Max was terribly anxious to meet with his brother, Rafael, at the Institute. The last time they had seen each other had been at their father's funeral. Alec had died unexpectedly from an injury he had sustained after being ambushed while on a supposedly routine mission. It wasn't as though they hadn't been prepared for it. Max and Rafael had been preparing themselves for years. After all, they had been taught at a young age that they would lose their dad far too soon.
Somehow, Max found himself dealing with his father's death much better than he had imagined. Of course, it was the hardest thing he'd ever gone through, but he'd imagined that he wouldn't have been able to function after losing his dad. He was doing much better than he'd ever though he would, but that might have had something to do with the fact that most of his time was being taken up over worrying about his papa. Max hardly had time to register his own pain before he was consumed by his papa's pain.
This was the very reason that Max had asked Rafael to meet with him. He had no idea what to do to help their papa, but with every day, he was becoming increasingly worried. As soon as their dad had died, their Uncle Jace had told them to just give their papa some time, that he would begin to get better with every day that passed. But what seemed to be happening was the complete opposite, and Max couldn't seem to take his mind off of the possibilities. Rafael had already moved out on his own, so Max was left to wonder about their papa and try to pick up the pieces by himself, which was something he no longer felt he could do.
"Max, is something wrong?" Rafael immediately embraced his brother, but he couldn't keep himself from asking the question before they had pulled apart. Max supposed that he should have told Rafael to not worry, that Rafael would have immediately jumped to the conclusion that Max was asking to see him because something else had gone wrong.
Sitting back down, Max tried to think of the best way to phrase everything that he wanted to say, but there seemed to be no easy way to do so. "Honestly, Rafe, I don't know," Max said, hearing the pain in his own voice. He'd work to keep himself so carefully composed around his papa, and now he could feel that composure and that self-control breaking down. The thing that didn't help him at all was the fact that when he said "Rafe," Rafael's face momentarily twisted in pain. Their dad had been the one to being calling him that, and Max could see that the name caused a flood of emotions.
He couldn't really blame Rafael for that. The first time his aunt Isabelle had lovingly called him "Blueberry," Max had screamed at her to never call him that again. Instead of acknowledging Rafael's reaction, Max simply continued. "I'm very concerned about Papa," he said, unable to meet Rafael's eyes. "I know he's going through a lot, but he seems to be getting much worse every day. He's hardly eating or sleeping or even moving, he's wearing white constantly, he's not taking care of himself. Rafael, he should be getting better, even if just a bit. But he's getting worse, and I don't know what to do."
Rafael considered this for several moments before responding, and Max could see that his brother had likely predicted what he was going to say. "Let me be very clear here, Max," Rafael began, his voice obviously controlled. "You're worried about losing Papa, too, aren't you?" The only thing Max could find in himself to do was nod, his eyes still trained on his feet.
When Max refused to speak up, Rafael continued, driven by a newfound concern for the rest of the family he had left. "Max, Papa promised us that he would stay with us. I understand that he's hurting, but he's always been a man of his word. You know that as well as I do. He wouldn't possibly leave us now." Somehow, what Rafael was saying didn't seem to comfort him at all. In fact, what Rafe was saying seemed to be doing quite the opposite. His brother didn't seem to be nearly as concerned as he should have been, and all that was doing was angering Max.
"Were you even listening to me, Rafael? Do you even care about Papa at all?" Max was trying to keep his voice below a scream, but he was having a lot of trouble doing so. "We have to figure out how to help him before things get out of hand. I cannot lose him, too, Rafe. I simply can't."
For a few moments, Rafael simply stared back at Max, obviously assessing the situation and trying to figure out exactly what he needed to do. "If you're that worried about him, then talk to him about it. Don't just hide your worries from him. If you think there's anything we need to do, then you let me know what it is, and I'll help you do it. But, Max, don't make this more painful than it needs to be. I miss Dad, too, but nothing in this world can bring him back, and Papa knows that. That's why he's hurting. I love you, Max, and you know I'm here if you need anything."
