Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing.
I've been wanting to write something from Magnus' perspective about the aftermath of 2x15 because everything with his background broke my heart into tiny little pieces, if I could shield you from pain forever I would bb, and after tapping at my keyboard for a little while this came out.
And the road winds ever on.
It's been centuries but the feelings are still the same.
The sky is dull and dreary, the clouds above dark and heavy like they're simply waiting for the right moment to being pouring rain.
Magnus considers it to be oddly fitting.
It's been... he doesn't even know how long since he last dared to step foot here. He'd tried once, when he was older, thinking that the pain had passed enough for him to finally be able to return without the crushing guilt drowning out everything else. To be able to finally get closure.
He'd been wrong, and he had never attempted it since.
But now, it wasn't better per-se, the guilt and pain was still there as he looked up to the overgrown trail that lead to what he had once called home, but he knew that he had let this fester for too long, ignored the need for closure like he could just lock it away in his heart as if it never existed. He needed to do this, for his own sake more than anything else.
Alec had offered to come with him, to share this burden, and while a not-insignificant part of him had wanted to take Alec up on his offer, Magnus knew deep down that he needed to do this alone. That this was private and Alec had more than understood.
Taking in a deep breath Magnus pushed himself forward, the want to turn back and forget he'd even thought of doing this an ever-present tickle in the back of his mind, but he relented. If he didn't do this now, if he ran away again it would linger like poison in his heart.
His steps faltered as the decaying remains of his childhood home came into view, some of the wooden beams having rotted away to give clear view inside, while trees and vines had done their work of claiming the building back into the land.
Magnus paused as he stared at what was left of the front door, one of the more ornate fabrics that his step-father had loved to decorate the house with having fallen from it's perch over the years, hanging in tatters within the doorway. It rippled occasionally with the light wind.
Taking in another breath Magnus moved up to the steps, careful with his footing given how dilapidated everything was, the last thing he needed was to injure himself here of all places.
The wood groaned and creaked as he stepped up onto the planking, his heart hammering in his chest as he pushed the ruined fabric aside and walked into the house, his boots thudding almost too loudly in the silence. Tears prickled at his eyes as he looked around, for all that the layout was recognisable the decades had done away with nearly everything he could remember about this place.
… Somehow that helped a little.
He wandered as much as he could, mostly taking in the now-ruined living space, a room off to the side that would be near impossible to get through by how much debris was in the way, and his mother's room.
Magnus paused at the entrance to the room, his feet refusing to move him any further forwards in fear of so many different things. That it would be exactly like he remembered, that the scent of death and burnt flesh would still linger.
He swallowed once, closing his eyes for a moment before pushing himself forwards, telling himself that he would accept whatever this room held.
His breath left him all at once, the room was no different than the others, time having decayed it like the rest of the house into an almost unrecognisable ghost of it's former self. The bed was still where he remembered but the sheets had been long-since removed, leaving only the broken frame and mostly rotted away mattress. There was no smell either, except of dust and the foliage that had broken up through the floor.
The floorboards creaked as he stepped further into the room, he could remember everything here perfectly, as if it happened yesterday. But with how everything looked, how foreign this place had become to him the fear that had gripped him not even ten minutes ago no longer held him so tightly.
He rubbed a hand over his mouth at the very real realisation that it really had been centuries, and that he had been holding onto this for too long.
Magnus took in a deep breath, his eyes closing as the memories of this place washed over him, and not just of that night, of the few peaceful moments where he had sat by his mother and learned to read, when his step-father had left him alone, even the few smiles he had seen on his mothers face.
His breath shuddered out of him as he exhaled, those memories weren't enough to drown out the bad that this place held for him, or to fully swallow the guilt and pain that he had carried around for so long, but something in him had settled slightly at being here.
He took another look around the room, towards the bed, glancing at where he had burned his step-father, and fought back the urge to bring his arms around himself. Magnus waited for a beat, the air still and silent around him.
"I'm not sorry for existing."
His own voice sounded stronger than he felt, barely any waver to it at all, because he hadn't been sorry for that in a long time. Had come to metaphorically spit in the face of anyone who dared to suggest that he should, and he knew that he was only speaking to thin air and the rotting ruins of a building that barely resembled the place that he had feared for so many centuries.
But he had needed to say it, to hear himself voice it in the very place where he had been called a monster, an abomination.
He took in another steadying breath, looking around one last time before he turned around and walked out of the room and the house that had haunted him for so long.
This wasn't a magical fix, he'd still need time to work through it all, but as he summoned a portal to take him home with the knowledge that a pair of warm arms were waiting for him, he felt like he could finally begin to heal.