Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He lay in bed, staring into space, the darkness reminding him of pure perfection, of long hair as black as night, of chocolate brown eyes that always shined bright. Of her…Isabelle. His Izzy. He remembers her, but he doesn't. He remembers her crying, and lying with him in bed, her lips on his. He remembers her smile, her laughing at his silly jokes, her voice. But he does not remember the adventures. The fighting, the injuries, the blood. He does not remember being a vampire, having the Mark of Cain burning on his forehead. Them sacrificing everything for each other. But the worst thing is that she remembers. She remembers what happened,  what they went through together, that she loved him, and now she has to start all over again with him. Oh, even she doesn't know how much he wants to remember more about her, about himself, about everything.

She stood in the training room, staring at a punching bag. She was trying to focus on practicing, but her mind was on a certain dark-haired dork. Simon.
She punched the bag hard with her right fist, making it sway a little. Simon-
Punch
Lewis. That stupid little-
Punch
-boy. She'd had boyfriends before, obviously. But he was-
Punch
-different. He actually-
She punched the bag with all her might-

liked her. He was-
Punch
-caring. He hadn't dated her because she was pretty-
Punch
-but because-
    The bag broke and dropped to the floor. Isabelle stood, panting, with her fists clenched. Because he loved her.
    And she, Isabelle Lightwood, might have even loved him too.
    Her eyes narrowed and she stalked out of the room. She peeled off her clothes as soon as she was in her room, and stepped into the shower. She stood still, letting the cool water run over her skin.
    When she was done, she shut off the water and went out to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around her body. Looking out the window, she realized that it was already nighttime. She pulled underwear and a long, worn out T-shirt out of her drawers, and got dressed. She pulled back the covers, then stopped, staring at the bed. She didn't want to be alone tonight. The bed suddenly seemed too big, too empty. After a minute, she decided. She opened the door and silently walked down the hall to his room. She knocked quietly, but couldn't hear anything through the thick wooden door. She took a deep breath and opened the door.
    "…Simon?" She whispered.

Chapter Text

“ Simon… ?” She whispered.

The room was dark, with only a faint glow of light coming from the window, and the sliver of light from the hallway. The window was open, and Isabelle shivered, remembering that she was only wearing a t-shirt.

Inching her way into the room, she approached the bed, where she could hear snores emanating from the boy. Spying a witchlight on the bedside table, she picked it up and let light seep through her fingers. She couldn’t help but smile when she saw him; glasses askew on his face, a comic book still clasped in his fingers. Gently, she pulled the glasses off and placed them on the table, and reached for the comic.

Isabelle froze when Simon stirred, rolling over onto his side and grunting, leaving the comic book on the bed. Curious, she picked it up, reading the title in the faint light. As she had suspected, it was a stupid, brightly-colored drawing of a scantily clad woman surrounded by dragons.

She tossed it away and ignored it, focusing all of her attention on Simon. She lightly placed her hand on his back, wishing that he could see her. Suddenly, she realized what she was doing.

She had snuck into his room, late at night. She was watching him sleep, wearing only a shirt and underwear. Wouldn't he find this kind of creepy? She knew she would.

She pulled her hand back, instead gripping the bed with both hands, and looked down at the floor. When she had convinced herself that she had to go, she looked up and froze at the sight of Simon staring at her sleepily.

“Hey,” he whispered, “what are you doing, up so late?” Isabelle fought the blush that threatened to creep onto her pale skin.

“I, uh…I can't sleep. I-” her voice cracked and she let go of the bed, turning away. I miss you.

“You do?” Simon said, surprised. Crap , Isabelle thought. She must have said it out loud by accident. Well, it was the truth, and she wouldn’t take it back anyway. She nodded, trying to regain her cold, hard exterior. She heard movement and turned around to see Simon on the other side of the bed, looking at her. He blushed.

“If you-I mean, you  said...you know, I didn’t really know...if you want to, I mean…” She chuckled and slid under the warm sheets, letting her hair fan out on the pillow.

Simon was momentarily breathless, as he was every time she was near him. But now...now they were closer than they had been in a long time. And yet, somehow, they were farther apart than they’d ever been. She was one of the only memories that he had retained, but only physically. He would always remember those dark eyes, the beautiful hair, her face. But he could barely remember her laugh, or smile, or even just what she looked like when she was sleeping, or fighting, or doing anything. He wanted to be like the Simon he was before, and he knew that he wasn’t how he used to be. He had been what she wanted-a vampire, a fighter, maybe even a little handsome. Not the insecure, nerdy, immature person that he had turned back into.

