This story is rated M because some of the things mentioned could upset and for smut in later chapters!
Disclaimer: Only Cassandra Clare owns these characters
A sharp almost electric pain went through his ankle as he stumbled over something in haste; he didn't look back to see what it was. He clenched his teeth harder together but kept on running. The ache made it harder to run properly on the left foot but it was nothing he couldn't handle.
There wasn't a choice, he couldn't stop running. He needed to find a place to hide, somewhere safe this time.
Raindrops smacked on to his face, the cold force might have made him shiver if his lungs didn't feel like they were burning him up from the inside. For the first time he was thankful that Jace woke him up almost every morning at the crack of dawn to go running. The practice, and the adrenaline piping through his veins, was the only thing that enabled him to keep going.
Stop! Stop, you can't think about them now.
Of course not thinking about his family was impossible; all his thoughts revolved and orbited his family. Not even sleep was useful to evade their faces as the nightmares seeped through and twisted them from once elegant, warm familiar auras into twisted, torturous visions.
Shouts from behind him grew nearer. Sirens grew louder. His lungs grew hotter. He needed to rest, if only for a few seconds. He wasn't sure how long he'd been running but his eye lids felt like they would slip shut themselves and push him into unsafe unconsciousness.
He put those thoughts of Jace and his family to another area in his mind, after all, there was no way to get rid of them and after a while a strange comfort arose. Comfort was something he only truly felt when he was with his family and now tainted memories of them were all that he was left with.
The street stretched before him was narrow and didn't provide any shelter or hideout that he could see under the bright lights of the street lamps framing the nearly flooded road. Above him the thunder roared throughout the heavens and rain crashed down harder than before, blurring his vision and heightening his need to find shelter.
He started to panic. An idea needed to fly into his head fast before the enforcement in pursuit of him turned around the same corner he just had. Knowing certain death was awaiting him, from the gun fire that had narrowly missed the backs of his feet, if he gave up, he spun around to check any another direction, when something-someone grabbed the back of his coat and a hand muffled the cry that came from his mouth.
He struggled as best he could against the ominous force as it pulled him backwards into what seemed like a darkened separate ally. All attempts were useless as the lack of oxygen going into his lungs made him feel like he was going to pass out and the figure, whose arm was now wrapped around his torso, provided something for his tired, worn body to lean on.
For a moment he thought they'd finally caught him.
"Shush" The soft murmur startled him. The voice was deep and obviously belonged to a male. Police officers didn't grab you from behind and whisper in your ear.
He could faintly see in the distance some of the figures that had been chasing him. He could only see the outline of their silhouettes but they had stopped at the entrance to the street. He was just out of the officer's sight as the shadows shielded them like a curtain.
His own breath was quick and his chest was rising and falling at a rapid speed, however the person pressed against his back was as still and silent as a rock. He estimated that they were both the same tall height, maybe himself being an inch shorter.
He could feel the mans cheek pressed to his ear, it made him want to pull away. If he did the officers would surely hear the feet splashing against the puddled floor. Everything inside of him screamed to get out and run way but there didn't seem to be any option.
The arms pulled him back a few slow steps further into the gloom to evade the flash light two of the silhouettes were scanning round. He looked down at the tanned hand that was covering his torso- wait…was that nail polish?
The flashlights rays had vanished and so had the silhouettes but he knew that wasn't the last of them and they'd be back in bigger numbers.
The person, whoever they were, seemed to have thought its prey had given up fighting allowing the grasp around his chest to loosen, light enough to break out of. With the last burst of adrenaline he had left, he spun round aggressively and kicked the man away, with his unharmed foot, with so much force the counter force, and the fact could really stand properly on his bad foot, made him fall back against the fence behind him. The other man was shoved violently towards the wall about a meter opposite himself.
The figure only seemed slightly winded by the action whereas he himself slumped down the rotting fence to the grimy wet floor beneath him. Trembling legs and a bad ankle couldn't hold him up anymore.
A second attempt at an attack was inevitable but to his own surprise and relief the hooded man standing tall above him didn't make a move. Blinking upwards at the unknown man through the wet strands of hair that had been plastered to his forehead by the rain, he slowly reached a shaking hand into the pocket of his drenched coat clutching the sharp metal; the only weapon he had to use as defense.
The man raised one hand slowly and brought a finger up to his face in front of his lips, which were hidden under the shadow of his hood, signalling a 'hush' motion. This man wasn't attacking him but also didn't want to turn him in. He also seemed like he didn't want to be caught himself.
And Alec knew the last the last thing he should be feeling right now was relief but he clung to that hope because maybe he wasn't the only one that was on the run.
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I only have a general idea in where this story is going so suggestions would be helpful