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

Entry tags:

* dropped characters

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

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. )

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[Izzy had been, she felt, understandably worried when Clary had said she was going back just for a few hours. Nothing ever seemed to work out to plan with them, especially not for Clary, and when her friend doesn't return right away, when her texts continually go unanswered, she begins to worry. Even though she knows that Cadelle exists outside of their own timelines, she can't help but think something must have gone wrong. Or maybe Clary chose not to return, after all. It was always a possibility, and she wouldn't blame her. But she needed to know for sure.

When Clary finally texts her back, Izzy knows something is Up, but Clary proves a little more difficult than usual to track down, at first. After a day of vague texts and clever dodges, Izzy's patience runs thin, overrun by her increased worry.

It's 7am, two days after Clary has reappeared in Cadelle, and Izzy is at the door of the Barbie House, gently carving a rune above the deadbolt to unlock it before she lets herself in, shuts the door quietly behind her (and locks it again), and stalks silently to Clary's bedroom. She stands in the doorway for a moment, just watching Clary sleep, and before any kind of guilt can begin to worm its way in, walks over to her bed to climb up and sit cross-legged at the foot of it.

Before she wraps her hand around Clary's ankle and shakes it.]

( Thud. Bang, bang, bang. Noises reverberate; the sparsely furnished dwelling a showcase in acoustics. The cause doesn't register immediately; only through persistence does his reverie break, sleep's last vestiges leaving grogginess behind. Pounding; desperate and frantic, knuckles rapping against the door as if it were a barrier between matters of life and death.

Muscle memory kicks in; a pulse of tense energy flooding his body. He's out of bed before his thoughts have caught up with everything. Any circadian rhythm left jumbled and confused during Clary's absence. Without knowing what's beyond the door, he knows. Instinct. Something's wrong. Barefoot, he navigates the path in a half daze, the flight or fight response kept at bay through practiced willpower. When he grasps the doorknob, there's no hesitation left, pulling it backwards to reveal what's on the other side.

Words catch in his throat; eyebrows pulling together, making those millisecond observations training allows. Clary. Blood. Discoloration on her cheek; pleading and fear in her gaze that he's never seen before. Home. She's back and something's wrong. What? An event that's left her shaken.

For the first time in years, Jace's initial reaction isn't that of a solider. His brain doesn't fire in a tactical way. Love drives him forward; arms reaching out to grasp Clary and pull her in. An overwhelming need to provide shelter; cast out the pain so clearly etched into her expression. )

It's okay. ( Soft, barely whispered. Head tilted back, allowing their eyes to meet. ) Clary, it's okay. I've got you.

got your text
are you okay? you were gone a while

i'm okay.
stuff happened, i kind of got caught up in it.

( She is most definitely, one hundred percent not okay. But it's easy to pretend. It's easy to deflect. )

it feels so weird to know i've only really been gone for a week.
it feels like forever on my end.
you okay? anything happen?

( 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.

( She hasn't been sleeping well. Her dreams are all wrong now, muted colours and dark shadow. She has nightmares where all she can do is watch as Valentine stabs Jace again and again and again. It's left her feeling strung out and exhausted. Which is why it's surprising that she'd passed out long enough to lose her situational awareness. Clary jolts awake in a panic at the touch, heart thudding in her ears. The blade she'd been keeping under her pillow is in her hand in seconds and it's only when the sunlight from her window glints on it that she stops herself from trying to jam it into her best friend hand. )

Jesus Christ, Izzy.

( She drops the weapon quickly, adrenaline washing over her like a wave. Guilt is a clear second, twisting her stomach into anxious knots. She's at once so relieved to see the other girl, and desperately horrified by what she knows. It's why she's been so eager to hide. )

I'm sorry.