Since Max didn't know what more to do, he decided to spend a bit more time with Rafael, knowing that he needed his brother now more than ever. But leaving the Institute, he resolved to do whatever he needed to do in order to help his Papa heal.
Magnus was terribly anxious over his meeting with Catarina. And he knew that he had a perfectly good reason for that. What he was about to ask Catarina to do for him was likely going to make her wonderfully angry. Not to mention what it might do to Max and Rafael. But at this point, Magnus couldn't stop to think about what he was doing.
He was currently curled up on the couch, the Chairman wrapped in his arms, the only source of comfort he had found in weeks. Sure, he had Max and Rafael, but he could easily tell that they were experiencing so much pain of their own that he hadn't wanted to bother them with his suffering. More than anything, Magnus simply wanted relief. What he truly wanted was Alec, but since that was impossible, he supposed that he would have to settle for relief.
The problem was not that he wasn't content with life itself. It was that he was no longer content with a life without Alec. And he didn't care how many times people told him that time would heal his wounds. It seemed that the longer he went on without Alec, the more broken he became. He knew that asking Catarina for the help he wanted would likely turn his world even further upside down than it already was, but it was something he knew he had to do.
"Magnus," Catarina said as soon as she walked through the door, her voice frantic. "Is there something wrong? Is Max okay?" She was looking around the apartment, obviously jumping to the worst conclusion possible. Magnus motioned for her to sit down, hoping to calm her down while he still could.
"This isn't about either of the boys, Catarina," he said, sitting down across from her, trying to keep himself calm as well, hoping that he could get through his request without breaking down. "But I wouldn't say that everything is fine," he said after a long pause. "When Alec died, you told me you would do whatever I asked of you if it would help me heal."
Magnus didn't get to say anything other than that before Catarina began connecting the dots. "Magnus," she said with a warning tone. "I know I told you that I would do anything you needed, but I will not help you do anything that will harm you in any way." Her tone was final, but Magnus thought that he might be able to convince her of exactly what he wanted to do.
Instead of responding immediately, Magnus remained silent, knowing that Catarina would continue to talk if he did so. After continuing to stare at Magnus for several moments, Catarina reacted the exact way Magnus knew she would. "I have the feeling I know what you're thinking of, Magnus, and I only have one thing to ask. Why?"
Somehow, Magnus had known she was going to ask that, and he tried for hours to prepare himself for that particular question. Yet here was, still searching for an answer. "At first, the pain was bearable," Magnus began, hoping that he could sort through his thoughts and emotions. "But I think that was because it hadn't really sunk in that Alec was really gone. Every night, I go to sleep telling myself that things will be better when I wake up. And yet, every morning, I wake up to the reality that Alexander is not by my side. With every day, it sinks in more and more that I will never wake up to see the love of my life lying right beside of me."
Magnus paused and closed his eyes for a few moments, knowing that if he stopped now, he would never be able to continue again. "I lived for four hundred years, Catarina, and I have no trouble or doubt in saying that Alec was the love of my life. I thought I had prepared myself for his death, but I know now that I will never heal from it. I love my sons, do not get me wrong. They are my world; you know that as well as I do. But I feel as though they are both strong enough to get through absolutely anything life hands them."
The only thing that kept Magnus from looking at Catarina was the thought of what expression she might be looking at him with. He didn't want pity, he didn't want to see her pain, he had enough of that on his own. Eventually, the only thing that Catarina said was, "What do you want me to do?" her voice soft enough to show Magnus that what he had said had made a bit of headway.
Magnus took several more moments to compose himself. His composure was slipping very quickly, and he knew he had to get through the next sentence before he could allow himself to break down in front of Catarina. It was the absolute last thing he wanted to do, but Magnus knew it was going to be unavoidable in the end, so he dove into his request in the only way that he knew how. "I would like you to help me take away my immortality."