Miss Optimistic
Clary felt the guilt hit her like a brick wall. “So my mom was telling the truth.”
Isabelle’s eyes, which had been watching her carefully throughout her whole explanation, was gentle when she said, “You couldn’t have known. You were raised a mundane – it would have been surprising if you actually believed her.”
Her gaze became too heavy, Clary had to drop hers and immediately the fogginess returned. “Do you… Do you think I would be okay if I had just listened to her?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied, her tone thoughtful “I think the curse would have found you regardless. I would be pretty shocked if hiding in your room could protect you from a curse.”
Clary let out a short laugh. The fuzziness in her brain had become too much so she looked at Isabelle again – everything quietened. “I think you’re my link to the real world,” Clary told her, “Whenever I look away from you, I have this out of body experience. You bring me back.”
Isabelle nodded, taking it in. “That would make sense. I guess when I’m sleeping I can anchor you, and bring you back from whatever unconscious state you’re in due to the curse.”
“So when you wake up… What happens to me?” Clary asked.
“I don’t know. Return to whatever state you were in before I went to sleep?”
Clary frowned, “I can’t remember what I was doing then. One minute I was in Central Park and the next I’m with you.”
“At least you’re not suffering,” Isabelle said softly. Clary silently agreed. “Magnus is coming back tomorrow to examine you,” she told Clary, “He’s the one that your mom asked to make sure you forget any contact with the Shadow World. We reckon that because he’s familiar with your mind, he’ll be able to delve in the deepest to try and figure out who cursed you.”
Clary nodded. Then she said, “I feel pretty helpless.”
Isabelle reached out, brushing some of hair aside. It was as if the touch of her fingers was taking her worry away. “I promise I’m going to wake you up, Clary. I swear by the Angel, I’ll save you.”
She believed her. She barely knew Isabelle, but she believed her.
“Thank you, Isabelle.”
“Call me, Izzy.”
“Okay,” she agreed, “I will.”
Clary blinked. Isabelle was gone. Her mind exploded into white noise. And then everything was dark.
----
Isabelle woke up with a start, gasping loudly.
“Clary?!”
She was in her bedroom in the Institute, sweat was forming on the back of her neck. Isabelle flew out of bed and down the corridors of the Institute, not caring if she was still in pyjamas. She burst into the infirmary and her gaze immediately zeroed on Clary, still sleeping soundly.
She walked over to her and sat in the chair beside her bed.
‘Was that real? Or was it just my imagination?’ Isabelle asked herself. The details of her dream with Clary was razor sharp, and not at all like the sluggish memories of ordinary dream. She could recall the hazel-green of her eyes and her voice – surely those were things she couldn’t imagine? She had never seen Clary’s eyes or heard her speak so perhaps…
“Isabelle?”
She turned and saw Alec at the doorway, watching her with concern. She almost never denied herself the opportunity of wearing her lab-coat so she supposed her pyjamas were a worrying sight. She smiled bleakly at him. “The weirdest thing happened to me, Alec.”
“What happened?” he asked her, pulling up a chair to sit beside her.
“When I went to sleep last night, I became connected to Clary. We spoke about what happened and I explained to her the Shadow World, Valentine and her curse,” she told him, “It was so strange because it didn’t feel like an ordinary dream. I can remember everything so clearly. If I can just get an audio clip of her voice, I can make sure if it was real or not.”
Alec’s brow furrowed and he cast his gaze over to the sleeping Shadowhunter. “That is strange. Do you think it’s because you were the first Shadowhunter to come in contact with her after the curse was enacted?”
Isabelle shrugged. “Beats me. You’re the one with a warlock boyfriend, not me.”
“Seelie’s a pretty well versed in magic,” Alec countered.
She shook her head, “I broke up with Meliorn two months ago, hermano.”
“I was just making sure you hadn’t secretly gotten back together with him,” Alec said, smirking.
Sending him a pointed look she asked him, “Would I ever lie to you?”
He raised his eyebrows, “Was that a serious question, Iz?”
“Whatever,” she replied, “It’s clear you don’t trust me to tell you things - even though you’re the secretive one.”
“Hey!” Alec protested, “I tell you things!”
“Are you forgetting the fact that you tried to hide a hickey from Magnus by saying that you fell – on your neck,” she said, “All the meanwhile you were pretending that you were totally not dating him even though every time he walked into a room you got literal heart eyes.”
“Alright,” Alec cut her off, a pink tinge in his cheeks, “Point made. So what’s the plan for the Fairchild girl?”
Isabelle’s gaze drifted back to Clary. Something tugged on her heart seeing Clary now that she knew what she was like awake. “The details aren’t concrete,” she said, “But we’re starting with trying to figure out who cast the curse, then we might be able to figure out how to reverse it.”
