I wrote this a looooonnng time ago and I'd thought I'd post it to tide you over while you wait for the epilogue for The Art of Kissing. So I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A lot of the flashbacks were taken from the original book City Of Bones and a quote or two from the movie. The definition for the rune and the parabatai chant were taken from Cassandra Clare. She owns all I am nothing.

The flashback about the Battle is all mine.

Other news: City Of Fallen Angels comes out in the US of A tomorrow! YAY!

Clarissa Garroway couldn't remember much about her life. Sure, she remembered the small things; her mother teaching her to ride a bike and Luke helping her climb a tree, pumpkin carving on Halloween and almost every Christmas she had ever celebrated.

Almost.

It seemed like after the age of 15 Clary couldn't remember much; it was like looking at a black screen, from ages 15 and some of age 17. She didn't remember where she got her favorite black leather jacket—she suspected it was a male coat since it seemed to drown her small frame but Jocelyn never said anything— or where she got her calming rock, the one she kept in her pocket at all times and rubbed her thumb against constantly.

Or where the ring, which lay against her chest dangling daintily from the silver chain around her neck, even came from.

She was never certain if it was supposed to be an "M" or a "W" but it didn't matter much either. Much like her calming stone, she kept it because it gave her peace of mind. It made her feel less lost in a strange sort of way.

"Clarissa!"

Clary glanced over her shoulder with a scrunching of her nose. She didn't know how many times she had to tell Kristy that she liked to be called Clary, not Clarissa. Her tall friend bounced down the street toward her; the large glasses, bohemian dress, and shoulder bag made her look more hipster than geekish.

"Hey," Kristy let out a puff of air as she fell in step with Clary. "I've been calling you for the last, like, thirty minutes."

Clary, who couldn't raise her eyebrow for the life of her, gave her friend the best sarcastic expression she could muster. "Really? Thirty minutes?"

"Yes."

"It couldn't have been thirty minutes."

Kristy huffed as she yanked her shoulder bag higher up on her shoulder, a piece of dyed black hair fell in front of her eye. "It certainly felt like it."

Clary let out a laugh as she let her head fall back and bathed in the glowing sunlight. Kristy had only been Clary's friend for a short while and since Simon Lewis, Clary's actual best friend, seemed to have vanished without a trace; the small girl was all she had. Though her height was much taller than Clary's, Kristy always insisted on wearing 7 inch heels; something Clary couldn't even fathom.

When Clary had woken up in a new apartment, her mother and Luke engaged and Simon gone; she panicked. Her parents had looked at her with concern before taking action, they had taken her to see a psychologist but from that moment on Clary couldn't remember a thing. She remembered being in Brooklyn and approaching the large apartment complex and seeing dark black hair and glitter and the glowing yellow eyes of a feline. . .

But other than that it was very blank again. So, her "parents", since Luke was almost her legal step father and he had certainly always been her only real father figure, had told her to live life as best she could and that time would be her only way of healing.

Only several days later, she had met Kristy who insisted they knew each other from Clary's past. The black hair and tall height of the girl triggered something in Clary's mind; almost like she had seen her before. Like there was a word on the tip of her tongue but she had no idea what it was; like there was an image in the back of her mind that she couldn't see. But she had believed her; finding no other choice but to trust the girl's words and Clary's misted mind.

"God, why is it so sunny out!" Kristy complained as she threw the dark jacket she was wearing over her head.

Clary let out a laugh at her unorthodox friend. "Usually people try to soak up the sun, not hide from it." She said as Kristy grumbled beside her. "They even made a song about it."

Kristy stopped in her tracks, her eyes flashing. "Don't even think of singing that stupid, idiotic—"

"I'm gonna soak up the sun. I'm gonna tell everyone. To lighten up, I'm gonna tell 'em that. I've got no one to blame—"

"If you don't stop now, I'll give you something to blame it on." She said snidely. "You can blame it on my fist in your face."

Clary ignored her friend as she continued to sing. "For every time I feel lame. I'm looking up. I'm gonna soak up the sun!"

Kristy let out a loud, feral groan as she walked onward, Clary giggled from beside her. She could smell the pollution in the air and the scent of other people's perfume, cologne or body odor. It fell thick like smug over the busy streets of New York City. She could hear the vendors call out commands to get a hotdog and the gossip of two women walking with their heads bend down. She could practically taste the fresh coffee that was being grinded in the small café they walked by. It was tiny and in front of the room was an even tinier stage where a boy was reading something as he swayed and lifted his gaze upwards.

"I'll get the coffee if you find us a seat. What do you want?"

"Just coffee. Black—like my soul."

Clary stopped dead in her tracks, Kristy continued walking telling a story Clary hadn't been paying the least bit of attention to. She blinked furiously before looking back at the homely coffee shop. She knew that one voice in her head had been her own, she was sure of it. The other, she was pretty positive, had been Simon's. But when had they even entered—she glanced up at the flickering sign, the "n" in Jones completely out—Java Jones? Or she should say Java Joes. She didn't remember the mix-matched furniture or the scraggily old couch that sat precariously in the middle of the room. The boy took a bow from the stage as Clary watched in confusion, the crowd mixing between snapping and clapping.

She didn't ever remember entering Java Jones, though she couldn't remember much anyway. Was this from her past? Was this a moment that had been taken away? Would it tell her a secret of where Simon had gone? Her parents had told her he simply moved but she couldn't bring herself to believe it. Before she could stop herself she pulled the handle to the coffee shop's door, it creaked and let out a chime as she entered. The gust of cool air causing her hair to fly backwards felt good against her heated skin. She watched with wide eyes as another person took to the stage, this time a girl, as she flattened her skirt and tapped the microphone.

"Hello, I'm Gina and my poem is called—"

"Untitled. Come, my faux juggernaut, my nefarious loins."

"Please don't tell anyone I know him."

"Who uses the word 'loins'?"

Clary could hear the tone in her voice, the care-free nature of it all. She felt her mind slowly unlocking if only for a moment to remember when she had walked into this café, her stomach full of Mexican food from Nacho Mama and her feelings of anger at her mother for suggesting she spend the summer locked up at Luke's ranch. She looked down and noticed her outfit was completely different now; the boots that should have been in the back of her closet were on her feet and her green t-shirt was covered by her army coat, her jeans slightly rolled at the ankles. She watched as the grey haired man sitting just behind the large, ruined couch turned into a pretty blonde her eyes locked on a boy, who was nonchalantly striding to the barista's counter.

"Simon." Clary felt herself whisper, the image was a punch to her stomach. He looked so real, but she knew somewhere in her mind that he wasn't. His glasses laid haphazardly on his face as his hair swept across his forehead, his skin unblemished by time or imperfections and the t-shirt he wore as sarcastic as any he owned: "Made in Brooklyn."

She missed him more than she ever thought she would as she watched him walking back towards the ruined couch holding two cups of coffee, his face distorted in pain.

"I hate it when they run out of mugs. Those things are hot."

It was as if he was right there talking in her ear as if he were sitting right beside her on that torn and tattered couch. The door chimed as it opened again and blew another gust of warm air at her, pushing some of her curls around her head. The sound of a hesitant cough, like when someone is trying to conceal a laugh, followed the wind to her ear.

"I was laughing because declarations of love amuse me, especially when unrequited."

Clary felt herself suck in a breath. A flash of color blinked behind her closed eyes and she felt her body respond to that single sentence, her pulse quickening and her heart hammering as if it were meant to be out of her chest and in the hands of someone else. She could almost feel the touch of fingertips caressing her face and the soft, fluttering feeling of lips against her own; so tantalizing and soft like a whisper.

"Clarissa?"

The world seemed to snap back, like when you pull back a rubber band and let go. Her mind crashed as her eyes fluttered open and she sucked in a breath.

"My heart is a never ending stream of blood and tears. Seep through my veins, dear music, and fill me with your benevolent touch." The girl upon the stage continued; the blonde sitting at the edge of her seat behind the old couch vanishing back into an old man; the past returning to the present. Kristy stood in front of Clary, her body looming over hers and her dyed black hair falling in front of her face harshly. Her eyes flashed anxiously, her hands tightening and loosening into fists.

"What is it, Clarissa? Did you think of something?" Kristy asked

She felt her face break out in a large grin as she smiled up at her friend, Kristy's eyes flashed with excitement as Clary opened her mouth. "No," She said as she walked with slow strides to the front counter. "But I would love a cup of coffee."

Kristy's face fell, her eye lids closed tightly as her eyes flashed with mirth. "Alright, then I'll wait outside for you."

Kristy left with her back stiff and her muscles tensed as she threw the door to the shop open with more force than it should have taken. Clary frowned to herself; she couldn't understand why she hadn't been able to say it. She'd known Kristy long enough and it wasn't as if the taller but thin girl had ever done anything to make Clary question her trust. Sure, Kristy had lied about little things like about the tattoo on her back and the fact that she definitely dyed her hair black. But they weren't anything horrible.

With a shuttering sigh, Clary trudged toward the counter and ordered a coffee she really didn't want. The woman behind the counter gave her polite smile as she greeted her. "Hi, welcome to Java Jones. What can I get you today?"

Without hesitation as if pulled by some unknown force Clary opened her mouth and the words fell out. "Coffee." She said. "Black."

Like my memories.

Clary gave Kristy another wave as she took a sip of her dark brew and headed up the freshly painted—surely her mother's doing— yellow porch to the old farmhouse that they now called home. She took the steps two at a time, pounding her feet against the wooden boards and sloshing her coffee on to her hand. She let out a hiss as she transferred the cup and waved her hand up and down trying to cool the pain.

She pushed open the screen door and looked around the room confused. Usually her mother and Luke would be in the kitchen making dinner about this time, laughing as they diced and chopped; asking Clary about her day and then teasing her about homework. Which, she never had much of because the majority of her classes were art classes.

"Mom?" She said in a small voice as she walked into the desolate home. "Luke?"

She was just about to give up and start on the English paper she had to start writing for Mr. Hinter's class when she heard the voice of her mother and Luke out on the back deck. Luke had built the deck not too long ago, he had said that it would come in handy for the future, though she never truly understood what he meant by that. She supposed if they were to ever have a barbecue it would come in handy but her mother and Luke never seemed to have any friends; all they ever really needed were each other.

Clary smiled as she walked towards the back door, pausing when she heard another chorus of voices she couldn't name. She'd heard them before she was sure, but they were faceless people in her mind. Like any artist, all she truly got were colors and right then her mind was whirling with dark blues, blacks and the striking color of gold.

She crept closer, not to disturb the voices, as she tried to encode them with her mind. A deep voice, almost shy and humble, spoke up. Her mind flashed with bright blues of all different hues. "We understand that, Jocelyn. But you can't keep them apart any longer."

"It's killing him." Another voice much louder and higher, almost shrill, spoke next. Her tone was of desperation and Clary closed her eyes in concentration trying to remember where she had heard that voice before. "Can't you see? It's killing all of us."

"We can't stay away any longer. It's been a year, Jocelyn." Clary felt her body fill with air and the ice that encrusted her veins start to pump with blood; her heart pounded in her ears as she listened to the honey sweet voice of the other male speak. There was a softness in his tone, a shattering of something that he was trying to hold back. Like if they would dare turn him away he would break. "I can't stay away any longer. Please, don't ask me to."

