12

"Jem? Will?" Charlotte called, walking down the hall to Will's room. Having already checked Jem's, she didn't know where else they could be. They certainly wouldn't be awake- they were too young to have really adopted the whole 'rise with the sun, sleep when the job is done' schedule bit Shadowhunters were expected to follow. After all, they were only twelve.

Knock knock knock.

There was no answer, so Charlotte carefully pushed the door open.

Will's room was empty, sheets cold and tucked tightly as if they'd never been slept in. There was gear strewn all over the floor, intermingled with books and dirty laundry. Wrinkling her nose in disgust at the mess, Charlotte shut the door.

"Henry, where could they be?" Charlotte called in exasperation as she approached her husband. He was standing at the training room door with a fond smile on his face.

"See for yourself," he grinned, gesturing inside.

Curious, Charlotte peered into the training room and felt herself sigh. "Oh, aren't they sweet..."

Jem and Will were curled up in the corner of the training room, facing each other. Both were on their sides, and Jem's head was resting just below the hollow of Will's throat. They were so close together that their legs were almost intertwined, and between them, their hands lay clasped together palm to palm, like a prayer.

This was the first time since they'd arrived that Charlotte had seen either boy willingly stay this close to another person.

Charlotte knelt close to the two of them and shook Will's shoulder.

"Will. William. Wake up," she murmured, reluctant to disturb the peaceful scene.

Both boys stirred at the sound of Will's name, and Will yawned just as Jem slowly opened his eyes.

"What is it, Charlotte?" Will drawled in the same bored tone he gave everyone but Jem.

"Time for you two to wake up," she replied, smiling when Jem blinked several times at the sun streaming through the windows, like a little kitten opening its eyes for the first time.

In an almost simultaneous movement, the boys sat up, scooting away from each other slightly.

"Sorry Charlotte," Jem yawned. "We must have fallen asleep during yesterday's training."

"I can see that," Charlotte said, trying to sound stern. "Don't let it happen again, okay?"

"Okay," the boys chorused.

As Charlotte walked away, she heard Will yawn again.

"You cannot be tired," Jem said incredulously. "You slept all night."

"How do you know? How do you know I wasn't awake, Jem?"

"You snore."

Charlotte had to close the door to hide her sudden laugh.

13

It was almost a year before Charlotte found the boys like that again when they were supposed to be doing something else. She had caught them in the same room countless times, but they were much better about getting up early now, so she ignored it.

It was a quiet day at the Institute when Charlotte arrived at the library door, meaning to do a little research on a particularly rare demon that had been roaming the streets. It was much too advanced to send a couple of young teenagers after, no matter how skilled Will and Jem may be. She would have to go herself.

When the old door creaked inwards on its hinges, Charlotte's attention was snagged by something in the corner of the room.

She could already see the dark and the fair hair nearly touching on an old sofa by a bookshelf. Upon closer inspection, she saw that Jem was leaning, still semi-upright, against the arm of the sofa, head resting on his folded arms. Will was curled up beside him, long legs sprawled all over the sofa and head on Jem's leg. There was a book laying open, face-down on Will's stomach.

With the tiniest creak of the floorboards, Charlotte peered at the spine of the book.

A Tale of Two Cities.

It was open to about a quarter of the way through, as if they'd only been at it for an hour or so before falling asleep.
She plucked it off Will's stomach with deft fingers and marked their page with a scrap of paper.

Charlotte began to walk away to the other end of the library, walking carefully so as not to wake them. Turning around slightly, she looked at the boys.

She really did love these idiots. Truly, she did.

Sure, Will was infuriating, rude, and sarcastic and Jem let Will get away with murder and was maddeningly introspective, but she could overlook all that.

They were both smart, brave, wonderful young Shadowhunters from very broken pasts, and she loved them like they were her little brothers and her children rolled into one.

As she stared, thinking, Jem opened his eyes. He didn't see Charlotte, but instead looked at the top of Will's head with what can only be described as pure fondness. Smiling sleepily, he ruffled Will's dark curls lightly and slipped an arm around his shoulder, once more drifting off.

Charlotte left the library. There would be other days to get research done, but the boys may not get very many lazy, safe, comfortable mornings. She'd let them enjoy their book.

14

William Herondale was a sullen, moody, and generally rather unpleasant teenager. Charlotte tried to be patient with him, but he could ruffle anyone's feathers with that sharp tongue of his.

Except Jem's, it seems. Jem never raised his voice to Will, or reacted with anything beyond mild exasperation or flat-out boredom. In turn, Will was slightly gentler with him- sarcasm and harshness tempered with little smiles and affectionate tones.

