[ Finding herself suddenly back at the Institute, back home, is as disorienting for Clary as it is for Bellamy, although for entirely different reasons. But the familiarity of everything hits her in a way that's overwhelming and makes everything about the last half-year or so get pushed aside, her immediate thought upon waking in her bedroom and recognizing where she was being of her mom. When she finds her still suspended in the coma, she assumes that they just haven't found a way to save her yet.
But then she sees Izzy and Alec (and Jace, though from a distance as he's still avoiding her) and asks them to confirm the day, only to receive looks like she's insane in response. As she pieces together that no time at all has passed and they're no closer to saving her mother than she woke up on that beach in some other world, the Institute — so welcoming before — becomes suffocating. So she grabs her jacket and hightails it out into the once familiar but now discordant bustle of New York City.
As she walks, without any specific destination in mind, the memories of Erku come crashing to the forefront of her mind, the strongest and most difficult to think of being, of course, Bellamy. Knowing that she will never see him again makes her feel hollow, empty, and she actually finds herself wishing she was back there again with him. She'd made promises — they both had — that they would find each other if they ever left now that she's here, back in her own world, she has no idea where to even begin.
It's not until she comes around the bend and nearly collides with a runner that she realizes she's in Central Park, had even wandered to the exact spot where she'd painted the picture Bellamy hung on his wall as part of her birthday present. (Which also made her wonder: was she a year older now, here in New York? Or was she back to being 18 again?) She instinctively lifts her arms to protect herself, jumping a step backward out of the guy's way, issuing a clipped ] Sorry— [ as she's jolted from her thoughts.
Pressing a hand to her chest to try to calm her racing heart, Clary turns to the path she'd been walking, actually seeing it for the first time, and that's when she sees him, too. His back is to her but she'd recognize those curls and well-worn jacket anywhere, in this world or another. ]
Bellamy? [ His name is barely a whisper, tears flooding her vision, breath caught in her throat. Surely this was a dream or a hallucination; she'd wanted to see him so badly that she literally conjured up a vision of him. There was no way he was actually standing there, solid and alive in her world.
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But then she sees Izzy and Alec (and Jace, though from a distance as he's still avoiding her) and asks them to confirm the day, only to receive looks like she's insane in response. As she pieces together that no time at all has passed and they're no closer to saving her mother than she woke up on that beach in some other world, the Institute — so welcoming before — becomes suffocating. So she grabs her jacket and hightails it out into the once familiar but now discordant bustle of New York City.
As she walks, without any specific destination in mind, the memories of Erku come crashing to the forefront of her mind, the strongest and most difficult to think of being, of course, Bellamy. Knowing that she will never see him again makes her feel hollow, empty, and she actually finds herself wishing she was back there again with him. She'd made promises — they both had — that they would find each other if they ever left now that she's here, back in her own world, she has no idea where to even begin.
It's not until she comes around the bend and nearly collides with a runner that she realizes she's in Central Park, had even wandered to the exact spot where she'd painted the picture Bellamy hung on his wall as part of her birthday present. (Which also made her wonder: was she a year older now, here in New York? Or was she back to being 18 again?) She instinctively lifts her arms to protect herself, jumping a step backward out of the guy's way, issuing a clipped ] Sorry— [ as she's jolted from her thoughts.
Pressing a hand to her chest to try to calm her racing heart, Clary turns to the path she'd been walking, actually seeing it for the first time, and that's when she sees him, too. His back is to her but she'd recognize those curls and well-worn jacket anywhere, in this world or another. ]
Bellamy? [ His name is barely a whisper, tears flooding her vision, breath caught in her throat. Surely this was a dream or a hallucination; she'd wanted to see him so badly that she literally conjured up a vision of him. There was no way he was actually standing there, solid and alive in her world.
Right? ]