There was a cracking in his voice that propelled Clary forward, as if by some unseen string, his breaking heart called to her to fix it as if she were the only one who could. She pushed open the door with a quick shove not entirely understanding what her body was doing and why her heart and mind seemed to be disconnected all together.

"Mom?" She said hesitantly as she stepped out onto the back deck, the sun still high up in the sky and her coffee completely forgotten. Her mother looked at her with wide eyes from her place lounging against the front of the grill. "Luke?" She looked to her, almost, step father with confused eyes and furrowed eyebrows as he turned her gaze with a steady one of his own. Like he knew she had been listening, like he knew when she had gotten home. It wasn't unlikely Luke always seemed to know where she was, she had always joked he had ears like a bat to which he would answer that he, clearly, had ears like a wolf. "What's going on here?"

She watched the two teens, much taller and prettier than she was, as they stared at her with wide eyes. Both were dark haired they had to be twins, the boy's eyes being a deep blue while a sea of emotions swirled in the girl's dark brown eyes. They watched her like one move might make her break as if she were something so fragile they never wanted to touch her in fear that she would shatter and disappear.

"Clary!" Her mother, as if snapping out of a trance, walked forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "I didn't hear you come home." At this she looked up and glared at Luke, who met her gaze and dropped his own slightly as if guilty of something.

She brushed her mother's hand off her shoulder and walked toward the two dark siblings in fascination. "I've seen you before," She paused and turned her head to the side questioningly, her blood red hair falling in front of her eye as she did. "Haven't I?" She whispered the words, much too afraid to say them out loud. What if it wasn't real? What if they were all in her mind?

The two siblings shared a look before both staring over her head for a moment. Clary turned and watched her mother as the older woman glared at the two teens before hesitantly meeting her daughter's eye. "I'm sure you've mistaken them with—"

"No," Luke stepped forward and crossing his burly arms over his chest. "I don't think she's mistaken." He narrowed his eyes on his soon-to-be-wife before they soften and looked down at Clary. He sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose and running a hand through his tousled brown hair. "I think she's spot on."

Clary blinked in astonishment, she'd never heard her mother and Luke fight before. They usually agreed on everything, which was really making the situation that much more confusing, as she looked from the two teens to Luke than her mother before starting again.

Jocelyn narrowed her eyes before brushing a curl from her cheek and placing a hand on Clary's shoulder again. "Yes, well as my daughter, I think I know her and what's best for her a little better than you."

"Do you?" Luke questioned. "Because I don't think this is better for her." He shook his head. "No better than it is for the rest of them." He sighed and ran a hand down his face as Clary stared at him in horror. Was he talking about her past? The past that she couldn't remember? Did it involve those teens? And who was this "them"?

Luke didn't say anything for a moment as her mother's fingernails dug into Clary's shoulder, everyone staring at him as if daring him to continue. "You weren't there, Jocelyn." He sighed again before lifting his head and meeting Clary in the eye. "You didn't watch them fight and win only to lose everything. To want and crave something they thought they couldn't have. To watch their hearts breaking for something that was supposed to be forbidden." Clary blinked as her mind tried to grasp at the words he was saying and paint a picture of it in her mind but she had no idea what he was talking about. All she knew was pain; it was all she felt. Like her heart was being slowly ripped from her chest. "They fought too hard to lose like this, especially him." Luke trained his eyes beyond her shoulder and Clary felt the pull to look and see what had Luke transfixed take over her. Again, her body and mind separated and she found herself turning her head before she truly wanted too.

She gasped as she locked eyes with the most radiant boy she'd ever seen. His features were almost too beautiful to possibly be real as his golden eyes seemed to drink her up; his skin seemed to brighten as if seeing her were giving him life again. Her calming stone felt heavy in her jean shorts pocket and the necklace around her neck seemed to weigh as much as lead as she stared at him. It burned against her neck as his eyes trained themselves there as if trying to see through her clothing to the necklace that lay underneath. Her chest was heaving as if she couldn't get enough air and her heart was hammering in tune with her sputtering pulse. She felt like she'd just ran a mile rather than just simply locked eyes with an outrageously attractive boy.

Her mind broke open, like a bursting dam, blurry memories took over her; drowning her and overwhelming her. She felt like she was suffocating as images that were too confusing and unclear assaulted her. She let out a cry as her hand instinctively went to her head. She clenched her hair tightly and watched as the golden boy ran forward, his eyes over flowing with distress, concern and trepidation.

The boy let out a cry as he caught her just before her knees gave out, his arms folded around her enveloping her in a rush she'd never felt before and, if her mind wasn't tearing itself apart, would have taken more pleasure in. His arms seemed to fit around her body perfectly as if the Angels had molded her frame to fit in his arms. There was a sense of familiarity that was etched in his touch as he cradled her.

"You see, you are mine, little sister. My sweet, sweet baby sister. You have no choice; it is just the way of the world. We were made to be one.

"Forever."

Clary didn't know who was speaking in her head, but it made her stomach twist and churn. It made her skin crawl as the voice spoke close to her ear as if he were there before her. His skin was too hot as it made her neck clammy. She felt something wet slide down her neck as she let out a whimper of fear; though nothing was truly touching her.

Before everything went silent.

"You can compel me to one action, Clarissa Morgenstern. What is it that you want? If you have a request, Shadowhunter, speak it now. And remember that I am not a genie. Choose your wish wisely."

"Jace."

The voice in her mind was compelling, like a record spinning around a track; she knew it was a memoryof sorts. She knew she had heard these words before. She recognized her voice when she answered, but who was Jace? She didn't know who the faceless boy was in her memory but she wanted too.

"Close your eyes, Clarissa Morgenstern."

Clary felt her eyes shut as the world around her went dark.

Clary. Clary. Clary.

"Clary," She heard her mother in her ear as she clenched tightly to the pillow behind her head. She was having a magnificent dream and she simply didn't want to be pulled out of it. "Open your eyes."

"Clary, open your eyes." She could feel his breath against her ear and moved the small curls that lay against her temple. The shiver that raked down her spine was unstoppable as she leaned into him. She could see the blurry outline of a boy and the illuminating color of gold; it hung around his head like a halo. She could hear her own voice though it sounded like the boy was speaking underwater.

"You're alive," She whispered. "Really alive."

"I was in the dark. There was nothing there but shadows, and I was a shadow, and I knew that I was dead, and that it was over, all of it. And then I heard your voice. I heard you say my name, and it brought me back."

"Not me. The Angel brought you back."

"Because you asked him to. You could have had anything else in the world, and you asked for me."

Clary felt herself smile, having no control over her body as she moved toward the blurry figure leaning over her. "But I don't want anything else in the world."

"Clarissa, honey, wake up."

Numbly, she opened her eyes and glanced up at her mother who was sitting at the edge of her bed, stroking her hair. She smiled down at her with a sad smile and Clary frowned as she sat up, the irritation of being woken from a lovely dream gone. "Mom? What's wrong?"

Jocelyn sniffed before shaking her head and wiping her eyes. "Nothing." She sat forward a moment as if in thought, fighting herself on if she should say something or not before she turned back obviously making her decision. "Have you ever regretted something you did?"

Clary rolled her eyes. She was a teenager that was practically their motto. "Of course I have."

Jocelyn nodded again not seeing the humor in it like Clary. "I want you to keep in mind that I love you. Very, very much. And everything I've done was to keep you safe." Her mother turned back to her and lightly wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Mom?"

"Just remember that, okay? Can you do that for me?" Clary nodded as her mother leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Good, now get your butt out of bed, young lady." She smiled brightly, looking more like herself. "You're going to be late for school."

Clary nodded as she watched her mother leave. Had yesterday really been a dream? Had she walked in her house and fallen asleep in bed and made up all the other things? But those teens had seemed so real. And she felt that nagging feeling like she had seen them before. And what about the blonde boy? She couldn't have possibly made him up, right?

She sighed and rolled out of bed. All she knew for certain was that she was extremely attracted to the gold eyed teen that had been on her deck but the boy in her head, the one that circled her memories. The one without a face and voice too muffled to really make out. . .

She was in love with him.

Clary pushed another curl that escaped her messy bun away from her face. She was trying to pay as much attention to Mr. Hinter as she could; but she couldn't find it in herself to care as to why you had to put commas in sentences. Her mind kept lingering back to her dream; where the blurry boy with the golden halo and black marks seemed to take refuge. She was intrigued by him; but more so than that she felt connected to him.

The whole thing was quite twisted; how could one be so obsessed with a person that seemed to originate only in her mind. Maybe her parents were wrong and she really was on the brink of insanity.

The bell sounded loudly as Clary gathered her papers, most of which were the drawings of a beautiful, mysterious, blurry boy without a face. Stuffing her things in her backpack, she heaved it onto her shoulder and quickly walked towards her locker hoping Kristy wouldn't find her before 5th period. Ever since her weird dream with the three outrageously beautiful teens, Kristy had made her feel uncomfortable. Being around her set her hairs on end and shivers to work down her spine as if something wasn't quite right about the girl; as if there was something dark in her eyes.

Not for the first time did Clary wish that she could see Simon but her parents told her they had no clue where he was. That he had simply just moved without a word, left without a trace. Clary still didn't believe them. She didn't know exactly why they were lying to her but she was fearful to find out too. What if Simon was dead? At least, with the thought that he moved too far for her reach she could sleep fine at night knowing he was somewhere else and happy. The thought of him dying and her not remembering was too awful a thought to process. That was something she had to remember.

It just was.

She took a deep sigh; her head in her own world and high above the clouds as she silently weaved her way toward her locker, placing her forehead against the cold metal once she reached it. She truly wasn't feeling all too well; her head had begun to ache and she kept getting blurry images in her head of war and blood in her 3rd period. It had left her with a heavy heart and tears in her eyes.

Because for some reason those images seemed real; they felt real. She could almost fell the blood on her hands making her fingers slippery and wet and hear the cries of pain and desolation. Sounds that weighed heavy in her stomach and made her queasy. She blinked and took a deep breath, feeling feverish and sweaty all of a sudden, Clary spared a glance out the window where the sun shined through warming everything with its sweet touch. She wished she were out there with the cool breeze and soft grass; anything to clear her head truly.

And as if hearing her call of need, as if somehow they knew, the three teens from her deck/dream stood under the large oak in the front of the school. They weren't looking at her; they were mostly just looking at the school in general. As if it was a prison; but instead of holding them in it was keeping them out, keeping them from getting something important. Clary blinked and stared; unlike before when they had stood on her deck in jeans and soft shirts, they were dressed in black clothing. Dark leathers and cool clothes that was as enticing as it was frightening; they looked like a gang of assassins, their hoods hiding their heads and shadowing their faces.

Clary took a glance around her; no one seemed to notice the three teens except for her as they chatted. She wondered if they couldn't see from where they stood but the young girl to Clary's left, who was currently staring out the window herself and glancing at Clary as if she were crazy, didn't seem to notice the three teens that stood under the oak either.

She had thought it had all been a dream; but it wasn't. They had really stood on her deck; their hearts breaking for something she didn't truly understand.

And all of a sudden, she knew. Clary knew she would go to them. Not because she particularly wanted to or had any desire to.

But because she had to.

Because she feared her heart just might stop beating if she didn't; because she couldn't think of anything else.

She closed her locker slowly as nonchalant as she possibly could before she walked with cool strides toward the front door and slipped out. She knew there was no going back but she didn't necessary care either. She felt like she had been stuck and seeing them had sparked her into motion again. She felt like some part of her that had been lost was slowly creeping back to the surface.

