◤I am not giving up on you, Herondale. So you cannot give up, either.◢
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CHAPTER FORTY ONE: DYING
WHEN Marie Wayland opened her eyes, the gigantic metallic creature was gone. The gray mechanical parts of it were scattered across the dark floor, serving as the only sign that the creature existed in the first place.
Her ears were buzzing, causing her to blink rapidly as Gabriel Lightwood held her in his arms. She noticed him moving his lips, a long gash creasing at the right side of his face, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. The ringing in her head was growing louder with each passing second, making her press her own hands against them. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to muffle the paining sound.
"You're all right," Gabriel's voice sounded distant, but it was enough to pull her out of her daze. Her head spun around as she attempted examining the dusty room they were in. Will was covering Tessa's body with his own. Jem had a stele in his hand, trying to heal himself. Henry was slouched against the wall, gently murmuring words into Charlotte's ear.
"Nate!" Marie recognized Tessa's shout. She had somehow managed to wriggle out of Will's grip, crossing the room in a matter of seconds.
A large spear was coming out of Nathaniel's chest, pinning him to the pillar nearby. Around the metallic spear was a growing splotch of crimson, staining the man's clothes as he struggled to breathe. His hands were curled around it, pulling at it desperately.
Marie felt her body being supported by Gabriel, arm circling around her waist as he lifted both of them up. Together, they watched as Tessa pulled the spear out of Nathaniel's flesh, barely managing to set him down.
"Nate," Tessa called his name, allowing his head to rest in her lap. By now, she had changed into her old self.
"Tessie," his voice was rough, his eyes scanning his own state. He coughed with difficulty, watching as more blood poured out of his wound.
Tessa shook her head, pressing both of her hands against his chest. "Oh, God," she muttered, her voice raising as she turned to face Marie. "Marie, please-"
But Marie knew it was too late. The pool of blood that surrounded him and Tessa was growing larger by the second and since Nathaniel wasn't a Shadowhunter, there weren't many things she could do.
"I'm dying. I know," he coughed again, more blood pouring out. His mouth twisted into a frown as a jolt of pain roamed through his body. "Don't you understand? I've failed the Magister. He'll kill me anyway. And he'll make it slow." Nathaniel's palm lingered over Tessa's. "Leave it, Tessie. I'm not being noble. You know I'm not that."
She shook her head. "I should leave you here to die alone in your own blood. That's what you'd do if it were me."
"Tessie, the Magister was never going to hurt you."
"Mortmain," she said. "Nate, where is he? Please. Tell me where he is."
"He-" Nate choked on his own blood. "Tessie... I - I'm dying. I'm really dying-"
"There's nothing to be afraid of, Nate," Tessa silenced all of her questions, whispering to her brother.
"Not for you, maybe. You were always - the good one. I'm going to burn, Tessie." His voice died on his lips, eyes widening in realization. "Tessie, where's your angel?"
Tessa's hand flew to her neck. "I couldn't wear it. I was pretending to be Jessamine."
"You-must-wear it." He coughed once again. "Wear it always. You swear?"
She shook her head. "Nate..."
"I know." He allowed a shy smile to climb up his lips. "There's no forgiveness for - the kinds of things I've had to do."
"I forgive you."
"You don't know everything I've done, Tessie."
"Nate?" Tessa neared her head toward her brother. "Nate!"
But no reply came from the man. His hand fell to the floor, limp and pale against the crimson blood.
"Nate," Tessa shook his body, calling his name, over and over again.
But there was nothing. No word left his lips. No cry. No plea. Nothing.
Nathaniel Gray was dead.
"Come on," Marie heard Gabriel whisper to her, turning her away from Tessa and Nathaniel. "Allow her some privacy."
Averting their attention, the two saw Jem, Charlotte and Henry gathered together. They were kneeling on the floor, carefully watching over something. Over someone.
In that moment, Marie could have sworn she felt her heart leaving her chest. It only took her a moment to realize whom they were gathered around. It only ever took her a moment before she broke out of Gabriel's embrace and ran toward the group, knees scraping against the floor.
"Will!" Marie's scream came out as raw and filled with worry. "Will!"
He was laying in a pool of his own blood, breath shallow and ragged. Jem's mouth was close to his ear, soothing words offered to his parabatai. The Herondale boy was turned to the side, his gear shredded to pieces by a part of sharp metal. His black hair was wet, sticking to his forehead and falling into his barely opened orbs.
"Will," Marie seized a hold of his hand, clinging onto him as if he were to escape at any given moment. "No, no, no."
"He knocked Tessa down and covered her to protect her from the explosion," Jem said as he neared his stele to Will's skin. "But there was nothing to protect him. Contrary to you and Gabriel, Will and Tessa were the closest to the blast. The metal fragments shredded his back. He's losing blood quickly."
"Did you give him an amissio?" Marie cleared Will's forehead, staining her own fingers with blood. It reminded her awfully of the scenes darkness had taunted her with; Will dying in her very own arms.
