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”You looked great! Are you thinking about doing dance instead of art for college? I bet you could." They were 12 but Simon's mom was super concerned about college and Clary and Simon had already started planning getting an apartment together anyway, excited to have their own adventures without Clary's helicoptering mom and Simon's mom who really liked giving suggestions.
Clary scrunched her face and "I don't really like dance, actually."
"What do you mean? You're one of the best ones there."
Clary shrugged, "I don't like running, but I feel like I'm about to jump out of my skin if I don't do something."
"Okay, so what about a sport?"
"They're all just fancy ways to do mostly running. I've tried like all of them. And if they're not running it’s showing off in little outfits, which I hate." She had always had such a full schedule, and the activity changed so often, Simon had generally stopped asking what she was doing directly after school.
"And by your standards, dance doesn't have little outfits?"
"At least I don't have to preform in the school gym. And cheerleaders seem so shallow. Plus they do like two cool things then cheer from the sidelines."
"Allison is nice!"
At his look she rolled her eyes, "Fine, I'm sure some cheerleaders are nice, but I'm still not interested."
"Gymnastics."
"I tried, my coaches said I had no sense of when moves were beyond my level and what was dangerous, they thought I was going to break my neck, so they asked me to leave."
"Fencing."
"I'm a nerd Simon, not that much of a nerd. Besides, I hate the helmets, you can't see anything. And you have to stay on one line, it's way too restrictive."
"You're not a nerd, but you tried it?"
"Shut up. My mom put me in like everything."
"Martial arts."
"I did a couple of different ones for a few years, but," Clary shrugged, "I don't know, it was boring. Like sparring was okay, but I hit black belt in karate pretty fast and I didn't feel like staying after that. Dance at least has different shows and routines and stuff. And I switch styles whenever I get bored. The studio is chill about it."
"Your the most athletic and least athletic person I've ever met, it's weird. You're weird, Fray."
"I am not."
"You have stick arms and you've never lost an arm wrestle, I'm pretty sure I saw you lift a girl that had 50 pounds on you in that last class."
"That's good technique. Stick arms don't mean noodle arms like yours."
"Hey! My arms are not that noodly! I can haul my keyboard around and everything."
"Barely."
"It'd go faster if you helped, since we've established you have freakish strength."
"I'm not ruining my clothes for your future band, I'm solely the creative director."
"Clary!"
"What?"
"You can't eat that."
"What?" Clary looked down at the old Chinese food in her hand. "I warmed it up."
"It's from like almost two weeks ago, no way you wouldn't get food poisoning. I barely trust that food cart when it's fresh!"
"I eat there all the time Simon, it's fine. And I've never got food poisoning. Maybe you have a sensitive stomach or something."
"Clary, I have a very strong stomach, you're just insane."
"Whatever." Clary scoffed. Her mom ate the same things as her and never said it was weird. It obviously wasn't polite to serve old leftovers to guests, but Simon hardly counted as a guest anyway.
"No seriously, I never brought it up because I thought it was a prank the first couple of times, or a fluke, but you eat things no one should ever eat. You're certifiable. I stand in fear and awe of you. And disgust. I think I'll just wait till I get home." He gave her Chinese food a queasy look and turned back to his band name options, giving Clary the thoughts behind each one while she gave her opinions or ideas on album looks that matched the name.
"No way!"
"Come on, Simon! I need something interesting for my portfolio. A drawing from that view would be amazing."
"That is the one of the worst fire escapes I've ever seen and I'm not even joking."
"I already checked it out yesterday on my way home, it's fine, just avoid the broken parts."
"You already went up there? You could have died!"
"Don't be so dramatic. I'm going." And Clary started climbing, knowing that Simon would follow her. He did, once she was already a 1/3 of the way up, moaning and complaining the whole time.
The view was even more incredible that day, she didn't know why Simon had moved to the middle of the roof and sat down, refusing to come look. She could see everything sitting on the edge, she felt like she could fly. When she made this observation, Simon said sharply, "Don't you dare, we're humans Fray. Wings are not a thing."
She almost argued with him, but stopped herself just in time. Of course humans couldn't have wings, of course she didn't. But the wind kept catching her hair and making her dangling legs sway and she could almost swear she could see the air currents. Like if she jumped into the right stream she would soar instead of falling. She kept that thought to herself though. It wasn't her fault she had a good head for heights. No reason to freak out Simon more.
"Oh over there!"
"Where?"
"Come on! We don't want to loose the spot!" Clary grabbed Simon's hand and dragged him through the crowd to the spot she had seen open on the grass, just big enough for them. The concert was starting in a while and the lawn was filling up fast.
Simon was complaining behind her that he still didn't see what she was talking about even though he was taller than her and Clary sighed. Being best friends with someone who was practically blind even in glasses was hard.
The spot was there, just like she said it would be. Their blanket to sit on while waiting fit perfectly.
Clary was definitely going crazy. Like institutionalize her now. Maybe art school would let her earn credit from a padded room. At least drawing the insane things she was was interesting.
Two days from her 18th birthday and the weird flashes she had been seeing—horns or inhuman eyes or one time she swore she saw fangs—had escalated. Some of it she could shrug off as interesting body modifications. She was in New York after all. But the young attractive woman standing 50 feet away who had been an older graying man a few seconds ago was not the kind of thing that could just be brushed off.
He-she-it? made eye contact with her and every instinct in her body told her to get away. Okay, half of her instincts told her to go punch it, but she wasn't that stupid. Mostly.
She made it home in one piece, and she was so freaked out her mom forced her to sit down and tell her. Clary found it pouring out, all the weird things she had seen lately, and they had all been outside the house too so it couldn't even be black mold. If that was how that worked.
