Chapter 54: Remember the rating is MA. This story is going to get crazy. Clary is finally getting that there is something wrong with her. Trust me, it's all building up to a dramatic ending. I'm just twisting the angst. The ball is next chapter… with a lot of Jace.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: violence, drugs, NON-CON elements
I do not own any of the characters, only the illustrious Cassandra Clare owns them. I do, however, own this particular story, so please don't be lame and copy/paste it elsewhere.
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Previously: "Doctor Pontmercy and I shall rectify any doubts or falsehoods from my wife. Much thanks to Amatis for teaching us how to move forward with the mind conversion protocol. I tire of having to work so hard to make her realize where she belongs… Father had the right idea about Jocelyn."
Jonathan removed his ruined coveralls and stared at his college chum, Matthew. He hung limply against the wall, beaten, and bloody, his pretty-boy face in ruins. All it took to get him to talk was cutting off one of his pinky fingers. Boring. The rest of it had just been for fun. Of course, Jonathan had slit his throat after everything was said and done. Loose ends and all that. Apparently, Jace fucking Herondale was still alive. Thanks a lot, Lake Lyn. Matthew had graciously told him that he had given a cell phone to Clary so she could call Herondale and that they would come for her soon. He didn't say when, though. Jonathan figured it would be at the ball. How pathetically predictable. Surprise, surprise. My wife is lying to me. Herondale has poisoned her soul with his mercury. No matter. She won't give a shit about Herondale in a few hours. She'll know nothing but me.
Clary finished her blueberry smoothie. One of the servants brought it to her when she got to the gym. Apparently, Jonathan asked that she have one before working out. Jonathan's orders. She rolled her eyes and drank it while she stretched out. She hadn't been able to eat much at lunch after talking to Matthew. Will's spy had stopped her before she got to lunch and pulled her into the hall behind the dining room. He told her that the plan was a go. Will's team, including Jace would be coming in with the caterers and blend into the crowds of the ball, not unlike the gala. She needed to get the cellphone from the wardrobe from her old room and somehow keep it handy, in case Jace needed to reach her. That would have to wait until she was done working out, since he had been watching her all day. She told Jonathan she wanted to sketch alone this afternoon and he had agreed to give her privacy. One more day.
She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail and mounted the stationary bike in front of the mirrors. Her ankle still felt stiff, but seemed to loosen as she slowly peddled. Jonathan had suggested a light workout on the bike, after talking to the physical therapist on staff. He seemed to be on to her ruse about her ankle injury, so Clary didn't argue with him. She was surprised he hadn't confronted her about it. Don't trigger him. He's been in such a good mood. Probably because he thinks Jace is out of the way. I can't wait to see him tomorrow night. I just want to go home.
She saw Jonathan walk in the gym in the reflection. He got on a treadmill and started to jog. As usual, his eyes were fixed on her. Can't he ever just leave me alone? He stared intensely at her. Clary fake-smiled at him and peddled faster. She was still reeling from their impromptu sex-session in the state room after breakfast. What the fuck was that? Why did I do that? She hadn't intended for it to go down like that. I couldn't stop myself. How was he able to melt me like that? I need help… psychological.
She had tried to get in his head and manipulate him, the way she had been able to in the past. During one of their gala meetings, Tessa had once advised her to use her sexual influence over Jonathan– to make him think he had won, so he would relax… make mistakes. She tried to bond with him, to gain more trust, so he would be more relaxed around her… give her more freedom. She wanted him to feel empathy towards everything his family had done to hers. I need to be able to move freely tomorrow night at the party. She had tried to make him see how wrong all of it was– what his father had done to her aunt… to her. To him. She hadn't been able to keep her cool and he figured her out, obviously. He reads me too easily. Fucker.
He had somehow turned everything around and– shared his own honest feelings. He had shaken her by sharing his pain about being left behind with Valentine. Unless he's just that good of a liar. She had felt so bad for him… so guilty. She had been raised in a loving home, by the woman that could have loved and raised him. But she hadn't. And Clary felt the sting of what that rejection had wreaked on Jonathan. She hadn't meant to kiss him, but she did. She had been consumed with consoling him. What the fuck, Fray? Who got in who's head? Never again. I have no strength here. Maybe I do have Stockholm Syndrome…
The next thing she knew, she was more than willing to let him have her, and she had cum so fucking hard. Twice. It wasn't supposed to be like that. That wasn't me. She merely wanted to make him think he had her again. I'm not supposed to like it or want it. I can't wait to get the fuck out of here tomorrow night. I need him out of my head. I want his– everything away from me. Clary needed to distance herself from him and the sick feelings she seemed to have for him, when they were together. He got into her head too easily… broke her down. Again. It was easier to fight him when she feared and hated him– when he forced her– when he was Sebastian. But when he was loving and vulnerable with her– when she was reminded why he was like this. It made her weak. And he capitalized on that weakness.
