#post 3x10

---

The boos and angry noise of the crowd is a furious buzzing in his ears and he squares his shoulders and eyes on the ball and the match is what fucking matters, everything else is just poopy, stupid fucking shit, doesn’t matter—

He plays like he means to outplay the devil himself. Plays like it would have been easy, had old Nick cared to show up.

The booing never stops, not even when Pep makes a point of coming over to him for a quick cuddle and few encouraging words after the final whistle.            

---

And they’re back in the dressing room after and the press is clamouring for a conference just a few doors down and Keeley’s driven all the way up from London and they’re all talking strategies and damage control and spinning the narrative and it’s doing his head in. All of them blabbering on and on and on and—

“Can we just tell them the fucking truth?”

That shuts them up. They all stare at him. Higgins is the first to speak. “Do you – do you want to do that?”

No, he doesn’t say. Of course I don’t wanna fucking do that. 

But the thing is, everyone that matters already knows, don’t they? So what’s the difference, really, with telling the whole fucking world?

It’s a huge fucking difference, something in him whispers.

He closes his eyes for a moment. Opens them again. All right. “Just think it’s the best thing to do, yeah?”

And there’s murmurs of agreement and Keeley’s looking at him like maybe she wants to cry and he can’t look at her looking like that so he looks away.

Roy catches his eyes. “You want me there with you?”

And yeah, he does want that and he’s too exhausted to pretend otherwise. “Yeah,” he says. “Thanks.”

---

“Are you ashamed of your father, Jamie?”

A moment, then, when it’s still not too late. He can still change his mind. He can still lie. No one has to know: he can still be the untouchable Jamie Tartt, confident and arrogant and never ever a victim.  

Fuck that.

“Yeah. I am.”

---

There’s no avoiding the snippets afterwards because they are fucking everywhere but he never watches the whole thing and so he’s not entirely clear on what he really says. Bits and pieces stay with him, though:  

“If I’d told ‘em here at City, my coaches and stuff, they’d have helped. I know they would have. But I was too fucking ashamed, yeah, so I never told anyone and I went off to do this stupid reality show instead and I did a whole bunch of stupid shit just ‘cause I was scared about people finding out about me and my dad. Never wanted anyone to know any of that shit.”

And:

“And I know, right, that there are people who’ll say I shouldn’t be in football if I can’t take a hit, like what the fuck am I gonna do when I’m tackled on the pitch and stuff. But that’s different, yeah? I fucking signed up for that. Didn’t sign up for my dad being a huge fucking dickhead, did I?”

And:

“I’m done being ashamed.”

---

There’s Roy too, near the end, and something about making it seem like aggression and violence is a normal thing and how that is part of the problem and how he’s going to do better from now on, and Jamie wants to tell him that, no, Roy has never been the problem, Jamie ain’t ever been scared of him, that’s really not it at all, but Roy does have a point too, doesn’t he, so Jamie keeps quiet.

---

“Was it all right?” he asks, afterwards, when the door’s closed to the press room and it’s just him and Roy and Keeley in the corridor.

“It was great,” Keeley tells him, stepping close to wrap her arms around him. “It was perfect.” Leaning back a little, she runs a hand over his cheek, “I’m really proud of you, Jamie.”

“Yeah, me too,” Roy says and his hug is just half a thing, one arm wrapped around Jamie’s shoulders and pulling him close, but it’s enough to relax into, to rest in.

Keeley’s looking at both of them like they hung the fucking stars.

“How about dinner?” she asks. “Don’t wanna drive all the way back tonight, think I’ll just get a hotel.”

“Yeah, I’m fucking starving,” Roy says.

And okay. He can’t be disappointed about that. Of course they’d want some time together. “Yeah, okay, yeah. Should be heading for the coach anyway. You have fun, yeah?”

The look they exchange is dismayed.

“No,” Roy says, sounding like he’s trying very hard not to sound angry. “You’re coming to dinner with us. Keeley will drive us back in the morning.”

“Unless you’d rather go back now with the rest of the team,” Keeley quickly adds, shooting Roy a pointed glare.

And oh. Okay. “No, yeah, dinner sounds good.”

---

They make him go say goodbye to the lads first, let them know you’re all right, and it’s still with him when they head out into the Manchester night, Colin’s arms around him and Sam’s quiet smile and Dani’s hands on his shoulders and Isaac’s muttered you’re gonna be okay, bruv.

He carries all of it with him, and it makes him feel light.

---

Coda:

“So, Roy,” Ted asks, leaning back into his office chair. ”Got any big plans for the break?”

He pushed the trolley across the street towards the apartment building while Georgie slouched along behind him, but at least ran out to hold open the door. The lobby was elegant, decorated in dark tones and wood, with marble floors. There was an old-fashioned little booth for a doorman on the right hand wall, but it was empty. They got on the elevator, which was one of the only things in the lobby that looked like it was built this side of the turn of the millenium. As the doors began to close a hand shot out to hold them open. Trevor flinched. He was fairly certain the lobby had been empty just a second before.

“Sorry”, said the hand’s owner as the doors slid open again and he stepped inside. He looked… nice. Definitely not intimidating. But something about him was off. It was hard to pinpoint, but every time he looked at the guy a cold shudder ran down Trevor’s spine. His skin looked cold, lifeless almost. When he noticed the other men staring, he half-smiled at them. He had very sharp teeth.

“Going up?” he asked, motioning to the buttons.

Trevor swallowed. “I mean, this is the ground floor, so yeah.”

“Oh, right,” the guy replied sheepishly. He pushed the button for the penthouse and shifted his stance, fiddling with his headphone cord.

It was like riding the elevator with a shark. Trevor felt watched, observed. He imagined the man’ eyes digging into his back. The gaze of an apex predator. His heart hammered in his chest, he felt cold sweat on his neck. This is it, he thought, this guy is a serial killer. I’m gonna die in this fucking elevator, and the last person I see will be Georgie. One glance at Georgie told him that he wasn’t holding up much better. He probably would have started running already if that hadn’t just resulted in a spectacular crash into the wall of the elevator.

The ding of the elevator reaching its destination made him flinch again. Serial Killer Man (the world’s most terrifying superhero?) stepped out first, heading down the hallway, and ringing the doorbell for Penthouse I.

All of a sudden the strange terror Trevor had felt in his presence dissipated. He felt like he could breathe again. He took a moment to blink and shake his head, then he helped Georgie maneuver the trolley down the hallway and they came to a stop behind and next to Serial Killer Man (It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s a really creepy guy you think is going to murder you!).

The door opened and a scowling, but admittedly very handsome, face poked out. The expression softened when the guy spotted serial killer man, then immediately turned to worry when he saw Trevor, Georgie, and the copious amounts of hard alcohol.

“Simon, hey’’, scowly man said. “Thanks for coming.’’

“Of course’’, serial killer man replied softly. “Is it– how, uh. How’s he holding up?’’

Scowly sighed heavily. “Pretty well, I guess, considering–” he glanced at Trevor and Georgie,”...uh. Stuff.’’ He made a vague,  all-encompassing gesture.

“Can I…?” Serial Killer Man asked.

“What? Oh, sure.” Scowly face opened the door a bit wider to let him slip past into the penthouse. Trevor used his chance to get out his pen and clipboard and stick them both into Scowly’s face. Which wasn’t that easy, because the guy was very much on the tall side.

“Sign here please.”

Scowly glanced behind himself, into the loft, then back at the bottles on the trolley. His expression darkened. Very quietly, to himself, he said, “I didn’t know he was drinking this much.” Trevor felt a pang in the pit of his stomach. One of the downsides of delivering to people’s homes was that you sometimes got way too involved in the personal tragedies of your customers. And he always wanted to help, to do something, but what was a delivery guy gonna do? He was just there to get a signature and then fuck off.

Scowly man sighed again. “Guess you can’t really take this stuff back, right?” Trevor shrugged in a way that hopefully conveyed both how sorry he was about that, but that it would also cause him rather a lot of trouble he’d like to avoid.

Scowly man signed reluctantly. Trevor and Georgie started to unload the boxes from the trolley, but Scowly bent down and picked one up like it weighed no more than a carton of milk. Normally, Trevor couldn’t carry one of those by himself, and he wasn’t unfit. The guy seemed like he worked out, but this was just excessive. He didn’t even break a sweat. In about ten seconds the boxes had disappeared behind the door. Scowly was just about to close it when Trevor held out a small flyer.

“I don’t wanna be rude, but uh. If your roommate”– more scowling–”brother”–scowls for days–”boyfriend”–ah, that’s the ticket– “if your boyfriend wants to, you know. Get help.”

The man eyed the AA flyer sceptically. “I don’t think this is a problem mundane meetings can solve.” Huh? “Thanks, anyway.” He tucked the flyer in his pocket. “Have a good day.”

The door clicked closed. Trevor shook his head. What a fucking weirdo this Bane guy must be. Lucky in the boyfriend department though.

The building at High Street Station had a really fancy elevator. That was the first thing Nina noticed, anyway. Makes sense if you think about it, she thought. You gotta have some cash to get groceries delivered every week. She shifted the cardboard box in her hands to rest on one hip and dug her phone out of her coat pocket. Penthouse 1. So a lot of cash. It was early afternoon, and she guessed she would meet the help instead of the residents. Which was fine by her, the staff was usually much nicer to a Hispanic college student in her first week on the job, who still dropped her signing stylus 90 percent of the time. But the few rich people she did meet varied wildly on a scale from boring and snooty to eccentric and weird. She was curious where Mx Penthouse 1 fell.

Ding. Nina stepped out of the elevator, her steps muffled by thick carpeting, and knocked on the door. The hallway was quiet, but after her ears adjusted she could make out faint sounds coming through the door. A clanging, like metal on metal, dull thuds, a roaring like strong wind. Someone shouting. Heavy boots approaching the door. Nina involuntarily took a step back. The door opened just a crack and a guy, early 20s, blonde hair disheveled, poked his head out. He was breathing hard, and– was that blood on his forehead? A scrape, definitely fresh.

“What!” he demanded.

Nina was dumbstruck, torn between giving him the finger and calling the cops. That forehead wound looked nasty, and she suspected he didn’t bump his head getting out of the shower. Instead she stuck out the box.

“Uhh, delivery for M. Bane.”

Another series of clangs and roars from behind him. A girl’s voice called out “Hurry the fuck up, Jace!” Blondie turned to look back, then accepted the box.

He was about to close the door in her face when she managed to dig out her stylus and phone.

“Sign here”, Nina said.

Blondie rolled his eyes but quickly signed. The door banged shut. Nina stood still for a few seconds more, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Then she hurried back to the elevator. She had thirty-four deliveries left and traffic wasn’t gonna get any better.

