"Izzy, you ready? We were supposed to debrief with Alec five minutes ago."
Fuck, Izzy cursed. There was no way she could go on a mission like this. She could barely think straight her head was pounding so hard.
It had not been this bad in the beginning. This incessant illness that felt like she had a stampede rolling through her stomach was not new. It had started a week or two ago with an upset stomach that progressed rapidly into full-fledged sick. Izzy had never been this sick before in her life, and she could have gone her whole life without knowing it.
Maybe she had caught something from LA? But that had been weeks ago, and besides, it wasn't like Shadowhunters could catch mundane illnesses.
In the beginning, she had tried using her runes to fix things. A couple of iratzes here, a few there, but they didn't work. Not that they were useless, but for some reason, she could not activate her runes. Every time she ran her stele over them, or tried to draw one, it felt like someone had leeched the life from her bones. That, and for some strange reason, the sensation would burn, and Izzy had long since been numb to the burn of carving runes. She must have been more exhausted than she thought.
Exhausted and forced to suffer through this the mundane way, aka the hard way.
"Go on without me," Izzy managed to call, cringing at how weak her voice was. It took all her energy not to projectile vomit between words.
The knob jiggled, and Izzy hung her head. Couldn't she just be left alone?
"Come on Iz, let me in. You're scaring me."
Izzy didn't have enough energy to even be mad when an unlock rune burned across her door, the wood creaking open to reveal a very worried Clary. One look was all it took for the redhead to understand what was going on. Meanwhile, Izzy kept cursing herself. She had tried so hard to keep this illness to herself, and had done everything she could. But, she supposed she was bound to get found out at some point.
"I thought Shadowhunters didn't get sick?"
"We don't. Not usually."
Clary knelt down in front of Izzy and pushed her dark hair carefully out of her face. Clary's hands were cool and smooth, unlike the sweaty palms Izzy had grown used to having. It was nice, Izzy thought, to have someone take care of her. She could get used to this.
"You're not, you know, craving anything?" Clary prodded gently, but Izzy was too out of her mind to pick up on her meaning. "I don't know if you've been spending a lot of time with Simon or Raphael..."
Oh. That. Any other time and Izzy would have been offended, but if she were in Clary's shoes, Izzy would have probably thought the same thing. She had to look a complete mess: sweaty hair, shaking, and puking her guts out. A perfect picture of Yin Fen addiction.
"No, nothing like that," Izzy assured, patting Clary's hand gently. "I must have just run into something nasty. Or maybe it was something I ate."
"I knew the meatloaf last night looked a little grey," Clary joked, more for Izzy's sake than her own. But they had both eaten the same food, and only one of them was sick. Still, it was the only explanation Izzy could think of as to why she felt like absolute shit. Days upon days of food poisoning...completely logical...
"Come on, let's get you in bed," Clary said after a moment, pulling Izzy to her side and helping her back under the covers. The Institute's bed was too firm, not meant for reclining and relaxing, and Izzy found herself missing a large California king with black silk sheets. Odd - she hadn't thought about that night since she came back from LA, but the memory of that plush mattress was enough to keep her back from aching under the rock that was her own.
"I'll let Alec know you're tapping out of this one."
"Thanks Clary," Izzy said weakly, already drifting off. "Don't tell Alec about this, please. I'll be fine in the morning."
"I'll try, but you know how he gets," Clary replied with a smile, and Izzy huffed. She loved her brother, but his overprotective nature could be a bit overwhelming. "Feel better."
Izzy was asleep by the time Clary shut the door.
... _ ...
Izzy did not feel better in the morning.
In fact, she felt worse. The mornings were always the worst. The nausea rolled off of her in waves, and she expelled more contents of her stomach than she thought she had. It was impressive, how much she could throw up when she hadn't fed herself all day. She would have thought she would feel better once the sickness had passed, but no. The dizzying nausea and the bone-deep tiredness remained. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and be miserable on her own, but people would notice. Shadowhunters had already started to notice her absence from yesterday. If she missed any more days to this 'illness', they would start to talk, and one thing you never wanted was to be the topic of conversation.
It took every fiber in Izzy's being to get ready. She forced herself to get dressed, to put on her makeup, to brush her rat's nest of hair and brush her teeth to get rid of all the signs of sick. There were circles under her eyes so dark that even foundation couldn't cover them, but some things Izzy had to let go. It was easy enough to pass that off as a bad night's sleep than nearly two days of violent illness.
Once she was satisfied that she looked a fraction of her normal self, Izzy marched her way into Alec's office where she knew that at this time of day everyone would be congregated.
"Hey, what did I miss?"
"Izzy, good of you to join us," Alec said, eyeing her up and down. Izzy knew that Alec meant nothing malicious behind that, but he never had a good poker face. She could tell he was assessing her for damage, trying to figure out what was wrong without asking. "We were just debriefing about yesterday's mission."
"Well, don't let me stop you."
