Maryse, Robert," Jocelyn said softly. Maryse looked like she was ready to crash through the bars and claw at Chris until his intestines spilled out with her bare hands, and despite the coldness she was radiating, he saw her fists shake at her sides. "Look at his eyes."

Why Jocelyn defended him instead of explained the whole situation, he didn't know, but what she said worked. Rather than see, he felt as their gazes looked up, looked beyond what he represented to them, what they saw as him, the monster, the killer of their child, and saw him, as heard as it was to do so, but they eventually did it. He heard a small gasp escape Robert, and Maryse, slowly, ever so slowly, uncurled her fists. Her lips stayed in a thin line, but at least she didn't want to kill him. Yet.

"Alright," Maryse said, and when her voice shook a little, she cleared it and said again, "Alright. But please tell me what's going on. I saw them take you and Luke, as well as Magnus, out of your cells. What happened?"

"I'll have to explain later," Jocelyn told her. Chris wondered if she and Maryse had been close to each other when they had been younger, during their Circle days, but then he answered his own question. They hadn't. They were as close as too mature adults could be, but they didn't look like child hood friends. "Right now, we might not have much time."

"Where's Clary?" Chris broke out suddenly. "She should be here by now."

"We saw her," Robert spoke for the first time. He almost sounded out of place, as if he was out of place amongst them, "She didn't exactly walk past us, but there was no mistake. They locked her in here."

"Yes but she should have broken out of her cell by now," Chris said absently, ignoring Maryse's raised eyebrows, wondering how on Earth someone could break out of these types of cells, and he quickly thought in his mind, Emery! Emery, where is Clary?

Um…give me a second. A click went off in his mind, making him like he was put on hold, which was probably the most annoying thing in the world, ever. He should know; he was the one who ordered all the stuff through a mundane telephone when Valentine wanted all that stuff in their apartment for Jocelyn. When Emery spoke again, he said, Alright, great niece coming in 3…2…1…

Chris was about to shout, Now's no time for games! When he heard the sound of shoes pounding against the cold floor, and a voice called, "Chris!"

She slid to a stop several feet in front of him, the light fully illuminating her, "Mom?" she questioned, looking at Jocelyn with a grimace, as if she knew her mother would be there, but had hoped that it wasn't true. He noticed that the magic Emery did on her so that she looked completely wrecked was running out, making her look only slightly disheveled and bruised. He was about to go up and hug her, or grab her hand, or something, he wasn't really sure, when Robert exclaimed, this time pointing his own finger childishly.

"Oh for the love of the Angel, will someone explain how you got back," he directed to Chris, "and how you possibly escaped! And why you're here in the first place!?"

Clary looked at him, one hand on her hip, the other pushing a curl behind her ear, "Rescue mission, duh. You'll see Isabelle and Alec in short while if everything works out. So if you two could please step back." She indicated with one hand for them to move, and extended the other to Chris, "Do you have a stele I could borrow?"

He took one from his weapons belt and placed it in her palm with question, from the corner of his eye he saw Jocelyn's hand also go to her pockets, but quickly dropped, and Clary promptly set to drawing a strength rune on both arms. Before anyone could do anything, she placed her hands on two bars, and wrenched them apart, a sick squealing noise coming from the metal as Clary broke the bars, giving enough room for Maryse and Robert to fit through. Chris could have laughed had he not been so astonished.

Robert stared wide eyed, "How did you-?"

"Inner-Sebastian," she said, "Now, I'd explain what that was and whatnot, but you'd think I'm crazy, and we really don't need a long story right now. So if you two could just come on out, we could get out of here."

Maryse and Robert looked wary at first, but then they quickly stepped out of the cell, coming into the hallway. Just when Robert came out from the cell, another loud bang, much like the one from before, sounded again, making the foundation shake.

"What was that?" Maryse asked, "It happened before."

"Probably Jace," Chris answered.

Maryse looked him square in the eye, "I swear, of you did anything to my kids, if you put them in danger-"

Clary said, "Just listen to Magnus explain," at the same time that Jocelyn said, "He didn't do anything to your kids Maryse, and they rushed into battle on their own." Mother and daughter looked at each other for a second, something passing between them, and then Clary turned back to Maryse, "Just listen to Magnus, he'll explain about Alec and Izzy."

"What do you mean by—" and then she froze, her words cut off midsentence, and the way both she and Robert seemed to stare into nothing like they were brain dead told Chris that Magnus was currently speaking in their mind. Chris wondered if that's how he looked whenever Emery and Magnus spoke into his. He hoped not.

Meanwhile, Emery popped back in, and the way Clary and Jocelyn stared at the ground at their feet told him they could hear him too.

Guys, I love listening to you all talk to one another and such, and strangely, he really did sound like he was enjoying it, But while the others get closer to the Gard, so do the Clave. Emery sounded in their minds.

