Inside of Me ━ Isabelle Lightwood

XII. SAVIOR

         The drive to Magnus' didn't take long. Maybe it did, it could've taken hours to drive to the lair, conversations could have arisen and people could have died and Isaac wouldn't have known. His attention went to Luke, his friend, his ally, and his teacher. Even though he hadn't known the other werewolf long, he had become Isaac's friend, and the young werewolf loved him like a father.

         Soon, they had reached the lair and knocked on the door. Magnus came to the door as Luke groaned. "What happened?" the warlock asked.

         "He was attacked!" Simon exclaimed, being a little over the top about the whole situation. Isaac would have taken the time to roll his eyes if one of his friends wasn't dying.

         "He needs a warlock," Clary said, a pleading look in her eyes. She panted at the weight of the unconscious werewolf, even though Isaac was holding much more weight than her. "He needs you."

         Luke groaned again and Magnus pointed to the couch, "Put him here."

         Just then, Luke muttered, "Where are you?"

         The younger werewolf didn't understand. He was almost sure that something was going on in his unconscious state, but he wasn't sure, and there was no way to find out.

         "Luke..." Clary's tone was of sadness and guilt, knowing that she was the reason that he was on the couch, dying from the venom of an alpha.

         "I can't find you," Luke said again, his eyes opened slightly but it was like he couldn't see anything.

         Clary shushed him and Isaac went over to his friend's body, holding his hand and taking away his pain. Isaac watched as the veins of his hand became black and how Clary looked at him in shock as to what he was doing. The curly haired werewolf continued to take away his pain, watching as the older werewolf relaxed, until the blackness in his veins went to his neck, letting go and breathing again.

         "What – what are you doing? Keep doing whatever that was! It helped!" Clary yelled at him, tears brimming in her eyes.

         "I – I can't," Isaac said, taking rest in the seat he was in.

         "No, no, no! You have to!" Clary continued to yell at him, only thinking of Luke's health and not her brother's.

         "I can't, Clary!" he yelled back at her, "If I do, it'll kill me! I can't help him anymore!"

         Isaac watched the place that Magnus had left them, not wanting to talk to Clary anymore. He was guilty for how he spoke to his sister, but in that time, he couldn't think of another way to say it. And apologizing wasn't something he wanted to do, Isaac had said he was sorry too much in the past years and he didn't want to say it again.

         "Jocelyn!" Luke panted, putting his hand on Clary's face, "Jocelyn..."

         "No, Luke, it's Clary." She said, her attention turning from Isaac, "Can you hear me?"

         "Clary, listen to me. Listen...you have to listen to me," Luke told Clary, "I have to tell you, just in case..."

         "No, don't even say it, don't." Clary shook her head, tears in her eyes. Clary was pure, innocent, compared to Isaac. She had never really seen death, never looked into its eyes or danced around with it before, but Isaac had.

         He had seen it when Allison died, again with Aiden. Danced with it when he was electrocuted and left in a coma, looking as if he was dying. Isaac knew death, it was his friend, even if they didn't always get along.