Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The blood on my teeth begins to taste like a poem, like religion, like the way you look at me.
Sean Glatch, from 'Caffeine, Pt. 1'.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄
𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖

__________________________

Beams of the setting sun filter through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over the cluttered room. The window is cracked open, allowing the sounds of the busy New York streets to serve as background noise while he works. The warm breath of summer seep into his room, carrying in the sweet scent of the magnolia tree that stood in front of his window, the ivory blossoms gently swaying in the wind. It reminded Roman of the time he was young, sitting beneath a magnolia tree at Central Park, seeking refuge from the intense heat and a sanctuary for his weathered soul. People were walking around, children were playing with glee, all basking under the solar radiance. They looked like moving color blocks from where he sat on the bench. Far away, isolated. 

New York felt terrible in the summer back then. It was unpleasant in general, with smoke tendrils and noisy creatures around every corner that irritated him. It felt wrong, not like home. Home was in Idris, in that hidden land. Home was at that manor that he can barely remember, the walls painted a gentle gold with orange and peace roses covering its walls. It looked so beautiful under the sun's aureate glow. The New York Institute in its ancient gothic glory felt so foreign, like a confinement for him. With too many eyes glaring at him, filled with anger. Roman supposed it would be worse in Idris. But New York was so big, so unfamiliar and he was so young. By the Angel, it hurt so much. 

He felt suffocated, unable to escape this storm he inadvertently created. His emotions ebbed and flowed like the tides, leaving him submerged in the dark inky waters, the cold water grazing his lungs raw. That sinking feeling of emptiness held him down, leaving him alone and battered. Things were a bit better now, the waters weren't as freezing or turbulent like when he was 12 but still, Roman tried not to think about that time, knowing that those wounds still remained fresh. The skin only barely stitching itself back together.

The smell of turpentine and smoke clung to the room as Roman worked silently. Dipping his brush into the vibrant collection of paints, his mind swirled with images as he tried to depict the array of emotions onto the canvas. She was a recent addition to his hauntings. Roman didn't know who she was or where she came from but every time his head touched his pillow, visions of her would infiltrate his mind. Her features were elusive, it was always this animated blend but he could figure out something from the glimpses he got. He blended hues of jade and moss to portray the color of her eyes, reminiscent of summer leaves. Green was one of his favorite colors, but recently, it filled him with unease.

He was deep in his work, the soft cherry flesh of his lips pulled between his sharp teeth when his phone chimed. The paintbrush froze mid-air as his face twisted into a frown. He didn't like getting disturbed when he was in the zone. Sighing, he traded his bruised lips for the wooden handle of the brush, the slight taste of paint transferring to his tongue. He grabbed the phone, his eyes widening at the notification. Be down in 10, we leave soon. 

"Shit. Fuck. Oh no. Oh no." Roman groaned, dragging out the last 'no' as he scrambled up from his chair, the brush abandoned on the ground. He haphazardly screwed the caps of his paint tubes, throwing the brushes into the jars. He did not want to be the target of the Lightwood boy's anger today. Rushing to his closet, he sorted through the clothes, looking for a suitable shirt to help him blend in with the scene for today's mission. He wasn't the distraction tonight so, nothing too flashy. 

He exchanged his t-shirt for a smooth satin black shirt, its fabric clinging to his torso as he buttoned it up. The chains he pinned to his belt dangle gracefully, the silvery hue bold against the dark fabric of his pants as it cast subtle reflections in the dim room. His eyes flicker to the delicate chain wrapped around his neck, a ring suspended from it. The stars carved into it glint in the faint light, a symbol of his tarnished heritage. He tucked it beneath his shirt, the silver brushed against his skin with a cool burn, a reminder of his burdensome past.

Roman looked back towards the lone painting in the corner of his room, vibrant green eyes that held a mystery that he couldn't decipher, looking back at him. Shaking his at head the feeling of fleeting whispers of discomfort, he turned the lights off and slammed the door of his bedroom shut. Running his fingers through the wild mess of soft curls, he tried to make them look effortlessly beautiful as Izzy said it gave him a 'sexy-laid back look.'

The New York Institute had been his home for the longest time. Its towering stone walls with history embedded between the cracks, made you feel so small. That you are just a minuscule organism amongst the many others that are littered throughout the vast building. The corridors wind and twist like a labyrinth with ancient tapestries and portraits lined against gilded frames. Depictions of the rich history of the children of Nephilim, accounts of battles along with overseers of the building were portrayed on the wall, the current ones being the Lightwood family. 

His boots padded against the wooden floors as he nodded in respect to his fellow soldiers who passed him by. Roman reminded himself to be grateful that they nodded back to him, knowing some would rather spit in his face. He stopped in his tracks before an open door, peeking inside to see the young girl standing in front of a full-length mirror, comparing the two wigs in her hand. Midnight silk cascaded down her back, her eyes of molten ebony that gleamed with mischief and brilliance, complementing the playful grin on her crimson lips. Her presence held an air of elegance that made her both intimidating and admirable.

"The platinum one." He commented causing her to look up in the mirror, to find the boy leaning against the doorframe. "Goes with the rest of your outfit. You look good, Izzy." He said, glancing at her attire, a white latex top and a matching short skirt.

"I know." The raven-haired girl replied with a graceful lilt to her tone before giving him a look over. "So do you plan on distracting the demons with your 'artist-chic' tonight?"

She quipped, gesturing to the paint that stained his hands. He looked down, eyes widening in realization when he spotted the colorful smudges. He quickly rushed to the girl's bathroom as a chuckle echoed behind him. 

"What can I say, demons dig artists." He said while rubbing the floral soap vigorously onto his palms under the cold water to get the pigment out, watching it travel down the sink in a harmless whirlpool.

"Noted...You look good but I wish you went with that black lace shirt of yours, the one with floral patterns." The girl commented with a disappointed frown. Compared to the rest of her brothers, his style had a bit more effort and finesse to it, his wardrobe lined with an assortment of cashmere, lace and satin fabrics mixed in with leather jackets and t-shirts in a range of deep beautiful shades. She credited his artistic eye for his collection. 

He patted his hands with the soft yellow towel before turning back to her. "I love that shirt but I'm not playing the distraction tonight, you are." 

"And I make a damn good one."

The boy let out a warm laugh, nodding his head in agreement. The girl was known for her charms for a reason. "Besides, demons prefer blondes but..."

She eyed the boy's dark hair that fell in disarray across his forehead, a stark contrast to his pale skin that bore black markings that stretched over the expanse of his body. It tinged a feeling of sympathy within her, knowing that box dyes had been his form of protection over the past few years. In his words, the lesser the resemblance, the better. She was about to reply before she saw a tall figure approaching them from her peripheral view. 

"Isabelle, Roman, let's go."

Both their heads shot up at the call of their names and the boy's lips quirked up in humor at the bored tone of the command. "I don't know," his attention turned back to the girl. "You could still rock this." She said, holding up the synthetic wig in her hands, platinum hair shaped into a bob with bangs. 

Roman smiled brightly at her words, a hand waving in the air with a flourish. "Oh, I would look fabulous." The girl shook her head in amusement as the two left the room, falling in stride. 

"Hey there, big bro." Isabelle greeted him with a smile as Roman followed her closely, his eyes traveling to the man waiting for them, his statuesque frame holding an aura of strength and authority. Clad in classic Shadowhunter gear, the black fabric donned on him matched his rugged look and his piercing gaze that held this intensity, making it a challenge for most to maintain eye contact, even Roman. Yet for him, it wasn't the impenetrable wall of stoicism lacing Alec's eyes that unsettled him. He was glad for the raven-hued hair that fell over the man's forehead, the tendrils acting like curtains to obscure his gaze, offering a fleeting respite from its overwhelming pull. 

His eyes calculating and melancholic in a way, making him feel like he was on display. Roman managed to hold his gaze for two more seconds before he had to look away, his loose shirt suddenly feeling constricting. It was a paradoxical exchange, a delicate dance between the discomfort of being seen and the longing for recognition. Such is the consequence when two souls who have known each other for so long, lock gazes. Where the carefully constructed facades crumble under the weight of mere seconds of eye contact. And maybe that's why Alec Lightwood also hated holding Roman's gaze for too long, merely nodding at him before swiftly redirecting his attention toward at his sister, noticing the wig in her hands. 

"Really?" He snarked as the three began walking towards the Ops Center. 

"What can I say? Demons dig blondes." Isabelle stated, brushing her fingers through the wig as her brother chuckled, shaking his head. 

"Of course they do, but that's white." He pointed out making Roman immediately scrunch his face to an incredulous look. The wig in question was platinum with a silver tone, so it wasn't pure white. 

"Do you need a class on identifying color shades? I'm sure there are some children's books for that." Roman retorted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Alec looked at him, the annoyance in his features clear as day. "It's white."

The brunette raised an eyebrow, challenging the Lightwood for his statement. "Are you the artist or am I, Alexander?" Despite the lack of any menace behind his words, there was a confidence present that spoke volumes without needing further explanation. His voice had dipped lower, emphasizing the warmth in it, like velvet dipped in honey. It managed to throw Alec off balance for a moment as an unsteady feeling settled deep in his bones, a crack in his usual stoic facade. 

"Yeah, it's platinum. And they don't exactly like Shakespeare, okay, Alec?" Isabelle interjected, backing Roman up. Alec looked away from the brunette as he registered his sister's words. Realizing the futility of the situation, he rolled his eyes ignoring the funny feeling creeping up his body. "Whatever." He responded, glancing at Roman before turning to his sister. "You're plenty distracting on your own."

"So, be yourself. Is that what you're trying to say?" The girl retorted as Roman watched them with an amused smirk. Not much had changed from when they were kids. Alec let out a resigned sigh, knowing there was no point in continuing the debate. "Never mind. Looking good, let's go."

The trio walked down the marble steps, entering the Ops Center that was buzzing with life. One thing that fascinated Roman deeply about the Institute was the juxtaposition between the past and the present. Ornate stained glass windows that cast ethereal patterns on the marble floors when met with sunlight surrounded the room. Vaulted ceilings that were carved with the utmost precision, soared high above as slender marble columns held up the foundation of history. As they moved to the heart of the ops center, Roman was surrounded by sleek monitors that reflected real-time information and surveillance from all over New York City. They were surrounded by their fellow warriors who worked tirelessly, the glows of the digital displays illuminating their determined faces. Tradition converged with innovation and while it could be jarring, it deeply enamored Roman. 

"We're ready, Jace." Isabelle announced as the blond in question looked up from the monitors, a smirk gracing his lips when he saw the wig in her hands. "Nice choice, Izzy. Demons dig blondes."

Roman rolled his eyes at the obvious compliment that the boy shot himself. "Yeah cause your golden hair is gonna distract them from killing us." 

"Hey just trying to maximize our chances of survival here." Jace replied, amusement twinkling in his amber eyes. He clapped his hand against Roman's shoulder, leaning his weight onto him. "Besides, demons are much more about this radiant glow than your synthetic brown."

With a scoff, the brunette stepped forward, the unexpected movement catching Jace off guard and causing him to lose his balance and stumble. With a faux glare, the blond hit his arm in annoyance, eliciting a delighted laugh from Roman despite the assault. 

"Can you two focus, we have a mission to complete." Alec's rough voice cuts in, sending a harsh look at the two. "Besides, it's platinum."

Roman raised an eyebrow in amusement, glad to know that he won his debate with the Lightwood while Jace glanced at the wig in confusion. "Isn't that the same thing?" 

"No?" The brunette said, his tone rising. There was a clear difference between the two in his trained eyes. 

"Pretty sure it's the same thing." 