Victoria’s phone buzzed again. She stared down at it, frowning. Another delivery after this one. To the other side of town and back. Well, fuck. She rubbed her hands together, trying to get some feeling back into them after biking through the freezing rain. It was in weather like this Victoria wondered whether this job paid enough, and the conclusion she inevitably came to was that it didn’t, but that she also couldn’t seem to get a better one. So delivery-app bike courier it was. At least she got a workout while doing it.

The display overhead informed her that she had reached the top floor and so she stepped off the elevator.

Right away Victoria knew which of the apartments she was delivering to: Through a door to her left she could hear music and voices, the muffled echo of celebration, friendship, togetherness. Despite her mood she felt herself smiling. Nothing taught the essential similarities between people like living in a city, where lack of space and number of inhabitants meant that, if one stood still, one could observe many lives continuing on in parallel. Victoria unslung her backpack and rang the doorbell. Footsteps neared.

The guy who opened the door was, there was no other word for it, gorgeous. Golden skin glowed in the low light of the hallway, dark, eyeliner-framed deep brown eyes, black hair in soft spikes. When he turned his head a glint of silver reflected off a delicate cuff on his right ear. And he was really buff. Like the face wasn’t enough. The face that was smiling a very nice smile at her.

“You must be the food?”

“Hopefully not. I’d taste horrible.” The joke had slipped out and she groaned inwardly, but the guy laughed, genuinely and with just a tiny roll of his eyes.

“I should have seen that one coming.”

Victoria grinned and shrugged to say “you really should have” and bent down to unzip her backpack. From inside the apartment she could hear music, now louder, and the sounds of a video game being played and discussed loudly by multiple people. She caught a bit of a sentence ending with “...and in real life jumping between buildings isn’t this hard” and a clonking noise like pots banging together. Something smelled like it was burning. Even gorgeous guy glanced over his shoulder. He seemed concerned, but not quite enough to investigate. Victoria returned to unpacking the bags of food.

When she looked back up, a girl had appeared next to the guy. She was short, red-headed, and also really attractive. If the rest of this guy’s guests looked like this, Victoria supposed she’d have to invite herself to this party.

“How’s it looking in there, biscuit?” Gorgeous asked the redhead.

“They’re this close to fratricide, I’d say.” The girl held up two crossed fingers. “But they’re being very passive aggressive about it.”

Gorgeous nodded thoughtfully and picked something out of her hair. It looked a lot like a small shrimp. He frowned and muttered something like thought they were making lasagna.

“Well, I don’t know what it’s supposed to be, but I’m guessing ‘edible’ is not on the list.” Redhead turned to Victoria and smiled. “You’re our salvation, honestly,” and to Gorgeous, “Thank god you ordered food.”

Another girl’s voice called from somewhere to the left: “Magnus? Why do I smell takeout!?” It was followed by a deeper voice with a similar tone of outrage: “Hey, we’re almost done. It’s not that bad this time,” which was followed by a very insulted “Alec!” The burning smell seemed to be getting stronger and Redhead frowned.

“I’d better get back there, smells like they’ve succeeded in setting your kitchen on fire.”

Gorgeous stopped her from turning back with a hand on her shoulder. “I’ve got this.” He snapped his fingers (it was louder than it should have been) and the smell dissipated suddenly.

Victoria tried to crane her neck in a subtle way. She was now very curious about these guests. She kept herself in check (barely) and handed the bags of food to Red, who accepted them gratefully and carried them back towards what must be the living room. In the low light, Victoria could make out the silhouettes of more people, gathering around Red and calling dibs on the food.

Victoria put her backpack on and, with one last wistful look towards the warm apartment filled with food and company, mentally steeled herself for the bike ride through the cold night. “I’d better get going. Have a good night and enjoy the food. I hope your friends aren’t too disappointed by your ‘betrayal’.”

Gorgeous (Magnus?) rolled his eyes fondly. “They’ll get over it. Until then, all of us will be grateful to you for not letting us starve to death. Oh, I almost forgot,” he dug some money out of his back pocket, “for your trouble. Good night.” With that he shut the door.

He doesn’t like it. At all. And the thing bothering him the most, is that they have no idea what’s going on. His father left them with no explanation at all. Magnus can’t forget the scream the ripped through the air, when Asmodeus put his hand on Alec chest… He saw the glint in Asmodeus’ eyes, right before he did it. But something wasn’t just right on his face, something didn’t fit. The emotion kind of resembling the one from their talk on the balcony, but only for a brief second. Magnus swears to the Angel, that if he hurt Alec… then there will be consequences for him too.

He slumps down on the couch, his hand immediately wandering to Alec’s. Catarina settles herself on the edge of the coffee table, so she can take them both in, as she speaks, directing her worlds to Alec.

“I’m sorry I left, but I needed to check up on Madzie and-“

“Cat, how long was I gone?” Alec asks.

“It’s been…” Catarina looks at the clock above their heads. “You went in last night, it’s already morning, and I just needed to arrange a babysitter for Madzie so-“

“Cat, it’s fine.” Alec answers offering a reassuring smile. “It didn’t felt like the whole night.”

“Time passes by differently in Edom.” Magnus resorts, squeezing his hand a bit tighter. Then he reminds himself of yet another thing. “How long was I out there?”

“Four days.” Alec replies immediately, like he’s been counting hours and seconds since he last saw him. Probably has. “Well, now five actually.”

Magnus nods slowly. The long going time, that felt like ages in Edom, turned out to be just days. But it doesn’t make it any better. He didn’t want to leave Alec for even a second. He knows he won’t, ever again.

“What happened there?” Catarina’s gaze hoovers above them both as she repeats her question. “Did your plan work? How did you get back-” She asks as her eyes settle on Alec.

“Cat, maybe one question at a time?” Alec suggest with a small smile.

She nods apologetically, but before gets to ask anything more, Magnus cuts in.

“What plan?” He looks at Alec, and notices that he’s avoiding his gaze. “That was your plan? To convince him?” He resorts. He told him exactly not to do that. “Alec-“

“That was one part, I guess.” Alec answers, still not meeting his eyes.

“So, the other one was to offer your angelic power.” Magnus more states than asks. Alec nods, and Magnus hangs is head down, shaking it lightly. “Alec, that was stupid, to-“

“But it worked.” He asserts, and then adds in a low whisper. “That’s all that matters.”

They look at each other for a few moments, and Magnus doesn’t spot any traces of regret in Alec’s eyes. Only the relief and love.

“Did he take it?” Catarina interrupts their staring. “You power?”

Alec turns to her, and his mouth hangs open for a few seconds, like he doesn’t know what to say. Because probably he doesn’t. Maybe Amsodeus did take it? That’s why Alec is so weak and unstable…

“We don’t know.” Magnus answers for Alec and curls his arm around his boyfriend’s waist.

“Let’s find out then.” Catarina states, her expression confused, but also determined to help. Magnus will need to talk to her too, since she’s the one who did the spell, when he told her not to do just that. It seems no one listens to him, even when it’s about him. “Do you have your stele?”

“Yeah, sure.” Alec answers, letting go of Magnus’ hand and pulling it from his pocket.

“The runes are still there.” Cat says as her eyes fall on Alec's deflect rune, still very present on his neck. Alec moves to take off his jacket, only to reveal more marks on his arms.

“But do they work, right?” He asks, visibly nervous as he draws a fresh stamina rune on his forearm. As the mark burns itself into Alec’s skin, he evidently relaxes, both with feeling the power of the rune overcoming him, and the fact that it works. He lets out a relieved sigh.

Magnus would hate it, if because of him, Alec lost a part of himself. He realises how Alec must have felt, when Magnus gave up his power to save Jace, and him. He’ll never truly understand the feeling, but when Alec offered his abilities to Asmodeus, something just knotted in Magnus’ stomach. Especially, when he knew, he couldn’t stop him.

So it is a relief, that Alec remains his angel-blooded self. Of course, he would always love him, angel blood or not, he just wouldn’t be able to stand that it’s his fault. But then, Magnus feels the worry coming back with stronger force, because they have no idea what happened to Alec. No attachment point, where to start to figure it out.

“Okay. So that’s not it.” Magnus states, when Alec puts his stele away and reaches for his hand again.

Catarina looks at them confused, and they both realize that they haven’t really explained yet, what happened in Edom.

So they do. Magnus finds out how overwhelmed Alec felt when he showed up in there. He knew that Edom might have this kind of effect on angel-blooded person, but still never wanted to test this theory. Especially not on Alec, but it happened, they can’t take it back now.

Magnus quickly sums the rest of events up, because there are more important things than the details now. For example, finding out what’s going on with his boyfriend.

“So, Asmodeus just-“ Cat tires to wrap her head around what she just heard, but Alec cuts her off.

“Look, can we just…” He sighs and turns to both of them. “Can we leave this for a moment. I just feel like I need some rest, I’ll be fine.”

Magnus wants to argue, because there’s no way he’ll just go to sleep peacefully when he doesn’t know what’s going on with Alec. But when his eyes meet Alec’s, full of exhaustion, he can’t deny him getting the rest he didn’t experience for five days.

“Just give me a few hours.” Alec continues, and Magnus nods, then turns to Cat.

“I’ll probably need your help, Cat. My magic still feels unsteady and I…” Don’t want to risk hurting him, he thinks. “I could just use some help, so if you would stay or-“

“Magnus, of course I’ll help.” Catarina resorts without hesitation, but then moves get up. “But, I think I’ll head home to Madzie now. You both get some rest, and call me when you’re ready, okay? The most important thing is you’re back.”

She looks at Magnus with the knowing look, and he loves her a little bit more, because of how she knows when to give them some time alone. He wouldn’t mind Catarina staying over, but still he wants a moment alone with Alexander.

He gets up to squeeze Cat into yet another hug, but before they let go of each other, Magnus is hit with a sudden realization.

“Wait,” he says before Catarina gets to move away. “What about the others, we should let them know that Alec and I are both back.”

To be honest, he’s surprised that only Cat came barging in. It’s good, because he doesn’t want to be overwhelmed with so many people just yet, but still…

“Actually, I haven’t told the rest I was going.” Alec gets up from the couch, much more stable now. “Only Cat knew.”

“So, you went to Edom and…” Magnus lets the sentence trail off with a sigh.

Okay, he thinks. We definitely need to talk.

“Still, we should-“ He tries to continue, but Alec stops him.

“Can we wait?” He puts his hand on Magnus’ arm. “Until… just until we know what’s up.”

With me, Magnus is sure Alec thinks, but doesn’t say. And for the first time he sees that his Shadowhunter is also pretty scared and worried about this whole thing. And who would blame him? It’s his life that’s at stake.

