Chapter 61: A bit of a time jump. Clary's finally back on her feet and ready to kick her plan into high gear. She's prepared to play dirty, but is it really something she's capable of? She can never seem to let go of her misplaced guilt and empathy for Jonboy… and he knows it. He always seems to be a step… or three ahead of her. Obviously, Camille can't be trusted. He really needs to get what's coming to him… LEMON ALERT- just a dream. Endgame is coming up soon. I know, I know I said that before, but that was before I decided to give Clary a baby.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: sex, Mention of drugs, abuse, non-con. Remember the rating is MA.
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: "I think I could have loved you once. But now all I feel around you is fear, sorrow, distrust, and I think I hate you now. I've only hated one person in my life and you are just like him. You're just like Valentine, Jon. You've treated me the way he treated my mother. Don't you get that?"
One Month Later
Clary pursed her lips and blended the wings of a dark faerie, making them dissolve into a colorful wind. She had been working on a portfolio of new designs for Magnus all week. He had decided it was time to remodel Pandemonium, opting for a Fae motif, consisting of the lore of the Unseelie and Seelie courts. There would be themes of tumult, war, carnage, passion, peace, and light versus dark imagery, of course. God I love his imagination. Instead of using her studio at her penthouse, she had opted to work at the New York Institute's Art Center, where she had a much bigger studio space than at home. It also made it easy to teach her art classes at the Children's Center, which was a simple elevator ride down to the first floor. Aline had finally cleared her to return to her normal, everyday activities this week. The subchorionic hematoma had resolved itself, as they all had hoped. It took longer than Aline predicted, so her restrictions lasted a whole month. Luckily, Clary had no residual issues and was quite relieved and excited to be free. So was Jace. They had missed being intimate and couldn't wait to spend some quality time together that night. She was tired of Netflix, reading, her penthouse, and everyone fawning over her like she would shatter. She smiled. I need sex.
Her timer went off on her phone and she looked up at the clock. She had to go to her weekly therapy session with Camille and him in a half-hour. Luckily it was only about three blocks away. An easy walk… if I can convince Aaron. This would actually be her first face to face therapy session with Jonathan. Due to her activity restrictions, she had to participate in their first two sessions via zoom. Clary felt nervous and frustrated. It wasn't easy to get him to talk about what happened in Idris or speak of it as it really happened. He glossed a lot of it over when prompted. Romanticized it. Sick fuck. She needed him to admit to being Sebastian, Halloween, specifics about Idris, trying to murder Jace, what he ordered Pontmercy to do to her. Amatis... Both the IUD removal and messing with her memories. I want him to understand how much damage and hurt he has caused me. Feel it.
She, Camille, and Maia had formulated a plan to get Jonathan to expose himself and his crimes via therapy sessions with Clary. He seemed to want to talk to her about their good times together, hoping to win her back. He's so obvious. Camille had advised Clary to pretend to consider allowing him to co-parent their child and be included in her pregnancy milestones. Clary didn't like it, but she was willing to try anything to entrap him. Maybe acting so angry towards him wasn't helping. Camille said it made him more defensive and on guard. She encouraged her to try to act like she was trying to help him for the baby… making peace. Pretend that she was willing to forgive him, if he truly tried to change. The problem with that was, secretly, she wanted that to be true… a part of Clary still cared for him and hoped he would change. She pitied him because of what Valentine… and her mother did to him. She didn't want Valentine to win by keeping Jonathan's soul. Stop it. That was when he was a little boy… he's a man now and needs to be held accountable for everything. She had to be careful… her empathy for Jonathan could be her downfall. He had easily used that and manipulated her in the past... right into his twisted prison of a bed.
Maia was building a case to present to the Clave of Idris, the country's governing body. The hope was to expose his crimes to them and have his ambassador status revoked, to be able to prosecute him or at least get him permanently deported from the US. Preferably the former. This was difficult as Jonathan's empire had such a tight hold on Idrian politicians, businesses, and the media. They would do their best. Every session with Camille was being video recorded. Maia had also received all unredacted copies of Clary's medical files, thanks to her nurse in Idris, Ruth Brightman. Also, finally, Alec had provided them with a perfect DNA match between Jonathan and the rubber mask she had pulled from his face on Halloween night. They had been able to get a sample from a water bottle when he was being held after his arrest at Central Park. Before they let him go because of his ridiculous immunity. He's no fucking ambassador.
