Chapter Eleven

A/N: No reviewers.

In the days that followed, Jocelyn spent every spare moment trying to devise a way to escape. She snuck old maps of Alicante portals from Valentine's study, monitored the patterns of his behaviour, where he went and when. Each time she came a step closer to freedom, she felt the ache in her heart intensify. After all, every step she took towards Clary was another step away from Jonathan.

Having to choose one child over another was an agony she could not begin to explain. It went against every instinct in her body, her very soul telling her that her son was just as worthy of protection as her daughter. 'But he's not my son.' she told herself, each time the doubts resurfaced. The time between those doubts was growing shorter with every attempt. 'My son died in my womb before he was ever born. No matter how good Jonathan might seem from time to time, he is still not my Jonathan. He never could be.'

And yet that did not make it easier.

Since their fierce confrontation, Jocelyn had not laid eyes on Jonathan, the boy's door firmly shut each time she walked past. 'It's for the best,' she told herself, each time she was tempted to knock on his door. 'The less you care about each other, the less it will hurt both of you when you leave.' It was a reasonable argument in theory, though her heart still ached at the thought of leaving Jonathan behind.

With ferocious determination, Jocelyn pushed the image of the boy's face from her mind, concentrating instead on her darling daughter. She would have been alone for weeks now, the last sign of her mother a quickly typed text message telling her to stay away. Clary being Clary, she would have returned to the apartment that night, faced with broken furniture, smashed glass and empty rooms.

'I wonder what went through her mind that night.' Jocelyn thought. It was a painful path to follow, imagining what Clary's life was like without her there. It tore her heart in two different directions; she wanted to think that Clary needed her, that she would be lost without her, but she did not want to imagine that pain for her child. It seemed that her heart would fight her either way.

"You miss her." Jocelyn started, dropping the pencil she had been drawing with and sending a silent prayer of thanks that she had stashed her efforts to escape beneath a loose floorboard. Valentine smirked as he leant against the door frame, seemingly satisfied with the effect of his snooping. "Your daughter, what was her name again?"

Jocelyn looked up at her husband silently, her eyes flaring with warning. She knew his game, she knew what he was trying to make her do, and she was not going to let it happen. Not again.

"Jocelyn, I know you." Valentine stated, moving further into the room. Instinctively, Jocelyn shuffled to the very edge of the bed, close enough that she could leap off it and into a battle stance within a second. Seeing her become increasingly on edge, Valentine halted his approach; it was the closest to consideration she could expect from him. "I know your bravery, your determination, your fighting spirit, all of the things that I love most about you. But what drew me to you all those years ago, it wasn't Jocelyn Fairchild the warrior. It was the girl that lay beneath the armour, the kind, considerate, loving girl who always wanted to think the best of those around her. Trust in a person's very soul… it's so rare in our world."

"And look where it got me." Jocelyn could not help but retort. "I trusted you, Valentine, and you used that trust against me."

"Yes, I did." Valentine conceded. Jocelyn was taken aback by his bluntness. On the few occasions they had discussed their past, the man had been hard pressed to accept his actions, let alone his intentions. He had never once admitted what she had since come to know, accidentally reading leaflets in public libraries, posters on the walls of the subway; he had abused her.

"Why?" she found herself asking, the words rolling off her tongue, though she had not even thought them. "I loved you more than anything in the world, I would have followed you over the edge of a cliff if you'd asked me to. So why did you have to manipulate me, when I probably would have done what you asked anyway?"

"Honestly?" Valentine asked. At his wife's sharp nod, he took a deep breath, then continued. "Because it was so easy to do it. You're right, you would have done anything I asked you to, because you trusted me… and you loved me. And that made it easy to convince you that all your fears, everything you thought about what I was doing… you were mistaken. The first time you heard those noises in the night, the noises from the cellar, I lied to you, told you it was the baby making you hear things. You believed me so easily, I just… I never stopped."

The silence that fell between them was so heavy, Jocelyn almost choked on the air she breathed. Tears burned behind her eyes but she pushed them back. Even when Valentine had bared his soul to her, she could bring herself to drop her guard.

That silence continued so long that it soon became apparent that they would speak no more on the matter, and so Valentine, hanging his head, made his way back to the doorway. He had crossed the threshold and almost closed the door behind him when he remembered what he had come for. Somehow, it seemed more appropriate than ever now, though Valentine did not truly want to make the offer anymore. He was so certain of how it would end.

"If you want to see your daughter, I won't stop you." Jocelyn blinked, her head spinning. She could not believe her ears. It must have been a trap. "I'll take you to New York, drop you off at some landmark or another, then I'll come and collect you a day later. I'll never have to know where you've gone. Or where she is."

"You trust me enough to do that?" the redhead asked, her voice breathless with disbelief. "To just leave me unguarded and hope that I'll come running back to you?"

Valentine looked up at her, his hand still resting on the door handle. "Yes."

And then the door was closed, and he was gone, leaving Jocelyn alone with her swirling thoughts. She knew she ought to be more cautious, to examine all the possibilities in which Valentine could trap her in her own decisions. But the thought of Clary was so alluring, she could not bring herself to turn him down. The last time she had trusted Valentine, it had almost been her end; perhaps now, he was finally giving her a new beginning.

A/N: I felt like Jocelyn and Valentine had to actually address the abuse issue, and I hope I did that feasibly. I think seeing her again and talking to her would have made him realise how awful he really was to her during their marriage. But now he's (supposedly) trying to make amends; do you think it's a trap? Please review!