She felt culpable– guilty for having the happy childhood that he also deserved. She wanted him to heal. To be who he should have been. Stop it. This is exactly what he wants you to do. He will never change. He had proven that when he made her say it, afterwards. 'I love you, Jonathan and I belong to you.' The reminder that she was his possession… that he's still Sebastian too. Don't fucking forget that. What if we fail again tomorrow night… he'll win again. He fucking played you. He's breaking me. I'm tired of fighting him.
Clary slowed down, feeling winded, she felt a headache coming on. He's beyond redemption. He's just twisted. Drop the sympathy for Jonathan bullshit. You're being a damsel… stop it. I need my friends. I need Simon and Izzy. Jace. I need help or I'm going to fucking lose it. Maybe I already have. Neither my body or mind are safe here. He fucking owns me here. She flashed back to having sex with him on the couch… his hands caressing her, his enormous–, his mouth on her. His gorgeous smile. "We belong to each other.' His kisses. Oh my god. Stop! What's fucking wrong with me? Whore. I can't breathe. Am I having a goddamn breakdown? Clary began to gasp for air, whimpering, her ears roaring. "STOP!" Clary screamed, as her head began to pound and her feet tangled in the pedals. I'm falling. Panic attack.
Clary whimpered when she felt strong arms pull her off of the bike. It's him again. She screamed and struggled wildly, as Jonathan pulled her to the floor and pinned her down. "Clarissa! What's wrong? Jesus... It's me– calm down!" Clary blinked up at Jonathan, her heart pounded and she felt tears running down the side of her face into her ears. Shit. "Get off of me, Jonathan! STOP!" Her head was splitting, as she trembled and her vision blurred. My fucking head. She heard Jonathan yelling orders at someone. She screamed again and turned her head to see Ruth, her nurse, run from the gym nodding. "Don't go. Help me!" Clary shook her head and kicked her legs. Wait? Who's Ruth again? Jonathan straddled her torso and took her face in his hands, shaking her head. "Clarissa. Look at me. Listen, love. It's me. Breathe, darling. In and out… Slow" Clary frowned and pulled her head back, hitting it on the floor. She saw stars then looked at the man hovering over her. He had black eyes and white-blonde hair and looked concerned. Handsome. He looked familiar. She didn't like him.
Clary's breathing started to even out and she closed her eyes. My head. Worst migraine. She heard the man's deep voice again. "You're going to be fine, my love. I'm here, Clarissa." Love? "I– I don't fucking know you! Let go, creep! Help!" Clary screamed in pain as her migraine worsened. She squirmed beneath him, trying to buck him off of her, and saw colorful spots taking over her vision. Clary felt liquid drip from her nose. She wiped it with her fingers and saw that it was blood. Am I having a fucking aneurysm? The blonde man continued to hold her down, whispering calming words into her ears. It wasn't helping. She felt she couldn't trust him. Clary grunted and slapped wildly at him, leaving bloody hand prints on his chest, neck, and face. He sat up straight to yell at an approaching man."What the fuck is going on, Pontmercy? She's in agony and fucking bleeding! She doesn't even know me! I don't want her mindless like her goddamn aunt." Who is he talking about? Clary went limp beneath the man, pretending to give up.
Clary closed her eyes again and heard another man's voice. Someone felt her pulse in her left wrist. "It's the onset of the cocktail. The drugs are baselining her, wiping her clean. These memory issues and pain will not last, Jonathan– think of her state as more like a puzzle with missing pieces that you get to complete with your own, new pieces. Tabula Rasa. You only have about four hours to fill in her blanks, as we discussed. We should get her to the infirmary. She needs to be isolated, stabilized, wired, and restrained for the next dose." Wired? Restrained? No! Who the hell are these people? Am I getting trafficked?
