Author's Note: This chapter contains mentions of torture, captivity, sexual comments.
Chapter Four, Part I
Clary sat on the hard mattress with her hands in her lap. The room she had been in for the past day or so was cold and empty, permeated with an odd, thick feeling that seemed to weigh her down and keep her skin prickled with goosebumps. It was the same feeling she got when Sebastian looked at her too long, or a little too closely, like he could read her mind.
She stared blankly at her lap.
She'd awoken maybe two or three days ago, lying on the smooth concrete floor, numb from the coolness of the stone. It took a while to remember how she'd gotten here, and what had happened, the dense fog in her brain like a wet blanket, clinging to her desperately. But her memory did return, and with it, an increasing hopelessness.
She remembered walking home from the Council with Jace, the demon attacking. Then the clawed monster, and faerie knight. She remembered being drugged, the onyx stones that sat where her brother's eyes should be, the way they glowed with excitement. When it all came back, she finally got off the floor, and checked herself over, shocked to find the only injury she had was a small knot on her head, not even sore to the touch. Everything else had healed, including the cut from the demon on her leg.
No wonder I'm so cold, she had thought, moving slowly over to the bed—the only other thing in the room. She had been dressed in soft, black, cotton shorts, and a lacy white tank top, both plain, but still expensive and designer brand, and though her underwear and bra were the same as the other day, she felt no relief at the idea of someone changing her.
She'd shivered, realizing that, no, not just someone. Clary knew who had changed her clothes. She tried hard not to think about it.
Clary had waited since she awoke on the floor, expecting Sebastian to saunter in at any moment to torment her, or announce his love for her, his intentions to rule a world of darkness by her side, but he never came. And neither did food or water.
Her throat was dry as parchment and her stomach ached for food, but it was dull, bearable.
She had hoped to be able to hear something, anything, from outside the room, but she could hear nothing past the thick walls and door. That, or the place had been sound proofed. So, she waited, alone in the colorless, little room.
As much as she wanted to be glad she was alone, Sebastian's absence was of no relief to her. It could only mean one of a few things, and it killed her to admit that Sebastian not visiting her was most likely due to his preoccupation with Jace. It made her thankful for not being able to hear beyond the room, and she hated herself for even having the thought.
She tried not to think about it. Tried not to imagine what was happening to Jace.
But with nothing to do, it was hard to quiet her rampant thoughts. After searching every inch of the room for something that could help her, or be used as a weapon, and finding, of course, nothing, she settled back in the bed.
She passed the time mostly by just staring at the wall, drifting in and out of restless sleep, bundling up under the covers, occasionally wishing she had something to draw with, and then realizing she would be too anxious to sketch anyway.
Clary was still in bed now, losing count of the number of freckles in the stone floor, when the large metal door to the cell opened slowly with a creak. She scrambled to her feet, looking around for something to defend herself with, even though she knew there was nothing. She considered trying to throw the bed, but even that was bolted to the floor. With nothing else, she threw herself at the person entering the room.
Her fist was flying toward the tall, lean figure as soon as he stepped into the room, but he simply caught her punch midair and held her hand tight within his.
Sebastian clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Now, now, Clarissa. That's no way to greet your brother."
She wasn't listening, instead bringing up her other hand to pound on him as she tried to wrench her arm free, attempting to push past him and into the hallway, but he just moved her back and let the door slam shut behind him.
"Dammit! Damn you!" She shouted, throwing another volley of blows, but Sebastian only calmly twisted her arms behind her back and shoved her hard so she landed on the bed. She quickly rolled onto her back, scrambling away from him until she hit the thin headboard with a thud.
Sebastian smiled. They both knew she was helpless here. And in her state, there was no use in fighting him without a weapon. She took a deep breath, straightened herself to look less small, less afraid.
"Where are we?" she demanded, hardening her gaze. Her brother sat down at the edge of the bed, stretching his legs out casually, like he was tired of standing. "Hidden somewhere no one will find you," he stated simply. His white hair was ruffled, appearing a bit longer than when she'd last seen him.
"What do you want with us?" Clary was thankful she was managing to keep her voice steady, and Sebastian quirked an eyebrow.
"Us?" He narrowed his eyes, looking very much like a hawk eyeing a field mouse. Anger bubbled in her chest, and it must have shown, because Sebastian smirked. "What makes you think I took you and Jace both?"
"Because you're fucking obsessed. And vindictive," she hissed, but he just laughed again, tipping his head back as if she'd just told him the funniest joke in the world.
"I want to see him. Now."
Sebastian's laughing calmed, and he sighed at her, before slowly unfolding his hands, turning them so his palms were up and presented to her. They were stained a dull red, as if he'd tried scrubbing the stains away for a bit before giving up. And now that she looked, really looked, she saw it all over him, small specks of blood that he'd clearly missed when washing up—or intentionally left for her to see—bright against his pale hair, darker against his black shirt.
"What did you do?!" She shrieked, no longer able to force an even voice, curling her hands in the blanket to try and stop their trembling.
"I don't think you want to see him right now. He looks pretty…." He paused, twisting his hand in the air, as if searching for the right word. "...Pretty rough," he settled on.
Clary's stomach twisted, and she felt something inside her snap. How were they ever going to get out of this? There was no way to fight him, not without a weapon. She needed her stele. Hell, she needed an atomic bomb to wipe Sebastian off the face of the Earth. But she didn't have either. She didn't have anything. And Jace was suffering for it.
She felt a wave of dizziness rock her, and she closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed to press them to the floor, hoping it would ground her. This was all her fault.
