And the sky was pink.

It was so calm, so quiet, so warm. The humid Brooklyn street was dull, the sun setting in the distance was so pale, and the alcohol burned his throat as it went down but not even that could match the pain. The insourmountable, undeniable pain that was tearing through his chest making him want to scream and cry, and his heart ached so bad. He threw the bottle at a wall, pushing all his rage and hurt into the throw, and watch the smashed pieces hit the floor.

His heart felt a little like that, and his head felt wierd. Almost like he was high, but on high on pain. Everything was a little foggy and blurred around the edges and the pink sky was turning pale blue. A streetlight flickered on in the distance, an obnoxiosly yellow glow bathed the street. He glared at it as though it had personally offended him, then stormed - well, stumbled - in the vague direction of home.

He wasn't looking forward to getting there, he knew it would feel empty without another's presence there. He'd grown so used to not being alone, to have someone to come home to, he didn't know how'd he'd feel with nothing but the silence to keep him company. Maybe he'd go out of his mind? Maybe he already had? He stopped coming up with more maybe's because his heard hurt when he thought too hard.

As he walked, the sky grew darker, more lights turned on, more streets bathed in brightness. His life was still just as dull. The light of his life - as corny a phrase as that was - was gone, and wouldn't be returning. He dragged his feet as he went, and soon his towering appartment building came into view. He didn't hurry to get home.

He knew there was someone inside the second he got there, he could just feel it. In his grieving state, he didn't prepare for a fight, he wasn't in any fit state to anyway. Instead, he just hoped he had enough energy to cast a spell or two and get it over with. He was in no mood for visitors, in no mood for playing nice and making conversation. He wanted more alcohol, and his bed. The bed he'd be sleeping in alone for the first time in years.

He opened the door, he found Jace sat on his couch, tears staining his face. Anger boiled deep within his core, and he was half tempted to cast a spell anyway, even if Jace wasn't a threat. If he didn't have Alec's voice in his head telling him to play nice, he would have done. But he had always done whatever it took to make Alec happy, he wasn't about to stop now.

"What do you want?" He spat at Jace, feeling his magic rise to the surface, every part of him screaming to get revenge.

"Nothing." Jace replied, and somehow Magnus belived him.

"Then why are you here?" Magnus demanded, voice sharp.

Jace shrugged and said, "I just didn't want to go home tonight," in the same monotonous voice he had used before.

"So you came here?" Magnus was beyond furious.

Jace lets out a bitter laugh that has no trace of amusment in it. Magnus' magic is thrumming in his fingertips, daring him to cast a single spell, but he pushes it down. Alec wouldn't want it, wouldn't want Magnus and Jace, or Izzy or Clary or even Simon tearing each other apart. Damn saint would want them all sat together braiding each other's hair and telling embaressing stories, whatever it took to make them feel whole again.

Magnus didn't think he'd ever feel whole again. There was a black box sat on his desk with a delicate silver key to go with it, it was all Alec had given him. He hated that box nearly as much as he hated Jace, but of course he knew he didn't hate Jace, not really. But he was so angry and upset, he didn't know what else to do other than direct that pain onto a person. Jace seemed like a pretty easy target.

"I know you blame me," Jace said after a few minutes of an awkward silence. "Hell, I blame me a little bit. But, I tried Magnus. I swear I tried every damn thing, every rune I could think of and even ones I didn't think would do much. The wound was too deep and I was too late. I swear I gave that filthy demon hell when I got my hands on him. If their bodies remained in this world, I don't think there'd be enough of it left to identify."

Jace's voice was breathy, and he sounded as thoug he was on the verge of tears. Magnus hadn't cried, not once. He whole world just felt... numb. And he told himself he should be crying, that he should be sobbing and screaming so much he couldn't breathe. But, he just couldn't. He'd watched Jace cry and Izzy cry, Clary had cried, too. But he just... couldn't? And he felt so damn guilty for it.

"Oh, so that's okay then, right? Alec's still dead but you went to town on his murderer, so that's okay?" Magnus yelled, every syllable laced with venom.

Jace hadn't moved, stayed stoic staring straight ahead. His cheeks were still damp with tears, but his face was expressionless, almost like he physically could paint it into any form of expression. As though he didn't even have the energy to smile or frown or cry anymore. He was spent, Magnus was too.

"If I could swap places with him I could, if I knew a way to bring him back I'd do it in a heartbeat but I can't. I just can't." Jace argued, nothing about him changing.

Magnus had had enough. "I think you should leave," he said.

Jace moved then, standing up and walking towards the door. Magnus stepped well out of his way, watching each lethargic movement carefully, documenting it all, remembering it. He wanted to remember as little of this day as he could, but there was something in the back of his mind telling him to pay attention to everything. He wished the voice in his head would just shut up for once.

"I loved him to, y'know," Jace said, lingering in the doorway. "Maybe not the same way as you, but I loved him. I miss him just as much as you do."

And then he left, and Magnus was alone and the apartment was so empty and so quiet. But not at all peaceful, and Magnus would give anything for Alec to be lazing on a piece of furniture complaining about the amount of glitter Magnus coated everything in, or moaning about Jace or a mission. He'd give anything.

Later that night, Magnus would sob as he read the first of many letters Alec left him, but that is a story for another time. After Jace closed the door behind him, Magnus felt the magic ease from him, the constant hum melting away. All of it replaced by sadness, so, so much saddness.