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She’s dead. I killed her. Those words repeated over and over in his head as his vision blurred. Jace felt his hands drop away from Simon, his mind spiraling as his body registered news of Clary’s death. He walked towards the edge of the building. She was just here . The city was spread out in front of him and all he could see was her face. Jace tried to take a steadying breath but all that happened was a small gasp of air. 

His ribs felt like they had cracked open, the soft hidden parts of himself exposed and vulnerable. Every breath was a scraping, grinding sensation- glass that had been shattered on concrete. Sharp and fragile. Clary didn’t feel dead, but then again what should it feel like when your soulmate dies? What’s normal when your world ends? As selfish as it was, he wanted a body, he wanted to hold her to his chest and cry. To be able to say goodbye, but instead she was just… gone?

He could hear Simon speaking, he knew his lips were moving but Jace couldn’t understand his words. Some small detached part of him knew what was happening, he was going into shock. His hands came up to press the heels of his palms into his eyes, the dust from the explosion still swirling on city winds. They came away wet. That small voice answered his confusion. You’re crying Jace.  

Color went grey around him, his perception flattened as his mind tried to cope. The noise of the city changed into a dull, distant hum. How many people had he helped Lilith murder, how many had survived? None of them would be the same. He would never be the same. A new feeling took root, he deserved this . This was the Angel balancing what he had done. His grip on reality loosened as he collapsed to his knees, but even the sharp pain of concrete rubble under his legs wasn’t enough to pull him back.

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Magnus helped hold Alec’s arm steady as he activated his Iratze rune over and over. The arrow that Jace has pushed into his chest millimeter by millimeter had been removed and now he just needed to heal. Magnus used his free hand to stroke his hair and tried to find words to reassure him, speaking quietly in any language he could remember. Prayers and words of comfort mumbled loud enough for only Alec to hear. 

His fight with Jace had been vicious, and his body had borne the brunt of it. His brother was one of the best fighters of their generation, everyone knew that. But it has been so much worse than that, his angel blood and years of training combined with Lilith’s magic made the fight nearly unwinnable. The only reason Alec had held on as long as he did was because he had something that Jace while possessed didn’t have, hope. Hope that his brother would be returned to them, hope that they’d defeat Lilith. 

If Alec closed his eyes too long, flashes of their struggle replayed in his mind. Blow after blow, a snapped wrist, at least one broken rib and the damage from the arrow all slowly being healed by Jace’s borrowed stele. However the memories of the words that had been said would take longer, even if Alec knew it wasn’t Jace who had said them. He meant what he said, he forgave Jace for what happened, none of it was his fault. 

When an explosion detonated above them Magnus threw his body over him to shield him from debris. Alec knew he should be worried, he should be questioning what was happening above them, was Clary okay? Was Izzy? Jace? Instead he stared into Magnus’ eyes as a few small pieces whistled past, landing away from them. 

How brave was this man who had saved him, had saved Jace. He noticed that his eyeliner was still perfect from this morning, and although Magnus’ lips were thin and drawn down in a frown he knew they’d soften against his. He tried to remember what they tasted like. His hand dropped the stele to cup Magnus’s cheek, his eyes studying his face. When Magnus tried to pull away his grip tightened. 

Magnus kissed his lips softly and somehow more of his pain went away. He closed his eyes revealing the feeling of him. They were alive, yes he was injured, but he would heal. They would heal. Some part of his mind remembered what Magnus had done to save his parabatai; he had traded all of his magic for just a part of Alec’s soul. The sacrifice wasn’t lost on him. Alec would spend the rest of his life trying to honor that. 

Finally Magnus pulled back and Alec let his hand drift from his face. Magnus pressed the stele back into his palm, “Come on Alexander, a few more and I’ll let you sit up.” 

Alec tried to laugh but it came out like a weak cough. Magnus guided his hand to his rune again and Alec had to close his eyes in concentration to activate it. A fresh wave of pain relief and healing passing through his body.

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She had promised Alec that she would stay away from the fight but it didn’t mean she couldn’t help when it was over. She nearly entered the fray when the top floor exploded but hesitated, calling the Institute for backup instead. She worked her way towards the explosion. Having the warlock on duty accompany her, for quick transport. They needed the scene wrapped before the mundanes arrived.

She found Alec and Magnus first, her son bloody but slowly healing in the arms of Magnus Bane. She never thought she’d think of her son's boyfriend with relief and yet there it was. Magnus’ steady hand holding Alec’s arm still as he used a stele. She tamped down on her own fears and instead took pride that her oldest child had survived.

