Maelstrom
Alec can't move.
He can feel the pressure around him continuing to build and it is becoming difficult to breathe. He has no idea what is happening.
Just a second ago he was falling asleep in his bed at the Institute - he was right at that point where everything feels soft, where wakefulness and sleep become indistinguishable and his mind had happily started drifting towards images of a certain warlock - when suddenly his instincts had flared.
Someone was in his room. Someone or something with malicious intent was standing in his room.
The immediate shot of adrenaline had sent his heart racing. But it wasn't followed by his usual uncompromising alertness. No, he had remained stuck in that place right before sleep, unable to move, to yell, to do anything.
He still can't move.
No matter how hard he tries, he can't rouse his body enough to get control over his muscles. And the pressure around is building and building and building and suddenly everything physical just seems to vanish. He can't feel the mattress below him or the covers or even the pillow under his cheek. It feels like he is floating in free space. And the only thing he can feel is that damn pressure making it difficult to breathe.
He still can't move.
Alec hates being helpless.
His entire life has been dedicated to training himself to always be ready, always be stronger, always there, always able. Always the best. Because being helpless means people die.
At least that same training also keeps him from panicking right now. He has long since trained himself out of any reaction based on fear. Even right now, helpless, unable to move and his vision starting to grow blurry from lack of oxygen, he doesn't panic. Instead he focuses everything on trying to resist that pressure, to get his muscles to move, his lungs to take in air, anything.
But he still can't move.
The pressure is still continuing to build. It has long since reached a painful level, not to even mention his lungs which are starting to truly strain.
And Alec can already feel the effect. Even without being able to move he can feel his muscles growing lethargic, his vision is blurring and even his heart is starting to slow.
Well, damn.
He can't help a certain level of annoyance at the thought that this is really not how he imagined dying, suffocating because he simply can't get his lungs to work. What a ridiculous way to go for someone who fights demons for a living.
But he knows his body well enough to realize that he won't have much longer before he won't be able to stay conscious, much less actively fight against whatever is trying to suffocate him.
And abruptly, there is something else, something beyond that pressure.
Something is suddenly almost roughly pulling, pushing, yanking at him. It feels like a hook has been wedged right behind his sternum and now someone is pulling with all their strength.
It hurts. Much more than even the pressure currently suffocating him.
But whatever is pulling at him also doesn't feel malicious at all. It almost feels familiar. It feels like Magnus.
With a jolt - and despite his fading consciousness - Alec is reminded of a few days ago, lying in bed with Magnus that morning after their first night together.
Magnus had been leaning over him - his lips still swollen from kissing Alec fully awake - laughing as he drew a strange symbol on Alec's sternum, clearly delighted at the fact that Alec wasn't able to string so much as a sentence together after being kissed so thoroughly.
For protection, my darling. An anchor.
Alec hadn't been paying attention to the warlock's explanation at all, unfairly distracted by the sight of Magnus' eyes crinkled in laughter.
Another jolt of pain reminds Alec that he really has more important things to focus on right now than reminiscing about just how absurdly hot Magnus looks when ruffled from sleep.
The pull behind his sternum - right where Magnus drew that symbol - is increasing.
Alec doesn't know what this is or what it is trying to do - it's clearly doing something - but he also doesn't care.
Because in contrast to the now almost unbearable pressure around him, that pull is Magnus' magic. And Alec has always trusted in that, even before he even quite knew why.
So, without hesitation he focuses on that pull, focuses everything in him on that piece of Magnus' magic.
Something strains. A fissure, like fabric tearing. And suddenly with a last, unbearable swell - as though desperately trying to keep a hold of him - the pressure releases.
Alec crashes to a hard floor. He can move again.
Air rushes out of his lungs, before he is desperately gasping for breath, even as he is already forcing his legs to start moving, to get him upright. Because whatever just happened, Alec is going to make whoever is responsible for it pay.
He manages to get upright, only to promptly start coughing as his lungs continue to protest.
His vision is still blurry. He can see someone standing just a few steps away from him off to the side, but forcing his protesting muscles to keep him standing is apparently sapping the last of Alec's strength.
Thankfully, whoever is in the room with him isn't moving from their spot either - neither forcing Alec to defend himself by coming closer nor forcing him to chase them by leaving.
It takes Alec much longer than he would like to regain full control over his body. He continually blinks his eyes, trying to clear his vision.
Finally, he looks up.
And Alec registers several things at once.
First, he is not in his room at the Institute anymore.
Second, Magnus is standing right in front of him, just a few steps away, his eyebrows raised in a clear question.
His immediate relief at seeing the warlock - everything always seems a little brighter with the warlock around, not to even mention that nothing makes him feel as safe as Magnus' presence - is promptly followed by apprehension.
Because the warlock is just standing there, clearly waiting for him to regain control of himself. While Alec is pretty much gasping for breath.
Magnus would never just stand there watching as Alec struggles to breathe. His warlock is the biggest mother hen Alec has ever met.
His confusion isn't alleviated in any way when Magnus - as soon as Alec is able to focus on him fully - opens his mouth to ask a question.
In what sounds like French.
The fuck?
xxx
Magnus raises his eyebrows expectantly, as the Shadowhunter just continues to stare at him.
