Author's note:
What can I say? I was in the need for some whump and comfort after Erchomai 3x10 (worst effing title for an episode btw spoiled then and there that Jonathan was going to make it, erchomai means ascent in ancient greek) and went all out on the tragic trauma.
This is set somewhere between season 2 and 3. Magnus and Alec have made up, but there still is a bit of hurt and doubt in Alec's mind which can become easily blown out of proportions when suffering from shock himself...
We'll see where this will end. I haven't finished yet, so input is highly welcome and invited.
When it rains… it pours… there will be blood in the water… cold… to the core… (Ruelle - Live like legends)
The stark opposition between the noisy mayhem of battle and the shocked silence of unfolding tragedy were nothing short of poetic.
Jace would have noted it, would his mind have allowed for such a trivial thought in the middle of his fifth slay of another shax demon this night. Instead, his brain refused to compute the visual input that his eyes delivered to his adrenaline pumped brain as the demon disintegrated before his eyes and revealed the sight of assembled nightmares coming to life all in the span of a single second.
Behemoth, a higher demon that had been wreaking havoc on New York's down and mundane world alike for weeks, had managed to breach the defenses of their team of Shadowhunters and was plunging his dark and misshapen claws into Isabelle Lightwoods chest, threatening to tear her apart. There was no cry, only a deep painful sigh that was lost between the sounds of battle of a dozen Shadowhunters against a quickly diminishing number of lesser demons, shax, ravenor, vetis and mantid, alike.
Alec was pinned down by a brutish vetis demon that had rushed him only seconds before, crashing him into the far wall with astonishing agility for such a creature. By doing so, Jace had for the smallest of instants, lost his concentration, feeling the impact on Alec through their bond as his back and head connected with the brittle concrete with heightened speed. The distraction was enough for an opening. An opening a greater demon such as Behemoth would not let go unused. An opening that proved nothing short of fatal.
Clary, incredibly clear sighted, reacted within a split second now, realising her own chance to vanquish this powerful foe as its attention was turned on Isabelle who with her prowess and the precision of her demon burning whip had cleared the field around them both. An formidable advantage turned into painful danger. With an elegant and measured motion that contrasted harshly with the grim surroundings of the underground battlefield of debris in the abandoned warehouse where they had finally found Behemoth's hiding place, Clary drew her personal sun rune into her left palm immediately turning it onto the son of hell as bright sunlight spilled out of her hand.
The beast turned around as the sunlight hit its disgusting form, his dark slits that stood in for eyes narrowed at Clary. For a moment that seemed to stretch out into eternity while Isabelle remained suspended in the air, her body crushed, her lungs punctured and her blood dripping onto the floor, nothing happened. Nothing.
Until, at last, angelic power overtook the odds and exploded the powerful demon into a final rain of embers and unpleasant ichor, banishing it back to the unnamed ring of hell it had come from.
Jace barely noticed the sunlight flooding the space and illuminating every single detail. He barely registered the lesser demons' disorientation which allowed the remaining Shadowhunters to gain the upper hand in this fight that had lasted much too long already.
No, Jace's body and mind had separated into two distinct and contrary motions. His body followed a deep and ancient fighting training so ingrained within the parabatai rune that his conscious mind was left to its own devices, unable to process anything at this point. In a few measured steps he was close to where Alec tried to regain his footing while at the same time finding space to plunge his seraph dagger into the demon who had tried to crush him. With a decisive undercut swing, Jace disposed of the black, grotesque demonic figure, leaving Alec leaning up against the wall gasping for breath.
"Izzy…. Please, Izzy…" Clary was the first one by her side. Isabelle Lightwood, formidable knight blessed with angelic blood, had fallen to the ground where her long dark locks spilled over rubble and debris, as if they had been draped there by some classical painter about to pain a dramatic tragedy of biblical proportions. Blood had started to pool within the dust and suddenly the whole underground warehouse had fallen eerily silent. Her eyes were closed, her lips unmoving, the drop of blood on them barely visible against the deeper red of her favourite lipstick colour.
"Isabelle!" Clary urged Isabelle to open her eyes. She didn't dare touch her friend, for fear of causing even more damage. There was blood everywhere, deep gaping holes, ripped skin and muscle, visible bone fragments… nobody could survive that. Clary pushed the thought away as quickly as she could.
Jace dropped onto his knees beside Clary, searching Isabelle's features for a sign, before calling out to Alec. "She's still breathing! Clary…! Portal us out of here. Now!" It took Clary a moment to realise what he was asking for, her mind still reeling from the scene.
She felt tears well up somewhere deep in her belly, spilling upwards and threatening to choke her as she got up on her two feet.
Alec was incredibly calm, directing the remaining Shadowhunters under his command to converge, swaying slightly, he drew out his phone and with the simple flick of a finger launched the emergency field protocol that would tell the Institute reinforcements and medics where to find them. The line came to life and Liz Starling's concerned voice replied to his urgency. He lifted the phone to his mouth, asking Liz to stand ready to come to their aid, waiting for Clary's portal.
Clary was already trying to summon a portal, and the tell tale gush of air announced the golden ring of reality bending energy… until it simply faded out in front of her. "Come on… come on… come on… come on… come on…" Young Clary, so fierce, and so inexperienced had never witnessed such violent loss and try as she might to resist it, her body and mind were going into shock. She redrew the rune with quick and measured movements, the stele in her hand barely showing the tremor of fear in her arm. Again the portal would not manifest.
"Clary!" Jace called out to her, imploringly, the dread and urgency laced in an uncomfortable way across the syllables of her name. "I am trying!" - Clary couldn't and wouldn't hide the tears and terror in her voice. Once more her emotions came in the way of her abilities. Now, of all times. Now. When she seemed to be the only one capable to do anything to save her friends life.
Finally, Alec dropped on his knees beside his sister, his eyes searching for her Amissio Rune with his pulled stele somewhere on her lower ribcage. "… the rune's gone. It's not activating…" the words were strangled. Somewhere at the back of his throat a huge lump of pain and anguish lodged itself firmly between his vocal chords while his mind refused to process once more what he had just said. The rune, along with the skin it had adorned, muscle, bone and fabric from Isabelle's red top had been torn and shredded.
"Alec…! Draw a new one!" Jace seemed to be the only one able to keep a hold on the situation and the insistent undertone of annoyance snapped Alec out of his loop. He hastily drew the blood slowing Amissio rune onto the back of Isabelle's hand and it slowly glowed to life. The slow reaction was not a good sign. The runes were getting weaker by the minute.
"Breathe." The word was spoken in a calm that defied the circumstances in which the were finding themselves, but they were directed at Clary. Alec fixed his eyes on her, willing her to calm herself.
Seconds later, the portal finally sprung to life only a few feet from Isabelle, her hair slowly catching in the whirling movement of the energy that ripped a hole into the fabric of time and space.