"Magnus." Alec begins, picking at the sleeve of one of his adorably old sweaters. He's sitting next to Magnus on the couch Magnus has borrowed from a nearby store. They were watching some television show almost as old as Magnus that Alec has developed a precious addiction to. Alec claims one of the characters looks like Magnus. Magnus suspects he is lying to himself to justify his addiction, but that's okay.
"Alec." Magnus replies with a raised eyebrow. He might add something snarky in any other circumstance, but he's relatively comfortable and Alec looks almost nervous. Magnus really hopes he isn't going to have another relationship panic. Magnus is trying his hardest to understand, after all Alec is still young and Shadowhunters are not notorious for being accepting, but as much as it pains him, he wishes Alec would settle on one side or the other. He could handle rejection, but not the constant threat of rejection. Besides, as previously mentioned, he is too comfortable to have another conversation right now.
"You now we've been dating for a while now and I… I haven't told my parents." Alec says, sucking in a breath, blue eyes finally staring Magnus in the face. They blaze with a determination Magnus hasn't seen since the last time he dragged Magnus into Clary and Jace's latest mess. Magnus blinks, and slowly returns his gaze to the television show. He still doesn't remember the name. How odd is it that Alec decides now to address the fears that plague both of them on a daily basis. They both fear rejection, but from different people.
"I… understand your hesitations." Magnus finally settles on, feeling magnanimous. He looks back at Alec from under his eyelashes, and Alec is turning a very attractive shade of red. Magnus immediately begins to pay more attention to the conversation.
"I've decided I don't care. I love you, and if I'm disowned, I can always move in with you." Alec's brow furrows, and he blushes darker, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, if that's okay with you." He mumbles, shrinking in on himself and returning to picking at his sleeve. Magnus doesn't bother replying, instead standing up, picking Alec up, and swinging him in a circle, laughing the entire time. It startles a laugh out of Alec too, and Magnus can't help the lazy, pleased, catlike smile that overtakes his face. He sets Alec's back against the couch and is just about to demonstrate exactly how okay he is with the idea when he hears something bang loudly against his floor. He blinks and the entire scene goes fuzzy.
"Wah?" Magnus mumbles, and very suddenly he is in his bedroom, alone. He listens very closely and sighs to himself. Sure enough, he hears the quiet sound of footsteps and angry muttering coming from his kitchen. If whoever is in his house is not Alec, come to make his incredibly uncharacteristic dream come true, he is going to be very, very displeased. He creeps quietly to his kitchen nook and blinks twice, hard. A figure outlined completely in black from their messy hair to their painfully practical boots is standing in his kitchen. They are muttering lowly to themself, trying to reach the bowls in Magnus' cabinets, a box of Coco Puffs sitting innocently on the counter beside them.
"Alec?" He asks, shocked. He straightens, and turns the corner, in full view of the figure. But the minute the moment he sees them more fully he knows it is not Alec. The figure may have the same lovely disheveled hair, but he's too short, and looks dirtier than Alec would ever allow unless he was just back from a mission. The figure whirls around when they hear Magnus, eyes wide to reveal the darkest, most suspicious eyes Magnus has ever seen. (Alec is a close second though. And Magnus is a little disappointed in himself that even Alec's name sends such a thrill through his body. The kid is turning him into a sap. Who works for free. He wishes he could hate Alec.)
"Who are you?" The boy demands and Magnus takes a second to sweep a slightly judgmental eye over the boy's appearance. He's wearing a shirt with a skull on it, fraying at the hem, his hair is a jungle, and one of his boots has come untied. Magnus, on the other hand, is still wearing his silk sleeping robe and the make-up he doesn't bother to take off half the time. He knows exactly what image he projects to people, though oddly enough, or perhaps not, his invader doesn't seem at all fazed. Instead the child, because he can't be more than 13 in human years, seems ready to fight, as if he fully realizes Magnus' power. This is not a reaction Magnus gets a lot, especially from children, and he finds his curiosity piqued.