Jace had fought hard against her plan to entrap and expose Jonathan. He feared it would trigger him and make him reactive and hurt or kidnap Clary. She had stayed firm, telling him she couldn't live like this anymore and drastic measures had to be taken. She promised to keep him informed of everything and never go anywhere alone with Jonathan. Jace hadn't seemed convinced and told her he, Will, and Alec were working on something as well. I've heard that before. It's not that Clary didn't believe Jace, it was just that he and Alec would do everything by the book. If she'd learned anything in Idris, Jonathan Morgenstern did nothing by the book. I have to play dirty like him.
One thing she had not shared with Jace yet is that Maia told her that she may have to present in Idris to testify to the Clave against Jonathan, since Clary was also an Idrian citizen as well and heiress to the Fairchild holdings. It was something that terrified her… to return to Idris after– everything. But, to be able to stand in front of the Clave of Idris… the country that her mother had to flee because she had no rights against her tyrant husband– simply because of an archaic law, making women the property of their husbands. Clary knew that all Idrian men didn't subscribe to such beliefs, but the fact that they could implement such powers over their wives was ludicrous… a violation of their human rights. She felt obligated, as a foundling Idrian national, and actual victim of these disgusting laws to go on record, in their legal system, to try to evoke change. She felt it was something her mother would want her to do… and her Aunt Amatis. As for Jace… She would tackle that fight when she had to. Jace will just have to understand.
Clary had resumed her private face to face therapy sessions with Camille yesterday. It had been good to see her and talk through her stresses and feelings about her traumas, pregnancy, engagement, and her plans for Jonathan. As usual, Camille had put her under for hypnotherapy for the last half hour. Clary usually awoke feeling refreshed and confident and Camille would give her mental goals to work on until next time. Yesterday, however, she awoke feeling mentally drained, as if she had fought something or had a nightmare. She asked Camille about it and was told they had discussed Valentine and her mother while under and Clary had become emotional. For some reason, it didn't sit well with Clary… as if there were more to it. Weird. Then, last night she had a dream… or a nightmare that had shaken her to the core.
In her dream… She awoke naked from a deep sleep with strong arms wrapped around her, Jace's head buried between her breasts, licking, kissing, sucking them… His hardening want grinding against her center. "Yes, baby…" Clary moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, her arousal taking control of her body. With closed eyes, she tilted her head back and arched her back as his wet kisses traveled up her neck and jaw. Clary panted as he stroked her inner thighs and pushed her legs apart, then moaned as he plunged into her to the hilt. He grabbed her face in a strong grip and pulled her into a fierce kiss, devouring her moans. He began growling and thrusting hard and deep into her heated center, kissing her just as ferociously as he fucked her. Clary ran her hands through his hair and felt her muscles clench and flutter, her orgasm coiling deep inside of her. She rolled her hips and met each of his thrusts with wanton abandon. It had been too long. He thrust harder than ever, pounding into her as she arched her back and screamed as she came violently around him. "Oh god! Yes…" He growled again, pumping voraciously into her, emptying himself deep within. Clary's eyes flew open and she saw Jonathan slowly moving up and down above her, still inside of her. She started to struggle out from under him. "Where's Jace?" He bruisingly gripped her face, as he slowly finished his thrusts and covered her mouth with his. "Thank you for forgiving me, Clarissa. I love you and our child so much. Everything is perfect." Clary shook her head as he leaned down to kiss her swollen belly. Clary felt a strong compulsion to kiss him back, and she did. "I do forgive you… it wasn't your fault. It was Valentine's. I love you, Jonathan and I belong to you…" He smiled lovingly down at her and covered her mouth with his again, stealing the air from her lungs. "Verus Amor, Clarissa." Clary had cried out and sat up in her bed shaking from the nightmare and embarrassingly aroused. Jace had awakened and held her to soothe her. One thing had led to another and they had made-out quite heavily, without actual sex. They kissed and kissed… She had teased and stroked him mercilessly, while Jace paid special attention to her breasts, leaving a few marks. He had been quite fixated with her breasts lately, as they expanded, just as her belly did. Such a guy. Afterwards, she had clung to him and they cuddled, but she didn't tell him about her nightmare. He wouldn't understand, she had thought. I don't really either.
