Hey! You guys are so lucky! Two updates in two weeks! It's only possible because I'm off almost all day every day, so I have a ton of time on my hands. Well, this is not the last chapter! I think we will have 1-2 chapters more after this. I'm incredibly sorry to see this story finish, but I've almost told all there is to tell. I hope you enjoy the chapter and Happy New Year!

Chapter Songs:

*Unbreakable- Hedley (Jace's PoV)

*You and I- Lady Gaga (Simon's PoV)

*So Soon- Mariannas Trench (Clary's PoV)

*Pearl- Katy Perry (Jace's PoV)


Disclaimer: You know what I own and don't own.

19. Parents

Jace PoV- Three hours earlier . . .

"Look, Val, you're going to think I'm batshit crazy but I swear to God that I'm sane. We have to go back to New York. Now."

She looked at me like I suggested killing the president. "What the hell? Everything's fine here. You promised me a week and I'm pretty damn sure it's only Wednesday." She said, sounding equal parts confused and annoyed.

"Look, I told you it would sound crazy. But in New York, something horrible is happening, something that I have to stop." I explained, looking her straight in the eye.

"Jace, if something horrible is happening, we're safer here. Is this about me seeing my grandfather? You don't think I need to see a shrink, do you? Because I know you saw him too. And I saw you, talking to a woman I'm pretty sure was your mother." Val said, tears starting to flow.

"Oh God, Val, no that's not what I'm talking about." I sighed, trying to think of the best way to put this. "You know Clary Fairchild? The new girl from California?"

Val nodded slowly. "Yes, but what does she have to do with going back to New York? And I know you dated her, Jace. I wasn't born yesterday. Are you . . . is she . . . is she pregnant with your child or something and you have this need to go back and be the baby's father? Like on TV?" The tears flowed more freely.

"Hell no, did she look pregnant the last time you saw her? No. It's just . . . Well, I promised you this week, and I know the week isn't over yet, but I have to tell you this now." I took a deep breath.

"Valerie, you are an absolutely gorgeous girl. You're too good for me, and yet you put up with my crap for the past four months. And it's not fair that you have loved me no matter what I've said and done, when I haven't done the same for you. I haven't cheated on you, I can promise you that. There was something keeping Clary and I apart before, a threat that people we cared about would get hurt if we were together. But on the night of prom, Clary told me about the threat because my sister Isabelle was hurt. I told her that it wasn't right for us to let some bastard keep us apart. I think the reason I've been so bad at loving you and being a good boy friend is because I'm not over her. Clary knew you would be hurt if I dumped you right after prom and before the California trip you had been waiting so long for, so she told me to go with you. And now she's in danger. I completely understand if you hate me, but don't force me to stay here and let her get hurt." I said, feeling like a weight had been lifted from my chest.

Val's eyes burned with a combination of hurt and hatred. "Screw you, Jace Lightwood. You know, people always told me that you would break my heart, but I never believed them. I told them there was some good inside you. They just laughed at me, saying how naive I was and how the truth would eventually come out and stab me in the back. And now you're leaving me for some bitch from California who lied to you? I may be a lot of things, Jace, but a liar and a cheater I certainly am not. So, no, I'm not going back to New York with you. I'm keeping my plane ticket and the beach house, and you can go back to New York on your own to save your 'girl'. Oh and for the record, I don't think I want to go to university with you anymore." Val flipped me the bird and walked over, sobs racking her body.

Sprinting to the rented car, I turned my thoughts to how to get to New York City as quickly as possible, seeing as I was currently across the country. I would be remorseful over what I said to Val later, when I had time. I made a two minute trip to the beach house, grabbing my suitcase and a granola bar for the drive to the airport. I left the keys to the house in the mailbox, along with a quick I'm sorry note. Actually, I wrote the I'm sorry note, but at the last minute decided to throw it out. Val wouldn't accept any excuses or apologies I gave her.