She didn't want to lose that.

Lose herself.

They had their backs to her in deep discussion as she approached with soft steps. They seemed to be in a heated debate as they talked with wide expressions of hands and arms. Clary stared for a moment as if in a sense of nostalgia; as if she had seen this all before. As if she had once been part of that close circle of flailing limbs. But that was impossible; she had never seen these people before yesterday.

Had she?

"Are you stalking me now?"

The three teens turning quickly as if taken by surprise by her approach and then surprised by their surprise. They blinked at her; all eyes of a different color. The girl's were a warm brown but something told Clary they weren't always so warm; like she had been watched with cold eyes at one point in her life by this same girl. She almost shook her head to dislodge the thought. The girl's twin had eyes as deep and continuous as a bright blue sea. Raging with emotions he didn't try to hide as he looked at her; a mixture of relief, sorrow, and affection. But again Clary felt a sense of something missing; like those same eyes hadn't always regarded her with such open love and adoration.

Already she was growing more confused as the time went on. Turning she was swallowed into eyes of the most illuminating gold; so bright that she almost thought to close her eyes. A deep emotion of something that made her stomach clench lay in his shining orbs. A look she had known before; a look that she had seen before.

All of it was clear to her. "I knew you. All of you." Clary said with no indication of confusion in her voice.

"You remember?" The girl with dark black hair spoke in a throaty whisper as if the thought made her want to cry in relief, happiness, and sorrow. It only solidified the fact Clary already knew; she had known them.

The guilt weighed heavily in her stomach as she shook her head. "My mind doesn't." She swallowed as the girl lowered her head, a feeling of some sort of odd connection spiked in Clary; like she could feel the young girl's deflated hope as if she could taste it. The golden haired teen took another look at her in rage; his fists clenched at his sides before he turned and rushed off. Clary wanted to yell after him as the other two siblings just watched him go.

"But my heart does." Clary finished in a whisper as she watched the golden teen walk off. The girl looked back up at her with a smile; small but it was better than nothing.

Another shrill noise came from the building behind her as she clenched the straps of her backpack tighter and turned around; knowing there was no point to go back now. With a sigh Clary smiled at both of the dark headed teens and stuck her hand out. "I'm Clary." She watched as they shared a sad smile before she groaned and her stupidity; her hand beginning to fall back to her side. "Which you already knew."

The girl leaped forward, her black hair swirling behind her like a waterfall, and caught her deflated hand in both of hers, cradling it close as if she thought she might never touch it again. As if it was precious to her. "I'm Isabelle." Clary felt something jolt through her at the name; something in the recesses of her mind that was hidden. Like this girl was somehow part of her; as if she could feel her. "Isabelle Lightwood." She looked an awful lot like Kristy.

Or Kristy looked a lot like her.

Clary gave her a genuine smile as she nodded and turned to the boy, who gave her a nod of acknowledgment. He hesitated a moment before pulling her into his arms and hugging her close. Clary let out a surprised gasp and the boy looked just as bewildered by his action as she did. He let out an awkward cough about to release her as Clary felt her arms move of their own accord and wrap around his trim waist. It felt right to be hugging this stranger, who wasn't really a stranger, as if they were family. He relaxed into the embrace before he smiled softly down at her.

"I'm Alec Lightwood, Isabelle's brother."

Clary smiled up at him before glancing at Isabelle who still held a look of astonishment on her face, Clary could practically taste her amazement. "Well, would you like to come back to my house? My mom's at the gallery and Luke's at the shop. I could make coffee. . ." She trailed off as she glanced at them. "We can talk."

The two siblings seemed eager but held back. As if something was keeping them from jumping at the offer. Isabelle looked to Alec with a kind expression. "You go after him." She said to her brother. "Clary and I have a lot to discuss. But I think we'll have coffee somewhere else."

"What is this place?" Clary asked in confusion as she took in the decaying Institute around her.

Isabelle gave her a knowing smile as she put an arm around her shoulders. "This," She said with a hesitate smile one that Clary knew was all wrong on her as Isabelle ushered her forward. "This is home."

Clary wrinkled her nose as she stared up at the building around her. Who would ever want to live here was beyond her. "I know it's not much to look at but it's much better on the inside." Isabelle gave her a sad smile. "Trust me."

And for some unknown and completely dumb reason, Clary did trust her. The building before her, decaying and ruined beyond belief seemed to be flickering much like a broken light would. She blinked as another building seemed to take its place; something beautiful and completely mystifying. But that couldn't be. Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her as Isabelle swung open the large oak door with a flourish and stepped by the pews that lined the old chapel. Just as she thought; just an old church indeed.

Taking a deep breath and looking about the room, Clary decided this would be fabulous to draw; especially with the large angel that stood before her in the center of the room just beside the elevator Isabelle was walking towards. The gothic feel of the whole building was exciting and the deep cracks in the floor made it feel like it held secrets beneath it. Like tunnels that walked beyond the city boundaries or held mystical weapons given by the power of God—

"What are all these?"

"Vials of holy water, blessed knives, steel and silver blades, electrum wire—not much use at the moment, but always good to have spare—silver bullets, charms of protection, crucifixes, stars of David—"

"Jesus."

"I doubt he'd fit."

"Jace."

"What?"

Clary felt herself pull back like someone would a rubber band. Her breath seemed to snap back to her as she replaced the blurry faces in her mind. Jace was back, the boy that caused her heart to beat quickly and her stomach to hatch butterflies. It felt like her skin caught fire at hearing his voice.

Jace.

Who was Jace?

"Clary?" Isabelle spoke up as she stared at Clary curiously and not without a little hope in her gaze. "Are you all right?"

Clary felt herself nod as she smiled thinly. Every time her brain seemed to give her an answer, it only gave her another question. She was sad and tired all of a sudden and truly she wanted to go home. But the look in Isabelle's warm brown eyes made her walk forward as if compelled by some other entity all together; as if their heart strings were connected somehow and she had to follow this girl. As if she didn't have another choice.

Stepping onto the elevator she felt herself settle with familiarity; which both made her happy and uncomfortable. Isabelle leaned forward her high heeled boots; which Clary was envious she could never wear, clicked against the hard ground as she pushed a button and leaned back. The elevator groaned before starting its descent.

"Jace?"

Clary almost gasped out loud when she heard the voice in her head; the scene before her rippled and changed. Isabelle soon took a glowing light to her body; a thick gold coated her completely as Clary closed her eyes in shock. Listening to her voice and a muffled stranger's. Jace, her dream Jace, was back.

"Yeah?"

"How did you know I had Shadowhunter blood? Was there some way you could tell?

"I guessed, it seemed like the most likely explanation."

"You guessed? You must have been pretty sure, considering you could have killed me."

"I was ninety percent sure."

"I see."

Clary clenched her hand into a fist; she could practically feel the burning of her hand as it collided with Jace's cheek. She could feel herself smile as the memory filled her with a ridiculous sort of triumph.

"What the hell was that for?"

"The other ten percent."

The sound of the elevator dinging and lurching forward alerted Clary that they were on the ground floor. Isabelle stepped with quick steps down the hall and toward a large kitchen; one Clary never would have thought existed in such a home as this one.

"Take a seat." Isabelle said. "I'll make you some coffee."

"Thank you. I like it—"

"Black." Isabelle said as she busied herself with the coffee pot in the corner of the room. "I know."

The sudden statement made Clary's words freeze in her throat as she watched Isabelle tinker about the room. Soup boiled on the stove giving off a fresh and hearty aroma throughout the room. Clary's mind seemed to shut down again and as if beyond her control the room shifted again. A slim, blurry figure stood in front of the stove stirring as a sickly and complex smell settled about the room. Clary wrinkled her nose at the ingredients strewn about the once cleaned countertop.

Tomatoes, chopped garlic and onions, the strangest looking herbs she'd ever seen, piles of shredded and blocks of cheese, shelled peanuts, olives and a whole fish stunk up the room and bubbled in the brewing soup.

"No wonder he brought us here."

Clary turned her head with her vision as a golden figure entered the room from the adjacent door in the corner by the fridge. Behind him she watched two move figures walked forward; one was short with fire swirling around their head and the other was taller and a calming brown.

"I can't believe you've been stuffing him with fish again. He's looking distinctly podgy."

Clary watched as the golden ball of light stepped further into the room; she rubbed her eyes and squinted but nothing seemed to clear the frustrating blurriness from her vision.

"He does not look podgy. Besides, none of the rest of you ever eat anything. I got this recipe from a water sprite at the Chelsea Market. He said it was delicious—"

"If you knew how to cook, maybe I would eat."

Clary frowned and rubbed her temples not at all sure who was talking. She felt the feminine voice was familiar but she couldn't quite put the tone to a face. It was stern and rough with an odd clarity of love.

"I don't really know what to say." Isabelle said from beside the coffee machine. Clary felt her memory pull back to her in a snap the room resuming its bland look of cleanness and tidiness. For some reason; the spotlessness of the countertop seemed wrong now that she thought about it. "Or where to start, I guess. . ."

The soup on the stove bubbled and boiling; popping every so often that Isabelle moved from her position by the coffee pot and stood beside the stove attentively; stirring slowly. And before Clary had time to compute it, her brain acted again.

The girl at the stove was clear now; her voice slowly clearing her face as she looked to the boy that stood in the corner by the stove. Clary felt her breath rush into her lungs as she saw Isabelle throw her a confused look; Clary wasn't so certain if it was reality or fantasy.

"All right. Are you going to come back? Do you want any soup?"

"No."

"Do you think Hodge will want any soup?"

"No one wants any soup."

"I want some soup."

Clary blinked as Simon's face came into focus. He stood by the door between the red head and the golden light. Clary almost slapped herself in the forehead for not realizing what the red fire was. It morphed into her; her hair cut short and tangled like she had been through a tornado.

"No, you don't. You just want to sleep with Isabelle."

"That is not true."

Clary watched as Simon's face heated up and his cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink. The room was completely clear now; she could see everyone with perfect clarity. As if another puzzle piece had fallen right into place in her head. Except for the boy whose name was Jace. The boy with the golden light.

"Clary? Earth to the mother ship?" Isabelle sat waving a cup of steaming coffee in her face. "Are you really alright?"

Clary nodded, not of her own accord as she took the cup of coffee with greedy hands. "You know you remind me of my friend Kristy." She said in a hesitant voice as Isabelle paused in her motion to sit down before finishing; her perfectly painted nails cupping her drink delicately.

"Is that so."

Clay nodded as she sipped from the hot beverage. "Yeah," She trailed off a moment before finishing. "You do." She watched Isabelle a moment as she stirred her coffee with sad eyes. "We were friends, weren't we." It wasn't a question.

Isabelle looked up at her with sad brown eyes; eyes that Clary just knew used to be filled with a sort of contentment when they had looked at her. "Yes," Isabelle said taking a sip from her mug. "Some might say even closer than that."

Clary felt her arm burn as she blinked opening her mouth to speak before she heard the pounding steps of feet and voices causing Isabelle to freeze in her actions again. "I think if you just talk to her—"

"What? Like yesterday?" A honey sweet voice answered. "It made her faint last time. I'm not doing it again."

"If you'll—"

"No, Alec, I won't be the cause of her pain." The voices grew closer as Isabelle watched Clary with wide eyes. "I just can't."

