Fire for Blood • A Shadowhunters Fanfiction

Chapter 6

Kit just said he loved Ty. In a friendly way, obviously. But he didn't want to believe that it was just as a friend. He didn't want to keep hiding it from Kit. Kit was his best friend, but there was a meeting going on right now. Instead, Ty just sat there with his head on Kit's shoulder and went over everything he liked about him. His hair is adorable when it's messy. He's always kind to me. His eyes are beautiful. He has a good personality. He's magical. Literally. He doesn't care that I'm different. He's a natural shadowhunter. He's always calm. He cares about me. His hands are comforting. His presence makes me happy. Ty smiled, and Kit side-eyed him with a confused look because he couldn't move his head to get a proper look at him. Kit probably thought it was weird. Ty had been crying but was now smiling. "Are my fabulous looks distracting you?" Kit sarcastically asked. Definitely a Herondale. "Y-yes, actually." Ty stammered. He felt Kit's shoulders tense underneath his head. Ty's eyes worriedly darted to Kit's face, which was bright red, and then to the ground. Why did he say that? One point to Ty, who apparently knew how to mess up the simplest things. "Do you w-want to be my parabatai-? I don't want to go to the scholomance anymore." Ty nervously asked. Kit gasped. "Ty, I- I would love to, but I can't. I can't take Livvy's place." He said. "Okay." Ty said, barely disappointed. Kit didn't know what to say. He wasn't good enough for Ty. He never would be. But he could try. Thoughts filled Kit's head, along with an image of a church. It was a large room, with rows upon rows of seats, and maroon walls covered in portraits and what Kit assumed was decorations. The walls had dents in them, and there was a shattered chandelier on the ground. The carpet on the ground was an impossibly dark shade of red, which must've been blood. There were portraits men and women, except they all looked terrified. A cross hanging on the wall was overturned, and there was a red jewel-like object on the ground that was persistently beeping. It was a horrific sight, one Kit definitely wouldn't mind forgetting. "Ty." Kit said. "Yes?" Ty questioned.
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"
"What are you s-seeing?"
"A room."
Kit knew Ty saw it, but some part of him thought he was the only one seeing anything at all. Sometimes Kit wished he was still living a mundane life. Being a Shadowhunter was a prodigious responsibility that he found hard to handle. A mundane life, with his father and mother back, with no Shadow Market, no faeries and no angels. No Blackthorns. No Ty. Everything would be better. Kit could get the sleep he needed, unlike his Shadowhunter life. He didn't even know how to draw a rune yet, and all he had was a Herondale dagger. Maybe Zara was right. Maybe Kit should go to the Shadowhunter Academy. No, Kit thought. That would mean leaving the Blackthorns, the Carstairs and the Rosales. "Talk to me." Kit said, all of a sudden. He felt Ty's head lift off of his shoulder, and an exhausted exhale. "About w-what?" Ty questioned. "Anything." Kit said carelessly. "I like the sound of your voice. It's calming. Reassuring, even."
Kit saw Ty blush and shyly smile. Ty's face changed into a concentrated look, before he looked at the ground. His hands were undoing a tangle of string. "Well, I can tell you about one of my favorite animals.. turtles." Ty said timidly. "They're p-part of a reptile group called Testudines. Turtles are ar-around 200 million years old. A turtle's shell is composed of at least 50 bones. The mundanes th-think that turtles can come out of their shells... but they're wrong. The oldest turtle w-was around 188 years old. Almost half of the species of turtles are endangered. People think all turtles can hide their heads under their shells. Only certain species can. That's... all I know. About turtles." He finished off. Kit smiled. "You're so smart, Ty." He said. Ty blushed, and his fingers worked at the string faster. Kit watched Ty with fascination. It was incredible, how fast his hands could move. Carefully unknotting each string, knowing exactly which know was which. Ty unknotted them from order of colors. "Remember that day you held a knife to my throat?" Kit blurred out, and instantly regretted it. Ty dropped the string, a horrified look pasted on to his face. "Kit, I- I'm so s-sorry- I didn't kn-know...." He said. Kit shook his head. "No, no, I was just asking..." He tried to explain, but Ty had shrunk into the corner of his bed, where he put on his headphones, the music loud enough for Kit to hear it outside of the headphones. Kit got up and slowly walked out of the room. That didn't last long. Kit walked through the bare, chilled corridors of the LA Institute, longing for his mundane life, for his mother and father. He walked towards the hatch in the roof, where he could think, and where he could stare up at the skies. The air smelled of overpowering ocean. Must be high tide, Kit thought. Sometimes he wished he could understand Ty better. He understood Ty was upset, and he would never be able to replace Livvy, but there was something else bothering Ty. His gray, stormy eyes were far too vulnerable. Anyone could see it in the way the ebony-haired boy walked, in the way he talked and in his posture. He was more than upset. Saying Ty was fine wasn't right. It was like saying the sky was purple and made of hedgehogs. Kit didn't know why he had compared it to that, but it popped into his head, and it was a fairly reasonable explanation. Kit laid on his back and stared up at the sky, only thin, opaque clouds floating above.

      All of the many less trusted or unholy downworlders we're slowly filing out of the sanctuary after their meeting with the shadowhunters. Julian was standing by Emma and Helen, the three of them monitoring a debate between a werewolf and a warlock. Emma has caught a few words that sounded like "Dumbledore" and "Jace Herondale" And "He would win." "No, he would win!" Going off of that, Emma made a valid assumption that they were debating rather Dumbledore would win a duel against Jace or not. Of course, that was not possible, because Albus Dumbledore was a fictional character from a popular mundane series Emma believed was called Harry Potter. Helen sighed. "Werewolves. Always think they're right." The sound of footsteps echoed off of the walls, and Luke Graymark said "Of course we are." Which was followed by a charming smile. His light brown hair was neatly styled how Emma assumed most men styled their hair for a meeting. Jace was an exception. His hair couldn't be brushed out, according to Clary. Helen timidly laughed. "Of course, Mr. Graymark."
There was an alarming clack of heels against the ground, and the Seelie Queen walked into the Sanctuary. "Greetings, Fair Queen. What brings you here?" Julian questioned. The Seelie Queen looked pleasingly alarmed, which was an unusual combination of emotion. "I would like to speak with Tiberius Blackthorn and Christopher Herondale." She said, her voice steady with concern, but her face showing little sign of it. "Madam, they just got back, could you possibly give them a rest?" Helen pleaded. The Seelie Queen shook her head, anger clear on her face. "It is of utmost urgency." She said. Helen nodded, looking worried and tired. "If you insist. I will go get the two." Helen said, and walked off to go find Kit and Ty. "Oh, Emma, Julian, how I missed you two." The Seelie Queen said with a false frown. Her blue eyes switched between Emma and Julian, before resting on something behind them. "Clarissa." Then Queen said. Emma turned. Sure enough, Clary was there, a furious look on her face. "How pleasant it is to see you, ma'am." She said. The Seelie Queen laughed. "You have a visitor, Ms. Clarissa. Jonathan Herondale of Thule." The inferno-haired Queen said. Jace walked into the Sanctuary— not Jace, but a different one. His usually bright-gold eyes were green and dead, and his expression showed that he was not impressed. "Clary." He said. Other Jace's blond hair was long, much too long, and it needed cutting. You, Emma wanted to say, but decided not to, because Other Jace wasn't likely to remember her. "No." Clary said. "You're not my Jace. What do you want?"
Other Jace's face transformed to make himself look emotionless, which Emma was sure he didn't mean to do. "I want you, of course." He said.