Hey.
Summary: Alec's certain he's going to die, and it's Jace who he tells his last wishes to. He doesn't want to hear, but really, who does?
Enjoy.
If he were to speak, Jace feared he might shout rather loudly in his parabatai's face that there were a thousand places he would prefer to be than the outside of an old police station with his gloomy brother the evening before a bloody battle in which they all felt certain to die. He wanted to swear and shout and possibly engage in lewd sexual positions, or nice ones with Clary, but Alec had been insistent. And now, Jace thought tiredly, he was entirely silent.
Jace bit his tongue in order to keep from saying something he might regret, and instead said, "I hope you didn't ask me out here for one last night of glory. I'm hoping that role will be filled by someone else."
Alec looked momentarily startled, before recognizing the lilt of humour in his words. Things with Clary were certainly complicated, but something was bound to happen tonight. Things couldn't end the way they were. And while he would proudly die alongside Alec in battle, he didn't plan on spending the night with him.
The other Shadowhunter shifted uneasily and stared at his hands. "I didn't want to have to talk to Izzy about this," is all he says, and Jace knew immediately.
"You think you're going to die."
Alec didn't nod, but simply looked at Jace as though to say 'of course'. Of course, Jace thought. Of course.
Alec bit his lip and grimaced. "I can feel it."
"That's rubbish, Alec. I always thought I would feel it when you stopped being a virgin." Alec's eyes widened and Jace laughed. "No, I didn't feel it Alec. Thank the angel." He thought of the past few months. They had come so far. All he could think was how far they had come. If we all die, he thought, it's been for nothing. Jace's death would be grieved, maybe Isabelle's, but Alec… he couldn't think of who would grieve Alec if he and Isabelle were to die. "Some of us are going to live. Some of are not. You won't know until we're done."
Alec shook his head. "I'm going to die for you. Everyone thinks so. Everyone expects it, but it isn't the way they think. Something's going to try to hurt you, and I am going to die stopping it."
Jace felt like strangling him. "You're an idiot."
Alec laughed. "I would be proud to die for you."
"Is there anyone you wouldn't die for?" Jace snapped, and Alec was silent for the longest moment. He shook his head as though trying to take back the words, but he didn't say anything to stop Alec from answering them.
"Maybe Simon, but then Izzy-"
"Would be glad that her only remaining brother is alive? I should think so."
"She would be sad."
Jace scoffed. "She would be just as sad if it was you." That would have been the time for a witty retort or a cynical remark, but this was Alec, and Alec didn't do that. Alec gave away silence and peaceful judgment and balanced nods. "Just don't… don't plan to die."
Beneath the dim light of the porch, Alec looked older. He looked tired, and that, perhaps, upset Jace the most. Jace had often made light of Alec being the shyer, uninformed child in the Institute. Jace was the cool older brother who won the sword fights and martial arts. He was the popular, charismatic superior who could pop into Alec's room any time and ask for him to train with him, always to have him smile and promise to change into his gear and be out in five minutes like the good younger brother everyone thought he was. Now, in that moment, it occurred to Jace that he had never considered how often Alec had been humouring him; that Alec had been so willing to train with him because the mature thing to do was let himself be beaten and embarrassed so Jace could improve. This – this sickening, childish declaration of impending death – was Alec's idea of treating him like an adult.
"I've put all of my things in boxes," Alec mumbled. He didn't look at Jace, and there was something about the tightness in Alec's voice that made Jace shudder. "Not everything, obviously. Magnus wrote me a few letters. Give them to Izzy. I put all the weapons I'm not using under my bed. You can have whatever you like, and just enter the other things into the Institute storage system. Same with my excess gear. I made two boxes of valuables. One's for you, the other is Izzy's. Anything Lightwood related is hers except the watch with the engraving. Donate my clothes or throw them out. And this." Alec hadn't made eye contact with Jace for the vast majority of the conversation. Their eyes met for only a second as Alec produced a folded up piece of paper – no envelope, and with indents through the paper from where Alec had pushed too hard with him pen. It had Magnus's name on it. "I'm going to leave it under my pillow. If I don't come back, Izzy is gonna be the first to go into my room." Alec gave him a hard look. "Make sure she isn't."
Jace swallowed. "Why me?"
Alec shrugged. "Who else?"
