Isaac had to admit that a part of him was scared of telling Clary the truth about the Circle. Through everything they had been through in the past couple of days, he had seen the anger that she held for the lies that the people she cared for told her. He could see the affects they had on her, and he hated it.

That was his sister. He had been lying to his sister – his biological sister – for years, without even knowing it. Maybe that was something they had in common. Both of them had been lied to for their whole lives about who they were, but they were so different as well. Isaac wasn't being lied to anymore, about anything, and still he continued to lie to his sister (his sister!) because he was selfish, even if he didn't want to believe it.

Magnus and Isaac walked into the room where Clary sat, looking into the other room that held an unconscious Luke with sadness and guilt, only peeking up when she saw the two arrive.

"Tell me what?" she finally asked them, "What's so important that Luke risked his life?"

"Everything Jocelyn hoped to hide from you," Magnus vaguely told her, taking a sip from his freshly poured glass as he shot a look to Isaac, who ignored him.

He snapped his fingers and a sketch pad appeared on the table in front of the redhead. "Why?" she asked.

Magnus sighed, "When you were younger, I'd watch you sketching. It was your bliss. You're gonna need some bliss now."

Isaac felt guilt creep inside him, taking a grip on his heart and warping around his soul as he took in every word that Magnus said. He didn't get to see Clary grow up, not really, he didn't get to see her when she was six or eleven, drawing up monsters on paper. It was just another thing he missed out on when he was stuck in Beacon Hills because Jocelyn (mom) wanted to protect him.

Clary stared at the pad, the pencil, everything about it. "Back then, there wasn't a day I didn't draw. It was like breathing. Now, I look at this blank page and I barely even know what to do."

She took a deep breath before continuing, "Sometimes I feel like my art, my memories...my life, it...it all vanished with that Memory Demon."

Isaac walked toward her, raising a hand onto her shoulder to comfort the girl, wishing he could know how it felt. He could smell the sadness radiating off her, but he truly couldn't know what she felt. Their lives were so different growing up. She had memories taken from her when he wished they would be taken from him.

"Your art, everything you are...they're all still here," Magnus told her with great emotion, "You're the woman your mother always knew you could be."

"But tried to keep me from being."

Magnus' eyes flickered away from the siblings for a split second, "That's why you need to know how you got here."

"Will it help me find my mother?" Clary asked. She only had one thing she wanted to find, not her memories, but her mother. The only person that had always been there for her from a young age, and Isaac could smell the desperation from her.

"That's the only reason I can think of why Luke would be so adamant," Magnus said.

"I'm ready," Clary sighed, looking straight into Magnus' cat-like eyes, "Bring it, warlock."

And then the story began.

"When I first heard about your father, around the time he and Jocelyn first got together, long before the Uprising and the Circle, Valentine elevated the Morgenstern name to be synonymous with virtue."

"And Jocelyn was always at his side," Isaac broke in, adding more information about the time. It pained him to say 'Jocelyn' now, knowing that that woman was his mother as well.

Magnus could practically see the flashes running through his mind, the memories of those dark times haunting him, and Isaac could smell the sadness and anger off him.

"But by the time my people came to know him, barely two years later...his name had become synonymous with devastation," the warlock paused, "Your mother told me it was then she first saw the signs."

The High Warlock of Brooklyn explained more of what happened with Valentine and how he began to spiral. "They never found all the bodies. We'd all stood with the Clave for centuries."

Clary stopped drawing for a moment, something she picked up doing once Magnus began to talk about the past. "How could that not matter to him?"

"He was obsessed with ensuring purity of blood," Isaac told her, "Convinced that the impurities were a threat to peace."

"He was the threat to peace," Clary bitterly spoke about her father, not knowing that the same feeling of hatred that burned inside her also burned inside Isaac.

"Mad men rarely make sense," Magnus took another sip of the alcoholic beverage in his hand, "Mostly, they just hate."

"And he hated the Downworlders," Isaac went on from Magnus, "for the gifts that they possess that he could not have. He hated them enough to kill them all."

Clary shook her head with a grimace on her face, "Ever since my mother was kidnapped, and the Shadow World invaded my life, so many Downworlders have helped me, not even thinking about what it might cost them. How could Valentine not see good in any of them?"

"He was blinded by his ambition," Magnus told her, and Isaac nodded, disgusted that that killer was his father. The man that helped create him and Clary.

"Why didn't the Clave stop him?"

Magnus sighed, looking at his drink before taking another sip, "He was clever."