Clary began to thrash violently. "You're not doing shit to me, you goddamn psychos!" Screaming, she swung her casted arm across the blonde man's face. She heard a crack and felt pain in her arm. He grunted and fell off of her. Clary scrambled up and ran towards the exit. In the mirrors, she saw a man in a white coat with scruffy brown hair help the blonde man up. Is that a doctor? Where am I? Oh fuck! Clary burst out of the gym into a long hallway and started running towards daylight at the other end. She saw a smiling woman step out in front of her and catch Clary in her arms. Amatis? "Help me! They're coming. We have to run– you…" Clary gasped and grabbed her head in pain. Ow! She crumbled to her knees, blood dripped from her nose, the words dying in her mouth. The woman shook her head, smiled sweetly down at Clary, and patted her back, then lifted her up in an embrace. She pulled a cell phone from her pocket and waved it in front of Clary. Who was she again? "I found this in your rain boots again, precious heart. That Jace boy is no good for you… You belong here in Idris, with your husband. Oh Clarissa, everything will be perfect, if you just let it happen. You'll be fine. Jonathan loves you so much. You're such a lovely couple." Jonathan? Jace? What the fuck is going on?
Clary shook her head in confusion and struggled against her. "Let go. I need to go–" The woman was so strong, it was unnerving. She heard heavy footsteps behind her and she turned her head to see the blonde man and doctor. The blonde man, Jonathan? had an angry bruise forming on his left cheek and looked pissed. He's bad. Get away. Her ears roared, knees buckled, and her head spun, as the woman passed her over to him. She tried to run, but her legs would not obey. Clary frowned when the woman handed him the cell phone. "Jonathan, I found this in Clarissa's wardrobe. So many shoes… such a lovely couple." He took the phone, raised his eyebrows at Clary, and pocketed it.
Humming, he scooped Clary up into his arms and spoke to the doctor, then looked down at her. She put her hand over her eyes and started to cry. It felt like something was scraping her brain behind her eyes. The light hurts. "Make it stop. Please!" He hoisted her up higher in his arms and nuzzled his face into her neck, inhaling deeply. "Clarissa, it's me, darling. This is for your own good, my love. I'm sorry for your pain. You'll feel so much better in a few short hours. I love you so much, remember that." Clary whimpered and slapped his face. "Fuck you– Oh god, it hurts so much. Please make it stop. I can't take it anymore." She closed her eyes and started humming, then passed out.
Jonathan laid Clary onto a hospital bed, while Ruth undressed her and attached restraints. He helped her put a hospital gown on Clary's sleeping form. She awoke and cried out as Ruth set up IV access in her left wrist. Jonathan tried to soothe her, putting his hand on hers. She turned away from him. "Don't fucking touch me. I hate you." Jonathan pulled his hand back and sighed. The nurse seemed very nervous and stared wildly at Clary while she cleaned off the blood from her face and hands. It was as if she were trying to tell Clary something. He had noticed how close she and Clarissa had become lately. Jonathan turned to her and she jumped. "Ruth, you can go. Come see her tomorrow. We can take it from here." Ruth nodded and swallowed nervously, turning to leave the room. "Clary whimpered. "Please, ma'am. Ruth, is it? – stay. Help me." Ruth looked back at Clary with tearful eyes and walked out.
Pontmercy approached Clary and injected a fluid into her IV. "It's just a little something to relax you, Clarissa. Now sleep." Clary's eyes fluttered and she quickly fell asleep again. Jonathan cut his eyes angrily to the doctor. "This had better not hurt her any more, Portmercy. I want her to be herself, like we discussed. I just need her to be obedient. She's still holding herself back from me… because of him. I know she has feelings for me–" The doctor hummed and hung a small bag of solution and hooked the tubing up to Clary's IV. He calibrated the dosage and started the infusion. Jonathan watched nervously as the liquid traveled through the tube and into his wife's veins.
Dr. Pontmercy turned to Jonathan. "Sir, the infusion will take thirty minutes to finish. When she awakens, repeat the script we worked on, show her the pictures, and keep her focused on you, just as we did with Amatis. I'll be here to oversee the process. Remember, this is temporary. It will only last a few days, then her actual memories will be more likely to clear up. We can do it again then, if you wish. Unlike Amatis' debacle, Clarissa's is a mild treatment. Based on her reaction to the first dose that we put in her drink, she should be responsive to phase two. Just stick to your script and it should work. I've used the exact cocktail that Valentine had formulated for Jocelyn. It's meant to influence, to fool existing memories. Alter them… not brainwash. She will not be harmed." Dr. Pontmercy attached electrodes and metallic stickers on different areas of Clary's head, syncing them to the tablet in his hands. He took out a pair of surgical shears and gently snipped through and removed the staples from her head. Jonathan reached out and took Clary's hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. "You better hope this works. For your sake, Pontmercy." The doctor smiled tightly. "Let us begin."
