A/N! So, I started watching the series from season 2, and yes, it is weird, but I just couldn't really watch season 1. And I am loving every episode and of course I am dying for Malec moments. So, here is my take on what followed after episode 5 of season 2 "Dust and Shadows". Please be gentle I am still new in this fandom!
I do not own any of the characters, no money is made by this.
So, off we go! A/N!
full summary:
1-Short. Taking place after episode 5 of season 2 "Dust and Shadows."
Alec runs out the door as soon as Jocelyn's funeral is over, fleeding that place. He runs and runs and runs, to the only place he knows he can go. And Magnus, who stands at the balcony, gazing at the streets of the city, sees his lover from afar and vows to be there for him no matter what he will have to face.
Comfort folows...
"White Shirt, dyed red..."
White. Everything were white. Unspoiled, clear, pure. The dress Clary was wearing. The long sleeved shirt that was covering Jace's long, trained hands. The fine silken piece of clothing which was falling gracefully over Izzy's neck and shoulders. Alec had to take a shallow breath, as he let his eyes take in his own shirt and trousers. He wanted to rip them apart, he couldn't stand the feeling of the soft and warm fabric on his burning skin. He moved slowly, and somehow found himself standing next to Clary. He shivered and had to close his eyes. His clothes were white as well, of course they were. White, the color of the snow. The sign of purity. The sign of Death...
White, everywhere. White, ashen cold faces, with eyes closed by someone else's hand, eyes which would never open again. Eyes, which would never again be filled with tears, which would never again shine under the first rays of sunlight on a cold winter's day. White. White were the sheets covering the dead bodies. Clary and Jace left Alec's side, moving towards the other side of the room and Alec dug his nails into his palm as he heard Clary's voice breaking as she tried to utter her mother's name, for the last time.
And all of a sudden, the white sheets were stained and their deathly, cold stillness was interrupted ever so slightly, as droplets of blood dyed them red. Red, the color of the building fire, the color of passion, of love and an indication of life. The color of the roses. Rose petals. Alec blinked, his hazel gaze hazed and blurred, eyes stinging from the unshed tears he was somehow holding back. All hands were raised in the air, and he obliged his body to move. His limps were heavy and numb, unwilling to obey his commands. But eventually, the young shadowhunter managed to lift his hands and his eyes moved upwards as well.
His shirt, white around his hand, white and cold, made his breath hitch in his throat. He allowed his eyes to fall closed for just a second, because the sight was one he couldn't bear to behold. Swallowing, Alec forced his body to remain standing. His blurry eyes opened once more, and he lowered his hands tiredly, for they were feeling heavy as if covered with led. The rest of the shadowhunters moved forwards, heading to where Jace and Clary were standing, next to Jocelyn's body. But not Alec. The young Nephilim started backtracking, his frame shaking, his breath rapid and shallow, his gaze blinded by pain, guilt and grief.
He turned his eyes on his hands again, and on the white shirt which was wrapped around them. White... But he wasn't pure, or innocent, or any of those things. He was the reason why Crary was weeping, dumping Jace's shirt with her burning tears. He was the reason she was clinging onto his parabatai to hold herself upright, as other shadowhunters offered her their condolences. He was the reason why Clary was wailing over her mother's dead body. Jocelyn's blood was on him, how could he walk to her and offer her his hand to shake, when it was still dripping of Jocelyn's blood? Alec let out a silent, pained gasp and turned around, leaving the room unnoticed, for all eyes were on Clary and Jace.
The young shadowhunter didn't know he could run so fast. Never had he yearned to flee so badly. Never had he wished for his clothes to be ripped to shreds along with his very own skin. The sound of his feet on the cold asphalt was lost, however, swallowed by the loud and sharp sounds of horns, of people talking, by the very beat of the city's heart, which was pounding endlessly and fiercely. Pounding, for the city was so very alive, filled with all kinds of sounds, laughter, whispers, loud cries, melodic singing voices...
But Alec couldn't hear them, for his mind was barely working. He shut his eyes and just kept running, ignoring the cold wind which was swirling. He kept running, ignoring the feeling that the wind was penetrating his clothes, his skin, the layers of his muscles, and could see everything, even the most well hidden secrets of his soul. No. He just ran, blindly heading to the only place he knew he would find shelter. To the only place he felt wanted and loved. To the only place, to the very one person, who could make the excruciating pain bearable.
