This is it my loves. The very end. It has been awhile so I do recommend go back to the start if you can. Rough through my spelling and grammar errors, get it all fresh in your mind and then come back here. Come back when your ready to feel the end, because that is what this is. Thank you all so much for coming along with me on this journey. I have found true family here, and I hope that my version of these characters can live on in you, because that is why I write. If you haven't already please check out my other works, I have 2 finished that I think you would also enjoy. I hope to be back soon, possibly with something new, one day finishing more of the old, but always keeping it fun. At the end, let me know what you think. A secret, I keep the emails of EVERY review I have ever gotten. As much as you reread chapters, I reread your words.
"Please, just stop." Jonathan put his hand to his face and dropped his gaze. He had known she would get here eventually. There were stages of grief, everyone knew that, and now she was trying to barter. "There is nothing you can say, no deal you can make, that I am allowed to accept," he sighed, it really was getting pathetic.
"You don't know what I have to offer." There was desperation in her voice, a higher octave than her normal tone. She really was starting to crack.
"I do know, the Infernal know, no one is interested Clary. You have angel mojo now, big freaking deal," he exasperated swinging his arms out to the sides. "That is nothing compared to having a giant hulking angel stuck by his own will. You cannot save him. You cannot break him free, or trick his way out." Jonathan strode over and grabbed Clary, each of his rough hands on the side of her tear-streaked face. "You cannot even die Clary," his voice dropped to a whisper as he released her.
Clary crumbled into a heap, as if his hands were the only thing holding her up. "Wh…..What do you mean I can't die?" Her lips trembled.
Jonathan sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose looking down, knowing that his bosses were watching this exchange with the grin of someone about to proclaim, "Check mate!"
"You're never going to die until you are old and wrinkly and modern medicine can no longer keep your heart beating. You will never be hit by a car, or a victim of a robbery gone bad. You will never see your angel again and you will live a long, long life and there is nothing you can do about it." Jonathan wasn't gloating or shoving it in her face, there was a hint of sadness as he spoke, quietly spelling out the facts for her. "When you die, your soul will go back to hell and Jace will be free. They won't let you claw your way back as a demon. You will be their part angel pet for the rest of eternity, but until then you are not allowed to die. The Infernal want as much time with the angel as they can. Meaning, you now have guardian demons." Jonathan gave a half smile by way of an apology.
Clary had been silent, processing and mentally deflating. All the angry thoughts and plans she had made while walking back from the cemetery were taken in that instant like a flame from a candle slowly choking and shrinking with a lack of oxygen. The malice of hell was now completely clear to Clary. They had finally found a way to punish a soul that had been so badly abused in life. They had given her hope, and love. Her life as a demon was the happiest she had ever been. This was her true punishment, and it was crippling.
"Is it alright if we close this?" The workers said sheepishly, looking on to the two men in black suits, sitting in the furthest seats from the coffin. All the other seats were vacant.
Jonathan cleared his throat. "Yeah go ahead guys."
"She looked good in the end," Magnus said lowly looking at Jonathan. They were seated in chairs next to each other, a twelve-inch gap separating just to be safe.
"If by good you mean wrinkly and monochromatic then yes, you are completely right." Jonathan's eyes rolled with the statement but he gave Magnus a half smirk in the end.
"So I guess this means we really can't be friends anymore, with our charge finally dying and all." Magnus gave a sad smile to the demon he had become friends with through the decades.
Clary had lived another 76 years after being made human again. Jonathan watched over her through all the long years. At first she was terrible at being a human, not to mention depressed. For a while she tried to just give up on living, and Jonathan was there every step of the way. Sometimes he fed her, bathed her, even combed through her hair (it had nothing to do with keeping her alive but he did it anyways). Somehow, she eventually accepted she was going to live whether she liked it or not, or at least that was what Jonathan thought she had done.
She went to church, which wasn't really church, it was teleportation to angels. She always met Magnus, and he always denied her. It hadn't been for the benefit of hell, the rules for angels prohibited him from ending her life. They weren't the avenging angels of old. Magnus pitied her and tried to help make her life more bearable. That was how Jonathan and Magnus became sort of friends.
"No, I don't think we should," Jonathan said sadly.
"I'm glad she found happiness in the end." Magnus looked toward the now closed coffin. Flowers spilled over every ledge and shelf. Hours before there had been so many mourners, they hadn't had enough seats. Clary had found herself, even without being with Jace or any other. Her dabeo bond was eternal and unbroken even as a human, but Magnus suspected she never would have been interested in any other even if she could have. Jace was her one true love, and even though they were separated good and evil they still found their way to each other. He had brought out her ability to finally forgive herself, and without him, she finally started to heal herself. In the end she had made many friends and changed the lives of countless others. She actually lived.
Jonath cleared his throat again, like there was a lump there he was desperately trying to clear. "I guess I should be off to hell then. I can go and check on her, but I know it won't be pleasant. The Infernal were pissed when she broke heaven and hell, they will never let her soul be at rest. A part of me wished she could just have lived forever, one mortal life is nothing in the scheme of things."
Magnus had a lump of his own that he did not bother to clear. He looked up one last time to the picture of Clary, old and wrinkled; her hair gray and white. There was a smile on her face; someone had caught her mid laugh, with extra wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. She had found happiness, even if just for a little while. With a blink the chair beside him emptied, and Magnus closed his eyes and tried not to think of the two friends he would never see again.
Clary refused to open her eyes. She had known she was dying; a death entirely different from the first one. This had been like slipping into a warm bath, a toe first and then more; slipping in quicker the more you were already gone. She wasn't afraid. She knew what would likely be in store for her, an eternity of torture, but what they hadn't counted on was the peace she had found in her heart.
She let the darkness surround her, unwilling yet to open her eyes, but she used her undying body and all the rest of its senses. The first thing that hit her was the smell. It was an unmistakable smell when you had encountered it hundreds of thousands of times: frankincense, ocean air, and a hint of mango. It was the smell of heaven, exactly the same as she had known it every time Jace had taken her there with merging.
Clary's eyes flew open, a bright contrasting light to the darkness that had enveloped her. Pastel colors flooded her vision, warmth of a sun's ray in the spring warmed her goose freckled skin. Slivers of red floating on the subtle breeze invaded her sight, forcing her to push back her yet again fiery hair. Her skin was smooth and young again and standing before her was her angel.