→ it’s crashing lately, your echoing heartbeat, echoing heartbeat

[creatio]

CHARACTERS: Clary Fray, Jace Herondale, Kimberly Hart + open prompts.
LOCATIONS: All around Cadelle.
WARNINGS: Spoilers for the end of Shadowhunters s2, mentions of death & murder, general angst.
SUMMARY: Returning from her canon update, maybe crying a little lot.

closed to jace.

( She'd only meant to leave for an afternoon, half a day, enough to reassure her worries that her best friend and father figure were safe and well. She'd told people she was doing it too, waving off concern with friendly charm and happiness. Everything would be fine, she'd be back, she just needed to see and make sure, so that she could finally stop stressing. She hadn't expected what would follow.

Jonathan, Sebastian, so much fighting and too many secrets, a war they couldn't win looming ever present, losing Izzy's closeness in the chaos, Dot, pain and agony and finally, finally doing what needed to be done, Valentine's blood on her hands and splattered on the shore.

Jace.

Whatever the welcome committee tries to tell her falls on deaf ears. She doesn't even stop to accept her old communicator, instead she's pushing past them and away, out of the building as fast as she can. Her heart thuds heavily in her ears, the metal smell of blood filling her senses, bruises across her cheek. She doesn't think to pause and wash it off, uncaring for the wild way she looks as she sprints across town, she doesn't care that she doesn't know who's caked across her knuckles - Valentine, her, or Jace. His building is quiet as Clary takes the steps two at a time, panic lodged in her throat, hard and unyielding. It's been too long for her, how long was it for him? What if he wasn't here now? What if he's gone, body unmoving at the edge of Lake Lyn.

Her fists hammer on his door without care, Clary blinking back the tears that are still threatening to spill She needs to know, she needs to. He can't have gone, she can't be here without him. )

closed to kimberly.

( She goes home the next day. A very large part of her wants to stay, as if Jace will vanish the minute she looks away. But she also knows she needs this, that she needs her friends, her cat, her home. If she doesn't try she might go crazy. At least by now Clary's washed off the dirt, has healed the bruises with an iratze, she's wearing her jeans and a shirt that belongs to Jace, and she'd look normal if it weren't for the way her eyes have gone hollow. She needs to sleep, she knows that. But it isn't coming easy.

Clary lets herself into the Barbie house quietly, her welcome committee a tinny bell as Simba jumps from where he's perched to amble towards her. She wastes no time in picking him up, clutching him to her chest, face buried in his fur. Breathing in, Clary kicks the door closed behind her and calls out. ) Kimberly?

( She hopes the other girl is here, but she'll wait if she isn't. )

open i.

( She'd texted the people who needed to know by now, but as for any questions, Clary hadn't been able to answer them without the ever present knot in her throat. Mostly she wants to hide away until it stops hurting, but that's not the kind of girl she is. Eventually she has to find her way back.

Which is why she forces herself out of bed, fills her backpack with her sketchbook and her pencils, a flyer from the university tucked between the pages. She stops at Wake & Bake for a coffee, before heading to the park. It's much more peaceful out there, and so Clary folds her legs beneath her when she takes up a picnic table, jams her headphones in her ears, and starts to sketch the scene in front of her. )

open ii.

( She is officially the worst employee in the world. Not only because she disappeared for half a week without giving Magnus a heads up, but also because it takes her days after the fact to even return. Eventually though, Clary pushes the door open, bell ringing above her head. She spends the rest of the day mindlessly tidying up, or doing her best to answer questions on things she knows nothing about - seriously, inseams, she'll just leave a note. That or she's curiously poking through the potions that have cropped up in her absense.

Either way, Clary Fray is back. She needs a drink. Or five. And distraction. )

wildcard.

( I'm at athosing or Sarah#9964 on discord if you want to plan anything specific. )

Comments

[creatio]

( He's alive. He's real and he's solid and he's right there, safe and breathing and alive. Clary makes a strangled, sobbing noise, the tears she'd been fighting until now escaping past her damp eyelashes. Her hands move to curl around his back, clinging to him like he's the only thing that could stop her from being washed away with grief. )

I thought you'd be gone. I thought I'd come back and you wouldn't be here.

