"So, what about you," Magnus asked and walked past Alec, "have you decided what you're going to report to the Clave?"

"Ouch," thought Alec. "I'm torn," he said and scratched his face, "if I don't tell the Clave about Luke's attempt on Valentine's life I'd be in violation. If they find out I could be deruned." Such were the perks of making important decisions.

Magnus, whose head was buzzing from his level of stress and lack of sleep, had not been listening. He put away his cup, returned to Alec and nonchalantly said: "Whatever you decide, I'll stand by you." This much was true. He would.

He squeezed Alec's arm, and Alec could see in the other's face that Magnus was distracted, was putting on a mask. And thus he followed suit and took hold of Magnus's shoulder, thinking to himself that he had to try again.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

He wasn't reaching him. No. He hadn't gotten through. He could tell. He just could. And Alec couldn't help it, he felt disappointed with himself. But then again – he mustn't just make it his own fault. It was unfair toward Magnus and himself to simply exclude the possibility that the Warlock wanted to talk, but needed more time. For whatever reason. It was possible he might still come around.

"Positive." Magnus's voice was soft and comforting. He was completely in denial, which made no sense to Alec. He'd thought Magnus to be one of the most communicative people he'd ever met. Apparently, those two things weren't mutually exclusive.

There was something in his eyes, though, and in his touch. Something that didn't harmonize with his words. Just like last night, he ended up patting Alec's cheek in this somewhat desultory, distracted fashion. The very same way you might pat a child's head. As if to tell him "let it be" or rather "let me be". "I've just had a moment" resounded in Alec's ears. But, surely, this had to be more? Underneath his engaging smiles, the Warlock looked exhausted. How had Alec missed that last night? Why hadn't he noticed? But he had. He just… well, what?

On the one hand it had been dark, and they'd been in a good mood for most of the evening. Their London visit had been a bit of an up and down, but the time they'd spent together afterwards had been… quality time. Well, at least Alec had thought so until he'd opened his eyes to find himself all alone in Magnus's massive bed. Again. Again. Again. Again.

"Care to join me for an espresso, Alexander?"

"Uhm, no. Thanks. I'll go get ready." Alec said and, still barefooted, patted over to Magnus's bathroom. The many different rugs felt nice beneath his feet. With one last look out, he closed the door behind him. It wasn't something he always did, but he felt he needed this separate space to think. And what he thought was that he'd better make this quick - which was never guaranteed if he left the door open. More than once, Magnus had considered an open door an invitation… Unwelcome sparkles spread in his stomach. He breathed them away. They weren't wanted right now.

Because, on the other hand, Alec realized, Magnus also knew pretty well how to conceal it all with his good-humored nature and all that make-up (now that he used one to get ready, too, it occurred to Alec that that had probably been the mirror's purpose). Nevertheless, the many sleepless nights definitely added up. The rays of the morning sun hadn't been forgiving. Despite that eyeliner Alec liked so much, there had been dark shadows under Magnus's kind eyes. And yet, the last thing Alec wanted to do was to pressure him into anything. He decided Magnus must need more time and probably more space, too.

Hopefully, that was true. He wasn't so sure. More often than not, Magnus wasn't easy to read. Perhaps he needed Alec to do something else? This was hard. He himself was a very straightforward and blunt person. Even if he had to keep quiet, people close to him, basically Isabelle (sometimes Jace), always noticed he was in a bad place and they had their ways to make him talk, make him feel better. With Magnus, everything was still new and fresh. They felt close and comfortable around and with each other, but also were still becoming familiar. Were getting to know who they were. Which was exciting. But on days like these, it was tedious. It complicated things.

"I'm, ah, leaving, then." He informed the Warlock when he stepped back in the main area of the loft. "Remember, I told you we had this meeting about Valentine's transfer. I'll reschedule it to take place earlier. I woke up feeling that there isn't another second to waste. You know, I need this person to become somebody else's responsibility soon. So… Yeah, I've got to get going. 'S That all right? With you, I mean?"

"That is absolutely great, I agree with about everything you've just said," replied Magnus, who was leaning against the kitchen counter. "See you later?"