There was a moment where everyone looked at Izzy and Alec and held their breath. Izzy was waiting for Alec to say something - he always said something - but thankfully he let it go, waving his hand for Jace to continue.
"Demons have become more active in the recent week. We keep finding outcroppings of them, and not the usual suspects either," Jace said, pointing to the red blinking spots on the map behind him. "They've been moving, creeping further into the city. It's almost like they're searching for something."
"The ones we fought last night were unlike any demons I have seen before," Clary commented. She looked shaken, her green eyes wide and fearful. "They were smart and fast, like they saw us coming. And they could speak...they said such terrible things. It took everything we had to fight them off. Whatever they're looking for can't be good."
"Could you describe these demons?"
Clary's eyes widened a fraction and she shook her head. "It all happened so fast...I don't think I even remember what they looked like."
Jace's arm came to wrap around Clary, holding her close to his side in comfort. Alec's lips pursed in a thin line as he considered this information.
"We'll up the perimeter, put more people on patrol, instate a curfew. No one should go out alone, not until we have this whole demon situation sorted," Alec decided, using his no-nonsense tone. It was so easy for him to slip into the role of leader, to forego emotion and let his brain take the lead. Izzy always admired him for that, even when she was irked at him.
The group all nodded their heads, agreeing with the new protocol. It was terrifying to think that there were demons - not even greater demons - out there with advanced intelligence. Clary was right: whatever they wanted could not be good.
Jace and Clary left the room, probably to go cuddle or something ridiculously cute that Jace would vehemently deny if asked. That left Izzy face to face with a very concerned Alec. His hazel eyes, narrowed beneath thick brows, spoke everything his mouth didn't.
"I'm fine, big brother," Izzy asserted before Alec could get a word out, crossing her arms over her chest. Even with her chest puffed up and her highest heels on, Izzy stood nearly a foot shorter than Alec. It made establishing her dominance hard, but Alec always was a softie at heart. She watched, pleased, as he let out a sigh and his no-nonsense self gave into her will.
"Okay, if you say so."
"I do say so," Izzy repeated, but kinder this time. She smiled at Alec and sat at the edge of his desk, peering across at his schedule. "Put me down for a couple of those patrols while your at it. I want to help."
"Are you sure? As weapons master you'll have your work cut out for you here."
"I'm sure. Just let me know when and where and I'll be there."
Alec shot her one last glance before penciling her in on the schedule. Izzy felt a surge of victory come over her...along with a surge of fatigue. It was almost as strong as the surges of sickness. She tamped down her internal panic and the voice inside her roared not now! to the rest of her internal organs.
When Izzy looked back up, she found Alec looking at her curiously. Shit.
"You know you can talk to me if there is something going on."
"I know," Izzy said, her smile gentle and the tiniest bit sad. She hoped Alec didn't pick up on that part. This conversation had been going so well. She hopped off of his desk and sauntered to the door. Before she left, she called over her shoulder, "Love you big brother!"
... _ ...
The night of her first patrol, Izzy's whip was being stubborn.
Her nausea was bearable, the fatigue a new normal, but her staff was the problem. Usually all she had to do was think about her staff and the bracelet around her wrist would uncoil until a cool metal shaft rest in her palm. It was bad enough that her necklace had started to fritz out on her; now, no matter how hard she willed it, her staff remained a serpentine piece of jewelry.
She was about to throw it across the room.
Fine, Izzy thought, frustrated beyond belief. I'll just pick a different weapon.
It wasn't a hardship, really. She had been trained to fight in nearly all the weapons in the armory. It was just that her staff was her favorite; it was what she felt most comfortable with, and after the weeks she had been having, comfort was a must. Now she would be forced to run around with a dagger or some throwing stars or a garrote.
A rack of seraph blades were the closest, so that was the weapon she would use. They weren't her favorite, if only because she preferred something more agile, but a blade would do the job just fine. Plus, it didn't require any kind of shape-shifting.
As soon as her fingers touched the hilt, the blade lit up a bright red.
Not white, not even a soft yellow. Red.
Izzy dropped it as if it had burned her.
All her life, seraph blades had glowed white for her. She had never heard of any Shadowhunter making one turn red. She didn't even know that was possible, or how it was possible, or why it was happening at all. All Izzy knew was that she was terrified.
Just as she was about to touch it again, hoping and praying that was some kind of celestial mistake, a head poked around the corner.
"Ready to go?" Jace asked, completely unaware of what just happened.
Thank the Angel Izzy was the only one to witness that. She had no explanation for it, not a single excuse. And then trying to convince someone not to report her to the Clave. There were plenty of Shadowhunters at the Institute who did not agree with her beliefs, that still judged her, who rooted for her to be deruned for consorting with Meliorn, who condemned her for supporting her brother in his relationship with Magnus - a male Downworlder. To lock her up in Idris for something like a red seraph blade...that would be some of her peers' dream.
