He wanted her out of his hair.
Clary wasn't stupid. Valentine wouldn't have sent her out on a hunt with Jonathan for any other reason. He openly mocked her lack of training and ability, save her power over runes. He often said she was useless, though she suspected that was mostly to hurt her feelings. When Valentine had told her to follow Jonathan into the field, stalking a nest of vampires, she'd known. Perhaps he even hoped she wouldn't return. He'd told her how he truly felt about her the day Idris fell.
You are the only thing Jocelyn loved more than me. Because of you she hates me, and because of that, I hate the sight of you.
Clary had never really loved her father. He was a horrid, psychotic zealot. Despite this, his words hurt her more deeply than she liked to admit. Despite herself, she didn't want to be hated by her own father.
"You need to keep your mind on the matter at hand."
Jonathan was glaring at her from his crouched position at the opposite wall. Clary took a deep breath and nodded, though he didn't look convinced, and turned her gaze back to the tiny broken bits of wall she could see through into the next room.
Jonathan of course, was fully prepared. He had his steele, a sword -the real and now dead, Sebastian Verlac's- and several other small weapons strapped to his belt. He was also dressed in the famous Shadowhunter uniform of leather. She however, was dressed in ratty jeans and a t-shirt. She'd thrown on her Shadowhunter belt hoping Jonathan would give her some sort of weapon, but he'd only smiled and shook his head.
"Will there be many of them?" She asked it softly, trying to keep her breathing steady. Jonathan, who was drawing a dagger from his boot glanced her way and arched a brow.
"Are you afraid?"
Her lips pressed tightly together and she glared at him. Jonathan smirked and moved silently to her side. It was unfair how quiet he could be, as if he wasn't there at all. It was somewhat unnerving.
"Don't fret, little sister," he murmured, pulling her close and kissing her hair, "I'll protect you."
"Oh yeah, that's a relief." Clary rolled her eyes and turned back toward the opening in the wall, then she let out a scream.
Eyes. There were eyes there, and they were starring right at her.
Jonathan had grabbed the back of her shirt and hauled her away before the plaster could crack and the vampire exploded through it. He moved so quickly, Clary could hardly follow it, already lunging at Jonathan before the plaster had hit the floor. Clary crab-walked back away from them, eyes wide and mouth open, ready for a second scream.
Jonathan drew his sword -she didn't know what had happened to the dagger- and went into his fighting stance, black eyes practically sparkling with anticipation. The vampire looked between the two of them, then slowly straightened.
"You are no Shadowhunter, boy." It narrowed its eyes, watching Jonathan in what looked like confusion. "You dress like them, but your blood, it is…"
The dagger appeared again, shooting at the vampire before it could move. Clary watched the blade sink to the hilt into the creature's gut. The vampire let out a howl of pain, stumbling back against the ruined wall, its hands closing around the dagger as it tried to wrench the thing from its body.
"Is that enough for you, leech?" Jonathan demanded with a snarl. His black eyes glinted maliciously and Clary curled into herself on the dirty floor, only able to watch without a means to defend herself. He was so cold in battle, like Jace. Completely set on his task.
It took a moment, but the vampire managed to pull the dagger out and toss it far across the room. Its eyes narrowed to furious slits and it crouched down, ready to spring, as Jonathan did the same. Clary couldn't follow the fight now, it was happening too quickly. She only knew that staying here was dangerous, so she dragged herself back onto her feet and moved away from them, deeper into the building.
Fear curled in her gut at the thought of other vampires lurking these old halls. Surely they would have appeared by now, right? At the sound of fighting, they would have rushed to investigate and protect their brother. Assuming of course vampires cared that much about one another. She'd certainly never sensed much compassion in Raphael.
Something snapped to her right and she jumped, fearing the worst. Why couldn't they have just given her a weapon?
"Damnit Clary!"
She spun in time to see the vampire spring forward, shooting at her so fast with his sword that his feet left the ground. She only went rigid for a moment, but already she knew it was too late. He was going to get her. Then suddenly, Jonathan was there, shoving her to the side.
He caught the vampire as it landed, exactly where she had stood. Grabbing its wrist, he spun into it, twisted the blade from its hand, and stabbed backwards. Clary watched as the sword sunk right into the vampire's chest and ripped out through its back.
It gagged, slumping forward, but Jonathan elbowed it back and turned, planting his boot on the end of the sword and shoving it in to the hilt. The vampire blinked once, as if it could not believe what had just happened. Like the idea of failure hadn't even been a possibility. Clary watched, clutching her chest, as it coughed wetly, crumpled to the floor, and began to burn away.