I got lucky at the airport. They had a flight leaving for New York in two hours and with a lot of flirting and bribing on my part, I got the intern at the ticket counter to let me on the plane. Sadly, it wasn't going to be first class, but Clary was worth it. If sitting at the back of the plane closest to the bathrooms meant I could be home in three hours, then I'd take it.

The plane took off with ease, and exactly three hours and ten minutes later, I was standing in the luggage check line. In my pocket, my phone—which I'd forgotten was on—buzzed. Checking the Caller ID, I saw that it was Isabelle. And that she had called fifteen times in the past three hours, leaving me a grand total of ten voicemail messages. "Hello? Iz, what's wrong?" I asked.

"Thank Prada, Jace! How hard is it to pick up your damn phone? Do you have any idea how many times I've called you? You'd better have an epic explanation for all this. And no, making out with Val the whole time is not an acceptable answer," Isabelle said.

I sighed. "Iz, I was on a plane. I'm at the airport. Can you get someone to pick me up? I have the strangest feeling that Clary's in danger. Wait—what were you calling me about?"

"Clary is in danger, asshat! The police gave her a voice recorder so they could hear the conversation between Clary and her father, and they heard a fair bit more than they expected, including Sebastian, aka Clary's brother Jonathan, boasting about Valentine's ingenious plan to bring Clary's mother back from the dead, as well as what he did to you as a child. Holy crap Jace, I totally forgive you for being such a prick when you first came to live with us. Hell, I'd have been way worse than you if I'd had all that happen to me." Isabelle exclaimed. I tried not to laugh, thinking: She must be high off pain meds; she's never this nice to me.

"Are you serious?" I had to balance my phone between my shoulder and my ear as I picked up my luggage.

"Yes! And I just texted this super hot police officer to go pick you up and take you to where they suspect Clary to be. I told him that if anyone should go get Clary, it should be you. Because despite the fact that I hate you at least five days a week Jace, and the other two days you piss me off, I don't hate you hate you. There's a difference. And although I know you have a history of breaking girl's hearts and throwing them away, I think Clary really likes you. Which I find both totally disgusting and sort of cute. So you can thank me later for my supreme sweetness, but for now, go save my best friend."

The police officer, who looked no older than twenty one or twenty two was tanned and had curly black hair. Yeah, he looked like the type Isabelle usually went after. Poor police officer. "You must be Jace Lightwood, I am Raphael Santiago. Isabelle Lightwood sent me to pick you up. Do you have any idea where Valentine Morgenstern may have taken Clarissa Fairchild?" he asked formally.

Walking over to where the police car was parked, I had an idea. "I have Sebastian's, I mean Jonathan's, phone number. If you can trace where my call is going to, we may be able to find her."

Present Time . . .

"She's suffered from blood loss, we're trying to get the right blood type, but it seems whatever was injected into her system is rejecting whatever matching donors we can find," the doctor, a petite woman with greying brown hair and blue eyes, informed us.

After rescuing Clary from the forest, Raphael had driven Clary and myself to the hospital, then gone back to fetch Isabelle and Simon. "Is there anything else you can do?" Simon asked.

The nurse looked at her clipboard. "Well, Mr. Lewis, I can try a few emergency procedures, but what Clary really needs is a blood transfusion. The IV drip isn't doing much good, because she's lost a lot of the blood it needs to circulate on. As for the three of you, the best you can do is pray for her."

Simon nodded and thanked the nurse. "Wait—do you know what Valentine injected her with?" I asked, thinking maybe, just maybe, I could have the solution.

"The police found needles containing a silvery substance littering the ground. We think that must've been what he was injecting her with. Why, Mr. Lightwood?" the nurse asked, eyeing me carefully. I got up from my position beside Clary's bed.

"When I was a child, Valentine gave my father a silvery substance to inject me with. I have a feeling it might be the same substance. Could you use my blood?" I asked, holding my breath.

The nurse's eyes went wide. "Mr. Lightwood, why did you not tell me this earlier? It's a long shot, but I think we may need to try. I'll prep the room next door for the procedure. Have you given blood before?" I shook my head, and she smiled. "Well, this is going to be fun, then."

