Jace didn’t want Clary to ever let go.
They were flying, high above the Manhattan skyline, car’s headlights lighting the skies like the stars that were slowly disappearing, gleaming brightly in the lightening sky. Jace let out a loud whoop of pure ecstasy as he drove the stolen vampire’s motorcycle straight through a low-hanging cloud, soaking his skin in millions of shimmering droplets.
He felt Clary’s arms tighten around his waist from where she sat behind him. His heart fluttered at the light touch. She had done so well tonight, defending herself against werewolves and vampires alike. He couldn’t believe how well she was adapting to this new, strange world.
Jace had thought she would break easier than that.
I was wrong, he thought, surprised, His intuition was usually very trustworthy. This though, was different. She was different.
He thought back to earlier that night, when they were on the Hotel Dumort’s roof. He could read the panic that was written across her pale face. She had been pressing her hands tightly to her chest for some reason, and Jace had frowned. Why is she- oh, Jace thought bitterly. That damn rat. Of course.
When Jace found the motorcycles standing there, practically begging to be ridden, his spirits lifted slightly. He knew how to make these kinds of decisions.
Dangerous, life-threatening choices that had to be made and acted upon in seconds? Decisions that had only probable outcomes that likely ended with a few broken ribs and an argument waiting at home? An opportunity with high stakes? Yes, Jace certainly knew his way around those.
He made them every day.
Jace still felt a slight hint of unease trickle through his nerves. If this didn’t work out the way he needed it to, Clary would be falling ten stories to her death. So would I, he thought wryly, before letting the half-hearted protest drift from his mind. He knew that wouldn’t affect his decision. It never did.
Jace had come to terms with his death long ago. He hardly thought about it much anymore. He had more pressing problems to deal with.
Like, for instance, getting this motorcycle started before the vampires, who by now seemed royally ticked off, knocked down the roof’s door.
He tried all varieties of runes to start the vehicle. Open, Energize, Power, even Darkness (which was a long shot anyway, but he had to try). Finally fed up, he shoved his stele into the ignition, panting.
The engine suddenly purred to life beneath him.
Grinning like a madman, he gestured urgently to Clary to hop on behind him. She hesitated, her hands fluttering to her chest again.
Jace gritted his teeth, his stomach roiling with an unknown emotion. He disregarded his fluttering stomach and counted to three in his head to get his emotions back in check before turning to Clary again. “Are you going to get on, or do you want a ride of your own?”
Clary quickly clambered onto the backseat of the motorcycle, her small hands gripping the back of his jacket tentatively.
Jace smiled. He figured she wouldn’t want her own bike to ride, but still- she had chosen him. It lit something deep within him, something he didn’t even know could be lit.
“Put your arms around me,” Jace said, leaning forward to push in the choke as Clary wrapped her arms around him in a vice-like grip.
Jace could faintly feel her heartbeat against his back, and felt a scratching that he knew must be Simon, the little rat. Jace laughed under his breath at his own joke but was interrupted by the door being knocked off its hinges.
He blinked. He had thought at first it was a reaction to his play on words, but quickly figured that was not quite it.
He heard Clary let out a small shriek of surprise and quickly revved the engine. Praying to the Angel, he drove right off the edge of the roof as the werewolves came snarling at them, the vampires keeping pace and shoving some out of the way with their typical brutal gracefulness.
There was a moment of weightlessness, where Jace felt his stomach float to his throat there, and hang suspended as he fumbled for the throttle.
And then they were back to flying, and Jace was finally free, and it was so peaceful, high above the ground where people were constantly at war with each other.
Up here he didn’t have to worry about letting his guard down, of hiding his true self from anyone, because it was just him. Him and the stars in the sky, dancing together in swirls of speed and wind. Him and the air, mixing into each other, his essence drifting away with the cool breeze that called for him to go faster and faster. Him and the moon shining upon him and finally letting him see that there might be a little light within himself. Him and- Clary.
Clary was there too, her terrified screams piercing his ears, and he must have mistaken them for the wind howling all about them, but no. She sounded like a banshee, and Jace didn’t want that to stop either.
It quite possibly might have been the happiest moment of his entire seventeen years.
Clary did screech for a long duration of the drive, clinging to Jace like a lifeline. Which, technically, he was. Jace was comforted by the thought that he was needed. It felt… nice. He liked that feeling.
He had been finding that he liked quite a lot of the new feelings that Clary had introduced him to.
Except for when Simon was around. That feeling was not necessary. Not at all.
Jace heard Clary gasp and wanted to whip his head around to check on her. Sometimes injuries weren’t found for hours after battles, and for some reason he couldn’t define, he didn’t want this small redheaded girl to be hurt. “Clary?” He asked instead, shouting over the whistling around them.
She didn’t respond.
