[ It takes the pressure of gauze on her face for her to realise the reason she can't see is because everything is red. That alone would make her lose herself, but she can't get a breath long enough to react. The pain squeezes at her lungs, her heart, and it's like her veins are ready to burst. Every inch of her is flayed open and alive, it seems like forever, it feels like death itself has stuck the pinprick of claws into her skin and she'll never ever escape it.
Seconds pass and her muscles seize up. She's not aware of it. She's not aware of anything really. There's blood in her mouth, blood in her ears, blood. Magnus' dream of their anhilation seems like a silly, reckless fantasy compared to this. This real and excruciating pain.
The seconds tick. Fifteen and her nails have torn her palms to shreds. Twenty and her back arches as she writhes with the fire of organs shutting down. Twenty-five and she's wishing she died just like Jonathan, just like her grandparents. And then all of a sudden it's over. She knows because she can breath, because she inhales with a cry, the agony flooding back in and the blood stuck in her throat. Clary gags as she moves as fast as she can, wretching bile over the side of the bed. She only narrowly avoids Jack's shoes. ]
My stele. [ Her voice is rough, her hair matted with blood even as she tries to push herself upright. Fingers scrabble at her jeans pocket but she's crying now, silent tears falling down her face. Her thoughts spin around the same circle. Mommy, it hurts. ] I need --. I need --.
no subject
Seconds pass and her muscles seize up. She's not aware of it. She's not aware of anything really. There's blood in her mouth, blood in her ears, blood. Magnus' dream of their anhilation seems like a silly, reckless fantasy compared to this. This real and excruciating pain.
The seconds tick. Fifteen and her nails have torn her palms to shreds. Twenty and her back arches as she writhes with the fire of organs shutting down. Twenty-five and she's wishing she died just like Jonathan, just like her grandparents. And then all of a sudden it's over. She knows because she can breath, because she inhales with a cry, the agony flooding back in and the blood stuck in her throat. Clary gags as she moves as fast as she can, wretching bile over the side of the bed. She only narrowly avoids Jack's shoes. ]
My stele. [ Her voice is rough, her hair matted with blood even as she tries to push herself upright. Fingers scrabble at her jeans pocket but she's crying now, silent tears falling down her face. Her thoughts spin around the same circle. Mommy, it hurts. ] I need --. I need --.