Magnus Bane was on his balcony, his proud figure slightly hunched, his forearms leaning on the bannister which held the bars on the edge of the balcony together. His eyes were sharp, scanning the city. His black coat was keeping the wind at bay, and Magnus had turned the collar upwards as well. The various rings he always wore, were cold against the skin of his fingers, but the High Warlock of Brooklyn shook his head, casting the thought aside. He was aware that Jocelyn's funeral was held at the Institute, and every fiber of his being wished he could be there, close to Alec. But he wasn't allowed to attend, no matter how much he wanted to. Magnus let his eyes fall closed, breathing in the cold air.
Moments passed in silence, with the High Warlock of Brooklyn clenching his fingers around the banister tightly. Alec's pained face passed before the downworlder's black eyes and his broken words flooded his mind. "I killed her Magnus..." The Warlock bit his bottom lip, opening his eyes abruptly. He was aware he had lifted their glamour and he felt pulses of magic flowing through his veins. He stood straight, letting his hands fall to his sides and took in, yet another breath. The wind blew, cold and unforgiving, making the edges of Magnus' black coat flutter at its command. His golden cat-eyes took in the sight of the city which lay at his feet, for yet another time.
Standing there, with those golden, cat-eyes, with the silver rings shining under the light of the moon, with his black coat fluttering in the wind, Magnus would seem to an outsider like a king who was gazing downwards, at the land which was rightfully his to rule. And he was looking down at it indeed, down at those lights, down at the people, all those beings, who were passing by, unnoticed, and the next moment they were gone. Their life span short, for what were seventy or even ninety years for Magnus? They would pass before he could blink three times. All of those beings would sooner or later linger and die, just like Jocelyn had, and then others would take their place. That was their fate.
Magnus inwardly admired all mortal beings, for though they were rather weak and fragile and reckless, they were enjoying every moment of their short life, pushing aside the fact they all knew; that they would all eventually parish and turn into dust. It was tragic in its own right, and Magnus felt a shiver running down his spine at the thought. He let out a breath and got ready to head back inside, for the wind had become way too cold. Nothing a glass of fine whiskey couldn't fix. With this thought in his head, the High Warlock took a few steps backwards, eyes still fixed on the streets below. And that's when he saw him.
Keen golden cat- eyes, better than the hawk's, spotted the tall young man, all dressed in white, who was blindly running towards the building with his head bowed. Magnus swallowed around the lump that had all of a sudden formed in his throat and felt his magic running hot like fire in his veins. The need to protect that young man, to conceal him from all kinds of pain was rooted in the depths of Magnus' being. "Oh, my dear boy... My dear Alexander..." He muttered under his breath and before he knew it, he was rushing out the door and down the many flights of stairs, his steps light and very fast.
He knew he could just portal himself to where his young lover was, but he took those precious moments to regain his composure and to steel his nerves. He knew that what he was about to encounter would be bad and he couldn't allow his own weaknesses to get in the way. Alec was always the rock for everyone else, the one who took care of them, the one who fought their fights for them. He was strong, kind, caring, loving... But he wasn't made of steel. And now, Magnus knew he would have to be a warrior in an ugly fight. But this was about Alec, his beloved Alexander. And Magnus would always stand by his side.
He reached the door and took in a deep breath to compose himself, before pulling at the heavy, iron handle. Cold air once again hit his face and he was met with Alec's trembling figure, for the young Nephilim was ready to push at the door-handle. Both men came to an abrupt halt, their faces only inches from one another. Magnus' cat eyes widened at the sight of Alec's tear marked, ghostly pale face, his dry and blue-hued quivering lips. "Oh, Alexander..." Magnus muttered in a pained voice and his low whispers were carried away by the whistling wind. Alec stood by the threshold, frame trembling and shaking. He opened his mouth and Magnus steeled himself, ready to comply to every possible request.
But no words escaped Alec's dry lips, as a sob emerged from the depths of his throat, wrecking his frame, ravaging his fragile, wounded heart. The nephilim tried to hold himself still and locked his jaw in place, willing for the heartbreaking, foreign sound of his sobs to die in his throat. "Alexander..." Magnus muttered, taking a hold of Alec's forearms. The young man stirred and jerked visibly, pulling his hand away. "Don't! I shouldn't touch you, not with these hands, not while I..." Magnus' eyes blurred, but he blinked back the tears, tightening his hold on Alec's forearms, pulling the young Nephilim closer to him.