Isabelle and Simon regarded me with cautious looks. "Do you think that what Valentine was talking about injecting you with is the same thing he gave Clary? Is that why Valentine didn't want the two of you together?" Isabelle asked.

I nodded. "It might be. I don't know why I didn't think about it before, but yes, that could be the answer."

Isabelle whacked me on the arm. "What the hell was that for?" I asked.

"It's in case your plan doesn't work. I figure you'd rather have me hit you now than after you give blood. Trust me, you'll thank me in ten minutes," Isabelle said with a smile.

The nurse poked her head through the door. "We're ready for you, Mr. Herondale."

Simon PoV

There is something so wrong about this situation. I'm sitting in a hard plastic chair in the hospital, praying that my best friend's on-again-off-again boyfriend's blood will help save her from death. Not your normal situation. To top it off, the girl sitting next to me used to be my . . . friend with benefits? I don't know, but I'm pretty sure we had a thing. I took her to prom, which should count for something. The awkward thing about this is that I'm almost absolutely positive that she is texting with the manly police officer in charge of this case. I can't compete with a police officer. They've got badges and stuff, and I have . . . a Dungeons and Dragons certificate that says: Simon Lewis participated in New York City's second annual Dungeons and Dragons competition. He placed 6 out of 7 participants.

"So, Simon, how have you been these past couple days?" Isabelle asked, clearly feeling as awkward as I did.

"Oh, I've been good. I'm now on level 4 of Call of Duty. Last time we spoke, I was only on level 2." I said, sounding macho and manly. Take that stupid, ripped, Spanish police officer. Skinny Jewish nerd: 1, Stupid, ripped, Spanish police officer: 20.

"Wow, that's impressive. My little brother Max beat level 20 yesterday. And Alec beat the game a few weeks ago with his boyfriend Magnus," Isabelle commented. "Simon, I have a question for you. Say a girl really likes a guy and she wants to tell him that she likes him, but she doesn't really know if she should because he's had his heart broken before. Should she go for it? Or is it better for her to give him his space for a while first?"

For a second, I couldn't breathe. I had visions of Isabelle telling me that she really did want to be with me, and for another second, I thought she might have to start resuscitating me. "Yes! I mean, yeah, I think the guy would be cool with that," I replied, trying to stay calm and collected.

Isabelle looked like she was going to say something. To profess her love for me, maybe. But then, Jace walked in. He was holding his arm and walking with purpose. "Giving blood went well?" Isabelle asked, our conversation forgotten.

"The nurse seemed to think so. I don't think she likes me much, all things aside. She even laughed when the needle went in and I winced. Not very nice behaviour." Even though I've never spent much time around Jace, I could tell he was playing high and mighty, and that the giving blood ordeal wasn't as painful for him as he was leading us to believe.

"Is she giving Clary the transplant now?" I asked, more curious about the Clary part of this than how Jace was feeling.

"Yes, yes. But don't expect her to start sputtering all of a sudden and then open her eyes. According to Dahlia—the nurse—these things take time," Jace informed us, mostly directing the information towards me.

I glared at him. "I know how these things work. I avidly watch both Grey's Anatomy and House." I told them.

Isabelle smiled a little, and I started thinking, damn straight. Skinny Jewish nerd: 2; Stupid, ripped, Spanish po-po: 20, when Isabelle started speaking. "Really, Simon? You watch Grey's Anatomy? And as for House, let's just hope this doctor is nothing like him."

Jace bit his lip to keep from laughing at me. "I think Iz is right. I mean, Maryse's mother watches Grey's Anatomy. That should be enough to turn anyone off the show."

Isabelle's glare was turned on Jace. "Just because my grandmother didn't let you run rampant around the city, doesn't mean she's a bitchy old lady with a stick up her ass."

Jace turned to me for a second. "Trust me, never meet Grandmother Lightwood. She makes Clary's evil father seem as cuddly as a teddy bear," he whispered.

I nodded and stole a glance at Clary. Dressed in the pink hospital gown and lying on the bed, she looked even smaller and more fragile. Her red curls were matted with sweat and hairspray that had lost its hold and her eyes had dark shadows underneath them. Oh Clary, what's happened to you now?

