angel's promise is from an idea I got randomly. It started out when I was in my crying-in-a-ball-because-malec-broke-up phase. I thought, 'But they'll die without each other!' Then later I asked myself what would happen if you broke a promise by the Angel. My conclusion was a disease that lasted four weeks, with four stages. (see my second chapter.) And my dear friend Zoe knew that Alec swore by the Angel to be with Magnus FOREVER! (Well, it was her headcanon).
So angel's promise was born.
Summary: It's not possible to break a promise by the Angel and live without trying to rectify it. We all risk something each time we swear, but Alec broke it.
Disclaimer:
Me: Magnus, say RememberTheCanon does not own TMI.
Magnus: You mean Too Much Information or The Mortal Instruments?
Me: Magnus...
Magnus: What?
Me: If you ever want to see your precious Alec Lightwood again, you will say the disclaimer. Plus I'll give you donuts.
Magnus: Please, bitch. Fine. RememberTheCanon doesn't own TMI. That is the ever-talented Cassandra Clare's property. DONE! How much am I getting paid in donuts again?
Me: Shut up, Magnus.
Alec stared at the mirror.
It had suddenly jabbed with pain in training today, and he had fallen off of the balance beam. Isabelle and Jace and Clary and Maia and Jordan had all rushed him to the infirmary.
He'd told them.
It had only been two weeks. Only Stage Two. He knew these consequences (unlike the others).
He deserved them, after all. The first stage of pink, stretched skin, of feverish cheeks, had gone relatively unnoticed. After all, he'd just gone through a nasty breakup. It was only right for Alec to kick training bags, sandbags, for him to get drunk (very, very drunk. Those drunk dials were extremely embarrassing).
But the... thing had upped the pain this week. So Alec had taken his shirt off in when he'd gotten in the infirmary, to check what it had done.
Whatever he'd been expecting, it was not this.
The pink skin, stretched tight, was normal, of course. He'd gotten used to that.
But his veins were mapped out by black lines that rushed, pouring that angel's poison into his veins, transforming him. The skin also was marred by a single dot of black over his heart.
Alec wanted to scream.
"Alec? Oh god. What's- why- did a demon poison you or what?" Isabelle is almost sobbing. She's lost one brother, and now she's going to lose another one to a warlock.
Great. Izzy is going to kill Magnus, and that's exactly what he didn't want.
He shook his head. "No, Iz. An angel did."
A silence follows this profound declaration.
"You broke a promise by the Angel?" Jace asks, eyes wide. Alec has to give him credit. He thought that Jace thought breaking a promise by the Angel was punishable by exactly nothing.
It wasn't.
"Yes. I swore I'd never leave Ma- I mean him. But yet I did. So these are the consequences for my heartlessness." Alec's voice is dull and blunt. No use softening it to them, warming them up for his bombshell.
"Rectifying it would save you," Clary says softly. Also, smarter than he thought. Or more studious at least. Clary's read up on that part of the text, but Alec won't do it. He won't go back (even though it pulls and rips at him, and he practically begs for Magnus) he deserves this pain. Magnus doesn't need him.
So he says, "No. The curse wouldn't be that lenient. I swore to never leave him. I can't just go back. I'd have to turn back time."
They wheel him out on the cot and fight over when they will tell Magnus.
He knows that the end result will be when he's dead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~malec banewood~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He calls out feverishly in his sleep during the third stage. The pink skin is stretched tighter than before, the map of lines and veins all over his body. The third stage is nightmares. He knew that.
But he didn't expect to have to relive Magnus's death over and over again. He hates it, how he realizes a second too late what's going to happen, how Magnus looks at him frozen, expecting him to save him.
(and sometimes it's him who stabs him, who grabs his neck and squeezes, who pours the poison)
The fourth stage he just stares at the ceiling.
The hours tick by like minutes. Every minute is an eternity, but every day is a flash under his fluttering eyelids.
He stumbles to the training room with the last bit of his strength. He grabs the dagger and raises it, has only just begun to cut into his neck when he screams in pain as the veins glow white on his skin-
and he's gone without a goodbye
