A Butterfly's Dream

Note: From the start of the story to this chapter it has been a little over a month, give or take. To make sure this is clear, Clary and David knew each other in passing, as in they had the same classes but they didn’t really interact. So, a relationship between them is quite plausible. Officially, they have been dating for nearly 3 weeks, give or take.

Thanks goes to Beastie once more for the wonderous editing job and for dealing with me and my tenses (which decided to take a vacation without telling me).

“It is almost time,” Alex slowly breaths out, dark eyes turning to stare at the creatures before him. They were his master’s lower servants, nothing more than glorified assassins made from shadows and a virgin child’s blood. He had gotten rather lucky that the family that had guarded the scrolls had a child.

Very lucky indeed.

Their bodies shift with the candle light in the ritual room as Alex paces back and forth. Dark, glowing eyes follow his every move as sharp, rust colored teeth shine ever so often against the black swirls that created their bodies. Having called upon them before, Alex was used to it and knew how to translate the hissing that was their way of speaking. Once they knew what they needed to do, they just had to wait until it was time to leave.

The Gypsy brat would die and he would die very soon and Alex couldn’t wait until it happened.

Turning his head and checking the time, he smirks at the numbers that glow back at him, telling him that it was time to set his plan into motion. Turning his head back to the creatures, he glares harshly at them and hisses at finding that they had moved closer.

“You know better. It is time anyway, so leave here, kill the Gypsy Prince, and don’t forget to leave his body to be found. I will let you eat after you have done so,” he snarls, making the beings slink back into the shadows, disappearing into them as they go on their way. The promise of a chance to eat was more than enough to make them behave.

Alex had never backed out or broken his promise of a hunt before and they knew he would continue to keep them.

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Humming as he walks down the street, Clary couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he was finally free of the dreaded crutches and the leg-boot for the most part. He had finally been able to go to school, any pain in his leg nearly non-existent. He was rather lucky that when he had really gotten to know David that he only had three weeks left in said cast anyways. And his week of unable to remove the boot beyond the shower or bath was finally behind him.


David and he had had some rather nice dates in the last three weeks.

But the cards still haunt him. The promised darkness and the death that flowed around him always sent shivers of fear tripping down his spine, raising goose bumps all over his skin. He knew that things were going to get very dangerous for his clan, the guardians, and especially, David.

He was glad, on top of that, that he had finished writing the story of his people and the world they lived in. He made sure that he had written the story of the Dark one. Cliché for a name, but it worked. It was, after all, a creature of evil that had once tried to come to this world in his true form, wanting the raw power that all humans carried within them.

He could only hope that the information helped the others in the long run.

Pausing in his musings and steps, Clary looks around; his eyes taking in the shadows that surround him, watching as they play and dance, glowing in the street lamps.

Someone was there, hiding in the shadows; he could feel them. Or…was that something? He had no doubt that the clan’s enemy could call upon creatures no human should ever see. He shifts onto his good foot as he continues to look around him, a frown pulling at his lips as something dangerous tugs at his senses.

“Damn,” he mutters lightly, starting to walk once again, his hair shifting forward to fall into his eyes, hiding them from view. Clary twitches as he feels the sudden urge to call David, despite the fact that he knows his boy-friend’s phone would be off since he had a test to study for.

Giving into the urge as he starts to walk faster, Clary pulls out his phone and dials the well known number. Holding his phone to his ear, he patiently waits for David’s voice, shifting his stance just a bit as he walked.

“Hi, you’ve reached David’s phone. Leave a message and I’ll call you later on. If it’s important, call the house phone.” David’s sweet voice makes a smile flutter over his lips.

“Hey, pretty one. I just wanted to drop a line to you and say that I care about you. And that no matter what happens, I’ll be by your side in as many ways as I can possibly be,” he says into the phone before closing it and shoving it back into his pocket.

Clary stops and turns to the group of shadows before stepping into an alley, watching the shadows as they followed him. He had a feeling his time was up and the battle would once more be set in motion.

Hopefully for the last time.

Sighing as he waited for them, Clary gently caresses the necklace around his neck, thinking over what would happen after his death. His parents knew that should something happen to him, they were to give his necklace to David for protection and to help carry his memory on. David would need all the protection he could get after all.


Looking over as three shadows break off from the rest, he raises an eyebrow.

“The corrupt man of God sends his Master’s playthings to do his dirty work?” Clary sneers. “He can kill a child and sully his hands with virgin blood, yet he cannot kill a brat prince himself?” he continues, reveling in the hiss that the beings let loose.

“Why should he deal with a mere child? You are nothing to him beyond a nuisance that must be gotten rid of,” the middle being hisses, making Clary narrow his eyes.

“No matter how many of us you take out, there will always be a Gypsy Prince. Remember, plaything, we are called by the Gods to lead our people. We are not born into it,” Clary purrs gently, his eyes bright in the surrounding darkness. “Already a new one comes into life, even as you take me out of it.”

