Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
Hey guys! I know I should be woking on The Royals, but this fic just couldn't get out of my head and I knew I wouldn't be able to continue with The Royals unless I wrote this and I did! It is a Malec fic based off of American Horror Story: Freak Show. You don't have to watch the show to read this, but if you did it might give you a better mental image:)
I am only making up one character in this and she will be introduced soon! All the rest are from The Mortal Instruments, The Infernal Devices, and The Dark Artifices. I am in love with this idea and am really getting into this one :D
Some of you might be confused as to what a freak show is, so I'll explain it:) It is something that happened in the past where a bunch of people with different syndromes or diseases all came together and because they looked different than most, people paid to see them perform.
If you want a better mental image of Alec's lobster hands just search "Jimmy Darling Lobster Boy" in Google images. His hands are what I imagined for Alec:) And like every disease or syndrome in this story, it is real. It is called Ectrodactyly:)
Anyway, on with the story!
Welcome to the Freak Show
1952
Alexander Lightwood was sitting on a sidewalk in the pouring rain. His old jacket and ratty jeans were soaked, chilling him to the bone. He had on a brown flat cap that kept the rain out of his eyes, but it didn't help with seeing through the horrid weather.
All he could do was sit there until the rain stopped enough to let him see where he can go for shelter that night. He held his bag tight, hoping that his belongings wouldn't be ruined by the rainstorm.
He squinted as he saw the distorted blur of a person walking down the street. Alec immediately scooted to the side to get out of the person's way, but the figure crouched down in front of him. The person was holding an obnoxious bright red umbrella that they pulled over Alec's head.
Alec was frightened. He had no idea who this person was and why they were in his face. He closed his eyes as anxiety caught in his throat. He was preparing for this person to mock him, or steal something of his, or just simply beat him up. However, a wet hand stroked his face, compelling Alec to open his bright blue eyes.
He was face-to-face with a young woman. She had her brown hair pulled back into a tousled bun and her dazzling brown eyes peered into Alec's with motherly affection.
"I'm Charlotte Branwell," he heard a sweet voice say rather loudly. "I know where you can find shelter."
Alec was shocked by this woman's kindness to a filthy teenager like him. He hadn't had a haircut in years, and never got the chance to shave. He looked and smelled atrocious having not found a stream to shower in for a week or so. Along with his dirty, mismatched mittens he never took off, he was the last person anyone would truly care for.
Miss Branwell took his stunned expression for a "yes," for she grabbed his gloved hand and helped him stand. She held the umbrella higher so Alec could stand under it. Alec must have been a whole foot taller than Miss Branwell, but she graciously kept the red umbrella up. He grabbed the umbrella to help her and she smiled warmly up at him. They walked for a couple of blocks until they were in front of a large structure that was being built. They hurried under the construction site. There was metal above them to keep up the new walls and could offer them protection from the freezing rain.
Alec sat under it, leaning up against a metal pole and taking off his hat. Miss Branwell did the same across from him, laying out her beautiful black dress carefully on her lap. The two were close enough to hear each other over the thudding raindrops. Miss Branwell seemed to realize this, for she started up a conversation.
"What is your name?"
Alec cleared his throat, afraid his voice would croak. He hadn't used it in a while. "Alexander Lightwood, ma'am."
Miss Branwell swatted the air and scoffed. "Charlotte is fine. So do you go by anything for short?"
"I go by Alec," he said shakily, for he was remembering all of the times his name had been said by those he loved. Now they were all off with their own lives. And he was sitting in the rain... Forgotten.
Charlotte nodded. "Well, Alec, I've been watching you for a while now." Alec was hit with a wave of fear. "And I have come to notice those brilliant hands you are so intended on hiding."
Charlotte was eyeing his mittens, and Alec silently tucked them behind him and looked at the concrete below him.
"Don't get all shy on me now," Charlotte said jokingly. "I'm not here to mock you. I'm here because I can offer you a home."
Alec looked up hopefully. However he knew it was foolish to hope, so he questioned Charlotte instead. "What home are you offering exactly?"
