Magnus was lying on his sofa, reading a book about death. It was written in tiny dense script, mostly in Ancient Greek, and bound in a warrior's dead skin.
Even more depressingly, it was the most fun he'd had all day.
The knock on the door almost made him jump out of his skin. A decisive rat-a-tat-tat of bare knuckles on wood that had him leaping to his feet, desperate hope flaring in his throat. Wildly, he wrenched the door open, half hoping, half dreading to see dark hair and-
He did, but it was the wrong Lightwood. Isabelle stood impatiently in the doorway, hair dripping all over the carpet, cream trench-coat wet with rain.
"Your apartment smells like Chinese food," she said.
For a moment, Magnus was tempted to slam the door in her face. Only the knowledge that she could probably break it down again stopped him. And, even though he hated to admit it, he was pleased to see her. For the past two weeks he's had only Chairman Meow and his books for company. Yesterday he'd even tried starting up a conversation with the pizza delivery guy.
"Stop staring at me." She said briskly. "And let me in. I'm freezing, and my mascaras probably running."
"Oh, raining is it?" Magnus opened the door further, and Isabelle strode in, throwing her wet coat onto his sofa.
"I'm going to ignore that sad attempt at irony," She said, shaking her hair out. "didn't your mother ever tell you sarcasm is the lowest form of wit?"
"My mother hung herself when she found out I was the devil's child."
"Don't be depressing Magnus," Isabelle frowned, and in that moment she looked so much like Alec, he thought he broke a little bit more inside.
"What are you doing here?" He said.
She paused. "There's a problem-"
Magnus felt oddly betrayed. "Let me guess. Sebastian has kidnapped Simon to help care for his new pet chinchilla. No, better, Jace has run off the circus to fulfil his lifelong dream of becoming a trapeze artist, and Clary, in her misery, has joined a nunnery. Well don't expect me to help. I'm not your little warlock anymore. I'm done. You hear me? I'm done!" He was shouting by the end.
"I know." Isabelle said, her voice oddly gentle. "Clary came by a few days ago. She saw the sign."
Magnus stopped. He had decided to sell his apartment last week, but he hadn't dreamed that the Shadowhunters already knew. He wondered, briefly, how Alec felt about him leaving Manhattan. "Well it's none of your business." Magnus snapped. "I'm leaving, OK? I'm getting out. I already told Clary, I don't want to be a hero-"
"Magnus I didn't say-"
"And don't expect me to help you with your little problem. Oh no! I wouldn't get involved with any of you even if you paid me, which would actually be a first considering-" He had begun to get excited, and waving his arms around, he almost slapped Isabelle in the face when she strode over to him.
"This is just ridiculous." She poked him, hard in the chest. "It's you who's the problem, mister. Have you seen yourself! You're wearing pyjamas! When's the last time you went outside? And by the way your cat looks like he's dead-"
"He isn't dead!" Magnus shouted. "Why is everyone so interested in my cat?"
"Because you're pathetic." Isabelle said bluntly. "And it's embarrassing. Alec's even started seeing other people-"
"WHAT?" Magnus spun around. "But it's only been two weeks!"
"I know." Isabelle said with satisfaction. "I lied. I just wanted to see if you still cared."
Magnus lost his temper. "What do you want anyway?"
But Isabelle didn't answer. She began to wander restlessly around his apartment, like a panther in a cage. "When's the last time you ate?"
"I had Chinese yesterday."
"Really? 'Cause these smell like they've been here for longer."
"OK sweetheart, don't get all Christian Grey on my ass." Magnus was at the end of his patience. "What and how often I eat is none of your business. In fact-" He had a brainwave, "None of my life is your business anymore. So just tell me what you want and get out."
"I want you and Alec to get back together."
For the first time in two weeks, Magnus was utterly taken aback.
"Yeah, you heard me warlock. Alec's miserable. Yesterday I mentioned sandalwood, and he cried."
"What Alec does is none of my concern." Magnus said loftily.
"Just stop it. My brother's miserable, and it's your fault."
"My fault?" Magnus cried, outraged. "My fault! He tried to shorten my lifespan!"
"I know." Isabelle sighed. "I actually agree, he acted like a complete buttface."
"Well that's what I – Wait did you just say buttface Isabelle Lightwood?"
She ignored him. "I know it's his fault. But the bro code," She pronounced these words with such satisfaction, Magnus guessed Simon had been the one to teach her about the bro code. "says I have to side with him."
"If you and Alec are bros," Magnus said, momentarily distracted, "What does that make me? His ho?"
"His ex-ho. And that's why I'm here."
He turned away. "I can't Isabelle. I'm done. I'm getting out."
"But where will you go, when Sebastian wants to burn the whole world?" She asked softly.
He sighed. "I'm sure he only means your world. I doubt he'd bestir himself for little old me. I've been planning on going to London."
"What's in London that's not in New York?" Isabelle asked defiantly.
"Memories. An old friend I'd like to see. No Lightwoods or Herondales, that's the main attraction."
"But you can't run away!" Isabelle burst out desperately. "We need you! And I think you need us too!" She looked at him imploringly. "Please Magnus. If you won't stay for Alec, stay for us."
Magnus started past her, out of the window at the Manhattan skyline, blurred with rain. The same skyline he woke to see every day. He was sick of it, he realized. Sick of this city and everyone in it. Sick of waking up every day and feeling like someone in very spiky shoes was walking all over his heart. Sick of hurting.
"No Isabelle." He said gently. "I don't need you. I don't need anyone."