Getting The Past Back (An Infernal Devices and Mortal Instruments Crossover)

XXIII

Another good thing for the night: All of the beds in the Institute except the ones at the Infirmary is capable of holding three people with so much more space to crawl on.

The iratze is finally done healing Will's cut, which now feels as if nothing had touched him. It left a small faint scar that ran down his arm, though. He could remember the pain he felt when Tessa tried a sort - of first aid spell on him, which drained most of her energy. Apparently, this was the first time she did it. For him. The thought made him smile - and partly guilty, for he can also remember Tessa's paled face after the session. The ritual took amounts of energy from her.

And now all the kinds of pain he felt awhile ago were gone, and the iratze restored some of his energy,he can never bring himself again to sleep. Instead of doing something more stupid, he tried to recall the events from the subway.

The gang got him just in time before another claw is about to get him that is aimed at his neck. Clary Fairchild kneeled onto him, pulled her stele out, but Jace caught her wrist, telling her she should not give Will iratzes but pain killers. Clary drew another one - one of the runes from the Gray Book, she told him and he felt numb for a short period of time. The pain returned when they were out of the subway, after Alec shot an exploding arrow with a destruction rune on its tip to the cavern, sending the whole place shaking. He heard the mundanes guessing it's from a freak earthquake as they go.

Not a bad guess. At least it was really really far from the truth. It was Clary's idea to create the explosion by creating another sort of destruction rune that can be drawn  on projectiles.

Will was impressed to the talent of the Fairchild. How she can create runes out of nothing, he doesn't know, but nevertheless, it was a very handy, very useful talent.

The Fairchild bloodline is the bloodline of the talented.

Henry and his inventions.

Will also overheard one time that Clary's mother is an excellent painter, both from Magnus and from Jace.

Quite a great bloodline. Will mused. But the Herondales are better.

Tessa stirred to his direction, which made him freeze. Her cold hand rested on his chest, and she snuggled on the crook of his neck. Her warm breath tickles his now sensitive skin on his neck, sending shivers on his back. Will then pulled out his arm out of Tessa's weight. She gained weight, huh? He rested his now free arm to his chest just next to Tessa.

Tessa nudged at him closer and stilled, as if she is having a nightmare. Will half-wanted to shake Tessa to her consciousness, but Tessa's mouth stopped his thinking.

It was barely a whisper, but he had heard Tessa say it enough times in her sleep back then. But she mouthed a name that is also familiar to him.

I love you, Jem.

The mentioning of Jem's name shattered his fragile heart. Not only because the words were not directly at him, but also because that reminded him painfully that he does not belong here. He belongs in the Victorian England. Not modern day New Yorkshire.

He does not belong in this bed.

Will didn't hesitate jumping off his bed as silent as he can. He quickly glanced at the couple, sleeping peacefully on the massive bed. It's good for him that his cat-like grace never left him.

Oh well, talents never die.

Will left the door slightly opened, not risking to create even the faintest sound.

The corridor feels cold. Will wished he wore something thicker. Just when he is about to turn the knob to his room, he paused, remembering that he can't sleep. After a few moments of inner debate, Will finally decided he would sneak on the kitchen in the middle of the night - or was it dusk? It didn't matter.