"Yeah. Sure." Although 'later' was a very flexible concept. An accurate time would have been more calming for Alec (and Magnus). But they both knew it wasn't always possible. Today, the mission had priority.

Magnus saw him out. They shared another kiss. "Back in black, I see," Magnus remarked, nodding down at Alec's trousers. But he kept his hands to himself.

Alec shook his head in disbelief. How did Magnus do this? Why? His own thoughts were doing summersaults, turning over and over (and over) as they tried to deal with Magnus and Valentine and the Institute and the whole of New York at the same time. He didn't want to leave his boyfriend behind like this. But he needed to get rid of Valentine in order to protect not least Magnus. Additionally, he was extremely worried something might go wrong. He really needed to get back to the Institute as quickly as possible – and he didn't want Magnus to catch up on his worries. Maybe, without Alec here, he could find some rest. Alec really didn't want to burden the Warlock in any way...

Still, overall, he couldn't hide that he wasn't in a joking mood. Anxiety washed over him in waves. During a short, irrational moment, he considered storming back in, ripping off Magnus's clothes and throwing him down onto the sofa. Or the carpet. He squinted and shook his head again. This time at himself.

"Sure, whatever," he said, leaned in for one for one more peck on the lips, allowed his forehead to rest for the fragment of a second on Magnus's, and hurried off.

He wanted to show Magnus understanding – and he didn't want to be taken for a fool. Although he didn't believe the Warlock did it intentionally, the sleeping situation and everything it implied still annoyed and worried him. But he needed to clear his head now. To focus. This was going to be a crucial day. Only now he informed his siblings that they were wanted earlier. Both agreed and said that was possible.

It was a relatively sunny day. A nice day, actually, if he weren't so nervous. Mundanes were all over the place. Alec thought about what Magnus had said. Of course, it wasn't their fault… but their hasty running around still annoyed him. He walked past a bunch of kids who were, presumably, 'waiting' for their school bus or something. The noise level was unbelievable.

He drew himself up and, in passing, bestowed on the children a dark, angry stare. His best.

Not that it was worth anything. A little girl with a ridiculous ponytail stuck out her tongue at him. It unnerved him so much he almost automatically returned the favor. He shook his head and restrained himself.

Then he noticed something.

He noticed how a boy who was at the very center of his mates' games – they were doing their best to distract him – seemed totally immersed in the book which he held in his hands. They succeeded, it seemed, in distracting about everyone but their friend. Alec came to an abrupt halt. All at once, the girl with the ponytail looked scared. Alec seemed a lot taller and much more frightening now that his presence seemed to endure longer than she'd foreseen. But Alec had long forgotten all about her and her little effrontery; he'd stopped because he'd had had a sudden idea. It was a stupid idea, but not stupid enough to not act on it.

He'd still have the time. He checked his watch; well, he'd have it if he hurried up.

So he did.

He made a little detour. It was too early for the regular shops to be open, but maybe he'd have more luck if he checked out the subway stations near the Institute? One of them had to have a newspaper stand or shop. Certainly, at least one of them must also be selling books. "With a bit of luck," he thought, "with a bit of luck." Luck was definitely something he needed on this day.

With regard to Valentine, Alec had made his decision long before arriving at the Institute. He would put his sister in charge. It had to be either her or Jace, but Jace's personal history was what had Alec favor Isabelle this time. Jace could and should be a part of this (Izzy would certainly think the same), but he shouldn't have to be the one leading. No matter how much he hated Valentine, that man had still been the one who'd raised Jace for many, many years.

As he entered the great forum, he ran into Sebastian first thing. With an enthusiastic "Good morning, Alec. I heard you've accelerated our briefing," the blond man joined him. Indeed, Alec hadn't planned to tell Sebastian. He realized he had to be very, very careful. But Sebastian simply kept talking. Apparently, he didn't expect an explanation. Alec wasn't really listening to him; they were now standing at their table and he could already make out the voices of Izzy and Jace, could hear his siblings coming. From what Alec could overhear, Magnus's guesses had hit the nail on the head. The Queen had done something to Clary and Jace. Jace's voice was insistent. Izzy's a bit unnerved. Beyond any doubt, their brother was on fire about what had happened (so close to his parabatai, he didn't need to hear it, he could feel it). But today, Alec was reminded again, there was a different issue to be dealt with. And for once, it wasn't Clary. Nontheless, where was Clary? Alec scanned the room, but didn't see her. He'd sort of expected her to be here by default. He watched the other two Shadowhunters approach.