"Got it, Emery," Clary said, for the sake of everyone hearing her. "So, what? Come back the way we came in?"

"In that case, the exit is this way," Chris indicated with a nod of his head, and Clary immediately started heading that way, Chris beside her. Jocelyn, after looking at Maryse and Robert, followed, the other two behind her.

Clary continued talking while they jogged down the halls, "Sorry about taking a while longer, Emery only recently undid my cell, and I had to take a detour, considering Magnus messed up some spell so I had to go around another way."

"Who is Emery?" Maryse asked.

"Emery is another warlock that we befriended," she answered, "He also said that the Clave is a lot closer than we may like. I don't know if we'll be able to sneak past them without them noticing us."

"You think we might encounter them?" Jocelyn questioned.

Clary took a moment before responding. Chris didn't know if it was from her mother speaking to her, or because she really didn't know. Either way, after turning down a hallway, she responded, "There's a high possibility. With all of us together, it's sort of hard to not recognize us."

"We might have to fight them." Chris announced, and Clary nodded in confirmation.

"I won't fight them," Maryse asserted. "I may never be a Shadowhunter ever again, I may never be able to show my face in the Shadow World for a long, long time, but I won't fight against them. I refuse to."

Chris was about to say something, about how she would rather stay down here in her cell and rot until she was nothing but a skeleton, because if she did then she could just turn around right then and there, but he was glad Clary said something else before he did. Instead of immediately snapping at them like she was about to, she flipped herself around, jogging backwards, and had a smirk on her face, "Don't worry, we've got a nice, big house for you to hide your face for as long as you need to."

They shortly came before the steps that he and Jocelyn had entered in through, and Clary stopped before them, holding up the stele Chris had given her. Her face was all seriousness, none of the smirking, playfulness that she displayed back near the cells.

"I actually have a choice for you guys." She told Maryse and Robert, and Jocelyn, strangely, "And it's a choice. You decide whether you want it or not."

"What is it?" Robert demanded, none too softly.

Instead of answering, Clary showed everyone her wrist, and Chris immediately thought, That's where her rune used to be. The skin was all white now, smooth except for the scars that marked the used of runes. But as Chris watched, a rune came to on her skin, and he recognized it. It was the completed rune, all twelve rotations, completely etched out on her skin.

He deciphered the letter S on it, written in some old looking scrawl, when Clary put her wrist down, the rune gone from sight. She made eye contact with him, the corner of her mouth rising a bit, like a hidden secret between the two of them, before she turned back to the adults, who were watching intently.

"I honestly don't think you all will be able to show your faces." She held up her stele, "So, who wants to go first?"

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The stele Chris had lent Clary broke after the third use, for unexplainable reasons. At least it meant Chris didn't have to decide whether or not he wanted the rune drawn on him as well. Sadly, and stupidly, he didn't have any other steles on him.

Before that, it only took Clary a few short moments to explain the process of how the rune worked. She made extra care to explain the consequences of the rune, though, explaining how the pain would be extraordinary.

"It's not permanent though," she told them, "After twelve days, you get to choose whether you want to stay yourself, or the person you've imagined becoming."

"What happens if you choose to be them?" Jocelyn asked.

"I don't know," Clary said honestly, "I've never done that."

It amazed Chris how this was all news to him. He never did learn the end results of Clary's rune, didn't know that she could harness his powers still, didn't know that she could turn it on and off like a switch. He didn't know she'd drawn the rune on twice more. It was no wonder she had the power to bend metal. Then again, so did Chris. Unless he was no longer demonic. Was he?

That didn't matter then though, because he was too focused on peering out of back doorway of the Gard in which they saw Zachariah. The old Shadowhunter was gone, off to reclaim his part of the world, his part of the past, and the path before him and the area around them seemed devoid of people as well.

Clary was peering over his shoulder, his body blocking the exit. "Is it clear?"

He turned his eyes into every spot her could see from where he was standing before nodding. "Yeah, the others did their job of getting people away from here very well. Although I thought they were going to meet us here."

He stepped out of the doorway, coming out into the light. Clary stepped beside him, saying, "That wouldn't have been very good, considering they probably had a lot of people on their backs. I hope they're alright."

"First things first," he told her, walking down the steps that led to the door, "Let's make sure we can get out of here safe and sound."

He and Clary stopped at the bottom of the steps, looking upwards towards the open doorway, where you couldn't see past the shadows. Clary called up to the door, "You can come out."

Out stepped three people that no one from the Clave would recognize as Maryse, Robert, or Jocelyn. The three of them, after contemplation, had agreed to get Clary's rune drawn on them, despite the consequences of it. Chris was completely surprised that they all agreed to it, considering that Clary had come up with the idea out of the blue, but he didn't show it as he watched Clary push the stele to their arms, watching the metamorphosis happen.