Roman looked away from the blond and towards the raven-haired girl with a look that screamed, 'Are you seeing this?', knowing that she is the only one who would understand him. 

"There is an obvious difference." 

"No, there isn't."

"How can you not see it? Blonde and platinum are two different things." 

"Oh, what's the big difference? They're all just a different yellow in the end." 

Roman eyes widened comically at the statement, making him snatch the wig from Isabelle's hands and practically shove it into the Wayland boy's face. "Where do you see yellow in this?!" 

"How is that not blonde?!" 

Alec looked away from two bickering boys in exasperation and towards his sister who was watching the entire thing in amusement, laughter barely sealed between her lips. By the Angel, the night had only started.

"Platinum is like what poets described moonlight-kissed hair to be. It has that silver luminous glow, void of any warmth." The boy explained passionately before his lips curled in distaste as he waved his hand at Jace's hair. "Blonde is this...haystack."

"Haystack?!" The Wayland boy cried in outrage, not caring about the looks that the other soldiers in the room sent them. "Platinum is some fucking moonlight-kissed shit but my hair is haystack?!"

"I mean, it has the consistency of it." Roman replied, rubbing the hair strands between his fingers.

"I know you with your extra crispy synthetic brown hair aren't talking, Morgenstern." For a moment, the atmosphere around them tensed and Roman could feel the whispers of the malevolent haunting in the shape of his lineage loom over him once again, just like he does, each time someone reminds him where he's from. But it goes away, just as quickly as it comes, "Looking like the time Izzy tried to fry bacon and you're calling my hair haystack." 

A shocked gasp caught their attention as the girl looked at the boy she considered her brother, her family, with a deep betrayal in her eyes. "Hey, that was a good attempt. Roman said so." She protested, turning to him, her eyes wide and bubbling with hope. "Right, Rome?" 

The brunette snapped from the momentary trance in the crevices of his wrangled mind, blinking rapidly at the girl. The girl might have been known for her charms but she was not known for her cooking. And that was for a reason. 

"Of course, Izzy. It was a great attempt." His voice was not convincing in the slightest but the girl paid no attention to it as her crimson lips twisted to a satisfied smile. The man forced himself to not remember the taste of the bacon as it touched his tongue by the loving force of Lightwood girl and how the charred disappointment left a deeply bitter and regretful aftertaste lingering on his tongue. 

The blond boy shot him a look of disbelief at his blatant lie, being present there when the man tried those eggs, the attempt was definitely not great as evident by Roman's unsuccessful look that tried to convey that the dish was definitely palatable. The memory made Jace shudder in horror and Alec couldn't help but share the reaction with his parabatai, recalling his sister's...creations. He also couldn't help how his ears turned his ears red as their fellow colleagues kept sending them judgemental glares due to the incessant bickering, making him realize just how much time they wasted over stupid debates. 

"Okay, are you all done?" Alec demanded, his voice deep and resonant, holding no room for objection. "We've wasted enough time."

"Yeah cause Roman decided to badger on about colors." Jace replied, his tone still bitter at the older boy's comment about his hair. The man in question, only threw him an unimpressed look but decided not to say anything, already feeling irritation seeping in for spending such a long time on trivial matters. 

"All right, guys, for some reason our demon friends are killing mundanes and draining their blood." Jace explained as he started moving towards the training room, prompting the others to follow. 

Alec threw him a confused look. "Why do they want blood? Isn't that vampire territory?"

"I don't know, Alec. Lazy vampires, maybe?" The blond joked, shrugging his shoulders.

Roman's brows furrowed in thought as the quartet made their way towards the weapons shelf. "Doesn't make sense with their nature." 

"There must be something special about their blood." Isabelle theorized as Alec rolled his eyes, quick to shut her down. "What could be special about mundane blood?" He asked, his disdain for the species quite prominent in his tone.

Isabelle looked blankly at her older brother as Jace opened the compartment, the display with the blades sliding out smoothly. "You get me a sample and I'll tell you exactly what they're looking for."

He pulled out four seraph blades from the rack, handing them out. "We'll have more answers when we figure out exactly who the demons are working for." He pointed out as Roman's fingers curled around the hilt with a frown, the object feeling foreign in his fingers. He much preferred his daggers over seraph blades but they would do. 

"So, you don't think they're acting on their own?" Isabelle asked as Jace shook his head. Shapeshifters aren't exactly smart enough to work on their own so there had to be another party involved. 

"They're not exactly creative thinkers, they're shapeshifters." Alec commented causing the corners of Roman's lips to twist up. They went back into the Ops Center, the blond leading them to a set of computers. 

"This is what our target looks like." He informed them, pointing at the picture of a man on the screen. Isabelle sighed, trying to memorize the face, knowing it wouldn't be the same for long. "For now."

The deep tension between Roman's forehead increased as he stared at the screen. "It means we have to get an eye on him as soon as possible. Before he can shift into someone else." 

He commented as Alec nodded in agreement. "Great. I'll get approval for the mission." The brunette looked at the man beside him knowing that it was the right decision but they also had to take into account, the short time span they had. 

"Come on, Alec. By the time you've sent that message, we'll have killed six demons." Jace smirked at his parabatai, strapping his seraph blade against his waist. 

"Besides, it's more fun to break the rules than to follow them." Isabelle added, the glee in her voice evident. Her brother looked towards Roman, knowing that he would be in his corner and he was right. The brunette was looking back at him, both of them knowing they were on the same page. They did not want to get in trouble with the Clave just because they couldn't spare some time, especially Roman. Knowing that one wrong move was just another tally against him. 

"We can't go on unsanctioned missions, the Clave will have our neck." Roman replied, his voice deep in insistence. You could barely pick out the whispers of desperation in it. Jace leaned forward, one of his eyebrows raising in response. 

"You mean your neck. You're worried about yourself." He said, the corner of his lips pulling up in a half-smile at the dirty look that the older boy threw him. Jace was right, all of them knew it but Isabelle still threw him a warning look. "You know they won't kill you for going on one mission. You've been doing this for years." 

"Approved missions." Roman corrected him. "And you'd be surprised, Imogen Herondale is willing to hold anything she can get her hands onto over my head." 

"Besides, going against the rules will bring all of us trouble." Alec added, backing him up. Isabelle hummed, shooting Roman a gentle look. "Okay it's not a good idea but we're dealing with shape-shifters here."

"It's still not a good idea."

"Come on, Rome." She pushed. "Time is precious and I'm sure the Clave will understand that. We need to look at our cards here."

Roman stared at the younger girl with pensiveness, hating that she was right. Hating finding reason in her words. He preferred to stick by the rules. He was forced to stick by the rules. But he needed to be sensible here. He looked back at Alec, a silent apology in his eyes as he said, "Okay, fine. We'll go now."

He got excited responses from the younger ones in the group as they started moving towards the entrance of the Institute. "That's the spirit." Jace cheered.

Alec kept glaring at the man, ignoring his sheepish look. "You're supposed to be on my side. I expected you to agree with me here." He hissed as they followed the other two. Roman leaned close, "I know!" He began. "But it's the best option for now!"

The raven-haired man pressed his lips in a thin line, throwing a dirty look at him. Roman wanted to laugh at the sight. "Look, we get in trouble supposedly, yeah?" His voice lowered to a whisper, "We just blame them." He pointed at the Isabelle and Jace. 

"We tell the higher-ups that we tried our best. We really did, we're the oldest after all. But those rebelling teenagers have a mind of their own and are all fuck authority." His lips began lifting in a smile as he watched the Lightwood boy's stern look slowly dissolve, amusement bleeding in. "We just throw them under the bus."

Alec tried desperately to not let his lips twitch at the delighted look that the brunette ha as he told him his plan, knowing that despite his words, both of them would put the blame on themselves if they were all to get punished. He shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "You're an idiot." He mumbled as they made their way down the stone steps. Roman said nothing but a chuckle slipped from his lips, a gentle siren song. A deep cadence that was soft in nature, like the rumble of thunder across the vast expanse of the sky. Alec felt the need to turn away from the sight.

The plan was clear, the job was to perfectly execute it so that they manage to get their answers. The red glow of the club's sign called to everyone, luring them in. Pandemonium, glowed brightly high up as the mass of bodies lined outside, waiting to enter the well-known establishment. Roman couldn't help but smirk as the neon sign flickered, the rest of the word disappearing as demon stayed lit for a moment, before shifting back to the whole word. The underlying meaning that was unknown to most amused him. 

His eyes caught the sight of a familiar woman in a purple dress making him turn to Jace, both of them sharing a knowing look. This was who their target shifted into. He started walking through the crowd of partygoers with determination in his stride as he kept her eyes trained on her. He was close to the entrance of the club, Izzy and Alec, in front of him when he faltered, noticing Jace missing. He looked around, sighing when he saw the blond talking to a girl. "Jace!" He called out loudly causing him to look back before turning to the girl. He said something to her that Roman couldn't decipher before the blonde started running towards the club. 

He raised his eyebrows at the questioning look Roman shot him. "She could see me. She had the Sight." He mumbled to him causing his eyebrows to furrow. A mundane had the Sight? He couldn't reply as when they entered the club, they were immediately hit with a wave of sensory overload.

Roman wasn't particular fond of the club scene but he appreciated the relief it brought him. Every single one of his senses were drowned by the constant motion running through the club, vitality oozing from the place. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat. The music was deafening, washing over the crowd like a tidal wave. They made their way through the bodies that danced with reckless abandon, columns of dry-ice smoke casting a foggy haze over the room. It felt like an acid trip to a fairyland with neon lights dancing across the room, painting it in hues of blues, reds and greens. The influx of energy and the overwhelming sounds and smells made Roman's head spin. 

He kept his eyes on the woman as they followed her, maneuvering across the mass of swirling bodies. They watched her slip into a back room before following her into it. Roman and Alec disappeared into the shadows as Jace signaled Izzy to start her distraction. She stepped up on a table, pulling the platinum wig off as her long hair fell down her back. She began moving seductively to the music, the demons in the room gravitating to her deadly allure. Jace approached the demon they'd been following all night, slipping his hand around her waist and leaning close to her ear. "I hear you've been pedaling mundane blood." 

"Why? Are you looking to score?" She responded, her voice smooth and seductive. 

"I'm not. But you're gonna tell me who is."

She turned around, her eyes narrowing and features stern. "Well, you're outnumbered here." She said, the sultry tone of her voice dropping. Roman pulled his sword out from where he hid, mumbling the Angel's name as the blade became active, emitting a shimmering aura of celestial light.

Jace smirked at her response. "Oh, I like our odds." He pulled out his seraph blade, the crystal dagger glowing brightly, ready to be used. "Last chance."
However, the team failed to notice the outsider who had slipped into the room and was watching the scene unfold silently, until now as she noticed the blade in Jace's hands.

"Watch out!" A shrill scream pierced the air, catching Roman's attention as he spun towards the source. A girl ran forward, pushing the demon away from Jace.

"Who the fuck-" Roman cursed as the girl alerted all the demons, suddenly making them aware of what was happening. The distractions and the suspense ended abruptly as everything descended into chaos. Jace pushed the girl out of the way as she slid across the floor before turning towards the shifter who moved to attack him, driving his sword through the creature, swirls of black smoke emitting around the hilt before erupting in embers. Roman lunged into battle, his blade slicing through the attacking demons. Isabelle's whip crackled through the air, grabbing a hold of one of them, capturing it in its painful embrace before throwing it towards the brunette's direction, his seraph blade driving through it. 