Henry nodded. "We stopped the blood loss," he said. "But we can't use an iratze. If his skin heals over metal, it'll drive the piece farther into the soft tissue. We need to get him back home to the infirmary. The metal must be removed before he can be healed."
Marie nodded in understanding. She glanced at Jem. "Please go and check on Tessa," she said. "She's with Nate. I promise you I am not letting go of Will."
Jem hesitated, his silver orbs lingering on Will a while longer. Then, with a swift nod, the Carstairs boy stood up and left.
Marie took his place, nearing her head toward Will. "Will," she whispered gently, not bothering to pay attention to others' intense gazes. They were all family; certain emotions couldn't be hidden and Marie - quite frankly - didn't even bother. Her hand held his, her thumb brushing over his skin and stroking it gently. "Will, I am here. You don't have to respond, but you need to know that I am not letting you go. Not now. Not ever."
Will didn't reply. His body only continued to shake at the rising pain that rummaged through his insides. His breath was growing slower, sharp intakes barely managing to come past his lips.
"I am not giving up on you, Herondale," she squeezed his hand. "So you cannot give up, either." Marie paused, lightly kissing his forehead. She neared her lips to Will's ears. "You are a fighter, Will. I know you are. So, don't give up now. Do you hear me? You have to hold on. Whatever happens, I'll be there. I promise you, Will."
Marie didn't know whether she was imagining things or exhaustion was simply taking over her body, but she could have sworn that she left the warehouse with Will's hand squeezing her own.
*
JEM and Marie spent many hours in the infirmary of London Institute, bodies bent over the beds of their loved ones. So, truly, when Brother Enoch arrived to offer his help, the pair was more than just delighted.
Gabriel had left earlier, along with Gideon, despite everything that happened. Charlotte had instructed that it was best for them to return home and pretend that nothing important happened; it was the only way of them fooling their father.
Everyone else, after bidding goodbyes to the Lightwood brothers, returned to the infirmary. They were all beyond relieved to see Will awake, laying on his stomach. The upper part of his body was left naked, his head resting on a pillow as he spoke tales of his bravery.
Jem stood the closest. "Will," he said. "Will, are you sure you won't have another painkilling rune?"
"No more," the black-haired boy grumbled. "Just get it over with."
Brother Enoch neared Will, a pair of silver tweezers resting in his hand. Marie watched the raven-haired boy burying his head into his arm as Jem flinched the moment tweezers dug under Will's pale skin. The girl wanted to reach out and help the parabatai pair somehow, but she knew that there was no way of doing so.
Will had to fight the pain alone, however, the fact didn't reassure Marie much when her ears registered Will's muffled cries.
Jem's hand flew to the side, gripping Will's tightly. "Grip my fingers," he said. "It will help the pain. There are only a few more."
"Easy for you to say," Will's back muscles tensed again as Brother Enoch resumed his work. His lungs worked faster, Will's breaths coming quick and shallow.
Had it been any other man in front of her, Marie would have been embarrassed, but the girl grew up with Will and Jem by her side. Often, she had been the one to draw the runes upon their naked bodies.
"Come on, Will," she whispered into her chin, hands flying to grasp the necklace that rested in between her collarbones; the Fairchild family heirloom.
Will's spine arched unnaturally, hand gripping Jem's up until the boy flinched. He looked equally as pale as Will, but knew that - this time - he had to be strong for the both of them.
Slowly, Brother Enoch retracted his arms away from Will, allowing his body to fall limp against the bedsheets.
You can bandage him now, his words echoed in Marie's mind. Draw iratzes, as well. He should be fine.
"Thank you, Brother Enoch," Charlotte sounded broken. She had been switching her seats, watching over Tessa and Will with equal concern. "Henry, would you please escort Brother Enoch?"
With a single nod, the red-haired man exited the infirmary room, leaving Sophie to comfort Charlotte. Marie, on the other hand, neared Jem.
The silver-haired boy gently laid Will's hand down, rubbing his pale knuckles. "You know," Jem said, silver orbs colliding with Marie's hazel ones. "He was in a lot of pain."
The statement caught Marie off guard, sending an arrow of pain straight into her heart. Seeing Jem broken wasn't a pleasant sight. Despite enduring terrible injuries himself, the boy remained strong, never once allowing himself to appear as weak in the eyes of his parabatai.
"James," Marie spoke cautiously, but the truth was - she didn't know what to say. This was one of those situations where words failed her.
Jem didn't blame his friend. Quite contrary. He understood her; words have failed him, too.
So, he said nothing. He stood up from his seat and pulled Marie into an embrace. It was a tight one; uncharacteristic for Jem. It made Marie realize just how desperate he was feeling. Both, his brother and the girl he loved were unconscious and hurt and Marie was the only one who understood what he was going through.
So, she didn't waste much time to respond. Her arms circled around Jem's frame, fingers burying into the material of his bloodied gear. She let the boy cry into her shoulder, whispering things they both needed to her.
"Everything's going to be alright, James," she said. "You'll see. Everything will be alright."
Marie allowed her chin to rest on the boy's shoulder and as she closed her eyes, she couldn't help but struggle to believe in her own words.