#smolbane

If Clary is here, that means Magnus must’ve been here, too. Because there’s no way in heaven or hell that Magnus would’ve let Clary come alone.

“Where’s Magnus? He wasn’t here, was he?”

Alec can already feel his hands start to tremble and his knees start to grow weak. This can’t be happening.

All he really hears is Clary say upstairs before he’s turning and speeding towards the corridor. He searches the institute from roof to basement; once, twice, thrice, four times he runs up and down the stairs, searching every room, nook and cranny for any sign of his missing warlock.

There are bodies everywhere, traitorous shadowhunters, downworlders and institute shadowhunters alike. Bloody, beaten and some barely identifiable bodies are laying where they fell and Alec feels sick as he feels relief bubble up because none of the dead bodies are Magnus’.

Alec’s slowly starting to lose hope, sliding down a nearby wall and heaving in desperate gasps of air. He’s teetering on the edge of a complete meltdown and he needs to pull himself together – at least a little – before he starts looking again.

There’s light beginning to stream in from outside and before Alec realises – it’s dawn. He gives up on searching the institute for the fifth time, heading outside instead, dodging returning shadowhunters on his way.

He knows – as he pushes his way through the front door – that he looks an emotional mess. His chest is heaving, eyes bouncing around in their sockets trying to take in everything around him, body trembling because his anxiety is skyrocketing and he’s on the verge of a panic attack.

Alec can’t hear anything over the pounding in his head and his ragged breathing. Then there’s a hand on his arm—

Magnus has Madzie on his hip, cradling the child clutching at his lapels close to him as he runs through the institute, Valentine’s soldiers hot on his heels.

He can’t use his magic without the risk of hurting the small girl in his arms because with his whirlwind of emotions right now, he’s horrifically unstable and he knows that if he does cast a spell, there was a 10 to 1 probability that it would go dangerously wrong.

He turns a corner towards the op centre at the same time snarls pierced the air. A morbid feeling settles heavily over Magnus’ shoulders and he falls through a hastily made portal, just catching a glimpse of the bright light engulfing the institute before he lands in a heap in the middle of Catarina’s living room, scaring the other warlock into spilling her tea.

Madzie is wrapped protectively in his arms, laying across his chest as he winces at the pain in his back. Catarina’s by his side in a second – tea long forgotten – and her hands glow green as she checks for any serious injuries. She sits back on her heels when she’s satisfied they’re not hurt and her blue skin seems to crackle with anxious magic.

Madzie’s crawled off Magnus at this point, and she’s sitting by his side quietly looking at Catarina, taking in her white hair and blue skin with silent awe.

Magnus sits up with a sharp intake of breath when he remembers.

Alexander.

His gorgeous shadowhunter is still in the institute with that lunatic.

He wants to go back immediately, but he knows he can’t.

He’s no use to anybody if he rushes back into that disaster and dies. So he crosses his legs and sits with his head in his hands for a moment. Madzie rests her tiny hands on his arm, rubbing in gentle comfort as Catarina gets up to make some more tea.

It takes three cups of tea and countless reassurances that Alec can take very good care of himself before Magnus can restrain himself to wearing a rut into Catarina’s pristine floorboards. Madzie’s found a picture book to entertain herself in the meantime and Catarina’s reading an illustrated medical journal by some healer from the 3rd century.

Magnus’ legs are almost numb from the constant movement by the time the sun starts to peek over the horizon. Catarina looks between him and the rising sun and tells him to go. She cuts him off even before he can open his mouth after glancing at Madzie.

“I’ll look after the girl for a while. You need to go find that boy.”

“I’m in your debt, Catarina. Thank you.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time, Bane. Now go.”

Magnus hugs Madzie quickly, telling her to be a good girl and that he’d be back for her as soon as he could. Then he opens a portal to the institute with a flick of his wrist and steps through without a second glance.

He comes out on the other side a few meters away from the entrance of the institute. He sees shadowhunters returning from various missions – more than likely scouting to see if there was any far-reaching impact of the soul sword – and he walks a step behind them before he finally sees him.

Alexander.

He barely stops to think before he’s running towards Alec. He can feel eyes on him from the few straggling shadowhunters, but he doesn’t care. All he can think is Alec, Alec, Alec. He reaches out and grabs at the archer’s arm—

Alec turns around and all the air rushes out of his lungs in an instant because oh, it’s him.

Magnus is alive and here’s here, right in front of him.

There’s no thought put into Alec throwing his arms around Magnus, dragging the warlock into his body – lifting him the tiniest bit in the process – and burying his face into the crook of Magnus’ shoulder, breathing in deeply. Magnus grips back just as tightly, taking in the salty scent of sweat and distinct leather that is Alec.

Magnus feels relief wash over him in waves as Alec’s arms tighten around him.

They’re safe; they’re both alive.

Magnus feels somewhat empty when Alec finally pulls away, his hand still clutching the shadowhunter’s sleeve. His eyes are searching Alec’s face and watch as the residual panic slowly fades away. Finally, Alec’s opening his mouth.

“Magnus, I thought–”

Magnus stops him, wanting to quell the rest of his fears. “I found Madzie. I got her out just in time. I took her to Catarina’s. She’s safe.” Alec nods distractedly, he doesn’t look totally relieved and it confuses Magnus.

“Look,” Alec’s still breathing hard and his voices shakes slightly, “Magnus, on every mission I’ve ever been on I’ve never felt that type of fear. Ever.” He stops, trying to find the right words.

“Not knowing if you were alive or dead,” Alec swallows and Magnus can feel his heart tremble, “I– I was terrified.”

Magnus rubs his hand up and down Alec’s arm tenderly. “So was I.” And he was; monumentally terrified of the thought that he may never see his sweet Alexander again.

“Magnus, I-”

Alec’s fidgeting, still coming down from the panic-induced adrenaline but he manages to say what he needs to.

“I love you.”

Magnus’ heart stutters and keeps beating strongly, loud in his ears as Alec’s words sink in. Then he’s saying them back — “I love you, too” — and he realises that yes, he does.

He does love this beautiful patchwork shadowhunter, who would give his life for his family without a second thought, who would defend a downworlder – defend Magnus – against his own mother and the rest of a society that shuns his kind.

Then Alec’s kissing him and they’re both exhausted beyond belief, but it’s so full of relief and desperation and love, that it’s all Magnus can do to stay standing.

All too soon it’s over and Alec’s pulling back, but he doesn’t go far and Magnus is being wrapped up in strong arms again, his own arms going around Alec’s shoulders and he’s rubbing a thumb over the archer’s shoulderblade.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there like that, wrapped up in each other under the morning sun, but it’s comforting and they’re safe and together. All Magnus can think is that the worst is over, for now.