His sister joined him and Sebastian with a fed-up look of resolution on her face. Jace looked a little bitter. Well, at least he was surely going to brighten Izzy's day. Once they were assembled and he had all eyes on him, he lost no time with small talk. It was one of the best things with respect to Izzy and Jace. Neither of them cared for nonsensical preliminary skirmishing where work was concerned. He said, matter of factly:

"I've requested that we move Valentine to the guard at Idris. The Clave has approved the transfer."

"Have you told them about the assassination attempt?" Jace, arms crossed, asked straightaway.

"Ouch," Alec thought for the second time today.

The Head of the New York Institute moved his very head along with his words. "No. I explained to them that moving Valentine out of the city is the best way to restore relations with the Downworld. I left Luke out of it." As if the Clave had needed a proper reason. They were eager to get their hands on Valentine.

Izzy opened her mouth, but she didn't say anything. Sebastian was the first one to comment.

"It is the right decision," he said.

Alec acknowledged him with a brief look. He chose not to add to his words but to continue with his own agenda. "But we have not given up finding who orchestrated the hit on Valentine," he said.

Again, Sebastian interrupted, forcing them to devote his attention to him.

"I actually have a few leads on that. I'll, um, I'll get a report in by the end of the day."

"Great," nodded Alec. When Sebastian left the group, he didn't consider it too great a loss. But maybe the Englishman would come up with a useful report, who knew? Anyways. Next topic. He found the eyes of his sister.

"Izzy, you will be leading the transfer mission. Jace," Alec added, "you will assist." Excitedly, Izzy, who was now beaming, turned to look at Jace. His parabatai answered with a curt nod. Agreed.

"We need to remove Valentine's Circle rune," his sister said, "the new wards in Idris won't let him pass with it on." Alec was content to see she gave Jace the honors. Jace was, according to the circumstances, pleased. So was Alec. But insecurity nagged at him. Magnus… Luke... Sebastian… Valentine… The Clave.

"Tell me that I'm making the right call. Because, between you and me," Isabelle had already left, "I'm just not sure I'm good at this."

Jace seemed bewildered.

"What are you talking about! Look, you were born for this job. Hey," Jace came closer and lowered his voice, "think of it like archery, okay? Just… just trust yourself and don't hesitate…" His parabatai smirked. It was still one of Alec's favorites and among the most reassuring things in the world to see Jace's face light up. Despite everything, he suspected that would never change. "And beyond that," Jace said in a more casual tone, "just cross your fingers." Alec wasn't so sure that Jace's semi-useful advice was a favorite, too.

He snorted.

With a cheeky knock on the table Jace excused himself. "Good," thought Alec. "Not bad." Things were finally taking their course. He couldn't wait until the burden that was Valentine Morgenstern was out of his Institute. Next thing he had to do was go to the office and make sure the paperwork was up-to-date.

This would take a while. Alec, who'd had had no breakfast (just a very quick coffee from the coffee shop at the subway station), was nowhere near grabbing any food any time soon. But he didn't feel hungry either. He felt like time was passing ten times too quick.

Really, he felt as if he'd only just sat down when Isabelle's classic knock announced her at his door. He hadn't even gotten round to wrapping the present yet.

"Valentine's Circle rune has been removed and I've assembled my team." She, too, seemed on fire. Alec was surprised though. How many hours had he been sitting here for? But it was the only news he wanted to hear that she was making progress.

He confided in his sister. "Good. I'll feel a lot better when he's out of the Institute."

"Have you secured Magnus for the transfer?" She asked.

Had Isabelle asked him to do so? He didn't remember that she had.

Still – who else would they work with? It was self-evident, really. And it wasn't as if he hadn't known she, like he usually did, would want Magnus. He'd just been caught on the wrong foot – which Izzy couldn't know. He might be able to change her mind, though. Maybe if he was firm enough.