"Me and my husband, Henry, run a freak show: Branwell's Show of Human Oddities. I was walking along this path the other day and I saw you. You were just putting on your mittens and I saw those brilliantly monstrous hands that lie beneath that cloth. I also know that you are in need of a home- a family- and I happen to be able to provide one."
Great. Alec was hoping. But maybe just this once he should trust his faith. "What do you want me to do?"
Charlotte straightened her spine, her voice growing more confident as the excitement settled in. "All you have to do is perform every weekend in our freak show. Those hands will bring in a lot of cash, you have no idea how much people will pay to see those. Soon you will cherish them, I promise. Plus, my monsters will love your hands, just like you will love their peculiarities. We have a family back at the show. And Alec," he looked up, "I really want you to be a part of it."
Alec contemplated it for a moment. These monsters, as Charlotte calls them, are just like him. Rejects, misfits, freaks. Somehow, the word didn't sting like it used to. Charlotte gave him another tender smile, and he realized that nothing could go wrong. He would be happy. He would finally have a family.
So Alec gratefully accepted Charlotte's offer. Then they both waited until the rain cleared to go find the camp of Branwell's Show of Human Oddities.
The pounding of the rain stopped suddenly as the sun came out. Charlotte grabbed Alec's gloved hand and they started to walk down the path until it led them to the right. Suddenly, Charlotte trailed off of the sidewalk and walked through the wet grass until they were on a hill that when you waked down, came to a clearing. The clearing was covered by various tents and trailers of all shapes and sizes. One tent held food, another held a tiny salon, and one was a little library. As Charlotte led Alec down the hill and to the entrance of the show, Alec caught some brightly painted words on one of the trailers:
Strongman! See the amazing Will Herondale in person!
"You will get a trailer too," Charlotte said, snapping Alec out of his daze. He realized he had been staring at the words. "You might have to share it with Tessa. I'll try to find an empty one."
"Oh, no, you don't have to do that. I'm fine sharing a trailer." It would be nice to just have a place to stay, Alec thought.
Charlotte ignored his protests and continued dragging him down the hill. Alec noticed that there were banners leading to the huge tent that was the entrance. There was a small ticket booth out in front of a gigantic face of a devil-like creature. It's mouth was open wide, leading into the tent with a set of fangs above it. It was a mix of yellow, blue, and red, all symmetrically placed on the face. The creatures eyes were small and the pupils were facing outwards. Two horns were placed on either side of its head, and with the signs surrounding it it might have been the scariest thing Alec has ever seen.
He was led to it and looked on either side of him in awe. Charlotte was moving too fast for him to properly look at the high-strung banners, but he caught glimpses of the different people painted on each poster with their stage name on the bottom. One that stood out to him was a painting of a young woman with a small book in her hands and her grey eyes seemed as if they were devouring the pages. On the top of the banner was her name, Tessa Gray, and on the bottom was her stage name, Brainiac. He remembered that this was the girl he might be sharing a trailer with.
The banner closest to the scary entrance was one of Magnus Bane, Catman. He had his shirt off, and appeared to not have a belly-button on his smooth, tan lower belly. His hands were out to the side as if sparks were going to shoot out of his fingertips. This was not what captivated Alec the most, that was his eyes. They were a mix of an intoxicating green and gold that etched itself into Alec's brain. Magnus Bane's pupils were unlike most, they were slits. No wonder his stage name was Catman. Alec couldn't help but hope he got to see these amazing eyes and sexy smirk the painted man was wearing in person, but almost wished he didn't. For if he did he would not be able to get out a coherent sentence.
He was led into the mouth of the frightening entrance and came out the other side in a red and white striped tent. Chairs were placed in rows and a stage was in the front. Charlotte hauled him to the far right corner of the tent and moved the fabric, leading him into camp.
Alec was hit with a wave of extravagant colors. They were coming from all directions and he somehow couldn't help but smile. The trailers had bright orange and red and blue writing on them, and the tents were bright pink and red and sometimes just pure white. It looked so chaotic, but it somehow all made sense in Alec's mind.
"Alec, honey," Charlotte said next to him. He looked down into her shining eyes. "You can take off your gloves now."
