Work Text:
The Institute felt quieter than normal – it had ever since they lost Jace. It was especially noticeable as Isabelle walked through the empty hallways towards the training room. Normally, there were people mulling about or at least sounds coming from the occupied rooms, but ever since Valentine got the cup, people spoke in hushed whispers behind closed doors. Isabelle knew what they were all thinking, she was thinking it, too.
They didn’t stand a chance. Not without Jace. Not when Valentine had the Mortal Cup.
When Isabelle finally reached the training room, she was surprised to see Clary there – the hair that had come free from her ponytail was stuck to her face and her skin was glistening with a layer of sweat. She was punching the bag with every ounce of strength she had and Isabelle suspected that they were here for the same reason.
Everything was a mess and they needed to punch something.
Isabelle didn’t say anything at first, just observed Clary for a moment. Her technique was getting a lot better – training with Alec must be paying off. “Don’t hurt yourself,” Izzy said with a forced grin as she stepped closer to Clary.
Clary turned towards her then, her chest heaving as she wiped the sweat off of her forehead with the back of her hand. “Hey,” she replied, ripping open the Velcro on her gloves and dropping them onto the floor. “I thought everyone else was asleep,” she bent over to grab her water bottle.
“I wasn’t,” Isabelle said simply, although she wasn’t in the mood to talk. She turned on her heel and went over to the weapons table, picking up a few of the throwing knives. They felt cool against her skin and the weight was familiar in her hand. She took a few seconds to line up before throwing them with almost frightening accuracy. She could practically feel Clary’s eye on her as she threw the knives, watching her closely.
Isabelle wasn’t always great at throwing knives though, it had taken her a long time to learn how to do it properly and a lot of patience on Jace’s part. Alec had been the one to try teaching her first – she didn’t remember why it was Alec and not Hodge – but he’d gotten so frustrated with her asking the same question over and over that he’d stalked off. Jace had stepped in, then, and showed her the proper way to do it without getting upset like Alec did.
Jace. It almost hurt to think about him. They didn’t know how he was, which was the worst part. They knew he was alive because of Alec’s parabatai bond, but they didn’t know anything else.
“Are you okay?” Clary asked, interrupting Isabelle’s thoughts. She must’ve seen the distraction flit across Izzy’s face – try as she might, Isabelle had never been very good at concealing her emotions.
“No,” Isabelle answered honestly for the first time since Camille’s apartment. “Are you?”
Clary shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “No, I’m not,” her voice was choked at it made Isabelle’s heart hurt. Clary was strong, but this situation was so terrible that she felt helpless. Isabelle knew exactly what that felt like.
Soundlessly, Isabelle crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Clary’s shoulders. She buried her face in the redhead’s neck, biting back tears she’d been stifling for so long as Clary sobbed into her shoulder. She bit her lip to keep from crying too hard, trying her best to comfort Clary as she took in one shuddering breath after another.
They had to find a way to defeat Valentine. They had to get Jace back. They had to find a way to get the Mortal Cup.
But for now, they just needed to find a way to endure.