Hey guys! Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I had to take a bit of a break with all the craziness of the holidays. That said, I hope you all had a great Christmas!
So this chapter is long - you're welcome. And I gave you a lot of Jace POV since there hasn't been much of that in this story so far. Hope you like it!
Also, thank you to the Guest who gave me the idea for this chapter, as well as upcoming ones! Keep the ideas coming, folks! They help a lot!
The Shadowhunters of the New York Institute, minus Simon, stood just inside the Institute's walls, having just returned from a morning of hunting a trio of Elapid demons that had been terrorizing the streets of New York. The nave was bright, as it always was, with light from the candelabras and the late morning sunlight shone through the stained glass windows as Jace cleaned the demon blood from his blade, examining the damage done to it by the acidic ichor. After deeming it beyond hope of ever working properly again, he tossed it aside in disgust, sending it skittering under one of the benches, and glanced down at his gear, which had fared surprisingly well, considering the amount of Elapid venom that had soaked him, having shot up at him from the inside of the demon he had skewered. If not for the iratze Alec had drawn on him, his skin still would have been burned red and raw from it.
Isabelle, who had followed directly behind Jace in walking inside, continued past him now, throwing herself down on the end of the closest pew and wrapping her whip expertly around her wrist, cleaning it as she went. "I hope you're planning on picking that up, Jace," she said, her eyes not leaving her task, "You know how mom hates it when you leave your things laying around."
Rolling his eyes, Jace said, "Thank you, Isabelle. I didn't know you were working as her personal spokesperson now. The task suits you." Even as he said it though, he crossed the room, skirting a row of pews, to retrieve his discarded weapon. Isabelle, looking at him for the first time, simply stuck her tongue out at him in reply.
She, of course, was completely clean, not a speck of dirt on her, not a hair out of place, though she had been fighting just as long and hard as the rest of them-a fact Jace wouldn't have believed, looking at her, had he not seen it himself. The rest of them, though, desperately needed hot showers.
Clary walked past them then, heading in the direction of the elevator. She wore, as they all did, black gear, dusty, after a hit she'd taken from one of the demons, which had sent her tumbling into a dirty alleyway in one of the sketchier parts of town, nearly giving Jace a heart attack in the process. Before meeting her, he had never worried even remotely close to as much as he did now. If he didn't love her so much, it would have been really inconvenient too. He was learning, though, that she was more than capable of taking care of herself.
Her red hair hung, messy and tangled, half-out of its ponytail, which she took out the rest of the way as she walked, shaking it out the best she could in its current state. There was a smudge of grime on her left cheek as well, though she didn't seem to be aware of it. Or she was and didn't care. Either way, Jace thought she looked great.
"Well," she said as she went, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving. And filthy. So if you two are done, I'd like to get out of these clothes now." Alec immediately moved to follow, overtaking her quickly with his long frame, and proceeded to lift the elevator gate for her.
"Were you asking for help with that task?" Jace asked, coming up beside her and slinging an arm around her as they followed Alec inside the lift, Isabelle bringing up the rear.
"TMI," Izzy announced, feigning disgust, as she closed the door and the ancient elevator began creaking its way up. Alec looked to be hiding a smirk. Clary, realizing her mistake, turned and smacked Jace hard in the arm. He only grinned at her in response, amused.
Simon was waiting for them in the corridor when the elevator stopped, leaning against the faded wallpaper that lined the Institute's hallways with his arms crossed. He watched them emerge with an expression that was clearly trying for unconcerned and casual, though he obviously was more inclined to sulking at the moment. Belatedly, Jace wondered what time Simon had gotten there. He had left with Alec and Isabelle pretty early, and had gotten word to Clary to meet them on the way. That had been before eight that morning. It was probably close to eleven now.
"Have fun?" Simon asked, still leaning against the wall, straightening only after Izzy drew near and moved to intertwine her fingers with his.
Clary must have been wondering the same thing Jace was, because she asked, "How long have you been here?"
"I got here at about nine-thirty, only to find the place empty, except for Maryse, who said you were out, valiantly fighting the evils of this world," Simon explained blandly, "So I've been here since then, looking for ways to pass the time, since I didn't know when you guys would be back, reading encyclopedias and such for fun. I've since become an expert in anatomy, in case you care. There's also coffee in the kitchen, if anyone's interested."
