Clary Morgenstern

Chapter Three: Jocelyn

I hurry through the store, having abandoned my cart a long time ago.
I needed to find him. I check through the store, making sure that they weren't following me.
I find Luke in the clothing section, checking out bootcut jeans and flannel shirts.
He waves as he sees me, but stops short as he eyes my eyes.
"Jocelyn, what's wrong?" Luke asks me, and I glance around to make sure they weren't here.
"I was just in the art section, trying to buy a canvas, and two teenagers came in. The girl started talking about how amazed she was of the art, and I tried not paying attention because they were just teenagers," I say, and take a deep breath, ringing out my hands.
Luke looks at me crazily. "You're scared because they're enthusiastic about art?" he asks slowly, and I glare at him.
"Then the girl said the boy's name, and the boy said the girl's name. Can you guess what their names were?" I ask him.
Confusion crosses his face, before realization enters his eyes. Luke visibly pales, and he nods gravely.
"I just can't guess what they're doing here. I thought the Clave would have killed them long ago," I whisper, and Luke hugs me.
"Maybe...maybe they're not like that. Maybe Valentine died and they grew up like normal Shadowhunters. And it might not be them. It could be two teenagers with the same names," he suggests, and I shake my head frantically.
"No, it's them. The boy was in between broad and lean, and had black eyes and white hair. The girl looked just like me. She was thin and small, with red hair and green eyes. She liked to paint, and the boy just looked at me weirdly. It's them," I tell him, and he hugs me tighter.
Nobody was in the clothing section, and we were in a small aisle where nobody could see us. It was fine.
"Can you find them? Show me them," he demands, and I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
I lead him through the store, trying to find the children u had abandoned long ago. I didn't even know if they were good or evil, but I didn't want to find out.
I was going past the books, when I saw them. They were taking turns playing Call Of Duty in the electronic section.
Luke pats my hand, and walks away before I could stop him. I held my breath, and walked to the next row over, peeking between the holes of the stands.
From what I could see, Luke had just walked into the aisle. Jonathan was playing Call Of Duty now, and he was mercilessly slaughtering both his comrades and enemies.
Clary looked up as Luke walked by, Jonathan not paying attention.
"Excuse me, young lady. My son likes to play Call Of Duty Black Ops. Do you know where I could find it?" Luke asks Clary, and I silently laugh while shaking my head.
Clary looks at the assortment of cases behind her, and her eyes pass over me. Finally, she spots something, and picks it up.
"Here you go. I think that might be it, but I don't play video games," she says apologetically, and I knit my eyebrows together.
In all the years I spent with Valentine, he had never acted like that. He had a certain type of kindness and trustworthiness, but he didn't apologize like that. He wouldn't say sorry unless he was playing you or he just wanted something to be over.
"Never?" Luke asks her, and she shakes her head.
"We couldn't play video games. Our father didn't like them," she said, and something flashes in Luke's eyes.
Clary had been unexpectedly kind. I knew she had angel blood in her, but I had thought that Valentine would have trained her to be like Jonathan.
And Jonathan, who had just realized that Clary was talking to a stranger, strode over, and stood next to Clary.
"May we help you," he asks pleasantly, but I could see through the cover. Eyes like that had no room for genuine kindness, despite the depths of their fathomless pits.
"I was looking for a game for my son. Thank you for helping me find it," Luke says, and holds up the game case.
"You're welcome," Clary says, and Luke nods before walking away.
He goes out of sight, before rounding back and coming into the aisle with me. "Jocelyn, they're just fine-" he whispers, and I cut him off.
"...he was a Downworlder! Clary, Father taught you to spot them out!" Jonathan whisper yells, and Clary looks at him stupidly.
"Who cares if he's a werewolf or not? He didn't do anything wrong, and he was looking for a game for his son. All I did was help out!" Clary responds, and makes a shooting motion with her hand.
Jonathan hesitates, like he was about to say something but caught himself. I knew what he was gonna say. That Valentine didn't care if Downworlders were innocent or not.
"Come on, I'm hungry and I heard that they had restaurants here. Do you know any restaurants we could go to?" He asks her, and she rolls her eyes.
"I'm in the dark about New York as much as you," Clary admits.
They were silent for a few moments, before Clary surprised me.
"Do you think Mom had to go through this? Do you think she would be proud of how far we made it?"
Jonathan looks up at her with blank eyes, and they met her glassy ones.
"She wouldn't be proud of us. If she was proud, then she wouldn't have left," he deadpanned, and I almost let out a sob.
Clary quickly replies. "Yeah, but maybe-"
"Clary!" Jonathan snaps. He was getting impatient. "Saying she left would be heavily sugar coating it. She didn't just leave, she abandoned us because we weren't perfect children. She didn't even try with us! She basically just left us without help! If it weren't for Father, we would be dead!" He whisper yells, and she flinches at his tone.
"Yeah, but if she came back-"
"She's not coming back, Clary! She made it clear that she didn't want us. She probably has a life now, with normals kids that she actually wants. If she wanted us at all, she had sixteen years to come back."
Jonathan walked away after snapping at Clary, and the disdain I felt for him came back in waves now.
Clary wipes her eyes, and trails after Jonathan. When she was out of sight, I sigh and lean my head against the cool metal of the rack.
"Jocelyn, it isn't your fault that Valentine turned your children into monsters. It wasn't your fault," Luke says softly, and sets a hand on my shoulder.
"Yeah, but I could have come back to them. I could have brought them with me. I could have stayed with Valentine and tried to at least make them kind," I reply.
"Then what? Keep watching every one of your children be either demons or angels? To be constantly hunted and unable to fight demons? Something you've lived for. You would be completely and utterly unhappy," Luke whispers, and I give him a sideways glance.
"Do you think I'm a bad person for wishing that they were dead for sixteen years? I know nothing about them. They could have been enslaved and tortured by Valentines enemies dozens of times and I wouldn't have known."
I grimace at the thought, and Luke looks down. "Look, its not your fault what happened. It looks like they're good enough kids. And the chance that they will bother you again in one in a million," he reasons, and I purse my lips.
"But what are they doing here? That's all I want to know. It can't just be a fluke that they're both here, and they're shopping around," I say, and let out a breath.
"Well, Valentine was extremely detached. Maybe he threw them out for life experience. What if they're running away? Jocelyn, there are many many other options of why they're here," Luke tells me, and turns me around, abandoning his stack of clothing.
"Let's just go home and eat something. There is probably a good reason, and they don't even know you. I doubt we'll meet them again," Luke comforts, and I try to not let it show that that was making it worse.
We went back to the basket, where I got food for the week plus my art supplies.
We checked out at the cashier, and continued to roll the basket to the parking lot and down to Luke's truck.
I helped him put the groceries in the bed of the truck, and put a cover over it so they wouldn't blow out.
We got into the cab of the truck, and Luke turned the heater on. I'm surprised it still works, considering that this truck is older than me.
"Alright," I say. "Let's go."