Hey guys! Here's the next chapter! Thanks for your patience this week while I was away!

So, real quick, this chapter has very very slight spoilers for The Infernal Devices. I don't think its anything worse than what was in CoHF, but if it is, sorry. If you haven't read TID, I highly recommend you do that. They are fantastic. Like, seriously, what are you waiting for?

Anyway, hope you enjoy the update and I will have the next one up as soon as I can!

The runed blade of the dagger gleamed in the afternoon light that poured through the windows lining the wall opposite the one Jace sat against, as he twirled it over and over again in his restless hands. The wall was hard against his back and the floor cold beneath him, but he had no interest in moving.

Simon paced before him, as he'd been doing since Clary had been brought to the infirmary and they had been locked out. Jace didn't know how long ago that had been, and he'd given up on trying to keep track, as his watch, which must have been broken, was moving way too slowly to be accurate.

They were still in their fighting gear, as neither of them dared leave. At one point, the rest of the Institute's inhabitants, as well as the members of the Clave, had returned from the battle, which had clearly been won, seeing as they were all still here. He didn't know how much damage Asmodeus and his army had done. And he didn't care. Not right now.

Jocelyn had been led up, looking pale and terrified, and had been admitted into the room. Simon had protested as the door had begun to swing shut again behind her, but Jace had stayed put. Jocelyn was Clary's mother; that was why she was allowed in. No one else stood a chance. Even he knew that arguing with the Brothers wouldn't get him anywhere. And maybe he still would have tried, except that he felt bone-tired, like he'd never been before; emotionally strung out and exhausted. He just wanted Clary to be okay. More than he'd ever wanted anything, he wanted that.

That had been a while ago, and he and Simon had been waiting ever since; for some news, some sign that she was going to survive. He'd been straining to hear even the smallest noise from the other side of the door, to no avail. If he had to sit there much longer, he was going to go crazy.

"Will you quit the pacing?" he demanded now of Simon, not even bothering with his usual offensive sarcasm; his voice a strange mixture of venom, exasperation, and, though he hoped it wasn't obvious, desperation, "You're driving me insane."

Simon stopped, mid-stride, before him. He eyed his fellow Shadowhunter for a second, before sighing and heaving himself down on the floor beside him. "Fine."

Another voice sounded then, not from the infirmary, but from the other end of the hallway. "Any word?" Jace turned toward the voice, already knowing who it was, though not quite sure why he was there. Jem, walking toward them, stopped a few feet from where they sat on the floor.

Jace eyed him. He, too, was still in gear, though he probably didn't have anything else to change into. "No," he said simply after a second, even after Simon had already shaken his head in response.

Jem simply nodded, looking grim.

"Why are you still here?" Simon asked abruptly, though not rudely, "Haven't the Clave members have gone back to Alicante by now?" Jace had been wondering the same thing. He just didn't care enough at the moment to voice the question.

"They did," Jem answered, "About an hour ago."

Simon waited, and when the older Shadowhunter gave no further explanation, asked, "Why aren't you with them?"

It was another few seconds before Jem replied. "I have a… vested interest, you could say, in all of this. I'd like to be here to see what comes of it."

"You mean if Clary-if she survives or not," Jace clarified, an accusation clear in his tone. He couldn't say aloud what he'd originally intended to, couldn't associate the word dies with Clary. He wouldn't.

Jem took a deep breath and studied the floor for a second before meeting Jace's gaze-at this point, more of a glare-again. In that moment, he looked younger than Jace had ever seen him. All the wisdom of, what Jace assumed had been years as a Silent Brother, seemed to fade away, leaving behind a Shadowhunter, not much older than he himself was. "Yes," Jem answered, "I suppose that is what I mean."

"Why?" Jace asked, his tone less acidic and more tired, "Why do you care?"

"Well," Jem said, his subtle English accent becoming momentarily more pronounced, "For one thing, it is because of you, Jace Herondale, that I am out here with you right now, as opposed to being on the other side of that door." He glanced at the infirmary door, closed tight. "It's a rather long story," he said, walking to side against the wall opposite them, "But I suppose I owe you both an explanation after this morning anyway. And it seems like the two of you could use a distraction."

He stopped and looked at them, not saying anything more. Jace, deciding that Jem was right about the distraction at least, raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

The Shadowhunter's lips twitched slightly at that, as if he were amused, but he did go on. "It was 1873. I was eleven years old, living in Shanghai. My parents ran the Institute there…"

The pain stopped abruptly. Although, stopped really wasn't the word. Numbed was more like it. Out of a blistering, excruciating haze of flames and burning, a sudden, unknown coolness washed over Clary, like the scorching poison fire had before, this time ridding her of every sensation. She couldn't feel her body, but she could no longer feel the pain either. It was glorious.