Maryse had appeared to have shrunk half a foot, her hair was dark blonde, barely meeting her shoulders, dark brown eyes looking sharply at them. Robert had gone bald, his shoulders were broader, stretching hid clothes along his back, and his eyes were a strange gray color. Jocelyn had grown taller, and for some reason, her appearance looked, familiar, as if he'd seen the person she thought of before, but couldn't remember when or where. Her caramel brown hair fell in deep, luscious curls, ever more so than before, where they were just regular ringlets. Her posture was perfect, and the way she carried herself suggested not just confidence, but almost royalty. Her chin tilted upwards, and her eyes were coppery, like new pennies.

She struck something deep within him, like he should know who she was impersonating, but he just couldn't. What's more, how many people could he know that Jocelyn also knew?

He glanced over at Clary, watching to see if she were experiencing déjà vu as well, but she didn't display a bit of it, her eyes looking at all the details of the three strangers before them. She didn't see it like he did.

Oh what does it matter? He thought as he turned away from the three, looking out into the streets of Alicante, Not like it's important or anything.

Even though he hadn't done a very good job convincing himself of that, a sound in the day quickly made his thoughts stray away from the concern. A wolf's howl echoed in the air, and by the tone of it, he guessed it was Maia.

The sharp air around Clary seemed to reflect his thoughts, for when they met each other's gazes, they both nodded. They couldn't stand around anymore. They had to leave now.

Not a moment later, Magnus spoke in their minds, You guys, you know, the Clave, the one's that want you two dead? Yeah, they're a little suspicious now.

"Say no more, Magnus, we've got it," Chris drew a blade from his belt, just in case, before turning back to the group at large, "We've got to go, now."

Blonde Maryse raised an eyebrow at him, not liking to be ordered, "Go where, exactly?"

Clary responded, plucking at a piece of loose string at the hem of her shirt, the glamour that made her look hurt now completely gone, "To the house. Just beyond the first trees entering Brocelind forest is a Portal, and that will lead you there. Alec and Magnus should be there. Hopefully the others get there soon."

Her face looked contemplative, and she stared at the ground several feet in front of her, deep in thought.

"What's wrong?" Bald Robert asked, "Is there a problem? Has Magnus said anything only to you?"

"No," she shook her head, "I was just thinking how I really wish I had a stele on me now. I'd feel better with one." She glared at Chris, "How could you only have one stele?"

Chris raised an eyebrow, "Oh, so now I'm in charge of holding stock?"

"You should have been prepared."

"It was a rush job, I didn't have time to prepare."

"No excuses."

"I have a stele." Brunette Jocelyn suddenly spoke. Even her voice sounded more regal, "Or at least, I should have one."

She patted around her pockets, searching quickly, before scowling, "I must have dropped it back in there when Magnus shouted in our ears."

"When did you get the time to get a stele?" Chris questioned her.

"Emery gave it to me."

"No, he gave you a blade." He remembered.

"Well he also gave me a stele, it was glamoured." She said pointedly. Chris felt mildly offended that Emery would do that, as if he weren't wary of his mother enough, but he decided to drop it.

"I'll be right back," she dashed into the Gard again, ignoring Clary as she called out to her, "Wait! You don't have to-" but she was already gone, having scooped up where Chris had dropped his witchlight runestone.

In a way, Chris understood Jocelyn's need to do this, to do something to please Clary. Jocelyn thought Clary would never forgive her ever again, and Clary thought that too, judging by the way they both walked on tiptoes around each other, and it would take some pushing until they both finally came to a truce. They thought the other one hated the other, and Chris could see why Jocelyn was trying.

Clary blew a strand of hair nervously away from her forehead, one hand patting the pocket where she had stashed the broken stele into. She said at the time that she wanted to someone to check it out, see why the stele broke, but Chris thought it was more just to have something to hold.

"We can't just stand here," he finally broke out, hardly standing the silence. "Someone's bound to get here."

"We can't just leave her!" Clary burst out.

"Well I agree with him," Bald Robert said, not even bothering to look at Chris, "I don't like being here in the open."

"Not like anyone's going to recognize you." Clary almost spat, "If you really want to leave, then by all means, do. If you get lost, ask Magnus in your mind."

Bald Robert didn't even pause to think about it. He sprinted away from them, only sparing a split second to look back at Blonde Maryse before continuing on his way. Blonde Maryse didn't leave immediately. She looked at Clary, long and hard, long enough to make anyone squirm, but Clary stood stone still, matching Maryse's glare.

"Thank you," was all she said to her, before turning her attention to Chris. Clary looked at the two of them, waiting. He expected some more nasty comments, something about how she wouldn't rest until she killed him, but she only smirked before joining her husband off in the distance. They were soon out of sight, turning into the streets of Alicante.

"What was that all about?" Clary said as soon as they were gone. "I swore, for a second I thought she'd claw your brains out."

"Yeah, and I saw how you just stopped to stare. Thanks for having my back." He teased.