And then they were upon them. The boy from before with the bleak gold eyes and the dull and greasy blonde hair; there was a numbness in him that Clary could feel as her heart skipped a beat and her pulse raced. His eyes landed on her with a wide gaze his lips parted in surprise and Clary couldn't help but stand from her seat as if to go to him and to take the expression away completely.

Isabelle stood too as if to stop her as her eyes moved from her brother and the mystery boy. "Um, Clary," She said in a low voice. "This is—"

"Jonathon Christopher." The golden boy stepped forward with a board smile that looked so forced it made Clary grimace in response. "It's a pleasure to meet such a beautiful young woman."

"Th—thank you." Clary said with flushed cheeks as she took the hand he stretched out toward her; she gasped at the feeling of her blood rushing through her veins as if pushing the ice that had encased her body for too long.

Isabelle and Alec stood in a stunned silence as they narrowed their gaze on JC as if unsure of what he was doing. "Well, if you'll excuse me I think there's a mirror I need to be staring at and women I need to make swoon. Beauty never sleeps, you know." He said with a wink of his eyes before he turned on his heel and walked with stiff steps down the corridor. Isabelle sat with a strangled cry of defeat her hands holding her head as Clary turned to her in confusion.

Alec let out a hearty sigh as he sunk into the seat beside his sister placing a comforting hand to her back. "I can't believe he's doing this."

"Who's doing what?" Clary asked in confusion as she blinked at the two crestfallen teens.

"I can't believe Ja—"Isabelle seemed to stop herself before continuing with a shaking of her head. "Nevermind." With a clearing of her throat she opened her eyes and smiled sweetly up at Clary. "Why don't you go and check out the greenhouse upstairs. You and Ja—" She stopped herself again with a shake of her head. "You just used to really enjoy it up there."

"I did?" Clary asked in confusion as she furrowed her eyebrows. Her gut told her Isabelle was telling her the truth as she watched her with a glazed look in her eyes.

"Yes, you used to stay up their forever sketching. We sometimes had to carry you down and into bed; you'd fall asleep drawing the day away." Alec said with a soft smile as he rose from his chair. "I'll show it to you."

Clary took in the flowers around her in wonder. The way some seemed to shine while others glistened; the colors so vibrate and petals so soft. Fireflies floated above her head as she marveled them. Her lips parted in astonishment as the full setting in her mind took place, of course, she would love this place. It was absolutely stunning. She could almost picture herself stretching up here in the rising sun or pale moonlight.

"But that's exactly—"

Clary felt herself close her eyes; willingly giving herself up to the memory that floated to the surface of her mind and back into Jace's arms. The sun was completely gone as she watched the nightlife of her memory take over; the fireflies more vibrate than they were now as she watched with wide eyes.

"Midnight."

She could hear Jace's voice in her ear as the huskiness of his tone took a familiar sound in her head. She could practically feel his heat as she stood next to her; wanting her to watch, wanting her to see.

"Now watch."

Clary watched as the shrubs that she had seen not two minutes earlier quivered and shook as the light from the moon made them open fully as if they were the arms of a lover. A golden pollen of various light streamed and puffed outward making the fireflies shake in excitement as they buzzed faster. She could feel her awe as she watched the scene unfold, the wonderment of the whole situation. Her calming stone grew warm and seemed to brighten in her pocket.

"Happy Birthday, Clarissa Fray."

"What's made you so smiley?" Jonathon Christopher said with a smile as he walked out into the sunny greenhouse making the memory Clary was having snap back to her like a taunt rubbed band; the kind that brightened his entire face and made him seem more angelic than he truly was.

"Just thinking, I suppose." She said in a far off voice as the world returned to her; the dark sky fading away to the sunny one it was now. Jonathon Christopher was leaning against the opening to the roof garden; his shoulder against the door frame. And a misplaced smile on his face; for some reason Clary couldn't help but feel that grin was fake. "What are you doing up here?"

"The same thing you were doing." He uncrossed his arms; the bulging shape of his taut arms slowly contracting from under his black shirt as he crossed toward her in a slow gait that had her mind turning to mush and her heart racing. "I always come up here to think." He stood beside her and stared out into the bustling city below them; as if they were in a bubble all their own. Even with his lanky knotted blonde hair and dull eyes, Jonathon Christopher was still a sight to see.

"Alec told me I used to draw up here."

"By the Angel, yes." He said in exasperation; his eyes rolling dramatically as he turned to face her. "We couldn't get you to leave sometimes; you would spend all day painting and drawing and I—" He cut off with a cough before clearing his throat and turning away; she watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed harshly.

"You what?" Clary narrowed her eyes; her mind pleaded with him to tell her. To add a piece to the puzzle she knew he could tell lived within her. Her mind was a scrambled mess and it was up to her to put the pieces all back together.

"I just. . ." He coughed again as if not wanting to tell her; she watched as he opened his mouth, a set of two beautifully shaped lips separating as he did. The top was a perfect cupid's bow while the bottom looked like a soft pillow. She could almost see herself placing her hands on his face; pulling him down toward her and covering those poetic lips with her own; letting her fingers slip through golden strands of hair and making sure there was no room between them. Clary didn't know when she moved forward but soon her chest was almost touching his and it was like her whole universe was exploding. "I just used to sit with you; I liked to watch you draw."

"You did?" She said breathlessly as she watched him swallow thickly again as if he were nervous.

"Yeah," He had a small smile cross his face. "You used to draw the most gorgeous things and I liked to pretend that your drawings were the doorway into your mind. Like you were practically giving me a free pass into how you saw the world. And, by the Angel, was it beautiful."

Clary smiled brightly herself as she turned her head to the bright horizon. "I wish I remembered it; I wish I remembered our time together."

Jonathon Christopher let out a sigh. "Yeah, me too."

His voice vibrated into her chest quickening the beat of her heart until she was sure if it went any faster it would stop itself completely. The skin on her hands was clammy and her pulse seemed to sputter as her stomach crept up her throat.

"Have you ever been in love?" Clary asked with a sweet smile; thinking of the boy with the blurry face. The one that had called her beautiful. The one that loved her. She didn't know why she said it; it really seemed to just tumble out of her mouth. But she couldn't stop thinking of the way Jace had spoken in her ear; his breath that brushed her cheek and tasted of apples.

Jace.

A look of pure devastation passed over the golden boy's face as he looked at her. His eyes dulled and his skin seemed to lose its gleam. He hid it well behind a smirk that made Clary frown; she could still see his desolation. "Yes, I have; once a very long time ago."

"Who was she?"

"A beautiful girl who was never really mine to keep in the first place." The way he spoke broke Clary's heart; it practically ripped it out and walked all over it.

"How do you know that?" She said with a scrunching of her nose.

"Trust me," Jonathan Christopher said with a harsh laugh. "The angels in heaven didn't really beat around the bush with that idea. Anyway," He said with a smile that seemed to be forced as he wiped his hands on his jeans. "I'll see you around, Clary." Leaving as quickly as he came and taking with him a sense of security she only got when he was around; taking with him the swirling that was in her gut and a sharp pain that was in her heart.

"Where are you going?" She said in a huff as she quickly got to her feet; the wind blew her curls around her head in an annoying fashion as she pushed them out of her face with haste. The action only seemed to hurt him more as he looked at her. She didn't want him to leave; she felt complete with him, she felt whole. Everything didn't seem so confusing when he was around.

"Home." That was all he said before he turned his back on her. Wasn't this his home?

Clary couldn't let him go; something told her if she did she'd never see him again. And she couldn't lose him "Wait," She grabbed onto the back pocket of his jeans and held tight, watching as a small pen fell from it. "Don't go."

Jonathon Christopher turned to her with sad eyes; golden eyes that gleamed and looked to be glossed over as if he were nothing more than a skeleton of what he use to be. "I have to. It's better this way."

She didn't understand what he meant as he lightly pulled her hand away from his jeans; his fingers clenching onto her own longer and tighter than necessary. Before he turned and vanished as if into thin air. A hole seemed to punch its way into Clary's chest as the sun did nothing to warm her heart. Completely and utterly confused as to why she felt destroyed and why he left in the first place. She bent slowly and picked up the weirdly engraved pen before slipping it into her own pocket.

With a small smile to both Isabelle and Alec and the promise of meeting up again soon; she left the house in a flourish. Her mind only growing more confused and her heart feeling as if would explode any moment. She couldn't think any more; it hurt too much. Whether she was referring to metaphorically or physically, she wasn't sure but the dull ache that resided behind her eyeballs were clue enough that she had to get some air. Some space from all of this because she was starting to think she was crazy.

As she had stood up in the greenhouse all by her lonesome she had seen flashes of memories; as if someone was showing her a picture in her mind. Of men who turned into wolves and people with branches for limbs, fangs dripping blood from human looking faces and blue light that shot out of people's hands; which all-in-all was impossible. Werewolves didn't exist neither did fairies or vampires or warlocks; so why was her mind giving her these pictures. Why was it showing her these scenes; making her feel as if she had almost felt a vampire's fangs before? Been touched by the power of a warlock or had been tempted to dance with the fairies? Why was it that she felt she had watched with no judgment as a werewolf shifted?

She let out a frustrated cry as she ripped the hair around her head; the people around her paid her no mind as she struggled through the crowd and into the adjourning alleyway and charged down it before turning another corner still running. Only when a large brick wall stood in her way and her lungs felt as if she moved another inch they would explode did she felt her legs crumble out from under her. Her back slid against the rough wall making her shirt slide up and scratching her soft skin against the harsh stone.

Her head fell into her hands as blurry memories of Isabelle, Alec, and Jace entered her mind. Memories of a cold-hearted Isabelle and a temperamental, angered Alec as he threatened her to leave, to never talk to Jace, to leave them all alone. The feeling of his fingers against her throat as she called him out; threw his worst fear into the open as he pushed her body against the wall with a slam.

He had loved Jace too.

She could feel the heat and biting pain of Isabelle's whip as she wrapped it around Clary's wrist, pulling her closer, demanding to know who she was.

She could feel Jace's whispering fingertips, the way his body seemed to line perfectly with hers; felt the way his lips paved their own path down her body. She could feel his strong hands closing around her hips; his fingerings digging into her wet skin as her tights ripped from the force of his hold. The desperate hold she had on his hair as if to pull him closer as the rain fell like a curtain around them. She could feel his belt buckle digging into the stomach of her dress as his hands began to hike up the bottom, his fingertips brushing foreign skin. She could feel the dominate way he kissed her; showing her how strong he knew she was.

With blurry eyes Clary looked around her; the sky was dark now and her body ached from where it was sprawled out against the harsh concrete floor. She frowned at the shapes she had drawn in the grime; odd looking symbols that didn't make much sense but she knew them. The word protection passed through her mind followed by barrier. At first she thought she had drawn the symbol with her finger but as she reached forward for Jace's weird pen; she knew she had used it. She didn't know why she drew them or where all the time had gone; but she knew she had to get home, being by yourself in the middle of the night in New York City was never a good thing. But something told her she had to look out for more than just a mugger or thug; she also had to be on guard for. . .what?

She groaned as she tried to find the word she wanted; the word that seemed to flutter in her brain as soft as butterfly wings before disappearing; she let out an exasperated huff as she picked herself up and dusted herself off. She knew her mother and Luke would be in a frenzy when she got home; no doubt the school had called to inquire about her absence and she hadn't appeared at home in hours.

A figure drifted into the alleyway before stopping in the mouth of it making Clary freeze; something wasn't right as she regarded the silhouette with wide, distrustful eyes. "Clary?"

