OHMIGOSH I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH! Never, ever, EVER would I have expected the amount of follows and reviews as I got. I was expecting like… two reviews and a favourite… if I was lucky… instead I got like 10 follows and well that just made my day! I'm really sorry though as I was going to post this last week because it was finished and everything but I didn't get around to editing it till today so I'm posting it now and I love you guys and just bear with me. So I'm making this chapter longer (by 300 words) just for you guys… yeah no it was going to be longer anyway but whatever… oh and next chapter probably won't come till the holidays because school is so busy…

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments or its characters or any of the places… especially New York… though apparently someone tried to sell New Zealand on eBay once and it got to something-million before eBay took it down… people are strange.

p.s read this with an open mind… clary was raised and cared for by valentine… and I put emphasis on the CARED because well... you'll see.

Clary sat bolt upright in bed, breathing rapidly, the sheets tangled around her; her hair plastered to her neck and clothes drenched in sweat. It was one of the many dreams she'd been having over and over again about things she could not explain why she was seeing. This dream was one of the more frequent ones. It was like she was supposed to remember something that had never happened. Every time she saw it though, she felt as if she had to see all the people in the room's faces, as if she knew them or would meet them later and had to memorise their faces to be able to identify them when she saw them. The demons were easily recognisable as the monsters they are. The people though, as hard as she tried, she could never see their faces in enough detail to be able to identify them. The only thing clary could make sense of was that both the man and the woman in her dream were Shadowhunters. The girl was too young to be a proper shadowhunter and didn't appear to know of the shadow world. The entire reason why clary was having these dreams was a mystery but in each different dream there where a different set of people, all of whom she had no idea who they were, fuelled the burning desire to know who they were. Just like every other dream, she came up blank.

The old grandfather clock in the hall struck two in the morning as Clary lay back down with a sigh. She heard the soft squeak of the door handle being turned and quickly rolled over, facing away from the door, pulling the sheets up around herself. She covered her face showing only the very top of her head and bright red hair. She faked deep breathing and prayed to the Angel that it wasn't her brother.

Johnathan Christopher Morgenstern was one year older than her; tall, unnaturally fast and extremely strong. He was her brother and he'd been her worst nightmare almost all of her life. He had use to love to torment her and hurt her always trying to prove to her that he was bigger and stronger and there wasn't anything she could do about it. Recently though he had become a highly creepy, watching her every move in training with intense, almost possessive looks and letting his eyes wander freely over her body. It was highly unsettling but what bothered Clary most was at night, when their father had gone to bed, he would come into her room and watch her sleep. He would stand there for an hour and just stare at her before he quietly left and went to bed. She never dared let on to him that she was awake for fear of what he would do, fear fired by the hungry, lustful looks he gave her as she felt his black, demonic eyes roam her body as he thought she slept.

She tried to control her breathing and relax her body as the door creaked open. She felt someone walk into the room rather than hear them as the door closed softly behind them. She then heard the breath of a laugh as a voice said softly "I know you are awake Clarissa". She let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding in relief. So much for breathing deeply she thought to herself as she pulled the sheets off her face and rolled over to watch her father walk over to the large chair beside her bed.

The chair had been there since she was five and used to have nightmares and she would scream until he came into her room and sat beside her until she fell back to sleep to make sure no demons came and hurt her during the night. It had been six months since Valentine Morgenstern had sat in that chair, the last time being for an entire week after Clary had been attacked by two demons while sitting near the forest, drawing the trees in the new sketch book her father had gotten her for her birthday. She was doing pretty good with the first one and was about to kill it when the second demon came up to her and started attacking her from behind.

Clary had chopped off the demons arm and stabbed it, pinning it to the ground. She was about to put her seraph blade through its heart when a searing, burning pain suddenly shot up her back. She heard a scream fill the air and vaguely realised it was hers. She saw black spots dance across her vision as her knees began to give way. Another searing pain burned across her back and she was thrown sideways into the dirt. She barely felt the demon climb atop her to hold her down and started ripping at her clothes and hair. Suddenly there was a flash as a shining glowing object came towards her and the weight of the demon was removed. The black spots became bigger and clouded her vision as her body began to feel like it was floating. So this is what it feels like to die, she thought as the blackness came over her and everything went blank.

