An AU in which Clary was raised by Valentine.
Nightmares swirled in front of her as she drifted in a state between dreams and reality. Flashing lights, fire, blood, feathers. Some visions were familiar – her father's hulking form, her brother's deep black eyes – but most were foreign to her. A language she didn't understand, emotions she couldn't comprehend, and places she had never seen, but everything in this haunting dream was laced with the hazy, oppressing weight of pain.
As she floated through her shadowy world, she was distantly aware of her father's rough, large hands releasing her wrists from the heavy chains that had restrained her, and the stabs of agony that shot through her body at the sensation of his touch on her broken, bloody wrists – rubbed raw to the bone from her struggles – brought her unbearably closer to a full state of awareness, without the distraction brought by the disturbing, indecipherable entities that existed within the deepest recesses of her mind.
In the wake of the horrible tortures he had inflicted upon her, her father's hands were deceptively gentle as he washed the blood from her skin with a wet rag and then lifted her broken, battered body from the table and into his large, muscular arms. She felt the sway of his motions as he carried her up the stairs and into the manor – his broad form never faltering under her slender weight – and then through the series of long hallways and twirling staircases that would eventually lead to her bedroom. As he walked, the pain of her injuries jarred her into semi-consciousness, though her eyelids remained heavy and she found herself unable to move or speak, and the haunting images of her dreams followed her throughout the cold, dark house.
In the shadows of a doorway she caught a glimpse of red, demonic eyes that glinted with gleeful madness before they exited her line of sight as her father continued his journey.
A morbid girl with gauze-like wings and corpse-blue skin flashed a toothy grin from where she was perched on a mantelpiece, and her mouth was full of blood that coated her teeth and oozed down her chin.
The macabre visions corresponded with the air of sinister darkness that pervaded every room of the manor, and she shivered at the chilling sense of dread they instilled within her heart. As a particularly disturbing image of a demon with her brother's face leered at her, she curled closer to her father's broad chest, and his arms tightened around her slight form in response. She knew that he could not see the apparitions that plagued their journey, but his quiet concern and protection comforted her nonetheless.
After what seemed like hours, her father reached the large doors to her bedroom and used his shoulder to push them open. He entered the large room and laid her gently on her bed – its familiar comfort and the pain and tiredness caused by her wounds making it increasingly harder to maintain consciousness. Her father opened a drawer of her nightstand and seemed to be looking for something as she stared out a small portion of a large window that wasn't obscured by heavy curtains, distracted and drowsily fascinated with a particular star that seemed brighter than the rest. She heard her father close the drawer and sit next to her on the bed, pulling her towards him and grasping an un-injured portion of her arm. Her weary gaze remained on the bright star outside her window, but she felt the familiar burn of a stele's touch as her father drew a rune on her bloody, bruised skin.
As the rune took effect, the pain of her injuries mercifully faded into a hazy presence that she could ignore, and she shivered as the full weight of exhaustion and hunger pressed down upon her. She allowed her weary eyes to close, her body still shaking with pain and fatigue, and felt the covers drawn up around her fragile figure. She felt his large hand slowly brush against her hair, and he whispered something to her that she was unable to comprehend in her dream-like state. A broken sob broke the silence of the room before she succumbed to unconsciousness completely, lost once more to the haunting, melancholy visions, and weighed down by the pain and sadness and darkness that remained a constant shadow over her heart.