"You saved me." She sounded amazed, even to herself, as she turned to Jonathan. Scoffing, he grabbed his sword and pulled it from the dead creature by planting his boot on its rapidly disintegrating chest.
"No. I got you out of my way so that I wouldn't have to bring your corpse back to our father and explain how I let you charge a downworlder without a weapon." His voice had risen steadily toward the end and he punctuated the sentence by slicing his sword into what was left of the vampire's neck. The wet sound made her flinch, one hand going to the empty holster for her steele.
"It's not my fault he won't let me have one." she grumbled, sounding very much like an obstinate child. Jonathan growled deep in the back of his throat, like some kind of animal and kicked the severed head across the room.
"No, but it is your fault that I still have to explain that bruise on your jaw."
She frowned in confusion. "What bruise?"
His knuckles cracked across the side of her face, snapping her head back sharply. She cried out and covered herself, working her mouth. Hot pain pulsed across her jaw and brought on fury and humiliation. Not yet finished, Jonathan snatched up her chin, digging his fingers into the flesh and dragging her attention back to him.
"I've only idly wondered how satisfying it would be to throw you to the demons and watch them tear you apart." She opened her mouth to retort, but he growled over her, tightening his grip. "If you get in my way again, I will. Valentine be damned."
"Get off of me!" she cried, shoving him back and dragging the sword with her. The demon boy smirked, eyes dancing from the blade pointed at his throat, to her face. He tilted his head, straightening his posture, and stepped into the blade.
"Go on then, if you can." He smirked, trying to provoke her. The tip of the blade nicked his skin, drawing blood, "This is your chance."
Clary could only gaze at him, clutching the sword so tightly it hurt. Jonathan sighed, shaking his head, then sprang into motion like a striking snake. He hit her wrists and sent the sword flying to the ground, then wrapped his fingers in the front of her shirt and dragged her up onto her toes. She dangled pathetically, clawing at his hand, but he only laughed.
"And you wonder why father keeps you from the weapons."
"Let go!" she cried, trying to kick at him and furious that Jonathan only laughed at her. The bastard let her hang there, brows raising in amusement until she stopped struggling. He wanted her to know that he was in control, that she was nothing. It worked.
After a long moment Jonathan lowered her, still gripping the front of her shirt, and slid the toe of his boot beneath his fallen sword. He kicked the blade up into the air and caught the hilt, slinging it over his back and into its sheath in a single, fluid motion.
"Show off." She spat, trying again to peel his fingers from her shirt, but his grip was like iron.
"The others have fled." Jonathan sighed, glancing around the room, and briefly at the headless vampire. The corpse was disintegrating as if all the years it had lived were suddenly taking their toll. Clary was lost in the sight until she was lifted back into the air and thrown over Jonathan's shoulder like a doll.
"Put me down you son of a b-"
"Ah ah." He cut her off, giving her backside a quick smack that made her face flame in embarrassment. "That's your mother too, sister mine. Let's not be rude."
Then he was running, and she could only hold tightly to his back as they fled the building. One of these days, Clary told herself, she would kill this monster. He and her bastard father would meet the same painful, sticky end.
She would make sure of it.
I just got the urge to write for this tonight. There's more, but I'm not sure when it will go up. I suppose it's that I recently found out about the next book in the series, which I am incredibly psyched for. I mean, Jonathan isn't dead, we all know that. If there is another book, surely he will make his devilishly handsome appearance.
This makes me weak at the thought. Perhaps once it comes out (it or the prequel) i will have the inspiration I need to continue this story. for now I feel I can only provide a smattering of scenes, both revolting and twisted, which granted are the point of this story, but still. For those of you who are sick like me and would enjoy the idea of a Clary/Jonathan fic, enjoy, because he just too damned hot for me not to ship them. Besides I enjoy the psychological angle it gives this story.
I mean, despite the fact that Jonathan is all that is dangerous and manly, if your brother suddenly came onto you, how would you react? Knowing that at one point she was faced with this same dilemma and decided to pursue her assumed sibling anyway? Promising for me.
Anyway, I write this story with hopes that you will be equally disgusted and intrigued. Oh the fun of twisted relationships. Hoozah!
PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK HERE. I would love to hear both positive and negative reviews. If you are sickened, by all means curse me into eternity. I will take it with relish. :P
-Calamity