The Dark Side of the World (TDA)

*Chapter 4*

Previously on 'The Dark Side of the World':

"What is that thing and how the heck is it supposed to heal me head?"

He stairs at me before gasping and pressing his hand to his mouth.

"You're not a shadowhunter?"

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"A what now" 

He jumps to his feet and begins pacing, back and forth, back and forth.

"I've literally never heard that word in my entire life" I say truthfully, wracking my brain for any memory of it.

He starts to mumble under this breath, so softly that I can only catch a few words.

"Shadowhunter....law....clave...I can't...kill me."

"Sorry what was that" I ask, knowing full well that he never meant to me to hear.

 "So you've never heard that before? Not ever?" he demands

I shake my head, and he goes back to pacing.

"Um, if you mind my asking, why does this matter?" I ask. He doesn't answer. I really didn't expect him too. Now that my mind isn't occupied elsewhere, my head throbs painfully and I wince.

"Listen, I don't know what's going on right now, but um my head really kinda hurts, so I'm just going to go to the hospital-"

"No!" he gasps, then at my alarmed look asks, "Where are your parents? Are they inside the house?"

I shake my head again. "No my Mom's on a work trip. But she did leave me a list of these 'emergency contacts' apparently in her dresser, so I'll be fine."

He stops his pacing to look at me "Do you think I could have a look at that list?" he asks hesitantly. 

Why in the world does he want to look at that?

"Um sure" I say.

He holds out a hand to help me up, and I let him. Him hand is rough and callused, but worm and comforting too. I lead the way to the door on shaky legs that I'm afraid will give out. I pull a key out of my bad and fit it into the door, opening the door with a small click. By now my clothes are so wet, squeezing them out outside would do almost nothing, so I don't even try.

"Nice house." he say conversationally behind me. "Hey I just realized, I don't actually know your name."

That's true, I realize. I just invited a random guy into my house without even knowing his name. He saved you life, you know, my mind reminds me. But still.

"Well my name's Livia" I tell him pulling off my soaking sweater, and grabbing another.

"A pretty name." he says, and I blush. "I'm James, by the way. James Herondale."

"Nice to meet you"

I climb the stairs slowly, thinking about how this really isn't the time to fall down, and open the first door on the left. My mother's. 

For some reason, as I push it open, I find myself expecting it to be different somehow, though I haven't touched it since she left. But it still looks the same. Bare of interesting decorations for the most part, except for a few pictures of me. The exact opposite of my room. The big bed in the middle of the room is messy, like she didn't even bother to make it before she left.

James raises his eyebrows at a photo of me as a little baby, and I quickly turn it over. He laughs.

"Ok, so where did she say this list was?"

"The dresser, I think." I answer opening the first drawer.

It's completely empty except for a box labeled Personal! Do Not Touch.

I look back at James for what to do, and he just shrugs to tell me he has no idea either. So, with slightly shaking hands, I open the box.

The first thing I see on the top of the box is a photo, but not the one I've seen. A different one. There are more people in this photo, probably about twenty, and they all look so happy, their arms around each other. There are people of all ages in this photo, kids, teenagers and some adults all with the same marks as James and the woman. 

When I turn back to see what James thinks of the photo, I find him starring at it intently, his face as pale as a sheet.

"Why does she have that" he murmured

"You recognize it?" I ask, surprised

"Keep looking, we might not have much time" He says, not answering my question

"What do you mean might not have much time!" I demand, a brand new wave of fear rolling over me.

"Livia." he says warningly

"Oh fine." I huff, turning back to the box.

I carefully place the photo off to the side, and look at the next thing in the box. A list! My heart leaps, a million thoughts racing through my head. This is my chance. No matter when she comes back, no matter what the hell James Herondale is looking for, this is my chance. My window into my mother's life. So imagine my disappointment, my surprise, when the list is just names. Of people I've never heard of.

"Tessa Gray, Jem Carstairs.. who are these people?" I mutter impatiently

James, who's attention had been on the photo, perks up.

"Tessa Gray?"  he asks pulling the piece of paper from my hands.

His eyes rake down the short list of carefully scrawled names with increasing disbelief, finally settle on two names at the bottom of the list and he chokes out a sound of incredulity.

"What!"

"Those are my parents names."

A/N

Moihah! Sorry for another cliffhanger, I just can't help it.

So the guy who saved Livia is none other than James Herondale! I'd like to mention that this is not a Last Hours fanfic, so James isn't the same one that's in Chain of Gold. He's Jace and Clary's son, if that wasn't already clear. Don't worry, you'll get to see the rest of the TMI gang later, but for now it's just James

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