Jace lunged off of the couch towards her. Clary screamed and fell back on her elbows as he slammed his hands on the table top on either side of Clary's thighs and climbed over her, looking deep into her eyes. She gasped and leaned further away, accidentally falling to her back on the table. His eyes glittered angrily and he growled. "You're Mine." Clary shook her head and started to cry and pull her arms away from him, but his strong hands held her in place and pushed her down as he pressed on top of her. Her dress rode up as she kicked her legs. "Get off of me, Jace...stop!" He shook his head, burying his face in her neck. "No baby. Stay… You're MINE."
Gold eyes, Gold hair, Gold beard, pinning her to a table in darkness… biting her, crushing her… "Tonight, you can call me–. You're MINE." Clary gasped as Jace grabbed her wrist, spun her around, and twisted both of her arms behind her, like she was under arrest. "Jace, what the fuck are you doing! Ow– let me go." He pressed against her and kissed behind her ear. "Not gonna happen, baby. You're MINE." Clary cried out as she felt the click of handcuffs on her wrists. Jace pulled her from the wall and scooped her over his shoulder.
Clary's eyes shot open and she sat up in the middle of her giant bed, gasping. It was just a nightmare… about him. Why won't he leave me alone? I broke up with him months ago. Abusive psycho. He keeps coming to try and take me away from my husband. Jonathan will protect you. She looked at the window. Why is it dark? What time is it? She scrambled over to her table and turned on the lamp. There was a picture of her and Jonathan from their wedding. Where's the clock? She quickly looked down at herself and saw that she was wearing a purple negligee and she had a new smaller cast on her broken arm. She ran her hands through her hair feeling the right side and felt a raised incision scab. The back of her head felt tender. Did I hit my head? The staples are gone. When? How did I get here? I don't fucking remember even coming upstairs. I was in the gym. Clary's heart started pounding and she got out of bed, running over to the house phone on the desk. Next to the house phone was a cellphone. She picked it up and saw a selfie of her, Jon, and Master Takada from New Year's Eve on the lock screen. I guess this is mine. It's 10:16. Where the fuck did my day go?
She quickly opened it and called the only person in the world she could trust. "Yes… It's me. I need you. I'm scared.." Trembling, Clary hurried to the wardrobe and went in, closing the door. She saw rows of Jonathan's clothes to the left and hers to the right. She pulled her negligee off, quickly put on undergarments and pulled on a pair of leggings. Clary felt terror building in her chest. Why am I so scared? I have to get out of here. I think I'm in danger. She slipped a dark blue velour pullover on and sat on the bench to pull on socks. She looked for her runners and furrowed her brows, looking around the wardrobe. Where are all of my shoes? There were rows of Jonathan's boots and athletic shoes, but her side had been emptied, except for her house slippers. Weird. She jumped when she heard her bedroom door open. Shit. Please be him.
Clary cracked open the wardrobe door to peek out and screamed and struck out blindly, when someone pushed it all the way open. Jonathan caught her arms in his hands. Clary gasped and relaxed. He looked her up and down, his eyes wide with concern. "Clarissa! It's me, love. Wh– why are you hiding in the wardrobe?" Clary gasped and threw herself into his arms. "Oh my god, Jonathan. I was so scared. I feel unsafe for some reason… I woke up and couldn't remember coming upstairs. My cast is different, my staples are gone. What the fuck happened?" Jonathan stepped back from her and led her to the bed. Sitting her down, he squatted between her legs, resting his hands on her thighs. "Clarissa, love. You're trembling. You look terrified." He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head up at her.
Clary shook her head and took a deep breath. "I had nightmares– about h-him. About what he did to me. How he hurt me… He just kept saying 'you're mine' over and over. I'm so afraid he'll come to take me away from you again… he's obsessed." She ran her hand over her broken arm. "The last time I nearly died in the accident at Lake Lyn." She couldn't remember much about the accident… or what happened before that. Clary frowned. Something was off, but she couldn't say what. She took another breath and put her hands on his face, then gasped. Jonathan's left cheekbone was swollen and bruised. "What happened to your face?" Jonathan looked down and sighed.
