I missed writing oneshots. They give me such a boost of positivity, without the stress that comes from writing a new chapter. I hope y'all enjoy. I feel like more Lightwood-Bane family stories will probably be coming up soon!
Max glared at Raf, as a heavy leather jacket slammed on his face before he had the time to duck. His brother had been tossing clothes out of his closet for the past ten minutes, and Max really wouldn't have been as annoyed had it not been that he had been forced to sit and watch.
It was four in the morning, and Rafael was getting ready for his flight to the Buenos Aires institute. Max had been dreading this day ever since his brother had brought up finishing up his shadowhunter training abroad. He was officially seventeen, and one year before his training was officially complete, which meant it was the perfect time for him to leave New York and explore another institute for training. Of course, Max had tried to stay supportive, especially after their dads had been quite the opposite.
Well, Dad had been alright with his but Papa had complained, pouted, and even resorted to bribery for a whole two months before finally giving up. Unlike Raf, Max could kind of understand why Magnus Bane would have been so bothered by his seventeen year old son leaving for a whole year. He would be living for another eternity, and Raf was just a shadowhunter. He would definitely not.
Not that any of them really brought that topic up much, but he couldn't help but think about it now. He was only fifteen and nowhere close to understanding his papa's fear, but he had recently begun to acknowledge it. He already dreaded the day he would look in the mirror and realize that time had ravaged the world around him and left him untouched.
"It's going to be hot there. But Cristina said I should focus on my packing my gear." Raf was complaining, and Max just lay on among his brother's pile of clothes ignoring him. Raf rarely listened to Max's comments on clothing, he actually made it a point to criticize Max's sense of style. Ironic, because most of Raf's clothing consisted of gear which was supposed to be bland and monochromatic, but Raf had an ability to make everything look stylish. Something he had probably inherited from Magnus. Although, Max thought he did pretty well for himself, he wasn't absolutely hopeless like the other half of their parenting duo. "I don't have room for my knives!" Raf was now pulling weapons out of his already-packed suitcase.
"They'll have knives there." He could hear how surly his voice sounded, it had gotten more and more irritated as the weeks had passed but Rafael chose to ignore it.
"I know that. But I like mine, they fit my hand better." Raf twirled one on his fingers as if to demonstrate.
He had now run out of clothes to toss out of his closet and was stuffing things into a suitcase.
"I thought you'd packed your weapons weeks ago." Max commented, picking up a chakram dangerously hidden under the pile of clothing.
"Oh I wondered where that went." Raf grabbed the blade from his hand and stuffed it in one of the pockets of his suitcase.
"How do you plan on getting all of that through airport security?"
"Papa said he'd glamor my case." Max rolled his eyes and diverted his focus back on his phone, which he'd finally found under a pair of armored pants. Raf was annoyingly prepared, and it only worked to bother Max even further.
Raf continued shoving his gear and weapons into whatever bag had room, as Max tried to distract himself. It wasn't until the sunlight began streaming in through the thin curtains that Raf finally spoke up, about something other than his lack of clothing.
"I know you're not happy I'm leaving." Raf wasn't too much of a sharer, in fact, he tended to avoid talking too much about upsetting topics. So Max was surprised to hear him speak up, but he continued. "I just… really want to connect with the place I actually came from." His tone was almost pleading.
"I'm not not happy." Even saying those words Max could tell they were a lie. His dads had found him in Idris, but he hadn't had any kind of desire to study there. So what was the point of going all the way to Argentina when his home was here with them?
"I'll only be gone for a year, and you can visit anytime. You already know how to make portals, so really, whenever you want it'll be like visiting Auntie Clary." Raf reasoned, and Max felt a mix of irritation and warmth.
"I'm not mad." This time, the words felt like less of a lie.
"Papa is. I already feel bad for making him feel bad." Honestly, Max had never heard his brother speak so much about his feelings in his life. The surprise itself melted the annoyance that he had been building up in his head that entire morning.
"He'll get over it, just go to Buenos Aires and enjoy yourself." Max said, surprising himself.