Story: „Just Alec, now."
Chapter: 01 – No more Gee
Rating Story: NC-17
Rating Chapter: PG13
Warning(s): AU/AH, mature content, swearing, language
Pairings: Malec, Will/Jem (TID)
Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare thought of the wonderful world of the mortal instruments and infernal devices. I just play with the characters and change a bit of their life.

RUN!, was all he could think of as he made his way down the unfamiliar path through the city he had never been to. Run and get away from that place! Run from the destiny that would await him in the next few days. His lungs were screaming at him, the cold air making them burn as he ran and ran and ran. „Your family has sold you so they could 'cleanse' you from your dirty longing.", his room mate – he hadn't a better name for the dirty fair haired child who was sleeping in the bed next to his and he didn't know his real name anyway – had told him. „In the end, we all were brought here because our families couldn't live with what we are." He had looked horrified at what the boy – he went by the name 'Adam' – had told him. No, his father – his family – wasn't like the others. No, he would come back to get him home. But that hope was crushed today.

He had sneaked into the headmaster's office and found THE BOOK – it contained every single name of every single boy ever being brought to the Institute. He searched for his name – Gideon A. Lightwood (he always had hated his first name and liked to be called by his middle name – his father despised it and had told him to be proud of his name and the history coming with it) – and found a sum and an entry: „$2,000 – not to be brought back". His brain tried to process the meaning behind the words, but he couldn't quite understand. Then the door opened and the headmaster walked in. The angry look on the man's scarred face was soon replaced by a lazy smirk. Of course this man knew exactly what the boy had found and as so many of the smart ones before him couldn't understand, couldn't comprehend the meaning behind it.

The headmaster walked to the boy and took the Book out of the small hands. Still smirking he sat behind his desk and looked at him. Porcelain skin, dark ebony hair and eyes as blue as the sky – this boy would make him rich. The gentlemen using his establishment would literally kill to get the first night with the boy. There was already a bidding going on and that had started after Mr Gordon – family father, teacher – had seen him from afar while he was on his way to have a little 'date' with one of the older boys. Of course this man had to tell the other gentlemen while sitting in the sauna and talking about 'their boys' of the blue eyed beauty being let to one of the classrooms. The startling innocence that was radiating in waves from this boy had allured Mr Gordon to the point that he proclaimed that he would deflower the black haired beauty and that of course let to the bidding.

„Have you found what you were looking for, Gee?", he asked the scared boy in front of him. The delicious lips were pressed into a thin line as he shook his head. „No?", he asked again, receiving the same short shake of the boy's head. „I think that you found what you were looking for, but you don't like it. I am right, Gee, aren't I?", the headmaster smiled fondly at the child. He stood up and walked around the big mahogany desk to kneel in front of him. „Many of you have found the Book. It is not really well hidden, don't you think? Many of those who have found it, have found a similar entry to your's – a sum of money and an additional note. Your parents paid me to take you in, to cleanse you, to educate you." He trailed his fingers down the younger male's cheek causing him to flinch. „Your father paid 2,000 dollar so that his oldest son would be taken in and never be seen again. You see, he is one of the few who actually know what we really are. He knows that we don't give you an education to release you into an un-gay life." The headmaster stood up and walked to a filing cabinet on the other side of the room. Unlocking it, he got some files out and walked back to the dark haired child. „This is what you are here for, Gee." The older man laid some photographs in front of the boy, showing him male teenagers in all states of undress in different poses. „First we teach them how to converse and then we teach them how to swallow. That is our maxim, my dear Gee." The headmaster collected the photographs and put them into one of his drawers. Disgusted the boy stared at the older man who was looking at him with predator's eyes. „When I first saw you, I knew you were something special. We have a moral of sorts here in the Institute. We let the boys coming here have a year of learning and coming to terms with their sexuality. Then we put them up for a bidding and the gentleman with the highest bidding gets the first night of said boy. If the boy is even after that year under the age of 16 – as it would be the case with you – they get a little longer until they will be a part of our establishment. But you, Gee, are so beautiful, so innocent, that we cannot wait. You my dear will be the attraction for years to come." During the speech of the older man the boy's skin got paler until it became a grey-greenish colour. Seeing that the dark haired child had enough and now understood what he was here for, the older male lay a hand on the younger male's shoulder to lead him out of the room. That put the boy into motion. He got the nameplate from the headmaster's desk an flung it at the older male's head. Before he could progress what just had happened, the boy made his way out of the headmaster's office and out of the building.