She didn't wake up till two days later and found her father sitting in the chair beside her bed with dark circles under his eyes from having stayed up almost all night and day, only dosing off a couple of times, making sure she was alright. He had explained how he was in the stables nearby and had heard her scream before he had come running over and killed both demons before carrying her back to the house.That's what the floating sensation was she'd thought. She'd been stuck in bed for the next week getting high fevers and migraines until one night she had a dream of this unknown woman with dark reddish-brown hair who drew a ruin on the inside of her arm and she woke up feeling completely normal with the fading outline of the ruin on her arm. She decided not to mention the dream to her father until she knew what to make of it.

"You really are terrible at faking your sleep Clarissa," came her father, bringing her back to the moment.

"Thanks. You're so kind," she said back sarcastically to which he just smiled and rolled his eyes. It was one of those rare moments alone with her father where she felt completely at ease. She could joke around without the fear of being reprimanded later from having done it in front of somebody important. She could talk to him and complain to him without being told that he was too busy and didn't have the time for her. Most importantly to her though, it was the only time that she could truly call him her dad.

"So, how was training today?" he asked. Valentine often tried to make time each day where he would oversee some part of his daughters' learning. Sometimes he would be too busy to make time for her especially if he were off at a meeting or had business looking people around debating about something or was simply sitting at his desk in his study reading a mound of papers that would take him days or even weeks to get through. Today was one of those days where he had stayed in his study all day reading papers. Clary could see the weariness in his eyes and smile and it made him look ten years older.

"Oh you know, I pulled 'the usual' on the poor idiot," she replied casually. When she was ten Clary had been learning a manoeuvre were she was supposed the pretend to rush at her opponent and then dive to the side and roll behind the offender and come up to either attach them from behind or escape all in the space of a few seconds. As clary was running at her opponent, in this case her father, she attempted to through herself to the side and instead managed to slip, sliding under her father to behind him quicker than if she had performed the manoeuver she was supposed to do and stopped and sat up and looked around herself confused. Her father had whirled to lecture her that sliding along the ground would not work for most demons, took one look at her expression and burst out laughing. It became her regular escape manoeuvre whenever she felt she were losing a fight and would feign the other manoeuvre and instead slide between the legs of whomever her father had called in to help train her. Of course, she added extra moves to her act, jumping up and flipping up and over the top of her opponent and grabbing onto a rope net attached to the ceiling. She would quietly hang from the net while the confused guy spun around in circles trying to figure out where she had disappeared to. Just as he started to realise she wasn't on the ground anymore she would drop from her position kicking the idiot on the back so that he fell flat on his face and drive the blade she was holding into the floor beside his head, slightly grazing his ear drawing a small droplet of blood.

"You really need to stop pulling that trick on the people I call in for you Clarissa," He said to her in a reprimanding tone, "sooner or later I'll start running out of contacts of people who have not yet faced you and you certainly won't be able to fool them twice."

"You'd be surprised," she muttered to herself though he obviously heard as he raised his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head.

"What am I going to do with you?" he mused quietly with a small smile on his face. Clary smiled back. He sighed and looked back at her and smiled. "Get some sleep; I'm sure tomorrow will be a busy day."

"As busy as the last one," she replied.

"As busy as they will ever be." Clary and her father both smiled and he lent forward and kissed her check. "Goodnight Clary," he said and he started walking away.

Clary yawned, suddenly realising how tired she was, and rolled over pulling the blankets up around her. "Goodnight Dad" she replied quietly just as she felt herself drifting back to sleep.

Yeah so as you can see they have a very good father-daughter relationship at the moment… sorry my story kept having flashbacks but I felt they were necessary… anyways I hope you liked it and I'm sorry for any spelling errors uh… yeah that's about it I think.

Oh and don't forget to pester me and as always read, review and well… that's about it I guess.

~amy xx

Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.

-Dr. Seuss