21. Aftermath

The world around her smouldered away, blue flames devouring every inch of combustible matter in a narrowing circle around her. Already she could feel the heat blistering her skin, the temperature rising with every passing moment.

In the distance, Clary could hear whispers calling to her in a language she did not find familiar yet understood implicitly at the same time. The hushed voices whispered sweet promises of release from her torture.

She struggled against the restraints holding down her wrists, hearing the splintering creaking of the chair as it shifted beneath her. She couldn't escape.

The fire swole and spat at her, the circle less than a meter from her. She screamed as her clothes and hair burst into flames, melting to her skin. She wanted desperately to call out to the voices, express to them that she would give anything but she couldn't.

Her mouth refused to open, stopping any words before they were ever created in her throat.

"There is no way out of this, Clarissa..."

Clary's head whipped to the side and she fell from the bed, landing on her tailbone with a resounding thud, the plush rug beneath her doing little to shield her from the pain.

Afterwards came the rustling of bedsheets accompanied by the soft ruffling of fibres as Isabelle cautiously padded around the bed to her.

"Clary I'm sorry I panicked... I-I couldn't wake you up." Isabelle stuttered, her hand gripping her wrist so tightly her knuckles turned a brilliant white.

"What are you talking about?" Clary questioned, attempting to push aside the residual burning she felt over her entire body. She was vaguely aware of the sweat that gathered on her temples and neck. She felt a cold clamminess coating her skin, yet more evidence of the dream that floated around her mind in snippets. The pain she felt in her dream almost perfectly emulated the pain from Isabelle disrupting the rune, except this time the pain seemed far worse. Subconsciously her right hand raised to her throat, her slim fingers extending outwards allowing the tips of her index and middle finger to brush over the offending area.

Before they had crawled into bed, too exhausted to even file the mission report, Clary had taken a moment of privacy in the bathroom. She had hoped that the rune would already be fading however the reflection that stared back at her in the mirror said otherwise. The inky black of the rough looking rune had been as present as if freshly drawn and though Isabelle's strike through it was still just as visible Clary could only see the mark underneath. She had stayed in the bathroom for a further fifteen minutes, her back to the cold porcelain of the toilet in an attempt to calm the waves of anxiety that rolled over her.

"Well, you were whimpering in your sleep and then out of nowhere you started thrashing around, you almost punched me a handful of times. Honestly, I didn't know what to do, I couldn't wake you up so I just slapped you." Isabelle commented, yanking Clary from her reverie. The brunette's eyes were cast downwards, surveying the floor as if it were the most interesting thing she had seen in a long while.

"Thank you, Iz," Clary returned, letting all of her gratitude for the strong-willed girl coat her words. Ignoring the shaking that persisted in her body Clary planted her feet beneath her and braced herself against the bed, rising shakily.

"Maybe you should have a shower?" Isabelle recommended, closing the gap between them in an instant at seeing her partner struggle. Her gentle hands found Clary's waist and began steering her toward the bathroom. "Will you be okay?" Isabelle asked, concern apparent in her sparkling brown eyes as she lingered in the doorway, uncertainty displayed on her face.

For a moment her eyes gravitated towards Isabelle's, seeing nothing but love and concern in them. Clary allowed a smile to creep onto her face, a light blush surfacing on her cheeks as they gazed at each other. Unable to resist the pull of Isabelle's personal gravity Clary shuffled forward, her hands clasping together with Isabelle's slender warm ones. She pulled the dark-eyed girl towards her, satisfied when the taller woman's body pressed fully to her own. With a hefty sigh, she tucked her head beneath Isabelle's chin, her ear pressed to the girl's chest. Clary closed her eyes, losing herself in the steady thumping of Isabelle's heart beneath her ear.

"I think I'll be okay, breakfast after?" Clary asked finally, separating herself from the warm sense of safety her partner provided.

"You bet." Isabelle retorted, the corners of her lips tugging up into a small smile. Warmth blossomed in Clary's chest at the sight and unable to resist, she leaned in for a chaste kiss before allowing her lover to leave.

The click of the door closing behind Isabelle flicked a switch inside Clary, she let her face fall, attempting to rub the itchy tiredness from her eyes and ultimately failing. She sighed to herself, discarding her clothes haphazardly on the floor and climbing into the shower.