Her brother nodded, “Sounds like a good start.” His phone pinged and he quickly looked down to check it. “Magnus wants to know what time he should come to the Institute.”
“Whatever time is good for him,” Isabelle said and Alec immediately typed out a reply. “I reckon Clary is going to have a lot of visitors today so Magnus will give me a good excuse to kick everyone out.”
A playful grin ghosted across Alec’s lips, “I’m sure Magnus will be more than happy to do the honours.”
She huffed out a laugh, “Oh I’m sure.”
“You should probably get dressed though,” Alec teased.
“Shut up.”
----
When Isabelle returned to the infirmary, in her gear with a full face of make-up, Jocelyn was sitting by her daughter’s bedside. She turned when she entered and said, “Morning.”
“Good morning,” Isabelle replied, going to the other side of Clary to check her vitals. “Magnus should be coming over soon.”
Jocelyn nodded, “That’s good.”
“Ms Fairchild-“
“Jocelyn will do.”
“Jocelyn, would you have any videos of Clary so that I can hear her voice?” Isabelle inquired.
Looking suspicious, Jocelyn asked, “Why do you ask?”
“Well, I believe that my subconscious has been connected to Clary’s – last night when I went to sleep I spoke with her and it didn’t feel like an ordinary dream. Clary theorised that I might be her anchor to the real world. But to verify that it wasn’t just a dream-“
“You need to hear her voice,” she concluded. There was a pause before she said, “I’ll ask Simon. He should have something for you.”
Isabelle thanked her, and a silence fell between them. Before Isabelle could stop herself she said, “We’re not all like the Clave, you know. You can trust us here.”
Jocelyn, who had been tenderly brushing some of Clary’s hair aside, turned to Isabelle with a wry smile, “I can tell you’re not like most Shadowhunters and your brother dating Magnus is certainly a refreshing change but you do not excuse what the Clave has done, and equally what the Circle did. So, I hope you understand that whilst I’ll trust you with my daughter, I will never trust Shadowhunters. And ultimately, the Clave is who you answer to.”
“I won’t let them touch Clary,” Isabelle insisted, “She’s my patient and she’s put her trust in me to help her.”
Before the older woman could respond, Magnus waltzed into the Infirmary. “Good morning, Nephilim,” he sung, “How is biscuit?”
Isabelle explained what happened the night before and Magnus raised his eyebrows. “Interesting,” he hummed, “I wonder if that is part of the loophole you theorised yesterday.”
“Could be,” she said, “It’ll undoubtedly help us save her if we have access to her mind.”
“Mhmm,” Magnus mused, heading over towards Clary’s sleeping form, “So shall I scan her for traces of magic?”
“If you would be so kind,” Isabelle said, smiling.
He winked at her and said, “Will do, Dr Lightwood.” And with that he focused his attention on Clary, spreading out his fingers and letting blue magic softly hum around her. His eyes fell closed whilst Isabelle and Jocelyn watched closely.
After a few minutes, Magnus let out a frustrated huff and dropped his hands, turning back to face the two women. “Whoever made this was sneaky. The curse must be imbedded into her being because I can’t separate the curse from her without completely tearing her apart.”
Isabelle nodded slowly whilst Jocelyn sank further back into her seat.
“I’m sorry,” he apologised.
“Don’t,” Isabelle told him, “Thank you for coming today, I know Alec can sort out whatever payment is necessary.”
Magnus rolled his eyes, “The day I allow Alec to accept payment from me is a very grim day indeed. He’d look far too pleased with himself.”
“Then I owe you a favour,” Isabelle insisted.
He tapped his finger on his chin, pretending to think about it. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Miss Lightwood.”
“Wasn’t I ‘Dr Lightwood’ earlier?” she asked him, an eyebrow raised.
He smirked, “Of course, my apologies, Dr Lightwood. I should get back to your brother, I promised him lunch.”
“Have fun,” Isabelle said after him, a smile playing on her lips.
Once he was gone, Jocelyn said, “Now what?”
“Now…” she began slowly, “I look through some Institute files that I shouldn’t have access to.”
----
Before Isabelle even got a chance to get to the main computers, Maryse swept in and sent Isabelle out with Jace on a mission – deciding that Isabelle had spent enough time tending to ‘the Fairchild girl’.
It was late afternoon before they got back to the Institute and as soon as Isabelle and Jace entered, Simon burst around a corner and said, “I’ve got the video for you.”
Covered in ichor and grime, Isabelle blinked, not quite sure what he was talking about.