Only one thing could stop him now and that was the older teenager coming out of the bakery who wasn't fast enough to get out of the dark haired boy's pathway. They made it stumbling to the ground, the cake flying through the air landing on the street. Huffing the older boy got to his feet glaring at the younger male. „Are you stupid or something? That was a birthday present, you idiot! What are you doing, running around like that?" He brushed the dirt from his jeans and took a look at the destroyed cake or what was being smeared on the street by the cars driving over the cake box. Still huffing he turned around to lecture the smaller boy again. Really what was he doing? Stupid boy making him lose his gift for Will – and probably getting a sarcastic response for 'walking with a cake through Manhattan while texting on his mobile' when he came home and told the story. Speaking of it, where was his mobile? He groped through his many pockets on his jacket and jeans and with a triumphing 'yay!' found it in his left jacket pocket. Looking at it, he saw no missed calls or messages while he had been lying on the dirty street – for whole 30 seconds mind you.

Come to think of it, the other boy was still sitting on the ground. Magnus crouched down and poked him on his head. „Hej. Are you still there?" The dark haired boy – who couldn't be much older than 12, maybe 13 – was breathing heavily and clutching his arm to his chest. „You didn't get hurt, did you?" Magnus put a hand on the shoulder of the boy but he flinched away pressing his arm tighter to his chest. „Okay, listen up little one. Either you are getting up from the ground and I take you to the nearest hospital to get your arm checked or I'm calling the police who then will bring you to the nearest hospital and from there to your parents who can pay for the cake you just destroyed. Actually I like the second one."

The younger boy's hand snapped up that Magnus cringed away. Clear blue eyes were staring up at him brimming with unshed tears, black hair framed the face and his skin had a rosy tint from the running – in one word the boy was beautiful (although he resembled Will just a tiny bit too much). Shaking his head to clear the image of Will away, Magnus crossed his arms over his chest. „So what will it be." The younger boy was still staring at him. It unnerved Magnus a bit as he hadn't said a word and didn't look like he would be talking his head off within the next moments. Magnus sighed and took one last look to the dirty remains of his cake box before he got his mobile from his pocket and unlocked it. „I'm sorry for your cake." It was barely over a whisper but it made Magnus pause. He looked over to the younger boy who was still sitting on the ground. Most of the pedestrians were walking by the pair and the others who stopped with an inquiring glance were soon on their way with the help of a glare from Magnus.

Sighing again, the older boy reached his hand out to help the younger male to his feet. „Are you angry?" The boy war adorable – and still too much of a Will-look-alike. „No. Well yes. But you had your reasons running around like a chicken with its head cut off, right?" A small smile played around the lips of the boy before it died down again. „I'm still sorry for the cake. If you could tell me, where I am, I can call home and..." He fell silent again as if he just noticed that 'home' maybe wasn't home any longer. Magnus knew that feeling too well to ignore it. „Forget the cake. Will doesn't like cake anyway and it was a poor birthday present. I actually forgot his birthday and that was all I could come up with. Stupid me."

Putting his mobile back into his pocket he turned fully to the other boy. „I'm Magnus Bane. Magnificent in everything but remembering birthdays and shopping for the people close to me." Extending his right hand he waited for the other boy to take it. „I-I'm Gi.. Alec." „Alec. Alec who?" Smiling a little at the bigger hand grasped in his own. „Just Alec, now."