Disclaimer: Although I wish it was different, I have no ownership over Cassandra Clare's creations. And honestly, I still have no idea why I write these things. We're posting them on . I mean, isn't it obvious that we're not the real authors?
Irrelevant Warning: I'm pissed off because my profile isn't formatting itself correctly.
A/N: So, the first chapter wasn't too shabby, right? It was a bit short, but I didn't have much outlined at that point. Here's the second chapter for you, which is much longer. Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Dinner at the Institute
It had been over a week, and they had not talked. Unbeknownst to Alec, Magnus had fallen into a pit of annoyance and frustration. He frequently tried to call to apologize (although he didn't see what he'd done that was wrong, except suggest that Alec leave), but Alec would not answer or return them. The Shadowhunter was still furious, and he had begun to wear Jace and Clary down with his complaints.
"If you're so mad, then just tell him," Clary said reasonably, leaning against the training hall's far wall.
Alec was silent, fuming. Clary did not irritate him as much as she used to; in fact, she rarely did anymore, but this was one of those times that he wished she would just shut up. Neither she nor Jace were being of much help, and he was just as mad at his parabatai as he was her.
"I don't want to talk to him."
"Alec," Jace said quietly, interjecting for the first time in a few minutes. "Nothing will get better if you do this. You're punishing him for not wanting to make you unhappy."
He was about to retort in frustration that he was simply copying Clary from the day before when his mother entered the room, wearing gear.
"Am I interrupting something?" she asked calmly, eyeing her son's angry expression. She had been worrying over his health the last few days; he barely ate, and he was even more quiet than usual, preferring to stay in his room during the times in which he would normally be a part of the Institute and its activities.
"No," Jace said quickly, turning his dull eyes to his adoptive mother. Ever since the rooftop incident, he hadn't felt the same, but he couldn't put his finger on what caused it. Lilith was dead, and Sebastian had never been resurrected, so what was the dread that pulled at him before every turn? "We were just talking with Alec."
"I see..." Maryse narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, wondering what Alec was not telling her. To the others, she appeared angry. "I have called a dinner together for the evening, and it would be best if you dressed quickly, as we're having guests. Your sister insisted on cooking, and she decided on soup as the main course."
There was a collective moan of disgust from the room. "I've made some food as well, but don't touch the soup or bread. Everything else should be safe. Now come to the dining hall."
Slowly Alec, Jace, and Clary made their way out of the training room. The latter two were dressed well enough for the dinner, but Alec had to make himself half-way presentable. He settled on, or rather the only thing clean was, jeans and a thin sweater that had at one time been black until Jace had thrown it into the washer with a crap load of white clothes and bleach. Since then it had been a creamy white; it would have been like an Aran sweater if it had had the bobbles, criss-crosses, and otherwise odd patterns that decorated the Irish garments.
He stepped out into the hall, rolled up his sleeves, and sat down on the near side of the table in-between Jace and Isabelle. She was talking about the soup she'd made, how there were peanuts and spinach and all manner of other gross things in there that he wished not to contemplate. The bread apparently had garlic and blue cheese sprinkled on top, along with other things that he tuned out.
Maryse was bringing in her guests. Alec suspected they were members of the Conclave, but he really wasn't sure. For the moment his mind was on Magnus; he'd called so often and yet never once left a message. It was infuriating. If he truly wanted to talk to him, why couldn't he come to the Institute and talk in person?
"Yes, this is my daughter, Isabelle; my adopted son, Jace; and my eldest son, Alexander," Maryse was saying now. She said other things, but Alec tuned her out as he had his sister, really not caring to hear her words. She seated them at the table; many of their faces were unfamiliar. The bell that indicated a Downworlder wishing to be let into the Institute chimed, and she rushed off to receive it. She returned a few moments later, and it wasn't until Alec heard a certain name that he looked up at the newest addition to the room.
There was Magnus, sparkles about his hair and face as per usual, glancing over him coldly, then greeting Jace and Isabelle and the members of the Conclave with an official air, refusing to acknowledge his presence.
Maryse seemed to not notice. "It's good to have you here, Magnus. This meeting is urgent, and I very much need your judgment. If you'll please sit down..."
Alec peered around the table, noticed that there were only two more spots available, and sighed heavily. Magnus would be forced to sit either directly across from him or one seat to the left of that. He chose the one directly across, and Maryse took the other, turning in her seat to continue conversation.
"I'm afraid that I have some potentially very frightening news. The Conclave members that I have assembled here already know about this, and this meeting is actually rather solely for your ears." She turned to Jace, Isabelle, and Clary. "Now, normally you would not be allowed to attend such meetings, but since this involves you all at least to a certain degree, I think that it is necessary to sit in on. I have approval from the Consul," she added firmly, looking upon Jace's temporarily surprised face.
"Now, the Clave investigated the rooftop where Lilith was killed nearly two weeks ago. The coffin that Jace told us contained Sebastian was and is empty, and the demonic objects and power surrounding the field have vanished entirely. We have no trace of them. You were there, Magnus, but you did not go up to the rooftop. The Clave would like you to tell us what you think happened."
Magnus was silent for a long moment, then he choked on a piece of Isabelle's bread, spitting it back out onto the table with disgust and hurriedly taking a sip of his wine. His gaze lingered on the members of the Conclave present, and then turned it to Maryse. "Am I being accused by the Clave of conspiring with a demon? Not only a demon, I might add, but a Greater Demon? The Mother of Demons? I, a Child of Lilith?"