“I told Izzy I’ll be staying the night here, but since it’s over…” Alec carries on. “I’ll just text her I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“I can talk to her, that you still need some time.” Catarina offers, clearly noticing the way Alec’s eyes lit up with scare.

Magnus just nods at both of them, not being able to deny Alec anything now. Whatever he needs, Magnus will do for him.

“Okay, I’m gonna go.” Cat states and moves to the door. “Call me when you’re ready.”

With that, she leaves.

Alec almost immediately slumps down on the couch, hiding his face in his palms. Magnus sits down next to his, his hand going around Alec’s back, running up and down lightly in a comforting gesture.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, and urges his face from his hands.

“I should be asking you.” Alec replies and Magnus sighs.

“Alec-“

“Magnus,” he states firmer than he looks like he could. “You spent four days with your father in hell. If you’re not okay, it’s fine. I just need to know. And I’m sorry I let you get there, and that you needed to stay there for that long-“

“Alexander.” Magnus cups his face gently and creases his cheeks. “You have nothing to be sorry for, it was my choice. And I’m fine. Since I’ve got you here, everything is great. I just need to know, if you’re fine too.”

Alec clearly struggles with the answer. Silently deciding if he should lie to Magnus only to make him less worried, or to tell the truth. He seems to realise, that Magnus will see through him, so there’s no point of lying.

“I don’t know.” He says after a while. “To be honest I’m… pretty scared.”

Magnus exhales heavily and pulls Alec back into his arms again.

He’s mad. But only at himself, for not preventing this from happening. He should have done more to make sure Alec would stay out of this. But what more could he do? There wasn’t time and-

“I don’t regret this.” Alec’s words pull him out of his thoughts as he turns in his arms to look at him. “I never would, not when this got you back to me, but I just… I don’t really know what to think now.”

Magnus understands, this thing is rather confusing, and he doesn’t know what to think himself.

“I didn’t expect you to come get me.” He confesses after a while. “I didn’t want you to, because I was scared what my father would do. I should make sure that you won’t get there somehow…”

“I don’t think you would be able to stop me.” Alec smiles softly, his own hand reaching to touch Magnus’ cheek. “I just wish it didn’t take me that long to-“

“Alec, no.” Magnus states. “What you did, was very stupid. But it worked. And I can’t even thank you enough for bringing me back, but I’m not-“

“Don’t say you’re not worth it.” Alec interrupts. “You’re worth more than anything to me. No matter what your father did.”

Magnus smiles a bit sadly, and leans down to kiss him, because there is nothing but truth in his words, he can hear it in his tone, in the way his face falls all serious. He loves him with all his heart. With all his being.

“We’ll figure it out, right?” Alec asks after a while, since the conversation has died down. The uncertainty and fear in his voice makes Magnus answer him instantly.

“Of course we will, angel.” He places a light kiss to his temple. “It’s okay, that you’re scared, but I promise you, I won’t stop till we find out what’s going on.”

“Okay.” Alec seems to relax a little as his head falls back down to Magnus’ chest. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, darling.”

Oh, how he missed saying that.

Not long later, they both move to the bedroom. Alec falls asleep almost immediately when his head touches a pillow, only waiting for Magnus’ content arms to wrap around him again. He snuggles closer to him, till his head is resting in the crook of Magnus’ neck, as he inhales deeply. Magnus is pleased to just lay beside him, and watch him, until sleep overcomes him too.

He wakes up a few hours later, because there are still things bothering him, and he just can’t let go completely. Alec looks fine, nothing visible is happening to him, but that doesn’t make it any better. He wants to do a quick spell and check on him, even if it’ll probably give them nothing, but he feels his magic is dangerously unsteady, so he just can’t find himself to try and use it on Alexander now.

He decides to get up and call Catarina, so she can take some time and then come here. But as soon as he moves even the slightest bit, Alec’s hand grabs his.

“Where are you going?” He asks as he stirs awake and rubs his eyes in a sleepy gesture.

“I was just going to call Cat, tell her she can come soon.”

“Can you stay a little bit longer?” Alec throws his arm around Magnus’ middle and hugs him tightly, so who is Magnus to refuse him now. He moves down on the bed, and kisses Alec’s forehead, to soon enough receive a kiss on the lips from Alec, long, a lingering one. The Shadowhunter puts his hand on his neck and brings him closer. They kiss until the need of air overcomes them, creating only a few inches of space between them, foreheads pressed together.

“I missed you.” Alec whispers against his lips, following his words with yet another soft kiss.

“I missed you too, angel.”

Alec smiles at him, and Magnus easily reciprocates. He still looks a bit tired, but the hint of fear is still present in his eyes, so Magnus decides they need to get rid of it as soon as they can.

He only hopes that when they find out what’s going on, they will be able to fix it. That he will be able to fix it.

“You ready to get up?” Magnus asks and Alec hangs his head down on a pillow with a growl. “I promise, you’ll get back to sleep soon enough.”

“With you?” Alec’s voice is soft, but still uncertain like Magnus would disappear as soon as he lets go of him.

“Of course, darling. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You mean it this time?”

There’s no anger in Alec’s voice, but still Magnus feels awful at breaking this promise he kept giving Alexander repeatedly.

“Alexander, I’m sorry-“

“No, I get it.” Alec interrupts quickly. “I know why you did it, and I should be the one to thank you, because without you, New York would have already burned down in flames.” He moves to sit on the bed, cupping Magnus’ face between his palms. “But still, it hurt. God, Magnus it just hurt so much.”

He knows, and he hates himself for causing Alec this kind of pain.

“But I know you hurt too.” Alec continues. “And with your father… I can’t even imagine how hard it must have been for you.”

Magnus exhales heavily, but doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t know what to say. It’s been hard, but his father wasn’t exactly so awful. This talk on the balcony… it proved Magnus that Asmodeus is capable of just feeling something. And just like if Alec was reading his mind, he found out what these feeling were about. Who they were about.

“So let’s just…” Alec chuckles as he says the next words. “Stay in the here and now?” Magnus can’t help but laugh softly at Alec quoting his own words to him. “Let’s just… we’re here. Together. That’s all that matters.”

Magnus nods and connects their lips again. His hands slide down from Alec’s hair to his neck, and down, but when they reach his chest, Alec flinches slightly at the touch.

“Did it…” Magnus starts, pulling his hand of Alec’s chest to settle in on his hip. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Alec answers instantly. “I just… I don’t know, sorry-“

“Alexander it’s fine.” Magnus swipes his palms on his sides, but Alec still looks guilty at his previous reaction. “Really.”

Alec nods, but looks down, so Magnus ducks his head to catch his eye.

“Did he, left any mark?” He asks, because if he did, this might give them some clue.

“I… don’t know.” Alec replies. “I don’t feel like there’s anything there, but… we should check.”

Magnus nods and catches the hem of Alec’s shirt between his fingers, looking questioningly at him with his eyebrows raised, only pulling the t-shirt up, after receiving a nod in answer. He gently gets it over his head, and then his eyes are tracing Alec’s body for any marks.

“There’s nothing there.” Magnus states, gaze focused at the spot where his father’s hand was resting a few hours ago. Then Alec takes his palm, and places it at this spot, not flinching from the touch this time.

“Magnus if…” He starts and takes a deep breath. “If anything happens to me, because of… this.” His head points lightly on Magnus’ hand down on his chest. “It’s not your fault, nothing is okay? Just like you did, I made the decision, and I get to live with the consequences.”

“But, if it wasn’t for me-“

“But it was for you, Magnus.” Alec doesn’t let him finish. “And I would do anything for you, you know that. And you’re not alone, you don’t need to be the one making sacrifices all the time. Let someone help you. Let me, help you.”

Now I need to help you.  Magnus thinks, but only nods at Alec in response.

“I…” Magnus begins. “Alexander, I just don’t want to be the cause of your pain anymore.” He says, barely holding back the sob trying to escape his lips.

“Baby, you’re not. You never are.” Alec says smiling softly at him. “You’re worth it, you’re worth everything, even the pain.”

With that Alec wraps his arms around him and just holds him tightly. They stay like this for a while, until Alec pulls back and looks at him.

“I think it’s time we call Cat.” He says, the nervous look returning to his face, so Magnus just needs to kiss him to try to erase it. It doesn’t help, but Alec still tries to smile at him.

Catarina arrives, and they settle back in the living room. After preforming a few spells, that were supposed to check Alec’s health condition, they haven’t found anything unusual. Magnus feels his magic calming as he slowly starts to perform in on his boyfriend, when the emotions are settled a bit. Magnus sighs in defeat as yet another spell gives them nothing. He gets up from the couch he’s been seated on with Alec, and starts to pace around the living room, trying to come up with some solution.

“Alec, you need to help us out here.” Catarina says as she takes a place next to him on the couch. “Maybe, try and tell us what if felt like, or do you feel like there’s anything lacking?”

“I don’t know, Cat.” Alec replies, his voice stating a failure. “I don’t feel like anything is different.”

“Well, he must have taken something.” Magnus resorts, not stopping his movements, tapping his finger on his mouth nervously. “Besides your angelic abilities, what else could Asmodeus want from you?” He asks more himself than Alec, but then his boyfriend’s head snaps up, like it does when he’s hit with some realization.

Magnus interrupts his pacing and makes his way closer to Alec.

“What is it?” He asks carefully as the younger man turns to face him.

“It didn’t feel like he took something away.” Alec states and then turns more confused. “More like, he was giving something, pouring into me.”

That’s something. But Magnus is not comforted at this thought. What if his father injected something in Alec? Some disease, that might be slowly killing him from the inside? There is just so many scary possibilities, that Magnus doesn’t even want to think of. But he has to, he’ll go through every single option he can come up with, trying every spell to detect it, or even create new ones.

But where to start…

“Cat, we should do the demon blood tracking spell.” Magnus states and both Catarina and Alec turn to him.

“Why?” She asks before the other gets to.

“Because if you say,” he looks back at Alec. “that it felt like he gave you something, that might be an amount of his demon blood. We’ll do the spell to see if there are any traces of it in your system.”

Alec seems to be wrapping his head around it before he speaks.

“And what if there is?” He fidgets nervously on the couch. “I mean, what if the blood is in my system?”

Magnus wishes he had an answer to that, but demon and angel blood don’t mix, not naturally. When he thinks of Jonathan, how Valentine injected him with demon blood, what he became… He has no idea how this would affect Alec. And as he looks down on his boyfriend, he can see the fear raising in his eyes, when Magnus doesn’t have an answer for him.

“It’s just one possibility.” Magnus states as he get to kneel in front of Alec, taking his hand into his own. “It doesn’t need to be true. There are lots of other things-“

He bits his tongue  before he gets to say anything else, because clearly stating all the other things his father could do to Alec won’t help him feel any better.

