Summary: Post Episode 2x10. (Harry POV)
An alternative version of how the events of episode 2x10 could have gone.
Harry leaves the command centre, frustrated, angry and has an invite from Abigael waiting for him. But there is something holding him back.
 Harry braced himself against the door to the command centre as it slammed closed behind him. His body felt as though it was on fire. There was a rage that was building inside of him with nowhere to go. It had been happening more and more frequently and he had continued to try to ignore it.
 He could feel it burning through him when he threw Ray against the wall of the hotel room. A rage burning through him that there were another demon playing games with them. And then when it had turned out to be their actual father, and that he had stolen from a dead woman the rage had built up again.
 There was usually something holding him back, but it was like the lid had been let off and there was nothing to keep this rage in check.
 He could feel it building again when he had seen Macy with that billionaire, laughing, happy. The happiest he had seen her in weeks. And he knew that she deserved this, she deserved to be this happy, but there was that resentment that it wasnât him that she was smiling at, that made her feel happy and wanted, but some stranger.
 His hand clasped in a fist by his side, released when Mel, pulled on his arm, pulling him out of his own thoughts and back to the matter at hand.
 It wasnât a date she told him, but he knew better. He could see the way her face lighted up when she looked at the messages on her phone.
 He hadnât lied to her when he told her that kissing Abigael was âa momentâ but nothing more. It felt almost like it was another person who had been down in that library with her. Who had her fingers running against his scalp, lips moving against his own. It felt like a dream.
 Was Abigael what he deserved. A poor copy of what he truly desired. Someone that he could pour all his feeling into, knowing that she would never be enough., not even close.
 He sighed, looking back at the door, wondering whether it was too late to go back inside. But something stopped him. He looked down at his phone, a text from Abigael that had been there for hours unanswered, an invitation, back to her apartment.
 He concentrated on his destination feeling the environment around him start to dissipate as his body was pulled through space. His body jolted as his feet landed on solid ground and he took in his surroundings.
 It was a quiet night, quieter than it usually was. He moved to the bar, signalling to the bartender for a pint of ale, before taking a seat at the bar. He rested his elbows against the bar, his head falling into his hands.
 He felt as though he was starting to lose himself. Something had changed since they had come to Seattle, whether it was the Darklighter, the revelations found in the Book of Elders or something else entirely there was something that didnât feel right. He had found comfort in the familiar feelings that he had for Macy a remaining constant, something that he could be sure of in this constant state of change.
 âYou look like you just got dumped mate,â came the gruff voice of the bartender from behind the bar, as the glass was placed in front of him. He recognised the accent as of the lower class of London, a little too like his doppelganger for his liking.
 âSomething like that,â he answered, eyes focused on the frothy liquid in front of him as he took a sip.
 âWe get a lot of that in here,â the man answered with a chuckle, before returning to the other patrons of the bar.
 He finished his drink and considered ordering another before deciding against it. Alcohol had the tendency to make his orbing a little wonky and paired with his current state of emotions he could end up anywhere and he did not want to have to send the inevitable text to Mel or Maggie to come and portal to rescue him from his own drunken stupor.
 He looked down at his phone again the message from Abigael remained unanswered, and now had a companion, yet another request for him to come to her and he couldnât deny that he felt the pull. Deep in his gut. Until Macyâs words resonated within him again. âSheâs dangerous, Harry. I donât want you getting hurt.â
 At first, he had thought that perhaps while Macy didnât want him she didnât want anyone else to either, but that wasnât Macy. She had only ever wanted the best for the ones that she loved. He should count himself lucky to be one of those people.
 He put the phone back in his pocket and left the bar, making his way to the alleyway where he could orb without risk of being seen. He appeared back at Safe Space, the office building largely quiet now, except for a few stragglers and he felt some concern about the apparent lack of security that was so plainly absent from the large building. He made he way back to the command centre, slightly relieved to find it empty.
 One blessing since Abigael had taken over as overlord was the dramatic decline in witches in danger, meaning that the vigilance with the map had given way, allowing them to focus their efforts on more pressing matters and looking at the bigger picture. Such as his darklighterâs return, and where Ray was giving all these artefacts to.
 âHarry?â A confused voice called out to him as he turned to see Macy entering from the library, a cup of tea in hand, as well as a book of spells.