( Pushing her hair out of her face. ) You startled me. What are you doing here? Has something happened?

was it a week back home, too?

nothing happened, here. nothing out of the ordinary, anyway. i feel like i should be asking you if something happened, instead.

i might not understand but i'll listen

( normally, kimberly spent the week alternating between her own bedroom and her boyfriend's. there was no real rhyme or reason to one place or the other, just whatever wound up being more convenient in the moment. but when "a few hours" had turned into "a few days", as the days had stretched into nearly a full week, kimberly began to panic a bit. what if clary came home and no one was there to find her? what if she was ill or injured coming back, and needed someone to be there to help her? she wasn't going to risk it.

no, kimberly had gone so far as to start sleeping on the couch, just in case, so that she might hear her friend's return and be alert for it. she'd basically become a homebody over the last few days, ordering groceries in and taking a few sick days from work just to be on the alert. suffice it to say, kimberly hart was ready for clary to come home so that things could come back to normal.

so, while she was a little bit grouchy about getting woken up at least it was what she wanted. )

About fucking time. I was about to send out a goddamn SEAL team... ( a soft yawn escapes her, choked back by a swallow, and kimberly squints to get a better look at the other girl. sure, she may be in normal people clothing, but she knows her friend. that dead-eyed stare? that's not the clary she knows. ) Jesus, Clary.

( come on, redhead. kimberly doesn't hesitate to reach out, dropping simba without preamble in order to tug the other girl into her blanket cocoon on the couch. cuddling without asking, that's just the way these things go. )

Where have you been, huh?

( 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. )

( 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. )

( It's far too easy to let herself be tugged along, to allow Kimberly to ensconce her in blankets. Whatever plans she's concocted to keep her true feelings underwraps is thrown out immediately. She should have known she couldn't pretend. She should have known her nearest and dearest could see right through her.

For a moment she just breathes in slowly, out, lets the comfort of the Barbie House wash over her. It's good to be back. )

Sorry. ( Because she wasn't an afternoon, and because Kimberly's clearly been sleeping on the couch. ) It was harder than I thought to find the time to come back. Things just kept happening.

( It isn't the right kind of description, but Clary doesn't know what else to say. Instead she curls her arms around herself and leans just to rest her head against Kimberly's shoulder. )

Jace said I was less than a week. Did anything happen?

a month, i think.
it got kind of hard to track.
a lot of stuff happened.

( She rolls over to stare at her ceiling, thumb hovering over her phone screen. )

what are you doing right now?

You mean aside from the missing persons report I was going to file? ( kimberly huffs under her breath, heat bubbling out in an attempt to let that misguided irritation go out with it. she's not mad at clary. she's... stressed, a bit, because her best friend had gone missing. she's tense because she's spent the last who-knows-how-many days listening for any little sound or looking for any little clue that might tell her where she'd gone. but she's not mad. kimberly's relieved. ) No. Nothing happened.

( she's quiet for a moment, shifting to wrap her arms a little more snugly around clary's torso, fingertips of one hand carding softly through bright red strands. )

I... ( it's almost intimate, in a way that's strange to kimberly. she's never really been into girls the way she's liked men, but there's no doubt in her heart that she loves clary. like a sister, perhaps. fierce and devoted, someone who's clawed her way into her heart without fear or hesitation. if this was another world, her next words might have different meaning; in this one, it's genuine, but nothing more. ) I was worried about you. I couldn't stop thinking about what you said when you left. I thought — I thought something had happened to you, that you weren't coming back.

( she sniffs a bit, trying to quell her own emotions, trying to keep her focus on reassuring her friend with soft touches and gentle warmth. )

I kept thinking, what if she never comes back? I don't want to be here by myself, Clary. I don't want to share this house with somebody else.

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.

I'm watching Otis try to catch a squirrel
wanna join me?

please.
you at the park?

( She's just grabbing her backpack. Part of Clary thinks it would be wiser to just stay by herself, deal with this alone. But she needs the company. It's hard to not think about Jace dying when she's all by herself. )

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. )

I'm back now.

( Clary keeps her eyes closed, turns her cheek a little against her friend's shoulder. It's not quite a cure to the way she's been feeling, but it's enough of a balm that she feels some of the pent up panic ease from her chest. She'd almost forgotten what a home felt like, and the first time around she hadn't taken the house for what it was. But going back to a world where she had nowhere had made her see. This was where she belonged. In their bright little house with their friends and a future that could be found if only she grasped it.

None of these rooms had ghosts in them. )

I'm not going back again. This is it now. I can't leave.

