If you're confused- I basically re-wrote this story because I hated it where I took it and now I'm re-uploading the better, finished version. Don't read the reviews if you don't want spoilers. (But I read em'. so leave me one :))

The phase "Time heals all wounds." Has probably been said over and over by Luke to Clary the last few weeks, at least 4000 times, give or take. Clary didn't agree. Sometimes, no amount of time can fill the void left in you; She had done all the 'prescribed' methods that members of the Clave had given her, whether she asked for their opinions or not. "Getting back to normal" was difficult when the "Normal" had become Valentine making attempts on her life. The only advise that Clary had found even remotely helpful was to throw herself into Training. She trained so hard that sometimes Clary felt like her heart would explode in her chest. Mundanes would say that having a good 'support system' is what you need in times of crisis, but that one's pretty difficult to achieve when your friends can't get far enough away from you. Isolation is not what they say helps, but recently it's the only thing that seems to be a constant in Clary's life.
In moments of stillness such as this one, as Clary lay in the bleak spare room in Luke's house with her eyes glued to the ceiling, that Clary felt the waves of the last few weeks wash over her as they often did on Nights when she couldn't sleep, which was most nights recently. Naturally, all most every part of her life changed after she ripped apart her father's boat, even though Jace had made sure no one knew what she had done.
The thought of Jace made a different kind of pain wash over her. The last time she spoke to him was in the days after the boat, he had told her he was just going to be her brother from now on, after that she just about made it out of his arms and onto the subway before falling to pieces. Jace was in Idris, with the rest of his family. The Clave meeting they had gone to attend turned into what Isabelle had phrased over the phone before they left as "Family Time." Clary had to resist the urge to scream at Isabelle down the phone.
And Simon. Simon had broken off their relationship to be friends again, unsurprisingly. And Clary was happy to watch him embrace his new-found tolerance to day light and spend some much-needed time in the "real world" as he called it. But playing video games and going to band practise isn't the real world, not to Clary. How could she forget? How could Anyone? Despite the awkward romance between them gone, Clary didn't feel closer to Simon. It was like she was drifting away from him in a whole new way. Simon wasn't even here. His mom had taken him and Rebecca to Italy for 2 weeks for the anniversary of his father's death. Clary had known he was leaving- it was an annual trip they had taken since his Dad died. Clary knew he didn't want to go this year- because of her. He didn't think he'd be able to, but since he became a day lighter, Clary wouldn't hear of him missing it. She owed him that.
Clary peeled her covers off herself and headed for her door. Luke's house was dark, and the stove clock glowed dimly in the kitchen as she padded in.
She crossed the kitchen in search of a glass of water. she made no noise as she walked. The soundless rune on her ankle was to thank for that; Runes still looked unfamiliar on her skin. Applying them was something she had taught herself, unlike most Shadowhunters in training, who get to learn about marks and applying them by a tutor. Clary had no such tutor; All she had was the Book of Grey, a Stele and her own gift.
The runes were fairly recent, she had started physically training a few days after the lightwoods left. Sometimes on her own, sometimes with the people who the clave sent to run the institute in Maryse's absence. Clary liked them, they helped her get started and she even had been out hunting with them a few times; she learnt best on her feet.
The sounds of Luke's key in the door startled Clary as she was rooting through the fridge, crying out as her head makes impact with the door as she jumped. She spun on her heals, grumpily clutching her head and frowning, to find Luke sheepishly grinning at her from the door. Luke's parenting skills have their ups and downs, but he really does try his best. When Luke is not at Clary's mother's bed side, he is leading the pack, when he is not doing that, he is catching up on sleep. He often doesn't come home until the late hours of night.
"Sorry." Luke smiled at her apologetically as he shut the door behind him, squinting to see anything in the pitch black room aside from Clary, illuminated by the fridge light. "Why the hell are all the lights off?"
"Because," Clary said." its 1 in the morning, Luke."
This was a normal thing for them recently, dumping into each other though out the night, either one coming or going somewhere.
"Oh," Luke rubbed his eyes, abandoning the attempt to turn the lights on. "Sorry. Dealing with the pack-"
Clary could see, even in the dark, Luke was slightly swaying with exhaustion. "Its fine. Go to bed though, seriously Luke."
Luke was already on his way. He grunted a good night in her direction and ruffled her hair as her went past her to his room, shutting the door behind him. She followed, going back into her own room.
She flopped onto her bed. Sleep was almost a foreign concept recently. Everything she pushed out of her mind during the day, bubbled back as she tried to sleep; there isn't much escape from your own thoughts. Clary rolled over, and stared out of the window at the sky. It was dark, lit slightly orange with the city lights. You didn't really see stars living in such a major city. At Luke's farm house, the stars were so clear, they looked like paint splatters across the sky. Clary could never get a photograph of them, though. No matter how many times she tried. She took the mental picture she had of them, and tired her best to count all the stars, hoping for sleep.