“Clary? Clary, are you all right?” Jace asked again, more worried this time.
“Just- shut up for a minute,” she replied, and Jace’s heart immediately steadied. He could hear her mumbling and finally realized that she was talking to Simon. He rolled his eyes.
Why does she even care that much about him? He’s just an ordinary mundane. What’s so special about him?
“...Nice sunrise,” he heard Clary say, as if addressing a child but in a tone that sounded on the verge of a meltdown.
He stiffened. This motorcycle was powered by demon energies, and thus only worked at night. Sunlight would immediately cut the engine, dropping them in the middle of the East River. That, Jace concluded, would definitely mess up my hair. And I spent some time on it today. He decided that was probably not the worst that could happen. Broken bones would put a damper on things, for sure. Clary would probably yell at him again.
The bike started lurching beneath him as soon as he started explaining his realization to Clary. Minus the hair part. He didn’t think she would appreciate that.
Jace began steering towards the nearest bank, a gray parking lot littered with trash. Not the cleanest option, but then again, neither was the river. His thoughts flashed to Clary again, and began warning her.
“Hang on to me, and do not let-” he started, seeing the ground get closer. His last thought before feeling Clary being ripped away was that the vampires better have good insurance coverage. Then Jace was flying across the ground, seeming to skid across every stone and jagged piece of pavement possible before coming to a stop some twenty feet away from Clary.
He groaned, flopping onto his stomach, his lungs gasping for air as he slowly tried to assess the damage done to him. He could tell his face was in bad shape from how raw it felt, and his ribs were probably fractured. His leg felt funny, but was nothing too drastic as he could still feel it. Thankfully, his stele hadn’t been damaged in the fall; that was his plan to get back to the Institute.
Jace started to stand, his eyes scanning the lot for Clary, searching, searching. He found her and started forward, but stopped abruptly as he saw Simon, back to human form, kneeling over her. He gritted his teeth and averted his eyes. He couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised, but he had hoped the mundie would have stayed a rat for a few more hours, at least. He had been so happy, for once.
There’s a difference between living, he thought critically. And living a happy life. A life that makes you want to keep living it. At least I know that now.
Jace scuffed his boot against the ground, watching from afar at how easily they interacted together. He wanted that. He wanted to be the one who Clary turned to when she needed help, when she was hurt, when she needed someone to talk to. He could be that. He knew he could. He could change for her. He would change for her, if he was what she wanted.
But why would she ever want him? Jace could admit to himself that he was too callous, too bold, and risk-taking. He put himself in dangerous situations with no thought for his health, or even making it out alive. He was arrogant, and put up a mask to hide any weakness, because that’s what he was taught. He spent a lot of time alone, probably too much for it to be healthy, preferring the company of his own thoughts instead of other people. He didn’t have a normal outlook on death, and wouldn’t be afraid of it when it came knocking. He was too dark, too full of shadows and swirling emotion. He had secrets, had witnessed things no one should ever even have to think of.
He wasn’t a safe choice.
But he could make himself one.
Jace was scared when he realized that he would do anything in the world if it meant holding her hand. Making his own constellations in the universe that were her freckles. Brushing away the stray hairs that fell into her eyes as she drew. Bringing her tea, in the extra-large mug she constantly stole from the kitchen. Telling her he loved her, when they got to that stage. Describing in detail just how beautiful he found every inch of her to be. Exploring her curious eyes that made him look at the world as if there was some beauty in it. Creating piece after piece of music for her, playing the sunrise through the keys, and performing the Wild Hunt’s feral beauty through the piano’s beautiful tones. He would do all these things and more.
He would make sure she never needed saving. He would leave his entire world behind, if she said she wanted him.
It really was that simple.
He stared at them jealousy, wishing Simon would disappear. But no, not actually disappear. He made Clary happy. He protected her, in his own pathetic little way. But Jace still couldn’t stop himself from wanting to hate him, wanting to show Clary that he could do all those things.
Jace heard Clary laugh, sounding like literal music to his ears. He felt a pang. He would like to play piano for her, sometime. He watched as she hugged Simon fiercely, whispering in his ear. He felt her eyes shift, and tore his gaze away, staring into the sun to try to hide the pain and desperateness in his eyes.
He couldn’t let her see how easily she had overtaken him, how defenseless he suddenly was. He felt that he had all the right walls built up around him, but now he wasn’t so sure. Now it felt like those walls were surrounding him, falling, and burying him underneath.
He scoffed to himself. He would never be good enough. She couldn’t want him, he was too much of a mess, a loose cannon.
He couldn’t believe he had even entertained the thought of belonging to her.
She would never be his. But that’s okay, he told himself, trying to gain reassurance from somewhere within himself. I know it’s not likely to work out. Not for someone like me.
She shone far too bright for someone so dark as himself, anyways.