 âMacy, I thought you would have-â he was sure that she wouldnât still be here, that she would have taken the opportunity to go to him. Him and the simplicity that he represented. Whether she would maintain the pretence when she returned about simply âdistractingâ him.
 âI was going to,â she tells him, placing her cup and book on the table, near the portal and map console.
 There was a thudding in his chest, those emotions and feelings starting to become dominating and powerful. The jealousy rising up in him that she had considered going to him.
 âI wanted to, but something held me back.â She looked up at him, her eyes soft, where he had expected to find a harshness that he deserved, that he had earnt. âYou know, you told me that I know how you feel about me,â she said softly, her eyes avoiding his gaze as she looked down, deep breath in before they met his again. âBut I have no idea.â
 Her words hit him like a freight train. How could she not? He had worshipped the ground that she walked on, seizing on every moment that allowed him a contact that was beyond what he should, she had even read it in his own mind while consumed by the raw power of the source.
 âYouâve never told me, Harry. How you feel. The only evidence I have ever had of your feelings is you kissing another woman. Someone we donât trust, that is dangerous, someone who could very well get us killed.â Her head dropped again, âCould get you killed.â
 She shook her head before looking up again, and he could see that she was waiting for him to say something. Those words that had been swirling around in his mind for so long now they had almost become a part of him. She was waiting for him because she was right he hadnât told her. Hadnât let loose all those emotions and words that could never even come close to describing what he felt for her. He couldnât even pinpoint where they had started, whether it had been when he had first accompanied to Galvinâs party, when he was trapped with her in that damn television show, or when he had seen her accept a part of herself that she was terrified of but had the strength to confront it.
 His hand reaches out for hers, his thumb tracing over her knuckles, finding comfort in the warmth of her skin, acutely aware of how distant they have been lately, and how much he has missed the simple touch of her skin against his own.
 âMacy, I care,â he took a deep breath, the words feeling caught in his throat. Even now as she looks up at him expectantly he canât help the nagging self-doubt that he isnât good enough for her, that he will never be the man she so deserves. âI care deeply about you. More than I should. More than a friend, or a confidante.â
 He feels her hand tighten around his own as he says the words he has been holding in for so long, worried about how they would be received, that she would be horrified, that she might pity him, reject him, move on to something better and whole.
 âHarry, I have been confused for so long,â she admits, her other hand reaching for his, fingers running across his palm before intertwining with his own. âI was scared, that these,â she pauses and he can see it now the fear in her eyes. That the confessions to each other could turn everything upside down, that there could be so much more to risk. His hand moves to her shoulder, as it has so many times before. His thumb running over the material of her jumper, and instead of turning away, creating distance between them, she leans into his touch.
 âThese feelings could change everything between us, and the thought, the simple thought that you might not return them. It was easier, to pretend that they could go somewhere else. That I could feel them for someone easier, less risky, but it didnât work, because they were less.â
 Her hand moved from his hand, up his forearm, leaving a blazing trail in its wake, and he is captivated. Her fingers move tentatively, brushing against his cheek as if she is testing herself, or him. Heâs not sure but it feels more intimate than he could ever have imagined.
 âI thought,â
 âI know, and perhaps I should have said something, but-â
 âThen you saw me. With-â
 âHer,â her hand leaves his cheek and he misses the feel of her palm, the warmth of her skin as he can see her retreating inside herself again. That this could be another moment lost.
 âI didnât lie, Macy, it was a moment, I, I was an idiot. A scared idiot.â He moves his hand to her waist, memorising each touch just in case he manages to screw this up royally and this is as close as he ever comes.
 Her eyes flit to where his hand rests, and he wonders if her heart is beating just as furiously as his is at the contact.
 âI want you,â he whispers, his other hand moving from her shoulder, where it has continued to trace patterns against the soft material of her jumper, to cup her face. âOnly you.â
 Macy is the one to take the final leap, her lips brushing gently against his as she leans into him. A touch so brief it could be barely be called a kiss, but if that was all it ever was he would be grateful for it, have it etched into his memories for a lifetime. But it wouldnât be enough.
 This is further confirmed when she presses her lips against his again with more pressure, more urgency, and he grips onto her. Sinking everything he had and had been holding onto into the kiss. The rage inside that has been for so long just bubbling under the surface is sated, retreating away from the light that she offers.
