By The Angels (PJOxSH)

9

Clary watched the boy across Jace's shoulders intently as they walked back to the Institute. Isabelle and Simon returned after a few tense minutes of silence, they had lost Valentine's trail pretty quickly, but Clary knew it wasn't their fault. But she was certain now that everything was connected. The murders, the dreams, her father, and Nico: all of them were definitely linked, but she just didn't know-how. 

The Shadowhunters took up a basic formation as they walked the streets back to the Institute, Clary unwilling to create a portal back due to Nico's injuries. Alec lead, followed by Jace (carrying Nico) and Clary side by side, with Isabelle and Simon in the rear. 

Nico had protested to being carried, but after failing to walk even a few yards, Jace had not so graciously put Nico on his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Jace had gone to grab Nico's sword, the strange black blade drawing in the shadows, when Nico tossed it away with near abandon. Simon let out a startled yelp as the blade flew through the air, but there was never the clang of metal against concrete. the blade just seemed to fall through the ground and into the shadows, ceasing to exist. 

"What did you just do?" Alec asked caution and confusion in his tone. He investigated the spot where the blade had vanished, but there was nothing there. 

"I don't want you touching my stuff... I put it away." Nico muttered, unable to do much more than hanging limply.

Clary almost wished she could give him an iratze, watching him wince if Jace bumped him or took a particularly big step. But then again, she knew that his injuries were the only thing keeping him from running off again, but it still bothered her. She never got to do her shift watching the young teen, but apparently, he wasn't the most friendly to deal with either.  Now she also knew he was skilled enough to fight off Valentine while injured, even for a short period of time. She couldn't think of many people who could.

Jace suddenly shifted Nico, and the boy spat out a harsh phrase in another language, a romantic language from what Clary could tell. 

Jace glanced down as the boy muttered spitefully under his breath, "Do I have to wash your mouth out with soap? That was really rude," Jace complained and the boy scowled.

"Good for Golden Boy, you know Italian, now I'll just insult you in English," Nico snapped. 

Clary watched the exchange with mild interest, finding it hard to be amused with how fast her mind was reeling as she tried to connect all the dots. 

"Clary, you okay?" Simon asked, jogging up beside her from where he had been walking with Isabelle, glasses bouncing against his nose.  

Clary smiled softly in an attempt to ease his worry. she wondered if she should tell him about her dreams and her worries but immediately made a different decision. She should tell everyone and figure out what a weird 14-year-old had to do with her father's return.  

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 Nico was glad that he wasn't thrown into the barrier prison again, instead, he was brought to their infirmary, white curtains separating the beds, each clearly unused for a while, except his. He had also been handcuffed to the bed by Isabelle if he remembered correctly. He saw a not-so-subtle exchange of glances between Glasses and her, something he wished he hadn't seen. 

"Ok, I appreciate not getting thrown back into weird prison, but why am I handcuffed to the bed?" Nico decided to ask into the room, slowly gaining his bearing after the fight. It had been draining, but mostly physically. He could definitely hold out for a while longer, as long as he didn't do anything stupid and got some nectar in him. He could practically hear the vial in his pocket, Will's voice demanding him to drink it.