"That would be my question, would it not? After all, you are the intruder in my house." Magnus drawls, leaning casually against the side of the wall. The child tenses even more than he already has, and Magnus has a moment of irrational fear that he will break, and Magnus can tell he is about to do something not conductive to their conversation, try to escape, perhaps, or throw Magnus' favorite cereal at his head. Either way, Magnus wants to avoid the trouble. He traces an intricate pattern in the air as quickly as he's able and pushes, creating magical bonds around the boy, who immediately and completely loses what little composure he had.
"What are you doing? Let me go! Let me go!" The boy screams, voice cracking painfully. Then he doesn't even have the decency to give Magnus a moment to thank all possible deities that he magically soundproofed his home before he's summoned a skeleton out of Magnus' kitchen floor. Magnus is floored, more than a little impressed. The kid is a necromancer, and though one can never really tell with warlocks, at a very, very young age. Still, his floor now has a three foot crack (which points again to unskilled child, the necromancers Magnus knows can summon skeletons either from three mile gashes in the earth, or a singular point no more than a centimeter wide, depending on the circumstances), and he's still cranky about being woken up so early, or maybe it's late, so he tightens the bonds to just shy of painful.
"Get rid of it." He says firmly, looking his intruder in the eyes. The boy smirks nastily, in the way that only pre-teens can. Well three strikes and all that, this is definitely a child warlock, with more power than he can handle. Just what Magnus wanted to deal with on a beautiful Saturday morning like this one.
"Don't know how." The boy croaks. Of course not, Magnus sighs to himself, that would be far too easy. No, he has to get the interesting people. Still, Magnus isn't the High Warlock of Brooklyn for nothing, and so he half turns to skeleton and reaches out to get a sense of the magic in it. He'll have to be quick about it; the skeleton is starting to move. His eyebrows climb almost into his hairline. Surprises never end, not only is the intruder a young necromancer, he's a young, extremely powerful necromancer. Magnus hasn't felt this type of concentrated power in some of his centuries old acquaintances. Magnus manages, however, to shove the skeleton back into the crack in his kitchen and firmly seal it, though it's a close call. Given a few more years, this kid might be on equal levels with Magnus in terms of power. He's not sure how he feels about that. He turns back to face the boy, and finds him with his eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped out.
"Who are you?" The boy repeats, this time with a healthy dose of fear and awe that hits Magnus' ego properly. He does so enjoy a good audience, and the boy's stopped his struggling. Good things do happen.
"Quid pro quo, little intruder." Magnus answers cheerfully, summoning a proper table and chairs. He traces another symbol in the air and a chair hits the boy in the knees just so. The child, wide-eyed and fearful, falls heavily into the chair. Magnus feels a little bad, but then, most wouldn't be as kind as him given an intruder such as this child. He sits himself, folding his hands together and smiling pleasantly. The boy has gone sullen and silent. Magnus sighs, he has three options here, he supposes. He could kill the boy, allow him to get away, or force this conversation. The Accords discourages the first, at least in writing, his pride disallows the second, so there's really only one option. "How old are you?" He asks. That's a good enough baseline to start with.
"Twelve." The boy says immediately, head snapping back up with pride. Magnus sighs again. This conversation is going to be like pulling teeth; he's already getting a stress migraine.
"Decades, Centuries?" Magnus probes, waving his hand carelessly. The boy flinches away from the motion, so Magnus very slowly raises it and returns his hands to their previous position, in sight of the boy, but folded calmly. With this the child appears to focus on his question and his brow furrows.
"Years." The boy replies slowly, confused. Magnus is legitimately shocked, and the boy must be able to tell, because he suddenly scowls. "How old are you?" He demands sorely. If there was any doubt in Magnus' mind that the boy was telling the truth, it's gone now.
"Almost eight. Centuries." Magnus states distractedly. The boy's jaw drops lower than Magnus would've thought possible, though perhaps that's his warlock distinction. There's nothing else so far as Magnus can tell. The boy might've fallen out of his chair if the bonds hadn't been holding him there, and Magnus finds his shock charming. Thinking of the bonds, Magnus experimentally loosens them, just slightly, to check his reaction. He's subtle about the hand gesture, and though the boy immediately looks at Magnus' hands, he appears to pass it off, more focused on Magnus' previous statement. It's as though the boy is deaf to magic. Fascinating, Magnus thinks to himself, and drops the bonds to almost nonexistence.