( She'd thought she'd lost him, like she loses everyone she cares about in the end. Adrenaline courses through her veins, shaking at her bones, Clary can't hide the tremble in her touch. She doesn't know what to do with all the fight still in her. All she can do is tuck herself against him, cheek pressed to his shoulder, desperation keeping her eyes on the pulse beating in his throat. Breathing feels impossible, but with each inhale she manages to claw herself back from the edge. He smells like soap, and he's warm, but every time she closes her eyes she sees him pale and bloodied.

It takes her what feels like forever to pull back enough to look at him. The feeling that wells up in her when she does is like the moment before a fall, the lurch forward. Clary swallows hard, lifts her hands to cup his face with one and brush his hair back with the other. He's so beautiful that it aches. She'd known how she felt for him before, but now she knows what she'd give up for him too.

She can never go home. Not now. )

I love you.

( It's soft, because Jace has always shied away from that. But it has to be said now. )

I love you so much, Jace.

[obdurates]

( Fear presents itself in different ways; mixing with adrenaline on the battlefield, stealing breath from you during quiet moments. Unlike what's to be found in Clary's gaze. A type that shakes the core. He's never seen her react this way before. Looking very much the young girl she actually was; swallowing thickly, fingers curl in her hair, his heart bursting and aching from an onslaught of emotion. )

I'm not going anywhere, Clary. Not without you.

( Pieces of the puzzle beginning to come together; stubbornly denying to reveal the whole. Having her close again is all it takes; the warmth, Clary's smaller framer fitting perfect, breath tickling his skin. A blinding reminder of just how much he's missed her. Those words, though. They strike a more solid blow than any opponent managed before.

I love you.

Love; the greatest weakness, or so the lessons he was taught once upon a time implied. She doesn't feel that way. If it means to be destroyed then he wants to be destroyed by her. Ruined. The confidence and swagger to be typically found in Jace's tone disappears. An undercurrent reverberates in each syllable; shaky, raw and vulnerable. )

I... ( Threatens to choke him; the fervent beating of his heart eclipsing anything else. ) I-I love you.

( Reaching for her hand, he gently leads Clary into the apartment, bringing her knuckles upwards, inspecting the dried blood. ) Tell me. Who hurt you? Why you're shaking.

( A tension forces Jace's jaw to clench; instincts flooding throughout his body, fanning the desire to make anyone that would do this to Clary pay. )

[creatio]

( He sounds so lost when he says the words back to her. There's a responding ache in her throat at how they're grazed coming from him. It's another thing Valentine had taken, and Clary feels a wash of anger flood through her. They've been cheated out of so much, they didn't deserve this. But she will keep saying them now, here, every day if she has to, she'll find a way to press them beneath Jace's skin until he believes her, until he stops hurting from the truth of it. )

It's not mine.

( She can't tell him. She can't. The thought of trying to explain feels like it could crush her. Clary doesn't know what she's going to do, how she'll convince him to stay here in Cadelle, to remain where he's safe and alive. Without his parabatai, without the future, what can she do to convince him? It's selfish, so selfish, but she's sure he'd go if he were told, that he'd leave just to change fate. She can't risk that, she can't risk losing him. )

Valentine --. ( A pause, choked off. Clary squeezes his fingers in her own, makes sure she holds his gaze. ) Valentine's dead.

( Her voice is hollow, but there's no remorse in it. Just the cold edge of shock. ) I killed him.

( A part of her, small and fragile, is worried how he'll react to that. Valentine destroyed them, but he's still the man who raised Jace. His feelings for their tormentor are even more complicated than Clary's own. )

[obdurates]

Valentine. ( Emotions flicker through his expression; unsettled, deviating from one to another. Dead. No way of preparing for the onslaught. Something happened to force Clary's hand. To kill her own father. He's played through that scenario in his head a million times over; what it would be like to exact revenge, end the life of his abuser. In half of them, there's a moment of hesitation. A monster may have raised him but he did raise him.

Would he have the strength that Clary did? Evidence painted across her knuckles. Anger doesn't rear its fiery head; concern, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. What did she go through during her absence? )

We both knew he had to be stopped. ( The statement too impersonal; for as much as it is, this...isn't really about shadowhuter business or the clave. Just the two of them. ) Clary... ( Meeting her gaze, no remorse is to be found in her expressive eyes ) He hurt you, didn't he? I know you. And if that's what happened, you didn't have a choice.