She blinked as the voice registered in her mind. "Kristy?"

"God, where have you been?" Her friend stepped out from behind the long forgotten overflowing dumpster with hands on her hips. "Your parents have been worried sick. Your mom called me at least three times asking about you."

She knew this would happen as she tucked the weird pen she'd accidently stolen from Jonathan Christopher in her back pocket. Her mother was bound to be worried sick and Clary knew what awaited her at home as she walked slowly toward Kristy. Her friend watched her with impatient eyes as Clary sighed. Her mother was probably going to ground her and shorten her already lame curfew, she'd yell at her for making her worry and Clary would apologize because she knew this one was on her. Luke would try to defuse the situation and make them take a break where he would make hot cocoa and make them all sit down and watch a movie or read together and everything would go back to normal.

At least, Clary could be thankful that Kristy had found her. She would have been a little nervous walking home alone. She had no idea how the tall female had managed to track her down but she could only assume that her mother had told her; thank God her mother had called, she probably would have been here all night if she hadn't been able to get a hold of Kristy. It was weird how her mother would have known since they'd never met—

Wait a minute.

Clary stopped at looked at Kristy in confusion. Kristy shifted her stance and crossed her arms. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"My mom's never met you before." She said slowly as she took a step back; Kristy's face dropped its impatience as she watched Clary with cold eyes. "She doesn't even have your number."

Kristy's mouth spread wide like the Cheshire cat from Alice in wonderland; her smile seemed detached from her face as it grew up her cheekbones and settled under her eyes. Her human teeth began to fall out slowly landing on the hard concrete with soft sounds as long daggers took their place. Clary let her mouth fall open as she fell to the ground and scrambled backwards, her back once again against the hard wall. What was going on? What was happening to Kristy? It wasn't possible; this couldn't have been happening. But even as her mind said this wasn't logical a word fell from her mouth in a rush.

"Demon."

Kristy's bones were breaking as her body grew and reformed; her fingers long and spiderlike and her eyes growing bigger and her nose shrinking; black orbs started at her as a long forked tongue flickered out lazily and wetted the area where her lips should have been. Her hair was growing longer and flattening to her back and hardening into wick looking spikes as a long sharp tipped tail coiled behind her.

"Much better; I didn't know how much longer I'd have to pretend to be a sickly mundane." Her voice was sharp like ice and gurgled in her throat. "I've been waiting for this moment, Shadowhunter, waited weeks for you to feel the pain your brother felt; waited for that overprotective mother of yours and that dumb werewolf to finally leave you alone. Unprotected."

Clary was breath quickly and blinking rapidly. She was bound to wake up right? Because this had to be a dream; this was like watching something out of a horror flick. Something she and Simon would have laughed about at the time then cuddled up against each other in the dark of the night because of the residing fear of what they had just watched. It was impossible for this to be true.

"Shadowhunter? Brother?" Clary shook her head as she slowly got to her feet; her mint green converse making scraping sounds as they settled on the grime of the floor. She ignored the werewolf statement completely, her mind couldn't possibly take the over drive. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kristy let out a loud growl; her mouth falling open with as much flexibility as a snake's as if her bones were made out of play dough. "Let me refresh your memory; you killed your brother Jonathan in the war of Idris."

"What?" Clary blinked as the lanky golden hair and handsomely face of Jonathan Christopher entered her mind. He was her brother? A wave of nausea spiked through her as the weight of her body sagged against the hard rock of the decaying building behind her. "He's alive—"

"No, he isn't! Our leader, my sweet Jonathan Morgenstern, is dead because of you!"

"Morgenstern. . ." Clary whispered taking hold of the chain around her neck, the ring shined brightly in the shining moonlight and vaguely illuminating street lights. That was what it stood for: Morgenstern. And she was a Morgenstern? But she was supposed to be a Fray? Before she turned into Clarissa Garroway, at least, she was almost Garroway.

"I want you to wear this. It's more yours than mine anyway."

Jace.

Jace had given the necklace to her.

Kristy pointed one long finger in Clary's direction before she smiled too sweetly. "But don't worry you will pay for your sins; slowly and painfully."

Kristy's limbs ran toward her using the wall of the buildings, that made up the narrow alley, as leverage as she ran on all fours; Clary had never seen anything so frightening in her life as she stood frozen watching as Kristy charged toward her. She felt herself curl into her own body as she placed her hands over her head in a cheap attempt at saving herself. Kristy let out a shrill scream as Clary waited for the pain to come; waited for the sheering sting of her sharp tail and the gross feeling of her long fingers curling around her body or the feeling of her dagger like teeth ripping into her flesh.

Except it wasn't happening; Clary was afraid Kristy was waiting herself; waiting for Clary to watch as she tore her apart. But soon curiosity won out as she peeked an eye out from under the protection of her frail arms before she looked on in wide eyed fascination. Kristy was trying her hardest to hit her; her tail was snapping out in quick increments and her finger slashing forward trying and failing to reach Clary as a flash of blue took form with every hit Kristy tried to give her.

The symbol Clary had drawn into the grime with Jonathon Christopher's weird pen glowed brightly as a bubble formed around Clary's slumped form; it was protecting her, doing the exact purpose she had drawn it for. Shadowhunters, she remembered, she could still see Hodge as he bent toward her with his cup of tea in hand. His hair was a stark white and the bird on his shoulder crocked loudly as Hugo watched her carefully before she slipped him a cracker.

"Half Angel, half human; beings of immense power."

She watched the symbol, a rune, as it started to fade; she knew she'd have to draw a new one soon or she would be at Kristy's mercy. She just had to wait for the sun to come up; if she could make it through the night she could get out of here alive.

Just as the barrier seemed to flutter like a light bulb that was about to expire; Kristy was slammed into her body rolling along the floor before stopping completely her eyes narrowing on the figure that stood in front of her. His hair was windblown showing he had run here at top speeds and his chest was heaving more out of habit than need.

Clary felt her heart leap from her chest. "Simon."

"Daylighter." Kristy spat; black ooze falling from the corner of her mouth in a slow descent.

Simon stood with his back tall; his shoulders no longer slumped in an inferior attempt at hiding himself from the world; his trademark glasses no longer necessary as his brown eyes coldly stared at the demon that looked coiled to jump. Even though Clary knew above a shadow of a doubt that Simon could handle himself; it didn't make her any less scared. She watched as two long fangs grew from the tops of his mouth and his eyes flashed black with rage.

He was a vampire; it was coming back to her in flashes as Simon leaped toward Kristy. He had been turned into a rat. The two fighting creatures tumbled in a heap of arms and legs as Simon grabbed the tail Kristy tried to hit him with and snapped it off. He had been taken by a group of vampires as a joke. Kristy let out a blood curdling screech as she threw herself at Simon in fury; her long clawed fingers swiping at him quickly. Clary and Jace had gone to get him, barely escaping, if not for the wolves that had come to crash the party; but not before Simon had bit a vampire to save them. She hit Simon hard in the chest; ripping a hole in the sarcastic shirt he wore and making crimson stream down his chest before backhanding him into the dumpster; his body making a forceful dent in the metal. Then Simon had been compelled back almost dying before rising from the undead. She had run to him in the graveyard not paying any attention to Jace's cries as she grabbed him. But he hadn't known her then; hadn't recognized her as he leaped to attack. Kristy let out a cackle as she ran her fingers nails along the brick wall, sharpening them while leaving behind the screeching sound of nails on a chalk board. She remembered when he had been saved by Jace; when she had thought he was going to die in the sun but had lived. She remembered the curse she had etched on his forehead and the way he had used it to protect her from Lilith. When he had given up the curse to Raziel for the sword Glorious.

Clary watched with wide eyes as Simon let out a groan and slumped forward onto the floor; he must not have drunk any blood today, he was far too weak and far too vulnerable. He had never planned on having to save her.

Kristy walked with slow mocking steps forward. "Weak." She growled as she raised her arm above her head, poison seemed to ooze from her too sharp nails.

Simon locked eyes with her from across the alley; the brown she had missed so much and had yearned to see were locked on hers, pleading with her and begging her to run.

She was done running; she was ready to fight.

Swiftly, yanking the pen from her pocket she jammed it into her palm, she wasn't thinking. She was purely acting as she let the rune of the angels, of the heaven's form on her palm. The curling inky rune formed perfectly and for once Clary felt complete; like every piece of her was put together as she charged forward and slammed her body into Kristy's.

She remembered who she was. She remembered what she was.

Clarissa Adele Fray-Fairchild-Morgenstern and almost Garroway.

Shadowhunter.

The creator.

Her shoulder burned from the assault and she was more than a little surprised when she saw Kristy had rolled a good foot away. She stood in front of Simon as her best friend let out a yell. Vaguely she could hear Isabelle calling her name; could see Alec trying to ready his bow; could feel Jonathon Christopher charging toward her, his blade burning and raised. She locked eyes on the boy she couldn't believe she had ever forgotten. Jace— Jonathon Christopher— made quick movements with his hand, his sinful lips seeming to move in slow motion as he called out to her.

Clary stood in front of Kristy with as much strength as she could gather; pushing past the fear that had sunk low in her tummy weighing her down slightly. She knew they would never reach her in time but that was all right. She could handle this; she just knew she could. Kristy looked at her menacingly with two black pits of hell. Clary could practically see the visions of torture Kristy wished to bestow upon her; could almost feel death creeping on her like a thick fog.

"Foolish, little girl." Kristy said with a cackle.

Clary simply raised her hand palm facing forward as Kristy's sinister smile slightly fell; she shook her head in disbelief as she watched with worry in her eyes as Clary widened her stance.

"My name's not little girl."

A blast of bright light flooded the alleyway as Kristy's scream took to the sky. It looked like she wanted to run but couldn't find the strength to do so as her body began to disintegrate and dissolve away as the heaven's rid her of her sins and her power from the Devil. The light grew brighter with Kristy's screams and before long the sound of torment was replaced with the soft songs of angel's voices. It was as if Clary could hear the chorus of spirits in heaven singing. Jace had stopped and watched what was happening with wide eyes; his entire face was lit up by the increasingly bright light, his eyes shining and flickering like fire. The light was becoming blinding as it flooded the whole alleyway; Clary closed her eyes against its intensity.

Then Clary let her body hit the floor.

She expected beeping when she came back around.

She expected to have her clothes changed and to be in the hospital or waking up in her bed from a bad dream.

But she hadn't. She'd woken up on a foreign couch in a foreign apartment that felt all too familiar to her at the same time.

"Ah, I see our Sleeping Beauty has woken up." Before her stood a man in the most sparkling outfit ever. If she didn't know him she would have thought he was some sort of exotic cross-dressing dancer. But she did know him.

Magnus.

"Tell me, darling," Magnus said sweetly as he smiled and took a seat on the glass coffee table in front of where she lay. Something that was out of character for him she knew because he never allowed anyone to even put their feet on his "fine crystal table". "How much do you remember?"

Clary swallowed and sat up on his too luxurious purple couch, her ripped and stained plain shirt not going at all with the elegant décor of the room. "Kristy she. . ." Clary frowned before looking straight into Magnus's eyes. "She attacked me. She was a demon."

"Ah, so you are getting your memory back." He smiled and placed an affectionate hand to her shoulder. "Everyone will be so pleased to hear it. They've missed you dearly, you know. And you've kept us waiting long enough." The teasing remark made him sound a bit more like himself.