He smirks at the enraged hiss, feeling the cool shadows surround him and pull him against a wall hard enough to make his head slam against it with a crack, making stars dance in front of his eyes. Even as more shadows slip over his body, covering his chest and slowly suffocating him, not once does brat prince fight back.

He knows that his death would keep his family and friends safe long enough to get to the fight that would happen soon. Even as his breath and heart stop, only one person truly stays in his mind as his soul becomes free of its mortal bonds.

David…

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Pulling out his phone as it vibrates again in his pocket, David flips it open, making sure that it was under his desk. He frowns as the teacher continues on with the lecture, reading the text message that tells him that his mother is going to call him and it was important. Making sure that the message is cleared, he jumps when it starts to loudly ring, his mother’s picture coming up on the screen.

"Um, excuse me, it's an emergency," he says to the teacher, smiling sheepishly before getting up and walking out of the room. Pressing a button to answer as soon as he is out, he asks, “Mom?”

"David, baby, you need to be sitting down, so tell me when you are," Maria says over the line, sounding strained.

Easily finding a bench to sit down, David gives his mother permission to continue, squeezing the phone tightly as he blinks rapidly and chokes out an ‘okay’ when his mother tells him that he needs to call Clary’s parents. She continues on to tell him that it isn’t looking good. Quickly ending the call, he dials the McNamin’s number with shaking fingers, various scenarios running through his mind.

“Mr. McNamin?” he asks softly the moment that the man answered. Smiling at the voice of Saranish asking if it was him in the background, David draws up one of his legs and waits for the man to finish speaking with his wife.

“Yes, David, I’m sorry about that. Listen…we have some news. Some very bad news,” Alexander says finally, sounding sad, resigned. David once more clenches the phone tightly and shifts on the bench.

As he listens to the words coming from the strong man, hearing the tears that are evident even over the phone. He stares blankly at the gray sidewalk in front of him, phone clenched tightly in his hand.

The news that he just heard ripped at his heart, making him feel as if the world had stopped turning and he could do nothing but stare. The cement and grass begin to blur as words he cannot really hear leave his lips. It seems like it has been a lifetime before it finally sinks in and leaves him shocked to his core.

The body from the news this morning had been his Clary's.

Clary was... gone.

Just like that.

Never again would he be there to hold him.

To kiss him and sooth him from his worries as he wondered.

David's hand slips over his face, hiding his eyes from view. Sitting there, trying to hide from the world, he loses track of time, only twitching when Edward clears his throat and speaks in a soft tone.

Looking over his shoulder, eyes glassy, David swallows as the light glints off the bikes nearby, watching as Edward puts his hand onto his shoulder. Edward smiles softly and holds out a bottle of tea to the smaller male. Taking it, David smiles back and shifts enough to make room for his friend.

“Who was it?” Edward asks as he sits down next to David. He had seen David leave in the middle of the class, his phone pressed tightly to his ear as he nearly ran outside so he didn’t disturb the various classes.

“It was my mom. She told me to call Clary’s parents,” David replies as he opens the bottle. Taking a sip of the sweet tea, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair slowly. “I just got off the phone with Mr. McNamin. They, uh…that murder that happened last night and was covered by the news this morning…it was Clary they found.”

“Clary?” Edward breaths, his eyes growing wide in surprise.

“Yeah. Apparently he was, uh…strangled to death. They don’t have any other clues beyond that. It’s as if…his chest and throat were constricted by something really big,” David explains, his voice soft as he blinks several times. “He left a will behind, and his personal effects that were on him will be returned to his parents tonight. His body will be…um, released to the funeral home. They expect that the funeral will be in a week and a half.”

“Wow,” Edward breaths, rubbing his hand over his face with a sigh. “So, what else? I can tell there is more to the story.” David nods and takes another sip of his tea before putting the cap back onto the bottle.

“Yeah, they’re doing the will-reading tonight. I was asked to attend. Apparently there are a few things left to you, Markus, Rachael, Mitchell and me,” he finally says. Rubbing his neck, he sighs and blinks against the tears that sit in the corner of his eyes. “Is it supposed to hurt so much?”

“It can,” the black eyed twin soothes, pulling the smaller male close, running his fingers through his soft hair. He ignores the tears that wet his shirt, letting his friend grieve for a lost friend, boyfriend, and possible lover.

“But why does it hurt?” comes the sniffled question as David pulls away from his friend to look up at the other.

“It shows that we care, that we feel,” Edward replies quietly, brushing bangs from red rimmed eyes, smiling sadly at him. “Do you want to skip out for the rest of the day? Mom has it set up so Markus and I can leave whenever we want.”

“Yeah, my mom called me off so I can go home and take a shower, amongst other things. Do you really mind leaving so early? I know Markus is in the middle of a test,” David says, shoving some of his hair back out of his face.

“He should be done by the time we finish grabbing your homework from the rest of your classes,” Edward replies, standing up and holding out his hand out to the other. With a small, sad smile, David takes the other’s hand and allows him to tug him up off the bench. Wrapping his arm around David’s waist, Edward leads him towards the various classes that they had to gather homework from. David, unable to carry himself as well as the weight of the news, clung to his friend as tightly as he could.

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