Hey everyone! Thanks so much to those of you who left reviews last chapter. I really appreciate it! I truly love hearing your feedback. :)

Anyway, so here is chapter 7, and after this, we will be ALL CAUGHT UP! So I will actually be writing the chapters following this one, as opposed to just revising/editing... Yay! (Okay, maybe that isn't very exciting for you, but I think it's pretty great. Don't mind me.) :D

And now, I present chapter 7. Enjoy!

Simon didn't know what to feel as he sat in the backseat of Luke's pickup truck, watching his best friend as she walked away from them, toward his house, to talk to his mom on his behalf. Hopefully, within the hour, he could be on better terms with his mother than he'd been in almost a year, not including his six months of forced amnesia, courtesy of Asmodeus, in which he'd known nothing more about the Shadow World than she had. She would know the truth, the real truth. Simon wouldn't have to hide anything anymore.

It seemed almost too good to be true.

He kept running the events of that morning, only a little over two hours earlier, through his head. The first time they'd arrived at his house, after they'd all looked between the door and each other with similar looks of horror on their faces, Simon had managed to get out of the truck and forced his limbs to carry him up the familiar sidewalk and to the front door, once again a front door he was not allowed through. He'd banged on it, the holy symbols not having any affect on his skin, and shouted for his mom to let him in. His key no longer worked to open it-she'd changed locks. He'd stood there for a good ten minutes until, finally, he was met with the only response he would get from his mother that morning, "Go away, you monster!"

At those four words, his resolve had shattered and he'd found himself walking away from the door and back toward the truck where his best friend and her parents waited for him with both sympathy and fear written on their faces; sympathy for him and fear for what it meant for everyone else.

He'd been numb during and immediately after that. He'd barely registered as Luke pulled away and drove right back to the Institute; Clary's concerned expression, her hand on his arm, Isabelle's dark eyes lit with confusion, everyone gathering in the library. Clary had been halfway through explaining what had happened by the time the fog lifted, leaving in its wake a deep pain at yet again having lost his mother. And worse still, because her reason for hating him was no longer valid, but he had no way to convince her otherwise.

The pain had been replaced with an almost-hope once some semblance of a plan had been discussed and it seemed that his mom would learn the truth. He didn't want to get his hopes up, not too much, not yet. Their plan was not flawless and things could still go very, very wrong, especially with a prince of Hell up against them; and yet, he couldn't help himself. A tiny shred of hope had ignited inside him, just enough to keep him from a depressing place, and though he was scared of what the repercussions would be if things didn't work out, he couldn't find it in himself to let go of it.

Even now, as he sat in the truck, waiting, as Clary went to bat for him, Simon held on to that tiny bit of hope that this would work. He didn't see any other choice. He wasn't a vampire anymore and, though he wasn't completely human anymore either, he couldn't bear to go through life with his mother hating him for being some monster that he wasn't; one that, when it really came down to it, he'd never been in the first place.

Simon held his breath as Clary mounted the steps and knocked on the door. This had to work. For the sake of his lingering sanity, it just had to.

Clary waited for about a minute before knocking on the front door a second time and waiting some more. She was about to knock a third time when, finally, she head the familiar voice of Elaine Lewis ask timidly from the other side, "Who is it?" She sounded haggard and upset, almost scared of what the answer would be. Clearly this hatred she felt for Simon, or whoever it was she thought he was now, didn't stop her from longing for and grieving over her son.

"Elaine?" Clary called through the still-closed door, hoping Simon's mother was still friendly enough with her for the first-name basis, "Its Clary." The thought crossed her mind suddenly that it was possible that Asmodeus had only returned some of Elaine's memories and not others, meaning Simon's mother could have no idea who she was still. She hoped against all hope that that was not the case. That would've made things even more impossibly difficult.

To Clary's relief, the door before her opened almost too quickly to reveal the familiar frame of Elaine Lewis. "Clary?" the older woman breathed in a strange mixture of what sounded like surprise and relief. She pulled Clary into a hug before she could say anything, speaking quickly as if the teenager would disappear at any moment. "Oh, where have you been? It's been so long! I thought something had happened to you too! Just like-" Her words faltered for a moment, "Oh, Clary, it's terrible! Simon! My little boy!" She was crying as she let go of the younger girl and stepped back to wordlessly invite her inside.

Deciding it was probably better to play dumb, Clary stepped inside and wore what she hoped looked like a genuine expression of confusion and worry. "What happened to Simon?" she asked. Better to let Elaine explain what she thought was the truth than to let her know that Clary had been associating with her son's "murderer." Simon's mother just looked at her for a few seconds, giving her a once-over, her eyes lingering on the exposed runes on Clary's arms and neck (there was only so much skin you could cover in the summer before you just looked strange).

Looking at Clary, Elaine's tears dried momentarily, the pain and loss in her eyes turning to shock and slight horror at the many "tattoos" and scars Clary had taken on in such a short time. "Clary," she spoke, not answering her question, "What happened to you? What's with…? You-"

"I know," Clary interrupted, "I'll explain. But tell me what happened to Simon?" She took on a more urgent, frantic tone at the end, hoping her acting skills were good enough to pull this off.

Elaine looked down, her eyes immediately wet again. "He's gone," she choked out after a few seconds, "Simon's gone."

