Not Another Fairchild *Jace Wayland Love Story* [1]

Mirror Meetings

Warning: This chapter may be a tad hard to follow but please bear with me. Also, apologies for any spelling mistakes and grammatical errors.

Lizzy groaned awake, her head killing her, and her stomach roiling. Her hair was stuck to her cheek from where she had been drooling in her sleep and the rest was knotted and frizzy. She was just thankful that the light in the room was dim as she cracked open and eye. The other eye followed shortly after and she blinked a few times before the room finally came into focus.

"Ugh, what happened?" she muttered into her pillow, not expecting a reply and startling violently when she got one.

"You consumed enough alcohol to get three large men drunk," Simon said from where he was sitting on a plush chair in the corner; having come in to check on Lizzy when it became clear that her sister was avoiding her.

"Si? Where's Raphael?" Lizzy questioned and she turned to face her friend, throwing her arms over her eyes and moaning pitifully when her head protested the movement.

"We escaped, Liz," Simon told her simply. "Well, we were technically rescued," he elaborated, scratching his cheek before crossing his arms over his chest.

"Technically?"

"How are you feeling?" Simon asked, Lizzy's eyes narrowing at how he dodged her question and wouldn't meet her eyes. She let it go, however, in favour of answer his question.

"Like a heard of Hippogriff decided to have a party on my head," she complained, as she looked around for a moment, not really registering anything. "Where are we?" she continued, her eyes landing on a change of clothes that were obviously Izzy's. "How'd I get back to the Institute?" she asked, preying Blondie hadn't carried her back. Once was embarrassing enough, she'd never live it down if he had to do it again.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Simon asked.

"Laughing with you about Vampires being jerks. I think I fell asleep and then I woke up here," Lizzy answered, frowning when she couldn't seem to remember anything else. Not that she was surprised with the amount of alcohol. She was never drinking that much again.

At the thought of Alcohol, her stomach roiled violently. "I think I'm gonna-" Lizzy didn't finish her sentence and she sprung from the bed and ran into the ensuite bathroom, her hand thrown over her mouth and the other resting on her stomach.

She managed to research the toilet moments before she fell to her knees and threw up. She felt Simon move her hair from her face and hold it out of her way for her as he rubbed her back. It wasn't the first time Simon had had to help her with something like this but it wasn't a regular occurrence either. When Lizzy drank enough to get drunk – which wasn't as often as you might be thinking – and she didn't want to go home and risk her mothers' anger, she'd call Simon. He'd let her sleep it off at his place and then help her with her hang-over when she woke up.