“Okay, do the spell.” Alec says firmly, nodding to Magnus and squeezing his hand tighter.

“I’ll go look for the potion needed for this one.” Cat simply points out, and then makes her way to the apothecary, giving Magnus a moment alone with Alec.

The Shadowhunter leans back on the couch, his head fallen back, just staring at the celling, and Magnus takes a deep breath before he starts talking.

“Darling, it’s gonna be fine.” He tries to convince him. “I’ll fix it, I promise.”

“I know,” Alec sighs and turns to look at him. “I’m just… I don’t know Magnus, I don’t know how should I feel with all this.”

“There’s no right way for you to feel.” Magnus states when his hands finds Alec's, squeezing it gently. “You don’t need to explain it.”

Alec nods, and Magnus leans in to kiss him, he hopes it’ll give him at least a bit of comfort.

“Whatever happens.” Magnus says when they pull apart. “I’ll never leave you, I’ll always love you, angel.”

Alec smiles lightly, as Magnus places a tender kiss to his forehead. Then Catarina emerges to the room again, holding a vial in her hand. She smiles at the sight of them curled on the couch together, and then steps closer.

“Drink this.” She hands Alec the vial with a dark green fluid, and he winces at the sight of it. “It tastes better than it looks, I promise.” She adds when she notices Alec’s expression.

He mumbles a quiet ‘okay’ and swallows the content of the vial in one go.

“What now?” He asks, his gaze flying between Magnus and Cat.

“Now, we get to work.” Magnus states as he snaps his fingers and blue flames start to dance around his fingers.

He didn’t really got the chance to enjoy his magic, since he got it back. That’s not such time either. He needs to focus on Alec.

He catches him looking down on his hand with a soft smile, and can’t contain his own from widening a bit.

Magnus slowly lets the magic go around Alec, and he focuses at the feeling, searching his body for any traces of demonic essence.

He’s nervous too. Everything feels fine, and he’s just about to give up, when something… something just doesn’t feel right.

He locks his eyes with Alec, and can see the moment his Shadowhunter notices the panic raising in his eyes, his own expression turning worried.

“What is it?” Alec asks, not even hiding the fear from his tone. “It’s the demon blood?”

“No.” Magnus states, because the spell hasn’t found any traces of it. And the spell is never wrong, Magnus knows since he’s the one who created it. Besides, if he had demon blood, runes wouldn't work on him. They would burn his skin, and the one Alec drew earlier on his forearm clearly didn't. “There’s just something off.”

He can’t explain it. It’s like something is different in Alec’s body, but he can’t decide if it’s good or bad either. But knowing his father it can’t be anything good.

It’s almost like eternity was coursing in Alec’s veins.

Eternity.

No. It can’t be.

Or can it?

Magnus gets up from the couch before he even realises it.

“What’s off?” Alec asks and he sounds like he’s repeating this question, which only makes Magnus sure he was too deep in his thoughts to hear him earlier.

“Give me a minute.” He states and quickly heads to the apothecary to get a potion he thinks might be able to confirm his suspicions.

“Magnus…” He hears Catarina call after him, but doesn’t stop. Focused on his task at hand.

Would his father do it? Why would he do it? It doesn’t make sense, nothing makes sense and it’s just so, so confusing.

He quickly scans the shelves, actually surprised he knows where to look for it, since he hasn’t been in this room or more than a month. He spots the vial on a top shelf and quickly grabs it returning to the living room. Then, coming to stand in front of Alec he gives him the potion.

“Drink.”

“What is it?” Alec asks as he gets up from the couch.

Magnus sighs and begins to explain, turning to face both Catarina and his boyfriend.

“It’s an old potion, I created it with Ragnor when there was this weird epidemic in the late 30s, that somehow affected the Warlocks.” Alec still just looks confused, so Magnus continues. “They were losing their abilities one by one, and we made it to find out what traits are still present. It creates a swirl of magic which lits up in a specific colour around a person who drinks it. Every colour represents different Warlock trait.” Magnus explains furthermore. “Yellow, means magic is still present in the person, green revels their Warlock mark, red states the appearance of demon blood, and purple means immortality. We also used it to identify if a person who pretended to be a Warlock actually was one.”

Alec just looks at him, trying to wrap his head around the amount of information, when Cat seems to recall this potion in her mind, and trying to read Magnus’ expression.

“So, you think your father gave me one of the Warlock traits?” Alec asks, when he registers and makes sense of Magnus’ words. “Why?”

“I don’t know, Alec.” Magnus says with probably too much frustration than needed. “Can you please just drink it, so we can find out?”

“Yeah.” Alec murmurs and takes the vial from Magnus’ hand. He takes a deep breath, before drinking the whole thing.

At first nothing happens, and it both worries Magnus and makes relief spread in his chest. But then, the swirl of magic appears around Alec, and starts to take colour…

Magnus just looks at him, and freezes.

“How is this possible?” Catraina asks, he eyes focused on Alec too.

Alec looks down on himself and doesn’t say anything, just staring at the purple magical flames around him.

“I don’t understand.” He says when the magic starts to fade. “You said there’s no demon blood in my system.” He fixes his gaze on Magnus, and the Warlock for the first time in really long can’t read Alec’s expression.

“Because there isn’t. The spell can’t be wrong. And your runes still work...”

“So how to explain this?” He questions, but Magnus doesn’t have any answers.

How? Magnus stopped asking himself that question if it comes to his father. The Prince of Hell clearly has his ways, he can do anything he wants, is capable of unimaginable thing. But why would he do this?

Nobody has said it yet. And Magnus knows it needs to be him, to state the obvious that they all know, but are too afraid to admit.

“Can we be sure?” Cat speaks, before Magnus gets to.

In all the time he’s been using this potion, since the day he created it with Ragnor it always worked. Always confirmed what the other Warlocks felt like. If Magnus can’t trust himself, he for sure trusts Ragnor.

“I… I think we can.” Magnus states, and looks back at Alec, only to see him looking down on the floor, his face scrunched in thinking. “Alexander,” He tries and Alec’s head snaps up, the unreadable expression still on his face. Magnus takes a deep breath and comes closer to him, gently putting a hand on his arm.

“I know what purple means, Magnus.” Alec says, avoiding Magnus’ gaze.

I know you know, Magnus thinks. But I need you to hear it.

“Alexander,” he starts again and Alec finally looks back at him. “My father took your mortality.” He swallows before adding. “You’re immortal.”

Alec stares back at him, but doesn’t say anything. Magnus can recognise a trace of fear and shock on his face, and a lot more emotions he can’t really make out.

“I…” Alec begins and then steps away from Magnus pulling his hand out, to gesture that he wants some space. “I need some air.”

With that, he turns around and steps out through the balcony door.

Magnus wants to go and follow him immediately, but Cat stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Give him a minute.” She says quietly. “It’s a lot to take it.”

Magnus struggles to stay in place, but then nods admitting Cat’s right and slumping down and the couch to hide his face in his hands.

Is it the worst thing that his father could done? No. Does it make it any better? No, because he’s just dropped a bomb on Alec that he’s gonna live forever. And it’s terrifying. Immortality is a burden, Magnus knows it the best. To watch the people you love age and die… there’s no pain like it. And it all because of him. He will cause Alec this pain, because it was him who Alec saved.

“He’s gonna hate me, Cat.” Magnus states still not pulling his hands from his face.

“What are you talking about, Magnus?” She asks, urging his head up, so he can look at her, as she seats herself on a couch next to him.

“He did it for me, and now… immortality is a burden Cat, we know it the best.”

“Alec would never hate you.” Catarina shakes her head. “Magnus, he totally broke down when he lost you. He was going out of his mind, not sleeping, not eating, not leaving his office. He wasn’t able to function properly. He loves you, more than anything, and you know it.”

“I know, but this…” He sighs. “This is big, huge. I would never ask him for this sacrifice, he doesn’t want this and-“

“How do you know?” Cat interrupts. “How do you know he doesn’t want this? Did you two talk about this?”

“No, we didn’t.” Magnus answers after he thinks for a bit. Every conversation they had started about this always ended with a fight, so they just kept avoiding it. “But why would he-“

“So he could be with you. Forever.” Catarina states firmly and he feels her gaze on him even when he looks down.

Could Alec want it? Forever with him? Magnus secretly did. He does. But he would never make Alec do this for himself. If he found a way, he would offer him a choice, but now…

“Look, Magnus.” Cat stars as she takes his hands in hers. “This love you have, it’s stronger than anything. Stronger than anything that’s broken. It can fix everything. He accepts you, he never feared you and he stayed. Even after you opened up about your past to him. He’ll always stay. Didn’t you think for a little while, that he might want forever with you too, but he’s just too scared to admit it?”

Magnus looks back at her, but can’t find himself to say anything. It’s all true. Alec isn’t like anyone else. He’s been special form the start, accepted him as he is, never tried to change him and never used him, like other people did. But he’s never thought… never dared to think that he might have this forever.

Catarina sighs as she realises he’s not going to give her any answers, so he squeezes his hand and speaks.

“Just talk to him.” She gets up from the couch and moves back towards the apothecary. “I’ll be there in case you need me.”

Magnus manages a slight nod, as he gets up too and heads through the balcony doors.

Now he was as good as useless.

He pressed his fingers more firmly into Alexander’s wrist, feeling for the steadiness of his pulse. The quiet, fluttery thumping was a little fast, but healthy. An anchor. Alexander was his anchor, his rock, even while asleep. The thought should scare him. But somehow he couldn’t muster the energy for it. Cat tilted her head at him knowingly. “I rigged the room,” she told him. “You’ll be able to hear Alec’s breathing and pulse from anywhere in the house.” She rose, packing away the remaining bits of her medical equipment with an air of strung out fatigue. “You don’t have to sit here and watch him.” This was punctuated with a pointed look at Magnus. “You can eat. And rest. And have some time, to yourself.” Magnus nodded. “I suppose that I should sleep.” “Can I trust you to do that?” Cat asked, and the question was only halfway a joke. Both of them knew that there had been times in Magnus’s life where he had answered that question with a negative.