She knelt quickly and gave Alec a calm wide smile before softly gripping Magnus’ shoulder.

“You two should get out of here.” Magnus shook his head at her, “I can’t portal, Maryse.” Her eyes narrowed but she didn’t dwell on it, it was just one more problem to solve.

“Okay. Where to? The loft or the Institute?” She caught the attention of the warlock standing ready.

It was Alex who answered, “Home, I want to be home with Magnus mom.”

His hand was shaking with the effort of activating the stele. Magnus’ eyes met her in a surprised glance. Alec never referred to the Institute as home, ever. It was always formal, The Institute. They both had caught it. She gave Magnus a reassuring squeeze and nodded before stepping back and looking for the next emergency.

She didn’t pause to watch them disappear, she knew her escort would catch up.

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Truthfully Izzy was grateful for Maryse's arrival. Her mother had spent over a decade as the co-head of the New York Institute and was better prepared than anyone besides Alec to set up an incident response. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been the co-head in months, or that she had been deruned, or even that she was an outcast from Shadowhunter society, most importantly to Izzy- she was her mom.

Some of the civilians needed medical attention, all of them needed their memory wiped. Everyone needed to be found and portaled back to the Institute ASAP. And no one could handle that better than Maryse.

Luke had to spend a few minutes convincing Ollie to leave despite her inclination to stay and help. Finally escorting her to the portal edge and promising that he’d check in with her soon. He continued to work on the response on the ground floor, giving triage, and reassurances as more civilians shook Lilith's mind control. Most helpful of all he had a firefighters elevator key and was able to send Izzy to the penthouse directly.

On the ride up she prayed that her friends would be dazed but alright, trying to have hope. When the doors opened it was so much worse than she ever could imagine. The walls were blown off, the building no longer had a roof. Izzy wondered how anyone survived the damage. The wind whipped around her, and she tried not to shiver in her thin leather jacket.

Simon was standing by the door, arms folded tightly across his body, hands jammed into his sides. He didn’t even look terrified, just empty. The usual amusement and light that danced in his eyes gone, replaced by tears that wouldn’t stop. Most worrying of all, he wasn’t speaking.

Izzy had to shake his shoulders to get him to focus on her. “Simon! Simon, where’s Clary? Where’s Jace?” He looked over her shoulder, surveying the damage for a moment before she heard his quiet mumble.

“Ikilledher.” Izzy let go of him and took a step back not believing what he said.

She had to find them. A desperate hope blossomed in her chest that one of both of them were just injured, together but injured. That Simon was wrong, he was mistaken. She could almost imagine it, Clary so focused on activating Jace’s healing rune that nothing else existed. Or Jace without the help from the elevator was already carrying Clary down to the ground level for help.

She nearly tripped over Jace in her search. He was just suddenly there, her heel catching on his boot. Izzy had never seen Jace so still, even sleeping he always seemed ready at any moment to leap up and defend, to attack. He didn’t even look like he was breathing, she nearly cried when she finally saw him blink.

She crouched in front of him, “Jace, are you injured?” She could see small cuts and bruises across his body, but he looked relatively unharmed. Nothing an iratze couldn’t heal. Jace was on his knees, body resting in his heels. He looked at her with confusion, like she had asked her question in tongues before dropping his head to stare at the ground. Izzy persisted, “Jace, where's Clary?” She reached for his shoulders, trying to get his attention.

He flinched hearing her name, but lifted his head as his hands gently gripped hers, trying to reassure her. His large callused hands pressing her palms together. His throat worked for a moment before he could answer. “She didn’t make it, Izzy. I’m sorry.”

She tried to pull her hands from him, not believing his words, his grip shifted and tightened. “No, Jace. Where’s Clary.” When he took too long to answer she fought harder to pull away from him. He lifted his chin to maintain eye contact. She knew he was getting ready to say the same thing, Izzy cut him off. “No. Jace, NO.”

She stood trying to back away from him and he stood with her. “I’m sorry, Iz. I didn’t get here in time.” She shook her head at his words and looked around, looking for Clary in the rubble. He had to be wrong, Clary wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be.

She struggled to pull away farther but Jace held on gently and pulled her into his arms loosely. His embrace felt like stone, cold and unyielding. She wanted to fight against his comfort but he pulled her closer, wrapping her in a hug.

She felt her knees give out and Jace still held her, taking the weight of her body. Holding her up when she knew he could barely stand himself.