"Yeah," thought Alec, "about that…" He stood up and, walking over to her, said – much louder than he'd originally intended – "I think we should consider using a different Warlock."

When he left his office, his sister automatically fell in with his steps. He went on to suggest that "Catarina Loss lives in, uhm – " But Izzy cut in. She would have none of it, of course not. Alec's behavior revealed to her that, when he even admitted that he had already sought out another Warlock, something had to be seriously wrong. Usually, Alec would never ever consider trusting any other person with a job like that but Magnus.

"We're talking about portalling the Clave's most wanted into Idris. There's not many Warlocks with that clearance. Besides, I want the best. And that's Magnus," she said, decidedly. All Lightwood children were gifted with equal amounts of stubbornness. Blessing or curse? A lot of people had asked themselves this question. Nobody knew how to answer it.

Her argumentation was sound, so much was clear. And Alec would've seen it the exact same way if it weren't for Magnus's current condition. To make Izzy understand, to prevent her from going to Magnus herself, he had no choice but to be completely honest with her. There was no other way. "Look," he said, "Magnus isn't exactly in a great place right now. He hasn't been sleeping."

She knew it. She pretty much always knew when something was up with her big brother. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know." Alec answered. "He says nothing's wrong, but I can tell he's not all right." They came to a halt.

"You know, some people find it hard to ask for help." Alec's sister spoke to him in a serious tone. She looked up at her brother with those large brown eyes of hers. "If Magnus is hurting, don't let him push you away."

That reminded Alec of something Magnus had once said to him. But he felt defensive. It wasn't as if he'd just been ignoring Magnus. He had offered Magnus help a couple of times. What Isabelle said made him feel guilty. "Thank you for the advice," he said brusquely, "but I know Magnus. He needs his space. We can use a different Warlock."

Izzy's expression was one of downright disapproval. Soon, Alec knew, it would be one of rebellion. She probably thought he was endangering her mission or trying to test her, although that very much wasn't his intention. He was also (much more) sure she worried about their relationship. His sister was like that. They were like that for each other. But unfortunately,in this moment they were interrupted; unfortunately, they couldn't continue their conversation. In spite of pretending otherwise today, he always valued his sister's advice. He would have liked to talk to her for a little longer. No chance. And who were they interrupted by? Alec had to refrain from rolling his eyes. It took all his strength.

Sebastian.

The guy's ramblings about how he – after boldly announcing to have actual leads – had been unable to trace the traitor at all seemed self-contradictory to Alec. Also, Alec was certain he himself would easily be able to come up with at least four to seven revengeful, high-ranking Shadowhunters on the spot. No need for personnel files there. "Ah, whatever." Alec kept his face straight and listened.

"Well, send me the list when you're done with it," he said.

He got distracted.

All of a sudden, an old friend of his family stood in the middle of the Institute. Alec was delighted, but nonplussed. She'd not announced herself. If anyone ought to have received information on Aline's plans to visit them, it should have been him. Then again, if anyone was truly able to be stealthy and discreet and successful when it came to plans, it was Aline. It was always a pleasure to go on a mission with her.

Izzy was overjoyed, he could see it in her face. Without further thought, brother and sister descended the stairs of the great forum with Sebastian in tow. Without further ado, Isabelle flung herself into Aline's arms. Alec grinned whole-heartedly at the two. He'd always felt like as if there was some kind of unspeakable, yet very strong connection between him and Aline Penhallow. And now that he saw her and heard her speak of – "No," he realized, "to…" – her cousin, something finally made sense. What had that guy said about there being Verlacs in Paris yesterday? Of course, the Head of the Paris Institute was a Verlac. Élodie Verlac. He turned to look at Sebastian, taken aback. Literally, he took a step back.

This was going to be enlightening.

Sadly, he was robbed of the chance to observe the situation much longer. One of their fellow Shadowhunters was approaching him with a questioning expression on his face. Alec had no other choice but to excuse himself. "Damn it," he thought. But perhaps he'd been too suspicious. He thought of Jace. Alec's notorious distrust was something Jace continuously made fun of, not always in a light-hearted manner. So, perhaps being overly suspicious wasn't unlike him. With Aline confirming Sebastian's identity, the mystery of the blond man from England automatically became much less urgent. He relaxed a little bit. One less problem.