"That's not—I mean—You can't be." The boy splutters, hands dancing in protestation. Magnus smiles a little, and the kid's frown deepens. "You don't even have a Myth—" He cuts himself off, a sour look overtaking his face. Magnus makes a mental note to find out what he almost said. "Are you lying?" The boy demands suspiciously, staring seriously into Magnus' eyes.
"If I was lying, it is highly unlikely that I'd tell you." Magnus points out, almost pleased at the predictable, sullen glare he earns in response. "However, no, I'm not lying. I've grown a bit fuzzy on the exact year, but it's around eight hundred." Magnus shrugs carelessly. He softens though, at the boy's change in expression. He looks shell-shocked, and a little like he might get sick. The boy's an open book, though he's clearly trying not to be. "Has no one ever thought you about your kind?" Magnus asks gently. The boy looks puzzled, and his head tilts to the side like a puppy.
"My—?" The boy is visibly confused now, and Magnus greatly desires to keep him in the kitchen forever, with as many cookies and warm blankets as he desires. Someone has clearly been remise in training the child, and while Magnus has never considered mentorship, it's clear life would never be dull with a kid like this one. His name will be necessary, however, as Magnus is sick of referring to him as 'boy' or 'child' interchangeably. Nevertheless, he should probably answer his question before he gets that sullen look again.
"Yes, warlocks, practitioners of magic, does any of this ring a bell?" Magnus asks, and the boy's brow furrows once more. He shifts in his seat restlessly.
"I'm not a warlock, though. I mean I've never done any magic. Except—" The boy breaks off again, looking down at the floor. Magnus is really starting to become irritated with this child's inability to finish sentences. He's staring at the crack in the floor, when Magnus traces his trail of vision, but he doesn't seem to be doing it consciously. Magnus doesn't press the issue, as the child looks distressed and near tears.
"We'll leave that aside for now, then. But getting back to my first question, who are you, and what leads you here tonight?" Magnus waves his hand, staving off the boy's angry retort. "Now, now, I said at the beginning, little intruder, did I not? Quid pro quo, a name for a name." Magnus stares seriously across the table until the boy hesitantly nods. Magnus beams as he does and continues. "Excellent. I am Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn." Magnus can't help himself; he sends little fireworks to shoot off it the air, framing his name is bright, neon pink, glittery, block letters. It's an adaptation of one of the first party tricks he learned, and honestly it's his favorite bit of magic, transfiguring basic atoms in the air into different light particles. It's pretty basic, but always attention-catching.
The boy looks honestly amazed, which is the proper response to Magnus' magic, not 'Oh do my friends free favors Magnus, I'm lucky you love me Magnus' but he digresses. He likes this look on the kid's face, because Magnus thinks it's the first time his little intruder has looked like a child throughout their entire discourse. The boy reaches for the letters, and Magnus feels relatively assured that he won't run off, so he drops the remaining bonds. The boy is half on the table, poking at Magnus' name and setting off cheerful skull fireworks in green and blue, negating his claim that he can't be a warlock. If he didn't have magic, Magnus' magic would simply give under his fingertips, but not react in any another way. Eventually he clears his throat and sits back in his seat, shoulders hunching up in embarrassment.
"I'm Nico di Angelo." Nico states grudgingly, but someone raised this boy right, because his hand is already out stretched to Magnus before Nico even seems to notice. Magnus grabs it before he can yank it back and shakes once. "What you were saying before—about warlocks?" Nico asks hesitantly, having folded his hands in his lap. He glares down at them like he's blaming his hands for the handshake. It amuses Magnus more than it, perhaps, should. Magnus grins and Nico waves his hand dismissively. "I know, I know, whatever exchange thing, but I don't have anything left to say."