"Mr. Lightwood?" the nurse—Dahlia—said quietly. Jace whipped around to face her, his face alight with hope. It was the most feeling I had seen on his face since he first came to live with Isabelle's family. "Your blood, it's taken to her system quite nicely. The doctor's think that she will be fine and have a speedy recovery. Now it's really just a waiting game, but the calculation is that she will regain consciousness tomorrow, once the blood has had twenty four hours to circulate through her system."

Isabelle smiled and I felt my face split into a large grin. Not even thinking, I ran to Isabelle and gave her a hug, which she returned. I felt the weight of Jace's eyes on my back and broke away from her. "I . . . I, yeah, sorry," I stuttered, my face turning red. Isabelle rolled her eyes and waved it away.

Dahlia started shuffling uncomfortably. "Now this is the awkward part. I don't want to kick you out since you're not causing any disturbances, but hospital visiting hours are now over, for both family and friends. Since Clary's condition is no longer critical and she is promised to make a quick recovery, I'm not allowed to make any exceptions." Dahlia shrugged, her face betraying how sorry she really felt.

"Fine. But I swear to God I'm going to be here as soon as the hospital opens tomorrow morning to see her," Jace warned Dahlia, who gave him a nod.

"I'll tell them to be expecting you. Now, shoo," she said, with hand motions and everything. We left, Jace grumbling, Isabelle texting, and me, feeling like I was missing a part of me.

Clary PoV

I felt groggy. My eyelids were heavy—so heavy—and I felt like someone had sewn them shut. My head was pounding, and the rustling of my sheets and the hospital gown I was wearing were not helping. I blinked, opening my eyes for the first time in what felt like ages and seeing myself surrounded by medical machinery. And IV drip was attached to my hand and a tube was bringing a red liquid into my veins.

"Clarissa, I see you're awake. How are you feeling, my darling?" I groan inwardly and wish I had the strength to run, to call for someone, a nurse, anyone.

"Well, well, they're giving you some of the Herondale boy's blood, I see. Probably trying to replace what they think you lost. You see, Clarissa, you didn't really lose any blood. The blood I gave you just doesn't have the same density as normal blood cells, which caused these silly doctors to think you've lost blood. We'll have to correct that, now won't we. The blood is doing nothing for you, despite their calculations. You were what they refer to as 'comatose' before because the blood hadn't a chance to fully circulate. But now, look at you, you're awake." He reached over me and gently took the needle out of my arm, and then doing the same with the intravenous drip.

"I've brought clothing for you, Clarissa, don't fret. Lilith helped me pick them out weeks ago." He walked back to where he was sitting and retrieved a Lulu Lemon bag from under the chair. "She decided that you would look beautiful in a lace dress from Guess and that your, erm . . . bra . . . size was a B-cup." He coughed, and then regained his composure. My face, on the other hand, was surely bright red. There is nothing more embarrassing than your dad informing you of your bra size. "So that's what I have in this bag. I'll shut the curtain so you can dress yourself, but I warn you, if you aren't ready in two minutes I will come in there and dress you myself. Or take you to the car naked and have Lilith dress you there. Your choice," he said, pulling the curtain shut around me.

I swore silently. I was trapped, nowhere to go, nothing to do except get dressed and go with him. Beside my bed, Jace's blood was slowly dripped out of the tube and staining the tray my father had placed it in. I had an idea. Taking off my hospital gown and throwing on my new undergarments, I wrote Jace a note with his blood, as gruesome and unromantic as it sounds. I gripped the tube and needle like I would a pencil and wrote in big block letters, Jace, he has me. Help.

With a sigh, I pulled the lacy dress on, noticing that it was in fact black. I folded up the gown carefully so the bloody writing wouldn't smudge. I pulled away the curtain. "I need shoes," I said, sounding resigned.