"I would have stopped her!" she replied, "After she gave you good punch, I mean."

"What?"

"You deserve it." She smiled, her hands behind her back.

"For what, exactly?" he tilted his head over hers, so that his head blocked the son from her face.

"Because you're a bad boy, that's why," she grinned. "Bad, bad Chris. I should have a spray bottle to spray water at you with."

"Oh, so now I'm a dog," he pressed his forehead against hers.

"A dog that needs to be punished," Clary agreed.

"And what sort of punishment is this dog going to get?" Chris was all smirk now.

Clary bit her lip, in thought, and the sight made him wish he could take her in his arms already, but something told him that he'd have to wait. Not until she gave the green light. She finally spoke, "No treats."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

She leaned up even further, on her tiptoes, her lips so close he almost gasped. She whispered, "No kisses."

"Well it's too bad I'm bad, right? That means I disobey." Her eyes widened as he practically took his lips in for his own, almost biting her lower lip in the process, they still tasted like the coffee she had earlier today. Clary smacked his arm in protest, her words dying out in the kiss, but she quickly put her hands on his shoulders and steadied herself under him.

He was reclaiming what should have happened in breakfast, he knew that much, and he got caught up the kiss, so much that his hands were going for her shirt before he realized it. Clary must have much better self-control than him, because she managed to break away, her cheeks flushed, breathing hard.

"Well," he panted hard as well, "I got all the pancake batter off."

Clary, despite everything, rolled her eyes, "I do need a spray bottle around you. I should go buy one."

"AND I SHOULD UNBIRTH BOTH OF YOU!"

Never, not even in hell or when he was locked in the whip room when he was young with Valentine, had Chris ever felt so mortally terrified of a living being. At that moment, he would have rather had his skin peeled off, or melted off, or his eyes plunged out by Maryse, or Isabelle, or anyone else. He couldn't explain this terror, he's never been scared of anyone, not ever before, yet somehow, he did now. He wanted to run, to flee, to escape. But his traitorous legs were frozen, not even letting him step away from Clary as Jocelyn stared agape at both of them. Her hands tightened against the stele that was held in her hand so hard, that he wondered if it would break too.

Somehow, the copper eyes she imitated made her look even fiercer, more dangerous, so much so that he questioned for a brief second if she really could unbirth them. Lilith took away his demon eyes, what could Jocelyn do?

"Joce-Mom," Clary tried to speak, but when those coppery eyes settled on her, she squeaked like a mouse, something he was sure Clary never did, and shut up, hastily stepping about a whole meter away from him. Oh yeah. They'd still been holding onto each other.

His hand involuntarily wiped against his lips, and Jocelyn's nostrils flared. She looked like a bull ready to charge.

"I cannot believe this," she started out, her voice a harsh whisper, indicating that her voice was about to get very loud very soon. "I. Can't. Believe. This."

Chris was so surprised that all he managed to think was, Great! Then don't believe it. Forget you saw any of that.

Only when Clary's eyes widened at him did he realized that he actually had said it, not only thought it. Crap. Jocelyn's footstep echoed as she climbed down the steps.

Nice job, nephew, Emery spoke in his mind.

Do something! He made sure to think it this time.

Emery –that bastard!- didn't respond anymore, and Chris was left to face Jocelyn's wrath alone.

"I was starting to believe you too," Jocelyn's voice was already rising, her regal-ness slipping away, "For a split second back there, I had the stupid idea that I could trust you."

Chris felt a lump in his throat where his voice used to be, and he couldn't understand why he was so terrified. Was it because, for a moment, he almost had a mother? The one he never thought he'd have? Was it because for an instant, that possibility had been within reach, and was now probably ruined forever?

It certainly felt that way.

"Is this what you've been doing this whole goddamned time!" she was plain out shrieking now, the stele in her hand snapped. "Is this what you meant when you said Clary understood you better than anyone else!?"

Clary looked absolutely mortified, and for once, she fit her size. Clary's personality always seemed too big for her, her spirit needing something bigger to contain her. But now, she looked so small, so small, and afraid. Something in her eyes told him this was something she'd been dreading for a long time, and he understood, he understood her completely.

Although, while his heart pounded a mile a minute, his chest seemed less heavy. He couldn't explain why, but the fact that Jocelyn knew, that she now knew, was almost like relief. At least now he didn't have to worry about telling her.

"Mom," Clary begged, both palms toward Jocelyn as if she were surrendering, "Mom please, Shhhh."

Jocelyn was indeed getting loud, she'd draw attention soon, but Clary's plead only frenzied Jocelyn, who was now only feet from them, even more, "Don't you dare SHHH me! Do you hear me Clarissa Adele! Don't you dare!"

"Mom! Now's not the time!" Clary spoke up. She seemed to be finally getting over her shell shock, her common sense coming out, "Someone will hear you!"

