Angels of Light

Parabatai

Jace took his time walking back to Clary's from Park Avenue. He left his motorcycle on the roof of the building and opted to walk instead. He needed time to think.
The cold air felt comforting given that his skin felt like it was on fire. The night had seemed surreal and by the end of everything he was only sure of two things; one, Elizabeth was an angel, and two, there was a war coming--a war that was much bigger than the last one, and the last one had nearly killed them all. He felt like screaming. How come whenever he was just starting to find happiness and start his life, an evil mastermind had to come along and ruin it? Though, evil mastermind probably wasn't the right title for the angel Raziel. It was unbelievable. All of it. The angel that had given them life, the entire reason for their being, was now trying to wipe them off the face of the Earth. The whole idea seemed insane. The angel Raziel draining shadowhunters and faeries of blood, then refilling their corpses with the blood of angels he had killed? Absolutely mental.
Why not just send angels to kill demons and replace us? Why go through all this trouble? Jace had asked Elizabeth. She didn't look at him as she answered, she hardly looked at any of them the whole time she spoke. Jace thought that perhaps she was ashamed to be related to Raziel. He himself knew a thing or two about being ashamed of your sibling (or father).
Because he wants to be able to create them. If he's the one giving them life, then they'll obey his every command. He doesn't want them to be stronger than him; he still wants to be their God. Mortal bodies are still vulnerable to death.
   Twelve hours ago, angels were just legends. Now Jace had just sat down with one and listened to her as she spoke of an oncoming war. He knew his life was weird, but this felt like something else entirely. This was insane. What was Clary going to think? How was he going to tell her? Oh, God, what would she say? The last war had nearly killed Clary. Sometimes she mumbled in her sleep about a boy with green eyes and Jace knew that she was dreaming about her brother. Sebastian's eyes had changed from the demonic soulless black, to the same green as Clary's when he died.
And how was he going to explain having met Elizabeth before but he never told her about it? Though, in his Defense, he had thought it was a dream. A sick, twisted, weird dream.
Jace sighed and kept walking, doing his best to spend the rest of the walk home focusing on the number of steps he took.

4,798.

Clary was still fast asleep when Jace finally got home--he forgot how far Park Avenue was from Brooklyn. Her small body curled into the fetal position in the middle of the bed. She looked so tiny and young. Her face was slack and smooth, and her eyelids fluttered with dreams. Jace sighed, pulling off his jacket and flinging it on the chair that sat at Clary's desk. Looking at her made his heart climb into his throat and his words dissolve in his mouth. How could he tell her about what he'd learnt? It would break her. No it won't, she's small but she's strong, he reminded himself. It was true. Clary was stronger than most people he'd ever known, and she was always so courageous. It's just that--he didn't want her to have to be. He didn't want any of the worlds evil to taint her. He wanted to protect her from the darkness. He knew that he couldn't, but he wanted to at least try. Would not telling her really protect her, though? He asked himself. And as he stared down at Clary Fairchild--her wild red hair curled all around her, her sprinkle of freckles--he decided that for now, not telling her would protect her. There was no sense waking her. He could tell her tomorrow, right? What difference would it make?
Jace stripped down to his boxers and socks and climbed carefully into bed beside Clary, trying not to move her. He contorted his body so that he encircled her where she lay in the middle of the bed. She moved in her sleep to pull herself closer to him. There was a natural draw between the two of them; they always wanted to be closer to each other, even in their subconsciousness. She put her head on his chest, her cool skin against his own warm skin. Like ice and fire. Jace was always burning so brightly, even with the heavenly fire no longer in his veins.