It wasn't before dawn that he got the chance to comply with Izzy's request. She'd made herself clear.

5:39 pm:

We need Magnus. No other Warlock will do. You know that as much as I do. Under normal circumstances, you'd never even consider working with another Warlock… Alec, please, for his and your own sake, go talk to him and ask him. We need him. Not only because he's the best (he definitely is), but also because he belongs at our – at your side during this mission. You've put me in charge of it. I say we need Magnus.

Love x

It wasn't that Alec didn't admit that she was right. It was that he didn't want a weakened Magnus Bane anywhere near Valentine. Imprisonment had done nothing to break Valentine's will. If anything, Valentine's calm, cool attitude had them all on edge. So, for many reasons, he was scared of what might happen if the two of them met again too soon. And he still didn't know how to make Magnus feel better when he, apparently, really didn't think anything of the sort was necessary, or at least didn't want Alec to do so. Not that talking was an absolutely necessary prerequisite for Magnus's deployment in the mission. But Alec couldn't shake the feeling that the Warlock's troubles had to do with Magnus's in-Valentine's-body experience. By the Angel. If that was true and something – anything – went wrong again, Alec had no idea how to bear the responsibility of it again. It had been impossible enough the first time.

All the way to Magnus's apartment, he practiced and repeated in his head what he would say. How he would try to approach Magnus this time. He'd tried exercising restraint, maybe he'd have to be pushier, more unyielding. Nervously, he fumbled for his keys.

Right upon entering, he spotted Magnus in the yellow armchair next to his favorite blue one. Something kept him from saying "hello". Alec carefully placed the plastic bag he'd brought on the floor by the door and remained quiet. Had Magnus not noticed that someone had just set foot in the loft? For real? That was bad. Extremely bad. Alec crossed his arms and remained in the shadows, contemplating what he didn't dare believe. Absentmindedly, Magnus took a sip of the drink he was holding in his hand. Then nothing. Then another sip.

Then nothing.

The young man had seen enough to know Isabelle was right. They had to talk.

Magnus, for his part, had repeatedly seen enough to know that nothing was right anymore. For days (for hundreds of years, really), his mind had been haunted. He'd try to tell himself that it was wrong, perverted, post-traumatic. He'd try to relive it with all he had so as to process it. Neither approach had worked. So, at some point, he'd decided to end his life, but Camille had prevented him from doing so. At her side, he'd been okay for a while.

But he was back at it again. Whatever he tried, it made him feel worse. Additionally, he was still experiencing the beneficial aftermath of this darned rune. Eventually, he had tried to take the bull by the horns once more, had thrown himself out there thinking that he could overcome this again if only he had enough pleasant distractions, enough nice things to do and look forward to. If only he had Alexander by his side as much and as often as possible. But right now there was no Alexander. Alexander was working. A small voice reproached him that he should be working as well. He drank to it. Well, Alexander had no idea, anyway. Plus, Magnus was terrified that, if Alexander had any idea at all, there would never be any Alexander for him again, ever.

Yet, there was always his good, old friend Señor Alcohol. Intoxication was always a go-to. It just was very hard to get to his place after so many centuries, and on top of that in an immortal body. The journey took awfully long and meanwhile, en route, left a lot of time for unwelcome thoughts. And somehow he always ended up in the wrong house. There, he'd landed on that disastrous veranda again (for some reason, he heard his mouth cry out for his mother, not for liquor), lifted the blanket. Discovered his mother, lifeless, dead. He screamed.

"Magnus," Alec said, took off his jacket and walked right into the living room area. No reaction. "Magnus?" Alec repeated.

Finally, the man's face came to life and he responded. Magnus's gaze found Alec's. He looked a bit embarrassed. As if Alec had caught him at something.

It was symptomatic for Magnus to try to cover it all up.