Valentine smiled at me with his set of perfect teeth. I noticed that he had a cut on his cheek that looked fairly new. "Of course. Lilith thought of everything, my dear." He pulled a pair of Mui Mui platform shoe booties with a huge heel. They looked like something Isabelle would wear. He placed them on the ground in front of me. "Put them on, you'll need them." I bent down, first slipping my feet into them and then zipping them up. I stood up carefully, teetering on them a bit. "Follow me, Clarissa," he instructed, turning around and walking out of the room.

I followed him, taking careful steps. We walked down the hallways leading to the front desk area. Not looking behind to see if I was keeping up, Valentine sauntered out the door into the morning light. I followed him, sighing and wondering why the hell the police hadn't put him in jail.

Italy. Italy. Italy was our destination. We flew there in a private jet, Valentine, Lilith and I. I was Lilith's beauty make-over doll, and she spent the whole flight doing my make-up and hair until she was completely satisfied. "Why are we going to Italy?" I asked Lilith at one point. Her answer was: "Because it is where both the heavenly and hellish rest."

When we landed, a car met us at the airport. Stephen, dressed like a true chauffer, opened the limo door for us and I was ushered inside. While in the limo, Lilith prepped my arm and drew more of my blood, injecting the silver stuff in its place. I felt woozy and lightheaded when she did, and all I could think was: I need to get my hands on a laptop so I can tell Jace where I am.

Jace PoV

A surprise awaited me when I got home. Maryse stood at the door with a huge smile on her face and told me that someone was in the living room wanting to speak with me about a school. I walked in and put my bags down. "I'll be upstairs if you need anything," Maryse said, ushering Isabelle up with her. In the living room, a man sat on one of the couches, a cell phone in his hand.

"Jonathan Christopher Herondale, we meet again," Valentine said, smiling at me in a fake way. Suddenly, my experience from after my first date with Clary came back to me. It wasn't a dream. This was all real. Valentine kidnapped me and did experiments on me. I felt lightheaded but refused to sit down. "Now, Jonathan Christopher, I have an offer you would hate to refuse. As far as Maryse Lightwood knows, I'm a scout from a school in Italy here to offer you acceptance to our sport and music programs. You are coming to Italy with me to take a look at the school and sit in on a few lectures. In reality though, you are coming with me to Italy where you will be able to spend time with Clary. We're building a little family there, and I need your blood to complete it. Am I understood?"

I refused to nod. "I'm not coming with you."

Valentine laughed. "Oh, but you see, this is the only way you will ever be able to see Clarissa again. You will get to spend every day with her, my little experiment. And, of course, no is not an acceptable answer." Lightning quick, I ran into the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife I could find. I held it in my hand, ready to strike at Valentine. He appeared in the room, seeming as calm as anything. In his hand was a needle, one that glistened dangerously in the light.

He made no move to approach me, so I flung myself over the table and lunged at him, knife ready to pierce. I caught his cheek and the knife cut a jagged line there. Valentine lashed out with precision and cracked his hand across my face. I tasted blood in my mouth. "I will outdo you every time, boy. I know your strengths, your weaknesses. I know that in ten minutes you will be completely healed and there will be no evidence on you of this fight at all. You know, I think Clarissa may think she loves you. If you love her, you'll come with me." He was trying to distract me and I knew it.

I took a step backwards, knocking over one of the barstools. Damn it, I swore. He was closing in on me, grinning an infuriating grin. "Look, first off, you wanted me to stay away from Clary and now you want us to be together?" I asked, needing to give him a distraction.

He blinked, stunned by my question. I took this opportunity to knock the needle out of his hand, sending it across the kitchen. "Clarissa can't live without you. Now that you share the same blood, she feels that way even more. Being separated could cause pain to her. So you see, she doesn't really love you, she just thinks she needs you." With that he swiped the knife out of my hand.

"Now," he said, playing with the knife in his hand, "give me one good reason why I shouldn't go upstairs and finish the job Jonathan started on Isabelle Lightwood." He twirled the knife dangerously, fixing me with a hard stare. He would actually hurt Isabelle to get me.