X

The hospital smell still was still stuck to Clary's clothes, as she made her way into the New York Institute The next day. She made a habit of Visiting Jocelyn on her way to the Institute. Clary knew that Luke spent so much time there that he didn't even notice the smell anymore, but Clary usually showered at the Institute, so she could wash it off her.
It had been quiet at the Institute without the lightwoods. She spent a lot more time here though, recently; Taking advantage of the empty training room, prowling the vast shelves of the library, and even just exploring. The building was huge, and she had spent a lot of time just wondering down halls, occasionally bumping into Church, who seemed to also enjoy being alone here.
She made her way into the small, surprisingly normal looking kitchen of the institute. The smell of food made Clary's stomach turn, her appetite was completely lost in the few weeks prior. It was difficult to eat when your life had you constantly on the edge of throwing up all the time. The smell emanated from a bowl of soup, sitting on the table. Caleb was looking down at it in disgust. Caleb Whitetail was the sent by the clave, along with this brother to run things in the Lightwoods absence. He slightly older than Clary's age. His face was attractive, he had grey eyes that tuned down ever so slightly on the outer comers and long eye lashes; this paired with his dark complexation and black wavy hair made him extremely easy on the eyes. He looked up as she entered the room.
"This soup tastes like the east river smells." He grumbled at her as a greeting.
Clary rolled her eyes at him. "Don't eat it then."
He scrunched his nose up and pushed the bowl of grey liquid away from him. She didn't think it was possible for anyone to be a worse cook then Isabelle was. Caleb had surprised her. Clary and Caleb had become fast friends, he had hung out with her and Simon a few times, He had even let Simon teach him how to play Mario cart. Caleb had only one older sibling, Emmet, who Clary had only really spoke to on hunts or in the training room. Emmet looked a lot like Caleb, but his hair was cut short and neat, unlike the black messy waves that tumbled over Caleb's forehead. Keeping it at arms length he tipped the soup down the drain. " Don't eat in then." He playfully threw back at her, mimicking her tone
"I so do not sound like that."
"you so do."
"Are you using the training room today?" She inquired, cocking an eyebrow.
"No, Emmet needs me to go up-town about something." He rolled his eyes. "Boring."
Clary nodded. She knew it was strange for Emmet and Caleb to be running the institute, Emmet being only five or six years older than Caleb.
"However." He grinned at her, discarding the bowl into the sink. "Emmet said that someone reported a rumour about a Drevak demon roaming around down-town last night, I was planning to go take a look later. You in?"
Hunting had been one of Clary's favourite parts of training. Surprisingly, Clary had expected to hate the fighting. The whole of her life was war and blood and Battles, but hunting was something else. A Danger she was in control of. They gave her a rush, and she liked the feeling of being able to win for once. Emmet or Luke always came with them, neither of them trusting that they could cope on their own, but she suspected it was mainly her they were worried about. Either way, Clary could still feel that old familiar bubble of excitement as she nodded enthusiastically.

