AN: Here is yet another Clary/Jace (Clace) story. I should not have written this. My other stories demand my attention. Ooops... Anyway, this story is named after the song, "Fall Apart" by Lawson. I highly recommend listening to this song while reading this, because I absolutely love that song and it helps set the mood. If you have not heard of that band, please look them up. They are lovely. Anyway, I say this is complete, but I will wrote more for it. Depends if other people want me to. Please enjoy this story, and review or follow if you want me to continue it. Thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments, or any characters mentioned in this fic. All rights go to Cassie Clare and her people. I am making no money from this.

I forced my tear filled eyes to look into the broken mirror that lied ahead of me. The sight I saw was not a good one; the figure staring back at me appearing lost and broken. Streaks of black ran down my cheeks, my eyes shot with red. My hair, once a vibrant and lively red, was now a cheap general store dyed black, clinging to my face with sweat and blood. Cuts and bruises decorated my cheeks and my forehead, and there was little life to be seen on my gaunt features. I looked terrible, so much different then how I had seemed only a few months ago.

Another tear rolled down my face at the thought of my previous life. It seemed like a distant memory, one that would be forgotten over time. I did not want to forget the time I spent with Jace, my mother, Simon. Those years had been good, even great; certainly better then what I was going though now. Was my family looking for me? Has Jace found someone else? Have they all forgotten about me, about the memories and time we had shared? Was there any help coming, or would I lay here to rot for the rest of my short lived life?

I allowed my weakened legs to collapse from under me, making my frame crumple pitifully onto the tile floor below me; sobs once again racking my body. From my spot on the cool floor, I could see some of the cuts that marred my skin; some self-inflicted while others were forced upon me. All of the wounds had been made within the last few months, marking the time that I had spent with my monstrous brother Jonathan. Every scrape, every scar made by his knife, every word that he threw harmfully into my soul, they all marked me with a solid timeline of my torchure. No longer was I pretty, in fact I was the opposite. He had made me this way; unlikable to anyone, weak to him.

I could no longer fight Jonathan, he was too strong while I was too weak. I had fought as long as I could, and there was nothing left of me now. My arms, once strengthened by hours of training with Jace, were now stringy and limp. I was thin, all of the bones showing in my body due to the lack of muscle. While my health was steadily declining, Jonathan's was only getting better. He worked out daily, for hours at a time. His strength rivaled Jace's at this point, and he used it against me. With every beating he brought to me, his words would bring up the golden-haired boy that I loved. Jonathan would taunt me with memories of him, while telling me that he wasn't even looking for me. I would never see him again. If I did see him, he would not want me. I was beginning to believe these words even more as I continued to stare at myself.

In my time spent with my sadistic brother I had become an insomniac. Sleeplessness was highly pronounced in all of my features, and made large purple bags under my eyes. In the past month, I had only gotten a total of roughly thirty hours of sleep. My dreams were haunting, often featuring butchered pieces of my past that were filled with the gruesome present. Countless hours I would toss and turn, restlessly. When I did sleep, it was fitfully, nightmares making me whimper and cry out in agony. I would wake up screaming every time; the sleep not worth the torment in most cases. Jonathan took advantage of my sleep-induced pain, using my sleeplessness to his advantage. He knew that he was often the reasons for my terrible dreams, and he took pride in that for some sad, sadistic reason.

I heard the door creak open, marking the arrival of the devil himself. His footfalls were harsh and deliberate against the tiling floor as he walked towards my corner of the small room. My head turned subconsciously away from him, not wanting to see his face as it neared my own. Soon enough, I could feel his nasty breath fan across my face, leaving a scent of mint, alcohol, and tobacco in its wake. The scent almost made me want to choke, his cheap cologne only making the sensation worse.

"How ware you, baby sister?" He asked with a drunken voice, trying to taunt me.

I spat weakly in his direction, only to earn myself a strong slap in the face. "Clarissa, why do you try to make this worse for you?" Jonathan asked, slurring his words slightly.

I tried to stop the tears from trickling down my face, but they would not yield as he bent down to pick me up. In his left hand he held a knife, a taser in his right, a cigarette hanging lazily out of the corner of his mouth. I lay limply in his grasp as he carried me to the other side of the house. Empty beer and liquor bottles were spread across the floor in almost every single room. The scent of the house was foul, just like his soul. Jace would have never let this happen to his house...

"Thinking about your stupid ex again?" Jonathan questioned angrily, before slamming me down of the floor forcefully.

