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The Ops center is a bustling hive of activity as it always is, and it’s that familiarity and normalcy that eases the tension and anxiety in Clary’s chest that has been there since she woke up in Lilith’s apartment in the middle of Siberia. It isn’t gone. It won’t be until she gets this rune off, but she feels more settled now that she’s back.It sometimes still surprises her how quickly this place and these people have become her home, none more so than the circle of relieved faces in front of her, a quiet pocket of joy amid the everyday operations of the Institute.Luke is the first to reach her, pulling her into a hug that is already too long in coming. They hadn’t had time to take a moment in Paris, heading for the nearest Institute in order to get a portal back home. In the condensed rundown she’d received of the past week, Jace told her how Luke had led the charge to find her, convinced that she was alive, left his pack behind to do so. He’s the only real father she’s ever had, always putting her needs before his own, and like so many daughters, she forgot to tell him how much he means to her until it was almost too late. She pulls back to look up at him, nodding through a watery smile as she says, “I love you.”He presses a kiss to her forehead with a whispered, “Love you, too, kiddo.”Magnus is next, and his hug is bone-crushing. She holds him back as tight as she can. “Thank you,” she says gently against his shoulder.She’s been told, if only very briefly, about Magnus’s sacrifice, and two words have never felt more woefully inadequate. But it’s all she has, right now.Magnus shakes his head as he pulls away, giving her a soft smile, “It’s good to see you, Biscuit.”He falls back to Alec’s side, allowing Simon to rush in and take his place.She almost cries at the look on his face, remembering keenly the depth of grief and pain that had held a vice-like grip on her heart, stealing her breath at every second when Simon had died. It led her to a selfish act that she still can’t say she regrets, as terrible of a person as that makes her. He hugs her again, and she lets herself lean into him, lets the happiness bubble up in her until it spills into laughter. When she opens her eyes, Izzy is there a step behind him.She stands as commanding and beautiful as ever, and Clary’s heart skips a beat in her chest. The terror of never seeing her again, of never seeing any of them again, floods back for the briefest moment until Izzy smiles. It’s sweet and fond, head tilted slightly as if to say ‘there you are,’ as if Clary slept in and was late for training instead of kidnapped and half a world away. “Hi,” Clary breathes out, almost a laugh, and Izzy sweeps into her arms, pressed close and warm. The scent of warm leather and Izzy’s perfume fills her nose, and she lets the comforting smell of gardenias wash over her, hugging Izzy a little tighter. It doesn’t last long enough, but Izzy pulls back only to reach up and tuck Clary’s hair back behind her ear, looking at her with such intensity that she might have blushed a few months ago. Izzy’s fingers trail lightly along her jaw before she drops her arm, but the tingle of her touch lingers after.She turns vicious and almost feral a second later, promising death and retribution to Jonathan if only she could get her hands on him. She is a soldier through and through, ready and waiting for orders, a warrior on the brink of battle. It warms something in Clary, and she almost drags her back into her arms again. They’re all ready and willing to go to war for her, despite everything. Despite all that Magnus has lost, he still offers his aid in mapping ley lines. Despite their short and turbulent history, Alec orders his troops into position. Despite the Shadow World bringing Simon nothing but pain and loss, he stands by her side even now. Clary doesn’t know what she’s done to inspire this kind of devotion from any of them, and she bites the inside of her lip, blinking away the continued prick of tears in her eyes. Family, Simon says, and he’s right. These people are everything she has. She would do anything for them, but when she looks at Izzy, there’s something more that flutters in her chest. She wishes desperately to give voice to it, but she doesn’t dare. Not here. Not now. Not when Jonathan lingers just out of reach. Not when those she loves can so easily be used against her.Darkness lurks at the edges of her mind, she can feel it. The pull of her brother through this hellish bond that links them is a fight she can’t lose, but every second gets harder and harder.With a plan in place, the seven of them break apart, and after a brief conversation with Jace, Clary leaves the war room with a vague idea of searching the Institute’s library for some answers.She barely gets around a corner when fingers close around her wrist, drawing her back. Her whole body screams against the immediate instinct to whip around and throw a punch. Her heart races in her chest, hands itching for the weight of her kindjals. She reminds herself that she’s safe here. She’s home. No one inside these walls would hurt her.When she turns, Izzy is waiting there, looking at her as if she knows. The grip on her wrist loosens.“We’re going to fix this,” Izzy says with such determination that Clary believes her. Mountains would bend before Izzy’s stubborn will. God, Clary loves her with such a fierceness sometimes she thinks she’ll break.“I missed you,” Isabelle confesses a beat later in a voice that shatters Clary’s heart. It wasn’t only Simon who thought she was lost forever.“I missed you, too,” she says as she steps closer, “I wasn’t sure I was ever going to see you again.”Izzy swallows hard, reaching up again to brush her fingers through Clary’s hair, and Clary lets her eyes flutter closed, letting out a slow, shuddering breath. The tears come unbidden, sliding down her cheeks, and Izzy makes a soft noise of concern. She feels the gentle slide of her thumb beneath her eye, wiping them away, and something wild bursts through her. It makes her reach up and take hold of Izzy’s hand, squeezing tight before pressing her lips to her palm. When she looks again, Izzy’s watching her with wide brown eyes, full lips parted slightly in surprise. The moment trembles on a knife’s edge, and Clary waits for Isabelle’s judgement. It comes not with a blow but a sigh as Izzy falls into her, lips finding Clary’s as she’s backed into an alcove. Izzy’s hands cradle her face with a tenderness that makes her want to shy away. She tastes the slight chemical flavor of lipstick on her tongue and thrills at the way Izzy’s breath hitches. Clary digs her fingers into Izzy’s waist and pulls her closer. For a minute, she can breathe again.