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Jace is gone.

Clary's mind repeated those three words over and over again; a never-ending mantra of grief and despair that chorused in her head as if it would never cease. Why did Fate chose to step in and rip him away right now? Why now, of all the times in my life, why did it choose to mock me now? First Mom and Luke, then Jace… Clary could not stop thinking. She could take a small amount of relief in the fact that Jace was still alive, at the very least. If he was still alive, then the world was a better, brighter place. The fact that he was still alive was a two headed snake; however, it meant that he had left her willingly, even after promising her that he would never go, that he loved her, and that he would be faithful until the end.

Part of her just wanted to die. She wanted to end the pain and suffering she was bearing, both the physical and emotional. Being away from Jace literally brought her pain; it was like a giant hole had been ripped through her chest, and she was miserable. Between the anguish of missing Jace and the anguish of the death of her parents…

A sob tore from her throat. Mom… Luke… She forced her emotions back. She would not show weakness. Not in front of Isabelle, not in front of Alec, not in front of Robert or Mayrse. Especially not in front of Kale. Clary would not let her brother see her give up. She would push on and be strong, even if her whole world was crumbling down. Kale made her strong.

She felt an almost maternal pull toward the child; he was sort of able to speak now. He could say Clary; even though the name's true form was shrouded in baby talk. In the month that had passed since their parent's death (for Clary looked at Luke as her father in every way except blood), Kale had taken his first tottering step, aided by Clary. When he had said his first word, "Mama," Clary's heart broke. She was proud of him though. In a book she had once read, she learned that most children do not learn to walk and talk until they were older than the slight seven months that Kale was.

Luke was right- this kid is special. Clary smiled to herself as she picked Kale up from the floor and asked him if he was hungry. Even though he could speak a few words, he was far from being able to answer questions and hold a conversation. Still, Clary continually tried. She placed Kale on her hip and walked to the dining room, where she was nearly trampled by Isabelle.

"There you are! I was just about to go looking for you! We have a visitor! Well, not actually a visitor, I mean, he's here to stay for a while. And he is so cute. I mean, really, really adorable. In fact, he's just plain gorgeous-" Barely coherent, Isabelle could hardly get the words out. The usually porcelained skin girl was flushed, her skin pink with excitement.

"Izzy, stop," Clary interrupted, putting her free hand up to ward off the solid wall of words that was currently erupting from Isabelle's mouth, "What are you talking about?"

Isabelle glanced at Clary impatiently, frustrated at the younger girl's inability to comprehend was she was saying.

"We have a guest. His name is Beck." She spoke slowly, enunciating each word as though Clary were mentally challenged. Clary clucked her tongue impatiently.

"Oh, fine." Isabelle retorted. "His name is Beck; he's from Idris, here on a mission. He's going to stay with us for a while. He has official documents from the Clave. He's in there if you want to see him." Isabelle wandered off, dreamily murmuring, "Absolutely gorgeous… What I wouldn't give to take him to my room for a few hours…"

Clary shook her head and snickered. "We'll just leave Aunt Isabelle to her thoughts, won't we, Kale?"

Kale just looked at her expectantly. Clary sighed, whispering, "Okay, let's get some lunch, shall we?" Clary pushed open the door and casually strolled in. Then she paused. Isabelle was right. Beck was drop-dead gorgeous. And he knew it. The way he carried himself screamed that he knew about his good looks. But he did not seem arrogant. Not yet at least.

He was indifferently leaning against the wall, drinking a cup of coffee. He wore a light blue thermal shirt underneath a black, hooded blazer. His faded jeans were perfectly fitted to his contoured body, and they were faded in all the right- or wrong- places. Clary swallowed hard and forced her eyes upward to his handsome face. He had a strong, square jaw that was framed with dark brown hair. Two perfectly set deep brown eyes demanded her attention away from his half-formed smile. One crooked eyebrow was cocked at her as he looked from her face, to Kale's face, to Robert and Maryse, and back to her face.

