#tmifemslash

There! It’s fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird, fast and fragile.

So she doesn’t need to restart her heart but she still needs to get Izzy breathing again. She needs to get the water out of her lungs.

“Okay. Okay. I know this. Summer camp in high school with Simon.” She whispers to herself as she pulls Izzy’s head back to face her. Chin up to clear the airway, nose pinched to make sure the air actually reaches her lungs and four powerful exhales as Clary’s lips fall over Izzy’s. Check for breathing. Repeat.

She’s on the third rotation of the steps, salty tears slipping down her cheeks and joining the salt water surrounding them even as she’s still holding back the oncoming sobs, when Izzy finally starts coughing.

It’s the best sound she’s ever heard in her life. She helps Izzy get on her side, hands going for Izzy’s wet hair to pull them away from her face.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She sobs, now that she can afford to, now that she can’t hold it back anymore. “Breathe, Izzy. You’re okay.”

“Clary?” Izzy asks, her voice is weak and scratchy and such a relief to hear that Clary can’t help but pull her into a hug and clutch her as close to herself as she’s physically able to. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Clary says automatically and only then realizes it’s true. Her recent memory is a hazy blur, she doesn’t remember how they got there or why they would have come here or where here was. She doesn’t remember them going out on a mission but neither does she remember getting kidnapped, not that that would make sense anyway, not considering the Seraph blade she’d found in the water beside her. “I don’t remember.”

“Neither can I. So that’s short term memory loss for both of us.” Izzy says and tries to get up. Clary pulls Izzy’s arm over her shoulder to help but then hisses as Izzy’s side presses against her own, the pain against the right side of her ribs screams at the contact, and then does so even more when Izzy stumbles and falls back on her knees, with her free arm now clutching her thigh.

Heart in her throat Clary looks on as Izzy uses a tear in her leather pants to rip it open wider and exposes the injury on her leg. There’s an ugly puncture wound the size of a pencil and a spread of dark veins around it. She hopes the sickly green glow around them is making it look worse than it is but Clary’s unsure if that’s not just wishful thinking on her part.

Then she blinks and her mind switches back to the green glow and the fact she’s seeing Izzy at all. Because her blade has been abandoned in the water since the moment she reached Izzy’s side, extinguished as soon as she dropped it. And yet it’s no longer darkness that surround them. Instead the water is glowing. Or at least something floating on top of the water in oily clots all around them is.

Her eyes follow the floating puddles of light and land on a grotesque version of a giant sea-horse lying dead behind them. The glow is coming from the blood seeping out of the creature and dripping into the water.

“Izzy?” She nudges.

Izzy’s eyes follow Clary’s and she lets out a string of Spanish that Clary doesn’t need to understand to know for a curse. “Me cago en todo lo que se menea!”

“So I take it you know our friend?”

“Hippokappanus. A subspecies of Kappa. They like to pull mundanes off ships and drown them… and their spiked heads contain venom that causes short term memory loss.”

“Oh,” Clary says and finds her hand going to her pulsing side, to the spot where she had up to now assumed she’d bruised her ribs. She pulls up her soaking wet shirt and looks down to the seeping wound that’s a twin to the one on Izzy’s leg, the same dark veins stark across her skin. Then she furrows her brows. “But it looks like we killed it before it took us down, so why did you-”

“They hunt in packs.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.” Clary says with feeling.

“Yeah.” Izzy echoes her sentiment. “We need to get out of the water.”

With the urgency ramped up they get to their feet as fast as they can, helping each other up and trying not to slip on the water covered stone.

“Wait, Clary.” Izzy says and shrugs out of her wet jacket. “We’re going to need light.”

Clary watches her drop it in the water and soak up the luminescent blood in the silk lining of her ghastly expensive red leather jacket.

“Do you think that’s a good idea? They might smell it and follow us.”

“Salt water Kappas don’t hunt by scent, they feel the ripples in water, they hunt by sensing movement and sound.” Izzy explains and then starts coughing again like she’s about to lose her lung.

Clary swallows beside her, arm around Izzy’s waist and able only to help her stay on her feet.

