Time Twisted

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Despite how much I would love to, I don;t own the Infernal Devices Series by Cassandra Clare, which sadly means that I don't own Jem or Will. Nor do I own the Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare, which also means I don't own the very delicious Jace :(

What I DO own is the plot, along with my original characters that you haven't met yet. :)

Jem eyed the broken off sliver of glass warily, his silver eyes staring intently at the mirror-like object. "I honestly haven't the slightest clue about how this relates to the Downworlder case," he said with a questioning glance at Will, who was standing next to him, holding a witchlight over Jem's head to illuminate the darkness. They were standing just by the docks, where the air was usually dense and humid. But that night, it was actually clear enough that you could see the stars and inhale the fresh air. Tessa was just several paces back, her mind clearly elsewhere.

"Perhaps there is an inscription on the back," Tessa pointed out. Nodding, Jem cautiously flipped the thin material over, careful to not break it apart. Nothing.

Will, snatched the fragile item from Jem and held it at eye level. "There," he said, touching a faint drawing of sorts, "It appears that it is a rune," Will concluded.

Tessa skittered up to him, their shoulders just barely touching. Tessa had expected him to shy away or tense up, but she no longer gave a care. Though even the slightest touch between them sent shock waves through her body. Jem casually walked over to them, the tapping of his cane on the cobblestone street eerily audible throughout the dark street.

"Are you aware of which rune it is, Will?" asked Jem, who had a curious look about his face.

Shaking his head, Will handed it to Jem, who examined the sharp fragment of glass closely. "I think it may be a rune for foresight," he stated. The bold lines on the rune made the shape of an eye, very much similar to the runes that Will and Jem had on the backs of their hands.

"And that looks like a pathway!" Tessa pointed out. Could it finally be another clue to her heritage?

Will shook his head, a look of disapproval on his face. "No, that is clearly a door." Tessa could tell that he was trying to refrain from speaking her name, holding it back. He no longer welcomed her with a joking smirk and a sarcastic remark, but with a criticizing glare and some insult. She didn't want to think about the details. But did Will truly and deeply no longer have feelings for her?

Just beside her Will swore to himself. How he so desperately wanted to crawl away from Tessa, or to her, perhaps. It somewhat hurt him to say those hurtful things on the widow's walk only several days ago, but he shook it off. Feelings were feelings. And he was a Shadowhunter before anything else. Nevertheless, he felt a stab of pain every time her pushed her away, every time he ignored her, but he had to. A Nephilim and a warlock, together? Rubbish. But every chance he got, whenever Tessa wasn't looking, he'd admire her. Her raw, simplistic beauty, her sense of humor, the way she was so innocent and unaware of the world around her...

"Er... Will? Tessa?" Jem clicked his cane against the ground impatiently, disrupting his friend's train of thought. "Are we to return to the Institute or wait for the rain to come?"

Startled, both Will and Tessa looked to the sky, simultaneously. The once clear sky was clouding up, the gray clouds looking as though they were glowing.

Back in the Institute, the trio was considerably dampened by the rain, which had gone down to a slow drizzle by the time they returned. Like a gentleman, Jem held open the door and ushered Tessa inside with a playful grin, leaving Will scowling outside.

The Institute was a lot more quiet since Thomas and Agatha had died.

Jessamine and Charlotte had volunteered to cook the evening meals, but no one was really doing the maintenance work, considering that Henry was always in his laboratory conducting strange experiments and inventing things and dissecting things, and that Will and Jem were always training or fighting demons or doing whatever it was that boys did. Tessa would have volunteered, but she was no expert when it came to handiwork and fixing things. Sophie had grown much more silent since the deaths of Thomas and Agatha, often keeping to herself and the laundry baskets.