"Does it look like I care?!" their mother yelled, "I go inside for not even five minutes, and when I come back out I see you two, my two children-"

As much as I love family disputes, I agree with Clary. Now is not the time, Chris almost sank with relief as Emery came back, his voice as amused as ever. Jocelyn, I know how much of a shock this must be to you, but don't you think you should ground them AFTER you all get out of Alicante?

"Emery," Jocelyn breathed deeply, "Please tell me that you didn't know about this."

Chris felt Clary jerk beside him. Surely she hadn't told him just exactly what they'd done together? Half of Chris couldn't care less whether or not the warlock knew, yet the other half was slightly unsettled by it. Emery was good at guessing human intentions, had he guessed this?

Know about what? That your daughter's boyfriend is her brother? No, now that I think about it no one told me about that. Emery said, and Clary looked like she was about to pass out, while Chris felt slightly amused, his lips tugging at the word boyfriend.

Jocelyn looked like she would likely explode from rage and disgust, but, surprisingly, she calmed. Chris didn't know if Emery was sprinkling some calming spell all over her, but he was glad she at least didn't look like she'd unbirth any of them.

"Well?" she barked, looking at her two children. Clary was staring at her mother in mix surprise and apprehension. "Let's go!"

Without comment, the three of them dashed through the streets of Alicante, Jocelyn taking the same route that she and Chris had used to enter the City of Glass. Chris felt Clary running right beside her, her hand only inches from his. He resisted the urge to take her palm in his, wary of the fact that Jocelyn was right in front of them, so he fisted his hand and ran on.

Alicante was a blur as they ran. The old fashioned, beautiful houses soon made way for the destruction that must have been caused when Jace and the others ran in, carnage and debris everywhere. He saw Clary looking, her wide emerald eyes shocked to see the city destroyed, and he knew despite all her strong words against the Clave, she felt sorry for having to do this to the people of Alicante. And Chris admired her pushing forward anyway.

The sun was setting as they ran past the opening in the ward and sprinted across Brocelind Field, the sky lighting up in bursts or orange, blue, purple, red and orange. Maybe it was Clary's influence, but the sunset's colors now looked more, profound. Or maybe it was because he's missed out on three months of sunsets in hell.

Guys hurry up! Magnus shouted in their minds, This Portal won't stay open forever!

"Too bad we don't have a stele!" Chris purposefully shouted forward, ignoring the fact that he probably shouldn't have accused Jocelyn like that right now, but it was true, she had broken their only stele in her wrath-rage.

The tree line leading into Brocelind forest zoomed into view, and soon, Chris was swiping at branches, ducking under pine needles and jumping over roots.

"Over there!" Clary shouted, her hand pointing ahead.

Right ahead of them swirled the contents of the Portal, large and door-like, coming out of a large tree trunk.

"Has everyone gotten here yet?" Jocelyn asked.

"Emery?" Clary asked, and Emery promptly answered.

Isabelle, Simon, Maia and Jordan jumped through just a few minutes ago, Robert and Maryse met up with them and jumped with them, but, hey, has anyone seen the gold headed one? Emery brought up.

"You mean he's not here yet!?" Clary worried. "You think his arm caused him any trouble?"

No, I would know if it were that, Emery assured them.

"Can you contact him and tell him to get here ASAP?" Clary asked. Chris felt something in his stomach tighten from the worry and concern for Jace in her voice. He didn't know why, it just didn't feel right for Clary to be so worried for Jace. He didn't like it.

He's on his way, Emery told them seconds later. He thought he could stop and wait for you guys, but you were all already here. He should be here soon, but I don't know if he'll make it in time for the Portal…

"He'll make it!" Clary assured them, but the way she said it was almost like she was trying to convince herself as well, "I'll wait for him here until he gets here."

Something twisted in his gut again. Now's not the time to be jealous! He thought tom himself, but even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't it. That wasn't jealousy. "I'll stay here with you." He said to try to ignore the unpleasantness.

Jocelyn looked uneasy. "I'll stay here with the two of you as well."

Clary snapped, taking Chris aback, "By the Angel Mom! What? Do you think that just because you leave we're going to have a make-out session or something? That the minute you look away we'll eat each other's faces? What the hell Mom! Why can't you just be happy? Why can't you just accept us?! Your son is back! Your daughter is alive! Why do you think that just because everything isn't like the normal mundane world you set up for me as a child that everything is wrong!?"

Jocelyn's copper eyes widened, her elegant hands coming up to her mouth, "Clary-"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Clary cried out, tears in her eyes, but they wouldn't slip out. She was trying so hard, and her breath panted out in white clouds in the cold air, "I'm sorry for ruining everything, I'm sorry for disappointing you, I'm sorry for bringing you into this mess, I'm sorry for bringing back every bad memory of the past that exists and being your worst nightmare since Valentine, I'm sorry," she exhaled on the last two words, sucking in a big breath, then exhaling again. Her cheeks were colored, and her fingers were ghostly pale as she shoved her hand through her hair.

