Permission (Clace Fanfiction)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, etc. That honor goes to the wonderful Cassandra Clare.

“Mom, I’m not going to be able to go to sleep.”

“I know, honey. I have the same problem. Luke calms me down, though.” Dang, Clary thought. They’re going to be married in five months.

“Yeah, but Luke can’t calm both of us down. Well, he can, but he probably wouldn’t get any sleep.” All Jocelyn could manage was a small, laugh, more of a “wow” laugh than laughing because it was humorous.

“Just try, Clary, please. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Ok, Mom. See you then.” She felt like she was saying goodbye. She hated goodbyes. Goodbye meant leaving, which meant not being together, which meant someone could be kidnapped, hurt, possessed, etc. Clary had gotten her fair share of all of that crap. She laid in bed, trying to sleep. But sleep stayed stubbornly out of reach, like a child who didn’t want to take their nap.

After what felt like eons (but was probably minutes), she grabbed her sketchbook and drew. Not runes this time. She wanted to create something that wars didn’t depend on, something that wasn’t either a blessing or curse. The door opened a while later, but Clary was too lost in her sketch to notice. She was drawing Simon before either of them knew about the Shadow World. She drew him down to every last detail. She drew the brown of his hair and eyes, his faded t-shirt that said Made in Brooklyn, the ripped knees of his jeans. Silent tears were running down her face by the time she looked up and saw her mom watching her.

“Clary...” Jocelyn’s voice was soft, but Clary couldn’t talk about it now. It had been a month since they had come back from Edom without Simon; it wasn’t enough time. Not yet. Clary needed to sort through her feelings, and she hadn’t made very much progress. Nightmares about Sebastian kept coming, an unrelenting force. Flashbacks of Simon giving up his memories to save them all were the worst of all of the torturing memories.

Clary figured her mind must have decided that if she didn’t sleep she could rein in those thoughts like they were horses, and she could ignore them until the pain wasn’t as bad.

“Try to sleep,” was all her mother said before she left the room. Clary heard her mom’s voice through the walls of the house, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She telling Luke about me, she thought. She was wrong.

Jocelyn couldn’t believe what she was about to do. She scrolled down her contact list until she found “Jace Herondale” and hit the button to call. He picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jace. It’s Jocelyn. Sorry to bother you so late, but...” she trailed off.

“But what?” Jace prompted. He sounded good-natured and happy, but Jocelyn the weight of the past few months’ dragged him down just as much, maybe even more, as everybody else.

“Clary.” She heard his sharp inhale, and hastily added, “She’s fine. She just can’t sleep. And when she does, she wakes up within ten minutes because she couldn’t take the nightmare.”

“But what can I do for her?” The question itself seemed like someone was saying And just how am I supposed to help?, but Jace’s tone of voice, worried and loving, took any possible rudeness out of the question. Jocelyn’s voice dropped down to an octave as low as one Jace’s piano would make. “I wanted to see if you could come and lay with her. If you could sooth her nightmares and help her sleep for once.”

“Yes. Of course I will.”

“But Jace.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want anything other than sleeping going on.” She could practically feel Jace’s smile, radiating like a second sun.

“Of course. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

Clary heard the front door open heard her mom talking to whomever it was. You couldn’t be too safe, though. She reached over to her nightstand and found the runed dagger she kept for emergencies. Someone opened the door and she tensed, ready to spring like a cat if needed.

“Jesus, Clary, its just me.” It was her mom.

“Oh my God. I’m sorry. I can’t calm myself down.”

“Well, I brought someone who I’m pretty can help that.”

“Who?”

“Doesn’t my name pop into your head when you think of someone who can calm you down?” A voice as familiar as her own, feigning hurt. Jace. He was wearing a hoodie and pajama pants. Only Jace could make that look cool. Clary thought. She brought her eyebrows together to show her confusion- and her shock.

“Mom, did you really call Jace? Am I really that bad?”

“Yes, I called him; you haven’t really slept in days. I thought maybe Jace could help that.” Clary took a deep breath, then grabbed her sketchbook and pencils, set them on the table, and scooted over so there was room for both of them on the bed.

“You two know the rules. I hear anything, and this little arrangement won’t happen again. Got it?”

“Yes,” they said in unison.

“Good. Goodnight, you two. Sleep well. Or at all. Just sleep. Okay?”

A sigh. “Okay.”

Jocelyn left the room, leaving Clary and Jace alone. Clary patted the spot next to her. Jace obliged, closing the space between them in a couple of strides. He bent to kiss her, barely a brush of the lips.

“Get in.” Clary ordered, holding up the blankets. He took off his jacket and sat in the bed next to Clary.

“Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t sleep because of nightmares?” he asked. “You had your own problems. Don’t even try telling me you haven’t had one night of interrupted sleep since... everything happened.”

“I have had nightmares,” he admitted. “But clearly, yours are way worse than mine.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You need sleep, and lots of it. And I am going to help you get it.” Clary couldn’t help it; she giggled. “What?”

“Nothing. You just... I feel like it was a few days ago when you told me a bedtime story to help me fall asleep. But now you’re all protective and loving and...”

”And?”

“And it’s weird, thinking of you shut out and recluse now. Now I can read you like a book.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not,” Jace told her jokingly.

“It is,” Clary assured him. “So, how about that sleep you were talking about?”

“I’m ready when you are.” She settled into his chest and his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight. He pulled her down so they were laying instead of sitting. “Goodnight, Clary.”

“Goodnight.”

”You know I love you, right?”

“I know. I love you, too” They fell asleep like that, holding one another as if to keep themselves from drifting apart.