Inside of Me ━ Isabelle Lightwood

XX. TRIAL AND ERROR

Isaac didn't know what to think. He didn't know whether or not to believe that this man before them was Jace's father. Apparently, Jace seemed to think so – but his father was supposed to be dead. He said it himself! "I thought you were dead!" Yet, here he was. Was Isaac supposed to believe that Valentine kept prisoners. No, he was apprehensive, and knew that he could not trust this man – no matter how humble he seemed.

"Dad?" Jace asked, and it looked like he was about to cry. Isaac sniffed the air, smelling the relief that came from Jace and the surprise from Clary. How could they not see? How could they not think like him? Not see a foe disguised as a friend.

No, he sniffed the air again, smelling for Jace's father's emotions, and he smelt something he couldn't put his finger on. It wasn't happiness, relief, or any emotion that Isaac could think a father would have after finding his son after years apart. It was as if he didn't care – or he didn't care enough.

"Son," the man said as he stood up, hugging his son, which Jace returned. They were so happy – they seemed so happy, but Isaac still stood stiff. "I can't believe it."

After letting go of the embrace, the man continued to look at Jace. "Son, you're hurt," he said, "How did you find me?"

"You're dead. Valentine killed you," Jace said, not looking away from his father, "Valentine's...Valentine's here."

"No, Jace. It's me," the man said, reassuring the blond Shadowhunter. "I'm Michael Wayland. I'm Jace's father," a likely story, "Look, I know what Jace told you, but I've been here for ten years. Valentine took off and left me."

"And Jocelyn Fairchild?" Clary asked, hopeful of the answer yet pessimistic, knowing that the answer would not be in her favor.

"He took her with him," Jace answered, deflating Clary's mood, "You two are?"

"I'm Clary, her daughter," the redhead introduced herself, then the man looked at the werewolf.

"Isaac...Isaac Lahey," it was a lie. It was all a lie. He had told a lie his whole life – most of the time without knowledge. He didn't know, he told himself, he didn't know that he wasn't born in Beacon Hills, that Camden Lahey wasn't his father, and his mother never died and his dad didn't lock him in a freezer. No, it was a lie.

But at the same time, how could he tell the truth? How could he tell them that he was Isaac Fairchild – Isaac Morgenstern. He had continued to lie to them, even after finding the truth, because he was selfish. He told Clary that she was, but in truth, Isaac was the one who kept the secret. Isaac was the one who didn't tell her because he was scared of what the response would be. He was the one who kept it from his sister – who let her believe that both her brothers were dead. Just because he didn't want to tell the truth – because he was selfish.

And he knew he was a hypocrite. He knew that telling Clary off for it, even though he knew he was the same, was being hypocritical. But he wished that she would be better, he wished that she wouldn't be like him – or that's what he told himself.

"Meliorn, the Seelie, told me that he was here with her," Clary told him, again hoping that Michael was wrong and Jocelyn was still there.

Then, Jace fell. "Jace, no!" Clary and Michael went to catch him, Isaac only standing where he was. "It's Ravener venom. He kept telling me he was all right."

Jace panted, "We have to find your father, not my father."

"His stele. Where is it?" Michael asked, searching through Jace's pockets, pulling out the tarot card with the Mortal Cup, which Clary was quick to take – and for good reason, Isaac thought.