Hello

So hello from the other side
I must've called a thousand times
To tell you I'm sorry
For everything that I've done
But when I call you never
Seem to be home

"Jace," Jonathan says, and his voice fills the entire room. The blonde boy looked up, his eyes dull, no flicker of emotion. "You need to get over it."

There was rage boiling inside him, but he crushed it. He had no right to feel angry. No right. He had done this to himself.

"What do you mean I need to get over it?" he says in a dead and emotionless tone, choosing to let the snappy retort he would've given die away. He didn't deserve the rights over his own emotions.

Jonathan sighs, sitting on the corner of the sofa next to him. "I mean, it's been eight hundred seventy seven days."

"You've been keeping track?" Jace asks, still in that emotionless and dead tone, sounding almost bored as he focused on the laptop in front of him.

Jonathan scoffs, crossing the room over to stand next to his friend and slamming the lid of the laptop shut. "I haven't. Guess who has?"

There is a look of mock concentration before the name "Isabelle?" passes in the room, no inflection in the voice speaking it.

"No," Jonathan almost shrieks, his green eyes filled with so much impatience for the boy in front of him. "Clary."

This makes Jace straighten suddenly, his golden eyes snapping up to Jonathan, emotions suddenly filling him. The most dominant of these was guilt.

"Did I hear you correctly?" he says, his voice the one that would've had girls flocking to him. Now, though, it was filled with so much raw pain that it would probably make them turn away. "Did you say Clary?"

Jonathan lets some sympathy take over, but not much. "Yeah. Clary. You know, my little sister who's going through the same thing right now?"

The owner of gold eyes scoffs, his eyes looking anywhere but at Jonathan's eyes. They were so much like her's. Except not, because hers was more probing, more intent on searching for beauty, more open, more trusting.

Once upon a time, they had been more loving, too.

"Clary doesn't care," he says now, the last glance he ever had of her eyes passing by in his mind's eyes. It was heartbreak, like a glass split in glass. And there were so many pieces, scattered everywhere.

"Doesn't care?" her older brother's voice says incredulously, and Jace lets his eyes rest at Jonathan's nose. "Oh, so you think it's perfectly okay to mess around with her for who knows how long, then break her heart when I find out. And now you it's perfectly okay to pretend you're the only one hurting." Jace doesn't answer, his hand slowly tracing the the corners of his desk. "Guess what, Herondale? She's hurting too. And the only person to blame is you."

There's a glistening of unshed tears, gaze dropping to the floor. There's just so much guilt flying around.

"She trusted you," Jonathan continues. "She loved you. I mean, it was suckish of you to hide it from me in the first place, but treating her like a joke when I found out? That was a completely ass move, even for you."

The Herondale boy doesn't reply. How did you ever go about following that statement.

"And you know what the real heart jerker is?" Jonathan goes on, when it's become more than clear that Jace has nothing to say for himself. "For months, she kept going on about how that wasn't really you, and how you panicked, and it was just bull. She wouldn't shut up about how you were going to come back and fix everything and explain to me."

Jace jerked his head up, staring. This was news to him.

"Just this morning, when I called her, she keeps telling me 'Oh, it's perfectly okay for it to take 877 days before he gains the courage, Jon. It's completely nerve-wracking.'"

Was this true? Jace wanted to ask. He wanted to scream the words, wanting to be sure. As if reading the words from his eyes, the Morgenstern son scoffs, staring at his best friend in disbelief.

"Dude. She keeps getting more hopeless by the day, but she still believes you're some kind of angel who'll just show up one night and wipe her tears away."

The words make golden eyes become hooded, a memory of a clouded night with lightning flashing playing behind his lids. Things had been easier back then, him teasing her for being scared of thunderstorms and her replying in a quiet voice that she wasn't scared as long as he was there. It had been so simple, just the two of them, hiding behind fake glares they would throw towards each other around people. Words crafted in a disgusted way while they were flirting beyond the surface.

The secrecy had been an obstacle, but they had made the most of it by confusing every one once in a while.

But then the day had come where Jonathan had walked in on them watching a movie, wrapped in each other's arms, demanding answers.

And then Jace, jumping away from Clary as if she was poison, spitting out words like venom, pulling himself farther and farther away from the only good thing he'd ever had.

"Calm down, Jon. It's alright. We're just messing around. It doesn't even mean anything, I swear. I mean, can you actually see the two of us doing anything serious? Jordan would have better luck coming back from the dead."

