16

Jace's POV

"You lost?" Michael's voice is gruff on the other line as I sway nervously on my toes, "The whole team wasn't on their game. There wasn't much I could have done." I opt to leave out the part about my physical altercation with the lineman, but I'm sure he will find out eventually when I am cut from the team.

"And you? Were you on your game?" His voice is firm, and I purse my lips, I know his explosion is inevitable. I wasn't good enough, I know that, and soon he will too, "I guess I wasn't." I hold the phone away from my ear at his blow up, his voice raising as he accuses me of not training hard enough, not trying hard enough, not working out enough. I swear he must be blue in the face due to lack of oxygen. I briefly believe he may be done, but after a moment of pause, he hissed, "I think you're distracted by that little girl you've been chasing around."

"No." I respond quickly. Truth be told, maybe she is distracting me a bit. Between her injury, and her pretty green eyes constantly invading my brain, maybe she has been distracting me a bit. But Clary is a distraction I will gladly take on. No matter what I'm doing, she always seems to make her way into my thoughts.

"Clary isn't an issue," I attempt to reassure him, but I notice no change in his tone, "We will see about that when your mother and I return from our business trip. Invite her over for dinner." He tells me and before I can protest, "That wasn't a request, I'm telling you." With that, he hangs up on me, and I drop my phone onto Clary's bed with a groan.

I have never enjoyed the fact that Michael and Eliza refer to themselves as my 'parents". They aren't. Not by blood, and they never will be. I have parents, they died in front of me when I was 10, and Eliza and Michael will never replace them. Sure, I appreciate everything they have done for me, but they will never replace the void that my parents' death has left in its wake.

I am brought back to my current reality as I am alerted to Clary's presence in her bathroom. I can hear her groaning through her bathroom door, "Red, you alright? Did you fall in the shower?" My voice has a hint of a teasing tone behind it, "Clary?" I ask again when I don't get a response. I hear her let out another loud groan, so I take my chances and push the door open.

She is crouched down on her knees, bent over the toilet, eyes squeezed shut, "Have you been day drinking?" I ask her, to which she responds by throwing a middle finger at me. I hear her let out a gag, dropping her hand and gripping onto the toilet seat.

"Hey now," I drop down next to her, pulling her hair out of her face as she retches. Unsure on how to help her, I let my hand work over her back, my other keeping her hair out of her face.

"The stupid Vidicon," Clary spits, "it's been making me sick since I have started taking it. " She leans back into me, with her back against my chest, "I'm going to need to talk to my doctor about it. My check in is tomorrow," she gags again, a shudder running through her body, "I hope I make it that long." She reaches up with her good arm, closing the toilet and flushing it. I can't help but smile at her crude humor, "Who were you on the phone with?" She asks me, not moving from her position on the floor.

"Michael." I nuzzle into her good shoulder, not wanting to go into much detail about our conversation out of fear of getting angry.

"Mm." Is the only response I get as she struggles to push herself up off of the floor.

I stand up, helping her to her feet. Clary immediately goes for her toothbrush, seeming to be in a hurry to get the awful taste out of her mouth.

I leave her to her own devices as I re-enter her bedroom. The house is quiet tonight, even with Jonathan and Jocelyn home. It's been about a week with us living in the Fray's home, and at this point, I feel like Jocelyn and Jonathan have given up on fighting us. They must have learned that we aren't going anywhere until Clary is healed, and the turmoil is resolved. It is still early in the night, so there is still time for plenty to go wrong.

The hairs on my neck stand up as Clary surfaces from behind me, and I glance over my shoulder at her, "You spoke to your brother today?" I ask her quietly and she groans, "No, I've been enjoying avoiding him like the plague. After my conversation with Luke yesterday, and my mother and brother's disappearing act, I don't trust either of them, and I sure as hell don't want to be around them. I knew I wasn't crazy about someone following me, and I know Luke said not to assume anything, but if Sebastian really is right about Seelie working with the mob, someone definitely paid her to hurt me." Clary starts rambling, "Luke is right Red, you can't assume anything. You will drive yourself crazy with all these wild ideas." I touch the side of her face softly, she just scoffs in return, looking away from me.

In an act of defiance, I grab her chin firmly, turning her head back to me, and I press my lips against hers. I have found myself to be more confident around her. Confidence was never something I lacked, but from the moment Clary and her odd tendencies came into my life, I found myself questioning every move when it came to her. To this very moment, I expect her to shove me away, break my nose, and never speak to me again.

I am pleasantly surprised to find her looping her good arm around my neck, her body pressing against mine, her intoxicating scent putting me in a haze, "I'm not hurting you am I?" I murmur against her lips, and she lets out a light laugh that sends goosebumps down my spine "No."