He knew that if he asked her, Cat would stay. But he also knew that she was eager to get back to the child in her care. “Yes, Cat, thank you. Now please, go home to Madzie.” She sighed, reaching out with one free arm to wrap Magnus in a quick, tight hug.  He accepted it, breathing her in and trying to pretend that it was comforting, instead of a reminder that he could no longer feel the buzz of her magic mingling with his, quick and smooth and frazzled as it always was. Had been. He knew that she could feel the difference too. “Take care of yourself, Magnus. Okay?” She leaned back to look him in the eye. “Call me if you need me.” “I will,” he lied. Her lip turned up wryly. “Goodnight, Magnus.” A quick peck on his cheek, and then she opened a portal in one fluid movement and stepped through. Magnus dropped his shoulders wearily. Alec’s deep and even breathing punctured the darkness in waves, sure and regular against the silence in Magnus’s mind. It was a comfort, but also a reminder. He sunk down to perch on the edge of the bed. “Alexander…” He couldn’t finish the thought. What could he say?  I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you? Thank you for being okay?

My condolences, for your unfortunate luck in falling in love with a half-demon storm of man?

Instead, he settled for leaning forward to brush his lips against Alexander’s forehead.  

-- -- --

“You’re here,” Magnus said. He poured himself another two fingers of his drink, taking a quick shot of it before spinning the glass idly in his hand. “I’m surprised that you came.” The living room was dark, fragmented only by the lamp beside him and the one across from him. Bathed in that orange-tinted circle of light, sitting on the couch as if he’d never left, Ragnor smiled. Magnus looked back down at his hands. “I had wondered if you might have been…” “An apparition of your magic?” Ragnor’s lip quirked up again. “No,” he said, shifting his hands one over the other, palms up, as if he himself were about to cast a spell right then. “Your magic always did protect you well, but I’m afraid that even it can’t quite get my image right.”

Magnus snorted. He took another sip, letting his gaze linger on the amber liquid as it made rocky waves in his glass. He resolutely ignored the did. “Perhaps I could cut back on the martinis.” Ragnor smiled. “My dear friend,” he said, leaning forward, even as Magnus shuffled forward to meet him in the middle; he grasped the corner of Magnus’s chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. “You always were a foolish, foolish drunk. And—“ he added, leaning back again with a near audible stretch, “we both know that that abomination of a drink is not even close to a martini.” Magnus nodded absently, but couldn’t muster a retort. Instead he reached again for the silence, feeling needy for its reprieve. Unexpectedly, and rather uncomfortably, he was met with the jumbled noise of the cars going by on the road outside his window. He had put up wards to seal the sound out of his loft-- hadn’t he? He must have removed them. After all, time hadn’t been moving in the most linear fashion, recently. Just one more unfortunate consequence of war. “When you met me.” Magnus inhaled raggedly and let it go in a rush. “I was…” “A tremendously traumatized young man.” Ragnor’s voice was gentle. Magnus spun a ring around his finger. “Yes.” The light from the jewelry cast out around him in little spirals and dots of gold, reflecting off the window behind Ragnor’s image. “Nevertheless, I was… I was Asmodeus’s son. I am Asmodeus’s son.” Ragnor nodded, raising a pointed eyebrow. In the back room, Alec snorted and shuffled, blankets rustling and breathe speeding up before settling. “I fought so hard,” Magnus whispered, mostly to himself. “I tried so hard to be better than him.” I tried to be good, he almost added. I tried not to be destruction, but still I named myself in its honour and I walked in its wake. Ragnor’s eyes glinted. “You have always been a better man than him, Magnus.” What Ragnor meant was, you didn’t need to try. What Ragnor meant was, you’ve always been good. They’d played this game, had this back and forth, hundreds of times in hundreds of different ways over the course of Magnus’s long life. In speeches, in looks, in cups of tea, in drunken monologues and in moments that Magnus would never have let anyone else see. They didn’t need words anymore. Ragnor, who had found his own name in the concept of endings, had always looked at Magnus’s destruction and seen hope. “What would I do without you?” Magnus asked. It was automatic, a question that he had asked aloud to his friend many times before. This time, the implications hit him with a suddenness that left him winded. He choked on the urge to try to snatch the words back, take them deep into his chest where the coldness of the night around them couldn’t bear witness to them. Ragnor seemed to sense the delicacy of Magnus’s sudden anxiety, and left a soft pause before speaking. “You would be even more of a miserable wretch than you are now.” That startled a laugh from him. It bubbled out of Magnus from somewhere desperate and a little animalistic, a hysterical noise that he was glad that no one was around to hear. In the back, Alec’s heart rate was steady, though he mumbled something in his sleep. “What will I do without my magic?” Magnus asked, once he’d composed himself again. It came out like a plea. “I have nothing left, Ragnor.” Please, my oldest friend, tell me that I’m wrong again. Ragnor shook his head, some of his hair falling slightly forward to lay against his left horn. “You know that that’s not true.” Magnus twisted his ring again, watching the light spin over and over. A never ending, never breaking series of colour. “I’m going to die.” This time Ragnor rolled his eyes. “You were always going to die, my incorrigible friend. If you’re forgetting that, then perhaps I should take the whisky away from you.” Tears sprung, unbidden, to prick at Magnus’s eyes. Spitefully, he let them. Screw composure. Not now, not after this. His father had already taken his dignity.

Ragnor shuffled forward, leaning to pick up Magnus’s hand where he’d been reaching again for his glass. Ragnor caught it and held it firmly between both of his own, familiar warmth somehow seeping through to Magnus’s skin in a way that he didn’t want to understand. He didn’t care anymore how he could be with his friend, only that he could. Still, he stiffened. The last time his hand had been held was when he’d clung onto Alexander’s earlier that day; when his lovely, direly injured soldier had been lying there, on the concrete, gasping for air and looking like- “You will not die alone.” Magnus swallowed as the tears finally sprung forward, clouding his vision and choking up his throat. He raised his unclaimed hand and grabbed at his collar, feeling the need to claw the fabric off of himself. “I know.” His voice was hoarse, but steady. He thought of Catarina, with her freely given warmth and infinite understanding. And Raphael, troubled though the boy may be; though the thought that he was no longer able to support his son only caused him to dig his nails deeper into his collar. And Alexander… He glanced up at Ragnor, finally, who looked at him fondly and squeezed his hand. “No, you don’t,” Ragnor corrected gently. “But you will, my friend.” Ragnor’s gaze was intent, and Magnus found himself unable to dissolve the intensity in his words. His friend had always had him pinned like that. He supposed it was his weakness. “There will come a time when you will truly understand the magnitude of love that you have been able to build around you, Magnus. And then you will never feel alone again,” Ragnor smiled, revealing a rare flash of his teeth, “With or without me around to bang it into your stubborn head. That I can promise you, if nothing else.” Magnus smiled wetly, tasting salt on the edge of his tongue. He’d missed Ragnor, more than he had ever let himself think possible. “Your promises do have a pretty good track record,” Magnus conceded. Ragnor winked, and then paused, shifting his chin up to look behind Magnus’s head. His expression softened. “Here comes one promise right now.” Alexander. Magnus turned, to see that Ragnor was right-- Alexander stood in the doorway of his bedroom. The bed-rumpled Shadowhunter was half-slumped against the door frame and rubbing at his arm, watching Magnus with a curious expression. “Magnus.” His tilted head filled in the inflection, the question clear in his eyes. Magnus smiled. “I’m coming to bed, Alexander,” he assured, nodding at him. His heart constricted heavily. “Just give me one moment to finish up here, hmm?” Alexander nodded, dazed and tired. But he paused, for one electrified second, to hold eye contact with Magnus; then turned, as if he hadn’t just split Magnus’s heart open for that one infinite moment, to head back to bed. Leaving Magnus once again alone in the darkness. “My apologies for the interruption,” Magnus said to the emptiness, once he knew for certain that Alexander was out of earshot. He turned back to the couch where Ragnor had been sitting, knowing already in his heart that it would be empty. He had known as soon as the warmth had left his hand. “You’re right, though,” Magnus whispered anyway. “Like I said, my dear cabbage, you always give the best advice.”

After an unsurprising beat of silence, Magnus rose wearily, joints crackling in protest. He shuffled himself quietly into the bedroom, shedding his clothes as went until he was wearing nothing but his shirt and briefs. Lifting the blanket, he snuggled in gently next to Alexander, near enough to feel his warmth but careful to keep a safe distance from his injuries. “I miss you,” he told the ceiling. Inexplicably, foolishly unable to let go of his end of the conversation. He rubbed at an eye childishly, angry with his tears. “I wish you were still here with me for this.”

But if there was anything that Magnus had learned in his long life, it was that wishes weren’t worth much.

In his sleep, Alec grabbed for him, tugging Magnus gently toward his chest. Magnus smiled cautiously. Perhaps, he thought, he could allow the heat and closeness to make him feel safe. Just for one night.

Through the ringing she hears someone screaming in the distance -- the back alley behind the building. Her feet start running before her brain can catch up. When she rounds the corner the sight stops her dead in her tracks: Magnus kneeling on the asphalt, bent over a body sprawled out on the ground, screaming, screaming out his lungs for help, god, somebody help. Izzy’s jaw clenches so tightly her teeth hurt, she can’t breathe. On the ground, chest barely rising, eyes half-closed, is Alec. His right wrist is twisted in a way that looks wrong. A single arrow sticks out of his chest. One of Alec’s arrows. He needs help. Why is no one coming. Where is everyone?

She barely notices Luke running up behind her, doesn’t quite hear him as he calls the Institute, then Maryse. Suddenly she’s on the ground beside Magnus, cradling her brother’s uninjured hand that is still holding his stele and Magnus’ hand. The world around Izzy disappears until it’s just her and Magnus and Alec, who has gone still, so still. At some point tears had started flowing down her face all on their own, soaking Alec’s shirt, the perfect companion for Magnus’ dry, hoarse sobs. When the medics show up and she has to let go of Alec’s hand, she clings to Magnus instead. If you let go I’m not sure I can stand.

They manage to get up somehow, and follow through the portal into the Institute. Every Shadowhunter within sight of them is staring in shock at the leader of the New York Institute lying on a stretcher, broken and bleeding and seemingly lifeless. Stop looking at him. Stop looking at us.

She finds herself outside the infirmary, this time holding not one hand but two. Her mother is  gripping her right hand tightly, her left hand is still holding Magnus’ right, strangely cold and clammy. Not too long ago they had been in this exact same spot, waiting for news about Max, if he would make it. That time, her big brother had been there, on this side of the door. Now he’s on the other. He has to make it. He will.

It’s nearly morning when a Silent Brother opens the door and gives his typical emotionless rundown of the diagnosis and procedures. Izzy’s thoughts catch on only a few words, and she nearly weeps: Stable condition. Expected to make a full recovery. Thank the angel.

A full recovery. Magnus barely hears the rest of the Silent Brother’s speech, but those words are enough. He releases a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. His legs give out and he sinks back onto his chair. He feels unbelievably tired. But Alexander will be alright. He made it.

