This is only my second fic in this fandom in about three weeks, I'm still very new, I only have the TV show and little bits and pieces of the internet which I take and form a skeleton canon and fill in the rest with my own story time fantasies, and hope I can get all you lovely readers to come along for the ride.

This story probably takes the most amount of liberties with the time line, and with Simon. But it works in the scope of this story.

Also and this is slight spoiler, there are two deaf characters, who I'm excited to feature and I hope you will enjoy meeting them as well.

This is also posted on AO3 (penname: kosherrainbow) if you prefer that format

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, or the line inspired by an M&Ms Christmas commercial

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The man stood in the middle of the open piece of land staring out at the horizon as the sun pulled itself fully up and away from the line of land below it. This had become his ritual, watching sunrise after sunrise, each mildly different...just waiting for the one that would set itself a part from the rest.

"Magnus Bane. You really do exist."

And it seemed as though it might have arrived.

The warlock's lips narrowed in a tight smile as he turned toward the voice that had addressed him. The man was unfamilar, but there was a familiar scent of werewolf that drifted towards him.

"I was starting to think they had sent me to catch a ghost."

"You are sorely mistaken if you think I am someone who can be caught. Who was it that believe such a task was possible?"

The man's face remained stoic as he reached inside his jacket pocket, pulling out a gold envelope. The man who lived centuries allowed his curiosity to reach out and take the envelope.

Inside he found a sheet of parchment marked with lines of a beautifully familiar penmanship:

Warlock Bane, the formal had been scratched out, replaced with

Magnus,

I know this would have been easier to have easier to send by fire, but after all these years I wasn't entirely sure you would still be reachable via that particular method. In these years, there have been many changes including the redesign of what you once knew as the New York Institue, as the Shadowworld strives progressively forward we know seek a representation from all paths of this world. Despite your absence the warlocks of New York have unanimously requested your leadership to be present, and I have to admit I agree that you are what would be best. I hope this finds you well and willing. And I do look forward to working together once more.

Sincerely, again this was scratched out.
With Love
Isabelle Lovelace Lewis (nee Lightwood)
Head of the Shadowhunter Division
Shadowworld Institue of New York

There were a number of questions that skirted his mind head among those was the writer's last name and her title. "I wonder how Lydia Bran-" He stopped himself with a dull ache he still hadn't managed to rid himself of, "Lydia Lightwood felt about that."

A curious look passed on the other Downworlder's face, "You really must have fallen off the face of the planet. Lydia Lightwood died almost two years ago."

There was no attempt to hide the shock in his eyes as he heard the news. He had avoided seeking out information that could be in any way related to Alec Lightwood or his fellow New York Shadowhunters, and it was an endeavor that had apparently succeeded too well. "How?"

"Complications after childbirth."

xxxxx

Alec wrapped the last half of the cake in plastic wrap before finding it a spot on in the refrigerator. He moved on to the dishes, and then the toys scattered in the living room. For a moment he was tempted to simply collapse into the armchair and enjoy the quiet serenity that came just after bedtime, but the laundry beginning to pile up called to him. He moved down the hallway, muscles tinging with the soreness of constant use.

There was movement in front of the soft glow that spilled out of the first bedroom in the hallway so he paused there to investigate. On one side of the room, there was no movement from the crib. The lower side of the bunk bed on the opposite also seemed still. As he looked up he saw the source of the shadows. Alec smiled as the four year old spotted him in the doorway and scrambled to tuck himself back into a sleeping position.

He did one last inspection before his landed on the photograph sitting on top of miniature bookshelf.

It was over a year and a half ago and he was just as certain now as he had been that he had made the right choice...

He pushed himself away with the doorway closing the door most of the way before he headed towards his own bed. Screw laundry. He wanted to sleep.

xxxxxx

Twenty-Two Months prior

There was an eerie silence that had seemed to have settle over the one of the bedroom as the group stood or sat in various states of shock. If the events of the early morning hours hadn't been unsettling enough, they were now left waiting for Jace to finish reading the letter they had found alone in the room.

"He says he needs time and space. He doesn't want us looking for them."

Isabelle was the first to speak up her face tear stained, "Did he say when he'll be coming back?"

Still processing the news himself, Jace just shook his head.

She buried her head in his Simon's shoulder, multiplying the guilt that was starting to grow in his stomach. Not much one for prayer he silently hoped he had done the right thing, too.

Xxxxx

Rather short, I know. But its a prologue so I hope you enjoy.
Let me know what you think and if you like what you see so far!

Sidenote: Internet told me about the name Simon takes...but I decided for this story that that name will be more for formal Shadowhunter-y things but Lewis is still used affectionately as an informal.