Silence.
That was all Magnus could hear.
Silence.
The sound of it was deafening, and it filled the loft like a poison gas. The rain of earlier had stopped, but the damp ground still shone in the hazy light of the street lamps. A thick mist had descended upon Brooklyn, making it impossible to see more than a few yards in any direction. To Magnus, it seemed as though the world was slowly closing in around him. He slid his hand down the damp glass and slowly turned from the window at which he had been stood for four, maybe five hours without rest. Magnus sank onto the sofa and placed his head in his icy hands. He glanced back towards the window and watched as again the rain began; its soft pitter-patter breaking the crushing silence. It had been raining then, when Alec had left more than six hours ago. More than a lifetime ago. At least, that's how it seemed to Magnus, waiting and praying that his shadowhunter would return to him. Worry mixed with guilt; Magnus's never ending guilt that he was sat safe at home whilst Alec risked his life fighting demons. That was his job, ridding the world of darkness. Magnus only wished that he could do it in his lover's stead; keep him from harm. Magnus was immortal, but alas Alec was not.
Images that Magnus had long since driven from his mind returned to haunt his waking nightmare. Alec, slowly dying, his body riven with demon poison; Alec, helpless and alone, drowning in the East river. At the memory of Alec's limp and lifeless form drifting discarded through the water, Magnus leapt up and crossed to the door, tearing his coat from its peg as he went. With one of Alec's arrows in hand, he paused upon the sidewalk outside his home and performed the required spell. An image immediately appeared in his mind; a dark and dingy alleyway littered with trash bags and sodden crates. Magnus opened his eyes, and ran off down the street. He hastened that it was between three and four in the morning, as there were no cars or other pedestrians. No-one to bother him. Magnus concentrated on his route, didn't let into his mind the fears as to what he would find at his destination. Finally, heart racing, he arrived at the alley.
He paused, and heard a faint rustling ahead of him. Sweeping his damp hair out of his eyes, Magnus slowly walked forward, dodging around the rubbish strewn across the ground. The shape of a large, overflowing dumpster loomed out of the darkness, behind which a pair of combat clad legs protruded. There in the alley, leant against the wall of an abandoned Chinese takeaway, was the un-breathing body of Alec Lightwood. The ever persistent rain had plastered his hair to his face, and those blue eyes that Magnus so adored were closed. His jacket was covered with blood and dirt, and his once white shirt was stained with red. A still glowing seraph blade lay centimetres from Alec's outstretched right hand, and its point was caked in un-drying blood. His left arm was bent at a painfully unnatural angle, as was his leg, the thigh of which also sported a deep and bloody gash. Magnus knelt down and slowly stroked the shadowhunter's cheek, which felt heartbreakingly cold, even to the icy hands of the older warlock. The rain fell heavier than before as Magnus placed his hand on his lover's chest and willed his heart to beat. His hand glowed blue and sparks leapt from his fingertips, yet still Alec remained lifeless. A single tear began to slide down Magnus's face.
"Please."
Suddenly, as if he had said the magic words, Magnus felt a faint fluttering beneath his palm. Alec gasped as air rushed once more into his lungs. The warlock breathed a slow sigh of relief as he watched the rhythmic rise and fall of the shadowhunter's chest. Exhausted, Magnus rested his head upon Alec's shoulder and closed his eyes.
The rain finally stopped, and silence fell once more. Yet this was not the silence which had crept through Brooklyn and stolen all contentment.
This was a calm silence of eternal peace and love.