“The video of Clary,” Simon elaborated, “You told Jocelyn that you think you spoke to her in your dreams last night?”
“Oh! Of course! Show me it,” Isabelle told him as he pulled out his phone.
He shuffled up next to her and held his phone towards her to show her the screen. It was a video of Simon jumping out and scaring Clary. She let out a shriek and yelled, “Not funny, Simon!”
Isabelle’s heart panged. “So it was Clary I was speaking to,” she said softly.
Simon, who had been watching her reaction intensely, seemed to be cheered at this news. “So if there was anything I wanted to tell her… you could say it?” he asked.
She turned to smile at him, “Of course. Is there anything that you want me to say tonight?”
“Only that I love her and I’m here for her,” Simon said, his face set with determination. Isabelle felt a fondness for his mundane grow in her chest – he could make a good Shadowhunter.
----
“She’s pretty.”
“Jace, don’t be a creep,” Isabelle said with a sigh.
In lieu of a response he rolled his eyes.
“You know, just because I’m into women doesn’t mean I want to have gossiping sessions with you about them,” she said, cranky after a long day. That, and the fact that she was very unsuccessfully hacking into the Institute’s mainframe.
“What’s she like?” Jace asked, interrupting her concentration again.
Isabelle paused. “That’s a difficult question to answer.”
“I’m not expecting a paragraph, Izzy. Just y’know ‘oh she’s cool’ or whatever.”
She shrugged. “Feels a bit like over-simplifying her. I feel that she would much prefer to make an impression on her own.”
“Already defending her? You must like her,” Jace teased.
Another sigh. “I defend everyone, Jace. It’s kinda what Shadowhunters do.”
“Sure, sure,” he drawled, “Just don’t fall in love with her anything.”
Isabelle didn’t warrant this with a response. So he continued, clearly enjoying the fact that he was annoying her.
“Or do, whatever. It might actually be useful if she’s your true love – then you can just kiss her awake!”
“We don’t even know if she likes women, Jace,” Isabelle told him, trying to be patient and not give him the reaction he wanted.
“You can ask the Mundie.”
“I’m not asking Simon the sexuality his currently-cursed best friend. Also, I’m pretty sure he’s in love with her, so I don’t think it would go down all that well,” she snapped.
“I’ve never known Isabelle Lightwood to step down from a challenge,” Jace taunted, egging her on.
“Y’know what, Wayland?” she said, turning away from the computers to face him, “I’m trying really hard right now to save this girl – who, by the way, I have spoken to once. So I would appreciate it if you would leave me too it.”
Jace simply smirked, holding up his hands. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, “I’ll let you get on with your illegal activity.”
“Thank you,” she said before turning back to her work station.
“But make sure not to stay up all night – you wouldn’t want to miss your date with Clary.”
Isabelle threw a book at him.
----
The night was deepening and Isabelle’s tiredness was growing on her – but she still sat in front of the bright screens of the Institute. She wanted to be able to come back to Clary with something but all she could find was the notices that were sent out once Jocelyn had disappeared with her child.
Isabelle was convinced that the New York Institute would know more than its computers were letting on. Perhaps the files on the enactment of Clary’s curse were never transferred to the electronic database – to keep that piece of Clave history out of people’s memories, or to stop others repeating the curse.
Either way, it meant that Isabelle wasn’t going to find anything more that evening. Defeat weighed heavy on Isabelle’s shoulders as she got ready to go to sleep. She could already imagine Clary’s disappointment and Isabelle itched with nerves.
----
When the blackness disappeared again Clary could feel that a long time had passed – even if she hadn’t experienced it. Isabelle was sitting, crossed-legged, in front of her and she looked tired.
“Simon says hi,” Isabelle told her, a faint smile on her lips.
Clary felt herself smiling back, comforted by the thought that Simon was okay and near her.
“He also told me to tell you that he loves you and he’s going to be here for you,” she continued.
At this, her heart tightened. “Just don’t let him worry himself to death – because he will,” Clary warned her and Isabelle chuckled, though it sounded empty. “Are you okay?”
Isabelle dropped her gaze from Clary and she felt the edges of her vision go blurry. “I didn’t make as much progress as I should have today,” she said, her voice quiet, as if she was waiting for Clary to get upset at her.
“It’s only been one day, Izzy. I wasn’t expecting you to cure me overnight,” she assured her, trying to make her voice as sincere as possible.
She still didn’t look up. Instead, she said, “My mom hates that nickname ‘Izzy’. She thinks that it ruins a perfectly pretty name,” Isabelle said, her tone both joking and bitter.
Clary thought that Isabelle was beautiful enough to make any name pretty. “Well, Isabelle is a pretty name but I think Izzy is more you. It’s what makes it suit you.”