"What do you mean 'he's gone'?" Clary asked as Elaine collapsed into the closest chair. She felt kind of bad for not stopping her pain when she so easily could, when the truth would make it better.

"Gone," Simon's mother repeated, "He's dead." She looked up at Clary then, who still stood before her. There was a sudden ferociousness in her eyes now, a fury plain as day. "He was murdered, Clary," she said, her voice stronger now, steady in her rage. "A monster stole him from me. He stole him and killed him, and now he walks around, wearing my little boy's face and tormenting me by knocking on my door, trying to get in during the day, and haunting my dreams at night." Tears streamed steadily down Elaine's face now and her anger, which seemed to be the only thing keeping her upright, vanished just as quickly as it had come, leaving her slumped in her chair, a broken, sobbing picture before Clary. She was suddenly very glad her best friend couldn't see this.

Clary couldn't watch this anymore. Now was as good a time as any to break it to her. In fact, it was now or never as far as she was concerned. "That's not true," she said gently, crouching down by Elaine's side, "Simon isn't dead."

The older woman kept her face in her hands. "Yes, he is," she argued through the tears.

"No," Clary said, shaking her head. She put her hand on Elaine's arm until she looked up at her, "He's not. I've seen him."

Elaine shook her head, her expression softening slightly, like she was the one reasoning with a misled Clary and not the other way around. "It wasn't him, honey." Sniff. "The monster wears his face. He looks and talks just like him. He fooled me, his own mother. I'm sorry-"

"No," Clary said, shaking her head. Elaine looked like she was going to interrupt again, but Clary spoke up first. "Look, do you trust me?"

"Yes, but sweetie-"

"Just listen," Clary interrupted, regretting her rudeness despite its necessity, "You need to hear the truth." She stood up again, looking at Simon's mother who watched her; finally quiet, though looking puzzled now. "Me, my mom, Simon, we're not what you think we are." She held up both hands when Elaine began to speak up again. "Just listen. Please. We're not what you think we are, but Simon is not dead. And he's not a monster. I promise he isn't."

"But he had bottles of blood. And he never ate. That monster-"

"I know. I know. It's a long story, but I'll explain everything. I promise." And she did. She told Elaine the quick version of everything. Her mother's disappearance. Being Valentine's daughter (she left out everything about the Circle, describing him only as 'a very evil Shadowhunter'). Simon becoming a vampire. The battle in Idris. Sebastian. The Mark of Cain. Their trip to Eden. Simon's sacrifice to get them all out again. Those terrible, terrible six months. And finally, Simon's recent Ascension.

She didn't get into very much detail where it wasn't necessary, better not to give the Clave any more reason to be upset, but by the end of the story, Elaine knew everything she needed to. Her tears had long since dried, the only remaining evidence of her breakdown being her red, puffy eyes. She was quiet, not meeting Clary's eyes.

Clary stood there in front of her for what felt like an eternity, waiting for her to say something or do something. Waiting for her to begin breathing again. Eventually, finally, she looked at Clary again, her eyes lingering once more on the Marks on her arms, which she now knew to be runes. Her eyes trailed up to Clary's face. She stared at her for another minute. Finally she spoke, "So Simon is a… shadow hunter…? And you?"

Clary nodded. Elaine looked to the floor again. "Do you believe me?" Clary asked. Slowly, hesitantly, Elaine nodded, eyes still on the carpet at her feet. After another moment, Clary spoke again. "Do you want me to go?"

Simon's mother stood up quickly, holding her arms out toward Clary as if to grab her. "No! No, please. I'm fine. I-" She took a long, deep breath. "Please stay."

It was the most desperate state Clary had ever seen Elaine Lewis in. Slowly, meeting the older woman's eyes, she nodded. "Okay."

Elaine nodded too. "Okay," she repeated after another few seconds and sat back down. Her eyes landed on Clary's arms again. "So those tattoos…?"

"Runes," Clary confirmed, her voice gentle. She was careful not to make any sudden moves or do anything that might further aggravate Elaine. The poor woman already looked on the verge of going into shock.

She simply nodded though. "…And they… protect you?"

"Some of them, yeah. They all do different things."

Elaine nodded again and then leveled Clary with a more collected look. "Your mother knows?"

Clary could help the smile that went to her lips there. Once a mom, always a mom. "Yeah," she answered, "She does."

Elaine nodded again, looking slightly less shell-shocked. After thirty seconds of awkward silence, Clary asked, "Do you, um, do you want to see Simon?"

Her head snapped up again. "He's here?"

Clary nodded. "He's outside. With my parents. And his-and another Shadowhunter." Elaine's eyes darted toward the window that looked out over the road, but, of course, the drapes were still closed. She looked back to Clary, took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Wait!" she said suddenly and Clary, pulling her phone from her pocket, froze. "Has he… changed much? Now that he's… you know...?"

Clary's smile was genuine now. "No," she assured her, "He hasn't changed at all."

So? What'd ya think?

Next chapter will have some Clace in it! I know at least a few of you have been wanting some of that. And I'm actually almost finished with it, so I should have an update by... tomorrow? Tentatively. We shall see. :)

Anyway, thanks so much for reading! Until next time...