I could've made this chapter longer, but I figured this length is the most fitting for the story I want to narrate. I hope you will like this chapter.

"Will, what was last night about"?

"What do you mean, James"?

"Why are you calling me James all of a sudden, William"?

Will and Jem were leaned against a fence located an hour or so away from the Institute. It was late afternoon, but the air was still warm. There were bloody scratches on Will's face, but nothing too bad. Jem on the other hand had no visible wounds as proof that they'd just dealt with a demon they had come across. Or Will had come across, to be precise. Jem had run after him when Will had told him that he wanted to go to a party to drink himself silly. Jem had found Will as that green thing had tried to bite off his right arm. Jem had taken advantage of its distraction by throwing a seraph blade towards it, which cut straight through the scale-like skin of the demon and sent it back to where it belonged.

Jem had followed Will before, of course, but without gaining any result. He hadn't really hoped that he would discover anything more tonight. It was just that there was something with Will that seemed so different somehow. It had been like that since… Well, how long had it been? A thought suddenly struck him: "He has acted like this ever since Tessa arrived at the Institute". Why was that? The hairs on his neck prickled uncomfortably. Will couldn't possibly have fallen in love with her, could he? No, it was probably a coincidence, something else that had happened at the same time. It had to be, because Jem had hoped that Tessa might be the one for himself, but he couldn't do anything that would hurt his best friend...

"'S nothing", Will murmured in a way that didn't make it seem like "nothing" at all.
Jem knew that it wouldn't help to keep pressing questions on Will, it would only make it worse, so they just ended up sitting in silence for a while.

"I guess we should head back to the Institute", Jem tried carefully after a few minutes had passed.
Not surprisingly, Will answered with a "You go on. I'm off to get myself drunk, remember"?
Jem sighed. "All right, I'll just ask Tessa if she wants to join me in a game of cards or something then".
Will didn't move a muscle, so Jem straightened himself up and started his walk back to the Institute, a few couches emerging from his throat as he did so.

Will had never ignored it when Jem had coughed before. He started to regret the bitter tone he had used. Jem had done nothing wrong after all, and Will had no good reason to be mad at him and act like he did. And hadn't Jem just proved that he still cared about Will? Well of course he was pretty much obliged to do so, but anyway, Will didn't feel like that was the whole reason either.

As the anger started to fade, worry began to creep through his veins instead. At first it crept slowly, but then it came all at once with an overpowering force. Jem had just gone, but what if his coughs had numbered up and developed into a coughing fit? What if Jem, in this exact moment, were standing on his arms and knees, spitting blood, not having been able to reach back to the Institute in time? And Will had been too busy with his own selfish thoughts to check if he really was okay.

Suddenly Will started to run, or rather sprint. He raced as fast as he could the route he knew Jem always used. Despite of being a Shadowhunter, Will found himself short of breath for the first time in his life that he could remember. A feeling of hopelessness erupted inside of him, but he still kept running. Jem's face swam before his eyes, and he used it as motivation to keep going on and on until he finally saw the familiar doors of the Institute.

The last of his energy seemed to seep out of him, and while he hadn't found Jem on his hands and knees, it was Will who doubled over instead. Relief mixed with his terrible hopelessness. Jem was safe. He was fine. He was inside the Institute. With Charlotte, and Henry, and, and... Tessa. Of course he was safe. Nothing to worry about. What was still bothering him was that this hopeless guy with the trembling hands wasn't Will. Naturally, with a curse like his, it was impossible to be happy, but still he'd managed with the help of his books, with Jem by his side, and the hope he had in Magnus. He had never longed more to tell Jem everything than just now. He couldn't bear wait a second longer. But then he couldn't bear watching Jem struggle with Will's burden either, and he couldn't deny that he feared that Jem would think of him differently if he knew that Will had allowed Jem, and only Jem to love him. He feared that Jem would think that Will loved him the least, while it was the opposite that was true.

And it was in exactly that moment Will realized that Jem was the only one he wanted to love him. He wanted Jem, and no one else. It didn't matter that much what the others thought about him. Jem was always so kind, and there wasn't a single thing Will had done that Jem hadn't forgiven. That was the reason why Will could stand his curse. If only he could only tell the rest of the story too. The realization struck him so powerfully, and the sensation was so overwhelming that he wasn't even conscious of rising himself up from the ground.

He found himself on his feet again, walking with a steady pace, not towards the doors of the Institute, not to drink until he couldn't feel, but to a familiar brown door placed at the top of a staircase belonging to the a big, white mansion: Magnus's mansion. Or the one he had lived in the past week, at least.

He knocked twice, and it didn't take many seconds before a footman opened the door. There was no sign of a smile on his lips, it looked like he was bored to death and didn't wish anything more than to disappear on the spot and never come back.
"I don't think you coming here tonight was a good idea", he said casually.
"You think"?, answered Will. "And why is that, I may ask"?
The footman hesitated. Will, having the brain of a Shadowhunter, took advantage of this, and knocked himself a way around the footman.
"EY, what do you think you're doing"?, he shouted after him.
Will ignored this, and the footman didn't seem to bother to follow him either. Will dashed up the staircase, having a feeling that he would find Magnus upstairs tonight. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he kind of did look forward to see Magnus again, a face that would neither scowl nor look at him as if he was an animal that had been hurt.

Will was outside Magnus's bedroom now. He knocked at the door, and while he did so he imagined Magnus's humour filled voice asking him to come in. He was instead surprised that Magnus opened the door himself. There was absolutely nothing with him to suggest the at-the-top-of-the-social-rank, joking-and-laughing-all-the-time-warlock like Will had come to know. His usually carefully styled, black hair was now damp and plastered to his forehead, as if he hadn't taken a bath for several days, and the dark shadows under his eyes couldn't in any way be mistaken for anything else than a sign of sleepless nights. This startled Will so much that he took a few steps back.

"M- Magnus, what on earth has happened to you"?, he erupted. "I was hoping you could hel"… He stopped suddenly as he saw Magnus's eyes close. He swayed on the spot, as if he was about to faint, but then, just as quickly, he turned around and sat down on his unmade bed, looking very much awake.
"You really, really shouldn't have come here tonight, Will", his grim voice uttered.

So, that's the end of the chapter. You have no idea how much it would mean for my writing (and for me) if you could take a second to review, even if it's just a small comment.