Amidst the frenzy, Roman spotted a demon charging towards the girl who was watching the fight in horror, his instincts kicking in as he grabbed her just in time before the demon could touch her. A grunt left his lips as he felt the demon attack his shoulder, latching its nails onto the skin and clawing through the flesh, blood splattering. He pushed the girl away, harshly ordering her to stay back as a shocked gasp left her lips. He gripped the blade tighter than before as the demon pushed Roman down but the brunette quickly got back up, kicking it away with brute force. Before he could attack, the creature already disintegrated, the embers flickering away to reveal Alec's face. He looked at Roman's shoulder with a tense look, the gash was deep, the raw flesh visible through his torn shirt.  

He couldn't get a chance to inquire about his condition as more demons came their way. The two moved in tandem as they cut through the swarm, moving in skilled precision, years of training evident as they killed the demons one by one. 

The Shadowhunters moved rapidly, slowly taking down the demons that came their way, embedding their blades deep into them as the flock slowly began thinning out. Roman could feel the demon venom burning his shoulder, cursing that miserable ugly thing for getting his dominant arm as the constant movement added to his injury. He was losing his equilibrium, his body growing sluggish but he kept pushing through. He flinched when a demon came to his peripheral out of nowhere, immediately getting slain by Isabelle who shot the man a concerned look. He nodded in thanks while Jace and Alec tag-teamed the last demon, moving in synchrony as they ended it. 

Roman's eyes scanned the room, breathing a sigh of relief as there were no more traces of the creatures. His eyebrows furrowed as he didn't see the vibrant red hair of the intruder anymore. The mundane vanished. He couldn't focus on her for too long though, his shoulder throbbed with pain as the demon venom coursed through his veins. His knees buckled as he clutched the wound. "Rome!" He heard Izzy shout, the voice sounding distant. 

The brunette felt someone grasp him, his arm getting pulled by the person causing him to look at them with vexed eyes at the added pain. He met the apologetic eyes of Alec Lightwood, feeling his grip softening as the man pulled his stele out. Isabelle tore his ruined shirt further, giving her brother clear access to the area as Roman let himself slump against Alec's chest, his consciousness flickering in and out. Alec felt Roman's body grow heavier as his arm held him up, tracing the luminous tip of the stele against the wound, leaving shimmering golden energy in its wake as he etches the intricate pattern, an iratze. The rune shortly begins to take its effect, slowly healing Roman's wound. Alec sighed in relief, his eyes scanning the man's pale face who had slipped into unconsciousness. Isabelle brushed her fingers through Roman's hair, glad that he was okay. 

Jace relaxed, his tension ebbing away seeing that everyone was safe now. "Okay, take him home. I'll see you there." 

"Where are you going?" Izzy questioned as she shared a puzzled look with her brother. 

Jace met their gazes with determination in his eyes. "To check on that mundane," he replied firmly, his mind already racing with questions. Who was she, and how did she did she see them? Why did the seraph blade light up when she grabbed it? He needed answers, and he wasn't about to let this mundane slip away without figuring it out.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎
𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘 𝐍𝐎𝐖?

__________________________

Sweat trickled down Roman's forehead as his eyes were screwed shut, murmurs and pleas spilling from his mouth like a prayer. Images flashed painfully in his mind like bursting lightbulbs. They circled him in a never-ending nightmare. 

He saw flashes of a golden chalice that oozed an aura of seraphic lustre but before he could even graze it, it was snatched and thrusted high into the air. His eyes widened in horror as grotesque demons emerged from the dark abyss. As Roman recoils in fear, a chilling voice stops his heart like the last hit of a drum. I'll find you, Romulus. We'll be reunited soon, your fate is calling to you. The familiarity that danced in that unknown voice made him want to cry. He could somehow feel the malice and the gentleness in it all at the same time. Then, a sudden shift to warmth, sunlight kissing his skin. A woman, with gentle features and hair cascading around her like a living inferno. A baby girl cradled in her arms and a young boy at her feet, both carrying the same fiery hair and another boy with pale moonlight hair clutching onto the woman's dress. The boy looked directly at him and his breath hitched at the sight of familiar eyes, emerald and gold. He felt his own eyes glaze with tears as the woman looked at him, curiosity bubbling in her green eyes. Suddenly the scene shifted and those green eyes were now cold, vacant of life. Protests spilled from his lips as the scene ripped away from him, slipping through his fingers like sand as the nightmare disappeared. No. No, she can't be, she can't be gone from him again. Where did she go? Where did the babies go? Someone look for the baby, it's all alone.

It was dark now but he could feel the glow of light on his closed eyelids, illuminated silhouettes moving in a haze. He slowly opened them, immediately flinching at the harsh fluorescents. He felt like his vision was being impaled in sharp bouts, the pain travelling to his brain. He blinked slowly, clenching and unclenching his fingers to drive feeling back into his limbs. He was met with the sight of a gorgeous mural, portrayed with soft and tranquil hues inspired by the Rocco style. Cherubs perched on soft wisps of cotton candy clouds as they peered down. It was one of Roman's favorite parts about the Institute and judging by the hard mattress he felt against his body, he was in the Infirmary. 

Painfully he tried sitting up, groaning at the dull ache on his shoulder. He glanced at the flesh, glad to see the wound closed and replaced with a fading rune. Roman also noted that he was changed into a black tank top, figuring his ruined shirt had been burned for precaution. He ignored the tug at his heartstrings as he thought of his beloved shirt, it was one of his favorites. He also ignored the remnants of his painful nightmare but the trembling of his hands never left. 

"You're awake!" A relieved voice called out as he turned towards the source, seeing Isabelle bound down the entrance, her heels echoing through the huge room. She was carrying a ceramic pitcher and two cups in her hand that she placed on the nightstand beside his bed. "I got you some tea." 

Roman froze, a feeling that he could only describe as impending doom settling his gut as he watched Isabelle pour steaming liquid into the cup. "You made me tea." He uttered, the gratitude quivering in his tone. Is it too late to pretend to fall back asleep? 

"Well, I didn't. Hodge did. He said to give it to you both when you woke up." 

The man's immense relief of knowing that his tutor was the one who made this and not Isabelle clouded his brain as he failed to pick up her saying, both. Roman accepted the cup with a thank you, the rich liquid coating his mouth with a buttery aftertaste as he chugged it. Hodge's tisanes were a lifesaver. 

The raven-haired girl furrowed her eyebrows as she noticed the slight tremor in Roman's hands and the light sheen covering his body. His complexion had a ghostly pale appearance too. He looked sicker than earlier. "Are you okay?" She asked as she put the back of her hand against his forehead, not feeling any warmth but clamminess. 

"Yeah, of course I am." He replied, feeling a discomfort in him at the sight of her concern. 

"You don't look okay."

"You know how it is, Iz. After effects of demon attacks and whatnot." He brushed it off, placing the cup back on the nightstand and not meeting her eyes. Her frown only deepened at his words. Roman had been a part of Isabelle's life from the beginning but they used to move on parallel paths, rarely ever intersecting. 

She used to believe her parents about him but she couldn't see the prophecy written for him by the adults as she grew up. Not when he was such a gifted boy with the saddest eyes she had ever seen. Even in that stark distance between him and the Lightwoods when they were children, he was always kind to her. And he still continues to be kind and Isabelle still can't help but try to make him her friend. She likes to think that she succeeded.

But Roman was still distant. He would complain about how his body was failing him again with another cold or how he ran out of white paint for the third time that month but it was just little details she knew about him. There was still so much that Isabelle didn't know about him. Like why his enchanting eyes are filled with such anguish, almost always present when he wakes up. She wonders what haunts him that much. 

However, she pushes it aside, knowing that he won't budge. Instead, her face lit up as she stared at him with wide eyes. That only means one thing, Isabelle has information to share with him. Interesting information. "So much happened while you were passed out." Life travelled back into his body, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. Now, Roman wasn't a nosy man. People's business is their own business. But he also couldn't deny that it was fun to learn about others' business. 

"Jace brought back that mundane from the Pandemonium. Here. In the Institute." When Roman says he likes the occasional gossip, he means stuff like when there were rumors that renowned bachelor of Idris, Connell Hightower apparently has fathered illegitimate children that he never provided any support for. Roman still remembers the fire that started especially cause the rumors came out when Hightower was engaged to someone else. What Roman doesn't like is that blond dumbass breaking the rules. Again.

"Jace did what?!" He exclaimed, his voice reverberating through the Infirmary. "He brought a mundane? Mundanes aren't allowed in the Institute." 

Isabelle stared at him pensively. "He said a Ravener attacked her at her house. So he brought her back." She gestured towards one of the beds, drawing Roman's attention to the figure occupying it. He didn't even notice her. 

"Is she dead?"  

"No, but she isn't showing any signs of waking up yet. We all think she'll die in her sleep." She replied in an equally dry tone as they eyed the unmoving red lump under the white sheets.

"Fun." The man responded, getting up from the bed with a groan as he stretched his tired limbs. He sauntered over to the unconscious girl, Isabelle following in tow. "Do we know anything about her?" 

"Jace said her name's Clary Fray." She replied, gracefully sitting down on the mattress beside her. Roman observed Clary with a frown. She was mumbling incoherent things, clutching the purple necklace around her neck in her tight fist.

"She looks awfully normal for someone with demon poison in her veins." He noted. He expected to see the streams of translucent blue veins crawling up her skin, carrying poisoned blood toward her heart but she looked fairly fine. There was a pallid hue present that drained out all the color from her cheeks but she should've been more miserable. "She looks too healthy."

Isabelle only raised an eyebrow at him, staring at him with a mix of confusion and amusement. "She's healing well?" She offered as the man kept staring at the redhead with a tense look. 

"Too well." 

"She's still knocked out."

"Yeah, but shouldn't there have been more reactions." He said, waving his fingers with a flourish. The girl responded with a chuckle but she couldn't deny the feeling in her gut. From what she could see, the mundane was healing fast. Roman was right. Too fast. 

She looked back at the unconscious girl, curiosity bubbling within her. Clary was cute, for a mundane but nothing too special. She leaned forward, moving some of her fiery hair out of her face. Isabelle couldn't help still, noticing the fading mark located on the unconscious girl's neck. 

"What?" Roman inquired noticing how the raven-haired girl was frozen. He watched as she gulped loudly before turning to him with an apprehensive look. She said nothing but removed more of Clary's hair, exposing her neck. His eyes widened as he saw the mendelin rune traced on her flesh. 

"Guess we have our answer." Isabelle said, her voice tight. Roman didn't reply to her, instead, he began marching towards the entrance of the Infirmary.

"Jace!" He bellowed out and he was pretty sure he could be heard from the entire Institute. "Jace Wayland! I swear to the fucking Angel I will kill you." 

"Hey, watch the language." The raven-haired girl reprimanded as he shot her a brief apologetic look. Luckily for him, Jace was already approaching the Infirmary when he heard the call of his name. He came to a stop at the sound of Roman's voice and the sheer anger lacing it, cursing silently. Alec was already mad at him and with Roman in the mix, it wasn't gonna be a good time. Is it too late to turn back now?

Jace glanced back, figuring if he tip-toed away, Roman wouldn't notice him. He was about to move away from the entrance before he was stopped again. 

"I can see your haystack, Wayland." The boy in question, immediately began striding inside the Infirmary, the insult feeling greater than the unease crawling down his spine.

"Hey, your hair is fried to death! You have no room to talk."

Roman only stared with an unimpressed look and Jace was reminded again of what he'd done. His agitated look melted into one of worry as he stared at the brunette. 

"Hey?" He offered lamely, immediately regretting it when he saw Roman's eye twitch.

"What is wrong with you?!"

"Hmm, nothing. I'm perfect actually. Quiet rare, I know." He replied, trying to avoid the accusation entirely.