She was still trapped, stuck in a net of dreams and unconsciousness, even while she was aware of it. As she came further into herself-a painstakingly slow process of half-lucidity, passing images, and streaks of color that knotted themselves into an undistinguishable jumble in her mind; she became aware of a sound, faraway, unintelligible, but definitely there. She was on the edge of consciousness, stuck on the brink of wakefulness; neither awake nor completely asleep. It shouldn't have been hard to push through the fog that held her, trapped just beneath the surface of awareness, but it was. She could do nothing to break herself out of the slumber. A truth that was both aggravating and terrifying. What was happening?

She stopped fighting the darkness and sank back into her internal world of dreams and hallucinations, which were more pleasant now that she was no longer burning from the inside out.

She had no idea what was going on. She'd long ago lost the ability to discern the real from the unreal, and the visions that had monopolized her consciousness had been so contradictory, she'd long since lost all semblance of time and space. Was she still dying at the hand of Yanluo? Was she already dead? She didn't know, and she couldn't formulate the will to care.

She didn't know the exact moment that she broke through the barrier into the world of consciousness again, or what specifically changed; only that one moment, she was, as she had been, trapped in the thick, bottomless blackness of the drugged; and the next, the fog had cleared, her thoughts were once again her own, and she could feel her body again.

The last thing though, may not have necessarily been a blessing. Her body, though it didn't burn anymore, felt hollowed out, melted, as if it had been microwaved.

Still, she could feel again, and was aware now, and the flames were gone. She'd never felt better.

Slowly, painfully-everything hurt, she didn't have to move to know that-she opened her eyes-and swiftly shut them again, blinded by the light of the world outside. Light. Meaning she was not in the small, dark room that had served as her torture chamber anymore. Did that mean…? Could it be true?

Hesitantly, she opened her eyes again, blinking against the bright but fighting to keep them open. She'd had enough of the darkness. As her vision slowly came into focus, she was able to make out the shapes before her eyes, blurry but definitely there. Light blue. White Clouds. Images of angels dancing across them. She'd come to recognize the image; even with her brain working as slowly as it was, she knew it.

She was in the infirmary. In the Institute. Safe. Alive. She was at home.

The relief that flooded through her was so strong, it was almost painful. This was real. She knew it. Nothing she'd seen since the poison had first entered her system at Yanluo's hand had been so steady, in focus, and clear. The detail of the painted ceiling, the cool air of the room in her lungs, the clean sheets scratching against her skin.

Gathering her strength-she was so weak!, she turned her head to the side. A figure sat beside her bed, familiar to Clary even with her slowly clearing vision. Her mother. She held one of Clary's hands in both of hers, leaning toward her, eyes closed, as if she were praying. She'd obviously been crying, tears had left wet trails down both her cheeks. Hesitantly, wincing at the intense pain that flared to life and shot up her arm and through her body at the action, Clary squeezed her mother's hand.

Jocelyn started, her eyes flying wide and her mouth falling open in an "O" as she met Clary's eyes. Her breath came out in a small gasp. "Clary," she breathed. She reached forward, as if to stroke her hair, but then stopped, her hand hovering just next to Clary's face. "By the Angel," she murmured, as if to herself, and took a deep breath, clearly shaken up. It was the first time Clary had heard her mother use Shadowhunter slang. "Oh, baby."

"Mom," Clary said as loudly as she could, barley above a whisper, "What…?" She didn't know what to ask first, or how to ask it. She remembered bits and pieces of what had happened since Yanluo had first injected her, but she had no idea how much of that had been real and how much had been poison-induced hallucinations.

Thankfully, it was her mother there with her, and she didn't need to finish. "You were kidnapped last night, by a Greater demon, Yanluo. He injected you with a demon drug." Clary knew this already, though she didn't dare let on to that. Better to let her mother think she had no recollection of any of it. Jocelyn continued, "Jace and Simon, and Jem, they rescued you. Killed him. You're safe now."

Clary's mind was slowly starting to function properly again, allowing her to think. Had it really only been less than a day she'd been with Yanluo? It had felt like weeks, maybe months. She swallowed. "What about Asmodeus? The war… Has anything-?"

"He came. It's all over, Clary." She blinked, uncomprehending. Asmodeus had come already? When? What happened? What did 'it's all over' mean? Her mother placed a hand gently on her arm. "It's over, Clary," she said again, her voice gentle, motherly. "We won. Everyone's okay. You just need to worry about getting better now."