And then, in a fit, he had just left, not even turning back to look at Clary's face even once.

"I thought she would hate me," he manages to choke out. "That maybe she'd decide I was nothing but a piece of trash and move on."

Jonathan scoffs again, shaking his head and heading to the door. Only when he is halfway out the threshold does he turn back to look at Jace again. "I don't think you heard me, so I'll say it again, Jace. She trusts you. She actually believes you have a heart." And then, as he's walking away, Jace can hear the unspoken words, too. That belief is going to bite her in the ass, but she's too stubborn to admit it.

Without permission, his hand reaches towards his phone, unlocking the damned thing and pressing down onto the "Phone" icon, the 1,003 voice mails he'd never listened to calling his name. He'd assumed they were all about how he was the biggest ass in the world and never deserved a chance.

The oldest one, from June 12th two years ago, that fate-less day where he just spewed word vomit, was filled with concern and forgiveness. "Hey Jace, you alright? You just kind of bolted. I already explained everything to Jon, so that's not something you have to worry about. He even promised not to chop off your balls. That's something we never dared to hope."

And then the next one, from that same date, this time filled with even more worry. "Jace? Hey, when you get this, can you please give me a call? I'm starting to worry. I haven't heard from you in hours."

The next few were slightly the same, all worried about how he was doing, if he was okay. If he was sick, or if there was something she could do to help.

Then came the game-changer. The one in which she was drunk. From August 12th, two years ago.

"Jace," her voice says, completely slurred. "They keep telling me 'Clary, he's not gonna call. He clearly didn't care.' I'm not annoyed though. I know you. I know you did care. It annoys me that Jon is the one who keeps saying it the most though. Why don't they have faith in you?"

After that, most of them were a day-to-day recap of how she doing.

"So... senior year. I'm so nervous. How did you manage to do it so calmly? ... Wait no, that was a stupid question. You're Jace, you just cover up your nervousness."

Not "You're Jace, you're never nervous." She said "you just cover up your nervousness." It... shocked him, in a way, that she knew this.

"So, I heard you're in Cali now. How's college? You know I'm always here to load stress off to, right?"

"So, I've started applying to colleges now. Man, this is nerve-wracking. Jon still checks in everyday. But I think he realizes that he's not the one who I really want to talk to. I miss your cocky ass."

"Oh my god, Ms. Smiths is such a bitch. How in the world did you handle her?"

Sometimes, she would be angry.

"God, Jace, I don't know what to do with you anymore. There's a deep ache and it just doesn't go away. Why won't you call me? Do you have any idea how much this is hurting me?!"

"They keep telling me to move on. How am I supposed to move on?! Huh?!"

Other times, she was sad. Resigned.

"I wish you were here with me. I've been touring a few places here, trying to see where I want to go. College is such a big decision."

There was one that was extremely excited, dated May 14th.

"Oh my god, Jace. I actually got in! I feel like screaming, man! It's so fantastic! For an entire hour, I couldn't speak, I was so excited. I even signed up for an art program over in France for the summer."

Everything was documented. Her time in France. How happy she was to see her family when she came back. When she started packing everything up for her own apartment. Living without her parents, sharing an apartment with Maia. Getting along perfectly. Enjoying art college. Getting an internship at an art gallery. Bonding with Maia. Seeing Isabelle for the first time in months again. Freaking out when she was promoted. New Year's. Valentine's Day. Going back home for the summer. Running into an old friend from high school, Bat.

Maia going on a date with Bat, actually looking happy for the first time since Jordan's death. Managing to make an amazing painting that Maia hung in their living room. This summer, taking an extra shift and helping out Luke, a family friend. Ending up running into her father when she was at the gallery and joining him for lunch.

There was one thing constant in every single one of her voice mails. She always ended them by saying she missed him, or she wished he was there. She recounted a date she had gone on with a friend, which ended up being awkward. The two were just close friends now, and his girlfriend was really really nice.

It took him days to get through them all. She sent one in every single day. Sometimes two. When, about 67 days later Jace was finally reaching the end, he listened to the one from that day twice, knowing he could finally call her and have something recent to talk to her about.