"That," Alec said, "Sounds fantastic. Thanks, man." Sidestepping around Jace, he proceeded down the hallway, toward the kitchen, clearly hoping to avoid the awkward confrontation. Jace couldn't blame his parabatai either. He himself couldn't help feeling slightly bad for Simon. The poor guy wanted to be in on the demon fighting action so badly. He just wasn't ready yet. It wasn't his fault the situation hadn't allowed for a normal Ascension, on a normal timetable.
Beside Jace, Clary sighed, "Sorry, Simon. I meant to call you…" In her defense, that morning had been slightly chaotic.
"It's fine." He waved a hand, the one not in Isabelle's grasp, dismissively. "It's whatever." It obviously wasn't 'whatever,' but no one seemed interested in pressing the issue. He didn't seem quite as bitter now though. Clary had that effect on him. He couldn't be mad at her.
Clary continued to stare at her friend for another few seconds, before she let go of Jace's hand, which she had been holding, glanced back at him, and then at Simon. "Just, give me five minutes to change and shower. Then we'll do something. I promise."
"Its fine, Clary," Simon said tiredly, like he was done with the conversation, but she had already started walking toward her room, which she rarely actually stayed in nowadays, and if she heard him, she didn't acknowledge so.
Jace walked out of his bedroom, pulling a gray T-shirt over his head as he did so, his hair still damp from the shower of his own he had taken to rid the dirt and leftover ichor from his skin and hair. He made his way toward the kitchen, in search of the coffee Simon had mentioned, hoping he had been serious when he said it was in there.
To Jace's immense delight, he had. A pot sat, two-thirds full, brewed and hot on the countertop, still steaming, filling the kitchen with the heavenly aroma. In all the disarray of that morning, coffee, sadly, had not been a priority. Alec sat at the table, still wearing gear, engrossed in the cell phone in his hand. He looked up as Jace came in and nodded in greeting, before going back to what he was doing-probably texting Magnus. Simon and Isabelle were nowhere to be seen.
Jace poured some coffee for himself and sat down, for the first time that morning, across from Alec, sipping from the hot mug in his hands, grateful for the caffeine, even with the summer heat outside. Clary appeared a few minutes later, in denim shorts and a purple tank top, her own damp hair tied back in a loose knot. She grabbed a granola bar from one of the cabinets, rationed some coffee for herself (it was kind of a hot commodity), and took her place in the chair beside him. Alec ignored them both.
"How are your burns?" she asked.
Jace held up his bare arm, which, aside from the faded lines left from the many years of rune applications, was completely unscathed. "Haven't you learned of the miraculous healing power of iratzes yet, Clary?" he asked with mock seriousness.
She only smiled, shrugged, and took another bite of her brunch.
The three stayed there for another few minutes. The kitchen was quiet. Alec was still engrossed in the technology before him. Clary had taken up sketching on the pad of paper Maryse always left sitting on the table, and Jace sat, one hand resting casually on her leg, watching-mostly. He alternated between observing, in fascination, the scene from that morning, of Isabelle and Alec facing a very realistic interpretation of an Elapid demon, come to life at Clary's hand, and looking at her; her face, her hands, the rest of her, and wondering, for the millionth time, how on earth he'd ever been lucky enough to love her, and more importantly, for her to love him back.
He'd finally come to terms with his past, embraced it, and made peace with the many demons he'd carried with him for so long because of it. He had learned, and was still learning, how to feel, and how to love, mostly thanks to Clary. He had learned how to appreciate the greatest things in life, and it blew his mind, really, whenever he thought about it. For so long, he'd been such a despicable person, mostly because it was the only way he'd known how to be, and still, he had been loved by the Lightwoods, and eventually by Clary. And he could never thank them enough for their kindness, for opening his eyes to what a family really was.
Clary finished her drawing and tore the top page off the notepad, set it aside, and began a new one, this time of a person, whom Jace could soon make out as himself. And he had to smile. She had often complained of the difficulties she faced with drawing him, for whatever reason, and it amused him to no end, how she perpetually continued trying anyway. She had a rough outline down before the quiet was interrupted.