Shaking off thoughts of last night, Clary took off her smock and washed her hands. She looked at herself in the mirror. She, Simon and Izzy were going out to lunch after her session and she had tried to look more herself. She had styled her hair into long waves and wore a pretty lilac and sage floral knee length sundress with spaghetti straps and comfortable brown sandals. Perfect for a June lunch. The dress had been a gift from Izzy. So, of course, it showed more cleavage than she liked, but accentuated her growing belly well. She felt pretty and she hadn't felt that way in a while. Clary turned to the side and rubbed her hand up and down her belly, feeling a tiny kick. She smiled and hummed. Mommy loves you my wee one. Everything I'm doing is for you, sweet love.
Jonathan leaned against his Iridescent Emerald sports car in front of the art center. He had paid for parking for the next few hours because he doubted Clary would let him drive her to their appointment. He picked up his phone and listened for a bit. "Perfect. I'll try it soon. I'm glad you finally understand it's best to cooperate with me. Report to Pontmercy. See you soon." He hadn't seen Clary in person since her stay at his clinic after the elevator incident and he missed her. He knew from his spies that she was off of restrictions and was working out of a studio at the Institute Art Center and would even be teaching again. He smiled, remembering how passionate she was about teaching young children about art. She will be such a wonderful mother… I just have to figure out a way to get her to come back to me. We need to be a family… just the three of us.
Jonathan's face lit up as he saw Clary appear in the lobby, her back to the doors, talking to the boy at the counter. She threw her head back and laughed, shaking a finger at him. The boy blushed and nodded at her. He's flirting with her. Jonathan pursed his lips. Jules? Yes… the boy who is infatuated with her. She's taken, you little shit. Clary turned around, texting into her phone and walked through the doors towards Jonathan. His eyes widened. She looked gorgeous in a flowing lavender… no, lilac and sage… sundress. Her growing belly added to her ethereal beauty. My beautiful wife. She carried her usual overstuffed messenger bag and a long cream colored shawl. Her hair was styled in long silken waves, dancing around her as she walked with her eyes on her phone, texting. He looked down at her impressive cleavage. Damn. I want to touch her so badly. The front of her dress was lower cut than he usually saw her wear and her breasts were much larger and so round– He jumped and his eyes shot back up to find a very annoyed redhead glaring at him. Oops.
She hummed, then blushed, slipping her shawl over her shoulders and chest. Boo. "What are you doing here, Jon? Besides ogling my boobs like a fucking teenage boy… we're supposed to meet at Camille's office, not here." She started to walk down the street towards their appointment, three blocks away. "Clarissa, wait! I'm sorry– I just wanted to offer you a ride. It's threatening to rain and I don't see an umbrella sticking out of your bottomless bag. There is something I want to talk to you about…" She scoffed at him and turned away to continue walking. He ran up beside her. "I'm serious, Clarissa. You can tell Aaron about it or he can come too, whatever. It's about your mother's art… there's– amends I'm trying to make as part of my– therapy…"
Clary stopped and turned to look at him, a wary look in her eyes. He ran his eyes over her face. It was a bit fuller from the pregnancy. He liked that too. She narrowed her emerald eyes and sent a text off. Probably to her bodyguard. "Fine, Jonathan. I've texted Aaron and Jace, so don't even think of trying any-fucking-thing. If you do, I will pepper-spray you, throat-punch you, and the NYPD will be called, got it?" She wiggled her fingers in front of his face, showing him a silver ring with a tiny canister and tag attached. He smiled when he saw that her keychain tag read Brooklyn, Bitch! Jonathan nodded and walked beside her to his car, opening the door. "Of course, Clarissa. I want us to make progress. I want to be better for you." I love how aggressive she's become. Such a turn-on. Clary furrowed her brows and hummed. He moved back, allowing her space to get in and closed the door. He inhaled deeply as a waft of floral perfume washed over him. She smells so good. Jonathan smirked to himself as he rounded the car to get in. It's time for our own little hypno-session, Clarissa. Just a little test. Let's see if Camille came through for me. If not, well… she'll have to be punished.