Eventually after Izzy’s breathing evens out they stumble toward the back of the cave. Now that the water demon’s blood is giving them light Clary can see that that is exactly where they are, some kind of underwater cavern.

—

After a few minutes of searching they come across an opening in the cave wall, it turns out to be a tunnel ending in a dead-end, which isn’t great information as far as finding a way out is concerned but at least they’re no longer in the water and the opening looks like it’s slightly too small to give access to any potential relatives of the dead demon.

“We should preserve as much body heat as we can, it’s cold here and we can’t afford to stay in soaking wet clothes until we figure out what to do.” Izzy says once they’ve stopped, the green blood-lantern dropped on the ground in a spot where they can see the way they came in, in case something is able to follow them after all.

“What do you suggest? We also can’t strip naked, that’s going to kill us even faster.” Clary says and forcefully pushes away the mental images that come with the words.

“We should at least squeeze all the water we can out of them. Putting them back after isn’t ideal but you’re right, it’s the only option we have.” Izzy says.

“Good point, though we should probably first deal with those.” Clary says and gestures at Izzy’s leg and her own side.

“Not a bad plan.” Izzy admits and pulls out her stele.

Then she pulls off her soaked shirt to expose her chest. Healing runes work better when placed close to the heart but somehow Clary still wasn’t prepared for Izzy to suddenly be in front of her in just her bra. Heat creeps up her skin and then down before Clary catches herself and flings her eyes up and to the left to give Izzy some privacy.

She doesn’t understand the sudden energy consuming all the air in the room until Clary can only breathe in little bursts of breath. She’s seen Izzy like this before, every time Izzy has pulled her into her room to boss her way into getting Clary to try on some of Izzy’s clothes for a mission and then finds something to wear herself she’s seen Izzy like this. She’s always let Clary change behind the privacy screen because it makes her more comfortable but Izzy herself has never been self conscious. 

So it’s not a new sight, it shouldn’t be exposing any kind of new feelings.

Except of course it’s entirely different. Izzy had never almost died in front of her before, not like that anyway. Clary hadn’t ever almost lost her before.

“Your turn?” Izzy says, closer than she was before. Clary has to blink before she’s able to talk herself into looking at Izzy again.

“Well?” Izzy says and gestures at Clary to remove her shirt. Clary follows Izzy’s unvoiced prompt and does so but before Clary can move to take the stele from her, Izzy is already inside her space and slowly sliding it across her skin in the careful elegant loops of the rune ‘mendelin’. The rune burns into her skin but Clary barely feels it over the painful beating of her heart.

“Thanks.” Clary utters in a stilted sort of way, grateful beyond all reason that the light around them is not anywhere bright enough to reveal the blush Clary is absolutely certain covers almost the entirety of her exposed body.

“No problem querida.” Izzy says and affectionately pulls a wet strand of hair out of Clary’s face and tucks it behind her ear. Then she smiles at her and Clary feels absolutely helpless under it.

She wants to say this is something new except it doesn’t feel new. It feels like it’s been building without Clary having paid attention and now is when it has decided to wave its arms and draw her attention and hit her like a blow to the chest.

‘Oh.’ Clary whispers somewhere in the deepest recesses of her mind as something crystallizes in her heart, something that’s been there the entire time except now it has a shape and a face and a name. 

Then Clary swallows, builds herself back from the ground up and smiles back at Izzy before she turns back toward the situation at hand. They are cold, alone, facing an uncertain amount of time for a rescue and in not insignificant danger of being found by other water demons.

They are also soaked to the bone, so they both proceed to squeeze as much water out of their clothing as they can before they get back to dressing. Clary’s revelation will hold.

—

Once they are dressed back in their now damp and somehow even more cold feeling clothing, they share a look and carefully lay on the ground, slipping their arms back around each other. Except now instead of doing it for the support each of them provided the other because of their injuries they do it because they’re both shivering and the only source of heat they have is each other.