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Luke wondered how much more loss he could endure. His life has been nothing but lessons on loss, all of it because of his damned parabatai. Valentine had brought him his greatest joys and his deepest sorrow. His betrayal and role in Luke becoming a werewolf, the rift between him and his sister, and most recently the death of Jocelyn, and now Clary.

Jace had led Izzy and Simon down from the site of the explosion just as the last person was transported back to the Institute for care. Maryse immediately went to Izzy seeing her distress. Eyes red rimmed and her shoulders slumped. Her love and care for her daughter reminded him of his loss again, like a buoy crashing on the rocks of sharp grief.

He had to give Jace credit. The younger man didn’t flinch as he approached Luke, a gentle guiding hand on Simon's shoulder. They had known her the longest, the man who had become her father and her best friend.

“I’m sorry Luke, I wasn’t able to…” he watched as Jace’s mouth twisted like he was in pain. Simon twitched a little and continued not making eye contact with either of them, “I killed her.”

Even as the shock wore off, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe the little girl he raised was dead. Luke’s mind emptied of rational thought, memories of Clary bubbled up. First days of school, dinners they’d had as a family, a thousand little unimportant moments. He always knew they would have more time, more memories to make as family. He knew he should try to reassure Simon but he couldn’t get out of his head.

It was Jace who came to his rescue, turning Simon to face him and forcing his attention to focus on him. “Simon, you don’t have to believe me now but this- any of this, is not your fault.”

Simon’s head shook in disbelief, hearing the words but not believing them. Jace gave the younger man a gentle nod. “It’s okay Simon, I’ll remind you tomorrow, and the day after. Every day, until you believe it. You didn’t fail Clary.”

Luke heard the unspoken parts of Jace’s reassurances. How could Simon be responsible when Jace felt he was to blame for the entire debacle.

“He’s right son, this is nobody’s fault but Lilith’s.” He hoped that both younger men were listening.

Maryse approached them with Izzy, but Jace stepped back from their small group before she could hug him. Before she could give Jace the solace of a mother’s comfort. He wasn’t ready to accept it yet, Luke knew the feeling, he could see how close to the surface his emotions were. Before any of them could stop him he left, disappearing into the night.

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He wandered for hours in the dark, aimless. It was late enough that no one was on the sidewalks, even cars were mostly absent from the street. New York may be the city that never slept, but occasionally took a nap.

He didn’t even realize he ended up near Magnus’ loft until he turned the corner and saw the inviting glow on the top floor. His hand drifted to his parabatai rune, taking solace in his connection with Alec. He needed to check in on his brother, and more than that he wanted to check in on Magnus. As much as he wished he was dead right now, Magnus had made a great sacrifice and he couldn’t forget that.

But he also needed to inform them both about Clary’s demise.

Magnus’ face was lined with worry when he opened the door. He startled seeing Jace standing on his doorstep. “Jace I thought you’d be with…”

Jace interrupted him, “Are you okay? Were you injured?”

Magnus shook his head, he looked even more deeply confused. “I’m… I’m alive Jace. Alexander has been asking for you.”

Magnus opened the door wider trying to welcome Jace into his apartment and he nearly walked away, wanting to avoid this conversation. He knew that this was going to be hard and Jace almost disappeared back into the anonymity of the city. A few lights were on in the apartment but Jace couldn’t see the usual rich colors it was decorated with. It was like someone had done laundry wrong and washed most of the color out of everything around him. At least on the dark streets of New York it was harder to notice.

Jace peeled his jacket off, trying to ignore the patches of sticky, still drying blood on it, before letting Magnus lead him to their bedroom. Alec seemed to be asleep, sitting upright with what looked like every pillow in Magnus’ apartment behind him. He felt his mouth quirk a little in a smile, Alec was alive. He didn’t feel true relief or happiness at his parabatai being alive. Just a flicker of gratitude and a weighty sense of duty. A stack of fire messages were beside him. Alec must have been writing orders to the Institute for the past couple of hours. His parabatai was alive and apparently still doing paperwork. Even grievously injured he was still working.

Jace sat on the edge of the bed, hoping he wasn’t disturbing his rest. Magnus took up his previous spot, the chair that usually lived in the corner now dragged closer to the bed.

Alec looked terrible, pale skin with dark circles under his eyes, his hair was half limp and half stuck up in odd tufts. His breathing was shallow and he was favoring one side of his chest. Jace remembered the feel of Alec’s rib breaking under his fist. The memory passed through him like an electric shock and nearly made him hurl. His wrist was in a splint, and the memory of Alec’s scream reverberated painfully in his head.