Unsure of where Clary's boundaries lie, my hands remain still against the curve of her hips. I would like to pretend like I haven't noticed what an amazing body Clary has, but with the level of exercise she partakes in, and the way she can move in the ring, I would be a liar to say I haven't. I can feel her toned muscles underneath my grip, the way goosebumps rise on her skin as my fingers brush across it, the way her breath catches in her throat when her shirt slides up.

I can feel her heartbeat against my body, and in a moment of bravery, I drop my mouth to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses in my wake.

I feel her hand leave my neck, and for a moment I pause, questioning if I have gone too far with her, but when I feel her hand reach my own, gliding down her body, I resume my assault on her sensitive skin. In a smooth motion, I grip her bum in one hand, and bite down softly on her jugular, resulting in a loud moan escaping Clary's lips. I smile against her neck as her hand jumps to her mouth in embarrassment, my eyes scanning over her face as it flushes pink. I love that I can get these reactions out of her, "Turns out you do have feelings." I tease her, pulling away from her slightly, my hand remaining in its rightful place, firmly planted on her ass.

I leaned down to kiss her again, but Clary shoved me firmly by the chest, making me stumble back a few steps, "What the hell?"

I cork my brow in confusion at her, "Someone's coming up the stairs." As if on cue, her bedroom door swings open, revealing Jonathan. The sight of him makes my blood boil- I want to bash a few of his teeth out of his mouth. The only reason I haven't put him in a coma is because of the redhead planted firmly next to me, "Hey, uh," he scratches the back of his head, "I was hoping to have a word with you." Jonathan addresses his sister, clearly uncomfortable under my gaze.

"Go ahead." Her voice is icy and very different from the girl that was in my arms just a moment ago, "Can we do it without your watch dog here?" He addressed me, "No." I respond before Clary, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Down boy." A teasing smirk crosses Jonathan's face as he attempts to get a rise out of me, "Jonathan, this is why I refuse to spend any sort of time with you. You are insufferable." Clary places a hand on my lower back, clearly concerned that I may jump her brother at any given moment, and honestly, between my shitty day yesterday, my phone call with Michael today, and my overall disdain for Clary's brother, giving him a little bit of a rough up may make me feel a little bit better.

"Clarissa," Jonathan starts, ready to plead his case, "For the last fucking time- it's Clary Fray. I left Clarissa Morgenstern in Florida, just like you did. And quite frankly, whatever you have to say has lost all of it's value to me since you're being a prick." She narrows her eyes at him.

"I wanted to talk to you about dad." Jonathan says, his voice has lost all tinges of hostility, and I feel Clary stiffen from behind me, "I don't want to talk about him." She sounds like a child as she speaks, "Clary this is really important, please just listen to me." He comes towards her with an outstretched hand, but I react quicker than him, wedging myself between the two of them, feeling exorbitantly protective of Clary. She has never explicitly said that Jonathan has gotten physical with her, but I know with all the mental pain he has caused her, and his short fuse temper, I don't trust him not to snap at her. Plus, I would never admit it to him, but he does throw a mean left hook. My jaw is still sore from the contact he made with it the other day. Jonathan makes a noise of discontent, "Oh get over yourself Herondale, I would never hurt my sister." Clary gasps at the mention of my birth name, and my jaw sets firmly in a line as I have to swallow the urge to sock Jonathan in the side of the head.

"Jonathan," I spit through my clenched jaw, "why do you know my last name?" He definitely wasn't around whenever I went by Herondale, he shouldn't know, "That's exactly why I am here, trying to talk to my sister, but you two have a stick so far both of your asses, we can't seem to get anything done." He hissed at me, pointing an accusatory finger at me, "Leave it Jace." Clary speaks quietly behind me, her arm wrapping itself around my midsection, "Spit it out Jon." Clary stands next to me, her eyes narrowed to slits as she encourages me to go sit on the bed.

I take a seat on her plush mattress, my arms crossed as Clary stands at my side, "Listen I was talking to dad about you," Clary lets out an audible groan, "he's just curious on how you're doing, that's all. Well, I mentioned that you had an asinine boyfriend," I scoff at him, "and when I told him his name was Jace, he immediately called him a Herondale." This makes my blood run cold in my veins. Why does Clary's deadbeat dad know about my family?

"But that wasn't really the purpose of this conversation. Whenever I brought up Seelie hurting you during the fight, he didn't seem surprised, hell he didn't even seem angry. I was pissed, obviously, which is why I went after her." His eyes go wide at his statement, "You went after her? Is that why you disappeared?" Clary asks, walking up to him. He obviously wasn't intending on telling us that as he breaks into a stuttering fit as he attempts to talk his way out of the hole he dug.

"Never mind that, my bigger concern is that dad seemed content about you getting your ass handed to you. I figured he would be upset and he wasn't."

"Are you surprised? Valentine is a prick." Clary's voice is hard, and my eyes jump between the two stubborn Morgensterns as they stare each other down, "Stop reporting back to him on me. When he left, he lost me, for good. Now get out." I can tell Clary is upset, and that is why she wants her brother gone. Jonathan doesn't reserve the right to see her upset.