"I thought you only had two children?" Beck asked, a slight air of confusion marred his beautiful face.

"Um, sorry. Don't mind me." Clary spoke nervously as she edged toward the kitchen, "I'll just be a minute. Had to get some lunch for myself and the little guy. Go back to your business."

Robert blinked, then said to Clary, "Don't be ridiculous, Clarissa, this isn't business, and you aren't interrupting. Please, sit down." He waved his hand toward one of the fancier dining chairs and continued, "May I introduced Master Beckett Cartwright?"

"Pretentious, I know." My exact thoughts, Clary thought. "Please, just call me Beck." He detached himself from the wall, switched his coffee to his left hand to reach out with his right and shook Clary's proffered, though somewhat shaky hand.

"Clarissa Fray, but please, call me Clary." He shook her hand firmly for a moment before stepping back to examine her more thoroughly.

"Fray, did you say?" He asked. When she nodded, he countered, "So you aren't Robert and Mayrse's child?"

"Not biologically," Mayrse offered, observing the proceedings with much interest.

"Very interesting," Beck looked at Clary with a thoughtful face, "I shall look forward to getting to know you." Beck resumed lounging against the wall as he seemed to notice Kale again. "Cute kid." He said with a slight smirk on his face. "Is he yours?"

At this impertinent questions, Clary's eyebrows shot up as she gave him a once-over. I guess I was wrong, she thought, very arrogant, he seems to be. "My brother." She answered in a clipped tone, "Do you have any kids that we should know about?"

The Lightwood's eyes flew open; Mayrse stifled a gasp, Alec, who had sneaked in behind Clary and gone to the table, stifled a laugh.

Beck laughed outright as he answered, "No, I'm only twenty."

"I'm only eighteen." Clary retorted as she spun on her heel to go to the kitchen. She grabbed what she needed and retreated, saying, "If you need me, I'll be with my brother," placing special emphasis on the last word (she noted that Beck chortled when she did), "In my room." She looked at Alec, who was sitting in one of the chairs with perfect posture and directed her next question to him, "Are we still on for our training session this afternoon?"

"As soon as I get back from Magnus's."

As Clary left the room, she heard, with some reluctant satisfaction, Beck laughingly say. "I think I'm going to like her."

Clary just rolled her eyes.

Later that evening, Clary was preparing for her training with Alec. She preferred to train with him because, though Isabelle was a great fighter, she got tired of training very quickly. Alec, it seemed, could go on forever.

Clary was wearing the informal training gear – a pair of loose sweatpants and a tank top – when she strode in to the training room and shut the door behind her. She took a deep breath and tried not to let the memories of Jace overtake her. She could see it so clearly: talking to Simon while practicing balance, Jace leaping to cut the safety rope, falling on top of him, kissing him like there was nothing in the world but those two… She sighed wistfully. It was time to move on. She saw, from the corner of her eye, a shadow fall and land near her. She ducked backwards, throwing a bare foot out toward whatever was attacking her. The kick was easily dodged and the assailant grabbed her foot. She instantly lunged forward, and he yelled – the cry was definitely masculine – pushing the man backwards and falling on top of him, knees on either side of his chest with her hand at his throat.

It was Beck.

"Oh, it's just you." Clary sniffed, then got up from where she was straddling him.

"Oh, please feel free to stay as you were, I had a lovely view." Beck replied haughtily.

"Don't make me kick you again."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." He pushed himself off of the ground a stood before her, glancing at her gear, seemingly unimpressed before he added, "Alec has been delayed; say hello to your new training buddy." He smiled, half lazily, half cockily.

Clary sighed in exasperation, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling, "That's really awesome," she whispered sarcastically, "that is so great. Just what I needed today."

Beck looked wounded, "That hurts, Clary. That cut me to the quick."

"You'll live," Clary replied, rolling her eyes.