I looked around me at my options. I could call for Maryse or help, but that wouldn't do any good. I could beat him to death with a spatula, also not helpful. "Fine," I said dejectedly. At least this way I could protect Clary and it wouldn't involve us being apart.

Seven hours later, I was being ushered into a mansion in Pompei, overlooking the ruins of Pompeii and the Mediterranean Sea. Valentine wasn't the one who escorted me to Italy. He sent me on the plane on my own, with the threat on Isabelle's life hanging over my head. I was a man of my word, and on the way to the airport, Valentine had me swear on Clary's life that I wouldn't try anything on the flight to Italy or drive to the mansion. So, I arrived, wondering why the hell Valentine picked Italy to home his 'family'.

A woman with red hair and tired eyes came rushing down the stairs when I walked in the door. "Valentine? Clarissa?" she called, her voice hoarse. When she saw me, her eyes went wide. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

Something about her seemed incredibly familiar. "I'm Jace Lightwood, Valentine sent me here." Then it hit me, this was Clary's mother who Valentine had successfully brought back from dead.

"I know who you are, Jonathan Christopher Herondale. I was only hoping you would tell me otherwise. I suppose your father will be happy to see you again, although he isn't here at the moment, he's retrieving Valentine and Clarissa from the airport. Why are you here? Why aren't you saving my daughter?" Her voice was full of raw desperation.

I was taken aback. "That's why I'm here. I'm here to save Clary," I told her.

She shook her head. "No, you cannot save Clary this way. He will kill you. He may have told you that you will get to be together, but you will not be together the way you wish. You and Clarissa are his experiments. Hurry; run, before he gets here—" Clary's mother stopped abruptly as the door opened, revealing Valentine, a woman I had never seen before, and Clary, teetering in a pair of Isabelle-high heels.

Valentine smiled cruelly. "I see you've met my lovely wife, Jocelyn, Jace. She's a beauty, isn't she?"

The woman next to him scrutinized me over her giant sunglasses. "You're cute," she said, giving me a predatory smile. "I'm Lilith, by the way." I shook her hand carefully, trying not to impale myself of any of her needle-sharp rings.

When I turned my gaze to really look at Clary, I noticed she was wearing black, the one colour I had never seen her in. "Jace," she breathed, giving me a sad look, "Why are you here?"

Valentine smiled at his daughter and relayed the tale, the whole time her face getting paler and paler. "Can Jace and I have a moment alone?" Clary asked when Valentine had finished.

He gave her a soft smile. It looked strange on his face. "Of course, but only one minute. We'll wait in the sitting room." They left, Jocelyn's cough echoing through the hall.

Clary crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes, I am wearing lace. And yes, it is black. And yes, this is also the most form-fitting dress you have ever seen me in, thanks to Lilith who has taken it upon herself to dress me. Now, your questions are answered, so you can answer a few of mine. Firstly, why the hell are you here?"

I thought carefully about my answer. "I'm going to get us both out of here. Your father forced me to come here, saying he needed me to 'complete his collection'."

"Look, Jace, I'm glad you're here and all, but how are we going to escape? Valentine's got this whole place surrounded." Clary whispered, leaning forward. She faltered in her shoes and I caught her. Shooting a murderous glare at the black torture devices on her feet, she continued. "Valentine will be back in here in a minute, and we aren't going to do anything. We are going to go along with whatever he wants and be good little collection completions. We need proof that he's doing something wrong, so tonight we will make our escape. We'll have better luck then." Right on cue, Valentine walked in.

"Jace and Clary, I have someone I would like each of you to meet," Valentine said. Clary shot me a look that said behave. I nodded at Valentine and let him escort me into the next room. Valentine pointed me towards a blonde man and Clary towards Jocelyn. My heart stopped beating. I said, "Dad?" at the same time Clary said, "Mom?"

Sorry! It's a cliffhanger. But don't worry, I plan on updating again soon. I'm also going to start a new story that I will begin working on when I finish Beautiful Monster and my Hunger Games fic. Review for me? Tell me what you think is going to happen next and why you think Valentine needs Jace and Clary.

Till my next update,