"Alexander, look at your arms." The Warlock offered, willing his voice to sound sure, masking the pain in it as best as he could. At first, Alec refused to oblige and Magnus knew he was still seeing blood dripping from his fingertips, dying his white shirt crimson. "Alexander, darling, do as I say." He said again, and this time, the young shadowhunter complied. "What do you see, Alexander?" He questioned, letting his own gaze travel on their entwined hands. Black and white were mixed, and Magnus' silver rings were sparkling like diamonds, looking as if they were pinned to Alec's white shirt.
The young Nephilim took in the sight of Magnus' black sleeved coat, of how the black fabric was breaking the paleness and stillness of his own white sleeved shirt. His eyes flicked on the shining rings, which he could feel cold against his inner forearm, for the layer of his shirt was thin. He could also feel Magnus' elegant fingers hooked at the flesh of his forearm and it felt to him as though those hands had pulled him out of an ocean of despair. He took in yet another, shaky breath and opened his mouth, praying to The Angel to give him strength to utter a few words. "Magnus... I- I can't, I can't-" His hold on the Warlock's forearms tightened reflexively and his face twitched in what could only be pain.
"Magnus, Magnus, I'm..." Alec shut his eyes, bowing his head, biting his bottom lip to the point of drawing blood. "Alexander, you have to let go, you must let it go, let go of the pain, let go of yourself. I'm here, by your side, I'm right here with you Alexander..." The Warlock whispered, as he pulled the boy even closer to his body and inside the building. At the sound of those words, the last boundaries the shadowhunter had built within him, crumbled and turned into dust. His body shuddered and his knees gave out on him and he would have fallen down, if it weren't for Magnus' fast reflexes. The Warlock took almost all of Alec's weight on him and lowered them both on the floor, crouching close to his lover.
Alec let go of Magnus' hands, taking a hold of the front part of his black coat instead, clenching his fingers into fists around the soft, thick fabric. The Warlock grabbed the chance and with a graceful movement of his wrist, he closed the door, before creating a portal which led directly into his bedroom. He placed his hands around Alec and tilted them to the side, so that they would fall through the portal without moving but mere inches. Only when Alec felt a soft mattress under his knees did he raise his eyes. Magnus' room was mostly dark and Alec saw that they were kneeling on the huge bed. "Magnus..." Alec croaked, shuddering, finally letting out a pained sob.
"Shh, hush, hush my darling..." Magnus heard himself pleading, holding on to the back of Alec's shirt, allowing his young lover to bury his face in his chest. "Make it stop, Magnus, by the Angel, make it stop... Please..." Alec was almost begging, albeit a part of him knew he wasn't allowed not even a moment of peace. He had killed Jocelyn, thus he deserved to feel every stab of pain. And yet, as he nestled closer to Magnus, he couldn't stop himself from uttering those words. Alec felt Magnus tremble and the iron grip around his shoulders tightened even more.
"I wish I could my dear boy, I wish I could..." Magnus muttered in Alec's hair, flinching at the amount of hurt in his lover's voice. He conjured a wave a blue magic, letting it surround them both. Warmth engulfed Alec's trembling frame, making his tense muscles relax a little. "I never meant to harm her, I never wanted-" "I know my darling, believe me, I know. This wasn't your fault Alexander." The Warlock pointed out, feeling hot tears dumping the collar of his coat. He received no answer and knew Alec wouldn't believe him, no matter how many times he would utter those words. And yet, they were they only ones he seemed to be able to utter, for what could Magnus say, that could possibly make things better?
"Let it go Alexander, I'm here..." The Warlock promised, letting his right hand linger on the center of Alec's back, a stream of blue magic emerging from the tips of his fingers. He knew he couldn't take away all of Alec's pain, only the edge of it. There was no magic in the world that could heal that kind of wounds, only the passing of time and the soft words of love and comfort Magnus himself had never heard when he had found himself in a similar situation.
"I can't, Magnus I can't breathe..." Alec rasped, making the Warlock next to him gasp."It will get easier, I promise you. In time, it will get easier Alexander. We will get through this, together. I promise you, darling." Magnus offered, kissing the top of Alec's head. "Now just focus on breathing. Just breathe with me Alexander..." He pleaded brokenly.
