The four of them stood by the curb. It was dark now, the street lights shining sickly down. Besides present circumstances, it was a pleasant evening to be out. Clary was sulking but had reluctantly agreed to leave her phone behind.

"Mrs. Fray?" Simon ventured, "I just want to say I think you're so brave. You went through a terrible thing and raised a daughter who, if I may say so, is not too shabby–"

"Hey!" interjected Clary, but Simon ignored her. "–And you didn't let it drag you down. You painted and now you're totally famous!" Jocelyn had a devoted following of patrons who bought her works.

"Aww, Simon." Jocelyn pulled him into a hug.

"It's true!"

Clary turned away from them to ask, "Luke, you'll be careful, right?"

"I will," he reassured her.

"I still have a lot of questions, you know," she added.

"I'm sure."

"But… even though I just found out the truth about my dad, he's not really my dad, you know?" And it's not because he's nuts. It was the same even when I thought that other man was my dad. The military man."

"This must be confusing for you."

"I get why Mom lied, but yeah, it's confusing. But I'm really happy you came back to Mom and I. That you stayed, and you took care of me, even though you and Mom aren't together. So yeah, you're more my dad than this guy." Clary shuffled her feet, looking down at the ground.

"Oh my God! That's so touching, we should have brought some tissues! Mrs. Fray, do you have any tissues?" Simon exclaimed.

"I do. That is very sweet, dear," Jocelyn agreed.

He thought of himself as her guardian. Jocelyn had called him an uncle at first but he didn't care for it, and it gave Clary the wrong idea: "Is he your brother, Mommy? Is he Daddy's?" So he was simply Luke, but he and Jocelyn disagreed about what Clary was to be told about their past, her heritage. Then adding his own awkwardness with Jocelyn: his rejected marriage proposal to her; her not wanting him to come with her when she left Idris. Even when he found them again, Jocelyn wasn't sure she wanted him to stay. Even after she agreed he could, he wondered would she later change her mind. Or, if she met someone and wanted to get married, would that change things?

He still remembered when he first saw Clary, butting in front of her mother the first time he came to their apartment, when Jocelyn and he were speaking at the door. "She looks a lot like me, doesn't she?" Jocelyn said with a laugh, but at that moment Luke was too awestruck at the sight of her to find it amusing. She undeniably looked like her mother but she was something else, something uniquely her, and somehow Clary saw him too. She'd stared at him the longest time and Luke stared right back. "I don't know what's gotten into her, she's not normally like this. Honey, say hello."

"Who are you?" Clary asked instead. He gave her the name he'd been using for awhile at that point – Garroway – and Clary introduced herself with her unfamiliar surname Fray. He and Jocelyn sat and chatted, Clary nearby drawing with crayons. Then Clary interrupted their stunted conversation appearing at his knee and dropping her drawing onto his lap. "It's you," she needlessly explained, and it was humbling to have his battered and weathered frame rendered by a child, hair scribbled in and going every direction but she'd mixed two blues to get his eyes the shade she wanted them, and he knew like her mother, her drawing wasn't a phase. He wanted to stay and see what she got up to, if Jocelyn allowed him to. He'd been here a decade.

"It's important to me, to be here with you. You too, Simon," Luke affirmed to the two of them.

"Group hug," Clary announced, starting it by wrapping an arm around Luke, who pulled her close by the shoulders. Simon barreled over next, putting an arm around Clary, and then Jocelyn completed the circle by ringing Simon around the waist – he was already taller than her – and her other arm around Luke's, who still towered over them all.

"Oh, I think that's our taxi now," sighed Jocelyn, pulling away. "I hate goodbyes. We'll be in touch. Take care of yourselves!"

"Bye Simon, try not to come up with too awful of a band name while I'm away," Clary advised.

"Try not to get any shorter while you're away," Simon shot back.

Clary raised her eyebrows. "That's a low blow."

"Literally. Low, short, get it?" he explained, satisfied.

"I'm stopping talking to you – Bye, Luke!"

"Bye, Clary. Everything'll be alright."

"Yep, just some minor technical difficulties. The show must go on!" The two women got into the cab, rolled their windows down and waved, while the two men watched the cab pull away and off down the road.

"Come along, Simon. I'll give you a ride home."

"Thanks, that was emotionally exhausting. I am emotionally exhausted right now."

It wasn't long to Simon's, and he was quiet at first, gazing out at traffic until he muttered, "This is like something out of a movie." Luke looked over to him, his brow was uncharacteristically furrowed, and asked, "You alright? That was a lot to take in."

"Yeah, it's just – you'll think this is stupid."

"Try me." He couldn't do anymore for Jocelyn and Clary, but perhaps he could alleviate some of Simon's worry.

"Well, when I first met Clary and I found out her dad had died, I felt like I wasn't so alone. No one else I knew had lost a parent. Sure, people had divorced parents but no one's parent had died. Clary was okay, so I could be okay without my dad too."

"...And now Clary's father isn't dead." Luke filled in the blank.

"Yeah. It makes me sad. I know the situations are totally different but it makes me wish my dad could just pop out and be like, 'Oh, hey, there was a misunderstanding. I'm back!' Is this making any sense?"

He could say that Simon and Clary were strong enough to survive not having that in common, but that wasn't really the issue here. "It's alright to miss your father, Simon."

"Aww shucks, and I was already emotionally exhausted." Simon attempted to joke, wiping his eyes, while Luke parked. "Thanks for the ride."

Luke nodded. "I'll be in touch. Tell me your number quick." Simon did, and Luke sent him a message so he'd have his too. "Rest. It's been a trying evening."

"I will. Popcorn and TV marathon coming up," Simon replied, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes, then opened his door, stepped out, only to pause before closing it. "Um, are you going to be okay? Are you worried Valentine is going to show up again?"

"I'll be okay."

"Okay." Simon hesitated. "Well, talk to you soon."

"Say hello to your mother for me."

"Will do!" Luke waited as Simon walked to his front door. As he was getting his key chain, the door opened revealing his mother. She hugged her son and waved to Luke. Luke didn't envy the earful she was about to hear, sorry so many others were caught in past business but he waved back, then drove home.

After all the commotion it was jarring to be in silence. He'd been fairly calm while talking with Jocelyn, Clary and Simon, even with Valentine but now he was restless. He meant what he said – he would follow Jocelyn's wishes – yet the weight of all the lies was a burden. He had also repeatedly said things would be okay. That wasn't so much a lie, but hope for an outcome not yet determined.

Luke entered the kitchen, made himself the sandwich he was going to earlier, and sat down. He didn't feel much like reading, but he didn't want to go out, not with Valentine nearby. He'd put off doing the cleaning around the house and shop, but now he wiped, scrubbed, vacuumed. Let his mind go blank. It was late when he was finished, and he wondered if it was safe to sleep. Would Valentine try anything? Did he know where Jocelyn and Clary were going? Luke figured Simon would be left out of things. Valentine wasn't one to stoop to taking hostages, especially a mundane. It also didn't fit with his personality to kill him in his sleep. Why bother announcing himself, if he was going to do that, and they had the meeting set up tomorrow. With that uneasy reasoning, Luke turned out the lights.