A/N: This is my first time writing angst so I'd really love any reviews.

WARNING: The second part of this could be triggering for some people.

Disclaimer: None of the stuff in italics belongs to me, that's straight from COLS.

Enjoy :)

"It's over. I don't want to see you again, Alec."

"You didn't trust me. You never have."

Alec screamed as he threw himself down onto his bed, burying his face deep into the pillow and clenching the sheets either side of him into fists as if it were the one thing keeping him tethered to his sanity.

"Stupid. You are so, so stupid," he wept into the pillow, the cushy fabric muffling his cries into distant whimpers.

As he had watched Magnus walk away from him in the pouring rain, some part of him had hoped that he would look back, that Magnus would be able find it in himself to forgive him. But he didn't. He carried on walking until all Alec could see in front of him was the once bright graffiti on the walls, long ago deteriorated into unrecognisable fragments of washed-out colour. His heart shattered into a billion little fragments, because that was when he'd realised. Magnus wasn't coming back. He would never come back because what Alec did was an act of ultimate betrayal. He had betrayed his one true love, and this was his punishment. He deserved this pain.

"He was too good for me."

Alec sat up on the bed, clutching the pillow to his chest and bowing his head into his hands.

"I wasn't good enough for him."

But as his cries slowly quietened, he began to understand that it wasn't that he wasn't good enough, after all Magnus wasn't exactly a saint. But Magnus was right about one thing, it wasn't just a mistake. It was Alec's fault for not trusting him. His fault for going to Camille. His fault for ruining the best thing that had ever happened to him. Alec straightened up on the bed, releasing his grip on the pillow, his expression hardening as he realised that he didn't deserve the comfort that crying brought him. He didn't deserve to mourn his loss. After all, if he had been more loyal then this would have never happened. Instead of sat here crying, he would be at Magnus' right now. They probably would have cuddled up together on the couch and turned on the TV. But they wouldn't be watching it. They would have been too busy staring at each other, studying every feature of the man that they loved. Blue eyes meeting golden-green.

"It doesn't change what you did."

"He doesn't love me anymore," Alec stated, his voice flat and cold.

With that thought, he slowly got up from the bed and walked over to the bathroom, his movements stiff from the after-effects of the freezing rain. As he stared at himself in front of the mirror, he started to wonder what Magnus ever saw in him. He stood there, scrutinising every feature, every mark, until finally he blinked, tired from his staring contest with himself and went to turn on the shower. But as he turned around, a slight glint of metal burst out at him. Alec stared at it, time seeming to slow down as he studied the smooth curve of the handle, contrasting with the sharp, rough edge of the blade. He stared some more, blood rushing in his ears like a torrent waterfall, drowning out the world around him.

Carefully, Alec walked over and picked up the blade, a million thoughts rushing through his brain. He thought back to a documentary he had seen last month on depression. It had mentioned how some people would harm themselves to take away the pain. They had described the rush that they felt when the blade finally pierced their skin, and how just for a second, their mind was clear. Ever since that day Alec had wondered what it would be like, whether it actually felt like they described.

"I'm tired of being their pet warlock."

Alec didn't even realise he'd done it, but as he looked down he noticed a small bead of red blood trickling out of small cut on his wrist. He watched in rapt fascination as it created a path down his arm, leaving a faint trail behind it and then dripping down onto the floor below him. There was silence in the room as Alec stared at the small drop of red on the floor. Then, slowly he took the razor and pressed in to his skin, slowly pushing harder and harder until, finally, it pierced his skin with a stinging pop. Dragging it down his wrist he watched in astonishment as a wave of blood pulsed out of the cut, running down his hand, coating his fingers and staining the floor red.

"By the angel," Alec murmured. As it turned out, those people were right. Alec's attention was focused solely on the stinging pain of his cut wrist, so much that someone could have started a war in that very room and he wouldn't have noticed. For the first time after the fight, Alec's mind was ringing with clarity. So he did it again, and again, and again. Wave after wave of the thick red liquid poured down his arm. His mind started to go blurry, eyes suddenly jolting open, even though he hadn't realised he'd closed them. The room around him was becoming a blur of white. Then the darkness swept in, and all he could see was black.

A/N: I was originally planning to do this as a oneshot but I liked how it ended here…well, not liked exactly cause Alec's not really doing too good but…yeah. Anyway, I'm writing the next/final chapter now so it should be up later today :)