She isn't sure what it is exactly, but every time Magnus has set himself up in New York over the years, she's constantly drawn to his stupid apartments in the crowded, hot city that hardly resembles the one she knew as a girl.
His most recent attempt at New York living began about five years ago, and every year, she's visited consistently on Labour Day. Despite the odd pull to Magnus and New York, she can usually only stand it for a week at most before having to leave. Afterwords, she usually does a round trip of the rest of America before returning to Europe and its wonderful diversity - Portugal, France, Germany, Idris, Turkey. Then comes spring and the trip to Blackfriars Bridge.
But for now, it's Labour Day, and NYC, and the 'High Warlock of Brooklyn' (as he has so dubbed himself). The year is 1995, and the styles and trends of New York seem to be just Magnus' thing at the moment.
Magnus, she finds, is doing just as well as she thought - fantastically. He throws a party 'to celebrate her visit', although she doubts most of the guests care or even know the why behind the party.
The second night, they spend alone on the couch watching episodes of the mundane show Friends. She falls asleep with her head on his shoulder after six episodes and Magnus watches her quietly, her mouth open slightly and her breathing light but noisy. He understands her strange New York visits about as much as she does - which is not at all.
But just as he has these past five years (and countless ones before that), he will keep his questions to himself. At least as long as she does.
On the third day, she has plans to go to Central Park when there's a knock at the door and Magnus is in the bathroom. Tessa glances around the apartment awkwardly, wondering what to do before steeling her nerve and going to answer the knock.
What she doesn't expect is a face with a likeness to Henry's to be behind the door.
The woman, a ginger with a scattered, daydreaming look in her eyes that painfully reminds her of Henry seems just as thrown by her appearance. "Is...is Magnus Bane here?"
Ten seconds, ten beats of silence pass before Tessa catches herself and widens the opening. "Of course, yes," she says, gesturing inside. "Please, come in. He'll just be a minute." It's then, as the Henry-woman walks past her, that she notices the child with her.
Of all things, Magnus doesn't like children, is her first thought. The second is, again, the shock and wonder at the stunning likeness to Henry. Obviously the two are mother and daughter, and they must be related to Henry, but that wouldn't necessarily make them Fairchilds or Branwells. Shadowhunter families mix over the years.
She vaguely realizes what an awkward and terrible host she's being, but she can't bring herself to care. The girl, who looks to be about four, seems to be gazing at everything with incredible wonder, while the woman looks incredibly agitated.
Just then, Magnus walks out and stops dead in his tracks at the sight of the Shadowhunter. "Oh," he says lightly. "That time again already?"
He takes the two Nephilim into his bedroom, telling Tessa he has 'some business to attend to'. She's terribly confused by the whole situation, but after ten minutes of standing in the living room in silence alone, she gives up and goes for her walk.
She asks Magnus once, and at his refusal to give her any information, she never asks again.
Twelve years later, Tessa visits her warlock friend once again. Things feel wearily the same and yet endlessly different. Magnus mostly just seems preoccupied, and tired.
Two nights before her visit ends, she and Magnus stay in for a marathon of America's Next Top Model. Halfway through the third episode, Magnus turns down the volume and turns to her with a serious look on his face.
"I need to ask you a question," he says. She shifts to face him, wary. What could possibly make Magnus seem so grave and solemn? Tessa nods.
"I-I think I've fallen in love with a Shadowhunter," he says, almost laughing in a way that isn't humorous at all. She's frozen with shock. "How...how did you do it? With Will?" A pang in her chest drains her of energy at the mention of him, even now. "I've had my fair share of relationships with Shadowhunters, with mortals," Magnus goes on, "But never something that's felt like this. How did you do it, Tessa? What do I do?"
She blinks. She swallows. Magnus is looking at her so imploringly, so desperately, like she's some sort of witch who can see the future and cast spells to fix everything. Doesn't he know how lonely she is? How unsteady she's been for seventy years? He and Jem are her only fixed points, her only true marks of passing time.
Don't love them, she wants to say. Don't give them your love, not when they'll be gone within mere decades. It's not worth it. But she can't say that, not with the way he's looking at her.
"Take advantage of the time you have," is what she says, "Don't forget the past, but put it behind you so you can fully experience the now. Don't dare waste a moment...not when there will be so few."
That spring, her visit to London completely flips her life around. A week in London sufficiently catches her up to Jem, and once she knows the full story, she wants to find Magnus and shake him by the shoulders for keeping quiet back in Alicante and in New York .
Regardless, Labour Day will come again soon enough, and at the moment, it's just her and Jem.
"Where do you want to go?" he asks.
She answers honestly. "I don't know."
"Well, where have you been going these years past?"
She thinks for a minute and realizes that home has not truly existed for her since Will died. "Everywhere," is her reply. "I've been traveling."
"Do you want to travel some more?" Jem asks quietly.
She turns to him and studied his face. After a full minute, she's still not sure what she's looking for, or what she's found.
"No," she whispers. "I've been traveling for seventy years. And to be honest, the traveling is starting to feel like running away."
Jem gives her a hug and a gentle kiss on her hair, and a month later they're in China, which they don't leave for five years.
But the year of two thousand and twelve is entirely another story.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALISON! A month late, and not as great as I would like it to be, but done! I love you a ton, and I really hope you enjoyed reading this! Be on the look out for more stories (not TID) at some point!
(I hope everyone else enjoyed reading it as well!) If there are any questions or thoughts you have, let me know, I'd love to hear what you thought of my first TID story!
Please don't favourite without reviewing!