The Institute, New York, Monday
"Okay," said Isabelle, putting away the first aid kit with a brisk gesture. They were in one of the Institute's many spare rooms, meant to house visiting Clave members. Each was plainly furnished with a bed, a dresser and a wardrobe, and a small bathroom. And, of course, each one had a first aid kit, with bandages, poultices, and even spare steles included. "You're pretty well iratze'd up, but it's going to take a little while for some of those bruises to fade. And these --" She ran her hand over the burn marks on Clary's forearm where the demon blood had splashed her. "-- probably won't go away totally till tomorrow. If you rest, they'll heal faster, though."
And maybe that way Isabelle wouldn't have to come bail her ass from Hydra demons again, like she had today. But guess that was okay. She'd been getting a little bored, anyway. Dead Shadowhunters kept turning up and there'd been nothing much for her to do but stay around.
"That's fine. Thanks, Isabelle." Clary looked down at her hands; there were bandages around the right one, and her shirt was still torn and bloodstained, though Isabelle's runes had healed the cuts beneath. "And thanks for showing up and, you know, saving my life from whatever that was -"
"A Hydra demon. I told you. They have a lot of heads, but they're pretty dumb. And you weren't doing such a bad job with it before I showed up. I like what you did with the athame. Good thinking under pressure. That's as much a part of being a Shadowhunter as learning how to punch holes in things." Isabelle flopped down onto the bed next to Clary and sighed. "I should probably go look up what I can find out about the Church of Talto before the Conclave gets back. Maybe it'll help us figure out what's going on. The hospital stuff, the babies --" She shuddered. "I don't like it."
That was an understatement. Clary had been at a church when Isabelle had found her. A church with an altar covered with photographs that seemed to indicate experiments had been performed on a pregnant woman. And Clary had told her about a demon baby at the hospital, and she'd felt sick when Clary had described the way the baby had looked exactly like a normal baby except for its open black eyes and the little claws it had instead of hands.
"I think they were trying to make another baby like - like my brother. I think they experimented on some poor mundane woman," Clary said. "But she couldn't take it when the baby was born, and she lost her mind. It's just - who would do something like that? One of Valentine's followers? The ones who never got caught, maybe trying to carry on what he was doing?"
"Maybe," Isabelle replied, chewing on her lip. "Or just some demon-worshipping cult. There are plenty of them. Although I can't imagine why anyone would want to make more creatures like Sebastian." Her voice gave a little jump of hatred when she said his name.
"His name's really Jonathan -"
"Jonathan is Jace's name," said Isabelle tightly. "Jonathan is Flick's name. I won't call that monster by the same name my brother and my boyfriend have. He's always going to be Sebastian to me." She drew a breath and forced her voice to be calmer and lighter. "Anyway, I'm glad you texted me when you did. I could tell from your message that something weird was going on, and frankly I was bored. Everyone's off doing some secret thing with the Conclave."
"You could've gon back to Fandom," Clary suggested, but Isabelle shook her head. "Didn't feel like doing that," she said. "Flick is... I don't know, things just weren't the way I wanted them to be, to go back."
"Maybe," Clary said quietly, "you should do it and make things how you want them to be." Isabelle looked at her, and Clary flushed. "Sorry. Your relationship is really none of my business."
Isabelle was twisting her dark hair up into a knot, something she did when she felt tense. "No, it isn't. I mean, I could ask you why you texted me to come to the church and meet you, and not Jace, but I haven't. I'm not stupid. I know something's wrong between you two, passionate alley make-out sessions notwithstanding." She looked keenly at Clary.
"Have the two of you slept together yet?"
Clary flushed more. "What - I mean, no, we haven't, but I don't see what that has to do with anything."
"It doesn't," said Isabelle, patting her knotted hair into place. "That was just prurient curiosity. What's holding you back?"
"Isabelle --" Clary pulled up her legs, wrapped her arms around her knees, and sighed. "Nothing. We were just taking our time. I've never -- you know."
"Jace has," said Isabelle. "I mean, I assume he has. I don't know for sure. But if you ever need anything..." She let the sentence hang in the air
"Need anything?"
"Protection. You know. So you can be careful," Isabelle said. She sounded as practical as if she were talking about extra buttons. "You'd think the Angel would have been foresighted enough to give us a birth-control rune, but no dice."
"Of course I'd be careful," Clary spluttered, feeling her cheeks turn red. "Enough. This is awkward."
"This is girl talk," said Isabelle. "You just think it's awkward because you've spent your whole life with Simon as your only friend. And you can't talk to him about Jace. That would be awkward."
"And Jace really hasn't said anything to you? About what's bothering him?" Clary said, in a small voice. "You promise?"
"He didn't have to," Isabelle said. "The way you've been acting, and with Jace going around looking like someone just died, it's not like I wouldn't notice something was wrong. You should have come to talk to me sooner."
"Is he at least all right?" Clary asked very quietly.
Isabelle stood up from the bed and looked down at her. "No," she said. "He is very much not all right. Are you?"