Not that Magnus is complaining about being stared at by this particularly fine specimen of Nephilim breeding. He is quite sure he has never found the sight of runes as breathtakingly beautiful as he does right now.
But back to the problem at hand. Something just pretty much flung a random Shadowhunter past his wards into his living room.
Magnus is intrigued.
His interest only increases at seeing immediate relief spreading over the Shadowhunter's face once he sees Magnus standing there.
That is definitely not a reaction I am used to, he thinks almost cheerfully.
But at Magnus' cordial greeting and polite question just what business the Shadowhunter might have in his living room, that relief is promptly taken over by confusion.
His question remains unanswered.
Magnus just tilts his head and waits.
Finally, his visitor seems to get a grip of himself as he straightens and asks somewhat cautiously, "Magnus? What is happening?"
So he can speak. Although, in English. And apparently Tall-Dark-And-Handsome knows him on a first name basis from somewhere, despite Magnus never having seen him before - he never forgets a face and definitely never one that beautiful.
But the explanation for this particular conundrum most likely lies with the time magic still saturating the air around them.
Magnus almost feels giddy. He has never met a timetraveler before.
However, this is also a Shadowhunter. And Shadowhunters have never been known to be particularly kind if something doesn't go their way or if they suspect foulplay from Downworlders.
So, best to test the waters first, before I try convincing him that I had nothing to do with his dislocation in time.
"I fear you have me at a disadvantage, Shadowhunter. I cannot seem to recall us being formally introduced."
Something flashes across the guy's face. It almost looks like hurt, although there is certainly a healthy dose of suspicion and irritation thrown in as well.
"This really isn't funny, Magnus." The Shadowhunter almost growls out.
Well, he certainly has the brooding heart-throb deal down pat.
"Seeing as you just forced yourself past my wards unannounced, I would certainly agree. Which, however, doesn't change the fact that I have no idea who you are. Especially, considering the fact that I generally tend to avoid the Clave."
The scowl on the Shadowhunter's face is honestly impressive. But Magnus can also see the growing uncertainty lurking in his eyes. His next response comes much more carefully, though the frown remains.
"The Clave? I'm not from the Clave, Magnus. I'm from the New York Institute."
Huh. The Shadowhunter almost sounds offended at being lumped in with the Clave. How truly intriguing.
Still, Magnus keeps up an only vaguely interested facade. "Excuse me, the what now?"
"I'm Head of the New York Institute." The Shadowhunter's frustration is clearly growing.
Magnus spreads his hands in an 'I'm clueless, don't blame me' guesture. "My dear Shadowhunter, I'm sorry to say that I have no idea where that would even be located."
Now, the Shadowhunter looks honestly stumped. Then he recovers with a scoff, almost rolling his eyes.
"Right. You don't know me. You don't know New York. Am I to assume that you have also suddenly forgotten about being the High Warlock of Brooklyn, then?"
It's asked with an almost impressive amount of sarcasm. Which just isn't fair. Magnus has always been a sucker for that particular brand of humor.
But he also can't help his surprise at what has just been revealed. Him, a High Warlock? Well, well, well, he certainly has quite the career ahead of him, he thinks gleefully.
"Hm. You are quite right. Where would I find this Brooklyn then?"
"In the US. Magnus, come one. Just stop it. This isn't as funny as you think it is."
The Shadowhunter's frustration is clearly building and Magnus will have to let him in on the nature of the magic that sent him to Magnus' living room soon - or he might risk being run through by a seraph blade. It's not like the damn Clave would give care about another Downworlder going missing.
"Hm. I think I might know what is happening here. I have two more questions, just to make sure and then I will try to clear up the misunderstanding." Magnus placates.
He only receives a rather disgruntled nod. By all that is magical, this boy is adorable, Shadowhunter or not.
"Where exactly would I find 'the US'?"
Hey, don't blame Magnus for wanting to figure out where to find this Brooklyn that he will apparently be named High Warlock of at some point. It's only for future reference.
But the Shadowhunter looks about ready to explode and Magnus quickly reminds him. "Just two questions."
It gets him another impressive scowl and a snapped answer of, "It's the United States of America. Where do you think it would be located?"
The Americas? As in the colonies? Huh.
"Hm. Second and last question then. What date is it today?"
And suddenly, a sort of horrified realization begins to dawn on the Shadowhunter's face. He clearly has the brains to match his absurdly gorgeous face.
This time the answer comes almost hesitantly. "September 27, 2016."
"Ah, it is as I feared then. I am sorry to tell you that you are currently in Europe or rather the country of France to be exact. And as of a few hours ago it is now September 28 of the year 1651."
The Shadowhunter just stares.
Then, a sigh. "But of course it is."
The warlock barely keeps from laughing at the truly impressive scowl - caught somewhere between resignation and irritation - on the Shadowhunter's face.
Goodness me, he is adorable.
A/N: Huh, I don't think I've ever had such an easy time writing a story. How nice :)
I'm trying to write the Alec from somewhere between 2x07 and 2x08 (dating Magnus but still uncertain about some aspects of it). It was also the only gap I could figure out where Alec doesn't have to worry about his siblings too much (with Jace living with Magnus and Alec not knowing about Izzy's Yin Fei problem yet) and thus, he wouldn't go insane with worry while stuck in the past. But please let me know, if I missed any major plot points there!