This was all her fault, and she wasn't going to get out of it by panicking.
She clenched and unclenched her hands, closed her eyes tight, taking in a long, deep breath. Sebastian said nothing, but she could feel the weight of his eyes on her. She kept breathing, slower with each inhale, until the bed shifted, and she heard Sebastian move over the covers.
A hand came to rest on her shoulder, and it took all of her will not to flinch away, or raise a hand to slap it off of her. But when she didn't resist, Sebastian moved closer, until he was sitting beside her, his arm heavy on her back.
She refrained from curling her lip. Who was he to comfort her, when he was the one who fucking put her here?
Clary stood slowly, at last opening her eyes.
Her best bet was a stele, and if she remembered correctly….
She turned back to Sebastian slightly, teary, and surely pitiful looking, and he frowned a look of what appeared to be genuine confusion before standing up with her. She looked down at the floor as he came closer, and when he was inches away, and she hadn't hit him or tried to run, he wrapped his arms around her. This time, she couldn't help but tense, and it made him hold her tighter.
She forced herself to relax.
"That's it. Let me be here for you. That's what a big brother's for, hmm?" Sebastian's deep voice vibrated through his chest, and it reminded her of Jace in a sickening way, how it felt to lay her head on his shoulder when he whispered lowly to her at night.
"I am so glad I found you," he whispered into her hair, "and that you are finally taking your place."
"My place?" Her voice was thin, barely audible. She felt smothered this close to him, and she realized her arms were still awkwardly at her side before grimacing inwardly and sliding them up and around him to return the hug. Clary could feel the muscles in his back tighten ever so slightly under her hands, perhaps surprised by her reciprocation, or disbelieving of it, but the tension was gone as quick as it'd come, and he sighed deeply.
"Finally mine," he hissed, voice thick in relief and satisfaction, and whether it was to himself or to her, she didn't know. A shudder tried to work its way up her spine and she buried it, hugging him tighter to stop a tremor from rocking her, brushing her fingers down past the small of his back as casually as she could.
Sebastian moved above her, lifting his head from where it was resting on hers, his hands snaking up to her hair. "Look at me, Clary," he ordered. But she couldn't bring herself to do so, couldn't be this close to those black-portal eyes, couldn't bear to see Jace's blood smeared and faded in his hair.
She turned her head and pressed her ear flat against his chest, surprised to hear the faint, steady beat of a heart, nearly human sounding, and again shifted her arms behind his back, fingers brushing softly along his belt. He used to keep it here, she was sure, a slim pouch, a sheath no longer than her hand.
"Clarrissa, look at me." One of his hands knotted in the curls at the base of her neck, and just as he began to lightly pull there, to force her face up to his, her fingertips grazed smooth leather. Following up the small deer hide sheath, she nearly gasped in relief feeling the chilled adamas metal under her fingers.
Just as she'd remembered, it was still where Sebastian kept his stele.
What happened next was over in an instant. She let her head be pulled back, until she was looking up at her monster of a brother, and just as he let go of her hair, shifting his palm to rest at her cheek, she snatched the stele free of the sheath. Sebastian seemed to realize at the exact moment what was happening, his face darkened as he twisted his arm behind him to grasp her wrist.
But he was too late, and with momentum she managed to slip her wrist free of his grip and swing her other arm up, elbow striking his chin. There was a satisfying clack of his teeth snapping together from the force of the strike, and the resulting shock on Sebastian's face allowed her just an instant of freedom from his arms—it was all that she needed to spin away with the stele.
Sebastian growled in rage, furiously wiping at his jaw with his hand, as if he couldn't believe she'd hit him. "I should've known." His glare sent her back up to the wall, but he didn't move to return the attack. "What are you going to do with my stele, Clary? You can't portal out of here. There is nowhere to go."
Clary flicked as many runes onto herself as she could while he spoke, everything and anything that came to mind: agility, stamina, strength, equilibrium, courage, speed. She could feel her body strengthen with each glowing stroke of the angelic pen, the hunger and thirst eating away at her dispersing, her unfocused mind from hours of nothingness sharpening to a point. In the end, she knew it wouldn't do much in a head on fight with Sebastian, but all she needed was to get to the door. One step at a time.
"I'm much more dangerous with a stele than a sword, Jonathan," she raged, and though it was true, she usually had a bit more time to figure out a plan.
Sebastian glared at her, seeming unimpressed, and she figured now was as good a time as any. She clenched the stele tight in her fist, and charged at him with a renewed strength, her left arm nearly entirely gold light as the runes pushed her forward.
Her first punch was a feint, and Sebastian blocked it with his arm just as she'd hoped, allowing her to dodge easily to the side when his opposite fist came straight for her. She ducked under the blow, before barely dodging a kick, sliding underneath Sebastian's leg, and in one fluid movement, rolling back onto her feet and continuing for the door.
Already knowing the door was locked—whether physically or magically was of no importance—as she reached it she thought of all the runes that could be used to break it down, the image of one in particular jumping rapidly to the front of her mind. In the split moment that she decided to use it, she couldn't even recall its name, only knew it was the right one, altered and amplified to be just what she needed.
She pressed the stele to the door, breathless, pushing her intention through the adamas as she'd done so many times before, conjuring her will and forcing it through the instrument as she rapidly drew the mark in mind.
Just a few more swooping lines, and she would be free. She would throw the door open, and the first thing she would do is find Jace. She had to. And this rune would be what let her.
It was a mark of freedom, of liberation, of an openness so pure she hoped it would blow Sebastian's entire hideout down. And she hoped to all the angels that the crumbling building took him down with it.