I know, I know. I've taken way too long to update and now the depressing news that my hard drive crashed and my outline for this story is shot to hell. But I will finish it, even if it's the last thing I do! I'm not gonna lie, coming back to so many great reviews and follows is so nice :) Also, I am sosososososo sorry for all of the typos and bad grammar in the story. I was reading over it all today and cringing at some of the mistakes I made and after I finish it I'm gonna edit the whole thing and fix it all. Okay, anyway, here's the next chapter. Happy New Year!

CLARY POV

Once again, Clary found herself knocking on her half-brother's apartment door, knowing she wasn't welcome. To her surprise, a curvy brunette who just didn't seem to have her bearings, answered. She didn't however seem to be opening the door for Clary as much as she was trying to get herself out of the apartment. Jon's one night stand gave her a tight-lipped smile, picked up her black-studded stilettos and rushed past Clary, making her way toward the elevator. Clary smirked after her, remembering that that was herself not two hours ago. Since leaving Jace's apartment, Clary had gone back to her own place, showered, and changed. She currently wore thick-cut corkscrew wedges and an army green sundress made of soft fabric that hugged her tightly. Clary's long, red curls fell across her shoulders and she fidgeted with her fresh set of nude nails, her nerves sky rocketing as she took a step into the open door of Jon's apartment.

Clary walked in to a very "boy" apartment. That was the only word to describe it: boy. Street signs were the only art that covered the walls, a flat screen was in the center of the living room and a Budweiser light fixture buzzed in the kitchen above the sink.

"Jonathon?" Clary called, none too loudly in the apartment. The lack of answer forced Clary to continue her snooping around the man cave of a residence.

There was beer in the fridge—and plenty of it. An assortment of action movies were shoved in the glass casing under the TV and the Die Hard dvd case was open and empty, leaving Clary to assume it was currently in the Blue-Ray player. Two picture frames graced the apartment by the table next to the armrest of the distressed leather couch. One of the pictures was Jon, Jace, and two other boys sitting on top of a bar with two pitchers taped to each of their hands. Drunken smiles adorned their faces and all of their eyes seemed to stare straight into Clary. The second picture was one Clary had seen before; it was of a young boy and a man in a suit smiling at one another shyly and playing with trucks. The little boy had on a birthday hat with a number 5 just barely visible from the angle that the picture was taken.

Clary knew immediately that the picture was of Jonathon and her father, it was the only picture (that Clary knew of) that Valentine had of his son. He kept it on his desk in the office at home alongside various pictures of Clary and her mother. Taking it in her fingers gingerly, Clary studied the young boy that was her brother. Clary hadn't gotten the chance to get to know Jonathon very well, but she knew that he was somewhat of a football star back in high school and Clary's father would always go to his games. She wondered if Jon ever knew that. Probably not considering how stubborn her father was; Clary always pictured him sitting in the back of the bleachers and leaving as soon as the game was over. Jocelyn had never liked him going.

"Clarissa?" Jonathon said, coming out from a now open door in fresh clothes as he towel dried his damp, spiky hair. 'What are you doing with that?" he spat, his eyes going to the picture she held in her hands.

"Nothing," she blurted, quickly placing it back on the stand it had previously resided on.

"Who let you in here?" he asked incredulously, his voice starting to rise in anger. Clary knew this was a bad idea.

"One of your bimbos was walking out and she kindly left the door open for me. She looked like fun." Clary joked, hoping to lighten the mood and diffuse the tension. Her hopes were not realized.

"I know why you're here. Now get out." he demanded, making his way for the kitchen.

"Dad has that same picture in his office." Clary mused, trying once again to keep it light. "Seems you both secretly have a soft spot for each other after all."

"Clarissa. For the last time. Get the fuck out." Jon bit with his back to her as he opened the fridge, searching for food that he likely didn't have. Clary was sure that her brother only kept beer here.

"Jon can we please talk about this? Just have one serious conversation and if you still don't like what I have to say you'll never have to see me again."

"I already know I'm not gonna like what you have to say, Clarissa."