Maryse hesitated, then said, "No, I do not believe that is the Clave's intent. It is not mine. I simply wish to know what you think might have happened to Sebastian's body and how no one is able to explain to us why there is no demonic power residing in the region."
The warlock sat again for a few moments, gazing at his boyfriend, not really thinking of the matter at hand as he should have been. Then the spell was broken, and he moved his gaze to Jace, who appeared lethargic. Magnus didn't want to say that he didn't believe the young Shadowhunter, but he was definitely suspicious. After all, Jace had been under a demon's influence for a long time, and the rune that had defiled his body had been a permanent one, despite it being destroyed. How were they to know that Jace was still Jace and not a monster wearing his skin? He could have lied through his teeth when he said that Sebastian was not brought back to life, but remained a corpse in the coffin.
Finally, he said, "It is possible that Sebastian's body was taken away in the precious moments when no one was on the rooftop. Thus, it is also possible that he still lives."
"But Lilith said that she needed both Jace and Simon in the circle to resurrect him," Clary interjected.
Magnus inclined his head. "And they were, were they not? Simon drank Sebastian's blood. Did he ever actually give his blood to him? Even accidentally, such as his blood spraying into the tank?"
"I don't think so..." she replied, biting her lip in thought.
Magnus watched Jace, but his expression did not change from that of bored and lethargic, almost as if he had somewhere he would rather be at that moment, yet didn't really care. He still had not been blessed by the Silent Brothers and the Iron Sisters, and Magnus felt that it was only a matter of time before something bad happened again as a result.
"Then I do not know what I can say to you," he said, pulling his gaze away from Jace. "Yes, it is possible that Sebastian is alive once more, but I could not tell you for certain one way or the other. I could attempt to track him, although we do not have anything of his to track with, do we? And if he's dead, then... Well, it is all a matter of impossibility.
"Sebastian may live or may not, but I do not know. As for the demonic presence, it is strange, but not entirely unheard of. I knew Henry Branwell, the creator of the Sensor, and his inventions didn't always work..." He chuckled at a long ago memory, reveling momentarily in the past.
"Thank you for your time, Magnus." Maryse rose from her chair, indicating that the meeting was adjourned. The clatter of last sips of drinks and the squeak of chairs pushing back against the wood floor sounded. "I will speak to the Conclave further and notify you if we need your services again. Alexander, would you show Mr. Bane and the Conclave to the door?"
"Of course, mother," Alec immediately replied. But he felt rather sick inside. Seeing Magnus at the Institute had brought up even more feelings in him. The last time he'd seen him there had been when Camille was in the Sanctuary, and she had spoken so eloquently of Will and the people Magnus used to be with. He felt positively furious, and he had to work the muscles of his jaws to prevent his face from breaking into spasms of his true emotions as he strode down the corridors of the Institute, called the elevator, and rode down with the Conclave and Magnus. When the Conclave had finally left the Institute, he turned to Magnus and burst out, "And what have you been doing lately? Have you been sleeping around behind my back? Was Camille in your bed, or perhaps a certain werewolf? Wait, no, maybe an ifrit is more to your likings these days, seeing as you're not picky at all when it comes to South Carolina!"
"South Carolina?" he mused. "Never been there. Remember, you didn't want to go when I suggested it at the Ironworks."
Alec glared at him. "I think you know what I mean."
Magnus sighed, rubbing his fingertips along the wrinkles that were not upon his face. "Yes, I do. And, not that you'll believe me, I suspect, but I have not been to South Carolina with anyone but you for a very long time."
Alec looked away, then back at him. "Promise?" he asked in a small voice.
"I promise." There was a short moment where they looked into the other's eyes, seeming to speak without words. "I'm sorry about the other night. I shouldn't have told you to leave. It... Alec, it really hurts me - it hurts me here," he said, putting his fist to his heart, "when you accuse me of these things. You know that I love you. I don't ever want you to be unhappy, yet that seems to be the only thing that I've done lately. Making you unhappy, I mean, not wishing it upon you. I would never, I mean, I-"
The Shadowhunter boy walked across the distance between them in three big steps and wrapped his arms around the rambling warlock, silencing him. Then a sudden thought occurred. He pulled back out of his arms and asked very seriously, "Did you ever have sex with Henry Branwell?"
"Alexander!" he exclaimed, eyes wide and looking appalled. "Of course not! Besides, he was married!"
Alec hummed to himself, then buried his head in Magnus's chest once more. "Magnus, I want you. I want to be with you forever."
Magnus, hugging Alec to his chest protectively, looked out at the church with resignation. "Alec, if I knew that you would be happy for all of that life, then I would do it in a heartbeat if I could. But I can't steal your life away from you. And even if I was heartless enough to do it, there is no known spell or potion or stone that can make it so. I'm sorry."
A/N: Wow, that was an effortless chapter to write! And actually, I am one of the few Malec writers who do not hate Clary. I don't know how you can read the books and hate the main character... Wait. Crap, I'm a hypocrite. I watch Glee just for Kurt, Blaine, and Santana and despise Rachel, Finn, and Quinn. Well, damn. Ignore me. Oh yeah. And for an explanation of the South Carolina thing, go to the link in my profile.