Beyond Repair

10. Tears

|Clary POV|

My hand shakes as I grasp the door handle to twist it open. The door opens slowly, and I slowly step in.

I sob quietly with a sharp intake of air when I see all of Max's toys and books carefully placed on his bookshelf, and his bed neatly made. He always was the neatest of the Lightwoods. He must've learned from Jace.

Though everything is where it belongs, placed neatly and carefully, it lacks it's normal positivity and happiness. I walk around the room, picking up Max's copy of the Shadowhunter's Codex as I pass by, and pull it to my chest. I take a step back, tripping when my heels hit the side of his bed.

"Oh, please! Please tell me why you had to take Max. He was so innocent. He didn't have anything to do with it," I plead, looking up at the ceiling. Tears cloud my vision as I try to soak in the image of Max's vacant room.

"Clary?"

I hear the voice, and turn to see the owner, but my vision is still unclear from my tears. Without looking, though, I still recognize the voice. I know that voice. I love that voice.

"Simon," I whisper.

"Dammit, Clary. You've only been here half a day! How're you crying like that already?" Simon mutters, pulling me towards him. I lean into his embrace, feeling the safety and comfort that Simon has been ensuring for me since I was barely able to walk.

"How? How could he be taken away from his family so quickly? He just wanted to be a God damned Shadowhunter! Why couldn't he just have been okay?" I sob into Simon's shoulder.

"I don't know, Fray. I wish I did. But I don't. All we can do is remember Max, and what he was for us. To you, he was like a little brother. To me, well, he was kind of there for me when Jace wasn't too keen on me," Simon says, rubbing my back.

I laugh a shaky laugh and look up into his face. "I'm sorry I left, Simon. I missed you so much," I say, trying to put every ounce of sincerity in me into the sentence.

"Yeah. I'd hope so. That makes me feel better," Simon mutters.

"I don't get it," I whisper, my voice tired from all the sobbing.

"Well, I missed you so damned much, so that makes me feel less weird for missing you. Knowing that you missed me, I mean," Simon answered.

"Awwww. You're such a softie," I say, nudging him with my arm.

"Am not!" he argues.

"Right," I say, rolling my eyes.

"I'm not," he insists.

"Whatever you say," I scoff, but smile at him widely.

"You better go, Clary," Simon says.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you have some people to talk to tonight. Get going," Simon says cheekily. He tries to be stern, but I catch a glimpse of pride in his eyes. He's freaking proud of himself because he can read my facial expressions.

"I saw that, Lewis. Get over yourself," I say, laughing.

Simon rolls his eyes just like me. "Just go."

I pop up to my feet and bring my hand up to my forehead in a salute. "Sir, yes, sir!"

"Shut up," he calls, as I walk out of Max's room.

"Never!" I reply, sashaying out of the room.