 They break apart, and Harry canât resist, brushing his lips against hers, the temptation to feel the softness of her lips once more too strong to fight against. He doesnât think now whether it will ever be enough. A smile breaks across her lips, as her arms wrap around him and he feels the overwhelming sensation that this is exactly where he should be.
 And that those messages on his phone will forever remain unanswered.
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Waverly y Wynonna se enfrentan a una difĂcil decisiĂłn que podrĂa acabar con la vida de uno de los suyos. Esto es post 2x10 pero excluye lo que sucede con Wynonna y Doc al final del episodio.Â
My first Wayhaught fanfic for those Earpers from LatinoĂĄmerica. The last episode is still around my head and I had to something with it because Nicole's puppy face and Waverlyâs despair was the only things that I could think about. That, and that painful promise.
Officer Haught: [Beeping and other noises found in a hospital setting continue through out] I think...Baron Samedi just visited me. Oh man Iâm sure it was the man from the bar. He was dressed in a tuxedo and had a [pauses to breathe a few times] white skull painted on his face. He said he wanted to make a deal....if I found his hat, he would erase all the hurt and make things good with Waverly and I. He said [shakily breathes] he said he could stop the pain and-and turn Waverlyâs heart. [silent pause] He said heâs sick of people calling on him. Hmph, I get that. Was it all a dream? [shakily breathes]
Originally posted on www.purgatorysd.com on 13 August 2017 between the airings of 2x10 and 2x11
Alec sighed and pressed his face against Magnusâ back, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. The warlock didnât respond. Alec wasnât surprised. Magnus was practically drained after the last twenty four hours, and Alec wasnât much better off himself.
Even after the fight against Valentine and finding each other after hours of not knowing if the other was alright, Magnus and Alec still had work to do. As a downworld leader, Magnus had to help with the identification of the dead, then he opened a portal so that the bodies could be delivered to their packs and clans, rather than leave them for the shadowhunters to dispose of. Then he had met with Luke and Raphiel, about what Alec still hadnât asked. Magnus would tell him if he wanted to.
Alec had been busy himself. As the head of the institute heâd had to inform the families of the lost shadowhunters and help transport them to the large open space where their funerals would be held. Reports had to be written, damage control completed. Izzy was the infirmary, Jace was brooding, and the Soul Sword was missing. He didnât know what he needed to deal with first.
Finally, when all that they could do was done, Magnus and Alec had walked to the warlockâs loft, hand in hand, not speaking. Once there, they had removed their shoes at the door and found themselves in Magnusâs huge bathroom.
Alec had undressed his boyfriend with shaking hands. He checked every inch of uncovered skin for injuries, his fists clenching in anger when he found light bruises where the vampires had gripped Magnus outside the institute. Magnus only murmured soothingly to him that he was fine, his nimble fingers going about removing Alecâs gear. If he found a cut or scrape anywhere, he made it disappear with a warm flash of blue from his fingertips before they stepped into the shower together.
Their touches under the hot water hadnât been sexual, though. They had simply stood together, watching blood and dirt and sweat wash away. Alec had grabbed the shampoo and went for Magnusâ hair, washing out gel and spray until it was left limp and soft between fingers. Magnus had followed his lead, though his menstruations were to sooth Alec.
Alec had looked up into Magnusâs eyes, still ringed in thick black makeup. Makeup that wouldnât wash away until Magnus wanted it gone. Alec had asked him, in way that he hoped made it clear it was up to Magnus, to take it off. And he had.
Because tonight they didnât need to be the head of the New York institute or the High Warlock of Brooklyn. They just needed to be Magnus and Alec.
They had gotten out of the shower and dried themselves off before crawling into bed, Alec in shorts and a T-shirt and Magnus in a pair of Alecâs sweatpants. They laid facing each other on Magnusâs bed, their legs tangled and foreheads touching. They spent the short time before they fell asleep whispering âI love youâs and kissing.
Alec didnât remember falling asleep, but now it was well after one in the morning. He wasnât really concerned, he had made a habit of waking up in the middle of the night around the same time Jace and Izzy had started sneaking out of the institute years ago. He kissed the back of Magnusâs neck and rolled away from him, wanting a little space under the warm sheets.
Alec nuzzled his face into the cool pillow, then slowly opened his eyes to look at the clock. Instead his hazel eyes locked with a pair of dark brown ones. Alec immediately jolted awake, hands searching for a weapon out of reflex before his brain kicked in. He recognized who those eyes belonged to.