The man turned to Izzy in disbelief who was watching the scene silently. She knew that only the higher entity could save the Wayland boy's demise now. "Oh my God. Is he serious?" He questioned her before turning back to the blond. "Are you actually serious? Jace, I'm literally going to kill you. She can turn into a Forsaken—"

"She's fine." He pointed out, gesturing towards the redhead. "She's not gone insane and trying to kill us, so that's pretty good."

"For now! It hasn't even been that long." Roman shouted. "After a while, she'll start going angry and insane and then we'll have to kill her. And then, we'll kill you."

"She's not a—"

"Even then, forget the Forsaken. These are Covenant Marks. They can kill mundanes." 

The blond sighed deeply, closing his eyes in frustration. Before he could reply, a smack was heard followed by an, ow, from Izzy. They turned towards the sound, seeing the previously unconscious mundane sitting up, inches away from the Lightwood girl's face. 

"Wait, I don't know who you—" The redhead babbled, panicking at the sight of the unknown people surrounding her. Roman couldn't help but still. The curve of her dotted cheekbones and vibrant red curls that framed her face like a fiery halo, was oddly reminiscent—it was as though he had seen them somewhere before, in a dream or a faded photograph. But it was her eyes that made his heart squeeze. It was the same shade of green that had been haunting him, now gazing at all of them, laced with fear. 

"I'm Isabelle." The raven-haired girl introduced herself with a smile before gesturing towards the man. "That's Roman." He didn't respond, keeping his gaze on her. His brain felt like it was being clawed.

"I've never seen Jace so curious about a mundane... or distracted. Like you saw earlier, distractions are dangerous in our line of work." Izzy's statement broke Roman out of his trance as he shot the blond a dirty look. If all this is because Jace had a silly crush...

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Clary stuttered, looking around the unknown place. "Who's Jace?"

"You really don't know much, do you?"

"All I know is some psychos took my mother, and now you people have taken me."

"And by 'taken' I assume you mean 'saved your life'?" Isabelle corrected while Roman looked at the redhead in question. "Wait, did your mom get attacked by the Ravener too?" He asked her, crossing his arms. 

Her expression grew troubled, clearly lost about what he was referring to. "The demon that attacked you. It was a Ravener demon." He clarified. "Did it attack your mom too?"

"No—" She replied before scrunching her face. "At least I don't think so. She told me that she pissed some people off and that they're coming for her. Later, I—I tried looking for her in my house but she was missing. That's when I saw that demon thing."

"Who's your mom? I can try searching for her through the database." He suggested, having a feeling that if her mom was a mundane, something really bad might have already happened to her. 

"Jocelyn Fray." She replied and Roman's heart cracked a bit. Jocelyn, he hadn't heard that name in a long time. Her name keeps stubbornly echoing in his mind like a whisper travelling with the wind. Only at his earnest requests did Hodge ever talk about her, allowing Roman to learn more about her in hushed conversations. All that Alec, Izzy and Jace were allowed to know was that his father was Valentine. That was unfortunately inevitable. They didn't even know that Roman used to be a brother. It was a decree for him to not mention anything about his family. He brushed it off, assuming it was just a common motherly name.

"I have no idea what's going on but," Clary let out a shaky sigh. "I just wanna find my mom. All I care about is finding my mom." She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Please, help me find her."

It was Roman's duty as a Shadowhunter to help mundanes in need but he didn't wanna offer her any false hope. Clary was staring at him, eyes pleading with him for assistance, her vulnerability palpable in the air.

He met her gaze, his expression a mix of determination and uncertainty. "I'll do what I can in my power." he assured her, his voice tinged with resolve. "But I can't promise you anything. This world is vast and unpredictable, so things can get tricky. But I'll see what I can do."

"A mundane shouldn't even be here." Alec announced, striding into the room with a stern look etched on his face. His gaze swept over Roman, searching for any lingering signs of harm. 

Jace rolled his eyes at hearing the same thing over and over again. "She's not a mundane, Alec." 

"How do you know that?" He accused, glaring at his parabatai. 

"Because the seraph blade lit up when she touched it." Jace replied, his voice raising octaves. Well, that was brand new information. Roman raised an eyebrow as the blond boy handed him a sketchbook. "She even knows about runes."

He grabbed what he assumed was the redhead's sketchbook, browsing through the sketches as his eyes analyzed the images captured in graphite and ink. Fruit baskets and flower vases were sketched out in delicate lines along with jagged cliffs and turbulent shores covering the pages. He gently traced the renditions of people engaging in mundane activities, snapshots of daily life captured beautifully.

His finger stilled on one of the figures, surprised to see a man with the enkeli drawn on his chest. The rune for Angelic Power. Roman flipped rapidly through the pages, his eyes widening when he saw different runes scattered between her sketches. He noted that amongst all the runes, the enkeli was the most prevalent. She even drew demons with twisted forms and sinister visages, the sights fairly identical to the actual creatures. 

"Look, Isabelle, can you..." The blond hinted as the girl got the message, rising from her seat. He took her place, facing the redhead. "I'm Jace Wayland."

"I'm, uh—"

"Clary Fray." He finished for her. "We know who you are." 

That's definitely a normal thing to say, Roman thought, eyeing the previously alleged mundane as he set her sketchbook down. 

"Am I the only one who finds this unusual?" Alec voiced, expecting agreements from the rest.

Jace sighed. "You find everything unusual, Alec." 

"He's right you know. Random girl shows up and can use seraph blades and knows about runes, that's not normal." Roman interjected as the blond threw him an accusatory look.

The Lightwood boy took a step forward. "Exactly. I have to report this to the Clave." 

"You know what? Dial it down a notch." Jace snapped at him.

"My brother doesn't have a dial." Isabelle stated, chuckling lightly. "I love you, Alec, but you have a switch that's always on."

"I love you, too." He made sure to reiterate with a smile that was quickly replaced by a scowl, pointing at the redhead. "But this—"

"Hey, you know what? Give me a minute." The blond cuts him off with a harsh glare. "Here's a word you never hear me say. Please?"

"That's a first." Roman mumbled.

Alec stared at his parabatai in disbelief at what was happening. "What is with you?" The genuineness in the man's tone made Roman snort as Izzy got up from her seat, looping her hand with her brother's. "Really, no, what is with him?"

Isabelle didn't reply to his question, instead choosing to lead him outside the Infirmary. "Walk with me, big brother."

The man watched them leave with a sigh, casting a disappointed glance at Jace before making his way towards the entrance. "Wait, where are you going?" The blond asked as Roman turned back. 

"To make breakfast."

By Jace's expression, Roman could gauge that the blond boy had already assumed that. "Get something for her too." 

The man looked at them with a deep offense. "Do I look like the personal chef?"

A deep frown of exasperation laced the Wayland's features, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "Do you want her to starve to death?" 

Roman observed the redhead who was watching them silently, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "Well, it would certainly make our job easier." The man responded, his voice devoid of any interest. "Hodge said to give her some of the tisane from the jug." He called out before leaving the room, pretending not to hear the blond's millionth sigh.

The Ops Center and the kitchen were one of the few places in the Institute that were completely modernized and renovated. It was enormous with silver countertops and glass shelves filled with crockeries. Roman was proud to admit that he assisted with the renovation of the kitchen. It was a nightmare to convince Maryse to change out the cast iron stove with something more efficient though. 

He was glaring at the open fridge with furrowed eyebrows, the LED lights glaring back at him. What would he even feed her? Cereal? Smoothie? Made with milk that Roman was sure expired. Or would Hodge mind if he stole one of his labelled Tupperware containers. Or the leftover Chinese food? Actually, no. Roman would rather leave that for his own dinner. He sighed, grabbing the items needed for a sandwich. He did not have the will to cook something up.  

The events that unfolded within the last thirty minutes had him stressed, its effect clear on the way he was aggressively buttering the slices of bread. Shadowhunters just don't spawn out of thin air. He was just glad that Clary's not a mundane. The consequences would be too grave to think about and he didn't want to be killed after working so hard to survive in this world for the last few years. But the thing that gnawed at him the most were her eyes. Those were the exact eyes. Roman would know them anywhere. He had never met this girl before in his life but her wretched eyes had been haunting him these past few months. It was just a coincidence, you're normal, he tried to convince himself, not wanting to think about it. 

He sighed, taking a big bite of his sandwich as he slammed a piece of bologna on the sandwich intended for Clary. He grabbed his glass of orange juice and the plate carrying the readhead's sandwich and made his way to the Ops Center, his one safely held between the clutches of his teeth. 

He stilled, noticing Jace and Clary making their way to the entrance of the Institute. The blond stopped in his steps when he saw Roman, telling something to Clary before making his way to him. "I saw something behind her friend." He gestured towards the girl, amusement evident in his features. 

Roman was about to talk before he remembered his predicament, cursing silently when he realized that he couldn't pull the sandwich out of his mouth with his occupied hands. Jace noticed his problem, pulling the sandwich out for the man. He also ignored Roman's glare as he took a bite out of it. "What do you mean? And what friend?"

Jace immediately faltered as he realized he might just be subjected to another set of yelling. Can he just shove the sandwich back into the man's mouth? He swallowed, dropping the sandwich on the plate. "Clary's...mundane best friend tracked her here. He knows she's inside an abandoned church and you know, asking questions."

Roman took a deep breath, gripping the crockeries in his hand tightly. "Are you kidding me?" He sighed in frustration. "Wait, you saw something?"

"Yeah, behind him."

That made Roman pause, casting a glance at the redhead who was waiting. "Can we go?" She asked, her foot tapping against the floor. Roman didn't exactly trust Clary. He still feels off about her spawning out of nowhere and now her mundane bestie's here too? The situation just felt off to him and he wasn't gonna let Jace go alone, especially with a sign of potential danger. For all he knows, they made the big mistake of keeping Clary and she and her bestie would kill Jace outside. However, that was unlikely considering Jace was one of the best soldiers. 

Roman went to a nearby desk, setting the food down and making his way back to Jace (Not before casting a mournful look towards his glass of juice). He pulled out his dagger of its sheath, casting a stern look at Jace. "Fine. But I'm coming along."

The blond's lips parted in surprise, definitely not expecting that but he wasn't against it, nodding as the two made their way to Clary. The girl raised an eyebrow at the sight of the blades in their hands. "You're not gonna kill Simon, are you?"

"Protect the humans, kill the demons." Jace corrected her. "You'll get it eventually."

The cold night air greeted them pleasantly as they stepped out. "So, why can't Simon see you?" Clary questions again as they spotted the mundane. 

"This is a glamour, a rune that makes us invisible to mundanes." Jace showed the rune etched on his skin, gesturing between Roman and him. "It's a shame, really, 'cause...well, denying them all this." The boy added, his lips curled into a smirk. 

Roman's face twisted into an incredulous look. "Oh, I'm sure they're just devastated that they're missing out on your ginormous ego." Jace scoffs in response, bumping his shoulder into Roman.

"What do you have on, Clary?" The dorky-looking teenager asked, wrapping his jacket around her. "Let me take you home."

Roman stood by Jace's side, eyeing the scene. He tuned out of their conversation, looking around the place, trying to spot any potential danger. He squinted, noticing a dark silhouette hiding in the shadows behind them. He nudged Jace, guiding his attention towards it.

A man came into view, seraph blade in his hand. "Clary Fairchild!" He called and Roman immediately faltered, his eyes widening in astonishment as he looked at the surprised redhead. Wait, Fairchild? Fairchild???

He winced, cursing himself for getting distracted as Jace tackled the man. The blond wrapped his arm around the intruder's neck, effectively trapping him in a chokehold. 