X

The training room was kept stocked with gear of all sizes, and Clary was lucky that included kids. The women's sizes fit her bust wrong and pooled at the ankles. She tugged the gear on and strapped it in place- something that was integral to Shadowhunter training. Being able to get your own gear on as quickly as possible- She had even timed herself before. Clary spent the whole day in here, focusing mainly on punching and kicking the targets, not being aloud to use any actual weaponry in here on her own.
The doors of the room thumped against the wall as Clary was pulling the tough zip of her jacket up. Caleb bounded across the room, dressed in gear. Despite never mentioning it, Clary got the feeling that his family was rich. The gear jacket he wore wasn't standard Institute gear; it was Black, with grey runes woven into the fabric that were only visible when he caught the light. "Ready to go kick some Drevak Ass?" He punched the air and did a karate pose, wiggling his eyebrows.
Clary nodded. "Although," She said. "I don't think they have an 'ass' per-say. They have gross, gross tails."
He tutted at her as he plucked a throwing knife off the rack on the wall. "Don't kill my buzz. I'm in the mood for some bad-ass demon hunting and nothing can pee on my parade, not even gross, gross Drevak demon tails." He turned on his heels and continued karate kicking and punching into the air as he strode towards door, wooping as he went.
Clary had already strapped two Seraph Blades to her gear and was jogging to keep up with him. "Where are we meeting Emmet?"
"Ah," Caleb glanced at her. "He's not coming." His flailing karate arms now dropping to his sides. Clary stopped in her tracks. Caleb rolled his eyes. "C'mon, you know what he's like. Busy busy busy. Its nothing we can't handle."
"I really don't think this is a good idea."
Caleb had started walking again. "Well I'm going, So you can either come with me or sit around here worrying about poor, weak me. All alone out there. Without a Clary to help me out."
Clary narrowed her eyes at Caleb, with some trepidation, she followed him up the hall.

X

Clary's uneasiness about Emmet not coming with them soon resurfaced as they walked from the subway though the dark empty streets. They always took Emmet or Luke on missions, Clary had only faced a demon alone once, and it knocked her out for days, had Jace not followed her back to her mother's apartment that day she would have died from the venom. That demon happened to also be a Drevak Demon.
"Are we nearly there?" Clary rubbed her hands together and jogged along. The cold bit at her face and fingers. They had taken side streets and alley ways, each with little or no light in, littered with rubbish. Clary could hear the faint thumping of music in the distance.
Caleb was looking down at his phone, frowning. "I think so?" The teenagers looked around. They stood in a dimly lit alley. Dumpsters and boxes leaning against the walls.
Clary frowned. "I though you said we were going to a Club?"
"Well," Caleb said, shoving his phone this pocket. "This is the address I got. I guess the club is next door." Caleb started kicking around litter and boxes.
Clary did the same, gingerly moving mouldy boxes around with her feet, not really sure what to do without Emmet or Luke's direction. "I still don't think this is a good idea-"
Caleb Looked up from the Trash can he was peering into, and gestured around into the Empty street. "Yeah. You're right. This is just way, way to dangerous. How will we cope against all these forces of evil?"
"Oh, you know what I mean."
"I wouldn't worry." Caleb discarded the lid of the trash Can. "I don't think we're gonna find anything. This place is dead. There aren't even any Rats."
Clary stopped, and glanced around the alley way. there weren't any rats, Which was odd for any downtown Alley way. She met eyes with Caleb. Even though the Alley way was quiet, a hush seemed to have fallen.
Caleb stepped towards her. "Yeah, you know maybe-" Caleb was cut short by the dumpster at the end of the alley way tripping over onto its side.
The two Shadowhunters both reached slowly for their weapons as they made steps towards the now twitching slightly dumpster. Clary's heart beat in her ears as she approached. They paused, having a silent conversation with their eyes