Alec was shocked. He shouldn't, or should he? What if they-
"Eh, Lottie, is that the kid you've been going on about?" Alec heard someone say to his right.
Charlotte let go of his hand to search for the person speaking. Then, a man in a wheelchair used his arms to push the wheels forward so he could be seen. He had fiery red hair that was sticking up in odd places and hazel eyes that were wide with astonishment. He had a blanket over his legs and he was wearing a brown blazer with a white undershirt. He wore a wide smile as he wheeled closer to them.
"Alec, this is my husband, Henry. Henry, this is Alec," Charlotte introduced.
Henry extended his hand. Alec hesitated, but obliged. Henry furrowed his eyebrows at Alec's mitten.
"What do you need to cover your hands for?" Henry said in a joking tone. "It's Florida for heaven's sake!"
Charlotte glared at him. Henry's mouth formed an "o" shape and his eyes lit up in recognition.
Alec felt a pang of sadness. That was the face people made when they realized what monstrosity was hidden under his gloves. It was always that face. The face of pity and slight repugnance. Toward him, and toward his hands.
"You don't have to hide them." Alec looked toward Henry. "Your hands, I mean."
Charlotte scoffed. "Says the man with the blanket over his nonexistent legs."
Alec expected Henry to get offended, but instead he laughed it off and released Alec's hand to pick up the blanket. He had on dress pants, but they were tied into knots about halfway down his thigh. Alec understood that Henry didn't have legs. He was just like him, a freak.
Charlotte started toward Henry's chair and kissed him on the cheek. That was when Alec unraveled what their relationship truly was about: Acceptance. Henry didn't get offended because he knew Charlotte just wanted him to accept himself. And he did.
Alec wanted to pretend he didn't crave that kind of romance. A romance of acceptance and just being your pure selves, but he would never have that. At least not with the person he wanted.
"We can show you around camp and introduce you to the family," Charlotte offered.
"Eh, Lottie, we should let him get out of his wet clothes first. And you too."
"Oh yeah," Charlotte said, looking down at her damp clothes. Alec completely forgot about the way he looked for just a moment. How gross and unfriendly, how soaked he was. Maybe this place was starting to get to him already.
Another flash of red caught Alec's eye. It was a teenage girl heading toward the tent closest to them. She had a freckled face, wild green eyes, and red, curly hair. She was a lot shorter than Alec, and it made him want to pick her up for some odd reason. She was wearing blue jeans and a bright green top.
Charlotte noticed Alec staring and called the girl over. "Hey Clary, come over here!"
The girl- Clary- saw the three of them and her eyes widened upon seeing Alec. She walked over to where they were and stood in front of Alec.
"Clary Fray," she introduced herself. Then she laughed. For a moment Alec thought she was laughing at him, but he was proven wrong. "How are you so tall?"
Alec smiled. It was the first time in months. He couldn't help but like this girl.
"How are you so short?" he remarked. Then the two of them stood there sniggering like children, and like old friends.
Clary and Alec at the same time noticed Henry and Charlotte watching them with adoration.
"Do you mind giving Alec some new clothes?" Charlotte asked Clary. "And showing him around?"
Clary smiled. "Of course I will. You're family, right?"
Alec felt warm all over. He finally had a home. He finally had a family. And so far, he happened to like them. Things were starting to look up and Alec couldn't have been happier.
"Right," he agreed.
She eyed his gloved hands, but Alec didn't feel defensive. He felt contempt with them. Lucky for him, she didn't comment. Clary stepped toward Henry and whispered something Alec couldn't hear. Henry nodded and Clary started walking, motioning Alec to follow her.
Alec fell a step behind Clary as she led him to a white medium-sized tent closest to them. Clary moved the tent flap aside and stepped into the opening. Alec followed her and was surprised by what she saw inside. The tent was filled with lights and loads of color.
"Is this an art studio?" Alec asked, seeing the canvases and vast supplies of paint.
"Yup," Clary answered, turning toward him. "My mom and I are artists. And the fortune tellers of the group."
Alec's eyebrows soared. "Fortune tellers?"
Clary grinned smugly. "You bet. Anyway, I'm going to let you get dressed and situated first, then I'll show you around."