( He hates himself; that even a tiny fraction of grief slithers into his heart over the man who murdered his parents. Who used the woman that Jace loved as a leverage point. Swallowing hard, blonde strands of hair fall to the front of his face, and he slides in closer to her ) I should've protected you from ever having to do that.

[creatio]

He --.

( He had hurt her, deeply. But not in the way Jace is thinking. Clary feels like she's going to shake apart any second now, the adrenaline and the fear at war with the soothing balm of Jace's closeness. She wants to let herself sink into his worried touches, his concerned closeness, but every time she looks at him her mind flashes to the shore, to how he looked so pale, so still. She will do whatever it takes to get him back, and if that proves impossible then she won't ever leave here. Clary doesn't want to live in a world without him in it. She doesn't think she can. )

I won't say I'm sorry for it. ( She looks at him, eyes flashing with something. Stubborn refusal to be apologetic, maybe, or the kind of anger she needs to keep her standing. There had been something vicious that unfurled inside her when she'd ran the blade through her father, something vengeful. Funny that killing him was the very moment that she embodied the girl they all thought she was. Valentine's Daughter. ) I can't --. I wanted it to just stop. He'd taken too much, and he was going to --. So many people have been hurt because of him. I had to. I wanted to. ( Her voice gets wet and weak again and she looks away, using the dirty sleeve of her jacket to wipe at her face.

More gently. ) But I know that it's different for you, so I'm sorry for -- for whatever it is you're feeling now. ( Grief, pain, resentment. She'd caused that. Shame adds itself to the cocktail of her emotions and she looks down at her hands, at the blood caked into them. She needs to wash it off. )

Can I --? I need to clean up.

( Maybe she should burn everything. )

[obdurates]

You don't have to justify it. Not to me. ( Times before coming here, the point of breaking lingered nearby, ushering to welcome him with open arms. Clary kept his strength; maintained his faith. Even when it hurt to look at her in such a way. Doubt towards her doesn't present itself; it never could. Sometimes she's the only person he really sees. During that first night, when her world came tumbling down, she still wore her heart out in the open, free for anyone to see. He never forgot that.

Nodding, a jolt of resolve travels the length of his spine, giving him what he needed. To be what he wanted to for Clary. ) Valentine was a monster. That was never going to change. ( Eyes following the line of her gaze, towards the blood caking her pale skin, it felt as if some unseen force wrapped itself around his heart ) What I'm feeling now? It's...just for you, Clary. Not him.

( Again and again she's proven how strong she is; that she didn't need everyone to leap to her defense, or treat her as if she's made of glass. It doesn't change what's inside of him. The desire to fight her battles for her; to protect. Reaching out, his fingertips glide down her cheek, trailing along the curve of her jaw. )

Yes. ( There's a struggle; inner turmoil wracking through his brain. Give her space, allow her this moment of privacy to cleanse herself...but at the same time, not wanting to step back, or create any space. To be right there with her and show her that it's okay. ) I can wait in the living room. ( He doesn't move, not immediately. Instead, his voice lowers, still audible. ) I missed you.

[creatio]

I won't leave you again, okay? I promise.

( It sounds like an oath when she says it, voice firm for the first time since she arrived at his apartment. Clary turns her face into his palm, lips pressed to the center. For a moment she lets herself focus on this. Jace, warm and real and so very alive. For a moment she lets herself pretend she never went anywhere in the first place. That instead they'd spend the time enjoying each other's company in a place evil hadn't touched. )

I think --. ( A furrow of her brow, hand coming up to cover his. ) I think we should think about staying here. For good, you know? ( She knows it's impossible. Sooner or later something will happen. Jace will miss Alec. He'll miss Isabelle, and Max, and home. Sooner or later he'll want to see for himself. But right now it's all she can hope for. That he might believe her. That he might agree. ) You should really get some furniture.

( It's half-hearted, lifting her gaze to his. The smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. )

I'm going to borrow a shirt, okay? Just -- don't go anywhere. I'll be quick.