Isaac could see how hard it was for him to talk about the subject, so he took up saying the rest. "He and his followers, they managed to convince the Clave that the Downworlders they killed on their special missions had violated the Accords in some way."

"Complete fabrications," Magnus added.

"How could the Clave not see?" Clary asked incredulously, hating everything about her father more and the Clave. They were supposed to be good, they were supposed to protect, but they had destroyed so much.

"Shadowhunters believe in the Law as absolute," Magnus said, "They could never conceive of one of their own going astray."

Clary chuckled, "My father didn't go astray, Magnus...he went insane."

Isaac's eyes flicked down. He went insane. Valentine did, and that scared Isaac. He had always heard that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, most everyone told him that, and he hated it. He didn't want to be like Joseph Lahey, and he sure as hell didn't want to be like Valentine.

"What happened back then is happening again," Magnus said with sudden anger, bubbling inside him at the topic. They could all understand why, they all had that anger inside them as well. "The Clave refuses to believe that Valentine's a threat.

"Nineteen years ago, their lack of vision allowed the Circle to almost decimate the entire Shadow World," Magnus spoke.

"That was the Uprising?" Clary breathed, searching Magnus' face as he stared down at her and Isaac held her hand, squeezing on occasion.

"Yes," Magnus answered, "Valentine wanted to create a new Shadowhunter army."

"And for that, he needed the Mortal Cup," Isaac spoke, "He knew it would be on display at the signing of the Accords as a show of the Clave's power."

"He seized the opportunity to accomplish everything he ever wanted," Magnus said.

"Destroy the Accords, murder Downworlders, and secure the Cup," Isaac listed with a bitter taste in his mouth.

"How could my mom and Luke be a part of something like this?" Clary asked with anger, a new found hatred growing for her mother as she continued to hear the story – no, the truth.

"Jocelyn and Luke tried to prevent the Uprising," it didn't feel right to Isaac to call his mother Jocelyn, "They tried to change Valentine's mind about Downworlders."

"Obviously, they didn't."

"Clary, if it wasn't for your mother and Luke," Magnus paused for a moment, "the Circle would have won."

There was a sharp silence for a moment as Clary turned away and to the sketch, a burning still growing inside her for her mother and Luke. "Ever since I found out Valentine was my father, I wondered how my mother could be married to someone like that...and why she stayed."

"She had to stop him. And safeguard the Cup," Magnus said.

"Everything Jocelyn did, she did to save the people she'd sworn to protect," Isaac said, knowing that he was even talking about himself. He was even saying that when Jocelyn sent him away, it was for the best. He knew it, he knew it in his heart, but it still hurt to realize...to accept. "She took her oath as a Shadowhunter seriously."

"I understand, but how does that help me find the Cup?" Clary asked them.

"Maybe Luke thinks if you know your mother better, you'll where she hid it," Magnus suggested, not knowing the answer himself.

"Then, tell me why she gave up being a Shadowhunter," Clary demanded in a cool tone.

"Because the one thing in the world she loved more is you," swords found their way into Isaac's heart as Magnus said those words, knowing that even after he was born, she still stood with being a Shadowhunter. Even after having the suspicion of Valentine, she stayed with him and didn't try and protect her son – sons. "She had to protect you."

Clary sighed, "From my father, the lunatic."

Then, they heard it. From the other room, they could hear the groaning and churning of Luke as he continued to deal with the pain of the alpha bite. And guilt stirred its way into Isaac's heart.

"Luke," Clary breathed, hastily putting the sketch book down before rushing to his side.

"The magic's wearing off," Magnus spoke quickly, mostly to himself as they saw the body of Luke.

"It was our fault. It was our fault," he muttered, and Isaac wanted to argue, to try and tell him that it wasn't, but it wouldn't matter. Luke wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Luke!" Clary gasped at the sight of him, lifting up one of the bandages, "It's worse."

Magnus then used his magic, covering Luke's body, watching it freeze, calm down, but he had to continue, he couldn't stop as Luke wouldn't calm down.

After a while, he spoke again, "I'm running out of magic."

"What do I do?" Clary asked, her eyes wide as she looked back between Luke and Magnus.

"I can't leave him, but the potion stock still needs Komodo scale." Magnus spoke, stopping and starting as he tried to channel his magic, "Find it, add the rest when they get here. You'll have to feed it to Luke."

"What about you?"

"I'll hold on as long as I can," Magnus saw that she still wasn't moving, "Go!"