His words received no answer, however, as Alec only continued to weep, clenching onto Magnus, breathing in his scent, feeling the many necklaces marking his cheeks where he pressed his face in the Warlock's chest. The latter lay them both on the bed after a while, noticing how even hunched, Alec was still almost as tall as him. A faint smile momentarily appeared on his lips, but faded not a heartbeat later. Magnus let his hands caress his lover's broad back, understanding with a deep ache in his chest, that it was the only thing he could do for Alec.
Minutes turned into hours, but time had no meaning, as both shadowhunter and Warlock were clinging onto one another, lying on that bed for what could have been forever. "Magnus..." Alec croaked out hoarsely at some point and the Warlock tensed. "Yes, darling?" "You can't die-" "That's a given, Alexander." He tried to joke, but his voice sounded sadder than it had in a very long time. "You can't die on me... Please..." Magnus petted Alec's hair as he replied. "I'm right here Alexander, and here I will always be..." the Warlock reassured, cupping the Nephilim's face in his hands. Alec's tears had run out, leaving him empty and broken, filled with guilt.
They stayed silent for a long time after that, with Magnus running his fingers through Alec's hair, until the young shadowhunter finally drifted off to a restless sleep, still clenching on Magnus' coat. With a snap of his fingers, Magnus changed Alec's clothes, well aware his lover was feeling trapped within them. As soon as soft, cotton touched him, Alec relaxed more. The warlock kept stroking short black hair with his right hand, whilst with his left he took his cell phone out of his pocket. Three messages, two from Jace, one from Izzy. All three of them about Alec's whereabouts. The Warlock did a quick job replying to Jace, before tossing the phone aside.
"Please, by the Angel, Magnus tell me he is with you, the pain he feels, its too much."
Jace.
"He's with me, stay at the Institute and make sure no one comes looking for him. He already has more than his fair share of demons to fight."
M.B.
He snapped his fingers again, and a soft blanket appeared, covering Alec's slightly trembling figure. The young shadowhunter stirred and muttered Magnus' name brokenly. "Shh, shh... Sleep my darling..." The warlock whispered, moving away strands of black hair from Alec's forehead with his right hand, all the while he conjured more of his magic with his free hand. He then touched Alec's chest, allowing the pure energy enter the young man's body. Alec seemed to relax even more and sleep took him away from the cruelty of the world and into a place quiet and peaceful.
And there, Alec let himself feel free and surrendered to that beautiful, warm, familiar voice, which he could hear singing lowly to him, from somewhere far away.
And the song, sung...
"The moon speaks faintly,
In a voice audible to no one.
The repeating and falling o the tides,
are the scene of the moon's vanishing memory.
The stars record arcanely
in a script decipherable to no one.
From the swirls of infinite words,
billions of books are born.
To me, the sky is too vast,
And time is too swift.
Without knowing anything,
I am gathering words in vein,
which will only end up rotting in the earth.
Yet, still I will clamor.
Not even knowing why, I will raise my voice.
May my echo continue up, into the celestial space.
Then, a new sun will eventually rise as well...
The despicable darkness answered me,
Saying that no one has ever seen the future.
I reach my hands into the empty sky,
And grab the cold wind.
Oh, despair, blow through me!
Then all dreams and agonies will become the past
In the faint twilight above the earth,
I walk forwards
Towards the tomorrow no one has yet seen..."
And Alec slept, allowing that voice to take him along on a strange journey, where everything were still, and there was no pain, sadness and grief... And Magnus sang, with his eyes closed and his hands around Alec, until the first rays of the sun lighted up the city. And then, Magnus sang some more, because there was still a little time left... Yes, Magnus kept singing, well aware that as soon as his voice would fade, so would Alec's peaceful dreams... No, he would give him a little bit more time.
It was in the moment that the sun lighted up his tired face, that Magnus placed a kiss on Alec's lips and wished he had the power to stop time. But try as he might, he couldn't do that. And so it was, that Alec opened his eyes not a moment later, finding himself on Magnus' bed, with the Warlock hovering above him. "Alexander-" "Sing to me, please... Just one more time." Alec pleaded and leaned into Magnus' tender touch. "Always, always my beloved Alexander..." Magnus muttered, as he resumed his task. Yes, the sun had risen. But it was still low in the sky. They had time for one last song...
And so, Magnus sang...
THE END...
A/N! So, here it ends!
Did you like it?
I would love to hear your thoughts!
The song Magnus sings, is taken from the anime called "Dantalian no shoka" and the song's name is "Tomorrow is never known"
Here is where I got the lyrics from:
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Until next time,
Love you all,
Usagi! A/N!