Clary stepped towards the dumpster, which was still. No sighs of movement apart from litter blowing out and around it. That was, until the giant, slimy tentacle that Clary hadn't noticed wrap its self around her foot, viciously yanked her ankle, pulled her feet from under her, she yelped as she hit the floor. The arm was attached to a mass, sliding out of the dumpster. It was human shaped: two legs, two arms, a head, Only this head had no features on it except for a large gaping hole, with rows of teeth and worms spilling out of it. In fact, worms made up this whole creature. Millions of worms, slimy and crawling. It was completely made of these repulsive, fat, grey worms. And was now standing over Clary, dripping worm gunk on her gear. Caleb yanked Clary up and drew his blade out, as he watched the disgusting creature grow out from the dumpster.
"What is that?" Clary asked, pausing to catch her breath.
Caleb kicked out at the dumpster, sending it back at the Demon. It was absorbed into the creature, and spat out on the other side. "That," He said. "Is not a Devrak."
"Barachiel!" Clary cried, and her blade came to life, Illuminating her face. They exchanged a nod, and Caleb sprang into action. The demon Lunged for Caleb, whom sidestepped out of its grasp and instead brought the blade down onto the out stretched arm, severing it entirely. The arm fell to the ground, and was absorbed into the leg on the beast as its arm grew back, crawling and splattering Incor to the floor.
"No way." he breathed. The demon came at him again, he ducked under and rolled.
Clary had been standing back slightly. The demon was re-growing what ever they cut off, and she watched as Caleb hacked and stabbed fruitlessly at it. She stepped right back, remembering what she had learnt in training. When in doubt, take it's head off.
She charged towards the wall, jumped and used it to launch herself over the demon's arms, and before Caleb could cry out to stop her attempted at severing the head, she landed on its shoulders and wrapped her legs around its neck. Her amazement in herself lasted a glorious 5 seconds before, to everyone's horror, Clary started to sink into the beast. Shrieking, Clary started to hack chunks of the demon away, panic taking over. Caleb had no time to think, he charged the demon with everything he had, bringing his blade down in an arch as he made impact. The demon Blew apart. Clary was sent flying forwards, her head cracking on the concreate as she landed, as well as her hand crunching beneath her. Fragments of demon went everywhere. On the walls, floor, all over Clary and Caleb, who had been thrown backwards. Clary rolled over, she spat out a mouth full of blood and chunks of Demon flesh. She gagged.
Groaning, Clary sat up. "Is – is it dead?"
"I think so?" He rose to his feet, frowning. "Are you alright?"
"My wrist is broken." She said, getting to her feet. She cradled the twisted, numb hand to her chest as Caleb flapped around.
"My Stele." He said, angrily. "It's eaten my stele!"
Clary glanced at the ground behind Caleb, and froze. "Caleb-"
"By the Angel, That was my favourite one, as well-" he rambled on, patting his pockets down.
"Caleb-"
" Emmet is going to Kill me. Third one this week. He's actually going to destroy me this time, By the Angle, Clary. What even was tha-"
Clary grabbed Caleb with her good hand and spun him, facing what she could see over his shoulder. The mashed up, exploded demon chucks were rolling together, fanatically rebuilding its self. Clary was on her feet with her blade in hand but Caleb's blade was probably landing in the east river by now, the exploding demon sent it flying out his hand, so he armed himself with the throwing knife.
Clary's stomach sank. "Caleb, we need to Call for help."
Caleb reached into his inside jacket pocket. Relief bubbled across his face when he found it there. Screen cracked but lit up none the less.
The Demon was even more disgusting now. Mashed up hunks of flesh joint together to make a mass of teeth, worms and Ichor. It Hurtled towards them. Caleb snapped his head up in time to be knocked back by Clary, pushing them both out of its path. Caleb's phone flew out of his hands, and Clary lost her Grip on the Seraph blade as her forehead made jarring impact with the Wall.
Caleb cried out and Clary could see him scrabble for the phone as the Demon turned- no, rolled- back towards them. Clary looked wildly around for her weapon, her eyes struggling to focus. Clary found the blade and whirled with it towards Caleb reaching for this phone under the dumpster. Clary called his name, and Caleb had a few seconds to throw himself out of the demon's way as it hurtled towards them- but the grotesque crunching sound of Caleb's arm being rolled over told her he wasn't quick enough. Clary Lifted her Blade- and threw it. The Seraph blade tore through the air questionably and lodged it's self into the demon at an angle. Clary threw her arms up- and the demon shattered. The hunks of crawling flesh tore apart and rained Ichor down on them like a Black storm. It splatted Clary's face and hands, burning the skin. The demon chunks seemed to flail and shriek, before disappearing. She was gasping for breath when she turned to face Caleb, but one look at his arm and her throat almost closed up. His arm, from the bicep down, was blue, turning black. The skin looked mangled from elbow to wrist and was oozing white and green puss as well as blood. He was covered in blood: his own, Clary's and Ichor. His usual brown skin had a grey tint that was either blood loss, or blood poisoning.
"Does it look bad?" Caleb asked frantically, Still on the floor either unwilling or un-able to get up. In response, Clary ripped her Jacket off, and wrapped it tightly around his arm.
"We need to get home. Okay? Like, really really fast." She put his good arm over her shoulder, leaning his weight against her. The pain this put Clary in was almost unbearable. She started forward, one step at a time, spitting out mouthfuls of blood as she went.

X

Getting to the Institute was a Blur. Clary could Barely stand by the time she threw their combined weight against the doors of the institute. They spilled out into the Entryway. Clary could see Caleb's Face now. He was foaming at the mouth. He's dead. He's dead.
Clary screamed for help- her voice echoed around the cathedral as she pressed her burnt face against the cold stone floor. Foot stepped bounded towards them- but the last thing that Clary could focus on, was the luggage stacked against the wall far wall. She frowned- and then there was nothing.