Clary shook her head.
"I didn't think so," Isabelle said. And you know what? She wasn't either. But she'd deal with that some other way. Like maybe with a phonecall. She walked out of the room.
[ooc: NFB, OOC-okay! Taken with editing from Cassandra Clare's City of Fallen Angels.]
And maybe that way Isabelle wouldn't have to come bail her ass from Hydra demons again, like she had today. But guess that was okay. She'd been getting a little bored, anyway. Dead Shadowhunters kept turning up and there'd been nothing much for her to do but stay around.
"That's fine. Thanks, Isabelle." Clary looked down at her hands; there were bandages around the right one, and her shirt was still torn and bloodstained, though Isabelle's runes had healed the cuts beneath. "And thanks for showing up and, you know, saving my life from whatever that was -"
"A Hydra demon. I told you. They have a lot of heads, but they're pretty dumb. And you weren't doing such a bad job with it before I showed up. I like what you did with the athame. Good thinking under pressure. That's as much a part of being a Shadowhunter as learning how to punch holes in things." Isabelle flopped down onto the bed next to Clary and sighed. "I should probably go look up what I can find out about the Church of Talto before the Conclave gets back. Maybe it'll help us figure out what's going on. The hospital stuff, the babies --" She shuddered. "I don't like it."
That was an understatement. Clary had been at a church when Isabelle had found her. A church with an altar covered with photographs that seemed to indicate experiments had been performed on a pregnant woman. And Clary had told her about a demon baby at the hospital, and she'd felt sick when Clary had described the way the baby had looked exactly like a normal baby except for its open black eyes and the little claws it had instead of hands.
"I think they were trying to make another baby like - like my brother. I think they experimented on some poor mundane woman," Clary said. "But she couldn't take it when the baby was born, and she lost her mind. It's just - who would do something like that? One of Valentine's followers? The ones who never got caught, maybe trying to carry on what he was doing?"
"Maybe," Isabelle replied, chewing on her lip. "Or just some demon-worshipping cult. There are plenty of them. Although I can't imagine why anyone would want to make more creatures like Sebastian." Her voice gave a little jump of hatred when she said his name.
"His name's really Jonathan -"
"Jonathan is Jace's name," said Isabelle tightly. "Jonathan is Flick's name. I won't call that monster by the same name my brother and my boyfriend have. He's always going to be Sebastian to me." She drew a breath and forced her voice to be calmer and lighter. "Anyway, I'm glad you texted me when you did. I could tell from your message that something weird was going on, and frankly I was bored. Everyone's off doing some secret thing with the Conclave."
"You could've gon back to Fandom," Clary suggested, but Isabelle shook her head. "Didn't feel like doing that," she said. "Flick is... I don't know, things just weren't the way I wanted them to be, to go back."
"Maybe," Clary said quietly, "you should do it and make things how you want them to be." Isabelle looked at her, and Clary flushed. "Sorry. Your relationship is really none of my business."
Isabelle was twisting her dark hair up into a knot, something she did when she felt tense. "No, it isn't. I mean, I could ask you why you texted me to come to the church and meet you, and not Jace, but I haven't. I'm not stupid. I know something's wrong between you two, passionate alley make-out sessions notwithstanding." She looked keenly at Clary.
"Have the two of you slept together yet?"
Clary flushed more. "What - I mean, no, we haven't, but I don't see what that has to do with anything."
"It doesn't," said Isabelle, patting her knotted hair into place. "That was just prurient curiosity. What's holding you back?"
"Isabelle --" Clary pulled up her legs, wrapped her arms around her knees, and sighed. "Nothing. We were just taking our time. I've never -- you know."
"Jace has," said Isabelle. "I mean, I assume he has. I don't know for sure. But if you ever need anything..." She let the sentence hang in the air
"Need anything?"
"Protection. You know. So you can be careful," Isabelle said. She sounded as practical as if she were talking about extra buttons. "You'd think the Angel would have been foresighted enough to give us a birth-control rune, but no dice."
"Of course I'd be careful," Clary spluttered, feeling her cheeks turn red. "Enough. This is awkward."
"This is girl talk," said Isabelle. "You just think it's awkward because you've spent your whole life with Simon as your only friend. And you can't talk to him about Jace. That would be awkward."
"And Jace really hasn't said anything to you? About what's bothering him?" Clary said, in a small voice. "You promise?"
"He didn't have to," Isabelle said. "The way you've been acting, and with Jace going around looking like someone just died, it's not like I wouldn't notice something was wrong. You should have come to talk to me sooner."
"Is he at least all right?" Clary asked very quietly.
Isabelle stood up from the bed and looked down at her. "No," she said. "He is very much not all right. Are you?"
Clary shook her head.
"I didn't think so," Isabelle said. And you know what? She wasn't either. But she'd deal with that some other way. Like maybe with a phonecall. She walked out of the room.
[ooc: NFB, OOC-okay! Taken with editing from Cassandra Clare's City of Fallen Angels.]