I do not own the Mortal Instruments.

Hi, this is my second time writing on here (in this category), so yeah. I have decided to dust of this fic and continue on with it, but updates will be a while as I have one (and soon to be two) more pressing fics I have to write for another catergory (prompts). But I will try to update weekly.

This is my version of when Luke gets bitten and the events that follow (up to when he changes). Enjoy.

Chapter 1: Bite

When the door slammed open that day, the series of events that had yet to take place was set on an irrevocable course that there was no coming back from. The members of the Circle were all in the prime of their youth and little too late did they realise the significance of what had taken place.

"Back so soon from the hunt?" Stephen called from the living room of which they were all seated in, "I would have thought you would have enjoyed yourselves a bit longer before returning to your humble residence and relieving that worrying of your wife."

He was surprised when neither of the pair answered, or at least when Valentine did not snap back a retort; Lucian was, while undeniably friendly, rather withdrawn and awkward in the more social of situations. His parabati was the exact opposite; bold, outgoing and the life of any party. This fact only proved the statement that opposites attract.

"Valentine?" Jocelyn asked hesitantly when still no reply was given, "Are you alright?" And suddenly the house burst into action around them.

"Hodge, Maryse, get the first aid room prepared now. Stephen, help me with him," Valentine ordered, his voice uncharacteristically frantic as it floated through the walls towards them. Everybody jumped up and dashed out to the hall to see what had occurred with the exceptions of Hodge and Maryse who obeyed Valentine's command and ran in the other direction towards the infirmary that had been installed at Jocelyn's insistence in case anything bad should happen when Valentine returned from one of his hunts and right now it sounded as if that forward thinking would finally see some more action than just a few cuts and abrasions.

Stephen felt his heart jump into his throat as he beheld the sight before him numbly sensing Robert stopping a fainting Amatis from crashing to the ground. Upon their leader's shoulders was the limp and unresponsive form of Lucian, a fact that was disturbing in itself had Valentine not been covered in what was clearly his parabati's blood. And what was more disturbing than that was the fact that in his mind Stephen could only think of one reason as to why one of the most formidable shadowhunters of their group was slung across another's shoulders; he had been injured by the very thing the pair had been hunting, werewolves.

"Stephen!" Valentine's voice was sharper than usual, dragging him from his stupor and back into the reality of the situation. He unconsciously felt his legs moving beneath him as his arms stretched out to take half the weight of his wounded comrade whose head flopped around at the change in positions. The blonde man caught sight of the wound which was clearly the source of Valentine's frenzied, almost panic-like state and did a double take.

Lucian's shoulder looked as if it had been set upon and ripped open by a vicious set of teeth which only confirmed Stephen's worst fears. Blood was gushing from the large gashes at an alarming rate though it was clear that Valentine had tried to stop the bleeding as best he could.

"Why didn't you use the runes?" he heard Jocelyn ask, concern clearly evident in her voice. Valentine seemed to growl back the answer, almost as if he was unhappy with the level of concern his wife was showing the unconscious Lucian, but then again, it was probably just the shock and stress Stephen thought, not that Valentine looked all that shocked.

"I tried that already. They didn't work. Now see if you can find anything to stop the bleeding," snapped back her husband. Stephen watched as Jocelyn darted ahead of them, red hair whirling around her head in her hurry. He continued to help Valentine lug Lucian towards their intended destination.

"How did this happen?" he said, panting slightly at the effort of moving a fully grown man, though one that was thankfully smaller than most of the other males he knew. Valentine glanced at him over his parabati's lolling head.

"We found the den alright," he said, "But when we went to attack, I got distracted by an attacking werewolf and lost sight of him for a moment. Next thing I knew he was on the ground screaming in agony as one of the bastard Downworlders was mauling him. Barely got him out of there alive."

"Surely Lucian would have been able to hold his own against one lycanthrope," Stephen interjected. Valentine, however, wasn't paying attention as they finally made it to the infirmary and were able to dispose of their quarry on one of the two beds that filled the room.

It must be painful, thought Stephen as he observed his leader, to see his own parabati like this. Everyone knew of the unique bond those who were deemed as blood brothers shared; they were closer than any other relationship bond the two participants may form, be it through marriage, parentage or family. Parabatis would follow each other to the ends of the earth and into hell itself if the occasion called for it.

Hodge and Jocelyn had already set to work in mixing up various herbs and plants, creating a thick paste of sorts. Maryse had excused herself, never being one for dealing with wounds of this extent. She announced that she would be leaving with Robert to check up on their son, Alec, who they had left with some trusted friends also minding Jonathan for Jocelyn.

Thinking about his friends' child, Stephen couldn't help but shiver. There was something about the boy, something that he couldn't quite put a finger on but he knew in his mind was off.

Jocelyn hurriedly removed the ragged strips of material that still clung to Lucian's bloodied shoulder. She could feel her husband breathing down her neck in apprehension of what was to come and deep in her mind she felt the same fear. If Lucian managed to survive, that did not discredit the fact that this was a werewolf bite, the only other known way that the lycanthrope disease could be spread besides being inherited by any children of these particular Downworlders. A bitter taste arose in her mouth and she swallowed, refusing to become distracted in helping her long-time friend.

The injured shadowhunter had not moved since Valentine had brought him in but now he was groaning in a wretched tone, clearly in pain from his wound. Thrashing around slightly on the bed, Lucian almost managed to hit her square in the face before Valentine moved and restrained his friend's arms.

"Whatever you're going to do," Valentine growled as Stephen moved to help pin down his brother-in-law's legs, "You had better do it now before he can injure himself further."

"I can't find the jar I'm looking for, the one the book says you're supposed to use in these situations," called Hodge from the shelf he was stumped over. Valentine swore.

"Here, swap with me and I'll see if I can find it. Jocelyn, keep working on stemming that blood flow." In the whole room, Valentine seemed to be the most collected. And this was one of the reasons as to why Jocelyn had agreed to marry him; he was a natural born leader, always looking after his own. And Lucian; her husband treated him like a brother and of that she was glad. If the pair had ended up hating each other she may not have been able to go through with the marriage.

Jocelyn continued to apply pressure to Lucian's wounds, trying hard to cause him as little pain as possible. Even so he struggled against the strong hands that held him down, caught up in the most basic human desire to flee from what was causing him such an intense agony. Stephen and Hodge's faces were beaded with sweat, for while wounded and not as big as the other two, Lucian was strong and the runes drawn over his body for strength only increased his power.

Opting to try the stele again, Jocelyn quickly inscribed the runes for healing directly onto the skin just below Lucian's mangled shoulder. She watched in disbelief as they faded away without leaving any physical trace on the surface of his skin or the deep tears in his shoulders that ran right down to the bone.

"Valentine," she cried as the man beneath her began to spasm uncontrollably, "We need that mixture now."

"It appears that we do not have any," her husband replied, "You will have to make-do with this instead."

He tossed a small vial towards Jocelyn who caught it in one fluid motion. She dumped the contents into the bowl of sludge and did not hesitate to begin dressing Lucian's shoulder with it. The shadowhunter's screams were beyond belief and Jocelyn was silently glad that Jonathan was not in the manor to hear them.

"But he may not survive without the correct solution," Hodge gasped as he watched Jocelyn apply the salve.

"It's the best we can do," Valentine answered, "And we will just have to hope it is enough." Jocelyn prayed that it would be so. Lucian was strong and would not give up without a fight. But it was what would happen if he survived that was the real problem.

So what do you think? Please review.