Jace wasn't my ex. Technically. "What if I was?" I said weakly.

"Then I would do this." My brother said, before dragging the knife across my right bicep, making blood pour down my arm.

I didn't cry out. He had cut me many times before, much worse then this. I was used to the pain at this point. Jonathan would have to do better then that to get a response out of me. His hand slapped across my cheek, making my eyesight blur for a few seconds while he punched me in the stomach. I doubled over in pain, and let out a soft noise of protest as he continually beat me senseless, only stopping once he felt satisfied with himself.

"He doesn't care about you. No one does anymore. Wayland is not coming to save you, so you might as well stop thinking about him. You're only making it worse for yourself."

"No, Jace loves me.." I said limply, almost pleading that it was true.

"Listen to yourself, Clarissa. You wish that he still cared about you, when you know that he doesn't. Have you seen him? Is he here right now, about to enter through that door, and tear me away from you? I don't think so." He spat evilly, giving me one last slap before he walked away, leaving the door open behind him.

I could not find the strength to stand, or even move myself onto the couch that was only several feet away. This left me on the floor, my back leaned up against the wall as I self-loathed for a little. How had I let this happen? Couldn't I have fought more, called for help whenever he allowed me to be in public? Though I knew that I had done all I could for myself, I couldn't help but feel minute in comparison to my brother. He had everything over me, it even seemed as if he was beating me in the brain department. How else would he have taken me from the Lightwoods, by himself, with no army? Jonathan certainly wasn't stupid, but he did have a profound weakness for alcohol and tobacco, along with drugs. He was an addict, and if I had enough strength, I could use it to my advantage and escape. The only problem was, I didn't have enough strength.

The last time I had eaten was a week ago, and I was feeling quite famished. Every muscle and ounce of fat that had one been on my fit body had since dissolved, making me frail and weak. Jonathan rarely fed me, and when he did, it was leftovers that he refused to reheat. I was forced to eat cold turkey and beef most meals, my vegetables soft and soupy while being served at room temperature. The food was utterly disgusting, vile in taste, but better then nothing. I looked anorexic, my wounds giving me the look of a beaten up rag-doll that had seen to many years of abuse. It was pitifully horrible.

I had the feeling that my fight for life was almost over; my hunger unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Never had I felt so weak, so hopeless, so lifeless. It was as if with every second I was becoming weaker and closer to death. Never had I thought that this was what it would feel like, never had I thought that it would happen so soon. Surely this was not the end, a god would not make me die after such a miserable few months? Maybe Jace was right, there was no god. Certainly, if he had just wanted to end my life, he would have done it months ago without me being put through this torchure. My captivity hadn't been humane. Anyone could see that. So why was this happening? Why had any of this happened? What had I done to deserve this? I would never know if my life ended here, now.

A loud noise sounded from downstairs, which was quickly followed by a series of clashes and clangs. I could hear Jonathan cursing, all whilst heavy footfalls ran across the floor. It sounded as if a fight was going on downstairs, but in my current state I couldn't be sure. Everything was fuzzy; my vision blurred around the edges. I felt as if I had consumed too much alcohol, and was drowning in a tormented haze of bewilderment. The haze refused to lift; staying as a looming cloud of confusion, never to move itself from my senses.

Another crash, another curse sent flying from Jonathan's drunken mouth. I could hear another voice, vaguely familiar, but too soft for me to discern. The words that the boy- I believed it was- was saying were jumbled in my ears, and I only made out a few words, which could not be pieced together into a comprehendible sentence of any sort. I could have sworn that I heard my name, Clary, mentioned a couple of times, but I was uncertain. Nothing that I was hearing or seeing was I positive about, in fact, all of this could be some deathly delusion of mine, made to help me get by this tough part of my life.

Jonathan spoke loudly. "So, I see you have found us. I wonder why you bothered, to be honest. Once you see her, you will no longer want her. She is more broken then a shattered piece of glass, and I doubt that she will even survive for much longer. Did you know that it has been a whole week since she last ate?"

"Shut up. Where is she?" The boyish voice said, cutting off Jonathan's rant.

"Upstairs. She's probably stone cold by now. You're too late, Wayland. I've beaten you at last." Jonathan taunted, laughing evilly.

At that moment I recognized who the boy was. Jace.

"You, bastard!" He said, and an audible slam was heard as something hit the wall. I presumed that it was Jonathan.