"There you guys are." It was Isabelle, in the doorway, with Simon behind her. Jace and Clary turned to look at them. Alec looked up for a two count, and looked down again. Isabelle looked around, shaking her head in disapproval. "Look at you guys. So boring. Don't you ever, I don't know, talk to each other or something?"
"Don't you ever, I don't know, stop talking or something?" Jace replied back, mirroring her tone. Behind him, Alec snorted. Isabelle just stared at her blonde-haired brother dully.
Simon made his way around Izzy and into the kitchen, where he leaned against the counter. She followed a second later and hoisted herself gracefully up onto the countertop, next to where he stood, leaning.
Changing the subject, Isabelle asked, "Have you guys eaten anything yet? If you want I could make some-"
"NO!" The answer was instantaneous from Jace, Clary and Alec, who was paying close attention now.
Isabelle blinked. "Oh, come on! I-"
"NO." Jace and Alec repeated, completely synchronized.
"I'd rather not die today, if it's alright with you," said Jace.
Izzy sighed. "Fine. I'll order pizza."
Alec perked up then. "Get-"
"I know," his sister spoke quickly, "Pepperoni for you and Jace, veggie for Clary-" she looked at the red-head as she said this, who smirked and nodded assent, and then at Simon, "And you too, right?" she asked.
Simon shrugged. "That's fine. I'm easy."
"Yeah, you're easy" Clary said with a teasing smile, "As long as it's kosher."
Simon shrugged. "Well, yeah."
Jace turned to look at him, "Isn't the whole kosher thing kind of out the window for you anyway? I mean, you've consumed human blood. I'm fairly sure that breaks the rules."
"I'm counting that as a necessary exception," Simon answered, crossing his arms, "Because it's not like I had another choice."
Jace just looked at him with an eyebrow raised, and then snorted, "Whatever floats your boat."
"Okay, well, if you two are done bickering," Isabelle put in, "I'm gonna call. What do you think, 3 large pies? One pepperoni, one veggie, one-"
She broke off and stared as a sixth person entered the kitchen. It was Magnus, but he looked… not good; haggard, and pale, and sweaty. Also seriously lacking in sparkles and hair gel-very unlike Magnus.
Jace did a double-take upon seeing him. Simon and Clary just stared. Alec bolted upright, wide-eyed, and rushed over to him, demanding, in a shocked voice, what Jace was sure they were all wondering, "Oh my God, Magnus, are you okay?!"
Magnus, taking a deep breath and leaning weakly in the doorframe, nodded in a painful-looking way, like it took up all his remaining energy to do so. Alec draped one of Magnus' arms over his shoulders and half-carried his boyfriend toward the closest chair-Jace's, and Jace, in his extreme curiosity and shock, gave it up to him without a second thought and stood behind Clary's chair, watching, as they all were, the clearly ailing warlock.
"It's-" Magnus began, moistening his lips, which were clearly dry. His words were slurred. "It's my father. He's attacking my power, sapping my strength. Its taking everything I have to ward him off. It's tiring after a while." He met Alec's eyes and a silent exchange seemed to pass between them. Alec offered his hand and Magnus took it. Both closed their eyes for a second and then it was over. Both opened their eyes again, Alec blinking slowly, like he'd just woken up. Magnus seemed slightly better though, able to keep himself upright on his own power at least. Jace knew Alec must have given him some of his strength.
"Why is your father doing this? Attacking you?" Clary asked, looking concerned. Jace couldn't blame her.
Magnus shook his head. His words were slightly clearer now. "I told you all before. The incident with Simon's mother was just the beginning. My father isn't finished yet. That was only the first jab. He's going to keep attacking us, all of us, sapping our strength little by little, weakening our resolve. I wouldn't be surprised if he sent a horde of demons to battle it out in the end, with himself in the lead. Actually, I'd be surprised if he didn't. He'll be seeking vengeance, and he won't stop until he gets it, or is defeated." He took a deep breath. "And it won't be pretty."
There was silence as the Shadowhunters let that information settle in. It was Simon who spoke first. "Great."
"What are we gonna do?" Clary asked.
"We'll fight," Jace answered, and looked around at all of them, "We'll have to."
