I'll love you then too. -Clace- shadowhunters, the mortal instruments

-2- heavenly perspective

"Clarissa."
Her eyes fluttered open. A beaming white light enveloped her as she adjusted to the brightness. "Raziel?" Clary called into the pale abyss. "My child." His silky voice sung back to her. He appeared before her, his large frame casting not the faintest shadow, as though he emitted his own light. "What's happening? Why am I here?"

"Let me tell you, child. I have lived longer than any other being. I have seen this world go through so much. I thought I knew all there was to know. When we created shadowhunters, we gave them our blood and our power to execute our will. They were not to go against our will. I believed whole heartedly in every decision I made. Until you."
The angel paused, as though considering his next move. Clary's hands nervously shifted to rest behind her back, but her eyes remained locked on Raziel, as though entranced by his presence.
"I was angry with you for the runes you created. That was not my will. You knew that and you did it anyway. The powers given to you by Itherial's heavenly blood - I had convinced myself that they had corrupted you, given you a sense of superiority. I thought you a selfish child. However, I now see that I was simply threatened by you, for you were a new type of shadowhunter. You proved that emotions do not cloud judgement, they inform it. It is your compassion that makes you so special, Clarissa. "
He paused again, and Clary simply stared. She was afraid to speak. 
"When you ignore my warning and used your ability to kill Jonathan, I was outraged. How - I had thought - could you so blatantly disregard my warning? Your mother begged me not the do what I did, but I saw no other option. I believed your punishment to be just. "
Raziel froze again, this time his eyes drifted away from hers, and she caught a glimpse of something behind his facade. Guilt?
"But now, my child, I see that I was wrong. For this past year I have watched your family and friends mourn a loss that would never truly fade. Each passing day I heard the prayers of the Herondale boy. I heard the cries of a warlock. The soft sobs of a vampire. The pained silence of shadowhunters, their emotions clouded by their better judgment. I saw peace in the shadow world. An earned peace. Fairchild's Peace. Clarissa, I was wrong. You killed your brother, whom you loved so deeply despite his wrong doings. You killed him knowing that you would loose everyone and everything you loved. You hurt the people who loved you the most. And you did it because it was the right thing to do. You lead with your emotions. Any nephillum would be frowned upon for that, but I applaud you. You saw what I could not. The greater good. You used Itherial's gift for good. You should not be punished for creating goodness and peace and happiness. Your punishment is over, Clarissa. You are free."
"I'm free?"
"You're free."
Clary's face shone with joy. "However, Fairchild, do not abuse your gift. Use it wisely. Promise me."
" I promise."
"Then you must go, Clarissa. He's waiting for you."

A soft warmth caressed her. She fought to keep her eyes open; she pleaded with her lips to move. She wished to thank the angel, but when she looked again, he was gone. And then so was she.

———
He hadn't moved for a long time. How long had it been? An hour? A few? Every once in a while a doctor would come in, or Izzy would try to convince him to sleep, but he only sat. And stared. And waited. He waited for her to move. Speak. Anything.
"Come back to me Clary. I love you."
"I love you too."

His head shot up and his eyes met hers again. "Clary?" He whispered so softly it was barely audible. You could hear the vulnerability in his hoarse voice, the gentle crack, the rough depth. It was as though the sound was fighting his lips and the air, begging to be he heard but afraid that someone was listening. She smiled gently at hearing him again. She felt as though she had missed him, longed for him, without ever knowing it. "Jace." She sighed.

Before she knew it Clary was entangled in Jace's warm embrace, never wanting to be let go. She was home. She was free.