He almost connected with Clary better, as they still had some of the same interests, but her time at the Institute had changed her. SImon always felt himself wishing that this had never happened, that he and Clary had lived their lives together, whether they dated or not; he never would have had memories to forget, or a possibility that he would lose them. But then he never would have met Isabelle, and Clary never would have met Jace. He remembers that he used to always have a crush on her, but now he just feels a strong, but friendly connection to the redhead.

As much as he thought about it, the more he decided that he couldn’t have lived a normal life with Clary. She was a Shadowhunter, it was in her blood. She only got involved because she had to. Suddenly he felt a rush of guilt for all the times that he had ever blamed Clary for involving him in her world. Sure, it had been far from great for him, but he was the one that got himself turned into a vampire, not Clary. In fact, she’d never told him the story of that night.

“Hey,” Simon said suddenly, “Could you tell me the story? Of the night of the party.” Isabelle blinked, surprised and a little wary. Wasn’t she supposed to wait until he got the memories back himself? His pleading eyes begged him to tell him, just one memory. What harm could it do? The corner of her mouth turned up as the memories of that night resurfaced.

“So we went to Magnus’s party,” she started. Simon’s immediate smile of relief and gratitude proved that she had made the right decision in telling him. “You were miffed because I had let Clary borrow a dress.” She smiled fully now, eyes twinkling. “You were so protective, saying that there was no way she could go out in a dress that short.

“But she wore it anyway, and we went to the party. Obviously it was all decked out, with all sorts of Downworlders. The place was filled with them-faeries, werewolves, and tons of vampires. Actually-” she smirked, “Jace and Alec might have sabotaged their flying motorcycles.”

“Flying motorcycles? This just gets cooler and cooler. Did I ever ride one?” Simon was nerding out again, but right now he didn’t care. Why didn’t he ever know about this?

“No,” Isabelle said, laughing. “I think Clary and Jace did, when they were escaping from the Hotel Dumort.” Simon’s face fell a little, but he was still excited. “Don't get too excited” she chided. “They almost died when the sun came out. The bikes only fly at night, so they crash landed and could have been seriously hurt.” Simon shrugged.

“I know, but it's still cool. Like, what if Hagrid was a vampire?” Isabelle was utterly confused. “Who?”

He smiled and rolled his eyes. “Nevermind. Continue.” Izzy rolled her eyes at him, but consented. “So during the party, which I basically got us invited to, the two of us went away from the others.” She paused, then added, “I was trying to set Alec up with Magnus, actually.

“You were being awkward, no offense, and a faerie came by with these blue drinks. I honestly don't know if you were trying to impress me or you were just being dumb, but you drank one. This is where it gets weird.”

“Doesn't it always get weird when drinks are concerned?” Simon joked. “Or Downworlders, for that matter? Or just the Shadowhunting world in general?” Isabelle punched him on the shoulder ‘playfully’, and Simon winced.

“Anyway, you kinda turned into a rat.” Simon stared at her. “A rat,” he repeated. “Yes,” Isabelle replied seriously. “A small, fat, furry, rat.” Simon stared for another minute, then broke into laughter. “A rat! Can this possibly get any weirder?” Isabelle couldn’t help but laugh along with him. At the time, it hadn’t been funny, but looking back on it, she found it extremely hilarious. “Yes,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath, “things always --get--weirder, Simon Lewis.”

Chapter Text

Simon and Isabelle laughed together in Simon’s bed, as Isabelle continued to describe the Simon-Rat.

“Why--why didn't you take a picture of it or something?” Simon was still trying to calm down, but then he was overtaken by another bout of laughter. When he could breath again, he said, “Could have made good blackmail.” Isabelle raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? That would've been amazing blackmail.” They both laughed again; it was uncontrollable. Tears of laughter ran down Izzy’s face, and she wiped them away. “Also,” she added, “you might've been able to see it now. Imagine your face when I whip out my cell phone in the middle of something and try to tell you that it was you.”