"Well, since you seem to have no desire to train with me," Beck said as he plopped on the floor, "why don't you sit down and talk to me?" When he saw the look on Clary's face, he added, "Torture though it may be." He folded his legs Indian-style and looked up at her expectantly. "Come on, I'm not all that bad. Really."

"Fine," Clary said, crossing her arms and sinking down to the floor.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean any offense by it. In Idris, people my age are married with two or three kids by now, so forgive me if I thought you were married. You're certainly pretty enough to be…" Beck's words trailed off, and he wiggled his eyes suggestively.

Clary shook her head, but she smiled. "Okay, so here I am, what do you want to talk about."

"Well, you could ask me about my very interesting childhood."

"Go on." She sniffed, waving her hand royally at him.

He laughed at her gestured and she smiled.

"Well, I was born and raised in Idris; my parent's names were William and Joanna. I'm nineteen…" he continued on, but something caught Clary's attention.

"Wait, were?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You said 'were.'"

"They died." His reply was short and to the point.

"Oh," she felt like an idiot, "I- I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

"It's alright." His face was sad now.

"How long ago did they-"

"Two months," he answered, already knowing her question.

"I'm so sorry."

"They were murdered. By a demon. Now I'm looking for that demon. And when I find it, I'm going to kill it slowly. It tortured my parents, and it will feel their pain."

Alarm bells were ringing in Clary's head.

"Tortured?" She asked hesitantly.

"Yes. I was gone, out with some friends, you know," he raked his shaking hands through his dark hair, pushing it out of his eyes, "and when I came home – we were staying in Chicago at the time – they were dead. They had been brutally tortured," he paused to take a deep breath, "I came home, walked in the door and-" he broke off, and Clary reached out to take his hand. He smiled at her and continued, "they were dead. I could smell the blood, and the demon stench. When I found them, they were broken," his voice was hollow now as he kept talking, "their arms and legs were grotesquesly broken and twisted. They had been stabbed, cut, burned, you name it, it happened to them."

Clary's fingers, which had been soothingly stroking Beck's hands froze and she gasped.

"What?" He asked, alarmed now.

"That's how I-" It was her turn to pause now, "that's how I found my parents. They were murdered by a demon a month ago. And it sounds like it's the very same one."

Beck looked at her silently. "You must have loved them very much."

"Yes, I did. But you loved your parents too. I know just how you feel."

"Yes, I would imagine that you do," He murmured in her ear, leaning closer and closer. She leaned towards him, closing her eyes and parting her lips very softly. His lips were almost at hers when she leaned back.

"Beck, please. Please don't do this to me. I'm not ready yet." She sniffled, trying to hold back the tears.

He leaned away after tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Who?" He asked. He needed to say nothing more, he knew exactly what kind of pain she was feeling at this moment.

She scrubbed her hand across her eyes before she trusted her voice to answer. "An old boyfriend." She replied, "He left after my parents were killed. He couldn't handle it."

Beck muttered a string of words that rhymed with "mastered" and "ducking glassmole." Clary smiled, despite herself.

"I don't blame him. I was certifiable." She smiled her words. "He said he'd be back, but I don't think that's gonna happen anymore."

She sat up straighter and looked at him happily.

"Tell me more about yourself!" She exclaimed, "You've got me interested now." He just looked at her incredulously. She prompted him with the words, "You were born and raised in Idris, son of William and Joanna…"

He smiled and laid back, propping himself up on one arm. "I was a good kid, you know? Father's dream, mother's pride and joy." Clary rolled her eyes again, he laughed and continued, "I was a pretty good student, but I was much better when I was actively training. And, being an only child, I was pretty spoiled. My parents indulged me. They got me all the pets I ever asked for, weapons too. But they didn't let me get a big head. I was disciplined pretty strictly." He started playing with her hand again, and looked up at her. "And that is basically the story of my life; a parent's dream child, good soldier, famous lady-killer."

Clary interjected with a loud, "HA!"

Beck made a face. "So what about you, Clarissa Morganstern?"

Clary started at the spoken name.

