Fragile Hearts (TID - Will Herondale fanfic)

Chapter 9: Not The London Hospital

Will couldn't take it anymore.

  "This isn't the London Hospital. Tessa's brother shouldn't be here!" Will said his voice raised to a shout. "He's not a Downworlder, just a stupid, venal mundane who found himself mixed up in something he couldn't manage—"

  Charlotte replied, "He can't be treated by mundane doctors. Not for what's wrong with him. Be reasonable, Will."

  "He already knows about Downworld." The voice was Jem's: calm, logical. "In fact, he may know quite a bit of important information that we don't know. Mortmain claimed Nathaniel was working for de Quincey; he might have information about de Quincey's plans, the automatons, the whole Magister business—all of it. De Quincey wanted him dead, after all. Perhaps it was because he knew something he shouldn't."

  There was a long silence. Then, "We can call in the Silent Brothers again, then," said Will. "They can claw through his mind, see what they find. We needn't wait for him to wake up."

  "You know that sort of process is delicate with mundanes," protested Charlotte. "Brother Enoch has already said that the fever has driven Mr. Gray into hallucinations. It's impossible for him to sort through what in the boy's mind is the truth and what is feverish delirium. Not without damaging his mind, possibly permanently."

  "I doubt it was that much of a mind to begin with." Will made sure that his tone of disgust was evident.

  "You know nothing about the man." Jem spoke in a cold voice that he had rarely ever heard him speak in before. "I can't imagine what's driving this mood of yours, Will, but it does you no credit."

  "I know what it is," Charlotte said.

  "You do?" Will was appalled. Does she know what happened in the attic? But no. She couldn't possibly.

  "You're as upset as I am about how last night went. We had only two fatalities, true, but de Quincey's escape doesn't reflect well on us. It was my plan. I pushed it on the Enclave, and now they will blame me for anything that went wrong. Not to mention that Camille has had to go into hiding since we've no idea where de Quincey is, and by now he probably has a blood price on her head. And Magnus Bane, of course, is furious with us that Camille has vanished. So our best informant and our best warlock are lost to us at the moment."

  "But we did stop de Quincey from murdering Tessa's brother and who knows how many more mundanes," Jem said. "That should count for something. Benedict Lightwood didn't want to believe in de Quincey's betrayal at first; now he has no choice. He knows you were right."

  "That," said Charlotte, "is likely only going to make him angrier."

  "Perhaps," said Will. "And perhaps if you hadn't insisted on tying the success of my plan to the functionality of one of Henry's ridiculous inventions, we wouldn't be having this conversation now. You can dance around it all you like, but the reason everything went wrong last night is because the Phosphor didn't work. Nothing Henry invents ever works. If you'd just admit your husband's a useless fool, we'd all be a lot better off."

  "Will." Jem's voice held cold fury.

  "No. James, don't." Charlotte's voice shook; there was a thump, as she sat herself down very suddenly in a chair. "Will," she said, "Henry is a good, kind man and he loves you."

  "Don't be maudlin, Charlotte." Will's voice held only scorn.

  "He's known you since you were a boy. He cares for you like you were his own younger brother. As do I. All I've ever done is love you, Will—"

  "Yes," said Will, "and I wish you wouldn't."

  Charlotte made a pained noise, like a kicked puppy. "I know you don't mean that."