( Jace is dead. Jace is dead, and everything she could have had has thoroughly slipped through her fingers. They'll have to force her out. Because she won't leave. )

I want to do what we were talking about. University. Settling. I want that.

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.

yeah, we are
otis missed you, so you better be on your way

[ One thing Baby is good at, is sitting without saying anything, if all she needs is some company. He'll share his earbuds with her, offer a hug, or a listening ear if that's what she needs. ]

i owe him a week of bellyrubs, of course i'm omw.

( It doesn't take her long at all - thanks to some hastily applied runes - and Clary at least has the energy to smile at Baby when she spots him. She still looks the same, if a little more worn around the edges. She hasn't been sleeping well. )

Hey.

( She takes the space beside him, throwing her backpack on the picnic table and bumping her shoulder to his in greeting. )

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.

[ When he sees her, Baby grins, waving her closer, and the moment she's sitting by his side, he slides an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. The way he drops a kiss to the crown of her hair is completely mindless.

With his free hand, he lowers the volume on his iPod, to be able to hear her under the music. ]

Hey. Otis didn't manage to catch any squirrels, thankfully. Wouldn't want to deal with that mess. How are you?

( the other girl burrows into her like she's starved for warmth, and kimberly doesn't hesitate to pull her in, close enough that their skin blends together under the shadow of a thin blanket. the couch probably isn't wide enough to accommodate them both like this comfortably, but they'll make it work. they always do. )

Okay. It's okay, Clary. You don't have to go anywhere.

( the words carry double meaning; clary's welcome to stay curled up on the couch with her as long as necessary, obviously, and kimberly's not going to send her back home any time soon either. she doesn't have to go if she doesn't want to. )

We can look at classes tomorrow. ( she shifts back just enough to be able to peer down at her friend, trying to coax a small smile out of her. ) We can get cinnamon buns from the bakery you like, maybe? Or a breakfast pizza?

( She gets a smile, small and slight but it's better than nothing at all. ) Both? Both sounds good.

( When was the last time she'd actually eaten? Clary can't remember. She isn't hungry now though, still unwilling to remove herself from the blanket cocoon and the warmth of a friend at her side. She's just tired, an ache inside the cavity of her chest that feels heavier than anything she's ever had to hold onto before. Food is the least of her worries right now. )

I'll call Magnus tomorrow. Get more shifts. And Robbie wants me to design something for the garage, so I can do that too. It'll be good to be busy. Get back to normal.

( It'll be good for her to not think anymore. )

( Baby pulls her close and all Clary feels is relief, letting her weight lean against his. She's so glad he's still here. She's so glad she's found her way back. Baby is one of her closest friends these days, and the comfort she can take from his closeness makes her feel a little less cold. )

Maybe he's just training them, you know? Reminding them to keep up their speed in case some dog not as nice as Otis appears to chase them.

( He asks her how she is and Clary shrugs her other shoulder, something helpless in the gesture. She doesn't know, she doesn't have the words to describe it. ) Tired. ( Easier to settle on that. ) How about you? How's things been? Kimberly said there wasn't much gossip but I think she's been sleeping on the couch all week, so --.

[ Even as his hold is loose, Baby doesn't let go, keeping Clary close. Somehow, he feels like she might need it, if the way she relaxes against him is any indication. He's happy to provide some comfort. ]

Nice. Guess who woke me up at 5am this morning because he needed to pee.

[ His words are fond. He doesn't really mind, and it's good for him to get out of bed for a run and a shower because Sansa even stirs. ]

Things are good. I don't have any gossip for you, sorry to say. It's been fairly quiet around here - at least, it's been to me. But I've been pretty much going to work and Sansa's exclusively, so I probably missed stuff.

Both. Sounds good.

( a small, tired smile, and kimberly presses her cheek against the bright strands of clary's hair. she hadn't realized just how tired she was until now; in between sleeping poorly on the couch and being woken up with a start, kimberly's running a bit low on battery power thus far this morning. she could probably stand a nap... or a massive pour of caffeine. )

Can we nap first, though, and then get food? I'm ( a beat for a yawn she doesn't even try to stifle. ) not feeling up for moving yet.

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

I DO WHAT I WANT

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text; un: driver

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YEEEEES

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