However, at the breakfast table without Jem present, Will was a terror.

Jessamine and Will were arguing again, and Charlotte had her head in her hands as she tried to tune them out.

"Charlotte!" Jessamine squawked angrily. "Will just insulted me in a different language and he won't tell me what it means!"

"Will, stop insulting Jessie in Welsh."

"It wasn't Welsh!"

"Then what was it?"

"Mandarin," he grinned proudly.

"How'd you even know that word?"

"Jem said it to me during training when he thought I deserved it, so I tackled him and pinned him to the floor until he translated." Will looked exceedingly smug, as if tackling his much slighter parabatai off-guard was something to brag about.

Jessamine gave a derisive, shrill laugh. "Surprise, surprise. It's always 'Jem this' and 'Jem that'. If I didn't know the two of you were parabatai, I'd say you were lovers."

Will opened his mouth to protest, expression stormy, but a calm voice from the doorway beat him to it.

"Flattering, Jessamine, but Will's not my type. I prefer someone who can keep their temper when out of my sight for ten minutes." Jem slid into the seat beside Will and fondly cuffed him upside the head. "Honestly, Will."

"Jem, I wasn't expecting to see you this morning," Charlotte said, offering him a plate. "How are you feeling?"

"Well enough to be up and around," he replied, politely refusing the food she pushed towards him.

Will, who had simply been looking at Jem in thinly veiled surprise until now, spoke up. "Decided to grace us with your presence, hmm?"

"Hardly. I could hear you and Jessamine bickering from my room, and decided to make sure you weren't getting into too much trouble."

Will bristled. "I don't need your help staying out of trouble."

In response, Jem only smirked. "Then I came to get you out of Charlotte's hair. Come on."

He dragged Will out of the room and down the corridor, leaving behind Jem's untouched cup of tea and Will's cleaned breakfast plate.

Charlotte sighed in relief and pushed her chair back from the table. She needed a break, she decided. She would start the boys on a new training exercise and then let herself relax and read over the letters she'd been meaning to answer for days now. 

This plan went fine until Will made a biting comment about her relationship with Henry, and Charlotte, suddenly overcome with emotions, fled from the training room to drown out the humming of her mind with work.

It was hours later when she realized how unnaturally quiet the institute was. Looking up from her work, she saw with a start that it was already late into the night- she'd worked through meals and hadn't encountered a soul. Standing and stretching from her chair, Charlotte walked down the hall, pressing an ear to the training room door. There was no noise coming from within, so she leaned away from the door and- 

Wait.

Was that a cough?

Charlotte hesitated with one hand on the door's handle before slowly pushing it open, wincing at the sharp creaking of the old hinges. There, sitting cross-legged in the same corner she'd caught them in years before, was Jem. Will was sprawled across the floor with his head in Jem's lap, inky curls spilling everywhere. 

Jem, who had looked up like a startled deer at the creak of the door, offered her a small smile.

"Nightmares," he explained in a whisper. "It's been three years since... well. Since he left home." A tiny smile flirted with Jem's mouth as he looked down at the Herondale in his lap, absentmindedly stroking his hair. 

"He's really not as bad as he makes himself seem, you know. I do not know why he does it, but he must have some reason."

Charlotte surprised herself by whispering back a soft "I know."

She'd meant to tell Jem to go to bed, or ask why they were in the training room, or tell Will off for his earlier rudeness, but now, faced with Jem's expansive kindness and concern and love for his Will, she couldn't bring herself to do it. 

"I think he just needs someone to hold on to," Jem added, "When he gets scared like this."

"You think he reaches out for help when he's scared?" Charlotte couldn't fathom this arrogant boy asking for help. She could barely process how young and vulnerable he looked now, with only Jem as a protector.

Jem's smile was a bittersweet, crooked little thing when it came after a moment's pause. "Don't we all?"

Charlotte had no response to this but to turn and leave, pretending not to see the gentle kiss pressed to wild curls or the smile that cut through fitful sleep in response. 

15 

Fifteen proved to be a funny age for Will and Jem's relationship. They were still as close as ever, still spent nearly every waking hour in the other's presence, but something had... shifted. Will now went out of his way during training to do something ridiculous or funny or even just noticeable whenever Jem happened to be paying attention. Jem was sneaking little glances at Will as if he had never seen him before, and looking determinedly away whenever Will would return the glance.

Then, one day, it just stopped. They went back to normal- even closer than before, if that were even possible. If anything had changed, they had become more physically expressive; a gentle touch on the shoulders, a brush of hands in the hallway, an embrace that lingered for perhaps one second longer than it should have.