"Au contraire, little friend." Magnus feels his grin widen, and is unable to keep himself from reaching over and tweaking Nico's cheek. It is handled with the amount of grace he expected, which is to say, none. Nico snarls and twists his head violently to the side, curling in on himself like a cat, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder, as though he can remove the moment from time. Magnus laughs, and then continues. "I will give you the quickest possible history on warlocks, and you will tell me how you got into my apartment, agreed?" Magnus asks. Nico nods firmly, but distrustfully, clearly still stuck on the cheek incident. Magnus fights the twitching corners of his mouth into submission and begins.
"We are the offspring of demons and humans. This leaves us with longer lives and magical powers, as well as some attributes that are inexcusably inhuman. Do you follow so far?" Magnus asks, Nico's brow is furrowed once again, but he nods, so Magnus resumes. "The magic also manifests in different ways. My first affinity was fire-" Magnus is unable to stop the wince that wracks his body, but Nico doesn't comment "-whereas yours appears to be death. That's not a common occurrence, so congratulations kid. There are a few drawbacks, of course. Shadowhunters who attempt to kill us on a biweekly basis, the inability to have kids, not that I expect you are worried about that, and the chance of spells going horribly wrong." Magnus finishes. Nico looks intrigued, so Magnus figures his job is done.
"Can you teach me how to raise someone from the dead?" He asks eyes bright with attention. Magnus winces, he was afraid this was coming. He does not expect this conversation to end civilly. Nico probably won't believe him and will try anyways, that's fine. Magnus will be here when he does. Hopefully it won't be too bad.
"No. Look at me Nico, once someone is dead, they are dead, and there's no going back. It's been attempted more times than I can tell you, but it never works. They don't come back the same, do you understand? Do not attempt that type of necromancy." Magnus stares at the boy until he lowers his head in sullen anger. Magnus takes a deep breath, he probably hadn't dissuaded the boy, but maybe Nico might listen. "Anymore questions?" He asks, more pleasantly. Nico shakes his head moodily.
"Good. Now before you fulfill your side of the bargain, I want you to take this." Magnus magically lifts a cellphone from the nearest store. He silences his internal Alec voice that tells him borrowing is sketchy enough, and this is straight out stealing. "This has my number pre-programmed in. If you need me, call. I won't promise anything, but if it's at all possible, I will find you." Magnus hands the phone over. Nico takes it hesitantly, suspiciously looking from the phone to Magnus and back again. "Now, explain away." Magnus commands, sweeping his arms out in permission for Nico to explain this great intrusion.
Nico starts guiltily from where he had been staring at the phone with an inexplicable sadness in his eyes. He pockets the phone quickly, like he's afraid Magnus might try to take it back. "I shadowtravelled. It's like…" Nico scrunches his face up in concentration, vaguely gesturing at nothing. Magnus bites back a smile, this child is precious, but he'd definitely leave if he knew how cute Magnus thought he was. And clearly, he was in need of an adult who would at least attempt to nudge along his education, so Magnus wasn't going to actively try to chase him off. "It's like; you take a subway, right, but only in shadows. There are a lot of weird noises, and pictures, and the subway's windows are all open." Nico looks satisfied, nodding to himself and leaning back in his seat. Magnus is honestly not sure what he just said, but Nico tried, so he's willing to let it slide. "Anyway, thanks for not being a monster, I guess, and for the cereal I stole, and the explanation. But, I don't think I'm a warlock." Nico shrugs carelessly. Magnus sighs, and is almost ready to try a different tactic, when Nico summons what looks like a portal, slides into it, and disappears.
"What a fascinating child." Magnus muses to himself as he stands and waves the table and chairs back to the store the came from. A baby warlock, who refused to be called a warlock, could summon portals by himself and enter them… Magnus' life just got even more exciting.
Now, I know what you're all saying. 'mysterySanity, finish your last story before you start another one' but hear me out. I have no excuses. I am garbage. I'm only mildly sorry. That said, if you notice any huge errors (or tiny ones, for that matter), please tell me. The last time I proofread this, I was claiming Nico's eyes were blue, so obviously, I'm not that smart. This may or may not be a one shot. I haven't decided.
Cover Photo was attributed by google to here: /diangelo