Clary frowned, her hair hanging limply in her face. "They?"

Magnus nodded, glitter spraying around his head. "Simon, Maia, Jordan and the Lightwoods, of course. It's been hard for them being away from you. Especially Simon, he hasn't been taking the whole thing too well."

She sighed before blinking in remembrance. She could still seem him telling her to run, crumbled beneath Kristy's dripping claws. "Simon, he—"

"Is fine." Magnus finished with a cool smile of his own as he pushed her abruptly to a halt in her rush to stand. "All he needed was a good drink." The comment made him laugh as she watched little dusts of glitter fall gracefully from his hair.

She nodded fully believing everything Magnus had to say. He never gave her a reason to doubt him before. "What happened to me?" She asked after a particularly long silence settled between the pair.

The overly flamboyant warlock sighed before making a shooing motion for her to move over; she lifted her body and moved to the back on the couch as Magnus settled in beside her his cat eyes fixed upon her own green. "You lost your memory in the battle against Sebastian."

She frowned as she recalled some of the blood that had been spilt that day. "How? Did he give me some sort of potion?"

The warlock laughed harshly. "Ironically, no. You see you received a heavy amount of trauma both mentally and physically to your head. Your mind wiped itself clean, just as any mundane's would, in an attempt to protect itself. You developed amnesia." He sighed again and Clary had never seen him so calm. "When you came around weeks after being in a trauma induced coma you didn't remember any of us. You kept screaming that your head was splitting open like it was filling with too much knowledge at once."

Magnus pinched the bridge of his nose and looked away from her. "You were trying to recall each of our faces and how you knew us but the last 2 years of your life were gone. It was causing you pain so I told your parents that with time certain places or circumstances would bring back small memories in small increments. And you would eventually get your memory back. All we had to do was wait."

"It was the waiting that nearly killed him."

Clary whipped her head around as Isabelle and Alec came into view. An overwhelming urge to hug them took over as she jumped from her seat and swiftly hopped over the top of the couch, crushing her body into both twins at the same time. They wasted no time in hugging her back with a sigh of relief.

'It's good to have you back, Morgenstern." Isabelle said with a soft smile and the evidence of tears in her eyes. Tear, Clary knew, that would never be able to touch her unblemished cheeks. Isabelle was too strong for that.

"It's good to be back, Lightwood." She said with a bright smile of her own, she could feel Isabelle's happiness as if it was rolling inside her. She could almost feel Isabelle like a presence within herself.

"Entreat me not to leave thee,
Or return from following after thee—for whither thou goest, I will go,
And where thou lodgest, I will lodge.
Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.
Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried.
The Angel do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me."

The words echoed in Clary's head as recognized her own voice. The way her mouth had once shaped the words and she heard them repeated by a different person another woman. A woman with hair as black as midnight and iris's the hardest of browns, with a born-to-kill smirk and temptress look in her eye.

"Are we—" Clary looked down as a black rune came into view on the inside of her soft wrist. Something that she hadn't been able to see before; she had glamoured herself for months.

Isabelle nodded, her eyes seeming to clear as she smiled. "Yeah, we are."

Isabelle and Clary were parabatai.

Blood sisters.

Sisters of war.

She had forgotten.

"I'm so sorry, Isabelle." Clary said through clenched teeth as the back of her throat grew dry.

The two folded their arms around each other again as a sense of peace settled over them. This was what she was missing. This should fill the void that had settled within her. The cold ice that seemed to run through her veins now.

Except it wasn't.

A part of her was still empty, the feeling inside of her still missing pieces. The puzzle was coming together but not all of it was put into place yet. She still had something she had to do. Thaw the ice that had crusted around her heart.

Jace.

He'd told her his name was Jonathon Christopher. He'd lied probably for the same reason everyone had tried to stay away from her. To help her, to save her from herself. He never wanted to push her further than her mind wished her to go. Even only he'd known that her mind had already opened the void that her heart had been calling out to him this whole time. If he had told her his name from the very beginning she would have finally put a face to his name.

She would have known him sooner.

"Jace," Clary said with wide eyes as Isabelle and Alec exchanged a look before motioning for her to sit back down. She didn't want to sit down. She had been doing a lot of that for the past 3 months. She wanted to see him. She wanted to feel his face under her hands, feel his lips slide against her own. Just to know she hadn't made him up. That someone as perfect as he was truly existed.

"He stayed back at the Institute." Alec said with a hesitate voice. "He didn't want to pressure you." But they all knew what Alec was really saying. He hadn't wanted to get his hopes up again if she didn't remember. But she did remember, sort of. She remembered him that is.

"Do you remember the battle against Sebastian, Clary?" Isabelle said as she placed a hand onto her friend's knee. Alec slid into the seat next to Magnus greeting him first with a soft peck on the lips before taking his hand in his own. His thumb rubbed the warlock's knuckles as all eyes focused on Clary.

"Sort of, I mean." Clary bit her lip in confusion as she tried to make her mind bring back the terror of that day, but all she could see were bits and pieces; of werewolves and vampires and fairies with bright eyes. She remembered blood and sweat. She remembered the smell and taste of death.

"There's a rune that might help. It can only do so much but it should help with this." Alec said in a cool tone, calm and collected as always. "It's called Recall—"

"Recall?" Clary frowned as a rune popped into her vision; it flashed in fine lines and even strokes. Something so beautiful, foreign, and familiar as it danced in her mind's eye; each curve and dip as gorgeous as angel's wings. She'd heard of it before, seen it before.

Alec voice filled her mind in a flash of deep blues and splashes of black. "The rune allows the Nephilim to remember events hidden from the mind. Powerful enough to bring back childhood memories but only if the viewer has experienced or witnessed the memory.

Clary's eyes snapped open. "How come you didn't just use that one on me to begin with?"

Isabelle snorted. "You think we didn't try? Nothing seemed to work on you because you had locked your own memories. You're too powerful to be overridden by any rune. Hell, you're the Rune Queen for the Angel's sake. All we could do was wait until you decided to come around."

Clary blinked before she sighed and dropped her head into her hands. She had done all of this to herself in truth. And now it was time to get her life back. "I want you to do it." She said without any waver in her voice. "I want you to use the rune."

There was a moment of silence as Clary waited. Their breathing was the only thing that filled the room as she sat with her head looking into her lap. She slowly lifted it to inquire what was taking so long but was surprised to see Alec leaning forward the weird pen she had stolen from Jace resting in his palm. A stele, her mind told her as she looked up at Alec with wide eyes.

"Why don't you do it." Alec said with another uncharacteristically soft smile as he pressed the stele into her hand. It should have felt foreign but it didn't; it felt like it belonged there just like any of her colored pencils or paint brushes did. It felt like part of her; it felt natural.

She looked at Izzy for only a moment as her friend nodded her on; Magnus gave her a sly wink with that knowing grin. She pressed the tip into her skin gingerly, the burn made her almost want to groan in satisfaction. Just as Jace did she relished in that burn; it held an undercurrent of pleasure with it that she loved.

Show me the war, Clary spoke to herself as the final touches to the rune were applied. Show me what I've forgotten.

Clary ran forward her feet carrying her faster than any vampire she was sure. Jace kept a sure pace at her side, his golden hair whipping around his head in the harsh wind and the heavenly fire sparkling in his eyes. Clary's black gear clung to her with sweat and blood making it itch and irate the soft flesh underneath. Behind her was group upon group of Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike; they were leading the cavalry but would they make it in time?

A gasp took form; the only sound among a quiet silence. The air was thick with demon blood and death as Sebastian stood tall, his shadow dark against the bright light of the twin towers of Alicante. He looked so much like their father Clary felt her heart stop its beat.

"It's too late." Isabelle whispered from beside Clary; her hand automatically seeking her parabatai's looking for some form of comfort completely absentmindedly.

In the sky beyond her brother in a cloud of black dust and red hues stood a woman with swirling black hair, resembling that of the Greek mythological creature Medusa; her pupils were a soulless black, reaching outward as if to embrace your soul and suck it dry. Her smile was toothy as it expanded beyond that of a normal person's holding an air of evil and mischief. It was the worst Cheshire cat smile Clary had ever seen.

"No." Clary whispered gripping Isabelle's hand for dear life as her body moved unconsciously closer to Jace's, whose pure warmth made her inner turmoil calm if only a little bit.

"That's right, dear sister." Sebastian said with a large, dramatic display of his arms. The smile on his face made an anger so rich it boiled in Clary's stomach like acid and, by the way Jace's body increased in warmth, she could tell it angered him too. She watched the stern expression on her boyfriend's face as his jaw clicked in aggravation. "You're too late! The ritual has been completed and Lilith has risen again!" He said with a dark laugh; his chest heaving in glee. "Join me, sister, as we watch the world burn. Stand beside me where you belong."

A brown wolf took form between Isabelle and Clary breaking the girl's hold on each other and brought Clary closer to Jace, who wrapped an arm around her waist in a possessive manner as if to establish his place. The wolf's fur bristled as its lips curled back in anger; its black gums seeped saliva as it growled deep and long. Clary put a hand to the fur of Luke's neck, the only father she had ever known, as if to reassure him that she wasn't going anywhere.

"I'd rather burn with the world than to follow a sick, soulless, demon like you." Clary spat her body flush against Jace's and her hand resting firmly on his hard chest.

Sebastian laughed; the sound of his vicious cackle made Clary's heart beat quicker in fear and caused Luke to let out another well sounded growl. "You flatter me, sister."

"Flatter you?" Clary spoke snidely, being the only one to get truly under her brother's disgusting layer of fleshy skin. "My apologies. I only mean to insult."

The comment had Sebastian's grin falling from his face as Lilith gave a chuckle herself from behind him; her stance much stronger and bigger than any demon Clary had ever laid eyes on. But that seemed only fitting for the mother of all demons. "You really must keep her, Jonathon, she is simply divine."

Sebastian held a light look on his face as he let his eyes search his sister with no shame. Clary could feel her cheeks begin to burn as his stare seemed to sting her skin; as if he could see right through the gear that covered her body and saw the vulnerable flesh beneath. It made Clary feel disgusted and dirty as if not even a million showers could wash the feeling from her flesh. She could feel the embarrassment taking over her stomach as he watched her in front of both the Downworlder and Shadowhunter community. In front of their mother.

"Yes, she truly is. Just as father intended." He said with a low drawl as if the thought had him hot and bothered. He licked his lips suggestively as Jace tightened his grip; his hands becoming increasingly hot against her hip bone. "And I shall be keeping her with or without permission."

"Like hell." Jace growled as he released Clary and took a step in front of her; shielding her completely from Sebastian's lustful gaze. Luke copied his moment as if matched Jace's step with one of his own; protecting both Clary and the boy she loved.

"It really isn't up to you, Angel boy. Besides, you must learn to share." Sebastian said with a sickly smile. "Sharing is caring and all that."

"Yes and I could care less about what you want." Jace smirked as Sebastian threw him a glare. "It will be a cold day in hell before that happens."

"Don't you mean a hot day on Earth?" Sebastian replied. "I planned to burn the world with fire not ice."

"Nothing will be burning. Don't you see, Sebastian? You can't win—" Clary said stepping between Luke and Jace with her own battle ready stance; her feet were spread accordingly and her hands balled into fists at her sides.

Sebastian cut her off with an animalistic look; his black eyes shined with a blood lust not even she knew of as his white hair whipped around his handsome face with a vengeance. "My name is Jonathon!"

