Lacrymose

You're standing in the shadows

Clary is lost in a world of shadows, each figure she runs to dissolves into smoke. It's infinity here, in this grayscale landscape of shadows and darkness. This is all her world has been reduced to.

And there's a whisper, a susurration of sound in this landscape and she cannot escape it.

"What's wrong, little sis? You look upset."

The voice sing-songs in that lilt that drives terror down her spine and she crouches against the ground as a bitter laugh echoed around her, as memories rise unbidden and wanted-

She doesn't even hear him, as he clamps a hand across her mouth from behind and within second, her wrists are tied behind her, preventing any plans she had hastily formed inside her mind.

His voice sounds next to her ear, low and husky and gravelly with a sour undercurrent, something hot and heavy.

"Aren't you just a treat?"

And then his hands are pulling, pinching and roaming and digging-

She yanks herself out of the memory, gasping as she fought to regain control of herself and her mind. That dark chuckle rings around again and she wants to kill him, scream and cry out until she can no longer speak.

"What do you want?!!! You took everything already!! What do you want me for?"

There's no reply but she's hurled forward into a mess of demons and monsters, with a sand-haired man chasing her. He catches her and hurts her, then releases her once again. Over and over, she runs and runs.

Because deep in the darkness is a face she recognises, a tall figure she knows in all her lives- with a proud smirk and haughty cheekbones and glorious eyes that fix on her with that same look they always do- or did.

That wide eyed wonder, shock and love and care and lust. But that's not how he looks at her now. There's still love and lust and care but there is shock and horror and terror and self-hatred and self-disgust in his gaze in life, dark and heavy like the secrets that dragged their love to the ocean's floor.

But his eyes are the only light in the darkness, as she struggles through a seemingly never ending tide of death and pain.

And it's worth it, once she gets there. He's just like he is in life, warm and solid and trustworthy and-

There's a sharp pain in her chest, as a red curtain spreads down her chest and she looks down to find a silver bound dagger buried in her chest. She questions him with her eyes but all she sees is the curving of pale lips in a mockery of his smirk. And then, all that fills her view are the eyes of a thousand demons.

She awakes in a scream, struggling to throw off the covers that bind her and she cannot keep still, struggling and fighting. The demons-

There are no demons, no dagger buried in her chest and the scream cuts off abruptly, the silence ringing. But there's a hand on her shoulder and she throws it off, backing up against the headboard and all she sees are blonde strands-

But they're too dark, too golden and a lion-gold gaze swims into view, wide eyes almost begging her to respond. His lips are moving and she can't hear him over the ringing in her ears. But it fades and she can hear the terror and the worry in his voice.

"-lary! Clary, answer me! Please...God, answer me!" Clary blinked and opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was like the sahara and she felt as if sandpaper had been rubbed down her throat. She coughed and choked as she tried to speak, throat sore from lack of water and her screams during her rest.

His face seemed struck by a realisation and he passed her a glass of water, watching as she gulped down a mouthful and sigh in relief as the beverage quenched the desert in her throat. "I-I'm okay.. I'm okay."