The rain started up again as Jace scooped Clary up in his arms. It pounded down on them with no mercy, almost as though some angel wanted to wash away all the blood. But it was impossible, the red liquid just stained the ground even more. It mixed with the rain like scarlet ink in a glass of water, diffusing slowly into the colour of wine.
Deep pants robbed Jace of his original rhythmical breathing when he ran up to the door of the Institute. Grabbing the cold, copper nob under his palm, he breathed the words confirming him of being a Shadowhunter like a monk in a monetary, chanting away. The door soon swung open, welcoming them into the building. Once inside, even forgetting to close the door, he shouted the first thing that came to mind, "ALEC!!!"
A dark figure rushed into the entry way, his face illuminated from the flames on the candelabras. Alec looked like he'd always had, a mop of black hair on his head, a black t-shirt with worn jeans. He came in, having a sullen look on his face, almost like he knew something horrible had occurred.
The boys didn't exchange any words, just flung an arm across Alec's shoulder and together half dragged Clary inside.
Once in the elevator, Jace allowed what had happened to sink into his bones. He was barely able to hold Clary. A desperate need to scream came to him, a desperate need of everything, of an answer, of what to do, of wanting to turn back the clock, of wanting this to have never happened. But it did, and it took all his strength to grind his teeth together, and grab Clary so she didn't fall out of Alec's grasp. He turned to his friend, who was more like a brother, but Alec just had his head down, sad and ready to help.
The elevator dinged and they scrambled out, seeing Isabelle across the hallway. She stared in worry for a second, then ran down the hall in the opposite direction, yelling back "I'll get the kit."
The next part was a blur to Jace, who's actions became so automatic that the only way he kept them up was because he'd done this a million times. Tending to a fallen Nephilim was common, very common, too common. Just the memory of Alec's comforting hand on his shoulder, and Isabelle rushing in, replacing his strips of hoddie from Clary's arm with real bandages, then cleaning out the wound, drawing an iratze and then becoming silent like the rest of them, those memories, had stuck.
They sat, side by side, on three chairs in the room, afraid of breaking the delicate silence. Both Isabelle and Alec knew it would have been useless to have asked what happened. That was what mundanes did, but to Shadowhunters, it didn't make a difference. Whatever the occurance, they were still going to act upon it just the same."Should we call Mom?" Isabelle finally asked, after what seemed like hours.
"Jace?" It was Alec, clearly not being able to make a decision, or just thingking that it wasn't his decision to make. It was long before Jace answered. "Yeah, call Maryse. But...." His eyes turned on Alec, "Magnus is the one she needs."
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