Man, this girl was bossy. Alec knew he should be annoyed by it, but he couldn't bring himself to be. Clary was one of the first friendly faces he'd seen in a long time.
She moved swiftly toward a cabinet, and grabbed out a few things. She started back toward Alec.
"I know why Charlotte brought you here," she said casually.
Alec's heart lurched in panic. "Why do you think?"
"Your hands," she spoke lightly. "I can't wait to see them."
"So you can mock them?" Alec snapped. He silently scolded himself for losing his temper. It wasn't something that happened often.
Clary looked offended. "No, no, of course not! So I can paint them. Well, and paint you."
Alec was confused. Why would Clary want to paint his degenerate hands? He was told at a very young age that he needed to hide his hands. A monstrosity like that was never going to be treasured. He was always going to be looked down on. They were grotesque and terrible and no one was ever going to want to interact with a monster. Because that's what he was: A monster. This young girl wanted to paint a monster? Not likely. She wanted to paint someone beautiful, and she was deluding herself if she thought his hands reached that level. Once she saw them, she would surely understand what thing was standing in her home.
Clary somehow picked up on his upsetting thoughts. "You might not know it, but I'm not scared to see your hands."
Yeah right, Alec thought.
"Plus, if you are going to make a home here, you will have to show us your good sides along with the bad. Because we will accept both. We are a family, and families accept each other. I promise to accept you."
Alec looked up into her sympathetic green eyes. "I just-" he sighed, "I just don't want everyone to see them. They- my hands- aren't what you expect them to be."
Clary set the clothes down on the floor. She grabbed Alec's hands and held them out in front of him. "I don't expect anything of them, or you. But you, Alec, are probably one of the most beautiful people I've ever seen." Alec blushed deeply. "I say that with sisterly affection, I promise. You don't have to show me your hands, but I would love to see them. I understand you more than you think. I know you are convinced that you're a monster and a freak, but that is what we embrace here. If you are considered a freak, you're one of the guys." Alec looked at her thoughtfully. "You know the performers actually make fun of me. Affectionately, of course, because I'm considered 'normal.' We have people who aren't freaks, too. Charlotte and Henry honestly take anyone who doesn't have a home. Most of them happen to be freaks. But Charlotte refers to us all as her monsters, and her freaks, normal or not, because that is what we all are. Rejects. We are all one, and that makes us family. So I beg you, please embrace your differences. Please."
Slow clapping and a crunching sound was heard behind them. Clary frowned as Alec turned toward the sound. It was a teenage boy wearing a black sweatshirt and dark jeans. He had dark brown hair that covered his forehead and brown eyes hidden behind glasses. He had a bag of chips in his hand.
"Amazing speech, Clary. But dude," he looked at Alec's hands. "I really want to see those things. I ran into Charlotte and she has been going on and on and on and on-"
"Excuse my dimwitted friend, Simon." Alec turned back to Clary. "He is the magician, or The Magister." Clary rolled her eyes.
"Says The Oracle."
Clary's jaw dropped. "My mother made my stage name. At least I didn't make my own."
Simon scoffed. "It's a good stage name." His attention turned back to Alec. "What's your name?"
"Alec," he said.
"Hmm, not a very impressive stage name." This kid was infuriating. "Why are you wet?"
Clary cut in. "It's called precipitation, Si."
Simon thought for a moment. "Oh yeah, it was raining. So you are the new kid?"
Alec nodded, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
Clary reached down and picked up the thing she got earlier. She put them in Alec's hands. He looked down and realized they were new clothes.
Clary directed him to walk behind an extra tarp that was hung in the corner for privacy. He did as she asked and came to a washroom. There was a hose on the floor, and a mirror in one corner, and a little bench in the other. Alec took off his brown bag and set it on the bench. Then went his shoes, and finally, his gloves.
He stared down at his repulsive hands. Technically, Alec had three fingers. His pointer and middle finger were connected to form one abnormally long one, and his third and fourth fingers did the same. Even his thumb was weirdly larger and longer than most. Both hands were like this, and it disgusted him. He remembered when he was younger and asked "why him?" Out of everyone on this Earth, it was him who got these hands. Soon the self pity turned into anger, and the anger turned to defensiveness. And with his constant defensive state, came the fierce protective nature he had toward his siblings. Isabelle and Jace Lightwood. He hadn't seen their faces for five years now and he missed them every day.