"I guess," she continued, "I just, I can't." she looked Jocelyn straight in the eyes, and Chris had the feeling that he shouldn't have been there, that this was something he shouldn't be intruding on. "I came here to get you out, because I felt bad that I dragged you into this, that I dragged you down with me, that I put you through this, but I can't face you like I used to until you accept me, accept us-" she indicated towards Chris"—and until then, maybe it's best if you just go."

Clary pointed to the Portal, her chest heaving. Jocelyn blinked, once, twice, three times. Then she looked at Clary, not glared, not in awe, but looked at her, as if checking to see if she had dirt on her clothes.

"I was never disappointed in you," Jocelyn said. "I was never mad at you."

"Then why-?" Clary started but Jocelyn held up a hand.

"Whenever I saw you, doing what you were doing, I didn't see you. I saw myself. I realize that now. I saw me, when I was your age, doing the same mistakes I did all those years ago. I was so, so scared that you'd do the same, that we were so alike that you'd make the exact same mistakes I made." She shrugged, "But I'm wrong, because no matter how much you look like me, you're so much not like me at all that it shocks me that you're my daughter."

"You want me to trust you," Jocelyn said, "I'll give you one try. This last one. I hope that when I see you on the other side of this Portal, I won't regret it." She looked at Chris, with the exact same expression as she was giving Clary, a mother looking over her children. That goes to you too, her look said.

Then Jocelyn went through the Portal.

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Jace almost ran right past them as he sprinted through the trees, his eyes locked on the Portal, his left arm resembling a glow stick, shining witchlight green through the branches, until Clary had to jump in front of him, her bright red hair probably looking like a big STOP sign to him.

"Where have you been?" she questioned him.

"I thought you were still over there!" Jace explained, pointing back towards Alicante.

"Well, we're not. Are you alright? Are you injured?" her eyes searched him, and while Chris knew that she was looking for major injuries, he felt like a third wheel.

He practically stepped right in between them, "Okay, are we going to go or-" his stomach gave a wild lurch, not painful, but not very comfortable either. Like the way your insides feel like someone yanked at them when you're on a rollercoaster.

"Chris? Chris?" he registered Clary's voice calling to him, and he quickly shook her off.

"We should go," he said, almost in a frenzy, "We should go. Right now."

He had a bad, sinking feeling starting in his chest.

Clary didn't stop to hesitate. She hooked her arms through both Chris's and Jace's, Chris on her right, Jace on her left, so that she was holding onto Jace's good arm, and she tugged the two of them along, breaking through the Portal just before it closed on the three of them.

After the dizzying, molecule swishing feeling of traveling via Portal ended, Chris landed on his feet, his knees bent, his eyes immediately looking for the others.

"We made it!" Clary pounced on him from behind, her arms around his neck, "We made it just in time! And we got everyone out!"

Chris couldn't help but grin, grabbing her wrists and spinning her around. Jace was only a few feet away, and he had a sour look on his face, watching them, and Chris felt like he won a small battle, but then Jace's face slackened, confusement, and then slight horror settling in.

"Hey, Jace," Clary said, noticing Jace's mood change, "What's wrong?"

Jace gulped visibly, "I hate to ruin your sweet sibling moment, but, umm…." His eyes looked around them again, as if double checking something.

"Umm…Where's the house?"

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Clary POV

The house had chosen then of all moments to disappear on them. With everyone they knew inside, because when Clary looked around the landscape, there was not a soul to be found.

Chris almost banged his forehead on the ground, "I should have known!"

"How would you know?" Jace asked.

Clary's brother ran his hand through his pale hair, "I was getting this weird feeling earlier, a lurching feeling, like something was wrong. I should have recognized it."

"I didn't know you knew when the house leaves," Clary said, suspiciously.

"Not all the time, but I did put up a lot of the spells and wards that surround the house in the first place. You could that the house and I-"

"Were connected?" Clary frowned. "You've never mentioned this before."

"That's because I was always near the house whenever it changed locations, not in a whole different country." He explained.

"Well then," Clary huffed, placing her hands on her hips, her eyes staring off into the horizon. She closed her eyes, trying to remember where the mirror had said the house had been in that morning. Well then.

They couldn't even contact Emery or Magnus, because surely the change in locations of the house made the mind connection break. None of them had phones, nor provisions.

This was the way it was going to be? Wasn't it? Hiding out, living on the road, being refugees. Why not start now?

Another voice in her head said, But you never got to see your Mom on the other side of the Portal, and she quickly shook that voice away. If she thought of Jocelyn now, she'd never be able to stop, and she'd probably drop to the ground shivering.

In fact, she was shivering. She was only wearing a T-Shirt and upon seeing her, Chris shrugged off his jacket, filling her in his warmth.