And maybe because it’s giving them the other kind of support, the kind you only get when someone you care about and who cares about you is there sharing whatever the trouble in front of them. Clary at least really needs the contact, it reminds her that Izzy’s right there and alive and not lying drowned in the water beside the demon that almost killed them.

She snuggles as close to Izzy as she can, close enough that she can feel the rise and fall of Izzy’s chest, hear the still not quite healthy sounding wheeze of her breathing. But as long as she’s breathing at all Clary knows it’ll be okay, that once they’re back at the Institute the healers will fix whatever the runes can’t deal with.

“Hey, Izzy?” Clary whispers a long while later.

For a moment Clary wonders if Izzy’s asleep but then she hears the whispered answer and relaxes.“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?” Clary says and doesn’t shiver even though she wants to. Not from the cold, with their arms around each other, her head tucked in the hollow of Izzy’s neck and their legs twined together, it’s almost enough to be warm. It would be if the stone below them wasn’t so cold.

“What do you mean?” Izzy asks and starts playing with Clary’s hair, it’s almost dry now, just gross from its date with sea water.

“You weren’t breathing, I had to breathe for you for almost half a minute before you finally started coughing up the water.” Clary says, and this time doesn’t manage to halt the full body shudder that fights its way out.

Izzy’s hand in her hair stops for an extended second and then resumes its soothing course through the strands.

“Well that’s just not fair at all.” Izzy says, lightly with a rueful edge of humor that confuses her.

“Huh?” She asks.

“I finally get Clary Fray’s lips on mine and I’m not even conscious to enjoy it.” Izzy says and then lightly flicks Clary’s earlobe as if in admonition. 

Clary’s lips twitch up in a smile. She chuckles. “Leave it to Isabelle Lightwood to be able to flirt as a joke after almost dying.”

Clary doesn’t even know why she says it, it just slips out before she can think better. But it’s out and Izzy freezes in place and Clary, who only moments ago was a few heartbeats away from slipping into sleep, finds she’s wide awake and absolutely terrified.

“It’s never been a joke, mi hermosa.” Izzy says. her voice tight with suppressed emotion. Except for once Clary can’t tell if it’s anger or a deep seeded sadness hiding behind the words. Either way though it feels like she’s just hurt Izzy more badly than she’s ever hurt her before and that’s saying something because despite her best attempts she can’t honestly say she’s never hurt Izzy before.

She knows she has, it was always unintentional and she never ever wanted to but she does know that there have been moments that left a mark. Except suddenly she realizes she might have hurt Izzy in ways she’d never realized before.

Because if that’s true. If Izzy’s flirting has never been a joke, if it’s never been the friendly harmless fun Clary had taken it for then… then Clary might have hurt Izzy in countless little ways since the very beginning. Because Izzy has flirted with her since the moment they met.

And with that realization Clary feels the strange sensation of her heart simultaneously breaking for Izzy and filling up to the brim with light and happiness and hope and it’s almost unbearable.

“Look at me.” Clary chokes out as she picks up her head, pushes up with her hands and stares down at the silhouette of Izzy’s face. “Please, Isabelle.”

She sees Izzy clench her jaw and for a moment Clary’s afraid that she won’t, that this moment, whatever it’s about to become is going to slip through Clary’s fingers like sand and Izzy will lock whatever is in her eyes right now into the deepest recesses of her heart, smother it until it blows away like so much smoke and never ever let it reach the light of day again.

But Izzy has always been far braver than Clary, she turns her face and lets Clary see the things she’s been hiding there for so long. There’s resentment on Izzy’s face, and hurt, there’s anger and longing and so much want Clary almost melts in it.

And then she does. 

Their lips crash together like gravity. Like lightning inside a storm. Everything within Clary exploding until she doesn’t know where she starts and these feelings end.

And between every clash of lips something else slips out of Izzy’s mouth. ‘You never saw me.’, ‘You’re beautiful.’, ‘Why was it only ever him.’,’I wanted you too.’, ‘Sometimes I wanted to hate you so badly it hurt to breathe.’, ‘You’re my best friend, I don’t want to lose you.’ and always always ‘Te quiero.’ ‘Te quiero.’ ‘Te quiero.’.

