Summary: What happens when Clary bumps her head and forgets the recent things that have happened to her? Does she forget all of her training and the heartbreak from the past months? What happens to her relationships with her friends and family? What happens with Jace?

Hi! This is my first fan fic, just seeing how it goes and if anyone likes it. I love the TMI books but sadly the characters from them do not belong to me, only the plot of this fic. Please let me know anything you you think of it! :)

Ozzie

When Clary opened her eyes the first thing she saw was early morning light peeking thought the cracks in the curtains of a very clean room. Her head was resting on a soft pillow and there was a weight around her waist, her back pressed into a warm and solid figure. Her eyes widened and she looked behind her at the sleeping face of a boy.

She uttered a surprised cry and jumped out of the bed. The boy woke suddenly at the movement and cold air hitting his bare chest "Wha—" he exclaimed. He sat up and when he saw the space next to him empty his eyes scanned the room and rested on Clary's frightened form up against the wall, fingers splayed wide as if to help keep her from toppling over.

"Clary?" He asked bewilderedly and got out of the bed and took a few steps towards her. Despite her panicked thoughts her mind fleetingly admired how beautiful this boy was, a bronzed and muscular torso with pale hair that fell over molten gold eyes that swam in confusion.

Clary held up a hand. "Stay back!" She warned, eyes darting around for an escape. "Who are you? And why were you in bed with me? How do you know my name?" She found the door and made a break for it, not waiting for her questions to be asked, and sprinted past the boy and into a hallway lined with doors identical to the one she had just come out of, nearly running a cat who made an angry noise.

"Clary!" The boy called. Clary decided to go left and ran down the long hallway, turning right when the building made her. She turned a few more times and got spun around. This place is like a room of mirrors, she thought and ducked into one of the rooms, checking behind her first to make sure the half-naked boy was not following her. She opened another door within the room and found it was a bathroom. She quickly closed the door to the bathroom and sank down to lean against the tub. Her head began to pound and Clary closed her eyes for a moment before remembering her phone—her phone! Yes, of course, she could call someone! She felt the pockets of her jeans for her phone and came up empty handed.

"Shit," she muttered and pulled her hands through her hair. She had no idea what to do. In all of the self defense lessons or whatever at school they had only taught how not to get kidnapped or raped, not what to do if you actually were.

At a loss, Clary pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her ankles, feeling the cold of the porcelain tub spread throughout her back.

Swearing under his breath, Jace pulled a T-shirt over his head and followed Clary out into the hallway. He had no idea which way she had gone and glanced at Church, stalking along the wall with his fur standing on end. Jace decided not to bother the poor animal anymore than he already was. "Isabelle!" He called and was answered by an agitated "whaaat" from across the hall.

"Can you help me," he called, running his hands over his face. Isabelle's door opened and she faced him, hip jutted out with her fist placed on it.

"What now?" She sighed.

"Hey! I don't ask for help very often—" he stopped. "Whatever. Help me find Clary? She ran off…" Jace trailed off and shook his head. "Anyways I didn't hear the elevator being used so I think she's still in the Institute. Please." He added and turned away without bothering to look if Isabelle had stepped out. "I'll start this way."

Jace went down the hall to the next door and opened it, looking around the room and in the closet and bathroom. No Clary. He went to the next room and the next and the next.

After about twenty minutes he had looked into all of the rooms in the west wing of the Institute. There were only a few left, and since he hadn't heard Isabelle these last doors were his last hope of finding Clary and straightening this whole mess out.

He stepped into yet another room and looked around before opening the door to the bathroom. He saw her move and reached out to stop her only to realize she was moving away from him, cowering in the corner and not bringing her green gaze up to meet his. It was like a blow to the stomach, seeing her frightened of him. Clary had never been afraid of him, even when they first met all those months ago. She had challenged him and made him fall for her completely and now it was if those green eyes he loved so much were seeing him for the first time as some sort of demon. It was painful, physically painful.

He reached his hands out in a gesture of "I'm not going to hurt you" and she flinched. Jace swallowed hard. "It's okay," he said in a soft voice as if he were talking to a wild animal he was trying to tame. "It's okay, I won't to touch you," he murmured, and slowly went to his knees, sitting back on his heels.

"Jace? Jace?" Isabelle called from the hallway. "I couldn't find—" she stopped abruptly when she walked in on the scene in the bathroom. "Clary, what's wrong?" Isabelle frowned, her eyebrows pulling low over her dark eyes.

"She doesn't remember," Jace said softly. He was gazing at Clary as he normally would have but now there was a wall between them, of inaccessibility, a barrier made up of his desperation to hold her and her fear of him.

"She doesn't remember what?" Isabelle asked.

"Anything," Jace whispered, and his shoulders sagged now that the words had been spoken, as if before he said it, he didn't really believe it to be true. But now it was and he didn't know what to do.

"She doesn't remember anything."