Disclaimer: SOME of the dialogue in this chapter, all characters (but Grace and Philip), the main story line and settings belong to Cassandra Clare. Everything else like the rest of the writing and my own characters belong to me. I do not own The Infernal Devices as they belong to the brilliant and fantastic mind of Cassandra Clare.

***********************************************************************************************
'Did you have to hit me, where I'm weak? Baby I couldn't breathe
And rub it in so deep, salt in the wound like your laughing right at me.'

- Bad Blood, Taylor Swift
***********************************************************************************************

Grace sat in the carriage, keeping an eye on the sleeping Miss Gray but also wandering her own thoughts in her head. What happened at the home of the Dark sisters had unnerved her slightly. They knew her for one thing which should have been impossible. She could remember to this day the conversation she had with Charlotte and Jem a few weeks after they had arrived from Shanghai...

-*-*-*-*- Charlotte -*-*-*-*-

"I've had a letter from the Council," Charlotte told the twins who sat in front of her. She was still struggling to look them directly in the eye even though they had been at the Institute for three weeks now. The boy, who was the elder one by twenty two minutes she was told, had the look of pure exhaustion in his eyes but a glint of hope and happiness coming from within. It hurt her to see the pain he had gone through and was still going through but made her feel oddly child-like at the same time.

The girl was a different story. Her eyes just looked shattered, liked someone had smashed the insides of her like glass. Charlotte had got to know her, little by little, in the past few weeks as she tried to wheedle information from her. She hadn't talked to anyone at first, only to her brother when she was sure they were alone. She seemed like she was always on edge, petrified all the time and, what took Charlotte a while to figure out, underneath it all she was ashamed of something. As for what she was petrified of, Charlotte had read the Silent Brother's report to know that it was of herself...or what was inside her.

"Have they made a decision?" James Carstairs asked, staring intently at her. He was still so fragile and weak but his spirit was strong.

"They have, James," Charlotte replied. She was slightly worried about how they would take the news. Grace had been under investigation for a while since the Silent Brothers learned of what the demon Yanluo had done to her. Nephilm are too proud, she thought. They were debating the life of a young, tortured girl because they thought she "damaged" the Shadowhunter's pure and angelic race.

"They aren't going to strip her Marks," Charlotte explained. Jem relaxed at that news. "They have taken your report into account, James, as they have with my observations of your sister over the past few weeks. However, they have decided on a different course of action."

"What could they possibly want?" Jem exclaimed. "She has suffered enough."

"They have made two demands," Charlotte said, picking up the letter that was on her desk. "Number one: she must not make any acquaintances with any kinds of Downworlders, even half Downworlders." That was obvious. They didn't want the knowledge that their "pure" bloodline had been tainted by demons, like a Downworlder themselves, because to the Clave, Shadowhunters were meant to be better than Downworlders.

"How can she do her job if she's not allowed to do that?" Jem asked, his silver eyes burning with rage. "She can't not make contact with Downworlders, it's simply impossible in this world."

"The letter actually says she can't make friends or acquaintances but not that she can't contact them for business reasons. Although if I were you, I would stay away entirely," Charlotte countered. She then carried on. "The second demand is that she must have two sessions weekly with a Shadowhunter named Philip Blackthorn."

"About what?" Jem inquired suspiciously.

"He's apparently got experience in dealing with Shadowhunters who have had some sort of influence by demons and are...struggling. He's a psychiatrist of sorts," Charlotte said. Shadowhunter's prided themselves in knowing about mental health when normal mundanes didn't. Charlotte shuddered the thought of what that mundanes do to the people they called mad. "I've never met him but I've heard of him. He's helped his own brother actually, which is why he's now working in this job for the Clave."

"I know of him," Jem said. "But this is nothing he's ever dealt with. Grace doesn't need a psychiatrist. I'm helping her just fine."

"But you're her brother, Jem," Charlotte said gently. "She needs you as a brother, not as a doctor."

"When is he coming?" Grace whispered, almost too quietly for Charlotte to hear. It was the first time Grace had ever spoke in front of her, so Charlotte was almost too shocked to respond.

"In a week, from Idris," she replied. Grace nodded. Jem took her shaking hands in his own.

"Write a letter to the Council," he told Charlotte. "Tell them we accept the conditions. Hopefully they'll leave her alone now."

***

"Miss Carstairs?" Thomas said. "Miss, we've arrived." Grace took a moment to gain her bearings and clear her head. They had arrived back at the Institute where she saw Sophie and Charlotte standing in the doorway.

"Grace," Charlotte said, obviously relieved. "Thank goodness you're back. Where's Will and Hen-" She broke off when Thomas emerged from the back of the carriage with Miss Gray in his arms. "Who is that?"

"This is Miss Gray," Grace explained tiredly. "The Dark sisters were holding her captive but unfortunately there was a battle and she struck her head. Will and Henry are back at the house, cleaning it out."

"Sophie, Thomas, help Miss Gray to a room inside, please," Charlotte ordered. Sophie ran to Thomas and helped him get Miss Gray up the steps. They soon disappeared.

"Grace, there's something bothering you, isn't there?" Charlotte said. She skipped down the steps, putting an arm around Grace's shoulders. "Come inside, let's talk about it."

***
Grace had told Charlotte everything that happened, excluding the medallion but mentioning the Magister. She retired to her room to change into something more comfortable. Then, she took a quick nap which was the only sleep she'd had in twenty-four hours then pulled out one of her drawing books from underneath the bed.