Clary swallowed nervously as Jonathan pulled out into traffic towards Camille's office building. What the fuck are you doing, Fray? She had texted Aaron that she had a ride to her appointment and that Simon and Izzy would pick her up for lunch afterwards. She texted him to "Go to Taki's and take a break for a few hours. Try the coconut pancakes! Please!" He had responded. "Okay. Just remember we have a tracker in your phone so don't go to a rave or skydiving!" Clary liked Aaron. He had a good, dry sense of humor. But, she tired of being followed around. Jonathan pulled into the parking garage beneath the office building, where Camille's practice resided on the fifteenth floor. Parking the car, he took a deep breath and turned towards her. She turned to look back at him. He looked good, as usual, in a black button-down shirt, faded jeans, and his signature Doc Marten combat boots. He's not wearing his Morgenstern pendant or ring. Interesting. "What's so important that it couldn't wait for our session, Jonathan? I'd like to get inside." Jonathan hummed and nodded. "We still have almost thirty minutes before our slot, Clarissa. But, I have an offer to discuss with you. It's about your mother's gallery in Idris–"
Clary shifted in her seat, rubbing her belly and grunted lightly. Jonathan frowned and leaned forward, reaching out towards her. "Are you okay? You're hydrated, fed, taking your meds and vitamins, right?" She nodded and half-smiled. "Yes, yes. Jon, I'm doing all of that- I'm fine. It's round-ligament pain… basically growing pains. – and the baby is moving a bit." Jonathan raised his brows in question, looking at her with begging eyes. What harm is there? I know he would never hurt me while I'm pregnant with his child– Also it may get him to be more vulnerable and forthcoming at our appointment. Clary leaned forward a bit and took his hands, putting them on her belly. She kept her hands over his and looked down at her belly. Her wee one moved again and she felt Jonathan's hand twitch as he gasped and laughed. "That is amazing, Clarissa. I– I can't wait to meet our child… hold him or her. How is it possible to love someone you haven't met yet?" He tried to rub her belly. Clary cleared her throat and gently removed his hands from her, looking down. A strange guilt coiled in her chest. Is he truly capable of love? Does he deserve redemption… to be a father? I think not… he's been too damaged. She scooted further away from him. "Please continue what you were saying before, Jon." Clary took out a water bottle and sipped from it.
Jonathan furrowed his brows at her curiously, noticing her conflicted expressions. Am I getting to her? Thanks to Camille, I know she's trying to bate me and out me to the Clave, blah blah… naughty girl. She has no idea that I own everyone in the Clave… but a little fake-trial could be fun. AND she would have to come to Idris. He cleared his throat and looked at her. "As I was saying, Clarissa. I wonder if you would like to have your mother's art from Idris? With you uh– in New York and Amatis'… diminished mental capacity, there really is no one to care for the gallery properly… it would be an honor to donate it to the New York Art Institute. Of course I would cover all expenses, including the construction of the gallery space. I know how much the art means to you… you should have it all." Jonathan reached out and took her hands in his.
She looked shocked and tears filled her eyes, her lips quivering. Shit. I hate it when she cries. "Jonathan… Do you really mean it? Or is this one of your–" He put a hand on her cheek and wiped a tear away. She pulled away from him and wiped them herself. "Please, Clarissa. Don't cry. I've made you do too much of that. Of course, I mean it. I told you. I'm trying to make amends. I know it doesn't heal things between us… I just want to do something for you and our child… the art is part of both of your legacies." Clary looked across at him in the dim car thoughtfully. "Thank you Jonathan. I accept your offer. Moving the Idrian gallery to her chosen home is great idea. We can set up details later this week. Now, um– we should go in. I like to be early to appointments."
Jonathan smiled and nodded, stepping out of the car and walking around to her side. He opened the door and held out his hand to help her out. She tentatively took it, as she had trouble getting out of low cars now. Standing up, she quickly tried to step away from him, but stumbled. Jonathan quickly slipped his arms around her before she fell. He tightened his arms, stealing a hug and smelling her hair, before she disentangled herself from him, shoving him back roughly. "Stop it, Jonathan! I'm fine." It felt good to hold her again… especially when her pregnant belly pressed against him. Mine. Time to see if Camille lives or dies.
"There is just one other little thing I have to say to you, Clarissa." She looked up at him, impatiently, slipping her water bottle back into her bag. "What is it, Jonathan?" He stepped closer to her and looked down into her eyes. She frowned and scoffed, obviously ready to slap him. "Verus Amor, Clarissa." Clarissa stepped back quickly, looked confused at first, and blinked up at him. Jonathan raised his brows at her. Shit. it didn't work… Then she relaxed and dropped her bag on the ground. She smiled expectantly at him and waited. "Verus Amor, Jonathan." Oh shit, it fucking worked. Jonathan smiled, picked up her bag, wrapped an arm around Clary, and led her toward the elevators. "Let's talk on the ride up, Clarissa."