Luke continued to groan as Isaac pushed his way to his mentor's body, taking his hand into his, and watching his own veins grow black as he took the pain. It was worse than before, the pain was flooding into him, pooling and infecting the younger werewolf more and Isaac wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on. It wasn't even to his elbow, but it continued to grow harder for him to hold onto Luke's hand and take the pain, the blubbering pain, the venom that spread into Isaac, and he felt himself let go.

His breathing became heavy. Isaac watched his veins return to normal, but he could still feel the venom, like he had been bitten himself, and it was more painful than anything he had ever felt. It was more painful than the scratches of those of the alpha back that once rampaged his 'beloved' hometown, hurt more than electrocution, but it wasn't just the venom. He wasn't just taking the physical pain of Luke Galloway, he was taking the emotional pain as well – the things he never spoke about and let it hurt him anyways. And that was more painful than anything that could peel his skin or break his bones.

Isaac didn't even realize that Alec had arrived and was helping Magnus, or the fact that Clary's two suitors (Simon and Jace) had also come back. No, his focus went to helping Luke again, no matter the price for himself.

The werewolf from Beacon Hills grabbed onto Luke's hand again, taking the pain again. Feeling all of those hateful thoughts Luke had for himself and his time in the Circle, feeling all those times he felt like he had betrayed his friend by having feelings for Jocelyn, and the pain he felt when he thought that Isaac had the other forgotten Fairchild sibling died. When Isaac's twin – his twin! – burned, like they thought Isaac did, or made everyone believe he did as they sent him to Beacon Hills.

But then it was over. There was no more pain to take as Clary dripped the potion into Luke's mouth, and everything went calm, he was alright. Isaac, like Magnus, slumped back, Isaac falling into his sister's arms as she held him, cradling him with love as he breathing slowed and everything stopped spinning.

He closed his eyes, never wanting to wake up as he let the darkness take him to sleep...

Fire. When he opened his eyes, looking into his dream, he first saw fire. He saw burning and heard the cries of someone else. Looking around, he saw another boy, young, small, crying out, hitting against the window.

"Mommy! Daddy!" the young boy cried, hitting against the window before turning around. "Jonathan! Where are you?"

Then, the cries. Cries from yet another came from another room in the burning house, that continued to blaze, scaring the young boy that Isaac could clearly see. "Jonathan!" the blonde, curly-haired boy yelled, coughing slightly.

"Jonathan!" the only response he received was crying, "Jonathan, calm down! Crawl to the sound of my voice."

There was a silent pause before he could hear another, "I'm scared, Isaac."

Isaac...Isaac...Isaac. It clicked! This was him! This was Isaac as a young boy...inside a burning house, why a burning house? What was going on? Why didn't he remember this? He remembered this, he was in a burning house with his brother...with Jonathan.

"I know, Johnny, but just listen to my voice," young Isaac tried to sooth his brother (his brother!), "Just crawl towards me as fast as you can."

"Okay," he heard the other brother (his brother!) yell back at him. He could hear shuffling from the other room, and then screaming.

"Jonathan!" he screamed loudly, his eyes widening with fear as he didn't get a response. "Jonathan! Please, no!"

No response. No response. Nothing. Jonathan, oh God, Jonathan. Isaac could see his younger self freeze, shock winning over as he ran to the door. Burning immediately came as he touched the knob, he seethed before returning to touch it again, wanting so desperately to open the door.

"Johnny, please! Tell me you're alright!" but the boy got nothing. Only met with silence in return did he slump down, not caring if he was burned as well. He just lost his other half – his brother, his twin.

"Johnny...I'm so sorry," he cried, "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. I failed...I'm sorry."

But then it happened. His window opened and his mother appeared, looking around with frantic eyes before softening as she saw her first son. "Isaac," she breathed, running over to him and picking him out and embracing him.

He cried into her, "I'm sorry, mommy. I failed."

Jocelyn let go of her son's face to look at him in confusion, "What do you mean, Isaac?"

"Johnny...I told Johnny to crawl into my room, but he...he didn't make it," he shook his head, "I heard him scream...and then – and then nothing, mommy, I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright," Jocelyn began to cry as well, bringing Isaac into another hug, "It's alright."

And then the scene changed, but it was only days later. Jocelyn was holding onto Isaac tightly, muttering 'I love you' in his ear as he watched Luke look at him in sadness.

"Mommy," young Isaac said, looking at his mother with confusion, "I don't understand, what's going on?"

She cupped his face, letting go to wipe the tears that fell from her face. "I'm sorry, sweetie, I'm sorry. But it's for the best, I promise you it's for the best."

"I don't understand!" he wailed, "What do you mean? What's happening?"