âMadzie?â He asked in a hushed voice as a million questions ran through his mind.
What was she doing here? How did she get here? Did Caterina even know she was gone? Why hadnât she set off Magnusâs wards? Why was she staring at Alec like that?
âI had a bad dream,â The little girl said, as is Alec should have known. As if she had always came to his bedside when she had nightmares.
âUhâŚâ Madzie looked at the floor.
âNana letâs me sleep with her when I have bad dreams.â
Finally, Alecâs sleep addled brain kicked in. Madzie had had a nightmare. She was scared. She was scared and her nana was gone. So she found the next person who she trusted. She found Alec.
Suddenly it didnât matter that there was no way Madzie should have been able to portal herself here when she had never been to Magnusâs apartment. It didnât matter that she had made it through powerful wards without disturbing Magnus at all. It didnât matter that this was completely crazy. All that mattered was that Madzie was scared and she had came to Alec for comfort.
âDo you want to sleep with us?â Alec asked her. Madzie nodded, gnawing on her thumb nervously. Alec easily scooped her up and put her on the bed, between himself and Magnus.
Madzie curled into the pillows and pressed herself against Alecâs side, knotting her fingers in his shirt. Alec wrapped his arms around her and hummed softly in her ear.
He knew that Caterina was going to call in a panic in the morning. He knew Magnus was probably going get overexcited in one way or another. He knew the Clave was going to be furious. But he couldnât find it in himself to care. Right now, all that mattered was the girl drifting to sleep in his arms.
-I love you,- he says, and itâs unassuming and he doesnât expect you to say it back. He just offers, I love you, and itâs not easy for him, you can see it, he stumbles upon his breaths, upon his words, he tries to give you reasons, reasons why he needs to tell you, and you donât know if youâll ever be able to breathe again. He doesnât know what he just did, he doesnât know he gave you air.
I love you like itâs easy to feel and a mess to say, he had no oxygen in his lungs, and heâs a boy and you think he canât possibly know what it means, I love you, and you think you should explain, love is not just a word you throw around, Alexander, love is difficult, it sounds stupidly simple, but thatâs the point, love is difficult, and, maybe, somewhere inside your head, love is not for me. And you donât mean it in some self deprecating way, itâs just that he doesnât know that you see love in different ways, he canât understand that love is brief and it makes your life look unbearably long.
But â but youâve been craving this, youâve been craving this for so long, this feeling wrapped around your chest, tight enough that you almost canât breathe, right where Alecâs arms were just moments ago, and it wouldnât feel right if it werenât his, you know your chest is molded around his hands.
And you take a deep breath, even though it doesnât fall easily down your throat.
Youâve never been so scared in your life.
(Heâs just a boy but heâs got angel blood running in his veins, and you think it shows.)
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I'd Watch My World Burn Just to See You Smile - JediFighterPilot2727
Word Count: 5, 604 (and counting)
Summary: So this is a fix it fic post 2x10. A realistic representation of how I think the writers should handle things. Some angst and a little fluff i guess! One shot for now but I might turn it into a slow burn multi-chap if I get good feedback!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Shadowhunters (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Isabelle Lightwood & Jace Wayland
Characters: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood, Isabelle Lightwood, Jace Wayland
Additional Tags: Post-Episode: s02e10 By The Light Of Dawn, Past Relationship(s)
Summary:
When Alec starts to question why Magnus so rarely initiates contact, the powerful warlock and Alec's own siblings are put on the spot. It's a conversation a long time coming but is Magnus ready to have it? And can Alec handle the answer he receives?
There was a moment silence before Alec spoke again, this time his voice was softer, almost hesitant, as if he were unsure he should be saying it, âI want to see Madzie.â Magnus hummed in response but did not interrupt. Alec took this as a sign and continued, âTo make sure sheâs okay.â
read it on AO3
Alec and Magnus stepped through the portal and into the living room.
Magnus closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, âAahh home...at last.â He was finally able to properly relax because, no matter how much time he spent at the institute, he sometimes still felt unwelcome and as if the people around his were watching his every move.
He made his way to the drink cart and pouring himself some scotch.
âFeels nice to be back, safe,â Alec replied, peeling his leather jacket off his body then hanging it on the coat rack by the front entrance. Kicking off his shoes and placing them neatly next to the coat rack.