However, it almost would have been worse to have someone like Alec or Jace or even Clary witness that atrocity. She didn't want their concern, nor their pity. She was strong. She could handle this on her own.
There was no way she could pick that seraph blade back up. So, she reached for the next available option: a pair of dual knives, much like the ones Clary used except these were meant to be wielded together. They were elegant, they were deadly, and best of all they did not glow.
"Ready when you are," Izzy said with a smirk, trying to inject as much sass as she normally would. She must have hit the mark because Jace smirked back.
... _ ...
In retrospect, Izzy should have known that things were only going to get worse.
She should not have signed up for patrols, she should not have insisted everything was fine, and she should not have left the bed. Because winding up in the middle of a dark alley, Clary bleeding out in her arms, and Jace fighting off two of the most terrifying demons Izzy had ever laid eyes on was not what her newly-feeble body had the capacity to take on.
"Do something!" Jace screamed in Izzy's direction, slashing his seraph blade at the smoky figures that had literally come out of nowhere.
He meant do something about Clary, who was paler than usual and gasping in pain. Her right side had been slashed open by devastatingly sharp claws. There was so much blood. So much. Izzy knew that an irtaze would fix this, but the moment she tried to activate her rune, she nearly blacked out. So, she was stuck pressing on the wound, hoping and praying that Jace could take these demons apart before Clary bled out.
The attack had been meant for Izzy. One of the demons had pointed a bony finger in her direction and shrieked, kill the girl! in a voice as terrible as nails on a chalkboard. Izzy had frozen, her entire body struck in panic, and had Clary not physically knocked Izzy to the ground, she would have lost her head.
It was supposed to be a normal patrol. The demons were not mapped to be this far inside the city, not yet. But there they were, sinister frames blending in with the shadows of the night, making it impossible to tell what was demon and what was concrete or dumpster or mundane.
Izzy felt helpless. Her hands were covered in blood, none of her runes would work, and her heart was beating a million beats per second. She was a useless Shadowhunter. She was going to get them killed.
But she was still a hunter. And she still had deadly aim.
With a final burst of energy, she pulled out her dual knives and threw. She let reflex and years of training take over, the blades flying from her fingertips into the shadows ahead. The demons, who were so focused on cutting down Jace, did not have time to prepare for another attack. The blades lodged in their abdomens, their cruel, beady faces scrunching up in screams as they imploded into fire and ash.
Perhaps she was not useless after all.
Exhausted, Jace fell to his knees and used his remaining energy to heal Clary, drawing iratzes on her skin over and over and over again, only stopping when he saw her skin start to knit itself back together. He was covered in scratches, bruises, and blood of his own. And he was enraged.
"What is wrong with you!" Jace snapped, and Izzy flinched.
He didn't mean it. Of course, he didn't mean it. He was stressed out and worried about Clary, whose breathing was evening out now that the iratzes were working. She would be fine, given they got her back to the Institute soon. Izzy was relieved, the loss of her worry a physical freedom. She fell back against the alley wall and let her head fall between her knees, one worry replacing itself by another.
What is wrong with me, she asked herself, tears stinging at her eyes. She had almost let Clary die. Why? All of these things that had been happening, what did it mean?
Izzy looked up to see Jace looking at her, Clary standing close behind, miraculously healed. All the anger from before had faded, his gold and blue eyes nothing but tired...and worried. He should have been making sure Clary was alright. Instead, he was looking at Izzy like she was the one who needed help. And maybe she did.
"You okay?"
Izzy shook her head, a tiny jerking motion, but it was enough. Jace sighed and reached down, pulling Izzy up from the ground.
Jace held Izzy close to him as they walked back to the Institute, Clary keeping careful watch so that no more demons could sneak up on them, though she too looked like she would drop at any second. Izzy was grateful that her legs were able to hold her upright, that her knocking knees and trembling frame didn't collapse to the ground and refuse to rise. Jace would have picked her up and carried her home if that had happened. That, Izzy, knew for a fact. For all his tough exterior, she could sense the worry pouring off of him, could feel the rapid pound of his heart and the fine tremors in his own hands as he clutched Izzy's shoulder. He was just as scared as she was, but she bet they were for different reasons.
Izzy should have been relieved to see the Institute. She should have felt peace walking up those stone steps and pushing open the large cathedral door.
Instead, as soon as she stepped foot across the threshold, all she heard was the wail of sirens.
A/N: Hello loves! So glad that there was such a positive response to the first chapter! This story is more heavily Izzy-focused than Lucifer-focused, so we are going to be following her for the majority of the time. But don't worry, Lucifer will be coming back! I'm not entirely sure if in canon mundanes and Shadowhunters can reproduce, but for the sake of this story, they cannot. That is my explanation as to why Izzy was so blatantly ignoring safe sex practices and not using protection while sleeping with a total stranger. Obviously, for the sake of this story, angels - even the fallen ones - and Shadowhunters are able to reproduce.