But what he ended up doing was for the best. When his parents died, he became even more protective (if it was possible), and he made the ultimate sacrifice. He ordained his fate to the worst, making theirs better. He decided that a life without their monster of a brother was the best life for them. Well, the decision was kind of made for him, but he could have taken them someplace different, somewhere that would take someone like him. But he didn't, he lived on the streets so his brother and sister could have the best life possible. And he would do it again.
He set the gloves down and took off his damp and filthy clothes. He rinsed himself quickly, scrubbing himself of the dirt from the streets. He dried himself off with a towel that was near the mirror, and put on the clothes Clary gave him. It was a pair of dark jeans and a black, fitted shirt that made his abs painfully obvious. He promised himself one thing while living in some of the worst conditions possible: To look the best he could to make up for his hands. Maybe if he exercised, ate as well as he could, and at least tried to keep his appearance up he would be treated normally. However, even living as he did he wasn't treated normally by the other street rats. They all knew him as the one with the "condition." He soon came to terms that he would have to go through it alone, and that he wouldn't have a little tribe like all the other kids seemed to have. He had always played alone anyway.
He walked over and crouched to where the mirror was hung. There was a razor on the floor and shaving cream for him to take care of his scruffle. He put shaving cream all over the bottom half of his face and used the razor and hose water to rid himself of his awful appearance. He was taught by his father how to shave. Way before he actually needed to, but it was one of Alec's only good memories of him. So the information stuck in his mind, even though he didn't have any use for it.
After he shaved, he looked at himself in the mirror. Sure, he caught glimpses of himself in windows sometimes, but he barely ever got to see himself in an actual mirror. His jawline has sharpened intensely from the last time he saw it, and his cheekbones have become defined. His hair got longer, and his face altogether looked older. But his face had nothing on his eyes. His baby blue eyes looked so experienced, so thoughtful, and so aged. For a seventeen-year-old, Alec had definitely seen a lot more than most.
He folded his old clothes neatly and put on his old tennis shoes. Collecting his bag and clothes, he stepped out back in the tent.
Clary was now sitting in a chair across from Simon with a mug in her hands. She stood up when she saw Alec and set her mug down. Simon followed suit.
"Are you ready to see the camp?" she asked.
Alec felt like something was off, but couldn't tell what it was. Then he remembered he forgot to put his gloves back on. He felt panic rise up and he looked down at his hands.
"Dude, those are awesome." No surprise that it was Simon talking. "I mean seriously, they're wicked cool."
"Wicked cool?" Clary asked Simon with a smile. "And I do love them by the way. No disappointment at all."
Alec stifled his feeling of panic and decided to face his anxiety. He trusted Clary, and somewhat trusted Simon.
He opened his bag and put his wet clothes and gloves in a pocket of the bag, then he smiled up at both of them.
"I'm good to go, I guess."
"Great! Charlotte came in here quickly and told me that you'll be sharing a trailer with Tessa. I have a feeling you two will get along."
They stepped out of the tent and continued along the path or different colors of tents with Clary commenting throughout the way.
"Here is where Helen, Mark, Julian, and Emma cook all of our meals. They are excellent cooks," she said as they came to what look like a kitchen tent. It had a refrigerator, stove, and a pantry full of food.
They passed a hair salon. "This is where Magnus does hair."
Magnus. Magnus Bane, Catman. Those intoxicating green and gold eyes suddenly were all he could think about as he blindly followed Clary. He couldn't say he really didn't want to meet him. And he didn't care if he didn't get out a coherent sentence. It would be worth it if he could see the owner of those eyes in person.
Little did Alec know, he was being carefully observed by those captivating eyes just a few tents over.
I know a lot of you might disagree that Clary should have been the one to introduce him into the camp, but I think it is fitting dn I've always imagined them forming a friendship:) Their friendship will go through some rough patches in later chapters but I've just always liked the combination of them:)
Please leave a review so I know what you guys are thinking:)