"If you give us the girl, I'll let you live." He said making Jace scoff. 

"You're in no position to be making rules."

Roman brought his dagger out protectively in front of Clary and Simon as the redhead gasped at the scene while the mundane looked utterly lost by her reaction. The man managed to slam his head back into Jace's, escaping his hold. His blade glowed bright in the night as he lunged towards Jace. Instantly, Roman left his post and sliced through the man's back in a swift motion, the sharp steel catching his skin and tearing through the flesh. The man growled in pain as he staggered, his blade slipping from his hand with a clatter. Jace charged towards the vulnerable man, immediately throwing rapid punches at him, making him weak by the minute. He managed to coil his arm around the intruder once again, pinning him against him with a victorious grunt. "Roman." He called out for him. 

He grabbed the handle of his dagger tightly, plunging it deep into the attacker's chest. A guttural sound left the man's lips as a trail of crimson began pouring from the wound. "Roman Morgenstern," The man breathed out, his gaze dark. "Your father will be pleased to reunite with you." 

Roman's hold loosened on the dagger as he stared at the man with distaste. "Don't be stupid. Valentine is dead." 

The man responded with a choked laugh as he slumped to the ground. His eyes were so sinister, lips curled into a malignant smile as if taunting him. Like he knows something that Roman doesn't. "You—you have no...idea what's coming." He wheezed, each word a painful struggle. "Valentine never died. And he...he is coming for you. We'll never stop hunting you both."

The Circle member turned his gaze towards Clary who was looking back at him in horror. Roman felt dread crawl up his spine, its icy tendrils slowly covering his entire body. What? Wait what? He breathed heavily as the man's eyes glazed over, his life slipping away. Damn it. He looked up at Jace who was looking back at him with a similar trepidation on his face. What did he mean by that? Valentine Morgenstern is dead. Roman's father is dead. Everyone knows that. 

"He's lying." Roman breathed out, his eyes wide with frantic. "Right? He had to be saying bullshit."

Jace said nothing but he leaned down, pulling the man's collar to show a circle mark branded onto his neck. The rune that stood for the Circle of Raziel, founded by Valentine Morgenstern. Roman's breath quickened at the sight as Jace met his gaze again. "He was a Circle member." He said, his voice grim. "He might've been saying the truth." 

Hurried footsteps approached them as Clary stopped beside them. "Is he dead?"

"Is who dead?" Simon followed her, still not understanding what was happening. He faltered suddenly seeing the dead man materialize in front of Clary's feet. He was definitely not there before. "What the..."

"Could you deglamourize, or whatever, so my best friend doesn't think I'm losing my mind?" Clary sighed, eyeing Jace and Roman.

The blond traced his stele against the rune on his abdomen, the mark burning warmly as the effect wore off, making him visible in front of Simon. He glanced at Roman who seemed completely frozen, his eyes fixed on the dead man on the ground. Jace lightly shook him, snapping him out of his trance. Roman furrowed his eyebrows as the boy grabbed him, using his stele to trace the glamour rune on his arm. 

For a moment, he didn't want to believe it, his mind clutching onto the comforting embrace of denial. But reality's grip was so powerful, inexorably pulling him into the reality of the cold truth. A Circle member came for Clary. And him apparently. And Valentine is alive?? What the fuck?? And he called her Clary Fairchild. Is she his fucking relative or something??? His mom was an only child. So, was Clary's parent his mom's cousin or...Roman's head snapped towards the redhead. 

"Um... what is happening?" Simon asked, his eyes flickering between the two random men. 

"Yeah, we don't have the luxury right now, kid. Everyone back inside." Jace commanded, walking back up the stairs.

"Clary, who are they? Your meth dealers?"

"I've seen him before." Clary informed them, pointing at the man on the ground. "At the police station."

"He's a member of the Circle. Clary, he's here for you." Jace revealed to her, his voice tense. 

"He called you Clary Fairchild." Roman breathed out, his eyes polished as he stared at the girl. "Clary Fairchild."

"Uh, okay? My name's Clary Fray—"

"Your mother...Her name is Jocelyn."

"Yeah, look he's with the people who took my mother—Oh my God!"

"Roman!" Jace yelled as the man lunged towards Clary, pressing his dagger against her neck. Clary's breath caught in her throat, her eyes squeezing shut as she felt the kiss of the cold blade, the blood on the steel edge leaving its fresh scarlet imprint on her neck. 

"What the hell, Roman? Let her go" Jace's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. What was he even doing? 

"Hey man, you don't have to kill her." Simon tried to negotiate, his voice high with panic. "We'll give you the money for the meth." 

Roman's hand shook with anger as he gripped the handle tightly. "Who are you?" 

"I'm Clary Fray, you know this!" The girl cried out in his tight grip. 

"Then why would he call you Clary Fairchild?" He demanded, gesturing towards the dead Circle member.

"I don't know! I don't know anything."

"Your—your mom's name is Jocelyn Fairchild?"

Clary felt her eyes well up as he pressed the blade tighter. "What—What are you talking about?"

"You're not like adopted or something?" 

"Roman, what are you doing? Did the demon poison get to your head?" Jace tried again, his brows furrowed in frustration.

"Dude, she's not adopted. She looks so much like her mom." Simon answered for her, his hands feeling clammy. "Like you should see their photos or them side by side. It's like that, 'Corporate wants you to find the difference between this picture and this picture' thing. Mrs. Fray is her mom. Also, meth dealers are into biology now? I thought chemistry was more your forte—"

What is the mundane even blabbering about? Roman eyed him in frustration. Fucking picture this, picture that—He stilled, narrowing his eyes on Simon. "You're her best friend right? That means you should have a photo of Jocelyn, right? Show me, now." Roman demanded, his jaw clenched tightly. 

Simon's lips parted in surprise. What was happening? Photo??? He complied however, noticing how the man loosened his hold on Clary when he pulled his phone out. "Yeah, sure." He replied shakily as he frantically tried to look for some photos. He sighed in relief, quickly finding some from their graduation, unable to smile at the fond memory due to the sheer anxiety he was feeling right now. He handed the phone over to Roman.

Roman grabbed it and immediately he could feel all the color drain from his face as he stared at the screen. "See." Simon told him. "It's Clary and Mrs. Fray."

"This—This is Jocelyn?" He breathed out, feeling the tremors return to his hand. Simon nodded hesitantly as somberness graced Roman's features. It didn't feel like a revelation to Roman. Rather, it felt the Earth had shifted from its core. She was dead. They told him that she was dead but here she was, smiling. She looked a bit older than in the photo he had seen of her, with more pronounced cheekbones and sharper features. That youthful softness of being seventeen had faded into a more mature appearance, but it was definitely her.

 A cold sweat broke out across his forehead, his skin prickling with the sensation of tiny needles dancing across his flesh. The mundane was right, the young girl was basically a carbon copy of her. Nothing was feeling real in that moment but it was real. Roman could practically hear his heartbeat against his ears. Clary is Jocelyn's daughter? Wait—

"What about your father? He asked her, his eyes frantic. "Where is he? What's his name?"

"My—my father's dead. Died before I was born. His name's Jonathan Clark." Clary answered, fear making a home in her gut. "Just let me go. I'll answer your questions, I promise."

Jace grabbed the back of Roman's shirt, trying to pull him away from her. "Roman that's enough. Let her go." He insisted. "She doesn't know anything."

Roman pushed Clary out of his hold, stumbling back as the girl moved away from him. He silently thrust the phone back to Simon as he turned away. The world around Roman felt blurry, a profound sense of disconnect washing over him as if the ground had vanished beneath his feet. Clary is Jocelyn Fairchild's daughter. Roman's mother, Jocelyn. Did his mom leave the Shadow World and settle down with a new family? Did she have Clary with a mundane? Roman didn't know any Jonathan Clark. He didn't remember anything about her being pregnant back then either. 

His mom's alive somehow and oh—A wave of nausea churned in the pit of his stomach, threatening to rise like bile in his throat. Valentine's alive too. His father's alive and kicking. That fucking Circle member told him that his father would be pleased to reunite with him. And that he's coming. He's coming for him.

He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the overwhelming weight of what he just learned, but there was no escape. He swayed as he felt someone violently shake him. His gaze met Jace's. Roman's eyes were so vacant as if lost in some world that Jace couldn't reach into, his face etched with lines of anguish. Jace had so many questions but now was not the time. 

"Come on." Jace mumbled. "We need to go inside." 

Roman could only nod in response, his body moving on its own accord as he walked up the steps of the Institute. He could slowly feel his senses returning, life travelling back to his fingertips. 

"How do we know this Mick Jagger-looking guy is even gonna try to help you? Also, are we gonna ignore that your meth dealer just tried to kill you? We're just gonna follow them?" 

The man winced, feeling a sliver of guilt for how he acted. He should've been more calm while interrogating her. He let his emotions get the best of him. That's not how a soldier acts. 

"Mundane, we do not have the time." Jace responded, voice thick with agitation.

Clay grabbed his hand, urging him to follow them. "Come on, Simon. Let's go."

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄
𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄

Roman went ahead of everyone, not bothering to wait for them as he marched through the foyer of the Institute, heading for the Ops Center. He was pleased to see his food untouched, immediately grabbing the glass of juice. He ignored Isabelle occupying the nearby desk as he chugged it in record time, the sweet cold refreshment doing wonders for his nerves.

"You okay?" The girl asked, her eyes trained on Roman from above her monitor. He could only numbly nod in response. He didn't even feel like finishing his sandwich anymore. He grabbed the edge of his tank top, wiping the filthy blood off his dagger before putting it back in its sheath. 

"Why is there a mundane in the Institute?" He heard Alec's voice, drawing his attention back to reality. He sensed the man coming closer to him. "And you're okay with this?" Alec's tone was laced with disapproval, his scowl directed at Roman.

"Ask Jace. Mundane just showed up out of nowhere." He mumbled absentmindedly. 

"Are you out of your mind?" Alec turned to Jace. "Mundanes aren't allowed in the Institute."

"It's his new job to recruit every lost or troubled mundane he can find." Roman quipped, his dry tone earning a chuckle from Isabelle.

"Hey, the Law allows us to offer sanctuary to mundanes in certain circumstances." Jace replied, the look on his face portraying clear pride at his response. He silently thanked Hodge for reminding him of that last night. 

"So you decided to bring another mundie here? Hodge is going to kill you." Isabelle remarked, eyes squinted in distaste. 

Jace sighed. "A Circle member followed him to get to Clary." 

"I think they're the ones who took my mom." Clary added. Roman bit down on the inside of his cheek.

"The Circle member...he said something else." Roman immediately shot Jace a glare at his words. He knew it needed to be said but he didn't want to acknowledge it. "He said that...Valentine Morgenstern," Jace grimaced. "He's still alive."

A shocked laugh left Isabelle's lips at what Jace said before it died down, the humor on her face crumbling when she noticed the grimness surrounding Roman like a dark cloud had settled on his hunched shoulders. She shared a look with her brother, the same surprise mirrored on his face. "Wait, what? "

"What exactly is a Circle member and why are they trying to kill us?" Simon asked, eyes darting around for answers.

"All we know is...a long time ago the Circle led a revolt." Jace explained to him. "A lot of Shadowhunters got killed...including my father." His voice dropped to a low mutter as Roman looked down at his shoes.

"And since the revolt we've been forbidden to even hear about the Circle." Alec continued, throwing a glance at the man beside him.

Clary stared at them in confusion. "But, how's that even possible? It's your history."

"Says the girl who didn't know she was a Shadowhunter?" Jace remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. And now the only person who knows the truth is missing, so I don't care about your rules or what's forbidden." Clary shot back, glaring at him. "I'm...There's gotta be someone out there who can tell us why they've taken my mother." She sighed.