After a short discussion with the Silent Brother, Maryse, and Isabelle, it’s decided that everyone should try and get a few hours of rest. Alec is sleeping now and won’t wake up anytime soon. Izzy offers to let him sleep in Alec’s room, but he knows he couldn’t take that right now. He needs to go home. Maryse calls him a cab. If you could see me now Alexander… no. You shouldn’t see me like this.

Magnus is shivering as he steps into the loft. Now that he is alone the strange new void inside him yawns like a chasm, cold and dark and hollow emptiness where his magic used to be. He had never felt as helpless as when he’d held Alec’s hand back in the alleyway. When Magnus was so afraid to leave him alone he couldn’t even run to get help. When he had to watch his love in pain, getting closer to death, and couldn’t do a single thing. My magic. It’s gone.

The stench of his father’s realm clings to him, to his clothes, his skin, his hair. Dust. Smoke. Decay. He has to get out of these clothes, take a bath. Maybe I’ll feel like myself again. Just a little.

He makes the bathwater as hot as he can tolerate and lowers himself in gingerly. His muscles ache like he’s run a marathon and then bench pressed an elephant. The heat relaxes his limbs even though it stings on his skin. Magnus lets his head sink under the water and closes his eyes. Down here there are no sounds but his own heartbeat in his ears. He toys with the thought of not coming up at all. Then he sits up and hugs his knees. They’re bruised and bloody from kneeling on the concrete. Magnus didn’t notice before, but the dull ache is starting to make them hard to ignore. It’s difficult to breathe, like a weight pressing on his chest. After a while Magnus is pretty sure it’s not from holding his breath.

Eventually Magnus steps out of the bathtub and heads to bed. He curls up under the covers, on one side of the bed. The other is painfully empty. Even after the hot bath a chill runs through his body. Like his bone marrow has turned to ice. It feels like a part of him has been removed, like his central nervous system has been ripped out through his skin. Magnus feels like crying, but no tears seem to be left. He feels like shouting, but his throat is still raw. So he just curls up even tighter and waits for sleep to come.

An ache, in his chest, like he’s been punched. Just below his collarbone. He curls the fingers on his right hand, and a shooting pain stabs up his arm. Ow. Ow ow ow. Fuck.

Around him there are quiet voices, the soft hum of machinery. The infirmary. He wants to open his eyes, but they won’t cooperate. He swallows and his throat feels like sandpaper. He croaks out something that sounds vaguely like water.

The commotion begins immediately. Chairs scraping, feet scrambling to get up, voices getting cautiously louder. People crowding around the bed, someone holds a glass of water to his lips, lifts his head a little. A hand slides into his. Alec finally manages to open his eyes.

He looks up into the faces of his family and friends. There’s his mother to his right, holding the glass of water. She smiles and runs a hand through his hair.

Jace is standing by the foot of the bed. He cradles his right wrist close to his chest, feeling his brother’s pain through their bond. He looks terrible, his eyes are red with dark circles etched underneath them. His shirt is filthy with dirt, blood, and some indeterminable black slime. He still manages to shoot Alec a weak grin and puts a gentle hand on his blanket-covered foot. He’s back, though. Magnus did it.

Simon is somehow still sleeping in a chair in the corner. He looks even worse than Jace, though he’s at least wearing fresh clothes. Probably because his old ones were unsalvageable. There are tear tracks down his soot-covered cheeks. Next to him sits Luke, shoulders hunched, defeated. He tries to give Alec a reassuring look, but fails.

Izzy sits on his bed, one knee pulled up next to his hip. She at least looks like she’s slept in the last 24 hours. Her relieved smile can’t hide the smudged eyeliner and mascara around her eyes. She’s holding a tissue bunched up in her fist. What have you been crying about, Iz?

A thumb rubs over the back of his left hand. On instinct, Alec squeezes softly. Magnus squeezes back. Alec is so relieved he feels like crying too. Even though Magnus’ hand is not warm like it should be. Even though he looks too tired. No. Everything’s gonna be alright. Magnus is here. He’s okay.

Alec has questions, of course. What happened after he passed out? Did they defeat Lilith? What about Jonathan? Did the possessed mundanes recover? Was anyone else hurt?

The others answer in turn. Then come the more painful questions: Where is Clary? Magnus, why are you so quiet?

Jace can’t finish recounting the events on the rooftop, he’s crying. Maryse walks over to hug him. Izzy continues, but her breath hitches in her throat as well. She tells him about the explosion, about Clary being gone when Jace got up there. About Simon being convinced he killed his best friend.

He looks over at Simon, who, mercifully, slept through this explanation. Alec can’t imagine the night he must have had.

Thankfully, Izzy says, they’re now pretty certain that Jonathan has somehow taken Clary (it says a lot about their lives in general that this is the good option). Jace and Simon looked for her all night and half the morning, and have only just returned. Luke has tried rallying the werewolves, but precious few are responding. It’s been a difficult morning, to say the least.

Something in Alec’s chest contracts tightly. Clary is annoying, sure, and stubborn, and hot-headed, and sometimes full of herself-- but she’s part of the team. Part of the family. Suddenly he misses the little fire-haired idiot terribly. His mind is already racing through their options, the resources they have at their disposal, when Izzy stops his train of thought with a very careful swat at his side. She gives him a look, she knows what he’s thinking. But first he needs to rest, to heal. She’s right of course.

So Maryse ushers everyone out of the room, even Simon, who is barely staying upright but still seems glad to see Alec awake. At last it’s only him and Magnus.

Alec finally asks the question that’s been hanging on his lips since he woke up, the question he is not sure he wants answered but can’t live without asking.

What’s wrong, Magnus?

When Magnus finishes his own recounting of last night’s events, Alec’s eyes sting and his hands are shaking. Of all the things he had thought it would take to bring Jace back, of all the prices he’d been willing to pay to get his brother back, this was not one of them. It was never supposed to be this. He was ready to let Jace tear him apart to buy some time, to put his own life on the line. But not Magnus’. That was out of the question and even the thought of Magnus endangering himself to fix a mistake he’d had nothing to do with makes him nauseous.

Magnus looks pale. His usual clean smell of sandalwood is still there, but the metallic, smoky undertone of power is gone. There is tension in his shoulders. His skin is colder than usual, and he shivers a little when he thinks Alec isn’t looking. Alec’s heart breaks every time he looks at him. Because of him, the man he loves let his own father tear a part of him out, leaving cold nothing where there used to be power, burning and strong and so, so alive. Because of him, Magnus’ magic is gone.

Alec pulls on Magnus’ hand, pulls him closer until he’s sitting on Alec’s bed, until he’s lying down with his head tucked into the crook of Alec’s neck, one arm wrapped carefully across Alec’s chest, their legs tangled, their deep breaths slowly synchronising. They lie like this for what feels like hours, until Alec manages to find his voice again, speaking past the lump that’s formed in his throat. I’m so sorry. Thank you.

The guilt is eating into Alec’s stomach like a hungry animal. He doesn’t deserve any of this, and he especially doesn’t deserve Magnus. Suddenly, saying thank you feels incredibly stupid. What is he even thankful for? Thank you Magnus, for sacrificing all your power to solve my problem? Thank you for caring so much about your disaster of a boyfriend, who has never sacrificed anything for you, not like this at least? Thank you for being a friend? It feels like an insult to everything Magnus has done. No, thank you is not enough. He’s not sure anything he could say would ever be enough.

Maybe Magnus didn’t hear him, Alec thinks, or maybe he fell asleep. But finally he swallows, whispers half into Alec’s shoulder. This was my decision. You have nothing to apologize for.

Alec turns his head and presses a kiss to Magnus’ forehead. Now the tears that were just a sting a little while ago roll down his cheeks, some of them falling into Magnus’ hair, tasting bitter with grief. But they take Alec’s guilt and regret and self-loathing with them, leaving an empty, clean feeling in his chest.

Magnus’ grip around Alec tightens, as though he wants to still the sobs that are passing through Alec’s body with only his arms, but his own body shuddering makes this attempt futile. They hold tightly to each other, the exhaustion and shock of the last few days finally catching up with them, the realization settling in how lucky they both are to still be able to hold each other after all that has happened.

Nothing happens. This was a mistake, his gut is telling him. He should listen, but still he tries again.

“Father.”

Still nothing.

He sighs and turns to leave the room. If this isn’t a sign to stop then he doesn’t know what would be. He’s just reaching the doorway, and then he hears a cold voice from behind him.

“Hello son.”

His whole body tenses at this words. He takes a deep breath again, before turning to face him.

Cat eyes are shining back at him, and as much as he hated his Warlock mark, he can’t say he didn’t miss them.

His father stands proudly, cane in his hands, dust from Edom still present on his shoulders, but, he looks powerful.

“I was waiting till you would call.” Asmodues continues, smile appearing on his face.

“Why?” Magnus grits through clenched teeth.

“That’s how you’re welcoming your father?” Asmodeus asks, raising his eyebrows.

“You’re not exactly welcomed here.”

His father sighs and steps through the pentagram. Magnus immediately stiffs up, as he stands closer to him now. He can feel his father’s breath at his neck, and it doesn’t help to keep calm.

“Then, why did you call for me?” He whispers into Magnus’ ear, circling him around as he shivers.

“Because I need answers.” He wishes the words would come out more confidently, but he’s scared. Of what he might hear, and of his father. He’s a riddle, he’s unpredictable in every way. Always ten steps ahead.

“Ask away, boy.” Asmodeus states as he stands in front of him, gesturing with his hand for Magnus to start talking.

And for the first time, Magnus looks into his eyes.

“Why do you want to give my magic to Jonathan?”

His father shrugs slightly.

“Because he wants to destroy the city.”

“This city is my home.” Magnus almost yells, struggling to keep his emotions from blowing up. “Don’t you think you’ve taken more than enough from me already?”

“Oh, maybe I did.” Asmodeus smirks again. “But you can have it all back.”

Magnus freezes at his words, holding his breath. Could he… No, everything always comes with a price.

“W-what do you mean?”

“I mean, you can have your magic back, I won’t give it to Jonathan, and your city will be safe.”

He can’t mean that. It seems too simple, and things are never simple with his father. There is a catch, there always is one. A price, that Magnus is not sure he’ll be willing to pay this time.

“What do you want?” He asks looking back at him.

“You son,” he states with fake care in his voice. “I want you back.”

And there it goes.

“I told you back then, I’m not coming back with you.” Magnus tries to reply calmly, but his tone is revealing his emotions.

“Oh, I know boy, and I thought I was fine with that, I really did. But your magic…” He shakes his head a little as he seems to seek for the right words. “It was not enough.”

Magnus turns his head away and looks down on the floor.

“I need you by my side son, ruling our home with me.”

“Edom is not my home, New York is.” He still doesn’t look up.