Alec made his way to the living room and sat on the couch; his posture went slack, his head rested on the back of the couch. He turned his head to face Magnus ââwho had been gazing at with sultry eyes since he saw him bend over, effectively causing his pants to become even tighter.
Alec caught on to Magnusâ gaze and smirked knowingly. He reached out with his left hand and beckoned Magnus to the spot next to him.
Magnus happily obliged.
He set down his drink on the glass coffee table in front of him then swiftly turned his body and attention to Alec. He smiled warmly, his gaze held such intense love and affection, and traced his thumb along the lite smattering of stubble on Alecâs jaw.
Alec smiled just as warmly, the same intense emotions present in his gaze. He placed his hand on Alecâs right thigh and began tracing random patterns.
Magnus tilted his head and leaned forward steadily and placed his lips on Alecâs soft ones. Alec responded immediately, placing his right hand on Magnusâ neck and the other on top of Magnusâ hand that was on the top of the couch.
This kiss was different. It was soft and gentle; no trace of urgency or desperation. He did not feel express everything he was feeling in one kiss.
They were able to take their time, exploring each other thoroughly as if one was afraid the other would disappear tomorrow.
Alec sighed contently into the kiss; he could spend all day like this and if the shadow world wasnât falling apart; heâd gladly sit here all day in Magnusâ warm embrace, soaking in each others presence.
Sometimes Alec wishes he could just stop time or portal to another dimension and pretend that he lived a different life. A life where he could spend an eternity with Magnus without having to think about how some day heâd perish, leaving Magnus behind. He wouldnât have to imagine what it would be like for Magnus to have to cope with his death, alone.
Magnus pulled away, causing Alec to pout. Â
Alec rested his forehead against Magnusâ softly. His gaze immediately locked with Magnusâ. Alec leaned again in and placed a peck on Magnusâ warm pink ones. He mumbled, âI love you,â against his lips.
Magnus smiled, âI love you too.â he sighed happily, he felt so at home right where he was, it had been so long since he had felt this way with someone. Sometimes he was still astounded that the man in front of him loved him, that such a handsome and wonderful, and amazing man had come into his life. He felt so lucky.
Magnus could feel Alecâs breath on his neck, âWhatcha thinking about in there, Mags?â Alec pondered. Â
âYou,â Magnus whispered affectionately. Seconds passed and he suddenly felt a yawn forming and covered his mouth with his hand.
Alec smiled fondly in response, he loved the little crinkles on the side of his eyes that formed when he yawned or laughed, it was just one the many things about Magnus he loved.
âLooks like someone could use a little catnap,â Alec teased. Magnus snorted dryly in response.
Alec took both Magnusâ hands in his and stood, bringing Magnus along with him. Â
Magnus vanished the drink on the table to the kitchen sink with a simple flick of his wrist and followed Alec.
They entered the comfort of their bedroom; it was bathed in a soft amber glow coming from the floor lamp to their right and the fiery and musky scent of the incense permeated their noses.
The first thing Magnus did was unbutton his black and white shirt until his muscular upper body was on display, then threw in in the hamper in the corner.
Meanwhile, Alec glided to his side of the bed and placed this stele and cell phone on the nightstand.
âWhat time do you want to visit Madzie tomorrow?â He inquired, reaching behind him and pulling his jumper off, tossing it haphazardly on one of the beige chairs situated in front of their bed. Soon after his pants were thrown alongside his jumper.
Magnus was stood in front of his vanity removing his rings and earcuffs. He glanced at Alec through the mirror, smirking devilishly at Alecâs state of undress.
âI was thinking after lunch,â Magnus answered then made his way to the bed. He got under the covers and immediately gravitated towards Alecâs warm body; placing his head on Alecâs shoulder and his right hand on his abdomen; lazily drawing random patterns on his smooth skin
Alecâs body shivered in pleasure every time Magnusâ fingertips grazed his lower abdomen.
âOkay.â
Magnus let out another yawn.
Alec chuckled, âSleep.â he ordered, âIâll be here when you wake up.â
Magnus closed his eyes and nuzzled deeper into Alecâs shoulder. He let a final deep breath and slowly drifted into a calm sleep to the feeling of Alec slowly tracing his right bicep up and down in soothing motions.