Jace pushed all of that down as he reached for the stele that was sitting on the nightstand. He knew that runes activated by a parabatai would be more potent than anyone else. Without a second thought he focused and activated the healing rune, watching Alec’s face go a little slack with the removal of any pain.

After a few more activations Alec woke up. His eyes blinked, the joy on his brother's face at seeing him was quickly extinguished seeing his expression.

“Jace, what happened? Where’s Izzy?” Alec struggled to sit up trying to get closer to him. Jace eased him back, trying to get him to relax.

“She’s fine, she was with mom last I knew.” His words didn’t seem to relax Alec.

The longer he was quiet the more agitated Alec seemed to become. He struggled to find the words, how do you tell someone news like this? He glanced at Magnus remembering that the warlock had known Clary for almost all her life.

“I’m sorry, I have to inform you both that Clary didn’t make it.”

How many times tonight would he have to say some combination of these words? When would he start to believe it. Even saying those words to his parabatai, his brother, didn’t make it feel real. It was Magnus who caused that to happen. He whispered “Biscuit?” in a soft sad voice and that was the thing that broke Jace’s heart. Alec rested his hand on Jace’s arm, at a loss for what to say. For a while none of them talked.

Jace sat trying to believe it. Trying to believe that Clary was dead and he would never see her again. That feeling from earlier came back, as selfish as it was, he wished for a body. He thought he might be able to grieve if he had that. One last chance to see her, to hold her hand.

Even as despair settled into his bones there was a thin thread of hope, she’d defied the odds before. Thrown into his world because of her mother’s disappearance, she killed Valentine to avenge her father murdering him, although she was new to being a Shadowhunter she had already proved herself a survivor. In the short time he knew her there were a thousand moments where she could have failed and she always endured. How could he not hope she did again.

Eventually Alec drifted off to sleep, exhaustion and his injuries still taking a toll on his body. Jace closed his eyes taking a moment of solace in Alec being alive despite his efforts. It wasn’t long before his memories of Alec also featured Clary. That chasm opened in his chest again, as grief welled in him and pushed through his ribs painfully. In his sleep Alec groaned a little and his eyebrows knit together, Jace realized that their proximity and Alec’s injuries were letting Jace’s pain seep through.

He tried to calm himself down but instead what he felt was an anger that burned through his veins. Anger at himself, anger at how Lilith had used him. He remembered everything. All of his time as the Owl, the dangerous prisoners he set free, the mundanes he had hurt. Watching his own hands murder his grandmother, dropping Clary off the roof of the building. His stomach churned.

He stood suddenly, striding out of the room wanting to flee, but stopped in the middle of the living room, at a loss what he should do next. The weight of his sins settling across his shoulders and indecision and grief causing his step to falter.

Magnus approached him. “Jace, you should rest.”

He shook his head, “I can’t Magnus. When I close my eyes, for too long I see her. Her body. In my room, or lying on the roof of that car, broken.” His throat choked his words, barely able to speak. At least in Lilith’s nightmare he could see her. He could hold her. He eyed the door to the apartment wondering if he would have the strength to make it back to the Institute. “I did that, I did all of that.”

Magnus’ voice was nothing but pure empathy, “You know that’s not true Jace.”

His head twitched, trying to dodge the words. “It’s true enough.”

Magnus stepped in front of him. “I have a sleeping draught you can take. No nightmares, and Alexander and I will be right here.”

He went to pick up his jacket from the back of the armchair and he couldn’t make eye contact with Magnus. He didn’t respond to his offer. “I don’t know how you can look at me.”

“I look at you like someone who loves and tries to protect Alexander at all cost, that hasn’t changed.” Magnus gripped his shoulder, trying to reassure him of his words.

Jace nodded hearing him but couldn’t accept his words. His voice was thick with emotion when he turned to Magnus, “Thank you, and thank you for taking care of him.” His chin jerked towards their bedroom.

Magnus looked like he was going to say something more but swallowed his words. Jace turned on his heel and left, disappearing from Magnus’ apartment quickly. The only thing he had left was work, to fix the mistakes he had made, his duty to being a Shadowhunter. A new hope whispered to him, the promise of relief if he died in battle. If he died in a fight then he wouldn’t have been giving up, it wouldn’t be a sin. It would make his life worth something.

Jace knew that the city was glowing with the first rays of sun. Hitting the glass windows and causing the streets to glitter, but he didn’t see it. He would only ever be in the never ending night of a life without Clary beside him.