Overwhelmed [3] 《SHADOWHUNTERS》

Chapter Nine

"You don't have to take care of us all, okay? Everyone's fine. Maybe... spend a little time taking care of yourself."

"Okay."

The sun was up and shining vibrantly across the city from Uptown to the cracks in the docks. Andy took in the silent lot that the Jade Wolff was tucked into as seagulls shrieked above her. A black vinyl bag hung off her shoulder. She stretched out her neck and headed towards the rusty boathouse that stood by the water. The blue sky glimmered on the surface as it slapped at the cement.

Metal rattled under her brutal assault, causing the person residing in the shack to jolt up in alarm. Her knuckles rested against the cold aluminum. She waited for a few moments with a look of boredom plastered to her face. Her dark hair was tied back into a tight ponytail, though her curls still managed to escape their entrapment. She huffed and the door shook violently under her touch once more.

The heavy latch clicked behind it and the cream-colored metal screeched, protesting its own purpose. Out of the shadows came a tired vampire. His brown eyes squinted up at her as he leaned against the doorway – most threats didn't bother knocking. 

"Andy?" He questioned, confusion growing as he looked behind her. "Where's Clary?"

"Not here," the Shadowhunter briskly dismissed him, stepping forward without warning. He moved out of her way, bumping into an oar that was propped up against the wall behind him. It clattered to the ground as he made a useless attempt to catch it. She ignored his usual fumbling and shoved the door open further. The room was dusty and dark and she didn't like it.

She swung the vinyl bag off of her shoulder and onto the floor. It landed against the cement with a series of clangs. Simon whipped around, staring at her with his eyes wide. The long fabric didn't appear to have chains inside, but he wasn't too sure the woman would have brought anything that was less concerning. They didn't have much of an established bond, except for that one time she dove in front of her believed-father's blade to save his life. 

He watched, dumbfounded as she pulled out her stele and activated a few of the runes on her exposed arms. His eyes widened when she pulled up her black tanktop and refreshed the one swirling on her abdomen. "Uh," he stumbled, trying to retreat back into his den. "Did she ask you to come here–?"

Andy gave him a dull stare. "Not everything's about Clary." Her words were blunt, simply sharing a fact that she felt he had a right to know. She stepped over to her discarded bag and leaned down to unlatch the velcro straps. It unrolled before her with a push, a few stitched segments inside with a metal glint peaking out of each end.

"W-What's that for?" Simon questioned, voice wavering. Andy pulled out a metal rod to answer his question. He was not fond of the way she balanced it in her hands. He had seen her do the same with blades many times. His brain was suddenly quite creative with the amount of morbid ways he could be murdered in his makeshift abode.

She examined the rod for a moment, then abruptly tossed it over to him. He caught it without trying to, nearly dropping it before he tightened his grip to compensate for its weight.

She grabbed another for herself and stood up, cocking her head to the side. Simon didn't need his enhanced hearing to catch the crack that came from her neck, wincing. "Not that I don't appreciate your company," he started off in his typical disapproving, high-pitched fashion, "but, I mean, even Jace calls first." He had a good idea of why there was a staff in his grip, and he wasn't looking forward to getting pummeled. Even if he could somehow manage to protect himself against and hurt Andy, he was certain Jace would soon be hurting him much worse.

Andy scoffed at his comment, "I bet." She paused and pulled herself back when she took in the worry lines that creased his skin. She decided to explain, "I was thinking: no one's taught you to protect yourself."