“That would've been pretty unbelievable” he replied. “I wish Shadowhunters had cellphones.” Isabelle shrugged. “Maybe the Clave will consider it sometime.” They both sat in silence before Isabelle chuckled. “I’m kidding.”

“Oh!” Simon finally understood the Shadowhunter joke. “Right.” Simon suspected it would be a while before he laughed at those. “We’re getting off topic,” Isabelle pointed out to prevent the awkward silence. Simon nodded and a piece of hair fell into his face. Isabelle reached out and tucked it behind his ear instinctively before pulling her arm back.

“So,” she said in a strained voice. “Back to the party.” Simon blushed and nodded again.

“Well, Clary was going crazy, crying and holding you and regretting everything, blah blah blah. We decided it was a good time to leave, and she had to put you in her bag.” Simon scrunched up his nose-quite adorably, in Isabelle’s opinion-and said, “Ew.”

“Probably. But it wasn't until we were almost back at the Institute-of course -when we realized that you were gone.” Simon smirked. “Of course ” he repeated sarcastically. Izzy sighed. “Anyway, turns out that some vampire thought that you were one of his buddies, who had also been turned into a rat, through the blue drink or whatever. He thought Clary was, erm, ‘kidnapping’ him, I guess. So he stole you out of her backpack and took you back to the vampire headquarters-the Hotel Dumort.”

“Duh duh duhhhh! What's going to happen to Rat Simon next? Find out in the next episode of ‘Stupid Things That Simon Did But Can't Remember’.” Isabelle joined in. “We'll be back after this short commercial break.” He smiled at her, surprised and grateful. She was being nerdy? Since when was Isabelle Lightwood nerdy ? She sensed what he was thinking and raised an eyebrow.

“What? I'm only human, you know. Stop it!” She punched him on the shoulder for the second time that night. Simon only winced slightly, which he was proud of. Then he said something that he was definitely not proud of.

“Sooo…what should we do during this commercial break?” Staring into Izzy's eyes as he said this, he thought he saw conflicting emotions cross her face before it settled on mischievousness.

“Well, it depends. How long is this break?” Simon was not expecting the question, and immediately blushed.

He stretched and pulled himself up to a higher position to avoid staring at Isabelle, head resting against the headboard. The room was quiet, with only the sounds of the city drifting in through the open window. The witchlight pulsed soothingly in Isabelle’s hand, light seeping through her fingers and illuminating the room with a soft glow.

“I was worried about you, you know,” Isabelle whispered, turning to look up at Simon. Her eyes captivated him for the umpteenth time that night, and he didn’t know what to do. She moved closer, laying her head on his shoulder. Simon moved his arm, placing it gently across her back. Isabelle sighed in content, then chuckled slightly.

“You used to be cold,” she murmured. “Like a statue. I couldn’t feel your heartbeat…” she put her arm around his middle and squeezed him gently. “I think I like it better this way.”

“I think I do too, Izzy.” Simon cleared his throat nervously.

“I, uh...I think, when I had my memories, as a, you know, vampire . I think I must have loved you, very much. I can just... feel it. I have no idea how you felt, but I know that I cared about you very much. And I don’t know if we even got together, or not, or if you just totally ignored me...if you were only in it for the vampire bit, then I’m sorry I can’t be that anymore and-”

“Simon, stop, please!” Isabelle cut him off and looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes. “When you were a vampire you were dead . You didn’t have a heartbeat, you didn’t age, you were cold. I love you for you , Simon. Being a vampire didn’t change anything!” She buried her head in Simon’s chest, shaking. Simon held her tight. “I’m sorry, Izzy. I just needed to know.” His voice cracked and he stopped talking. He gently lifted her head, holding her face in his hands, and kissed her. Isabelle dropped the witchlight in surprise, and the room was plunged into darkness.

She wrapped her arms around Simon and shifted so that she was completely facing him. She kissed him back, hard, refusing to let go. FInally she broke away with a sigh and stared at him as her eyes adjusted to the dark. She moved back to where she had been, after realizing that she had been between his legs.

“I do love you, you dork.”

Curling up against him, she felt him laugh softly and lay back down on the bed. He caressed her face and kissed the top of her head before promptly falling asleep. Isabelle looked at his face, smiling. She was glad she’d come in here.

Snuggling up against Simon’s warm body, she let herself sleep, for the first time since Simon had become a vampire.