Author's Note: Hello! I'm Dess, and I decided to write this story about my favorite pairing. They're my babies. Just a warning, the chapters will contain abuse, cursing, self-harm and lemons in later chapters. I hope you enjoy it. If you have any advice, don't hesitate to tell me. ._.

Disclaimer: I don't own TMI or Collective Soul. I pretty much live in a literary cardboard box here.

Chapter 1: Schism
"Alexander, take your headphones off," Maryse said, looking sternly at her eldest child. Alec rolled his eyes and continued to mouth the words to the song, pretending that he couldn't hear her. Music was an escape for him, bringing on a numbness that was hard for him to come by; he was an emotional being. He was made fun of constantly for it. "Alexander, this is the last time I will tell you. I have something important to discuss with you all once Robert gets home." Isabelle, Alec's sister, perked up at this. She loved news of any kind. Alec took out his headphones and smirked at Izzy's behavior. He didn't understand why she got so excited about these sort of things. He knew that when they had news, it had to do with their work and almost never benefited the family.
The sound of the door slamming closed brought him out of his thoughts. He unconsciously sat up straighter when his father walked through the room. Robert Lightwood was not a man to displease. He was a successful business man, wanting his first born son to become a carbon copy of himself so that he could take over the family business. When Alec grew to love the solitude of books instead of his father's trade his father made it quite plain how he felt about it. Alec had dealt with his father's abuse towards him his whole life, but he still wanted to please him.
His mother cleared her throat, making the four Lightwoods look up at her. "Me and your father have received a business opportunity too beneficial to pass up. We're transferring from our firm here in London to one in New York. We've signed a 5 year contract, so instead of leaving you children here, we're all moving to the United States and you will be going to a school in New York. We leave in a week, so you need to pack your belongings."
Izzy immediately started in after her mother quit talking. "I can't just leave! All of my friends are here and I've just only began my dance classes! And I'll be beginning my junior year next week!" Maryse looked at her daughter gently," I know it's hard, but you will make new friends, and New York has a fantastic dancing program, as well as football and soccer for Jace and Alexander. It will bring new opportunities for all of us."
Jace got up from the table, making the dishes rattle. "I can't believe this. You've been gone for two weeks and you don't ask about us, you didn't even notice that Alec is wearing a sweater without any holes, you just jump straight into this! It's bullshit." His golden curls bounced as he strode away, only to be stopped by Robert. He slammed Jace's shoulder into the wall, making a small whimper come out of Jace's mouth. That did it for Alec. He got up quickly from the table and threw a plate down at Robert's feet, making it shatter. "Stop it! Just let him leave," he said, shoving his father away from Jace. His father's eyes flamed with rage but the rest of his face was eerily calm. He took hold of Alec's arm and took him out of the kitchen.
Alec braced himself for what was about to happen. Just because he went through it nearly every time his father was home didn't make it less terrifying. He dealt with it since he was a child. The only reason he even let this happen was because he was even more terrified of this happening to one of his siblings. So, when the door to his father's office closed, he didn't cry, or scream or beg. He reminded himself of the love he felt for his family.
His father faced him with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He would be an attractive man, with his dark hair and groomed beard if it wasn't for his eyes. They were the same beautiful shade of black as his sister's, only the emotion in them was much different. He held rage and hatred in his dark eyes. "Alexander, do you think you are a better parent than me?" Yes, he did. He knew it in fact. How many times had he signed permission slips? How many times had he went with his younger siblings to parties to make sure that they came home safe, even though he hated being at them? How many times had he given them presents, saying they were from their parents? More than he could remember, yet he shook his head even though he wanted to scream it in his face. "Really now? Then why would you step in when I am reprimanding my own child? Do you think you're special? Do you think you actually mean anything," he asked, sneering at his first born son. No, he did not think any of these things. He knew he wasn't special. He was plain, he blended into the shadows.

Pain lanced in his cheeks when his father grabbed his cheeks roughly, making him look up from the floor to his father's face. "Now, Alexander, I will make you remember that you are not special, and you are nothing." Robert let go of his face. Alec stumbled back and found solitude in the corner of the room. His father came at him and struck him hard on his upper cheek. Pain raced through him, but he didn't make a noise. Robert hit him again, this time in his ribs and Alec's air rushed out between his teeth in a hiss. Robert laughed at his discomfort and began placing blows all over Alec's body, making him slump against the wall. He kept his eyes closed while his father beat him, trying to think of his happy place.
He ended up on the ground with Robert kicking him. He finally quit, laughing. "Leave now, Alexander, and don't come to dinner tonight. Everyone will think that you have a bad stomach ache. If there are any bruises, cover them," he finished, leaving the room.
Alec laid there for a moment before deciding to get up and go to his room. He limped his way up the stairs and closed the door to his bedroom. He felt the beginnings of hot tears pouring down his cheeks while he walked over to his bathroom. He hastily opened his medicine cabinet and found a bottle of sleeping pills. He quickly swallowed a few and began looking for his razor. He found his small metal trinket box and opened it, revealing a rectangular razor placed on top of the red velvet. He took the razor in his hands and held it like it was the Bible. Hallelujah, praise Gillette. He quickly took off his pants, revealing his thin and muscular thighs that were littered with thick white scars. He couldn't cut on his arms because he was in soccer; they would be seen when he was in uniform. But he didn't really care where they were, as long as he did it. He shoved the earpieces from his headphones into his ears roughly, blaring Collective Soul in his ears. He brought the sharp blade to his inner thigh and slid it across his delicate pale skin, sighing audibly.
This iPod was his hymns, his razor his Bible. And so he praised. "Give me a way, give me a sign, show me where to look and tell me what will I find?"
How he wished he could shine.

Okay, I really hope you liked it. ^.^