Clary turned the gleaming silver tap to the side, adjusting the shower to a far colder setting than she usually liked. She shivered for a moment under the spray but soon adjusted. She stood quietly, hopping from one foot to the other thinking to herself, her mind clouded with the thoughts of everything her father had said and done. She wondered if he even had the capacity to love more than one person. From what she had observed of Valentine it truly did seem like he loved her mother. No matter what views Jocelyn had of him, what she did, he still wanted to be with her, he hadn't genuinely wanted to harm Jocelyn and since her death, his emotions had spiralled significantly. Valentine's love of Jocelyn was one of the few things he hadn't twisted.

Yet the relationship he had with Jace as his son was nothing alike. He viewed Jace as his possession, his creation. He had attempted to preach that he cared for the blonde-haired boy but when it came down to it he had no qualms about hurting him or even killing him if he had to.

Clary wasn't sure where she fit in. Valentine had commented about the similarities between herself and her mother, yet he still seemed to despise her. She wondered if Valentine blamed her for it all, or if the only relationship they were ever meant to have was supposed to be abusive.

Clary turned her face toward the oncoming droplets of water. They splashed against her eyelids and cheeks, the cold working to wash away the tiredness that set in her features and assisting the residual burning pain in ebbing away, washing it down the drain with all of the negative thoughts at the forefront of her mind.

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By the time Clary had finished with her morning rituals, her more depressing thoughts locked away in the darkest compartment of her brain for another time, the others had already gathered in the sitting room and were engaged in watching a show on the TV. She smiled to herself, poking her nose around in the fridge for something to eat. She could hear familiar sounds playing out from the entertainment display next door and loosely identified them as belonging to one of the criminal investigation shows she used to watch with Simon all the time.

Not really finding anything appetising on the glass shelves before her, Clary opted to simply grab an apple before heading through to the other room. The guys paid little attention to her as she entered the room but Isabelle's eyes found her immediately, watching Clary with rapt attention as she crossed the room to plop down onto the couch next to the dark-haired girl.

"I was beginning to think you might not show" Isabelle joked, easily falling into a comfortable position next to the red-haired girl, one arm draped around her artists' small shoulders.

Clary smiled up at Isabelle, her head falling back on the girl's shoulder.

For Clary, the events of the night before played back in her mind over and over again. Since she had learned about her shadowhunter heritage tragedy seemed to follow behind her like a dark cloud, just when she thought she was finished dealing with one situation another occurred and the emotions continued to build up inside her, threatening to overflow.

In front of her, a fire roared on the television screen as two agents struggled through the burning wreck, instinctively she flinched away from the sight, her eyes drawn to the fidgeting hands in her lap.

"Clary, I think you need to tell me what happened," Luke noted, turning the TV off with the click of a small red button before tossing the black remote onto the coffee table.

Clary could see Jace sense beside Alec, his hand flying to his neck as an odd look passed over his usually smug features. Clary chuckled softly to herself, at least she wasn't the only one hiding something.

Turning to Luke, Clary struggled to form the words in her throat, she let her eyes drift to Isabelle's and then to Jace's as if silently pleading for them to help her.

"You guys were taking care of things on the deck so Isabelle and I slipped away into the boat, we wanted to find Clary as quickly as possible." Jace started, his golden eyes appraising Luke as he spoke, trying to gauge how much to tell the werewolf. "We got cut off by Abbadon, it delayed us significantly, we couldn't get away until back-up arrived." Clary could hear the regret in Jace's voice, with every word it became harder for him to speak.

"When Alec, mom and Inquisitor Herondale arrived they took over for us and we managed to get away again. By the time we made it to the room Valentine was holding them in Simon's throat had already been slashed and Clary..." Isabelle's eyes shone and the girl hesitated, her bottom lip vibrating as she struggled to contain her emotions. "Clary was limp, she was barely breathing, beaten and bruised. It was one of the hardest things I've had to see but it couldn't compare to what happened after."

Clary looked back and forth between Isabelle and Jace for a moment, neither of them appearing to want to continue the story. To Clary's surprise, the image of a rune flashed behind her eyelids, gone in the blink of an eye. She slammed her eyelids shut and concentrated for a moment, willing the simple rune to resurface. When it did, she instinctively grabbed her stele and traced it on her skin before stepping towards her father figuring and extending her hand out to him.

Luke looked at her inquisitively for a moment, one brow arched in a quizzical manner as he reached out to clasp Clary's offered hand.

The moment their skin connected Clary felt her eyes roll up into her head almost painfully, she could feel her mind stretching outwards and meeting with Luke's, the connection straining her head painfully rousing a thumping headache.