“Maybe now, but later, when he’ll be gone, you’ll hate it.”

Magnus gaze focuses back at him at this words and he freezes again. Fear and panic overcoming him. Cold shivers constantly running down his spine, and he tries very hard not to shake at the stand. How does Asmodeus know about Alec?

“I know everything son, I see everything.” His father answers as if hearing the question in his mind.

“I’m not immortal anymore, I can grow old with him, here.” Magnus holds onto the only glimpse of hope he has. His voice is shaking, but he desperately tries to hide it.

“But you can be again, and you want it, just say a word.” Asmodeus swirls his hand in the air and red flames appear on his fingertips. “You know it’s the only way to save another one of your lovers.”

“Alexander isn’t like anyone else.” Magnus blurts out before he gets to think this through.

“Why?” His father’s voice roars through the apartment. “Because he’s a Nephilim?!”

“No, because-“

“Because he claims he loves you? He’s a Shadowhunter, they’re heartless. He could never care for someone like you.”

“That’s not true!” Magnus’ voice breaks and he feels tears in his eyes. “He’s different.”

Asmodeus leans back and straightens a little, his face turning emotionless.

“So if you love him as much as you say, you’ll do the right thing to save him.”

Magnus’ lips form into a straight line as he tries to stop his tears.

“I can’t.” His voice turns out quiet, barely above a whisper. “It would break his heart.”

“But he would still be alive.”

Magnus looks down again, tears slowly escaping, floating onto his cheeks. Asmodues urges his head up with his cane.

“He made you weak. This is not what you are, Magnus.” He claims sadly.

He is. When it comes to love he is.

“You can save him,” His father carries on, the relaxed manipulative tone slowly driving Magnus crazy. “save everyone and the city, get your magic and immortality back. I'll give you enough power to defeat Jonathan. All you need to do in return is come with me.”

“Was it about this from the beginning? About me?” Magnus asks desperately. He doesn’t want this to be true. That he made a terrible mistake giving up his powers that night.

“Maybe not from the start.” Asmodeus resorts. “But then I realized how much I miss you, how lonely Edom is… And when the Morgenstern boy came asking for my help. I’ve seen it as a perfect opportunity to get you back.”

Magnus doesn’t say anything. Because he can’t. His thoughts keep coming back to Alec. To his smile, his words, to their kisses, their touches. To everything that made Magnus feel. Made him feel that he was alive, for the first time in a century.

His angel. How can he leave him?

But if it means saving him.

“Come on boy, time is running out.” Asmodeus says. “When you’re here thinking, he’s out there fighting. Maybe Jonathan is tearing him apart, right now.”

Magnus flinches, and his head snaps back to him.

“Everyone will be safe son, you’ll be the one who saved them.”

But how does it count if he doesn’t get to have Alec?

“I am your father, and deep down you know-“

“Stop!” Magnus yells through his tears. “If you really were my father you would let me be happy! Not taking my magic, and not taking me away from the man I love!”

Asmodeus just stares back at him.

“He’ll die, Magnus. If not today, or tomorrow he will die soon enough.” He puts his hands on Magnus’ shoulder and he shivers at the touch. “But you don’t want him to die today. You want him to have a good life. You’ll get to save him, if you come with me.”

Magnus looks around the room. So many memories, of him and Alec. Their time together has been the best time of his life, Magnus can admit it without a doubt.

He doesn’t want this to be over, but his father is right, he also wants Alec to live.

Even if it means living without him.

He tries to hold back the sob, but fails, and then his father is pulling him into his arms. He feels disgusted at this touch. Wants to break it, but he’s too weak, too helpless.

When Asmodeus pulls back from him, he doesn’t dare to look up. He stays quiet for a while, but he knows that by doing so, he’s giving his father an answer.

“Let me say goodbye.” He says, because other words can’t make it through his throat. He can’t say this, can’t agree out loud. It hurts, it burns, feels like a hell fire is raging inside his heart, he swears he can hear it break.

“Of course, son.” Asmodeus states with his hands on Magnus’ shoulders. “I’m not that merciless.”

How are you not? Magnus thinks but doesn’t dare to say.

He used to believe that there might be an ounce of goodness inside his father. That maybe if he stayed with him back then, when he was a child he would be able to get it out of him,

But now, as he stands right before a man, who thinks he has the right to call him his son… All of this hope vanishes.

“Now,” Asmodeus states, taking a step back. Sly grin widening on his face. “Let’s get to it.”

Before Magnus realizes what he means, he puts his hand on his chest and then Magnus feels it.

The warm, sparkling feeling starting to float into his body. The warmth… for the first time in a month he feels truly warm. He looks down and sees it. The sparks, blue flames all being poured into him. He feels the rush, it’s like electricity. Anyone who touched him now would get electrocuted. It almost feels like too much. So much power all at once. He inhales sharply as the feeling overcomes him. Time seems to slow down as the infinity starts coursing in his veins again.

And when Asmodeus steps away he almost chokes, rapidly trying to catch his breath.

“There you go.” He states with a devious smile. “You have time till the end of the night. If you’ll try any tricks with me, your lover boy won’t survive this.”

He pats him on a cheek and creates a portal for Magnus. He wants to leave as soon as it appears. Get away from his father, from a person he hurt him the most, who continues to hurt him. But before he gets to step through it, Asmodeus stops him with a hand of his forearm.

“Are we clear?” He asks in a low, dangerous tone.

Magnus nods and feels more tears streaming down his cheeks as he enters the portal.

Getting his magic back was supposed to be followed by this amazing feeling of happiness, relief and strength. But instead, he feels hollow. Even with the magic engulfing his whole body… there’s nothing to be happy about. He looks down on his hands, blue sparks dancing around them and all he wants to do is cry. Because this isn’t what it was supposed to be. Alec should be by his side. Together they should witness it, have a moment of bliss and now all he thinks about it that the next time he’ll see Alexander it’ll be his last.

He thinks of ways to device his father. He wants to take Alec and just get away with him. But he knows Asmodeus will find them everywhere, and if he hurts Alec, Magnus won’t be able to live with himself.

He feels the magic threatening to blow out of him. To explode. Similar to the night he saved Jace. He never thought of that as a mistake. The price was hell to pay, and at that time he didn’t think there could be something worse to bear.

Guess he’s been wrong.

Because this? This is the worst pain he’s ever felt during his long life, he’s sure of it.

He can feel the power of Edom sinking through the rift. He’s close.

He doesn’t know what to expect, so he basically runs down the street to get to the rest. And then he spots Jonathan. He’s standing with his hands in the air, waiting for a sign from Asmodeus.

Well, he won’t get one.

“Give me your power!” Jonathan screams at the heavens, and it should give Magnus a bit of satisfaction. But it doesn’t.

“Not today.” He states and throw his arms in front of him, blasting Jonathan will all he has, and a moment later his scream rips through the air.

His eyes quickly search Clary. She’s laying on the ground, but doesn’t look like she’s in pain, so Magnus figures out she managed to break the bond.

He feels powerful, more than ever. Like the magic returned with twice more force. He focuses it all at Jonathan.

And when he looks past Jonathan’s shoulder he sees him.

Alec is standing there, breathing heavily but he doesn’t appear injured. His eyes are widen in shock and Magnus has to look away because it just hurts too much.

He channels his emotions into Jonathan. Fear, anger, hate, the injustice.

It seems to be enough, because a moment later, Jonathans burned body falls down on the ground.

It all seems so simple now.

Magnus is breathing hard, all the magic is gathered around him like flames. Red, blue, orange they seems to have every colour. He tries to supress it, hold it back down in his fist, but he realizes he can’t.

He doesn’t have control.

He rapidly swirls his wrist around, snaps his fingers, tires to do anything to put it down, but nothing helps. It only seems to be getting worse. Tears are gathered in his eyes again, and he feels like he can’t breathe.

And then he hears his voice.

“Magnus…”

He still doesn’t look up, but he can feel Alec taking a step forward.

“Magnus, look at me.” Alec continues in his soft voice.

But he can’t. It hurts, his skin burns with magic, and maybe that’s what he deserves, to get consumed by it.

“Baby…” Alec voice is pleading as he gets closer to Magnus, and tears fall down the Warlock’s cheeks.

Alec was the one to show Magnus what true love is like. Because that’s what they have. It’s true in the purest way possible and he won’t ever be ready to give it up.

But he has to.

“Alec, step back.” He says through clenched teeth, still not looking up. The magic is burning brighter around him now.

Instead, Alec takes another step forward.

“Alexander, I mean it. I don’t want to hurt you.” He chokes out before another sob overtakes him.

“Look at me, love.” Alec doesn’t stop regardless Magnus’ words, his voice still calm.

And Magnus can’t resist the urge to see those beautiful hazel eyes now.

He looks up and sees Alec smiling softly, his eyes focused on him, glistened with tears.

“Hey.” Alec is stepping forward again, and Magnus needs to step back, he’s getting too close.

“Alec, stop. I’m serious. Get back.” He orders, looking him in the eyes.

“No.” The Shadowhunter states firmly.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Magnus’ voice breaks as he pleads, but Alec isn’t having any of it.

“You won’t.” He shakes his head. “I know you won’t.”

He’s still getting closer, but as Magnus looks back at him, he can’t find the strength to pull back.

And then Alec is right in front of him, putting his hands on his arms, sliding them down till they nearly touch Magnus’ wrists. It’s soothing, Alec’s touch, but still Magnus flinches, afraid to hurt him, trying to take a step back, but Alec’s firm grip doesn’t let him.

“It’s your magic.” Alec resorts, his eyes fixed on Magnus’. “It knows me. It won’t hurt me.”

And with that, he laces their fingers together, magic immediately dying on his hands and around them.

Alec is his anchor.

Every time he loses control, Alec is there to give it back to him.

Magnus looks down around them, letting out a breath he was holding. Then his sight falls at Alec’s face again. He smiles at him, but Magnus can see the question in his eyes.

But instead of asking, he pulls Magnus into his arms, holding him tightly.

And Magnus can’t hold back anymore.

He sobs into Alec’s jacket, clinging onto him like he’s his lifeline. He is. And Alec still holds him. Hands running up and down his back in a reassuring gesture.

“It’s okay. It’s fine.” Alec whispers into his ear, kissing is temple lightly.

It’s not. Nothing is okay, and he wants to tell him, but now… No, not here. They need to go back home. He won’t stand any goodbyes, but he owes it to Alexander.

They pull apart, but not far, still in each other’s arms. Alec’s palms move to his cheeks to wipe the tears lightly.

“Magnus, how-“

But before he gets to finish, Magnus is pulling him down for a kiss.