Isabelle finally raised her gaze, piercing Clary with an inquisitive look and Clary was desperate to know what was going on in her head. “You hardly know me, Clary,” she said, but it didn’t sound defensive.
She shrugged. “You don’t know me either but yet you’ve thrown all your efforts into curing me of this curse – I reckon that gives me a good insight into your personality.”
Shaking her head, she explained to Clary, “It’s just what Shadowhunters do. We protect.”
“I’ll admit, I don’t know much about Shadowhunters, but seeing as that Clave thing cursed me – I reckon they’re not all like you.”
Isabelle smirked at this but made no further comment, instead she changed the subject by asking, “So what happened to you when I was gone today? Anything different than the first time?”
“Not much different,” she told her, “Only this time I was aware that time had passed.”
“Hm,” she hummed, “I wonder if that’s because the first time you were forcibly knocked out or our consciousness hadn’t been connected at that point.”
Clary shrugged, “I couldn’t tell you.”
Another smirk from Isabelle and Clary was enjoying the way it looked on her lips. “I’m not much wiser on the subject, I’m just better at hiding when I’m unsure.”
Clary raised her eyebrows, “Was that an insult?”
She shook her head, her smirk growing into a grin, “Definitely not. Your blunt honesty reminds me of my brother, it’s a good trait.”
“Sounds like I’d probably bump heads with your brother then.”
Isabelle laughed, “I would love to see you interact with Alec.”
“I hope that I do one day,” Clary said.
She sobered up immediately, fixing Clary with another one of her piercing gazes. “You will.”
Clary felt a shiver run through her at the intensity of her expression. “I don’t doubt you,” Clary told her.
Isabelle smiled and a happy silence fell between them. Clary wondered how comfortable she would become in silence with Isabelle – the woman who would be her only companion for the days, or weeks, or months to come. It wasn’t like Isabelle was a bad companion to have; she was warm, welcoming, smart and easy on the eyes.
But Clary missed her family. She missed her mother’s hugs, Luke’s easy humour and Simon’s Star Wars jokes. Physically, they were so close to her yet mentally they were miles away. All she had now was Isabelle.
“Can you tell my family something?” Clary asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
“Of course.”
“Can you tell them that I miss them?”
Isabelle nodded slowly but firmly. “I’ll tell them when I see them tomorrow.”
The silence between them was now heavy, loaded with emotion. As Isabelle felt responsibility rest on her shoulders, Clary felt more helpless than before – and even though she was still looking at Isabelle, her mind was feeling fuzzy.
“Clary, are you okay?” she asked.
She shook her head. Everything was beginning to sway. She tried to talk but it was like being trapped in those dreams where none of your body parts obey you – and Clary realised grimly, that this was a dream.
Warm hands clamped down over hers and Clary felt the room snap back into focus. Isabelle’s eyes were staring at hers, concerned and slightly frightened (though the fear was better masked).
“What just happened?” Isabelle demanded, her voice gentle and soothing.
“I…I don’t- I think… I think my emotions just got a bit overwhelming,” Clary stammered, still feeling slightly light-headed.
“Tell me exactly what you were thinking about.” Isabelle was drawing circles with her thumb along Clary’s hands and she wondered if that was more distracting than her slip out of reality.
With a heavy sigh she said, “I was thinking about how useless I feel and how my family is so close yet so far.”
Isabelle titled her head. “So you were feeling lonely – or in other words; disconnected.”
“Right,” Clary breathed out, realising what Isabelle meant, “So if I feel alone, my connection with you weakens.”
“I can’t think of any other explanation,” Isabelle admitted.
“So my job is to basically not feel sorry for myself, despite the fact that I’ve been cursed into an eternal sleep?” Clary asked with clear irritation. She saw Isabelle deflate at Clary’s tone and she knew it was unfair to take out her frustration on her. “I’m sorry,” she said meekly.
“No, don’t be,” Isabelle insisted, “Clearly, bottling up your emotions is bad for our connection. So whatever you’re feeling, tell me - even if you think it’ll upset me. It’s the best way to maintain our connection if you think you trust me with these things.”
“Okay,” she agreed, “that sounds like a better plan than just being Miss Optimistic.” She paused. “And being honest with you is the least I can do when you’re out there trying to save me and everything.”
Isabelle rolled her eyes. “I told you, Clary. It’s what I do.”
“And I’m grateful regardless – so accept my praise,” Clary teased, noticing the way Isabelle’s lips twitched as she threatened to grin.
“I suppose it’s the least I can do,” Isabelle hummed.
Clary smiled.
She supposed being cursed could be worse.