Inside of Me ━ Isabelle Lightwood

V. BITE ME

If there was one emotion that Isaac knew well, it was helplessness. The sensation like a boulder weighing on your shoulders, holding you onto the ground as a prisoner. The one where you can only hope to watch, to reason, because you know there is nothing you can do - that it what Isaac felt. Here, in his arms, was a crying Clary because Dot was gone. She had been taken by Valentine, and even though he told the redheaded girl comforting words of how she would be okay, Isaac knew that she was either dead or dying.

The whole day - no, the whole week - Isaac had felt this helplessness. Nothing he said could help them, none of the limited information Jocelyn provided him could be said aloud for them to hear. The older Fray had made it clear that nothing was to be given away until the right moment, and that wasn't any of those.

But in one word, Isaac was tired. He was tired of running around, keeping secrets, and feeling helpless - the three reasons that made the Lahey boy run away from Beacon Hills.

But for once, Isaac had time to process everything that had happened that day. There was finally a moment to think about what brought them here after his mental breakdown just that morning. Even though it had only been a day, it felt like a year.

•••

Running out of the training room, Isaac's breathing started to heavy. He knew the information, he had been told of Jocelyn's past mistakes and how Valentine was a monster, but there had never been an in-depth tour. Isaac couldn't imagine what was running through Clary's head at the moment.

"Hey," a voice snapped Isaac's attention away from his thoughts. The sight of Isabelle Lightwood appeared with a concerned look on her face, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine." Isaac gave her a fake smile and tried to control his breathing, but it was obvious that he wasn't okay. Isabelle approached him with caution, like he was glass and would break at any given moment.

"Isaac," she said in a low, motherly tone, "What's wrong?" It was clear to the Lahey boy that there was no running from this. No joke could be made to draw away from the topic and nothing could steer away her concern.

But that didn't mean Isaac wanted to talk. Openly, he could talk about his broken home or the way his "father" was to him, but things like this made Isaac want to crawl up in a ball and rock himself.

"It's just that - well, it was," Isaac took a breath, gathering his thoughts and trying to find how to put them in words before speaking again, "W-What they were, uh, talking about."

Isabelle let out a laugh, smiling sweetly to him, and walking to him with ease. "Isaac, it's fine. Everybody gets the chills when they first hear the story."

"No," he shook his head. She wasn't hearing him right, she didn't understand! Why couldn't she understand? "I've experienced things like that."

"What? Like the mortal cup?"

"War," it was soft like a whisper but violent like a hurricane. The one word caused the air to turn from uncomfortable to horror-stricken. "I've seen war before, and he isn't nice."

Her heart was beating fast, Isaac could hear it and it was distracting. Sometimes, he liked that ability, to know when someone was scared or lying. But this wasn't one of those times. It made his guilt build even higher, knowing that he could be the reason for her terror.

"Isaac," she chocked out, "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"No one did." And that was the end. There was no more talking. Isaac was catching his breath and trying to forget about the fact he almost had a panic attack while Isabelle was trying to understand what kind of war he was talking about.