And Clary can do nothing but respond, gasping back every single thing she’s ever caught herself thinking and dismissed as nothing. ‘I saw you, i saw you.’, ‘You were like starlight.’ , ‘I missed you most of all.’, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’, ‘I can’t lose you.’  and most of all ‘I love you too.’

It’s like a moment stuck in amber and she knows that when it ends things will become complicated again, because Clary won’t be able to fix this with a few words or kisses. It seems she hasn’t just hurt Izzy, she’s broken her heart, maybe more than once and even if Clary knows she couldn’t have known, even if Izzy knows that, even though she couldn’t have avoided breaking something she hadn’t known was hers, it doesn’t mean she can mend Izzy’s heart just by wishing it.

It will take time. It will take Clary proving that this isn’t something that is happening just because she almost lost Izzy and it hurt. That she didn’t kiss her because she’s afraid that their friends and family won’t be able to find them and she’s grabbing this moment out of that fear. That it’s not happening out of misplaced guilt or pity or some sense of apology.

She’s going to need to prove to Izzy that she loves her even though she hadn’t known until almost losing her just how much, no matter how cliche it sounds even to Clary herself.

And because she knows the moment will end she wants to extend it as long as possible. Wants to imprint it into her very skin because she knows she’s going to have to fight for this. And she’s going to need to remember how it felt to touch Isabelle’s heart with her own to be strong enough to never break her heart again.

So she keeps kissing her. Tasting Izzy’s every tear, on her lips, on her cheeks and then moves to catch her own as they drop on Izzy’s face and slide down her neck.

And Izzy’s hands haven’t left Clary’s hair, like she’s afraid that if they do Clary will pull back and evaporate like water in summer sunlight.

But no beautiful moment lasts as long as you want it to so eventually Clary can’t keep ignoring the other voices. The voices coming from the cavern they left behind hours ago, the voices calling their names. 

Reluctantly she pulls back and locks eyes with Izzy again.

They stare at each other as the voices of Alec and Magnus, Simon and Jace call out for Clary and Izzy.

“We’re here!’ Izzy calls back through her scratchy throat and Clary sees the walls being pulled back in place, brick by painful brick until Izzy is the Izzy she’d known before they woke up here. The Izzy who loved Clary but only as much as anyone expected her to love Clary.

ii.

“She’s cute.” It’s the first time she really sees her, lets her eyes linger for a moment longer to take in the girl Simon is going on a date with. She admires the way the warm light illuminates her profile, catching on black curls and wonders quietly when Simon had stopped chasing Clary and found someone else. Her mind flashes to that fateful night, where she almost lost two brothers and to the girl who had followed Jace all through Brooklyn. It’s a blurry image, although only two weeks or so have passed but so much has happened since then, it feels like a lifetime away (the image of Alec, unconscious and barely breathing, however, is still vibrant in her mind, painted in reds and yellows and haunting her some nights).

“She’s cute.” She truly means it even as she tears her eyes away, a smile tugged into the corners of her lips but things happen and maybe she doesn’t think about Maia Roberts all that much after this. (Or maybe she does one day, in the middle of brushing her teeth and looking into the mirror, a flash of that girl at the bar before her eyes and her own words echoing with that soft hint of admiration she can’t quite put her finger on.)

iii.

Weeks pass, things happen and Isabelle wonders if life will ever slow down for just a moment, give her time to breathe and live. When she looks up, jacket half tugged up her arms, there she is again. It seems a little like they run into each other by accident, unexpected but she has to admit it’s not unpleasant.

“I don’t think we’ve actually met. I’m Isabelle Lightwood.” It’s the first thing she truly says to her, smiling gently and because it’s the right and polite thing to do. Maia barely spares her a second glance before her eyes land upon Simon. “Are you taking her on a boat ride?” And Izzy would be insulted for not even getting so much as a hey but the quiver in the other girl’s voice is what truly confuses her.

Simon starts rambling and Maia doesn’t even look at her again and Izzy really, really doesn’t understand what this whole situation is. Simon and Clary only just broke up and Maia seems to have a wall around her, so high and effective enough to keep people out.