He’ll never get over kissing Alexander. Every time feels like the first, but also it always feels different. Magnus can’t explain it, never could. And as much as he wants to lose himself into kissing Alec for the rest of his life, he can’t stand the thought that soon enough he’ll be deprived of even the smallest of his touches.

When they part again, Alec still looks at him in question.

But then Jace is stopping their little moment, and Magnus is reminded of the presence of the others.

He glances around, seeing completely shocked expression, but they all seem fine. Safe. That’s all that matters, no one seems severely injured.

His family.

He takes them all in, probably seeing them for the last time, ever. It was remarkable to be a part of it. He’ll be grateful for it forever. For a family which didn’t judge, which accepted him and loved him, like he thought no one could ever.

“I’m sorry to break this to you Alec, but there are demons running around the city, we need to take care of that.” Magnus finally registers Jace’s words.

“I can’t…” Alec looks back down on Magnus, hesitant expression on his face. “I can’t leave now.” he turns back to Jace, but Magnus puts his hand on Alec’s cheek to stop him.

“Go, angel.” He hates saying this, hates that Alec needs to leave. But he needs to take care of the city. And Magnus still has some things to settle, he needs a moment. There’s still a bit of time, and he has to make sure Alec won’t do anything stupid when he’ll be gone. “Just be back soon.”

“But Magnus, how did you-“

“We’ll talk at home, all right darling?” He creases his cheeks softly. “I’m fine, I just need some rest.”

He lies and he hates it, but he needs Alec focused now, so he can be back soon.

“Just give me an hour, tops.” Alec states firmly.

“Go, save the world angel.” Magnus smiles as he feels another wave of tears forming in his eyes.

Then Alec quickly kisses him again, and when they pull back, Magnus creates a portal and steps through it.

He missed this, but he’ll miss him a million times more.

He’s just finished writing his letter to Catarina. He settled on the balcony, looking at the city below for the last time. Of all the houses he’s ever lived in, this feels the most like home. With a flick of his wrist he sends the letter to Cat’s home, knowing that she’s back at the hospital now, she won’t be back till the morning, so she won’t be able to stop him, which he knows she would try to do.

He’s finishing his drink, but instantly summons the other. It’s been nearly an hour, and Alexander should be back soon.

How to tell him? Is the question Magnus has been asking himself since the moment he agreed for his father’s terms. Maybe he should write him a letter too? Gather all his feelings in there. But no, he needs to see him, this last time. He wants Alexander to be the last thing he sees in this world.

As if answering his request, the door to the loft burst open, and Alec is running towards him, joining him on a balcony.

“Hi.” He leans in for a kiss and who is Magnus to deny him that now.

Oh, how he’ll miss this.

Their home, all of these little moments. Every welcome home kiss, every good night kiss, every touch, every word…

It’s not enough. It never was, and it would never be. He always wanted more with Alec.

“What is it?” Alec looks at him in concern, clearly seeing Magnus’ thoughts wandering somewhere else.

The time is running out. He needs to do this.

“You know I love you, right?” He begins, and desperately wants Alec to smile at his words, like he always does. But now he isn’t. And Magnus knows, he’s already figured out that’s something is terribly wrong.

He just nods.

“And you know I would always protect you, no matter what?” These words seem to have even worse effect, because now Alec looks terrified, and Magnus spots tears in the corner of his eyes.

“Magnus, what did you do?” Alec asks firmly.

Magnus exhales and puts his palms on Alec’s cheeks, feeling the warm radiating from his skin.

“You’re the most important person to me, ever.” Magnus carries on. “I love you, more than anyone ever, and I’d do anything if that meant you’d be safe.”

Alec is having none of it, still demanding for Magnus to say it, even though the Warlock knows, he has probably already figured it out.

“Magnus,” Alec starts with his shaky voice, swallowing thickly. “How did you get you magic back?”

And Magnus knows he has to answer.

“I was our only choice.” He states, wanting so badly for his voice not to break. He needs to be strong, for Alec. “I needed to get to my father-“

“No.” Alec shakes his head and Magnus’ hands fall down from his cheeks. “No, no.”

He basically begs, not even knowing who and for what, and as Magnus notices the tears escaping his eyes, he can’t hold back his own.

“No,” Alec’s head is moving franticly, repeating the only word that seem to get past the lump in his throat. “Please tell me you didn’t agree on this.”

His tone is pleading, and Magnus fiercely wants to give him the answer he desires.

But he can’t.

“Baby, please.”

He sounds wrecked, and Magnus hates it. Hates to break his heart in such way.

“Alexander, all that matters is that you’re safe, our city, our family-“

“Bullshit.” Alec states with more tears floating down. “How does it matter if you’re not here?”

“Alexander-“

“I can’t life without you.” Magnus didn’t think it was possible to get more broken, but as Alec’s pleading eyes are fixed on his and he repeats these words, he breaks a little bit more. “I told you that!”

“I know angel,” He tries to stop his tears, but fails. “but it’s better for you to live without me than-“

“It’s not.” Alec shakes his head again. “It’s not, and you know it.”

“It was our only choice.” Magnus echoes his words from earlier. “To save the city, to save-“

“There’s always another choice.” Alec steps closer to him, hooking his arms around his neck, and Magnus didn’t know how much he was craving his touch until now. “You taught me that.”

Magnus settles his hands on Alec’s waist, wanting him closer.

“You can’t do this.” Alec whispers. “I won’t survive that.”

I won’t too, Magnus thinks.

“You’re stronger than this, darling.”

“No, not without you.”

Magnus places his hands in Alec’s hair and pulls him down for a kiss. He can taste the salty tears on their tongues.

“We’ll find a way.” Alec murmurs against his lips, his voice pleading and desperate. The hope in it brings more tears to Magnus eyes.

Alec pulls back lightly to look at him as he repeats.

“We’ll find a way out of this.” He nods now, but Magnus can’t mirror the gesture, because no, they won’t. “How much time do we have?”

“Not a lot.” He replies and tries to smile, sweeping Alec’s hair out of his face. “It doesn’t matter. It’s too late.”

“No, I’ll find a way.” Alec states again “I’ll give him everything, everything he wants, just not… not you.” His voice breaks at the last word.

“Angel, you need to let this go, you need to-“ Magnus starts, but Alec interrupts him, his expression sharp.

“Magnus don’t give me some crap about needing to forget you, because I won’t. You’re the love of my life. There will never be anyone else.”

Magnus smiles sadly and kisses him again. Softly but long, until the need of air overcomes them.

“So you have to let me go, darling.” Alec shakes his head at his words again. “You need to live your life for me. You need to go back to the world-“

“I don’t want the world.” Alec’s voice breaks. “I want you.”

Then they kiss again, and Magnus is sure he’ll never get over it. His heart is already crumbled in his chest, only beating for Alec, and when they’ll need to let go of each other, he knows it will stop.

“You know I won’t stop.” Alec tries again, resting their foreheads together, wanting to be the closest they can. “I won’t stop, I’ll do anything to get you back.”

And that’s what he’s afraid of. That Alec will try literally everything. He really hopes Cat will keep him in check.

Magnus glances at the city again. The sun is almost rising, Asmodeus might show up any second. There’s no time.

“Angel, listen.” Magnus cups his face again, not only to ground himself, but to make sure he has his undivided attention. “I love you, okay? Never forget that-“

“Magnus don’t-“

He quickly wipes the new wave of Alec’s tears with his thumbs and continues.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, through my whole life. You’re more than anyone could ever dream of. And it was truly an honour to spend the time by your side.”

“I love you too,” Alec answers finally and Magnus sobs, because he’ll never get to hear these words from his mouth again. “You’re my life, Magnus. My everything.”

He connects their lips again. Desperately, lingering the moment. Their last.

“This is so unfair.” Alec whispers when they pull back a little.

“I wish we had more time.” Magnus weeps against his lips. Because he really does, but even forever wouldn’t be enough.

Alec nods and attempts to smile, but all Magnus sees is the hurt and sorrow in his eyes.

Then a portal appears in the living room and they both turn to see the Prince of Hell entering their home.

Never enough time.

As they notice what’s happening, Alec steps protectively in front of Magnus, drawing his bow and aiming an arrow at his father.

“Oh, Alexander.” Asmodeus’ voice sound casual, like he came here for a friendly chat, not to ruin their lives. He takes a step closer to them, and Magnus can see Alec flinching.

“It’s Alec.” He says, not taking his eyes from his target.

Asmodeus just shrugs slightly.

“Cute you think you could take me down with this thing.” He gestures at Alec’s bow and the next moment a red swirl of magic is knocking it out of Alec’s hands.

But his Shadowhunter still stands there proudly, as Asmodeus eyes him up and down.

“Really, Magnus? You can do so much better-“

“Father, that’s enough!” Magnus yells, anger rising inside him.

Asmodeus turns to him, his gaze sharp as he steps a bit closer.

“All right then, it’s time to go boy.”

Magnus briefly closes his eyes and breathes. When he opens them he sees Alec’s miserable gaze meeting his.

“Just, one more minute.” Magnus begs his father.

Asmodeus looks at him like he’s just asked him to stop the sun from rising, which he probably could do, but in the end he nods.

“Fine, come when you’re ready. But if this is taking too long I can’t guarantee to leave him back here in one piece.” He points at Alec, and Magnus shivers at the threat, but nods back at his father.

Then he’s stepping back through the portal, giving them their last moment alone.

“Please, don’t go.” Alec turns to him, pulling him close. “I need you, Magnus.”

They both start crying again, clutching onto each other like… Like it was the last time they’d get to be together.

Magnus still can’t believe that it is.

“Don’t do anything stupid, darling.” Magnus says, creasing the sides of his neck, touching his favourite deflect rune for the last time.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Alec gets out through his tears, and Magnus’ chuckle turns into sniffle.

Then he closes the distance between their lips, one last time.

He wants to remember everything about this moment, but at the same time, he doesn’t. There’s so many memories, and this one is the most painful.

They pull apart, and Magnus intertwines their fingers, mourning at how perfectly they fit together.

They walk up to the portal and for a moment Magnus fears that Alec might want to follow, but then he feels that the passages is sealed with a spell against angel blood.

Alec seems to have the same though as he puts his and on the portal and feels it no getting through.

“You can’t follow me back there.” Magnus states and Alec bursts into tears again. Magnus is sure he’s never seen him in such states. He hoped he’s never get to.

“Aku cinta kamu, angel. You’re the love of my immortal life.”

“I love you too, more than anything.” Alec almost whispers, understanding Magnus’ words like it was their own language. It’s enough for Magnus to hear. For the last time.

They still hold onto each other’s hands, he feels that Alec doesn’t want to let go. He’s grabbing onto his palm tighter but then Magnus steps through the portal, breaking the hold of their hands.