"Well," she said aloud, "I have no idea where we are now, but, isn't this what we wanted?"

"To be fugitives?" Chris asked her, "That's what you said. And I'll follow you wherever you want to go."

"Alright," she said, "Alright. First things first, we get a phone, or some sort of cell use, and contact Simon or Magnus, or anyone we can get a hold of." She looked at Jace, "That way Jace can go back with his family, and then we can get back to being runaway fugitives."

"Wait, what do you mean send me back?" Jace looked at her.

"Back to the house," she said to him, wondering if she hadn't been clear, and then dismissing that thought. "That house belongs to the Lightwoods now, that's your house now. You shouldn't have to come with us if you've got somewhere to live."

"Exactly." He said, making Clary very confused, so he clarified, "It's a Lightwood house."

"Yeah, and you're Jace Lightwood," Clary spoke defensively.

"Well, I used to be."

"By the Angel Jace I am not Emery I cannot read your mind spit it out," she said in one full sentence without pausing.

"I spent two months in Idris after the first time you escaped," he said, "And, I haven't told anyone yet, but in that time, I requested that I wanted to take on the name Herondale."

"So," Clary blinked, "So you're-"

"Jace Herondale. My name is Jace Herondale, so as you can see, I don't have a home in that house." He almost smirked at this. Like he was glad he didn't have to live there.

"But Maryse and Robert aren't going to kick you out just because you changed your last name. They'd still take you in if you asked." Clary specified.

"You say that as if you want me to leave." He smiled, "What if I don't want to go with them?"

Clary wrapped her arms around herself, her chin on her collarbone. Jace wanted to stay with her, to stay with them. He didn't want to leave. Clary didn't know how to feel about that. On one part, she was perfectly elated, on the other though, she felt Chris staring behind her, his gaze burning a hole into the back of her head.

"But-"one last protest bubbled forth, "But what about the Lightwoods? They're your family, and Alec, he's your parabatai."

His smile fell off when she said that, and he looked down before looking back up at her, "They'll understand, well, I hope Maryse and Robert do, but Izzy will be okay with it, as for Alec, well, he won't be too mad about it. Maybe we should call them, explain things."

Say goodbyes

He hadn't said that, but she knew he was thinking it. They all needed some goodbyes.

"Okay," she said quietly, and then she cleared her throat, and looked up, bringing up her confidence, "Okay. Okay, this is okay. This is completely fine."

She turned to look to Chris and Jace together, taking the two boys in. Clary beamed at both of them, trying to be upbeat, and finding that it wasn't so hard.

"We say our goodbye, but not,-"she held up a finger, "-forever. These are only temporary goodbyes. We'll see everyone again one day, and who knows, we can keep in touch with everyone, I mean come on, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, email, texting, and I know we don't have those resources on us now but it shouldn't be too hard. We may just be a trio of teenagers, but surely we can scrape up something."

"You're wrong," Chris said, and before Clary could come up with anything about why he was being so negative, he said, "We're not just teenagers. We're Shadowhunters, we bare the Marks of the Angel himself, and we're fighters. This won't stop us, by hell I'll let this stop us. We'll share this struggle together." He looked to Chris, an evil, menacing grin growing on his face, "Even if it means you have to come along like a duck following its mother."

Jace gasped in horror, "Did you just call me a duck? Never in my whole life have I ever been so insulted!"

Chris rolled his eyes, and Clary felt an excited flower bloom in her chest, hope, possibility, that the three of them could really live together in harmony. Together, her own insecurities and uncertainties be damned.

"Of course," Chris spoke again, "If you think you'll be winning Clary back, you've got another thing coming. Clary and I have a special bond, and we're together. You know, a while ago we said we were dating."

Clary's little excitement flower was quickly shot by lightning and run over by a bulldozer. Her happy grin was literally frozen onto her face as cold horror crept up her body.

Jace smiled wickedly, making Clary feel strange, "Well, I hope you're ready for a fight, because I'm not about to become a third wheel, because whether you like it or not, Clary and I actually were dating, up to the point where you whisked her off. I think I'll take my spot back now, thanks for keeping it warm for me."

"Move your feet lose your seat." Chris said in rebuttal.

"Now that was childish." Jace said.

"So? Clary is my sister, so maybe I should pick who she gets to be with," Chris frowned.

"Now wait a moment, I think that's my choice," but Clary's argument got lost as Jace spoke up again.

"Well I was with her first."

"Now who's being childish?"

"I'm just going to start walking that way, maybe I'll come along a city," Clary mumbled, walking away from the two of them, turning on her inner Sebastian in case it recognized something.

Jace and Chris's voice were lost for a second, until they noticed she had walked off, and they quickly chased after her, settling themselves on either side of her, Jace on her left, Chris on her right.

Despite everything, including the fact that they had nowhere to go, no money, no food, no clothes, or means to contact anyone, and had no idea where they were and that Chris and Jace were probably going to bicker along the whole way, Clary smiled.

