Chapter Fourteen

A/N: Thank you to rori-mori and shang07 for reviewing the last chapter.

Jocelyn waited in the book shop until the break of dawn, watching the door for any sign, but neither Luke nor Clary returned in the night. The phone was silent, the lock on the door undisturbed, and no matter how many times Jocelyn got up to watch from the window, she knew that it would do no good. Luke and Clary were not coming back, and her time to wait for them was running short.

'I don't have to go back.' she reminded herself. She was certain that had been Valentine's implication when he had let her go. He was being kind, giving her a chance to return to the life she so desperately missed. And ever since the minute he had disappeared from sight, she had been certain that was the last she would ever see of her husband.

Now, she had never felt less sure in her life.

'I've got Clary to think about.' was her first thought, as it always was. 'She's only just found out about this world, there's still so much she needs to know. But she has Luke. He knows the Shadow World just as well as I do- probably better, in fact- and he would give his life for her in a heartbeat. Who does Jonathan have to protect him? Valentine.'

Somehow, that thought frightened her more than anything Clary might face in the Shadow World, for she knew that if nothing else, her daughter would be safe from him. He did not know the truth about Clary, or so it seemed; in all the times he had spoken of her, he had never once claimed the girl as his own. If she returned to Idris, to settle down with her husband and son, he would never suspect her of lying to him. Just as he had never expected her before.

And so, with that thought, the decision was made. Jocelyn slowly padded across to the antique desk that held Luke's cash register and dozens of miscellaneous papers he had never quite gotten around to sorting through, retrieving a fountain pen from amongst the mess. It had been a present from Jocelyn herself, for Luke's '40th' birthday- yet another of the lies they had told Clary, to try and hide the secrets of their awful teenage years.

As she wrote, using the back of a piece of paperwork, she was sure from the date on the front had longed since expired its vitality, Jocelyn was far too aware that these words could be her last to the two she loved most. It would not do to think that way, of course- if all went well, she would take Jonathan away, and the four of them would be together as a family- but Jocelyn had always been more of a pragmatist than a dreamer. It was the curse of a fairy-tale crashing around her head when she was little more than a girl.

My dearest Clary and Luke,
After the last time we saw each other, you'll probably want to tear this note up and throw it in the fire, but please don't. It explains more than I had a chance to say face to face, Clary, and it'll comfort me to know you've been told the whole story, rather than just the horrible snippets of lies you had the chance to hear.
I got married when I was eighteen years old, to a man I was convinced was an angel in human form. I loved him more than words could say, I would have anything for him. I can see now that I should have waited longer, that I should have known better than to throw myself into something so recklessly when I was barely more than a child, but I was certain I would have spent the rest of my life with this man.
The marriage lasted three years, and in that time, my heart was crushed into pieces. Valentine took everything from me- my family, my spirit, and my little boy, the brother I told you about. Or at least, I thought he had. He set a fire at my family home, killed my parents, and I'd thought he'd killed our son as well. But he hadn't. Jonathan is still alive, and back in Idris living with Valentine.
I want you both to know so much that me going back there does not mean I love you any less, and that I won't be gone forever. The simple version of the story is that my son hates his father, rightly so, and I think I can get him back to New York with us. It's a long shot, I know, but I'll never forgive myself if I don't try.
I love you both and I hope I'll see you soon. Everything will be alright in the end, I know it.
Jocelyn.

She left the paper on the chair she had sat on, knowing it had more chance of being noticed there than atop the piles on the desk, when Luke finally did return, and with a final glance over her shoulder at the familiar shop, she closed the door behind her.

The chill of morning was brisk in New York, far more than the mellow temperatures of Idris, and even as it approached midday, the sun was shining cold. 'Maybe it just feels different because it is.' her mind conceded. 'Everything's changed now. However much I tried to avoid it, the day's come where everything has to change.'

Even from a hundred feet away, Jocelyn could recognise Valentine stood at the base of the Brooklyn Bridge, his white gold hair catching the sunlight and shining. It looked almost like a halo, if she could suspend her notion of irony for a moment, like an angel calling her home.

The man noticed her before long, beginning to stride hurriedly towards her, as if he could not quite believe she was truly moving towards him. His mouth was open a little in shock, his eyes wide, and Jocelyn could hardly believe it; he really had been letting her go after all.

"You came back." he sighed happily, once they finally stood face to face.

"For Jonathan." she clarified, not wanting to stoke the flames that had almost driven the man to madness before. "You told me I could help him, I want to do that. Clary's safe, Luke's safe, there's nothing to distract me anymore."

"No more visits to New York." Valentine stated, his voice just a little colder. "You understand that, don't you? If you leave now, you're not coming back."

Her heart screamed in protest, thinking of the freckled-faced grin of her daughter, the joyful laugh of her best friend. But still she nodded slowly. "This is it now, I promise."

Valentine's smile grew wider still as he held out his hand towards her, enclosing her fingers in a gentle grip that still somehow felt like a vice. "Very well, then. 'Til death do us part, my darling."

And then, like a whisper on the New York breeze, they were gone.

A/N: I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know it's not the choice we're all screaming at her to make, but she's smarter than Valentine thinks. Please review!