Jace shook his head and groaned. "Our parents? I don't know. You don't have to do this. You could just pretend-"
"I'm going to die, Jace." And it sounded final, as though Alec had already seen himself sliced down the middle, the air caught in his throat; eyes bulging, mouth gaping, blood everywhere. Jace decided to stop thinking about it, because all he would see is the back of his parabatai's head because the idiot would be ahead of him, taking the fall for him. "Izzy would freak out if I told her."
"Yeah, whereas you knew I would be peaches and cream." Jace paused and sighed. "I'm younger than you. Preserve my lily white innocence would you, Alec?"
Alec only shrugged. "No one believes that. You're a better fighter, you're smarter, you're faster, you're a leader. I'm telling you this because I think you'll understand, and I think you'll do it well." He could have told Jace any number of reasons, but truthfully it was their bond. Parabatai, he thought, is a privilege, but also a responsibility. It means that they will die for each other, and it means that they see each other's weaknesses and strength. Alec's strength, he knew, would be anything that would keep Jace alive. It would be standing atop and mountain and shooting demons until one crawled up the platform and dismembered him with glee. It would be his body, flung in front of Jace to take a final blow. Jace's strength was his love, and Alec knew he would honour him in this.
Jace swallowed. "The letter?"
Alec smiled weakly. "It didn't end well with Magnus. He never really listened to my apologies or excuses, and I think he'll feel bad when I-"
"Then let him feel bad!" Jace snapped. Let Magnus see what mortality felt like. Let him feel the hollowness and bleakness of loss. Let him feel, Jace thought, like we will all feel.
"You don't understand."
"You're letting him take up what could be your last thoughts. Alec, we might only have hours, and you're thinking about a man who won't pick up any of your calls. I know it's… it might be too late, but make yourself happy. Let yourself feel something."
"Magnus knows loss better than anyone," said Alec without waver. "If I die, I die. But this is what's happening now." Alec shrugged. "You and Izzy get to be in the midst of the great loves of your lives. I might die after a short lived fling. Wars aren't timed to suit. You're just lucky, because after this, you'll find Clary and tie up your loose ends. Isabelle's probably with Simon. This is me tying up my loose ends."
Jace moved forward and hugged his brother. Alec bent down to squeeze him and he felt young. Alec pulled away first.
"We'll have time for this tomorrow."
"You won't die, Alec."
"We'll have time for that tomorrow too." Alec tucked the letter away in his pocket and smiled down at Jace, his face awkward and oddly lonely. "Find Clary, alright?"
Jace only nodded. He wouldn't even remember Alec later. Not when he found Clary. He wondered if Magnus ever remembered Alec. The thought crossed his mind that he might simply not give Magnus the letter.
But he would.
Looking at Alec's retreating back, he knew he would.
Jace wondered if he would one day be sitting in the Institute with children and weapons and books, and have to recall his parabatai. Was he strong? Was he good? Was he noble? Was he like you? And perhaps he would close his eyes and see Alec the way he stood beneath the dull lamplight as a part of his brain desperately wanted to find Clary. He would see a boy with tidy boxes that no one could look in for a week and a letter that sat dutifully under a pillow that he had to dash to retrieve before Isabelle could find it. He would remember reading the letter four times and wanting to rip it apart because he gave everything to Magnus that he didn't give to everyone else. The letter would contain stupid things like 'I loved you always' and 'even if you don't care and it doesn't matter, I…' He would remember the warlock, untouched by time, who would gasp as though gutted, who could only whisper 'Is there a ceremony?'. Jace would say yes. Magnus would cry over his body before it was burnt. Clary would paint his portrait, then again in ten years to do him justice. The boxes would be kept. Some things would find their way through generations – you're wearing Alec's watch, sometimes I let you use Alec's old blades and bows – and the rest would meet strange and forgettable ends.
And it goes just as Alec knew it would go; a sneaky demon, a stupid boy protecting his brother. A wasted youth.
He hopes, when he's old and thinks of it, that Alec saw the angry wave of blue magic. There was no time to look at his brother's face, but Jace felt it shatter his nerves and heard the cry of a warlock, and knew in a moment.
But that night, parabatai waved good bye. Jace had a thousand places he wanted to be.
And Alec couldn't think of a single place to go but home to his boxes and blades.
Thank you for reading!