Instead of calling her crazy, or bringing up her overactive imagination like she had her whole life when Clary started confusing make believe with real life, her mom seemed to collapse.
"There's something I need to tell you, Clary. I should have told you sooner, but I wanted to give you time. I wanted to give you a life."
"Mom, what are you talking about?"
"Clary, I'm so sorry. I've been lying to you. Our name isn't Fray, it's Fairchild. And by blood and right we belong to a society of others like us. We aren't mundanes Clary, we're not normal, we're not even really human. We are a people designed to fight demons."
"Okay mom, enough with the cult stuff."
Her mom didn't break, or backtrack, or do anything beyond giving her a weak smile. "It's not much of a cult, generally." She stood up to get her decorative pen that had never worked from the cup by her easel. Whenever Clary asked about it she was told it was a lucky charm. She hadn't thought much about it. But she could see it wasn't actually a pen now, she wasn't sure why it was different.
When her mom burned a mark onto her arm without flinching, Clary stood up. And when other faded marks appeared, symbols she had never seen but felt like she was a second away from reading, Clary sat back down, all the fight gone out of her for the moment.
Her mom had a lot to explain.
And it turned out she had a lot to learn.
Dropping dance was almost more of a relief than knowing that she wasn't crazy.
Sparring with real swords and dangerous weapons was so much better. It was terrible to be so bad at something compared to Lightwoods who were teaching her (something was going on with their last names, only Alec was actually a Lightwood but also his sister was definitely blood related and they treated their brother Jace like he was a part of the family but he looked nothing like them. Also Jace seemed to have like three last names but no one would explain it to her) but the energy burning under her skin was finally burned out at the end of the day. Which made it worth it.
Most people were welcoming if wary when she showed up at the Institute, alone. Her mother had confessed that she was basically a war criminal so she couldn't return to the shadowworld, but she sent Clary in with her own steele, a packed bag, and a ring proving her right to the Fairchild line. Clary wanted to stay in New York so she could possibly see her mom again when they calmed down about her 'sneaking out' but her mom had thought she would get sent to the Academy.
She hadn't been. Apparently they didn't trust her not to burn down the Academy or something. And they kept asking where her mother was, which was the only thing Clary refused to tell them.
She hadn't told them she was a Fairchild at first, with everything her mom had told her about Valentine, she figured she should maybe keep it under wraps even though he was a Morgenstern. Her mom told her to be honest, but Alec, who was apparently in charge even though he couldn't be more than 25, really didn't seem to trust her.
Everyone had accepted that her mom had sent her to the Institute at her demand as an adult, even though it had been more the other way around. Her mom had told her she wouldn't last long without training anymore, and Clary believed that faster than everything else. She had never seen her mom so scared.
She claimed her mom had left the shadowworld of her own volition, which was mostly true, but that her mom supported her coming back. Apparently it happened just enough to not be crazy.
Everything had gone fine, until Izzy had made her a welcome dinner a week into her training. Clary was flattered Izzy wanted to be her friend and dug in. It wasn't great, probably wasn't even good by most standards, but it was a meal cooked because of her and Clary was happy to eat it. She had made worse food.
Alec and Jace joined them, looking wary, but not at her which was a first for Alec at least. Clary was surprised they looked a little green after trying the food actually.
Izzy even looked nauseous after trying a bite. "Sorry guys, I'm not sure what happened, maybe some of the ingredients are off." She grabbed each of their plates but stopped in shock at Clary's plate which was half gone. Training had been hard! She was starving!
"What?" She asked defensively when all three looked at her. "It wasn't that bad."
Jace scoffed, "Yeah it was. Like worse than usual."
Alec was looking at her, calculating something in his mind. "What line did you come from?"
"Uh, Fray? You mean like last name, right?" People seemed to use the words synonymously, even though Clary knew what he was really asking.
"No. Your line. What were your parents' lines?"
"Uh, I don't know, my mom never told me."
Alec's face hardened, "That was a lie. I can throw you out of here, to face the demons alone, if I think you're a danger to my people. So tell me the truth." Jace tried to advocate for her, but Alec didn't budge.
So Clary confessed everything, and had to show the ring as proof. She was now known as the last scion of the Fairchilds. She was also called Valentine's daughter a lot, which sucked. At least he was dead and her mom had already known from a few downworld contacts keeping her informed.
People didn't' trust her, not really. But she wasn't thrown out, just watched. Once Alec forgave her for the lie, he decided to push her even more, claiming she could be better. She hated that he was right.
Six months of brutal training, runeless, and Clary finally had her own rune ceremony. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, but when she turned into a kite rather than an eagle like her father, everyone relaxed. Even her. She never wanted to be anything like him.
She was finally allowed to go home sometimes, flying made it easy as long as she was careful not to be followed. The secret lasted about 5 minutes with Simon who looked more vindicated than surprised that all the times he had called her weird he had been right.
Another six months and she was allowed to take oaths to the Clave and finally stopped being hovered over on patrols, mostly. She also finally got to introduce Jace and Izzy to her mom and Simon. Alec also got dragged along sometimes, and he didn't like Simon but he didn't threaten her mom with the Guard, so she took it as a win.
Another year, when she was 20, she became Head of the Fairchild family and started her campaign to get her mother at least pardoned enough to not be arrested.
Jace proposed the day after her Investiture, which was romantic. There had been some drama in the middle but they handled it, and now the Herondales and Fairchilds were ready to join the Lightwoods and Truebloods in shaking things up. The four of them (plus Magnus and the New York Institute) were more than enough to take the Clave and Shadowworld on. Alec had already completely changed so much, but backup was always good in fighting demons, or bureaucrats.