"There is." The blond confirmed. "You coming?"

She nodded as she and Simon were about to follow him before Jace blocked their way. "No, no, no. Not you." He stated, pointing at the mundane.

"Hey, we're a package deal." Clary protested making Simon nod rapidly in agreeance. 

"There are runes all over the training room floor that would kill your mundie boyfriend." Jace responded, pointing at the markings carved on the marble. His statement clearly made the best friends fumble, their cheeks growing hot the more they tried to defend themselves. 

Roman rolled his eyes at the scene. You cannot be serious right now. He felt awful. The air seemed like it had turned into razors, slicing through his chest with each inhale. His senses felt muddled and his stomach hurt. Roman had an inkling that it had to do something with the fact that the only thing he consumed in hours was just juice. He raised an eyebrow as the plate of sandwich slid into his view, spotting Alec from his peripheral. 

"Eat." He ordered gently. 

"Not hungry." 

The Lightwood boy sighed, eyeing Roman with concern. He wasn't surprised. He wouldn't be hungry either in his condition but they had pressing matters to deal with. "I'm not asking. Just take a few bites. I don't need a soldier down right now." If Alec noticed the shift in Roman's expression, he said nothing. Simply leaving before he could see his eyes gloss over, glimmering with bitterness. 

Roman watched him walk away, scowling as he begrudgingly chewed his sandwich. Soldier. Just a soldier.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." He heard Isabelle say as he shook his head. "Please excuse their lack of manners. This is Alec and that's Roman." She gestured towards them before bringing her hand out. "and I'm Isabelle."

Roman raised an eyebrow, noticing how incredibly enraptured the mundane looked by her. "Lewis. Simon, Simon Lewis." The young boy said with a nervous smile, shaking Isabelle's hand vigorously. She clearly meant for him to kiss her hand. "Two first names. Am I still talking?"

Isabelle chuckled delightfully, clearly amused by him. She's going to ruin his life, Roman thought, dusting the leftover crumbs off his hands. 

"See?" Jace pointed out. "Best friend's safe and sound here."

"Jace, if anything happens to him..." Clary trailed off, noticing Roman approaching her. The man had a presence that was impossible to ignore. He practically loomed over her (or Clary was just too short). It made her uneasy, recalling just how easily he had the power to almost take her life moments ago. 

She blinked rapidly as he shoved a plate towards her, surprised to see a sandwich on it. She suddenly recalled the breakfast thing. Oh. "Sorry about the whole..." He gestured vaguely towards his neck area. He still had so many questions but he did regret acting brashly. "Don't know what happened." That was a lie.

"If you want more, the kitchen is that way." He told her gruffly, pointing towards one of the hallways. "Go make it yourself."

She gingerly took the plate. "Um, thank you." 

He turned away in response, nodding as he left. Clary could only look at the man's retreating figure in surprise. This man almost killed her for God knows what reason and now he was handing her a sandwich that she assumed, he made himself. He was...confusing.

"Clary, coming?" She heard as she turned to Jace who was waiting for her expectantly at the entrance to the training room.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

He was lying on the wooden floor, his eyes were trained on the plaster peeling off the wall. Roman wonders if the ceiling could collapse. He wonders (wishes) if it would collapse on him. As soon as he entered the room, he was greeted by the green eyes adorning his canvas that he now recognized as Clary Fray's. Or Fairchild? He had ripped it off the easel, stashing it in the corner with the rest of his unfinished paintings. He didn't wanna think about her. He didn't wanna think about the possibility that she was technically his half-sister. He didn't wanna think about his mom being alive and kidnapped by his father, who is also apparently alive. Yet, the matter kept gnawing at him.

Was it really that easy for Jocelyn to replace them with a new family? He couldn't blame her for finding a new lover so soon, though Roman could never imagine that. Just finding someone new to start a family with that quick because Clary did not look that young (despite her staggeringly short height). Was it really so easy to move on from them? For Jocelyn to cradle a new child in her arms while locking the others away in the crevices of her mind. She was so young when she had them too. Roman wonders if they were just a fleeting memory of her youth to her.

He groaned, rubbing his fingers against his temple. His brain felt like it was being split open. He didn't want to think about any of this anymore. 

Thankfully, luck was in his favor as he heard someone barge into his room. He didn't even react, knowing that only that blond hooligan had this habit. He opened one eye to find himself correct with Jace standing above him. "What are you doing?" The boy asked, staring at the man who was sprawled like a starfish. 

"Re-connecting with nature." 

"You're on the second floor."

"Close enough." Roman brushed him off. "What do you want?" 

Jace settled on the floor, crossing his legs. "Clary's mom hid the Mortal Cup and we think that's why Valentine's after her." The truth's much deeper but Roman didn't say it, he wasn't allowed to. "And we think Clary had her memories wiped. By this warlock she knew. That explains why she can't recall things. She said there's like this emptiness."

Roman pursed his lips in thought. "Where's the warlock?"

"We don't know...which is why we're planning to go find her."

"By we, you mean you, Clary and possibly Izzy." 

Jace clicked his tongue, sending the man a glare. "Alec's talking with the Clave about the whole Valentine returning thing."

"And they won't approve of this mission either. It's a stupid idea."

"Come on, Roman." He sighed. "This warlock could have the answers we need. With Valentine's people out there searching for Clary, she's not safe outside alone...I don't think it's safe for you either."

"Which is why I'm staying in the Institute. Like Clary should." Roman said, sitting up. "You don't know what you're facing. The safest place any of us can be is inside the Institute."

"So, we're just gonna let Valentine go about his plans?" Jace exclaimed.

"We're gonna stay put until we hear word from the Clave. Who will definitely order us to stay put."

"That's stupid and you know it." Jace leaned forward. "We're wasting time here...Also, what was that stunt you pulled earlier?" 

Roman sighed. "I had questions—"

"So you put a dagger to her throat? Did all the paint thinner finally get to your head?" He questioned, gesturing at the art station located on the side of the room. 

"Why do you care so much anyway?" Roman accused, his voice tight. 

"I don't." Jace denied immediately. "You can't be going on and on about me almost killing her, which I didn't by the way, and then charge at her with a knife." 

"Look Jace," Roman ran his fingers through his hair. "if you wanna go after that warlock, be my guest. But I know for a fact that the Clave's order will include me staying inside the Institute. With Valentine," He squirmed. "back from the dead, they will grill me on and on about it. I know how this works. So, just go if you want. My head hurts. I don't wanna talk about this anymore." 

While Jace felt a surge of vitality course through him, wanting to get his hands on Valentine to get justice for what his father went through, Roman felt the complete opposite. He looked utterly spent and depleted. Jace couldn't blame him. He was aware of what being the child of that man cost Roman. Jace himself wanted Roman dead when he first came to the Institute at 10 years old. He still feels a shred of regret for how he lunged at him as soon as he found out his father was Valentine, that he was the son of that murderer. He could still feel how Roman's nose crunched under his knuckle, each hit painting the older boy's face in violent shades of crimson. He still wonders why Roman never fought back, despite being older and more skilled (at the time) (Jace knows he's better than Roman now). He just laid there, taking hit after hit, letting Jace take his anger out on him. Young Jace thought that Roman was weak scum. 

The blond sighed, knowing very well that the man was one of the most adherent people alive. Roman would not listen to him if it meant potentially pissing the Clave off. Adult Jace also thought that Roman was a wuss. "Fine." The boy glowered. "But like, stay alert. In case, we need backup."

Roman nodded, returning to his resting position again. Jace got up, dusting his jeans. "Let me know what the great nature says." He called over his shoulder, sarcasm evident in his tone.

"Hmm...it says Narcissus called. He wants his ego back—" Roman flinched, feeling a pillow harshly land on his face. 

The water engulfed him in its flowing embrace, soothing his aching soul. The shower was helping like he hoped, its cold touch helping him breathe easier. It didn't help his racing thoughts though. Should he have gone with them? Alec texted him later to confirm that he and Clary were indeed ordered to stay in the Institute by the Clave (like Roman said) but Clary was stubborn and Jace's encouragement didn't help either. He wished he was down there as back up to convince Alec into making them stay. Roman was hoping she'd be a temporary guest but with everything that was happening, she probably won't be. Roman trusted Alec to keep them in line but still he was anxious in case something happened to them and he wasn't there. What would he say to Maryse?

"May the Angel watch over them." He mumbled under his breath, tilting his head against the marble wall as a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. He wanted to stay in that gentle cocoon longer where the chaos outside was muffled and didn't hurt his ears.

He bregrudingly turned off the shower, not wanting to contribute to the increasing costs of the Institute. He grabbed his towel, rubbing the coarse fabric against him vigorously making tender red patches blossom on his skin. Running his fingers through his damp hair, he grimaced at the coarse feeling as he inspected how uneven the color had become. He reached for the leave-in conditioner, following the steps that Izzy told (threatened) him to follow after she noticed just how damaged his hair had become. Roman wasn't much for vanity (lie) but he'd rather not go bald by the time he's 30. He also got tired of Jace's faux expressions, a mixture of horrified and mournful everytime Roman went down for breakfast with the bird's nest on his head.

This was not the time for hair care but Roman had to, needed to do these simple mundane things to keep himself from lashing out. That's just a weak way to act. But then again, is there a proper way to act when you find out that the parents you spent years mourning for have been alive all this time? One too consumed in growing his plans for destruction and the other too busy caring for a new child to care about whether he was dead or alive all these years. He was their first child. Only alive child, he thought. The back of his throat stung.

The faint drip of water from the faucet was the only proper noise, the buzz of New York City was a gentle muffle in the back as each drop echoed in the stillness. He was sure he could hear everything clearly. And he heard that too.

He was frozen, hands clutching his hair, eyes widening in alarm. It was barely more than a breath, a whisper brushing past him with a caress. He was sure he heard it.

"Another to carry the burden." He heard. A shiver climbed down his spine, the soft air brushing against him. It was gentle, almost ethereal. His head whipped around, strong enough to almost cause a whiplash. His eyes searched the corners of the bathroom, horror swirling deep in his irises.

No, no, no. He didn't need this right now. There's no one here. There's no one here. There's no one here. He kept mumbling. A helpless prayer. It's all in your head. It's all in your head.

"Another cursed with the tragedy of lineage."

It said again, clearer this time. It seemed to surround him, like a snake trudging up his body, waiting to sink its fangs into his beating veins. It made him breath come out in short gasps. The room seemed to close on him, the air turning thicker and painful, burning him, hurting him.

His eyes snapped open, his breathing laboured as the sharp ring of his phone echoed through the space, that unsettling feeling draping over him once again as he saw Alec's name flash on the screen. So soon? They only left an hour ago.

"What's wrong?" He breathed out when the call connected, gripping the object tight in his trembling hand.

The line was silent for a bit before Roman heard the sheer frustration in Alec's words. "Circle members kidnapped the warlock we were tracking so now, the mundane wants to go to the City of Bones to retrieve her memories to help us find the Cup."

The line was silent for a bit before Roman heard the sheer frustration in Alec's words. "Circle members kidnapped the warlock we were tracking so now, the mundane wants to go to the City of Bones to retrieve her memories to help us find the Cup."

"What the fuck?" Roman shouted as he opened the door, the hinges creaking painfully at the harsh action. The incident prior slipped to the back of his mind.

Putting the phone on speaker, he threw it on the bed before quickly moving to don his gear. "You're kidding me. You're actually kidding me." He groaned out. "Is Jace insane? Does he lack common sense?"

"Hey, why'd you assumed I have anything to do this with?" Jace accused, his voice distant.