Rather than arguing, Jonathan purses his lips, and exits the room without another word. When he leaves the room, Clary drops down next to me with a loud huff, and she lies her head against the edge of my shoulder, "I want to cry." She admits to me quietly, her eyes not reaching mine, "You can, if you want." I respond awkwardly, not understanding how to comfort my upset… friend. I hate that I have to still call her my friend, "They don't deserve my tears." Her voice waivers, "I can't believe he didn't care. She was out for blood, she probably could've killed me, and my dad didn't even care. And Jonathan is basically a spy!" Her voice gets choked up, "He's going to ruin my mom all over again, and then she's going to go through a stupid midlife crisis again, and we are going to move and I am going to lose all of this." Her voice turns panicked as she stumbles over her words.

"I may have just lost my boxing career, my dad hates me, my brother is reporting back to my dad about everything and he's inevitably going to leave again, and I am going to lose everything because of it." The tears start flowing down her cheeks.

"I don't want to lose this," I have never seen Clary show such raw emotion before, and truth be told, it's frightening. I had a complete mental breakdown yesterday, and Clary had to reel me in. I am scared that I won't be able to hold her together when she needs me to.

"You aren't going to lose me." I tell her, putting a hand on the side of her face, which causes her to squeeze her eyes shut as her tears brush my finger tips, "If you haven't noticed, I'm stubborn and selfish, and I care about you too damn much to let you lose me." This doesn't stop her tears from falling, rather, she just lets out a choked sob, and she turns so her head is buried against my chest,my body muffling her sobs.

I kiss the top of her head, rubbing my hand softly against her back, through her hair, anywhere I can reach in an attempt to bring her comfort. She seems to have finally boiled over, everything that she has been keeping bottled up and has finally exploded, "I'm sorry." She mumbled into my chest, "I'm sorry I dragged you into all of this bullshit, I'm sorry I'm too weak to act on my feelings for you, I'm sorry about my family, I'm sorry about everything." She is no longer crying, rather, a shudder makes its way through her body, and she sniffles against my chest.

"You aren't weak," I hug her tightly, "and I don't regret any of this," I press my lips to the top of her head, burying my nose into her hair.

She remains still in my arms for a while, sniffling, her heart beating rapidly as I whisper sweet nothings in her ear in an attempt to calm her down.

When she finally calms down, I feel her breathing even out, and her body relaxes against me. I untangle my arms from her, sliding back so her face is in my full view. Her creamy skin is tear stained, her eyes bloodshot, and her cheeks irritated and puffy, "I, uh," she pauses, her eyes not meeting mine, "I don't want to be your friend." She tells me, her healthy hand finding mine, giving it a squeeze.

"Not if that means other girls will look at you the way I do. We can't kiss, sleep in the same bed, fight each other's battles and be friends. I can't pretend to be ok with that." She tells me, her cheeks still red, but they seem to be from embarrassment rather than emotions, "I like you, more than I think I've ever liked anyone before, and I'm not sure what that means, but I know it means we shouldn't be friends."

"Well…" I trail off, not able to help the smirk that has grown on my face. I'm not sure if I know exactly where she's going, but a guy certainly can hope, "I know that I don't want any hormonal teenage boys looking at you like a piece of meat, and I definitely know that I don't want to stop doing this," I lean down to her, my hand taking holding her cheek as I press a soft kiss against her lips, "anytime soon." I mumble against her, a smile breaking through her hard, upset exterior, "So I guess that means you should let me be your boyfriend. So we don't have to worry about that pesky friend label. Obviously." I say, my eyes holding heavy contact with her green ones, "Obviously." she repeats.

It takes about another hour to calm Clary enough that she is comfortable lying next to me, her eyes trained on the ceiling, her hand rubbing her hurt shoulder softly.

"I want this stupid sling gone, I want my ribs to stop hurting," she complains, before her face goes sour, "and now I am thinking about how much I hate my dad." Any sort of happiness is now absent from her voice, "I didn't think it was possible to hate your own family." She replies honestly.

"No one would blame you if you did." I say against her ear, kissing the soft skin behind it. A sigh escapes her lips, "Maybe I should see him."

"No." I very quickly shut the idea down, "I don't think that would do anything other than upset you." I answer her honestly, propping myself up on my elbow to look down at her in her moon lit bedroom.

"I know you're right." She links her pajama clad leg with mine, "Maybe I should just go to bed."

"I think that is a wonderful idea." I relax back down next to her, my arm finding its way around her hips, remaining careful so I don't accidentally poke any of her wounds. I kiss her cheek, right above where Seelie split it. Most of her facial wounds have healed by now, only her broken bones are left. She lets out a small noise of contentment as she maneuvers so her face is pressed up into the crook of my neck.

I can't help the smile that grows on my lips. Even on our worst days, when things can't seem to go right, Clary always seems to make it manageable, even if she doesn't notice it.