She heard a strained gasp fall from Luke's lips as the memories played systematically before their eyes. Showing Luke the disrupting of the rune, the battle with Valentine, sinking into the water, touching the inky black rune in front of the mirror and the anxiety attacks that followed, then finally, the dream.

Feeling disturbed by her lack of control over the situation Clary put all her strength into wrenching her hand free of Luke's. She fell backwards onto the floor, suddenly aware of the multiple sets of eyes trained on her. She felt tears prickling at her eyes, her vision blurring as the tears threatened to spill. She hadn't wanted Luke to see the vulnerable moment she'd had in the bathroom, or the effect it had on her.

"Clarry... I..." Luke started, his own eyes shining dangerously, his composure threatening to crack. "I felt everything the pain, how you felt." He ground out, so many emotions passing over his features that Clary couldn't follow them.

"It's not that bad," Clary said passively, pushing thoughts of the rune marring her throat to the back of her mind. She worried her lip between her teeth. It surprised her how much better she felt after sharing the experience with Luke, it comforted her to know he knew exactly what she had gone through, though she still wished she had been able to keep some moments private.

"Clary, I hope you believe me when I say I'm proud of what a strong young woman you've become. If you need to talk about anything don't hesitate to ask me" Luke elucidated, falling back into the comfy armchair he had been poised in, his expression fatherly, and full of concern. He watched her for a moment, his eyes piercing into hers and then in a decided twist, he turned to Jace. "So Jace, do you want to tell me how Simon survived and can now walk in the daylight."

"He was dying, I let him drink my blood," Jace answered, his voice much calmer than he looked as the words passed his lips.

"I see... That was a very honourable decision on your part, then." Luke praised, giving the blonde-haired boy a kind smile, not missing the look of relief that passed over the boys face. "Just be sure you understand it might have some backlash on Simon if people were to find out, we need to make sure he understands that before he goes gallivanting around in the sun. There are plenty of people who would kill to know how he does it. Anyway, we're going to be taking the next week for recovery, no complaints about it, the Clave will be busy scouring the waters of the East River for the Instruments lost there but I doubt they will find them. Either way, Valentine will need time to regroup and redirect his plan so I predict he'll be quiet for a week or two as well, we'd be as well take the time to make sure we're all healthy and get some training in before we attack this case again." He surveyed them with a sad smile before heading out of the room, presumably ready to hand in the report to the Inquisitor.

"Every time we come close to Valentine he wriggles away from us but he also becomes more manic with every plan we ruin. It's only a matter of time before we get him for good, once he's dead I'll be able to rest easier." Jace yawned, stretching backwards and thumping his heels down onto the coffee table.

Clary toyed with Isabelle's soft fingers, stealing quick glances of the beautiful girl beside her. Luke's short speech was a reminder that Valentine was still out there, though Clary couldn't help but feel achieved in their small victory. By interrupting Valentine's plans they had delayed him again and bought more time, however, it was entirely possible that Valentine's next plan could lead to an all-out war, with the Clave becoming more and more involved it was hard to tell.

"Whatever he throws at us next, we'll get through it as a family." Alec smiled, his blue eyes gleaming in the soft light of the room.

"Alright, I can't stay awake I'm sorry guys." Clary uttered sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck for a brief moment before rising from the couch, a slight swaying to her form.

"Back to bed then, have fun boys." Isabelle chuckled, her hands finding Clary's waist to once again guide the unsteady red-head.

"Thanks, Izzy." Clary breathed once they crossed the threshold into her room. She made her way straight over to the bed and flopped onto it unceremoniously. The corners of her lips twitching as her partner snickered.

"What's next for us, Clary?" Isabelle asked nonchalantly as she climbed into bed. It was still daylight but Clary was so exhausted she didn't care and Isabelle didn't seem to mind either.

"I don't know but whatever we do next will be amazing no matter what, as long as you're there," Clary replied, her tone full of love and adoration.

"You're too cute. You believe in us that much already?" Isabelle's soft warm arms drew Clary under the covers and up against her toned body. Clary had to suppress an appreciative whimper at the contact. She relished the closeness of her partner, nuzzling the pale skin of her neck affectionately.

"Well, the Seelie Queen said we're soulmates, I've no reason to doubt that." Fatigue seeped into her words, Isabelle's warmth pacifying her into a sense of safety. It felt as if her eyes were being willed closed by an unseen force.

It didn't take long for the girls to drift off, each content to sleep in the safety of the others arms.