I DID SAY I WOULD WRITE AN EPILOGUE! SO HERE IT IS! BUT FIRST: ANNOUNCEMENTS!

Time-travelling/ 20 chapter story won't be uploaded for about a month, want to write a few short stories first. My one-shot why would he care? Is turning into a story, but not a story. Basically, a whole load of one-shots put together and all sort of follow on from one another. So sort of like a fifty-shot. (Yes, there will be fifty, over time, if you can upload fifty.) And I will update its name to Fifty Shots, or something like that, if you can even do that. Sound like a plan? Yes? Good. No? Umm… deal with it, because I'm currently dealing with some pretty bad stuff at the minute.

Disclaimer… Hahahahaa…. Lets just say no.

Jace walked through the institute halls soundlessly. He could hear his heartbeat, and with every beat a poisonous word crept through him.

Thud. Imogen.

Thud. Zachariah.

Thud. Herondales.

Thud. Demon pox.

Thud. Sacrifice.

Thud. Death.

The last one got him. He turned, and brought his fist into the wall, where it made a sickening crunch. Unsure whether it was his bones or the wall, Jace kept walking, not noticing the blood trickling down his knuckles.

He had been avoiding Clary, Izzy, and Alec. Maryse and Robert were in Idris, so this just meant those three. He was always like this when someone died. Especially if that someone had died for him. He didn't deserve their sacrifice.

To love is to destroy. To be loved is to be the one destroyed. Accept this wasn't true, not in this case. Those who had loved him had died. Imogen, his last relative, had died. Zachariah, who seemed to know Herondales well, and had given his life for Jace. Just so Jace wouldn't burn people. The thought made him feel sick. Jace realised then that he was in the elevator. When did he get into the elevator? He pressed the button for the bottom floor. He may as well go out.

Upon arriving at the ground floor, the institute doorbell rang. Jace, getting out a dagger from his belt, yelled to the others, "I'LL GET IT!" He opened the door a crack. Due to the fact a weapon wasn't thrown at him, he opened the door fully, though not letting his guard down.

A young man stood on the doorstep. He was wearing a clear white shirt and simple jeans, his ebony hair blowing in the calm breeze. His eyes were almond shaped, and were the same colour as his hair, although there were flecks of bronze in the irises. He seemed harmless, well, that was until Jace noticed the gleam of a silver dagger up his sleeve.

Jace frowned and pointed to the dagger. The man, who looked to be about nineteen, smiled and let his eyes fall to Jaces dagger.

"I'm not putting this down, if you were wondering." Jace said, the frown not leaving his face.

"No, no, I wasn't expecting you to." The boy dismissing the other boy's dagger. "In fact, I'd be rather annoyed with you if you did. It would mean you either trust people you've never met or it could mean you recognise me, which would be odd."

Jace's frown disappeared, yet he raised the dagger at the man. "Why have you come here? Who are you?"

The other boy stared at the dagger with slight shock. "I never knew it was passed down…" he murmured. His eyes snapped back to Jace's and black eyes met gold. "I have come because I received a message from the Silent Brothers, telling me to tell you that I was alright. I didn't see how it would matter, I mean, you didn't know me, and people die every day…"

While he was saying all of this Jace was looking at the dagger. It was nothing special, a short silver dagger with a design of turrets around the hilt, with a small C on each of the turrets flags. It had, apparently, belonged to the Herondale family for generations, and was one of the many items in Stephen Herondales box.

"…so why would I matter? Anyway, I'm Jem Carstairs, formerly known as brother Zachariah." He smiled at Jace nervously.

Jaces heart stopped. Brother Zachariah. Alive. Relief flooded through him. "You're alive?"

His smile became more confident and he nodded.

Then Jace did the unexpected. He grabbed Jem and pulled him into a hug. They broke apart pretty quickly. "Thank god." Jace muttered to himself.

The former Silent Brother shrugged. "I have to go, it looks like it's about to rain, and I don't want to be outside when it does."

It started raining.

Jace grinned. "You can come in, if you want."

Brother Zachariah-no wait, JEM, shook his head. "No thank-you, I am travelling to London tonight. There is someone I have to meet." The man reached out it hand to Jace and shook it. "I know you do not bear the name, but any Herondale would be proud of you."

And with that, he gave Jace a final smile and walked away. Jace watched him go, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. He turned and walked back into the institute, when it hit him.

Jem had known his family better than he had. Every connection he had to the Herondale family was gone.

But now Jace knew one thing. No matter what, he would go by the name of Herondale.