He stood up and climbed on the bed beside her, pulling her onto his lap to face him. Please tell me it worked. She's been asleep for hours. He reached forward and cupped her face, softly kissing her lips. "Darling, what's the last thing you remember?" Clary relaxed and closed her eyes. "I remember leaving our room to go to lunch. You were going to meet me there and then we'd go to the gym… right? Then… Well, here we are. Jon, I'm actually having a lot of trouble remembering a lot of things… I think? I'm really confused." Clary opened her eyes and frowned in confusion, licking her lips. Good. I can work with this. Jonathan stroked her cheeks with his thumbs and looked into her worried eyes. "Clarissa, you did go to the gym and ride the bike, like we discussed yesterday. I was running on the treadmill when you cried out. You started hyperventilating. I rushed over and pulled you off the bike before you fell. You were having a full blown panic attack when I got to you and started thrashing about. You accidentally clipped me with your cast, which cracked." Clary gasped and leaned forward to feather kisses over his hurt cheek. Jonathan laughed lightly. She's so tender. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Jon."
He kissed her lips again. "It's fine. I'm fine– There's more, kitten. You started to complain of terrible head pain and acting hysterical. I called Dr. Pontmercy and Ruth in, but you thought we were attacking you. You tried to run outside, after you hit me– then you fainted. You hit your head on the floor. We took you to the infirmary and Pontmercy ran tests. He didn't find anything alarming, just that your electrolytes were off. But, with your recent head trauma and nightmares, they triggered a severe migraine and another panic attack. You've had them for a while, as you know. Clary frowned in confusion. Ever since Jace last attacked you, that is. The doctor sedated you, gave you IV electrolytes, and took out your staples. He also gave you a new, less cumbersome cast. I had to go to a meeting with business associates, so we um… removed your shoes from the closet, in case you tried to run again. It's dark and there's so much forest on our estate, that I feared for your safety. I'll be sure to have them returned tomorrow, love."
Clary looked down at him with wide eyes. "That is a lot to digest, Jon. I mean really out there. Uh– Should I expect this to happen again? Maybe we shouldn't have the ball tomorrow night? I don't want to freak out on anyone…" Jonathan smiled knowingly up at his wife. It worked. He knew that if she was faking it, there was no way in hell she would ask to cancel the ball and miss her chance to escape with Herondale. "No, Clarissa. We'll have the ball. I have a feeling he may come tomorrow night and try to get to you. I don't want you to worry, though. I've already got plans in place to have him arrested and hopefully sent back to New York. You just look beautiful and enjoy your introduction to Idrian society tomorrow night, my love." Let them come into my home and try to take her from me. I will kill them all before that happens.
Clary walked into the bathroom and turned on the bath water in the giant tub. She heard Jonathan call the kitchen and order a late dinner to be brought to their room. Something felt very off. What can't I remember– I don't even know what I'm trying to remember. All I can think about is that I love him and– something. She took off her clothes and placed them in the hamper. She covered her cast with the waterproof sleeve that Jonathan gave her. Turning, she jumped to see Jonathan leaning against the doorway. He was naked and aroused, staring at her intently, running his eyes up and down her body. "Pour the lavender bath oils in, Clarissa. Your favorite…" Blushing she picked up the bottle and squeezed it into the tub, watching the bubbles foam. Jonathan eagerly stepped forward and helped her into the tub. Scooting down behind her, he pressed his arousal against her back. He hummed a slow tune as he began to lather and run his hands over her body. Clary inhaled deeply and frowned. The lavender scent was not pleasant. It made her uncomfortable for a second… she had a flash of a man grabbing her most private area in the bath and crying out in pain at the assault… then it was gone. Did Jace do that? Clary pursed her lips. I don't think so. Why is my head swiss cheese? Jonathan leaned forward, nuzzling her neck, kissing it up and down. "What are you thinking about my kitten?" Clary felt compelled to answer him, but couldn't. It was as if she forgot a line in a play. I have to say something– but what? She wiped a moist cloth over her face. I can't believe I forgot. She turned to kiss his lips, smiling. "I'm thinking… that– I love you, Jonathan and I belong to you." He smiled triumphantly and returned her kisses as she giggled. "And I love you, Clarissa. We belong to each other."