"Because you're the only one stupid enough to suggest it!" The man yelled in anger. "Clary is barely a Shadowhunter. She's not strong enough to deal with a process like that. Also, did you forget that she's been ordered to stay in the Institute." 

"Do you have a better idea?" The squeaky voice of the girl rang through his room. "There's no other way to retrieve my memories." 

"This is not our decision to make." Jace reminded him. "It's Clary's."

Roman was about to go on another tangent before the redhead interrupted him. "Valentine has my mom and now he's taken Dot too. If you can tell me another way to recover my memories and still get the answers we need, I'm listening."

His movements stilled as his breathing faltered at the stark reminder. Jocelyn was captured by Valentine and Roman didn't even want to think about what the woman's condition was right now. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he resigned himself to the inevitable. "Fine." He conceded with a heavy sigh, abandoning his jacket. They weren't technically in danger and didn't need assistance so, he'd rather not go unless required. 

He ignored the triumphant sound of the girl as he grabbed his phone to cut the call but Alec's voice made his finger hover over the red button. "Can...can you get here quickly? Please." His tone was softer, a gentle plea with the noises in the background now muted. There was something about it that made Roman's heart twist. Something strong enough to make him slip his jacket on. 

Roman could only hand his fare in utter disbelief, leaving the cab with the confirmation that taxi drivers are con artists in disguise. The wrought iron gates of the cemetery that held the Silent City creaked loudly as Roman stepped inside, the air thick with the smell of dead flowers. Making appointments with the Silent Brothers was a lengthy procedure and usually, you would be taken there with a horse driven black carriage but a shortcut was located here in the dark center of the garden. The City was a complex labyrinth of levels and chambers, carved deep into the earth. It was a bit grim to think about how underneath the dark soil that Roman was walking on, laid the necropolis of the Nephilim. It was even more twisted to think about how the ashes of those that died in battle are used to construct the marble arches of the City. Their blood and bone served as a powerful ward against evil so here they were, their souls woven into the fabric of the city's architecture. Even in death, the relentless cycle of battle and duty never ended. 

Roman also actively ignored thinking about the number of Clave rules they had broken by now, knowing the knowledge would give him an aneurysm. He sighed in relief when he saw the figures in black illuminated by the drums of fire. Well, he at least hoped it was them and he wasn't walking into a cult ritual. 

Isabelle's head shot up at the sound of the footsteps, her stance relaxing when she saw Roman. "Hey." She greeted him gently. She had been meaning to talk to the man but he shut himself in his room as soon as he got the chance. 

Roman nodded towards her before turning to the others, his eyes turning to slits when he spotted Clary and Jace. "We better leave this place with your memories back because the amount of Clave rules that have already been broken is just..."

"I don't care what that Clave thing or you want. I'm going to find my mother and Dot." The girl snapped, glaring back at the man. 

Roman's gaze hardened as he regarded Clary's defiance. "You're a Shadowhunter now. A useless one, but still. Especially when you're going on these impromptu missions." He reminded her firmly. "This means you follow the rules, whether you like it or not. You're venturing into unknown territory with zero training, jeopardizing not only your own safety but everyone else's too. So, you better start caring about the rules before they ship you off to Alicante and make sure that you don't leave until this whole mess is sorted out."

"I wasn't even a Shadowhunter until an hour ago!"

She was right. Roman knew she was right but he also knew that she didn't have a choice. "Well, you are now. You do realize if you're not strong enough to withstand the Brothers, you can die. The consequences of that will fall on us, more specifically Alec—"

"Roman." Jace reprimanded. "You don't need to freak her out more—"

"Why? There's no point in sugar coating this. She needs to know what she's getting into."

"If you'd let me finish, I was going to say that you are also right. Sort of." The blond cut in, clenching his jaw. He turned to Clary. "Along with what Roman said, the pain will be excruciating. You don't have to do this."

"I'll do anything. Walk through fire, battle demons, whatever it takes. I have to get my mom back." Clary replied after a beat. "I can't...I won't lose her."

Roman had to applaud the girl, she was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. If he was in her position, he would simply let everyone else do the work. Then again, growing up without a mother had perhaps made him more apathetic about such matters. He also wonders if the fact that Jocelyn is their mother is making him more lenient towards her quests. He shook his head, deciding it was definitely because Clary's their only shot at finding the Mortal Cup. 

The redhead nodded in satisfaction at their silence, walking away from the group as Jace led her down the path. Roman furrowed his eyebrows, finally noticing Simon hanging in the back. "Why are you here?" He demanded. 

"Clary's my best friend, I'm supporting her." The boy replied, eyeing him wearily. "Besides, I don't feel like leaving her with the person that tried to kill her."

Roman rolled his eyes, twisting his lips. "Acting like I tried to behead her or something." He mumbled, ignoring Isabelle and Alec's perplexed looks. 

"Well, you almost did." 

The man sighed at the mundane's response, not bothering to reply as he followed Jace and Clary, that cowering feeling of shame making his steps fasten. He came to a stop when they spotted the entrance to the City, greeted by a lovely skeleton designed on the door.

 "I can do this." Clary mumbled, forcing the conviction through her shaky voice.

"Yeah, you can. You're Clary freakin' Fray." Simon tells her with a bright smile. "You can do anything." The redhead flashed a tiny appreciative smile at him. Simon began moving towards the entrance to the City before Jace instantly blocked his path. 

"All right, hold up." 

"Surprise, surprise. No mundanes allowed, just like in the training room, right? Wrong!" Simon exclaimed, glaring at the blond. "I've seen every horror movie ever made and the funny best friend who gets left behind...dead man." 

"You're not that funny." Jace remarked dryly. "But by all means, go ahead. Of course, the minute you enter, you'll die." 

Simon stilled, one foot in the air as he was about to go in. He turned around, eyeing the boy with apprehension. "Problem is, now I don't trust you."

"He's not lying." Alec stated bluntly. He didn't need a whole new debacle to deal with. 

"Now." Isabelle added, her lips curled mischievously. "He was before."

"The rune energy in the City of Bones will kill any mundane who dares to enter, so, please..." Alec explained, gesturing Simon to walk into his death if he was that stubborn. 

"Don't know...It would probably be a way cooler death than something mundane like getting hit by a bus." Roman commented. Simon could only stare at him wide-eyed. "Oh, come on. Think about it. Local teenager found disintegrated at a cemetery, right in front of an ominous entrance adorned with skeletons. You'd be an unsolved mystery."

Roman's words were convincing enough for Simon to step away from the entrance hastily, ignoring how his brain was also agreeing with the man. It would be a cool death.

"The Brothers creep me out. I'll mind the mundane." Isabelle spoke up, walking over to Simon with a smile. 

"Your sacrifice is noted, Izzy." Jace said, rolling his eyes knowingly.

"Talk about sacrifice." Simon added, his voice stressed. "I'm missing a financial analysis class."

Roman had to stare at him in disbelief. There are much more important things to worry about but okay. He glanced at Alec, please to see the same look of incredulity. 

"I can't be here anymore," Alec said, pointing towards Simon. "So, Jace, I'm gonna mind the perimeter." He turned away to meet Roman's eyes. The Lightwood threw him a look making him nod vehemently. "Yeah, I'm joining you." Roman voiced, trailing behind him. 

The two walked in silence for a bit as they examined the area, the crackle of the fire and rustling of the looming trees filling the space. Roman's eyes swept around, searching for any signs of trouble as his hand rested on the hilt of his dagger, ready to spring into action if needed. He frowned, feeling Alec's eyes burn into the side of his face. 

"Thank you. For coming." Alec muttered, low and lovely. He knew that Roman probably didn't want to come because every step he took against the grain making him feel incredibly uncomfortable. "You didn't have to but...I appreciate it."

"You asked me to. So, I came." Roman bit his tongue harshly, cursing himself for saying that. Why would he admit that? Why would he admit it out loud that he allowed Alec's words to sway his mind that much? "Wouldn't want you to face this shitshow alone." He added, hoping it would make it better as he tasted the metal on his tongue. 

Alec didn't expect that response and it was painfully obvious by the sudden maroon dust coating his cheekbones. Thank the Angel that it was night. "Oh," He breathed out. "I...didn't realize..." That's all you can say???

But Roman wasn't wrong, things were a major shitshow right now. Firstly, that short, annoying, rude, infuriating, Alec took a deep breath, ginger showed up out of nowhere and is a Shadowhunter??? Then she brought her equally annoying mundane friend and now they were stuck chasing around like headless chickens because of her cause she knows where the Mortal Cup could be. And now Valentine's back—

He glanced at Roman, finally getting a good look at him away from all the chaos. Roman was around Alec's height but he seemed awfully small now as he shrunk into himself, eyes vacant. His gaze kept flickering all around, like a candle flame in the gentle breeze but Alec could tell he wasn't really observing anything. His mind was lost somewhere else, in a place Alec knew he couldn't reach into. A faint unease flickered within him when he noticed Roman digging his fingers into the outline of his nail beds. It wasn't something intended to be noticed, evident by the way Roman always seemed to hide his fingers in pockets, gloves, fists or simpy healing it with an iratze. Yet Alec noticed it ages ago when they were young but things had changed since then. Could he still lightly tap his fingertips against Roman's hand like he used to do? Bringing him back to reality to prevent him from picking at the barely healed scars and creating new angry red patches. Was he allowed to touch him again and have it not mean a thing?

"How—How are you feeling about, you know...Valentine being alive and all?" Alec decided to ask, broaching the subject heavy on their minds.

Roman flinched, his teeth harshly pulling the fraying skin away that he was biting when he heard the name. He pursed his lips tightly, trying not to react as his hand trembled at the pain surging through the area but Alec didn't miss it. His eyes widened in surprise, fingers twitching as he watched Roman inhale deeply and shake his hand. Alec knew he was just gonna brush it off. He brought his hand out, pausing momentarily before tugging Roman's hand close to him, his eyes scanning the wounds with growing alarm. 

"Are you okay?" Alec asked. He could make out the peach ridges tinged with specks of blood, the skin raw and red. "You're bleeding."

He pressed his thumb against the wound, hoping the gentle pressure would hold back the scarlet. The soft rumble of Alec's voice, the harsh lines dissolved from his face and how the amber in his eyes seemed to shine under the reflection of the surrounding flames. Like sunlight peeking through a medley of olives and brown. Roman could only nod silently as he looked away. I don't need a soldier down right now.

It was almost instinctive how he pulled his hand away, like Alec's touch was fire. It burned the same too. The man's lips parted in surprise as his eyes turned downcast, the stele in his hand frozen in the air.

"It's fine. I'm okay." Roman brushed him off, averting his gaze. "We should head back, everything seems clear." He didn't wait for Alec to agree, his footsteps feeling heavy as he left. 

The Lightwood could only watch him leave, the familiar ache settling in his chest. He was unable to do anything but watch Roman slip more and more into his private hell. He didn't push for the truth, like always. He let Roman lie and pretend it was easier that way. He would let himself be discarded away, like he was just another sketch that Roman deemed was mediocre and left crumpled in a corner of his room. They would do what they always did, pretend that constantly dancing on the periphery of intimacy with each other was as easy as breathing air. It was just easier that way. 

"So, is cracking someone's mind open supposed to take this long?" Simon asked the Nephilim. "Maybe we, or...you should go check?" He suggested lightly but the paranoia in his tone was clear as day. 

"Jace has it covered." Alec responded, his features twisted into boredom. 

"Take my word for it." Isabelle added, her voice sweet as she twirled a strand of her hair. "The Silent Brothers are quite unpleasant."

Roman shot her a look. "They aren't unpleasant...Just a bit different than us." 