"Hurting me will do you no good. If she's still alive, she won't be for long. You have to choose, Jace. Vengeance, or Clary. My death or her life. One or the other."

"I will kill you, Jonathan. And when I do.." Jace trailed off as Jonathan began to speak once more.

"Good luck catching me. By the time you leave this house I will be long gone."

More footsteps, these ones light and quick; coming in my direction up the stairs. Jonathan said a few words of approval as he rummaged around. The door squeaked in protest as it opened, and closed only seconds later. I knew that my brother had left, and would soon be untraceable. Gone like the wind, one might say. He would not be found unless he wished to be found, and I highly doubted the latter.

Jace's footfalls were frantic around the upper floor as he opened doors repetitively. He called me name a few times, desperation clear in his tone as he slowly progressed in my general direction. I couldn't find the strength to respond to his cries; finding myself immobile in every form. My mouth opened and closed slowly with each labored breath, my chest heaving with the uncanny effort of breathing. If I survived, I would no longer take breathing as a thing to be ungrateful for.

"Clary, clary where are you?" Jace asked loudly, now only a few rooms away.

"Jace..." I said weakly, with barely a whisper.

The room shook slightly as my eyes lost focus. I begged for my eyes to last a little longer. I had to see him again.

"Jace, in here." I said once more, my voice only the slightest bit stronger.

"Clary?" He asked in clarification as he skipped a few doors; making his way to the room that I was currently stuck in.

My heart beat picked up with anticipation. He would be here, in only a few seconds. After all of the months spent apart, severed away from each other, we would finally be reunited. I was ecstatic that I had live to see the day. Now I could only hope that I would survive to see a few more. The chances became slimmer with each pulse of my heart, my minutes left on this earth quickly becoming numbered.

I saw his slim frame come through the doorway, an astonished look crossing over his features. Time appeared to slow as he moved towards me; his arms reaching out hopelessly, while he fell to his knees at my side. For the first time that I had ever seen, tears trickled down his cheeks; my name forming on his lips as a mantra. His golden hair fumbled into his eyes, slipping over his forehead as it inclined towards my own. Jace studied me for a few moments, taking in my terrible outward appearance. I could feel my heart break as he felt my pain, taking the burden of it as if it was his own.

"Clary, I am so sorry.." He sobbed sorrowfully, his face burying itself into my chest as he wrapped his arms around me.

"It's," I paused to cough a little. "Not your fault."

"Yes, it is. But that's besides the point. I have to get you some help."

"Jace, I am so sorry..." I croaked, tears falling down my cheeks.

"Shhh. Don't speak, it only makes it worse." He said, pressing a finger to my mouth while hoisting me into his arms.

I whimpered at the pain that rushed up my spine, making Jace look at me with newfound sullenness.

"Gosh, this is all my fault... Stay with me, Clary. Please." He begged; bringing himself to his feet and puling out a cellphone from his pocket.

I heard him punch in a few numbers, and his voice began to speak frantically into the receiver. "Alec, get Magnus."

Slight pause. "Yes, I need him, now. At the location I sent to you guys."

Another hiatus. "No, he got away."

I heard Alec mumbling on the other end before Jace spoke again. "She doesn't look good. I need Magnus to help her, soon. She doesn't have a lot of time."

He sighed audibly, still carrying me out of the house. "I don't know, Alec. It doesn't matter right now."

My eyes closed, despite all of my efforts to keep them open.

"Clary?" Jace disconnected the call and began to shake me, trying to get a response out of my motionless form.

I tried to move, but my limbs would not budge. This could not be the end, not after I had fought for so long. Jace hadn't come all this way, spent all this time looking for me; only to see my life come to a pitiful end. I willed myself to keep breathing, keep beating my heart, even as I felt myself slipping away. Jace had to know how much I loved him, I had to know how much he loved me. I needed one more selfish kiss from his heavenly lips, just as I needed to feel his touch once more.

My consciousness slowly ebbed away, Jace's cries quickly swallowed up by a world of darkness and silence. Before I knew it, my mind went blank, and I could no longer hear his voice. The thoughts in my head silenced themselves as I fell into the darkened oblivion that marked the end.

AN: Okay, so there it was. I feel quite good about it myself, though I do feel as if the story was a bit cliché at the end. Whatever. Can't help myself, I guess. Anyway, I hope you all liked this! If you did, please review! Tell me if you wish for me to finish it! I will mark it as complete for now, but if I get enough people to complain, saying how much they want me to finish it, I will add another chapter! Thanks for reading, as always, please review!