She could see themselves, as if she were watching them from afar. Two boys, practically men. Chris and Jace, people she loved with all of her heart, she'd never be able to choose between them. Jace was her first love, someone she had loved almost instantly, learning all sorts of lessons; he had helped meld her heart. Chris, he had snuck his way in, found a home for himself, and helped her heart grow. Clary had learned to love him, and there was absolutely no way she could ever un-love him. Whether brother or demon or whatever, she'd care for him, even if she had to face everything she did all over again.

And then there was her.

It's hard to see yourself grow when you can't really see yourself, but Clary knew she had grown. She had changed, and she knew she had still had a lot to learn, you could never stop learning. She's grown in strength, knowledge, and in body. And in love.

There were angels, and there were demons. Angels balanced demons, just as Clary did with Chris. She balanced him just as he did her. But angels couldn't handle every demon, that's what Shadowhunters were for.

There are angels. There is Clary.

There are demons. There is Chris.

And then there are Shadowhunters, and Jace was standing right beside her, fighting for what she couldn't.

Standing at the start of the end and the beginning, Clary remembered the offer that Sebastian had given her in the face of the burning Institute.

Come with me, he had said.

He looked at her now, and even though Jace was there, he lowered his lips to her temple, kissing her where her pulse rate ran through evenly.

"Yes," she whispered, "I'll go with you."

Chris looked at her funny, "What?"

Clary smiled, not only at him, but at Jace too.

"You know, there are a lot of things I want to do in my life," she said to the two of them.

"Like what?" both of them asked.

Clary grinned, "I don't know yet!"

"Well then," Chris said, "Let's find out."

He broke away from them, sprinting forward, causing Clary to shout, "Wait up!"

She and Jace raced after him, laughing along the way.

"Is this any way you pictured it would be?" Jace asked her.

Clary shook her head, "No. It's not. It's completely twisted and different and not anything like I would've imagined."

"And?"

She burst into a full run, sprinting way ahead of Chris, before turning around and flinging her arms wide. This was different, this was nonsense, this had no meaning, no answer, no certainty. She never imagined her life would be like this, this unknown, un-plotted. And it, it was just…

"And it's just perfect!"

Will:*from up in heaven* I ship them I ship the three of them so much, especially after Jace took up the Herondale name, thank the Angel, I thought my lineage was done for.

Lacie: *it is late at night and Clary and Chris are at home sleeping* I never thought you'd actually come over to my fanfic show.

Will: I had to sometime, especially since this is the end, isn't it?

Lacie: It's almost. I need an epilogue, and I need to ask the readers what loose ends they need me to tie up, what things they want me to write about before this is all over.

Will: that would be best, considering you don't want any angry fans

Lacie: Not to mention that I feel like I'm ending this abruptly.

Will: Not at all. I have to thank you for what you did to Jem. It's time he he took what should have been his and have his happiness along side Tessa.

Lacie: I completely agree.

Will: You know what I've been thinking?

Lacie: What?

Will: That this whole fanfic of yours is just your version of City of Heavenly Fire.

Lacie: O-O HOLY FRICKIN SHOOT

Will: I don't understand, is that the new modern slang? Is it a species of bamboo?

Lacie: IT'S ME FREAKING OUT OMG! I have to tell my readers! This fanfic is over 700 pages long! Just like COHF! And it ends at around the same time as COHF! OMG I wrote my own ending of TMI!

Will: Except one part I really dislike

Lacie: Which?

Will: *starts really quiet but gets really loud* How dare you call my great great idk how many greats grandson a DUCK. By all the angels! Really?! A DUCK? How dare YOU

Lacie: *sighs* Herondales…

Will: I also hate that you took forever to update *pouts* I've been waiting, that's why I came down here. I thought you died

Lacie: *stammers* You've- you've been reading my fanfic?

Will: Of course! Everyone does. Though you really should have included me more. And Tessa. Where is she? Wait, can't she come in here? Isn't that the magic of this place?

Lacie: That's not really how it works-

Will: *starts shouting* TESSA! TESSA! CAN YOU HEAR ME? ARE YOU IN THIS MAGIC RECOBBLING ROOM TOO?

Lacie: It's recording room not recobbling

Will: I think I heard her! I heard a bell!

Lacie: That was my clock, saying it's way past midnight and that I need sleep. Goodbye William. Thank you for being my support, and let me have you know, I love you much more than Jace.

Will: Of course you do, I'm William Herondale :D

Lacie: Yes you are!

ALWAYS LOVE WILLIAM HERONDALE AWLAYS AND FOREVER.

Lacie: Okay this is really me. I was serious, Epilogue of The Angel to Balance the Demon coming soon, and depending on how much stuff I may put, there may be an Epilogue Part 2. As always, I hope to see you soon :D