Clary tossed her head back in mockery as she laughed; her eyes burned as she watched the twisted look on her brother's face deepen. "You don't deserve that name." She smirked at her brother in such a way it would even put Jace's infuriating smile to shame. "You wanted to be Sebastian, you portrayed yourself as such and now that's just who you'll be. Sebastian Morgenstern." She said in a slow voice as if testing it out and only causing more irritation to her brother's face. "Oh, don't look so upset, brother, think of it as a rebirth. A new name for the boy with only a demon for a mother," Clary shrugged. "In truth it's not so far off; you always were a bastard."

Sebastian's eyes widened as Lilith let out a loud scream. "You'll regret that, little sister." His voice was slow and brisk against the silence and impending doom; behind him stood Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike as well. Their expressions were fouler and their face's scarier. In their veins now coursed demon's blood; so thick and vile it over rode their angel blood and controlled them. It had burned out all the humanity they had left leaving nothing but darkness. The werewolves were boarder and bigger; their faces resembling that of an animal with rabies. The vampire's faces bore cracks and black veins; their fangs longer and always extended. The fey were willowy and demented, their faces contorted and their views even more so. The warlock's power ran black as it settled in their hands like black souls; their skin paler and their bodies taken over by the evil in their veins. And, of course, among even that was row upon row of demon's each disgusting in their own way.

In truth, the good guys were outnumbered. And for some odd reason all Clary could think of was the saying "nice guys always finish last". . .

"Ready yourselves!" Jace yelled as he unsheathed the seraph blades at his shoulders; one in each hand as the heavenly fire crawled its way up his arms setting his swords ablaze with light. Clary felt herself grab the stele at her hip as Luke bowed his neck, his ears flat against his head. Behind her, Maia nudged Clary's leg with her head as if to show her that she was there for support. It made her feel better immediately; over Luke's large body Isabelle gave her a nod uncurling the whip around her wrist as she did so.

This was it; they were going into battle. Some of them would die; a death that was noble but would still hurt no less. She didn't want it to end this way or in this moment but she knew it had to be. This was the last time she would see some or any of them again. This was their finest hour; this was what all their training and hours of planning was for. This one moment; this one iota of time that, in truth, didn't feel so important. It just felt sad and final.

No one spoke but there was nothing to be said. They stared at Sebastian as he stared at them.

It seemed like forever Clary stood with her stele in one hand, her blade in the other just waiting; just waiting for the inevitable because soon the fighting would start; soon the blood would be spilled. The blood of her family and friends; the blood of her loved ones; this battle would be talked of in years to come but no one would feel the attachment she would. They would feel sorrow but no pain; not the pain she would feel as she remembered, this very battle, years to come.

She'd remember as she took one last look at the crowd of worthy and noble Shadowhunters and Downworlders behind her. Remember as she took one last look at her best friend, who gave her a small smile and a look that spoke of all of his love without saying a word. Remember as she turned to her parabatai and gave her a tearful smile. Remember as she gazed at Alec who leaned into give his boyfriend a kiss; the way her mother curled her fingers into Luke's soft, dowry fur.

Remember the way the man who held her heart leaned down and kissed her for what could be the last time. The way his eyes stayed open as their lips touched as if to memorize every moment; just as her eyes had stayed open to do the same. The way he held on to her for dear life as if it took everything in him not to just scoop her up and run with her.

She would remember the way his love had been so clear; as if it was the soft breeze against her cheeks or as real as the rain that fell in heavy cloaks around them.

She would remember how it felt at the end.

And as if tugged by some unknown and otherworldly string; both sides, light from the heavens and dark as the depths of hell, collided in a fury of blood and gore both with one goal in mind.

To kill and conquer.

Clary gasped remembering the blood that had been sprayed. The way the green grass had turned brown with soaking crimson; the way the forest seemed to die that day.

"You beat Sebastian, Clary." Isabelle spoke slowly as if not to test her, Alec stood behind her, now, his hands clenched to her shoulders. "You did it."

Clary's eyes fluttered shut and as if standing there herself; she watched the scene before her. Maia crunched on the bones of the demon before her; its slime coating her mouth like saliva. Jordan fought beside her; his ears spread back on his head and his mouth smiling, his sharp canines gleaming.

Clary ran towards Alec and Isabelle. The Forsaken that surrounded them seemed to be holding their own as they punched and dodged. She never remembered the Forsaken looking so big or being even remotely smart as she threw herself into the dog pile and stood back-to-back with the Lightwoods. She could feel Isabelle's excitement but also her fear. This was not going well for them; that was quite clear.

She had no idea where Simon had disappeared to but she could only hope he was alright. Hoped he was faring better than they were. She took a deep breath through her teeth and it came out like a hiss. Sweat and blood stuck to her skin like a coat and her gear was drenched in inchor; she could hear her coat sizzle as the poison ate through the fabric.

"So what's the plan?" She said breathlessly as she slashed at a large Forsaken in front of her; it let out a growl as it advanced again only to sink to its knees when her blade made purchase with the middle of its forehead.

"Well," Alec said just as breathlessly as she had; he had abandoned his arrows and was using his seraph blade as he cut through the neck of the tower of flesh before him. He leaped quickly to the left as a rogue werewolf fell before he crashed back into the two girls with a slam of his body. "I'm down to my last arrow and it's a grapple. It won't do much good for fighting but I could latch it onto that cliff above us and pulls us out safely."

Clary took a glance at the arrow that looked more like a claw than an actual arrow. Isabelle gave a growl as she slammed her blade to the hilt of another hissing demon; pulling it out with a flourish as if disappeared into a screeching pile of dust. "But that would mean leaving Jace. . ." She trailed off with a grunt as she attacked again.

They all knew they couldn't leave him; not when they were so close to succeeding. While they were trying to keep the Forsaken and various other demons and rogue Nephilim occupied as Jace was fighting the killer himself. Clary chanced a quick glance at her boyfriend, Alec leaped away from his sister and friend and onto the back of an angry fairy. Jace seemed to be holding up his own pretty well against her demonic brother. But how long could that last? Sebastian and Jace may have been matched in brawn and speed but her brother was devious. Where Jace fought fair, her brother fought dirty.

She watched Jace grit his teeth together as he threw his weight forward dislodging his blades from underneath Sebastian's. They clashed like lightning; sparks flying from the heated metal in Jace's grasp. Clary had to find a way to get to the Infernal Cup that Sebastian was protecting; if she could get to the cup she could destroy it and bring Lilith back to the hellish dimension she came from. She hoped that it might heal the poisoned Shadowhunters of their current condition but she wasn't going to get her hopes too high.

But first she had to get to him and she, sort of, had an idea or a death wish. She turned to Isabelle quickly as her parabatai threw a solid punch at the Forsaken in front of her before slicing a clean line through its throat and a stab to its heart for good measure. "I need Alec to shot his arrow at the Cup!"

Isabelle turned to her best friend with a wide eyed expression; Clary was asking them to chance their only means of escape. It was a gamble; one they didn't know if they should make. "Wha—"

"You need to tell Alec to shoot it!" She screamed as a large troll-like demon growled in her face. Its body was large and towered over her small height. Its skin was scaly, moss seemed to be growing from its head in tangles and its tongue was long and cut like a snakes. It scrambled toward her on four legs letting out a violent wail. She did the only thing she could think of as she panicked; she brought her blade down quickly trying to at least separate some limb from its large body. But it simply swatted it out of her hands. Standing defenseless Clary curled her hands into fists and used the only thing she had left; her body. She brought her foot hard into the beast's side as it let out an aggravated scream.

It knocked her down easily with a hard hit from its scaly tail. She rolled with the momentum as her body hit the rock structure beside her. She felt the air leave her chest quickly and her arm ache from the impact. The demon raised its fist high above her as she stared up groggily at it. She heard Isabelle let out a wail as she watched her friend about to be crushed.

And right before the impact was made; she heard a loud desperate command. One she never would have thought she'd ever hear. "Don't kill my sister!" Sebastian yelled his hand clenched around her boyfriend's neck. Jace's eyes stared at her with a horrified expression as they took in her crumbled body. "I want her alive!"

The demon, as if confused by the command, hesitated giving Clary enough time to clench a good sized rock in her hand and throw it, to the best of her ability, at the beast's head. It exploded with a cloud of dust as it made impact. The beast veered back as it shook its large head vigorously as if to shake off the pain or the black blood that fell in its slit eyes. Clary stood with shaky legs; the left side of her body felt as if she had been through a meat grinder as she turned to run.

"CLARY!" She heard Alec yell to her but it was too late to realize what for. With another simple throw of its clawed hand the beast smacked into Clary's chest and pushed her back. Her feet left the ground as her body went airborne; her arms thrusted forward from the wind. She landed with a thud against the rock structure; her face making contact with the floor with a slam.

Her whole body felt raw as her pulled herself to look over the edge of the small ledge she'd been thrown onto. Her hands were bleeding; her index finger and her pinky finger nails had been ripped clean off and the result was a bloody mess. Her face looked no better; her crimson hair was mixed with real crimson as her forehead bleed charitably.

Her eyes locked with Isabelle's as the dark haired girl turned to her brother. "You need to shoot that arrow, Alec." She was trying to talk calmly as she slashed forward with her blade. Her midnight black hair moved around her head with the silky smoothness of water. Alec said nothing in reply as he gave her a confused look. Jace made a choking sound as Sebastian pressed his body into the rocky structure below Clary's head. His golden hair was streaked with blood and sweat as he coughed and fought against Sebastian's hold, but he was weaken noticeably from the large gaping wound on his side. The expanse of purple bruises on his and Sebastian's body was a sure sign of a harsh and brutal fight.

Sebastian gave a yell as Jace's hands heated and began to burn the flesh of his arms; touching and burning anything Jace could reach but Sebastian's hold never faltered. He'd been beaten by their father enough to know how to fight through pain. But so had Jace.

Isabelle ducked as a well placed punch was thrown at her before another black-eyed Nephilim grabbed her arm. "Shoot it, Alec!" Isabelle yelled in panic as if forming the words from Clary's lips. "Shoot the damn arrow now!" She screamed as she thrashed in their arms.

Alec needed no further instruction as he readied his bow and held it taunt; the muscles on his arms coiled before releasing the arrow sailing, quickly and surely, toward its goal. Two Shadowhunters, Clary had never seen before, turned to grab him as he leaped toward his sister; Simon beat him to it however with a quick twist of one of the poor Nephilim's heads. It dropped giving Isabelle enough leverage to kick forward and stab the other that held her left arm. Isabelle pulled Simon close to her; for just a fleeting minute as if to have some form of comfort in this long war.

Clary found her attention solely on Sebastian. Her brother watched as it sailed toward him before he dropped his arm swiftly letting it pass him completely; going right over his shoulder and continuing onward. Clary watched Sebastian let out a harsh laugh as he clenched his hand harder around Jace's throat. "You missed, such a same for a demented soul as yourself."

"No, he didn't." Sebastian turned swiftly as if forgetting she was there and blinked up at Clary in confusion before glancing the way her smile was placed. She stood with a proud stare, her bloodied hands on her hips and her fiery hair whipping in the harsh wind and rain. The arrow Alec launched clasped itself around Sebastian's Infernal Cup; wrapping the black cutlery in what looked to be a hug.