"Yeah, super Shadowhunters who can like retrieve memories." Simon reiterated, recalling what Jace revealed at the Pandemonium. They're Shadowhunters with superior powers.

Roman let the corner of his mouth quirk up at the reply. The mundane wasn't entirely wrong. "Something like that. They're a powerful group of Shadowhunters who devote their lives to basically researching and providing asssistance when required to other Shadowhunters." Roman explained at the boy's confused look, telling enough but still keeping it vague. The mundane knew more than enough already.

Simon relaxed a bit at his words. That's not too bad—

"They give me the creeps. Anyone who mutilates themselves like that—" Isabelle disagreed, a deep tension settling between her eyebrows.

"Mutilate?!" Simon exclaimed, eyeing them frantically. 

"It helps them with their abilities, basically strengthening their minds." Roman revealed, his gaze narrowing at Simon who looked like he was going to pass out. 

"What kind of an ability requires mutilation? Like—"

"I mean, they can crack someone's mind open the same way you might crack open a walnut and leave them screaming alone in the dark if that's what they want. Those abilities are pretty—"

"That's not helping." Simon visibly shook, exasperated at how the man looks completely unfazed. "How is this normal?"

"Roman wanted to become a Silent Brother when he was younger." Isabelle disclosed, feeling empathetic towards the mundane's shock. She still doesn't get why Roman even thought of becoming one. 

Simon surveyed the man with unease. "Man, your childhood goals were sure interesting." 

"Hey, you wanted to become an Iron Sister. That's like the female counterpart of a Silent Brother." Roman chided Isabelle, ignoring Simon's words.

"They don't mutilate themselves—"

 "You know what, none of this is helping. Not at all." Simon cut in, shaking his head. "What if Clary can't handle the Brothers? What does that—"

Alec grit his teeth in irriation. "It literally never stops talking."

"Is he always so charming?" Simon quipped earning a snort from Roman as Alec narrowed his eyes at the mundane. 

"Firstborn." Isabelle sighed. "Heavy is the head that wears the crown." 

"Mmm. I feel his pain." Simon nodded his head in sympathy, his gaze following the flickering flames burning in the barrel. "Only son. Mother wants me to be a CPA."

Isabelle hummed, approaching the mundane slowly. "And you? What do you want?"

Roman raised an eyebrow, noting the genuine interest blended into the alluring layers of Isabelle's deameanour. 

"Me? Um...well, I'm in a band." The mundane mumbled, caught off guard by her curiousity.

"Yeah? What type of music?" She inquired before holding up a finger, her eyes widening. "Let me guess. Indie rock?"

"Yeah." Simon breathed out, his nervousness slowly bleeding away. 

"Got anything on your phone?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "I do. We recorded our last set. We killed it," He glanced at Alec and Roman, finding both of them lost in their own worlds, zero interest in the conversation. He patted his pockets, frowning at the emptiness. "I left my phone in the van."

"Let's go get it." Isabelle suggested, tilting her head as the mundane easily agreed with her.

"Where is it going?" Alec asked as the two were walking away. 

"We'll be right back." Isabelled replied. He raised his eyebrows knowingly at the response, earing a pointed look from his sister. "What? He passes the time."

"I can hear you guys, you know?" Simon complained before the girl led him away with her tight grip on the back of his jacket. 

Alec remained leaned against the wall of the entrance while Roman sighed, moving to sit on a nearby rock. They didn't exchange any words, letting the sound of the burning wood fill in the silence. 

Roman actually did like the Silent Brothers. He knew they were feared amongst his people with their veiled faces and sewn lips but Roman had a deep reverence to the sentinels of the Nephilim. They set their swords down to dedicate their lives to become healers and keepers of arcane knowledge and devote themselves to researches that aid others. They forsake their identity, former lives, mortality to serve a higher purpose and the concept can be disconcerting to some. It can't helped but be wondered how selfless or hopeless do you have to be to in your mortality to dedicate your life to a cause as sacrificial, their willingness to dedicate themselves entirely to aiding others. Roman could only speak for the helpless bundle because he knew, he was too selfish and angry to follow the selfless road. 

The Silent Brothers stirred both admiration and envy within Roman. He wasn't fond of the concept of being immortal, he could barely tolerate his mortal life but the idea of devoting yourself to the good of others and to have that clarity and purpose of what one's existence meant, mattered, enticed him in the despair of his own existence. If Roman was a Silent Brother then maybe, his life would actually mean something, even if he had to abandon everything he had and impose marks that would mutilate his features. It would be better if he wasn't recognizable anyway. Washing his burden away and disfiguring himself, like charcoal scratched onto a ruined figure out frustration. He would be someone new, with hollow eyes and a stitched mouth and a new name of his choice. He'd pick something honorable. But he doesn't think he would ever be deemed worthy to join their sacred ranks in the eyes of the Clave. Especially when his actual reasons are so selfish.

But Roman's duty was to be a devout soldier and he'd do the best with what he's given. He'd live a life dedicated to the codes of the Covenant and probably die in the line of duty or in battle. He hoped he would be considered honorable enough to be a part of the remains that fabricate the marble in the City of Bones. 

It didn't take long for Clary and Jace to come out from the dark entrance. Her eyes were pearling with tears and a small drop of blood was on her forehead from where the Soul Sword touched her. 

Both Alec and Roman moved from their positions, approaching them quickly. "What happened? What did you find out?" Alec asked, urgency lacing his voice, his eyes darting between the two.

Jace looked almost reluctant to answer before he finally looked towards Roman, knowing this can't be avoided. "Valentine is Clary's father." 

It was quiet for a few moments as the information processed in their minds before Alec took a step forward in defense. "Wait a minute. You're telling me this girl shows up out of nowhere and she's Valentine's daughter?"

He glanced at Roman, finding him staring blankly at the redhead. Roman felt almost...airborne, disconnected. He couldn't feel his fingertips or the cold night breeze brushing past him. It was like he's in a different place, so far away from his own body. Valentine is Clary's father. Jocelyn is Clary's mother. What? Roman wanted slam his head into the wall. 

He felt a bit stupid for not putting two and two together. He was right, Clary did not look that old. Maybe around seventeen or eighteen and the only explanation for that would be either that Jocelyn had an affair or the dreadful truth. Valentine is Clary's father. Roman exhaled shakily, his eyes narrowing at her as he flexed his fingers, trying to drive feeling back into his limbs. "You...You told me your father is Jonathan Clark." He recalled. "You lied."

"I—I didn't. My mom told me that my father, his name is Jonathan Clark. I never knew him. What I saw...it had to be a lie."

Jace pursed his lips, eyeing Roman. "Did you know anything about this?" He asked before turning to Clary. "The Circle member called you Clary Fairchild too, right? That's not—"

"Your mother's name is Jocelyn Fairchild." Roman began lowly making Clary frown. They keep saying that. "She was Valentine's wife." He revealed, the corner of his mouth turning up in disbelief. 

There was a moment of astonished silence as everyone's eyes widened in shock at the new found information. "Valentine had a wife? He was married? " Jace questioned with a grimace.

"That's insane!" Clary burst out, feeling the pressure burning her eyes. "My mother would never—she was only ever married to my father! She didn't have an ex-husband! Stop lying—"

"Do you honestly think you know more than I do?" Roman snapped, his voice dripping with disdain. "Your mother lied to you, Clary. You're just a clueless little girl who showed up yesterday."

Clary wanted to punch the shit out of him. But she could only stare at him with glassy eyes as a cold wave of fear washed over him at the familiar look on his face. That same red-hot anger that was embeded in his features when he held his knife against her throat. 

"We know he had you but you refused to say anything about your mother. We just thought you never knew her. Or she died. We knew nothing about him having a whole wife. Why did we not know?" Jace questioned, not caring about the uncomfortable silence. He stilled, his lips parting in realization. "Wait, if Jocelyn is Clary's mother and she was Valentine's wife, does that mean..."

Alec's frown cleared, his eyes lighting up at his parabatai's ephiphany. "Roman? Is Jocelyn..." He trailed off, eyeing the man expectantly. He knew that Roman understood what he meant. 

Roman didn't say anything but the silence was enough of an answer for them. "The Circle's existence remains an embarrassment to the Clave. Most documents concerning it and its members have been destroyed." Roman decided to say instead. There was nothing to hide anymore anyways.

Clary could only stare at him "Why didn't you tell me before?" she said. "That my mother was married to Valentine. You knew who she was—"

"Only because that guy called you Clary Fairchild. Besides, I have no obligation to tell you anything." He answered, his lips curled. Clary could have flinched by the way he spat those words at her. 

Alec frowned at him, unable to conceal the twinge of betrayal in him. "But why didn't you tell us? We could've saved time if you just...told us."

Roman sighed heavily, looking between Alec and Jace. "The Clave forbade it and so did Maryse and Robert and besides," he glanced at Clary. "she told me her father was someone else. Jonathan Clark. I believed her because that's what she said. I didn't know the truth either."

"Wait what—what's going on?" Clary asked, her bloodshot eyes frantically looking between them. 

"Nothing major. Just that you and Roman are long lost siblings." Jace stated, shrugging at the vexed look that Roman shot him. 

Clary blinked, momentarily stunned at how casually Jace explained the situation considering the gravity of the revelation. A laugh of disbelief escaped her. "Wait what?" She stared at the blond with wide eyes. "Long lost siblings? You can't be serious, right?"

"I believe that's what I just said." Jace quipped, crossing his arms.

"Look, Valentine having a secret daughter who showed up right when the news of the Circle being back is a little suspicious, don't you think?" Roman stated, trying to shift the focus away from him. 

"Exactly." Alec agreed, glaring at his parabatai. "Did it occur to you that she might be a spy? This might be part of her plan?"

Clary's lips twisted into a sneer. "Do you think I planned for my mom to get kidnapped? Or... or for Dot to be taken? Or to have a giant sword dangle over my head and find out that my father is one of the most dangerous people in the world? And that I apparently have a secret brother?! Really?" She looked away from them, noticing Simon and Isabelle to be missing. "Where's Simon?" 

Their heads shot up at the clicking of heels as the Lightwood girl made their way to them, her face tensed. "Where's Simon?" Clary asked her.

Isabelle gulped. "I told him to stay in the van. I've searched everywhere."

"He's gone?" Clary exclaimed at her words.

"I can't find him." Isabelle mumbled, the guilt evident in her eyes. 

"You were supposed to protect him! Simon!"

"Ugh, these mundanes are killing me." Jace sighed as the rest followed the frantic redhead. 

"Is that the mundane's name?" A sweet voice asked out of nowhere, malice brewing in his words. Roman looked up, blinking rapidly when he spotted the source. He was standing on top of the concrete bridge with his grip tight on Simon's ankle as he dangled from the ledge. Roman's frowned deeply, recognizing the man. 

"I'm afraid Simon's coming with us." Raphael stated, his lips curled into a sick smirk. 

"No! No, he's not a part of this." Clary sprinted towards them before Jace caught her, holding her back. 

"And it will be my pleasure to kill you unless you return him," Jace added sharply, his glare fixed on the vampire. Roman snapped his head towards the boy in disbelief. No chance in hell. 

"Careful." Alec warned. "We'd be violating the Accords."

"I'm afraid your sidekick's quite right." Raphael smirked triumphantly. "The Night Children have broken no laws. We're negotiating. The mundane, unharmed, in exchange for the Mortal Cup." He declared, the threat hanging heavily in the air. "And the clock is ticking. Tick-tock, people."

With a lingering gaze on them, Raphael swiftly disappeared into the night, taking Simon with him as his desperate call for Clary echoed hauntingly in his wake.