Charlotte was guessing it had something to do with the morning she'd seen them curled up together in Jem's bed, hands laced and foreheads touching, hair a mess. She knew the law- this was grounds to get them separated for good, but...

Love came in all forms, and the Clave was just too small-minded to see it. She would let the two of them be in love for as much time as they could possibly steal from the clock. She cared about them too much to sell them out to the Clave for something as harmless as acting on the feelings that had been palpable in their interactions since they'd been twelve. 

(Also, if Charlotte was honest with herself, seeing them lying tangled up and disheveled from their own passion was pretty damn cute. They deserved to be happy.)

16

By this point, everyone had simply accepted the fact that if you wanted to involve Jem or Will in something, the other was automatically involved. They came together, and it was an unspoken agreement that if Jem was too sick to carry out a mission, Will would try his level best to delegate it to someone else so that he could stay behind and look after Jem.

This often worked. But when it didn't... the result was often a minor disaster.

"Will, this simply cannot be ignored any longer. These demons have to be tracked down and killed now. If we cannot take care of it, the Clave will have our heads," Charlotte nearly pleaded, all sense of dignity flying out the window in her desperation. 

"And I guarantee if you send us out tonight, Jem will be badly injured, sick, or dead when we get back," Will shot back. "He's not well, Charlotte. Oh, he'll pretend to be if we need him to, and he'll go on this suicide mission if you ask it of him, but he is tired. He is in pain, and he needs to rest, not chase after some horde of slobbering demons in the dead middle of a London winter!"

"This can't wait!" she exclaimed in response, feeling horribly guilty. "I'm sorry, Will, I really am, but this group has been going after mundanes for weeks now! There may be bigger powers at play here. We need information, and we need it now. Go find your parabatai and gear up." Charlotte drew up to her full height- which was not terribly intimidating, but she could use all the help she could get- and stared straight at Will.  

"And if I refuse?"

Charlotte set her jaw. "Then I'll go ask Jem, and you will be the one that let him take this so-called 'suicide mission' alone." 

Will glared at her and left the room without another word, stalking off down the hall towards Jem's room. Charlotte swallowed a scream before it could leave her throat. Jem and Will both had a stubborn streak a mile wide and a fierce protectiveness of the other, but Will's would be his undoing. She just hoped it wouldn't be tonight. 

A few moments later, Will and Jem stepped across the threshold into the library, both armed and dressed in full gear. 

"Let's hear it," Jem said simply, running a hand through his hair absentmindedly. He truly did look unwell, Charlotte noted guiltily, but he had geared up without complaint and was standing here ready for the information about the mission. 

Her 'fragile', 'delicate', 'sickly' ward was more of a Shadowhunter than half the Clave ever had been or would be. 

"A demon horde has been attacking major population clusters in England, especially targeting hospitals, schools, orphanages, the like- anywhere where they might catch weaker individuals off guard. Based on movements, and their past attacks, tonight should leave them headed for this town," she said, pointing on the map spread out of the table at a town about fifteen miles north, "and whatever vulnerable group they can find. Try to intercept them and kill all but one. Get information if you can, but if you can't... eradicate the group."

The boys exchanged a look she couldn't decipher and nodded. "Anything else?"

Charlotte shrugged apologetically. "It's pouring rain and most of the demons are likely poisonous."

"Brilliant," Jem sighed. "My favorite combination."

"Hey, at least you've got good company," Will teased, elbowing him in the ribs.

Jem rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "I think I'll stick with the poisonous demon horde." 

The boys continued to bicker all the way to the front door of the institute, Charlotte following them to the threshold. Jem threw a coat at Will's face, shrugging his own on with practiced ease. 

"Put that on, we've a long cold journey ahead of us," he said, flicking his own dark hood up. It was indeed a startling contrast with the silver of his hair and unnatural paleness of his skin so close to the black fabric. Will put the jacket on with no snarky comment, much to Charlotte's surprise. They both pulled the heavy doors open and started out into the downpour. 

"Come home safe," Charlotte managed. She still disliked sending them into dangerous situations alone- if she had it her way, she'd keep them home, safe and warm and out of harm's way for a little while. But fate seemed determined to throw obstacles at these boys, so she watched them go down the stairs without another word. At the bottom of the staircase, Jem turned enough to raise a hand in farewell before disappearing into the mouth of the darkness. 

Too unsettled to work, Charlotte slipped into bed beside Henry and closed her eyes. 

The boys cornered, back to back, as the demons closed in on them. Both of them exchanging a look before they crumpled to the floor under the weight of so many claws and teeth.

Will's eyes staring at her accusingly over Jem's body, face as pale as paper but chest heaving and stained with blood.