Her temper beginning to rise along with her frustration, Clary snapped. "Listen, asshole," she took a menacing stance, putting one hand on her hip and using the other to point in his direction, "if you didn't want to be treated family then you shouldn't have gone all 'protective big brother' in the club the other night. You owe me a conversation at the very least. So would you quit being a dick for five fucking seconds?!"

Stunned, Jon stood in front of his open fridge, his hand resting on the milk carton he had been reaching for before Clary's outburst. He stared at her in either shock or fear (maybe both) for a beat and then sighed.

"Fine. We can have a conversation, but that's all you get."

SIMON POV

Simon had been crushing on Isabelle Lightwood for who knows how long. Clary always offered to help him make a move but he always begged her to never say anything, too scared of the outcome. He finished his text to Clary wishing her luck with Jon and headed toward the small boutique Isabelle worked at when she wasn't taking classes at FIT.

Simon hadn't told Clary about his plan to ask out Isabelle, it was probably the first time in his life that he hadn't asked for her advice before doing something. Over the past few weeks however, Clary had been so worried about her father and preoccupied with all of her half-brother problems that Simon hadn't wanted to add another thing to her plate. He was gonna have to do this one on his own.

Taking in a large breath, Simon pushed open the door of the brightly colored and very empty shop, hearing the ding of the bell from behind him as he determinedly made his way for the counter where Isabelle was painting her nails, obviously bored.

Looking up, she gave him a small smile, "Hey Simon, what's up?"

"I came to see you actually," Simon said with a smile, leaning against the counter smoothly. It was way out of character from Simon's dorky and nervous attitude, and Isabelle noticed.

Raising her eyebrows at Simon's newfound swagger she wondered, "And why would you be coming to see me?"

The words spilled out of Simon's mouth before he could properly think about what he was saying, "I'm here to ask you out."

Isabelle widened her eyes slightly and waited for him to say something else, but he wasn't going to. Without moving a muscle, Simon continued to stare at her, waiting for her response. Finally, after a moment of silence, Isabelle smiled.

"Well then ask me out." Flipping her glossy hair over her shoulder, she went back to painting her nails, looking up at him, waiting for him to indeed ask her out.

Wait what? Simon thought. Is Isabelle Lightwood telling me to ask her out? Shaking his head slightly and righting himself he did as he was told.

"Will you go out with me? Tonight?"

"Sure," Isabelle replied, an even bigger smile lighting up her face. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," Simon breathed out, thrilled at her response. "I'll come get you at seven." He said, backing out of the store, staring at the most beautiful girl in the world.

Isabelle and Simon both still had smiles on their faces when he exited the store.

JON POV

"He loves you, Jon." Clary argued. "How can you not see that?"

"Clarissa, we've been talking for hours and I'm done. This conversation is over, I am not helping that man. He got himself into the mess he's in."

"He isn't an alcoholic, Jon!"

"Then why is he about to die, Clarissa! Huh? Tell me that?"

Beginning to sob now, his red-headed little sister still pressed on, "Jon, please. You don't understand. You're literally the only option, he's—"

Clarissa's ringtone for her mother set her phone off, lighting it up with a picture of her and Jocelyn hugging at prom. Jon only briefly had time to look at the picture, wondering if their dad had been the one to take it, before the small girl from the picture hit the green button and greeted the other line.

"Hey mom, what's up." Clarissa began to wipe her tears from her porcelain face before she stopped short, a dead stare coming to her eyes. Jon couldn't understand the scrambled talking on the other line, but from the look on his sister's face, he knew it wasn't good. As soon as the thoughts of what could have happened slipped into his mind, Clarissa spoke them, confirming his fears.

"Daddy." she whispered, no life in her voice.

Taking action like he assumed a big brother would, Jonathon snatched the phone from Clarissa's hand and spoke into it.

"Hello Jocelyn, this is Jonathon. I'm here with Clarissa and she seems upset. What's going on? Do we need to get to the hospital?"

Jon could hear Jocelyn stutter on the other end in shock before she finally responded with, "Yes, come straight away."

Hitting the 'End Call' button on Clarissa's phone, Jon put it in his pocket, grabbed his sister's hand and made for the door. It was about time he see his father.

Hopefully I'll get better about updating... but probably not :/