“I will see you later.” But it’s only directed to Simon and then Maia steps away and Izzy can’t help but turn, eyes following the other girl (and she most definitely doesn’t stare at those long legs striding towards the kitchen doors).

iv.

She’s not quite sure why she does it. It really is none of her business and she shouldn’t get involved but Simon is her friend and he’s always helped her when she needed it. So maybe it is her way of saying thank you for doing this, a way of doing something for him after his whole life got turned around because he was thrust into a world of shadows and magic he didn’t understand. Or maybe she just wants to know what that sad flicker in Maia’s eyes meant, what anyone could have done to a girl so fierce and beautiful that had made her pull away so quickly. So, it’s not about Isabelle herself, not at all, but when she looks at Maia now, all defensive and seemingly uninterested, gaze resting upon the book in front of her, something shifts. She asks because there is a gentle tug in her chest that makes her want to know, makes her want to talk.

“Who was he?” She knows she’s overstepping, knows it’s not her place to ask or give advice but her tongue is much quicker than her thoughts, the question slipping past her lips too easily. The answer isn’t what she was expecting at all. Jace? Her very own brother? It’s surprise that roars up her throat, a soft chuckle of disbelief because Maia seems to have no interest in any Shadowhunter.

Fun, nothing more. It should be enough, clearly a sign the other girl doesn’t want to talk about this – especially not to her, a stranger and above all a Shadowhunter. This should be her cue to leave, to nod and maybe give a last word of reassurance that Simon is not like whoever has left Maia’s heart in pieces once. The thing is Isabelle is too used to giving advice to her brothers, although they rarely want to hear it, giving it to anyone because she wants them to be happy. Simon deserves another shot at happiness after this mess and even though Maia and her are barely more than strangers, she wants that for her too.

(She wants it for herself but that is a thought for lonely nights curled up in the silence of her room.)

“Losing control sucks, I know that better than anyone, but it’s a hell of a lot better than never taking a chance at all.” And maybe it’s the sincerity in her voice, how her own truths blend into her words instead of praises for Simon or cliché advice anyone could have offered but Maia actually looks a little taken aback, stays silent and just stares at her, blinking.

“Nice to meet you, Maia.”

v.

Laughter echoes through the bar, the orange glow of lights accentuating the carefree atmosphere. It feels oddly like home, a warm fuzzy feeling bubbling inside her veins that has little to do with the two glasses of champagne Izzy has drowned ever since she got here. No, it’s the slow realization that settles in, hours after she had seen Valentine’s dead body and Jace alive and well; the realization that it’s finally over, that the war will end now. Maybe it’s a little foolish of her to think everything will work out now but somehow, she does.

As her gaze drifts over everyone in the Hunter’s Moon, Shadowhunters and Werewolves and Warlocks and even a few Seelies, she couldn’t keep the smile from spreading upon her lips even if she wanted to. There’s Luke laughing with a few others who she assumes are members of the pack, beer bottles in hand and clapping each other on the back. There’s Jace and Clary close to each other at the bar, wrapped up in conversation and hands intertwined upon the counter. She can’t seem to find Alec, usually easy to spot the mop of dark hair above any crowd but her brows only furrow for the smallest of moments before realizing Magnus is nowhere in sight as well and she’s sure this is a good sign at last.

It is a good night, the first one in so long, Izzy muses as she pushes through the crowd to get to the bar and ask for another refill of her glass. She can feel the beginnings of sleep pushing in at the edges of her consciousness, a slow tug of tiredness and exhaustion from days so draining, both physically and emotionally. But it’s worth staying awake for another hour or two, enjoying the atmosphere sparked with a cheerfulness that could only come from one four letter word: hope. By tomorrow the next crisis will surely have arrived; there is still the mysterious disappearance of a mass of demons to worry about and as much as tonight looks like a new beginning, Izzy is sure that recent events won’t be so easily forgotten.