A few years ago, Philip had said she needed to find a way to not be so closed off. Later that night, Jem had come back with Will after they had finished their patrol and had given her a sketch book. He said to her: "Drawing is a way of expressing your feelings through art. Draw your hopes, your fears, your emotions. Draw what you think about people and what they mean to you. Open up this way, and you will not need to explain yourself."

After that day, Grace had accumulated sketch books for all kinds of things. Some she had for significant events, others she had for expressing her feelings towards different people and some she used to draw her nightmares and fears. Now, she pulled out that book from under the bed and began to draw the medallion around the neck of what she thought the Magister looked like. About halfway through the sketch, she stopped and tore out the page, frustrated that she couldn't get her message across. She screwed it up and threw the paper at the wall angrily.

"Well, that was violent," Jem said from the doorway. Grace looked up, a little surprised that Jem came in so silently. He looked a little more pale than she would like and his hands were shaking slightly, making her feel on edge already.

"Can't get it right," she said, ripping away her gaze.

"What is it you're trying to draw?"

"Fear."

Silence.

"Charlotte sent me to come and see you. She said that you're a little out of sorts," Jem said after a while.

"It's nothing," Grace said. Jem stood for a moment then sat on the edge of the bed next to her.

"Everything is something," he said quietly. "Come on, Grace. Let's not do this again." Grace sighed and looked at her hands.

"The Dark sisters said something about the Magister wanting to kill me for...well for it," she said. "I just- I don't want to hurt anyone, Jem and if this Magister gets it then he will hurt someone and it will all be my fault."

"Oh Grace..." He picked up her limp hand gently. His touch was comforting. "Charlotte did fill me in on this," Jem said thoughtfully. "I just wanted to see what you would tell me. Is that what you were trying to draw?"

"How do they know anything about me?" Grace asked, ignoring Jem's last question. I've obeyed the Clave's wishes and I have never contacted any kind of Downworlder. They are going to blame me for this, Jem."

"Secrets have a way of getting out, Gracey," Jem said. "But for now, don't worry about it. I'm sure-" Suddenly Jem doubled over and started coughing violently, each wave racked his body painfully. He slumped to his knees on the floor, a pool of blood collected in his hands as Grace held his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Gracey," Jem said as she found a handkerchief and knelt in front of her brother, wiping away the blood from his mouth and hands. She was trying to ignore the necklace on her neck glowing green, telling her that Jem was in pain.

"Not your fault," Grace said, shaking her head. "Come on, let's get you back to your room. You need to get some rest if you're going to make it to dinner tonight." She helped him up then walked him the two metres that separated the doors to their rooms.

"I would stay," she said as they arrived. "But I'm going to watch over Miss Gray for a while. I've got a feeling..." Jem nodded.

"It's all right," Jem said, opening the door. "But if I see any red, I'm going to find you." Grace nodded, watching Jem shut the door behind him.

Red.

Her least favourite colour, even more than green.

The colour that caused her so much pain.

As Grace crossed the corridor, she fiddled with the crystal pendant that hung on a silver chain around her neck. Jem had one exactly the same as hers. The Silent Brothers had a warlock make them for them after the attack on the Shanghai Institute. The warlock had taken a small lock of hair from each child's head and had melded them with the pendants. Grace had the one with Jem's hair and vice a versa. Grace could now know whatever emotion Jem was feeling by the colours the crystal turned. Jem could tell hers also.

Yellow-gold meant happiness. Blue was sadness. Orange: nervousness or worry. Pink: love or caring. Black was fear. And the two colours Grace hated the most: green and red. Green meant pain and red meant anger. The pendants were made solely because, at the time, something had to be done to keep an eye on her. Only Jem was able to calm her down then. To a certain extent Will could also now but the point was, they needed to know if she was going to have an attack.

Grace shook her head, clearing away her thoughts and knocked on Miss Gray's door. Charlotte answered it, looking slightly flustered. "Oh, Grace," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Yes, I've recovered," Grace replied a little more harshly than she wanted. She softened her voice. "I've come to help you with Miss Gray."

"Thank you, Grace," she said, sounding relieved. "I was just told by Thomas that Henry and Will are back so I must speak with them." She hurried down the hall as fast as she could.

Grace entered the dark room, collapsing into the armchair by the bed. Miss Gray lay asleep but tossing and turning fitfully. She mumbled names now and again, calling out for certain people though Grace knew none of them. Around her neck was an angel, ticking away against her chest. Grace reached out for it, thinking that Miss Gray may break it in her sleep but as soon as she touched it, a blinding white flash shot through her mind. Grace gasped, falling to her knees and jerking her head to the side. It was like a searing hot knife had been thrust into her head, burning at her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut until the pain went but the ringing in her ears was still there.

What was that?

A burst of light flooded the room. Grace looked up and found Will kneeling by her side, his lips shaping words that she couldn't hear, a panicked look on his face. Grace didn't know where the words came from, but she started murmuring something insensible:

"Angels hate me, Will. They hate me." He pulled her arm around his shoulders and scooped her up, carrying her out of the dark room and into Jem's. She just had time to see the flash of green and Jem's worried face before blackness swallowed her.

***********************************************************************************************
Bit of a longer one for you guys today. What do you think is happening to Grace??? Also I think this chapter was boring so sorry...:(

So I have a few questions for you guys because I need a bit of help:
1) Is Grace too unlikeable??? I'm trying to make her seem distant to everyone but I'm not sure if it's working.
2) Would you like some different p.o.v.s??? I feel like writing in Jem or Will's p.o.v but kinda depends idk.

So anyway thanks for reading, love you all!!!!!