Lady Midnight (After the Iratze)

Sick

"But why can't you get in touch with Magnus?" Emma whined into her iPhone, combing clammy fingers through her disheveled mess of blonde hair.

In addition to feeling cold and nauseous, at the moment Emma felt confused. She knew that her friend Clary Herondale and the other Shadowhunters of the New York Institute were on particularly good terms with the High Warlock of Brooklyn. He happened to be engaged to Alec Lightwood, who was Clary's husband's parabatai. She found it hard to believe that it would be so difficult for them to contact him.

"He's in Rio, with Alec," Clary explained.

"Ok, so what? They still have their phones, right? The internet exists in Rio, too, you know." She could hear the exasperation in her voice, but she couldn't help it. She just felt so awful, and she knew that if anyone could make her feel better it would be Magnus Bane.

"Um, well... no actually." The other girl's voice held a note of trepidation. "See, we summoned him back here just this past Saturday to fix some ribs Jace had broken in a fight with some rogue werewolves..."

That sounds like Jace, Emma thought, wondering idly whether or not the werewolves had been part of a pack.

"He got a little annoyed," Clary continued. "...said something about Herondales being fussy and always summoning their friends to fix them, even when they would heal perfectly fine on their own. Then he dropped his phone on the floor, stomped on it, and made himself a portal back to Rio." She sounded apologetic. "I think the intended message is that he wants to spend some uninterrupted time with Alec, for once."

"Ugh. Yeah, ok," she said. "I'll heal fine on my own too, I guess. It just would've been nice to have him speed up the process. Thanks anyway, Clary."

"Sorry I couldn't be more help. Hope you feel better soon, Em."

"Thanks, see ya."

"Bye."

The phone beeped, signaling the end of the call. Emma leaned back against her headboard and closed her eyes. She was so dizzy, but closing her eyes helped to keep the room from spinning.

I knew it was a bad idea to go on patrol with Julian. It had been the evening after she'd tried to talk to him on the roof. That conversation had not gone well. He had told her he wished he didn't have a parabatai and then stormed off, destroying a piece of his own artwork in the process. When she realized they were scheduled together for patrol duty, she'd thought about asking Cristina to trade shifts with her. But maybe some part of her had been hoping that she and Julian would resolve things that night, because she'd ended up going with him.

They had not resolved things. In fact, they had not communicated at all, which was why Emma had ended up with a demon stinger embedded into her leg. It hadn't hurt too badly on the way home, but by the middle of the night she had been in excruciating pain. They had called the Silent Brothers, who had said there was nothing to do but let the poison run its course and burn itself out. Iratzes were not very useful, but she kept drawing them on herself anyway. She had just picked up her stele from the bedside table when there was a knock at her door.

"Hi, I brought you some food."

She looked toward the doorway, half-hoping to see Julian there, but it was a different Blackthorn boy.

"Thanks, Mark." She forced a smile onto her face. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy seeing him. It was just painful that Julian hadn't even come to check on her in the past thirty-six hours that she'd been sick.

Mark walked in with a tray of apples and saltine crackers, the only things she had managed to keep down over the past day and a half. He set it down on her lap, and sat next to her on the side of her bed.

"You feeling any better?" he asked gently.

"Not really, I've been puking all day, but thanks for asking." She gave a weak but genuine smile.

Frowning slightly, he lifted his hand and leaned forward to place it on her forehead. "Still feeling warm," he muttered.

This side of Mark was familiar. He seemed almost normal to her now, taking care of her as he had once done for all the younger Blackthorn children. Only Jules and I aren't younger anymore. He still looked sixteen, just as he had when the Wild Hunt had taken him. She and Jules were seventeen now. It was strange to look at the boy she had once seen as unattainable and now see a peer, an equal. Mark's hand was still on her forehead, his concerned eyes searching to meet hers. She found she was blushing in spite of herself.

"What are you doing?" A voice came from the doorway. Julian's voice.

Emma and Mark both turned their faces to look at him. His gaze was locked on the hand his brother had just had up against her forehead. His eyes were wide and his cheeks flushed with color.

"I was just checking in on Emma," Mark said in a measured voice.

"I can do that. I'm her parabatai." Julian strode into the room, making an attempt at bravado, but really just looking awkward.

"Ok, bye then." Mark flashed a quick smile at her before rising from the bed and slipping past Julian out the door, leaving them alone together.

Silence hung like a thick curtain in the air between them. They hadn't been alone since the patrol. Emma gulped, trying to think of something to say, but it was hard to think of something cute when she felt like she could vomit at any second. In the end, he spoke first.

"Sorry about the sting... It's my fault." He looked down at his feet.

"Yeah, it is your fault." She knew she sounded mean, but he hadn't been willing to communicate so it was totally his fault.

He looked up at her and, to her surprise, laughed.

"At least you tell it like it is, Emma." His eyes were creased at the corners with laugh lines. She realized she hadn't seen him laugh in a while; not since Mark had come back, anyway. It was good to see a smile on his face again, and to know she had put it there.  She smiled involuntarily in return.

"So, are you talking to me again?" Her tone was teasing, and as she spoke she picked up a pillow and threw it at him. He caught it and threw it back in her face.

"Yes, I am. Sorry for being so..." His voice trained off.

"Moody? Idiotic? Full of teenage angst?" She smirked. Just a few suggestions.

Julian reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, a habit of his when he was embarrassed. "Yeah, all of those things," he said sheepishly. "I just don't know what to do anymore or how to act around you... We have to figure out-"

"I know we have to figure it out, Jules," she cut him off. "But can we please not do that right now? I'm sick and I just want you with me. We've always been there for each other and I've missed you. I just... I kind of need you right now." She felt her cheeks growing warm, but she didn't mind being vulnerable like this in front of Julian. It was all true.

Any traces of hesitancy vanished from his face as he moved toward her, climbing into bed next to her. Without speaking, they rearranged their bodies to lie in the position that had been theirs since before Emma could remember. Julian lay on his back and lifted his left arm while she rolled into him, laying her head on his chest. Bringing his arm back down, he encircled her shoulders, resting his hand on the curve of her left hip. Her right arm was tucked in between her chest and his side while her left hand rested on the thin black t-shirt covering the tightly muscled cords of his abs. Finally she crossed her left knee over his, so that her foot was between his legs. It was the most comforting place in the world for Emma to be. In Julian's embrace she felt safe and whole. She nestled into him and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"Thank you," she said, finally relaxing and feeling better than she had since being stung. "For being here."

"Always," he whispered as she closed her eyes and drifted into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

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A/N: shout out to applepinegirl , bloodandguts , and Grim_Reaper12 . Thanks for being my most loyal readers! I sooooo appreciate the votes and comments :) <3