Sebastian dropped Jace immediately as the boy fell like a sake of wet cement. Clary let out a scream as she watched Jace crumble to his knees before catching his breath and moving to stand on wobbling legs. Alec and Isabelle gave one hard yank on the rope wrapped around Alec's arm; it seemed to happen in slow motion as the Cup flew through the air. Simon leaped forward just as Sebastian did. With a harsh slap; Simon flew backwards dark, thick blood dripped from his split lip as it slowly closed up.

Sebastian curled his hand around the Infernal Cup with a victorious look as he raised it high in the air. He pulled harshly on the rope and Alec let out a yell as he fell to his knees; blood ran heavily down his arm as the rope cut into his soft flesh. "Did you really believe that you could beat me? Did you truly believe that I would lose to such pitiful and maudlin creatures such as yourselves?" He laughed again as he pulled harder making Alec suck in a whimper before Isabelle cut the rope swiftly with her sharp and dyed red blade. She fell to her knees and pulled her brother close; Simon stood protectively beside them. The feeling of defeat was setting in; Clary could almost taste it. "You are weak; as weak as a small 10 year old boy." Sebastian let out a cruel laugh as Isabelle fisted her hands together and bit her lip so hard they began to bleed. Clary felt the stab in her own heart as she watched the scene below; it was as if she could see Max now; standing before her. His warm brown eyes so full of innocence and happiness. He had only been a boy; so full of life.

"You have failed, you insolent fools, and your dear angel boy pays the price." Sebastian turned; kicking Jace's shaking legs out from under him. He took a healthy handful of Jace's hair and pulled it back. "Come now, little brother, drink your fill." The Cup teetered dangerously on Jace's bottom lip as he weakly fought back; the side of his head bleeding deeply. Isabelle screamed and made a move to run forward as Alec gave a yell.

Clary could feel it bubbling in her chest; that feeling she got when she was about to do something dangerous and crazy. Something she couldn't stop herself from doing. She felt her boots dig into the soft dirt on the small ledge she stood on as she glared with hateful eyes at her brother; He paid her no attention as he gripped Jace's head tighter; trying to break the seam of his lips to make him drink forcefully and without remorse. He had tried to do that to her once; she remembered it clearly.

She wouldn't let it happen to Jace. Not him.

"There is nothing you can do now," Sebastian spoke with a sickly satisfaction. "Jace is-"

A red blur collided with Sebastian head-on causing them both to roll backward in a heap of scrambling arms and legs. No one could really tell which limbs belonged to whom as they tumbled back in a comical sort of roll; arms wheeling, gripping at the air and legs scrabbling to find purchase with something solid. But nothing could stop the momentum they had build as they tumbled right over the side of the high cliff and toward the raging waters below.

Surged with adrenaline and courage, Jace stumbled to his feet before his siblings reached his side. "CLARY!"

Alec and Isabelle each held one of his arms as if to stop him from doing something stupid like jumping after her but also in an effort to hold him upright. He watched as Clary and Sebastian slammed hard into the rocky structure; full body hits that would cause bones to break and bruises to form. Clary could feel each sharp rock as they dug and held tightly to her sides as if some form of parasite needing a host. She felt her head slam into the side of the steep cliff more than once as she continued to tumble before slamming down hard onto a small ledge about 80 feet above the raging river. Sebastian landed, cut up and bloody, right beside her.

She wished she had passed out. The pain she felt was unbearable and she knew for certain her arm was broken and pulled completely from its socket. She had known colliding with her brother, especially from the slight ledge she stood from, would have been too much force to simple roll them backwards. She had known they would fall over and down the rocky cliff; she had known she might die. But she would do it again, just knowing Jace was still Jace was so peaceful to her that it made the pain crease but only slightly as she watched Sebastian get to his feet shakily. The Cup still grasped tightly in his hands; she was trapped with only her brother. The others couldn't save her unless they wanted to take the tumble they had and even then it was a 50/50 shot of them getting to the small ledge they perched on. It really was pure luck they landed their safely; well at least mostly.

Her brother ran a hand through his tangled hair; streaking it with blood as he did. He smiled as he turned to her; his mouth nothing but red and full of gore. "I must say that was pretty ballsy, little sister."

"Yes, well, I've never been known to half ass anything." She said with as much courage she could muster. She wanted to kick herself when she heard the tremble in her voice. Her eyes stayed on him as he circled her; like a predator with its prey. She knew he would taunt her and play with her before he truly attacked and that only gave Clary so much time to think of a plan out of the mess she made. That was usually her problem; she never truly thought things through before she did them. She was as reckless as Jace was.

Her brother let out a laugh as he watched her with black eyes; circling closer to her every second. She hadn't realized she was backing away until her boots slipped over the cliff's edge. Her concentration broke for only a moment but that was all Sebastian needed before he pounced.

His hand curled around her chin as he held her face to his own. Their blood mixing as he pressed his cheek to hers possessively, making her bite her tongue in disgust. She watched with wide eyes as Simon slowly climbed down the rocky structure behind Sebastian's back; his steps were silent and he quickly held a finger to his lips. "When will you quit fighting it, Clary?" The question was purely rhetoric because he gave her no time to answer. "You see, you are mine, little sister. My sweet, sweet baby sister. You have no choice; it is just the way of the world. We were made to be one." His tongue flickered over a cut on her neck making her cringe and chew her lip in rage. Bile gathered itself in the base of her throat and she hoped she vomited on him. "Forever."

She held Simon's eyes as he gave her a nod as if to tell her he was ready. She never needed to speak with him; it was as if he knew what was going on in her head before she even said it. "Like hell." She said with a growl as she placed a quick kick to her brother's stomach. He stumbled back a few steps trying to gather himself as Simon jumped. Sebastian gave a yell as Simon curled his arms and legs around Sebastian's back and sank his fangs deep into his neck; her brother ripped at Simon's head frantically detaching his mouth with a hard pull.

"Stupid, Bloodsucker!" Sebastian said as he beat at his back where Simon held on like a leech.

"Clary!" Simon said in a hurried breath. "Catch!"

He batted the Cup from Sebastian's hand forcefully and into the air. As if everything was happening in slow motion Clary watched as it bounced on the ground before she quickly dove for it; with a yell Sebastian slammed his back hard into the rock wall in a panic, making Simon slump and fall back with a hand to his head. Her brother had no time to finish the job of killing Simon as he leaped for his sister.

But Clary gave him no time to attack as she whipped her body around and slammed the Cup hard into the rock wall like Sebastian had just done to Simon. The Infernal Cup bent; a dark beam of light coming from its cracked surface as Sebastian's own hands broke with a black light too. He and the Infernal Cup were one; his blood and Lilith's made it.

And so their creation would be their downfall.

"You gave your soul to the devil, Sebastian Morgenstern." Clary said in a husky voice; full of vengeance and victory. "It's time to pay up." She slammed her hand down hard again into the rocky wall making the Cup bend further.

Sebastian let out a yell as more of his body split open like the Cup did; looking almost like glass as small cracks spread through his body. "No! Stop!"

"It's over, brother." Clary spoke with no remorse. "It's over." With that said she slammed her hand down one last time as the Infernal Cup shattered with a blinding black orb of light blowing Clary backwards and had her tumbling over the edge of the small ledge, she had so luckily been perched, and into the angry waters below.

"We watched the whole thing." Alec said in a low voice as he stared at her. "We watched you break the Cup and we watched how everything seemed to explode."

"We watched you fall." Isabelle said in a low voice. "Jace watched you fall."

Clary felt her heart sob with the thought of him having to see such a sight. To watch her get blown backwards and disappear into the water below without the knowledge that she would be okay. What would she have done if she was in his shoes? Try to jump? Certainly. When she realized, just as he had, that Alec and Isabelle's hold on her was unrelenting than what would she do then? She would cry, fall to her knees and sob because without Jace nothing seemed to matter. He was her sun; he kept her alive. If he died she would surely die too.

And then to his relief she was alive. Simon had pulled her from the water and she was going to be fine; only to wake up and not remember who she was, who he was. All the love they had shared, all the hard times and the beautiful times; the times filled with heartache and longing, of bittersweet goodbyes and of harsh truths, of wanting glances and feverish hands. Gone. Every forbidden look and every desire was gone in a flash. And he could do nothing but wait for her to regain what she lost. Wait for her to come back to him.

Clary couldn't stop herself then. She had to be with him; around him. She had to smell the scent that always was Jace, the musk of a true man. She had to see the golden gleam of his eyes the way they shined with devotion and love. She had to feel the softness of his golden curls and the velvet of his lips. She had to have her arms around him; holding him and kissing him.

She leaped from her seat quickly and ran out the door of Magnus's apartment; not waiting for Isabelle and Alec to register where she was going. Not letting them know that she remembered though she did. Not giving them the attention they needed. Because she had to see him; the one man that could ever hold her heart. How could she have forgotten? How was it possible she could forget him?

All she had needed was to hear his name and she remembered. She remembered everything.

She pushed the door to the greenhouse steps open and surged up them in a speed she didn't even think she could run as she slammed her way through the closed door. He turned to her quickly as if startled by her presence; as if he hadn't heard her pounding up the steps. She was heaving; her chest moving rapidly as she stared at him with desperation she had never known. How could she not have seen it? The longing in his lovely golden stare; the way he hide behind the smirk he held on his face as if trying to fight the sweet genuine smile she had always known to be hers. The way he curled his hands in and out of fists as if to keep himself from touching her.

"Clary." He said in a polite way that she had never heard or seen before. "What are you doing up here? Or even here at all? Your mother must be worried about you, you never told her you'd be here—"

"Cut the crap, Jace." Clary said with a crossing of her arms as a bewildered expression stretched over his face.

"Wh—what do you. . ." He trailed off as he stared at her; his golden eyes widening and taking up his whole face in an illuminating glow. "You called me Jace. . ." When he trailed off this time, she knew he had no intention of carrying on.

She blinked back tears in her eyes as she stared at the gorgeous boy in front of her; the one that belonged to only her. "Yes, I did."

"I told you my name was Jonathon Chris—"

"I remember what you told me."

Jace stared at her as if afraid to hope as he took a hesitate step forward. "But. . .you. . ."

"I remember." That was all she needed to say really, but she continued on anyway as Jace's breathing began to speed up. His eyes blinked rapidly as if trying to figure out if he was dreaming or not. "Everything." She said with a broken laugh; it was half a cheery chuckle and half a broken sob. "I remember everything."

"Everything. . ." Jace trailed off breathlessly; his eyes drinking all of her in at once.

She let out another laughing sob. "Everything." She threw her arms up in the air as she wiped at the tears on her cheeks. "I remember that I love you; more than anything. That I will always love you." She cried again as Jace blinked at his own glossed over eyes. "That I will love you until I die and if there's a life after that I'll love you then."

That was all Jace needed as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Just as she had wanted him to for weeks, just as she was sure he wanted to for months. She would have to see the others soon; have to give them the attention they deserved but right now until the eyes of the angels she kissed the only man that would ever make her feel complete.

Whole.

Because even though her mind had forgotten, her heart had always remembered.

AGAIN a lot of the flashbacks were taken from the original book City Of Bones and a quote or two from the movie. The definition for the rune and the parabatai chant were taken from Cassandra Clare. She owns all I am nothing!

Just a little one-shot to hold you over while you wait for the epilogue to The Art of Kissing!

Hope you liked it!

Drop a review if you want. You know I love them!

Any questions or concerns just PM me!

-Whisper