Jocelyn hated it. She had already lost one child, she had already lost Jonathan, and she was saying goodbye to her other son. But she had the child inside of her, and she would protect it – no matter the cost. She couldn't have a funeral for another child, she wouldn't allow that to happen.

The woman looked Luke, who went to her, draping an area around her shoulders and sighing. He had to nod, because it was for the best, no matter how much he didn't want to say goodbye to the young boy he loved like his own child.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but...but you have to go away," she tried, "You have to leave."

"No, no, no! I don't want to, mommy, I don't want to leave!" he screamed, "I don't want to leave!"

Jocelyn began to shush her son, bringing him and nodding. "I know, I know you don't, honey, but it's for the best. Yeah, yeah. You're going to stay with this amazing couple, and they're going to look over you. They've got a pool for you to swim in, and a young boy who'll be just like your brother."

Isaac shook head, "I don't want another brother, mommy, I want Johnny!"

"I know, sweetie, I know," she sighed again, cradling him in her arms, "But it's for the best, I can't protect you from him anymore, you have to go away. I'm sorry."

And then it all stopped as Isaac woke up, gasping for air as he felt himself raise, looking around as he laid on the couch that Luke used to occupy. He looked around to see Magnus sitting on the chair beside him, holding a cup of tea with a blanket wrapped around him.

The warlock gave him a small smile, "Good, you're awake. Gave Clary a fright when she saw what happened."

"Yeah," he paused, hearing his heart beat race inside his chest, "I just...gave a little too much."

Magnus nodded, taking a sip of his tea, "Alec helped me, the only reason I can actually move around. But the only thing is...I'm still puzzled about what you were doing."

"I, uh, I was taking his, um, pain away," he gulped, "Helped take some pain, that's all."

The warlock nodded again, motioning to a door, "They're in there, by the way, if you want to join them – Luke and Clary, I mean."

Isaac shook his head, he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to see Luke again, not after the memory he had just seen of his earlier days, and Clary...well, he never felt like facing her after learning the truth about his origins. The lies, they were entangling and sometimes he wondered if he ever told them truth anymore, or what the truth even was.

"I don't – I don't want to see them, not yet," he confessed to the warlock, the only one he was able to talk to about his problems, apparently. Magnus knew everything as well, or he knew enough. Isaac didn't have someone to tell everything to, there was no one who had been through everything Isaac had. The Lahey (Fairchild) boy was alone in such a lonely world.

But he did tune in his supernatural ears to the conversation happening inside the room that his sister and mentor were in.

"Who is 'JC'?" he heard Clary asked Luke, and his feeling dampened even more, remembering the time that Clary asked him and he had to lie to her...again.

"I want you to remember your father could be a good man," Luke tried to stop from answering the question.

"After what he did to you..." Clary trailed off, and he could tell that the redhead was shaking her head.

"This is worse, Clary," Luke tried to warn her, not wanting to answer the question at hand one bit.

"I don't care!" Clary roared before sighing, calming herself down, "Luke, I want to know, I...I need to know. You said so yourself. You have to tell me everything."

"'JC' stands for Jonathan Christopher...your brother," Luke spoke, and confirmed that the dream Isaac had was truly a memory.

Clary gasped, "I have a brother?"

"You did...you had two, actually. They were twins. They died in a fire at Fairchild Manor," there was a dark pause, "A fire that your father set."

Isaac could hear Clary gasp again as a pain filled his chest, suffocating him with the truth. He had a brother – he had a twin! Valentine killed a part of him, and he would pay! Oh, Lord, would he pay!

"That's it," he heard Clary murmur, "That's the ending of the story that my mother needed me to hear, but...is that what she meant to unlock? He did I do that?"

How did I do that? The question...it made sense to Isaac as to what Clary did. It was the same thing she did the day of her eighteenth birthday, where the biscotti went into the sketch. The story, a story that involved him, helped unlock it for real.

"There are Shadowhunters that have unusual Angelic Powers, but I've never seen anyone do what you just did," Luke explained to her.

"Can these powers be inherited?" Clary asked, and Isaac was already mentally answering. Yes, Clary, you detective you! Your mother can do it to...well, our mother since I'm your brother.

"I think so."

And then, Clary chuckled softly as she uttered the words that she whole Shadow World had been wanting her to say for eighteen years, "I know where my mother hid the Cup."

•••

dedicated to allisonsargent for her new guide of how to get by. i love it and it's amazing, you should all spread positivity and love!

question of the day,
favorite ice cream flavor?

answer of the day,
bubblegum or cotton candy