"Yes, I know who you are."

"Well, then you pretty much know my life's story. My mom ran away when she was pregnant with me, raised me as a single mom here in Brooklyn. Every year, she would have Magnus Bane erase all memories of any glamours I saw through. Then I met Izzy, Alec and Jace at Pandemonium, a nightclub for teenagers, where they killed a demon, and after that, things got complicated."

She paused here, and Beck prompted her with an, "I'm listening."

"Well, Jace and I fell in love, but it turned out we were siblings… kind of. It turned out that we weren't, and so we were together until a month ago, but that's not the story I'm telling. Valentine kidnapped my mother and held her hostage, Sebastian (my real brother) almost killed me, all the Lightwoods, Jace, my mother and a whole lot of other people to try to please Valentine, and it all culminated in the last battle in Idris a little over two years ago, where I drew the Alliance rune."

"Wow." Beck said. One word, was all he said.

Oh, great, now I've probably scared him off. That's awesome. Really great. Clary thought.

"I was at that battle." Beck looked up suddenly with a radiant smile on his face, "I remember a red headed girl that drew that rune, uniting me with a werewolf from Lucian Greymark's pack. I remember how beautiful I thought she was, but the face faded from my memory. We probably met and talked, and we never realized it." Beck's short laugh drew Clary's attention.

"What?" She giggled.

"I was just barely old enough to fight," he replied, "I had just turned eighteen. I remember being scared, but excited. Then, when you runed me, I remember I was going to gather up the balls to come and ask you out after the battle was over, but I never saw you again."

Clary laughed, and after a moment, Beck joined in.

"You're sweet," Clary smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"I know. I'm a famous lady-killer, remember?"

They laughed again.

"So I matched you with one of Luke's pack members?"

Beck was lying on his back now, looking up at her face and playing with her fingers.

"Luke?" He asked quizzicably.

"Lucian," Clary corrected, "I'm sorry, I knew him as Luke. He's- or, he was, my stepfather."

Beck cursed out loud.

"I didn't realize. He was a good man."

"I know. I loved him. He was the only father I knew." Clary smiled sadly down at their intertwined fingers. "My brother in there, Kale, that's Luke's son. Luke and my mom got married right after that battle, when I was sixteen. Kale came alone just after I turned eighteen, and six months later, here we are." Clary shrugged helplessly, "I'm the only family he's got now."

Beck sat up and looked her in the eyes. "You are a great sister." He said determinedly. She smiled. His hand cradled her face and they sat looking at each other for a few moments.

"Clary," he whispered.

"Yes, Beck?" she whispered back.

"Do you- I feel-"

"Like we've know each other for a long time?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Me too."

"Good." He smiled.

"Clary?" he added on to the single syllable he had just spoken.

"Yes?" She answered again.

"Would you hate me if I tried to kiss you again?"

"No."

Their lips met. It was a long time before they parted, and when they did, it was only because there was a cough at the door.

Alec and Isabelle stood there, mimicking each other's posture: arms crossed, feet apart, shoulders back, eyebrows arched.

"Canoodling, Clary?" Isabelle asked with blatant disbelief on her face.

"Shut up, Isabelle." Clary replied, scowling at her sister, her parabatai.

Alec smirked, asking if they were quite ready to train yet.

So there you have it, second chapter. Might I also add, this is two chapters in two days, a FIRST for me? Haha. And at 3,105 words, I also think that this is the longest chapter I have ever written.

So, what will happen with Clary and Beck? With Clary and Jace? Will Jace even ever come back? Come a little closer and I will tell you. Closer. Closer….

YOU'LL HAVE TO READ TO FIND OUT!

Hehehe…. I'm evil, I know.

Remember, reviews are like crack to me, they make me go faster. And, because I am shameless, I'll make this announcement: Anyone who reviews this chapter will get a spoiler for the next chapter! Yes, that's right. I'm begging.

Next chapter tomorrow? I'm on a roll, baby!

Peace and Love!