"He's right," Magnus said, "And if this assault keeps up, I'm not sure how much help I will be able to offer you."
Alec leaned back against the wall, staring into space, and said, "This isn't good."
"What are we looking at here?" Jace asked Magnus.
"One thing you do have going for you is that my father's realm is sucked completely dry, and the demons that are there, under his command, are starving and weak. If and when they get here, it's very possible they will be so frenzied from hunger that they will be sloppy and hard to control, which will be good for you. The problem, of course, is the very fact that we don't know that that's exactly what will happen, or what else my father has up his sleeve. At this point, there are a lot of unknowns in the equation."
Isabelle sighed, shaking her head. "We'll… figure something out," she said, "We have time, right?"
"Some time," Magnus agreed, "But likely not a ton."
"Great. Another waiting game," Clary said unhappily. Jace reached forward and placed a hand gently on her shoulder in what was hopefully a comforting gesture.
"Unfortunately, that's all we have right now," Alec agreed."
The walk home late that afternoon was a quiet one. Clary and Simon walked the mostly empty sidewalks leading from the Institute to the subway, side by side, the summer sun still bright in the sky, bearing down on them. Neither one said much. Clary, at least, could find nothing worth saying.
She couldn't believe they were facing yet another battle. More attacks. More fighting. And this time, they were up against an enemy that couldn't actually be killed, not really. She wondered about their chances. They had fought greater demons only a couple of times before, and each time had been an insanely close call. She wondered how many times they could get lucky before their luck ran out.
She shook her head. No more thinking. Not right now. She turned to look up at Simon who walked beside her, hands at his sides, staring down at the sidewalk in front of them. "I'm sorry about this morning," she said, speaking for, really, the first time since they'd left the Institute, "I should have called you, told you not to head over until we were back."
He looked at her and shrugged. "It's alright. I was just jealous. I want to be out there with you guys, part of the action, not stuck inside until I can learn more. It was stupid." He paused and then sighed before speaking again, "Besides, we have bigger things to worry about."
"Yeah," Clary sighed in response, "I know."
Suddenly, Simon stopped walking and let out his breath in an agitated huff, looking to the building at his right, shaking his head. "God, this is all my fault," he said, and slowly brought his eyes back to meet hers.
"Simon, no it's not. Don't say that."
"It is. This is all happening because of me. If I hadn't Ascended, if I'd just stayed human and ignorant, none of this would have ever happened. You, and Izzy, and all of you would be safe, and you wouldn't be facing another war. This is all on me, Clary, don't tell me it isn't."
Clary stood and looked at him long and hard for a few seconds before speaking again. "Alright, fine," she said, "It is because of you. But that doesn't make it your fault."
"Yes, it-"
"No, it doesn't. Asmodeus is mad because we played him. We found a way to get you back and for everyone to be happy despite his trick. It's because of you. You didn't cause it. There's a difference. And you're not the only one who was affected by what we did. Me, Izzy, we both wanted you back. Everyone did. Even Jace, though he'd never admit it. So it's not your fault, it's all of our faults. Together. We did this together and we'll get through it together because we have no other choice. We're gonna fight. We're Shadowhunters. It's what we do. So stop being stupid, because blaming yourself isn't going to change anything anyway."
Simon stared at her for a solid ten seconds and then said quietly, "You're right."
"I know," she replied, voice quiet, and then stepped forward and took his hand in hers. "It will be okay, somehow. You have to believe that." Simon only nodded, still looking slightly unconvinced. "Besides," she added, "We have you now too."
"You had me before."
"Yeah, but you're one of us now, so it's better."
Seemingly despite himself, Simon smiled. "'One of us.' Listen to you. It sounds like a gang."
Clary smiled too. "Well we do wear black and carry weapons. So I suppose that's really not very different."
This time, Simon's laugh was stronger and more natural. And a just a little hopeful too.
And the plot thickens, dun dun dunnnnn!
So, I don't completely know where I'm going with this whole thing yet, so if you have any ideas, again, feel free to share them. The more ideas, the faster the updates. Just saying.
Also, before you go, I am working on a TMI one-shot. I wanted to have it up before Christmas, but that obviously didn't happen, so hopefully I will be able to post it soon. So be on the look out for that!
Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. As always, I will see you nest time! :)