The boys barely making it to the gate before collapsing to the ground, unnaturally still but wrapped around each other, even in death.

Will returning alone.

Demons chasing them home, forcing both of them into a fight they had no energy for. The gate closing, closing, closing, but one demon springing through and-

Charlotte woke up and sat bolt upright with a gasp. Standing and throwing on a dressing gown, she stepped into the hall. Surely it was just nerves- the boys were fine. They had to be. She'd know if they were in trouble, somehow.

Too rattled by her dreams to go back to sleep, she made her way to the dining room. It was some ungodly hour of the morning, Sophie would not be up yet, but she could make herself a cup of tea to calm herself down.

As she fished in her pocket for the witchlight and finally got the room illuminated, she was greeted with a sight she had not dared hope for.

Her boys were home. Arms folded on the table and heads atop them, so close together that fair and dark hair seemed to bleed together. There were two half-finished cups of tea not far from Will's head, and both of them were sound asleep.

And, more importantly, breathing.

For that moment, any possible injuries or mission failures did not matter the slightest bit. They were home and safe and asleep.

Will and Jem. Jem and Will. This was a fact- you could not have one without the other. And you could count on them to be together.

However, Charlotte couldn't help the incredulous question that slipped from her lips.

"I know you must be exhausted, but really? The dining table?  Don't you two have rooms?"

17

The entire hallway had fallen under a hush that was broken only by fits of coughing and pained gasps from behind the heavy wooden door. Jem had been horridly ill for nearly two weeks now. He'd pleaded with them not to worry, not to fuss, it was just the chill sitting badly with him. Charlotte had bought this excuse until he had been unable to even get out of bed for three consecutive days. Then, forced to deal with the grim reality of the situation, she had called for the Silent Brothers.

They had not been optimistic about the odds of Jem pulling through this episode, and warned her in advance that goodbyes might be prudent if he did not start to heal very soon.

That had been four days ago. Will had not left his side since.

Jem had been slipping in and out of fever-induced hallucinations and periods of unconsciousness, coughing violently when he was awake and shaking when he wasn't. His breathing was labored and shallow, fever dangerously high, and body racked with tremors and shakes he simply couldn't help. 

Charlotte stood outside his door now, scared to look inside. 

"Will?" she called softly as the door swung inwards. "Dinner is ready. Are you going to eat?"

Will didn't answer. He had one of Jem's pale thin hands clasped between both of his, and he was crying steadily.

"Jem... please, come on, you have to get better. For everyone. For me. I need you, Jem, like I need air in my lungs. Come on, James, please... Not yet..." Will begged, still crying unabashedly and acting as if he had not heard Charlotte.

She was just about to call his attention again when Jem stirred slightly, silvery eyes opening with great difficulty as he surfaced into another lucid moment.

"Will?"

"Oh, thank God," Will sighed, choking back a sob as he kissed Jem's knuckles gently.

It felt wrong to intrude on such a private scene, but she couldn't bring herself to turn away.

Jem murmured something, too low and indistinct for her to hear, but Will instantly moved in response, slipping into the space beside Jem and pulling the shaking boy to his chest. 

"I love you. I love you so, so much James. You need to rest and get well again, okay?"

Jem nodded weakly, shifting to fit perfectly against Will's body and looking up at his face sweetly. He gave a tiny, tired smile, and Will bent his head just slightly, closing the minimal space between them and capturing the little smile in a kiss.  

"I love you."

"And I love you."

Jem's eyes fell shut, breathing deepening just slightly as he slipped into perhaps the most peaceful sleep he had been able to have in some time. Charlotte gave them a moment to adjust to their situation before clearing her throat awkwardly. Will looked up quickly and his expression contorted into a rare one of genuine vulnerability. 

She could tell his mind was racing with excuses for what had just occurred, but she required no excuse or explanation. This was simply a fact of life in the London Institute- Jem and Will. Will loves Jem. Jem loves Will. They were a duo, nearly one entity after all this time.

"Are you coming to dinner?" was all she said.

Will gave her a grateful smile. "No," he murmured, looking at Jem's sleeping form. "No, he needs me right now."

"I think, Will, that it would be safer to say," Charlotte began gently, closing the door behind her as he left, "that the two of you need each other. You always have, and I think you always will." 

A/N: I am so sorry for the long gap between updates! Between being extremely busy (read: stressed) and not feeling all that great mentally or physically, I didn't get around to writing as much as I would have liked. Thank you all so very much for your infinite patience and all the wonderful encouragement and feedback. You're all wonderful. Review/vote/etc., you know the drill. <3