"Hey, yo." It began, and Jace wondered why she was acting so familiar with him. "Still missing you, you ass. Jon sounds really pissed off at you. You think it's because he isn't getting some with Iz? They've been arguing for a couple days. I walked in on Bat and Maia. Holy shit, they're really bad. But, I think Maia feels bad because she promised they'll go to Bat's place instead. I told her not to worry, just to give me a notice or something. Can you believe it's Januray 21st already? 3 years since that time you covered me head-to-toe in flour. You were a complete devil back then. According to Jon, still are. I've got to head to work now, but remember, whenever you want to talk, I'm here. Okay?"

For a moment, Jace sits, disbelieving. He had finally listened to all her voice mails. All 1,070 of them.

And then, he wanted to cry. All this time, she had done everything in her power to keep him a part of her life, giving him a recap of how her days went, telling him about everything good and bad that happened.

How was it possible for someone to be this loving? Jace thought. It shouldn't be possible, in this universe or another.

With shaking fingers, he glanced at the clock. 5:09. 8:09 in New York. Would she be busy?

No, he tells himself. No more excuses.

He dialed her number, his hand slipping a couple of times, the number coming quickly to him even though he hadn't dialed it in 944 days. Had it really been that long?

"Yellow," her voice says when she picks up, and just the sound of her voice, though he's been listening to it for the past 67 days, knocks the breath out of him. "This is the most gracious and klutz queen, Clary."

"Little girl," he manages to breathe out, his lungs hurting from oxygen deprivation. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to catch his breath. This was simply too much.

"Herondale. How's the life been treating you?"

How can she sound so casual?

"Like crap," he grits out, and there is only silence from her end.

"That would be the case now, wouldn't it?" is all she says, and there is a clatter of noises from everywhere. Voice that are closer to Clary than Jace ever will be right then.

He doesn't speak, doesn't explain himself. He knows she understands, knows she has been in his mind to the point where there isn't a single thing hidden from her.

"I want to hear it from you," her voice says softly, and then the chattering dies down. It's only Clary, her voice, her soft breathing. In that moment, he can feel her pulse beneath his fingers, the familiar thump-thump calming him down.

"I'm an idiot," he cries. It's not really a cry, it's just a voice, rehearsing the words every one has fed him. You're an idiot, you're throwing away the only good thing in your life. All these voice have existed in his mind for so long. But he knows Clary, knows that she knows him, and he knows that she can hear the crying of heart, the screaming of his mind.

And in that moment, it hits him. He is so so tired. Drained even. He has to see her, has to hug her. It has been too long.

"Nine hundred forty four days," he hears her voice say, and it almost kills him. The raw pain in it. And yet, the hope, buried deep down.

"I'm coming Clary," he chokes out, overcoming the much too big lump in his threat. Clary is worth so so much more. She is worth jumping off a cliff for. "To New York. I'm coming."

There's a male voice from the other end, calling her name, calling her its "baby."

"Clary?" Jace calls, and he hears her sigh. For a moment, he panics, his golden eyes widening, hand running through blonde hair. Had he missed the mention of a boyfriend in the voice mails?

"One second," she hisses. He wonders for a minute if he's the reason she's angry.

There's a squeak from the other side, footsteps pounding away, and then her voice, sounding breathless.

"Don't you think you overdid it?"

"I was an idiot. Still am. But, even now, I'm youridiot.

He can see her blush so clearly, and yet it's blurred. It's been too long since that day, when they were talking about plans for the future when he'd torn them apart.

"Have you ever read Ruined by Paula Morris?" she asks, and he knows that this is the beginning to covering up the stupidity he leaked out that day.

"I assume you'll tell me everything about it," he replies, slightly breathless, wondering if she is wearing that blue blouse she loved so much.

She talks until her sentences are broken up every five words to yawns, and then Jace takes over, telling her everything that has happened to him. When she finally falls asleep, Jace clutches his phone closer, listening to the breathing of the girl he was completely in love with.

So hello from the other side
At least I can say that I've tried
To tell you I'm sorry
For breaking your heart
But it doesn't matter
It clearly doesn't tear you apart
Anymore

So... this happened. I've been writing for... what, two hours or something? And then this was born!

How many of you just love that Adele song, huh? It's so beautiful, I feel like it perfectly fits Malec from COLS to COHF. What with Alec calling Magnus repeatedly and Magnus not answering. (Oh, I so want to read this fic now)

Please, please, review. I really want to know what you thought. And if you haven't already, check out my other TMI one-shot, I've Been Lost A Long While. And drop a review there as well.

Signing off now!

I'm A Writing Dreamer