Lost in thought, fingertips gliding over the slightly sticky top of the bar, it takes Isabelle a few moments to register the person pushing up to the counter on her left, a flash of red tugging her attention away from the brown wood. She kindly ignores that the first thing her brain provides as she turns her head is that Maia’s and her own outfit match in color.

They both open their mouths at the same time, about to say something, then close them once more and a laugh bubbles up in Izzy’s throat just as the bartender places her refilled glass in front of her. They take Maia’s glass without a word but the two exchange a small smile and Isabelle is reminded that the werewolf usually works behind the bar, her mind flashing to the night she really took notice of her for the first time. She’s cute, her own voice a distant echo now but no less true. In fact, Maia isn’t just cute. Cute was an understatement, she decides then and there, as warm light dances upon the edges of dark curls and the content smile everyone seems to be wearing today softens her features. She quickly takes a sip of her champagne to silence those thoughts.

“I wanted to say that I… appreciated your advice.” Maia’s voice cuts through the background noise of laughter and clinking glasses and the upbeat music coming from the speakers. Izzy is sure she must look comical as her eyebrows rise high on her forehead. This really is the last thing she expected. She’s caught a glimpse of Maia and Simon earlier, all smiles and touches and seemingly happy and she is glad it worked out in the end. But she never expected the other girl to mention their last encounter ever again.

“I mean, it wasn’t your place to ask and I won’t say thank you. I know all you Shadowhunters have a hobby of getting involved in everyone’s business but you should really work on that.” It’s said with a smile though, a glint in warm brown eyes that tell her Maia is only teasing. Which she is sure is mainly due to the lighthearted atmosphere around them but oh, she’ll take it. “But in the end, it did make me think and it looks like things worked out… for all of us.”

Maia nods towards the rest of the bar, her black curls bouncing up and down for a moment before the dim orange lights set on them once more. It takes Izzy just a second too long to tear her eyes away and return the small smile the other woman sends her way. “Yeah, looks like it.”

Maia eyes her for a moment, something curious in her gaze as it flickers over Isabelle’s face but the moment is broken when the bartender places a refilled beer glass on the counter and utters a gentle “There you go” before disappearing down the bar once more. The silence that follows now is a little awkward, with nothing left to say between them. It’s not like Izzy to be at a loss for words, usually easy to talk to and make conversation. With Maia, she feels like she is on thin ice, on some invisible edge she doesn’t know how to navigate. Especially after that less than great first impression. Even with their shared laughter now and some sort of mutual understanding, something about the other woman and their silence has heat creeping up her neck as she worries her bottom lip.

She’s about to bid her goodnight and find Clary and Jace again, maybe down her glass and make her way back to the Institute when Maia raises her own glass in question, one eyebrow raised. With a soft chuckle their glasses clink together, the drinks inside swaying and that awkwardness vanishes, somehow drowned out by the laughter and warmth of the Hunter’s Moon.

“So how was that book on phytoplankton?” Isabelle quickly hides her grin behind the rim of her glass, fighting a chuckle when she sees Maia’s eyebrows shoot up now. In confusion or surprise, she isn’t quite sure.

It takes her another moment to answer, her eyes dancing once more over Izzy’s face as if trying to find a joke or trick in this. When she seems to come up empty she shakes her head on a grin of her own, placing her drink back on the counter. “It was… pretty boring, actually.” Her fingers draw patterns into the drops of water gathered on the outside of her glass. “But I guess not everything you have to study is supposed to be fun.”

“So, you’re studying marine biology?”

“Yeah…” A proud smirk takes over Maia’s features and Isabelle really can’t blame her. She still remembers the day when she had decided to become a forensic pathologist, eyes full of light and heart filled with a yearning for knowledge. When she had graduated in record time with perfect grades, it had made Maryse smile at her for the first time in so long; that alone had been worth it.

“Simon told me you’re a scientist too. Although he wasn’t quite sure what kind and his description included about five adjectives, body parts and more demons?”

They share a laugh that feels somewhat private even within a room full of people; even between two women barely more than strangers. It’s surprisingly easy to laugh with Maia.

“Sounds about right.”

“What’s that like? Cutting open some piece of hell?”