Clary, deciding to take her mother's word for it for now, moved on to another pressing matter. "Is Jace…?"

"He's here. He's been going quite literally crazy since he discovered you were missing." She broke off, a small smile playing around the edges of her lips, "I think that boy may be in love with you, Clary." Smiling hurt, but Clary couldn't help herself. You don't say. "He's been waiting outside in the hall since they brought you back here. Simon too."

"Can you get them?" Clary asked. Jocelyn hesitated, her eyes flicking over to the other side of the bed. Clary followed her mother's gaze and was startled to notice the hooded figure, Brother Enoch, tall and silent in parchment robes, who stood there, and must have been standing there for the duration of their conversation.

It is not advisable that you have visitors right now, he answered in her mind.

"Why not?" Clary demanded weakly.

You've come very close to death. The demon may have only had you for a single night, but he injected you with enough yin fen to kill an ordinary Shadowhunter in that time. Your body needs to rest. You are not well yet.

"They saved my life," Clary argued with effort, "Please just let me see them for five minutes."

"Clary-" Jocelyn began to protest.

"Please," she said again, though she was growing short of breath just from that, "Just a few minutes."

Brother Enoch was as still and silent as ever. Clarissa, you must remain calm, or you will need to be sedated.

Clary took a deep breath. It hurt. "I am calm. Please just let me speak to them. I'll cooperate, I promise. I just need to see them."

Very well, Brother Enoch relented, to Clary's surprise, after a moment, But then you will rest. She nodded. Brother Enoch left her bedside then, and headed toward the infirmary door, completely soundless.

Beside her, her mom stood up. "Luke's downstairs. I'm going to go tell him you're awake." Clary nodded her assent. Jocelyn, with a small smile, leaned over and pressed a light kiss to her forehead and began following the Silent Brother out. Normally, Clary would have hated such a gesture; now, she found she oddly liked it. Funny how near-death experiences changed things.

Jem finished his story and leaned his head back against the wall he sat against, watching them, Jace in particular. It was, of course, Simon who spoke up first. Jace was frankly blown away, and caught almost equally between hope and despair over Clary. If Jem's experience was anything to go by…

"So your parabatai was Jace's, what, great-great grandfather?"

"I believe he was his great-great-great grandfather, but yes."

Simon blinked. "Wow."

Jem looked at Jace. "Do you understand now, why I am here?"

"I understand," he answered. His voice sounded dull, even to his own ears. In truth, it explained a lot about a lot of things, just nothing Jace was worried about at the moment. It was nice knowing of his ancestors from such a central point of view, that they really had been good people, good Shadowhunters, even if the whole situation was slightly strange, especially given the fact that that meant Tessa Gray, Jem's fiancée, whom he had met at Clary's parents' wedding was one of those relatives. But he wasn't in the state of mind to dwell on such things right now. "You look good for a hundred and forty seven."

Jem, who didn't look in the slightest bit perturbed, but rather used to such callousness, was spared answering when the door to the infirmary, which Jace had been glancing at every few seconds since he'd sat down, swung silently open and Brother Enoch emerged, followed by Jocelyn, who waited just outside the door.

Jace was on his feet almost before his brain registered the action, and he crossed the small space of hallway toward the Silent Brother. "Is she…?"

She is alive, though not completely out of danger. The yin fen has done great damage to her body, and it will take some time before her system is completely free of its effects.

"Will she be okay?" Simon, who had come to stand beside Jace, looking beyond relieved to hear of Clary's prognosis, asked.

She was only with Yanluo for a single night, however the amount of the drug given to her was a great deal larger than what we've seen from him in the past. That part seemed directed specifically at Jem, who had stood up, but stayed where he was against the wall. The excess angel blood in her veins has kept the poison from consuming her life. A Nephilim without it surely would have perished under the physical and mental stress brought upon the body as a result of it. Had you arrived much later, she would not have survived.

"Is there permanent damage?" Jace asked.

There doesn't appear to be. Ultimately, time will tell, but she shows no signs of serious addiction to the drug. Her body will heal over time.

The wave of relief that washed over Jace at the Brother's words was enough to almost drown him. "Can I-"

She is awake and asking to see you-both of you. You are each allotted ten minutes, one at a time. And with that, Brother Enoch glided down the hall without another word.

Jace looked after him for half a second before turning to Simon, who didn't hesitate. "You go first." Jace, surprised as he was at the other Shadowhunter's answer, almost questioned it. He simply nodded though and patted Simon's back in thanks as he turned once more toward the infirmary door, met Clary's mother's eyes, who smiled minutely at him, and then proceeded to enter the sick room, feeling lighter than he had in ages.

Thanks for reading!