"Well, hello," he said, rising to his feet. If his friend still refused to come to him, he'd have to outsmart him - and he knew just how. Magnus went to his liquor table. Alec grew more worried by the second – Magnus wouldn't even come and kiss him first. "I was just about to make myself a drink. You want one?"

Alec frowned. Impatient, he threw his jacket to the side. Magnus already had a drink. His glass was still half-full. But he'd heard stories about Magnus. So far, when he'd mixed cocktails for Alec, Alec had never witnessed anything too excessive. It had always been fun – mostly for Magnus, because Alec was a lousy drinker. But it was an open secret that Magnus had gotten unspeakably wasted a few times in his life. Someone, he wasn't sure who it had been, had told him how, after a breakup with some Peruvian musician, Magnus had been drinking so heavily that he'd passed out and been sick for days afterwards. Therefore, Magnus's current devotion to drinking probably wasn't too good a sign. Had the Warlock been doing this for the last few days already? Sit at home in his chair, drunk, alone? Hadn't he said that he'd be working? Or that he had been working?

"No," he answered eventually. "We're transporting Valentine to Idris." Shouldn't he remember that? What was going on?

"Even more reason," Magnus stated, "we can toast to Valentine's highly anticipated departure." The way he said it made Alec feel uneasy.

He was no longer willing to beat around the bush. His voice sounded a bit wooden, gave away that he was, in fact, making a huge effort to maintain his calm. He was inexperienced when it came to this sort of talking. There was nothing he could do about that now. All he could do was trust his gut and, like Jace had said, cross his fingers with regard to the rest. Perhaps his parabatai's advice hadn't been so bad after all.

"I love you," he started, "and I know something's wrong." Magnus paused in his movements, the bottle still in his hands. He was listening. "Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

Magnus turned over to him. "I appreciate it, but I'm fine." Alec could sense refusal and impatience in the Warlock's soft voice. 'Cut it out' said his face.

He wasn't going to. Not again. "No, you're not." Alec insisted, emphatically. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to leave until you talk to me… Do you remember when you said 'When things get crazy, don't push me away'?"

He instantly knew he hit home. Thank the Angel. And Izzy.

With resignation and apparent difficulty, Magnus put down all the things he'd been holding in his beautiful, delicate hands. When he turned to face Alec this time, Alec could see he'd definitely broken through. Magnus was fiddling with his fingers, averting his eyes. Finally, he began to speak:

"When I was tortured in Valentine's body… that Agony rune…" he glanced up at Alexander, whose eyes were focused on him, and shook his head "it… made me relive my worst memory." At once, he felt this overwhelming urge to tell Alexander so very badly again. He longed for his comfort. But he was terrified Alec would not want to comfort him once he knew, that Magnus didn't deserve his consolation. Because, if he was honest with himself, he didn't. He gasped for breath. "And now," he almost hissed, "I can't get it out of my head. It… Every time I close my eyes, it…"

Magnus was struggling for air and for words. He felt that, if he didn't sit back down, his knees would give way. He made it to his chair (the blue one) and dropped down. Alec was anxious. Scared, even. He had no idea what was coming, but he had read and heard enough about the Agony rune to realize how terrible Magnus must be affected by it To his own amazement, that part of him which didn't care for his own feelings, which wanted to do nothing but be there for his boyfriend, took charge. It followed Magnus to the chair and got to its knees in front of it. There was no way Alec was going to leave the Warlock alone with this, not even physically. Magnus needed to see his face. He needed to see Magnus's face, too. They needed to be close. Very much so.

"Hey," he said as soothingly as he could, "what is it?" Like last night, Magnus wasn't really looking at anything that was there. He was somewhere else, somewhere he was now going to take Alec.

"Remember," Magnus said, "I told you how I found my mother dead by her own hand…" Alec nodded. "My stepfather found me shortly after. He screamed at me. He called me an abomination."

Alec's voice was barely audible, merely a whisper. "What?" He didn't understand. He thought of his little brother, of Max. "How?" He asked himself. "Who? Why? How?"

"He was right." Magnus said so with a dry sob. The emptiness of the Warlock's words had Alec hold on to himself. He wasn't aware of it, but he was hugging himself for comfort. "He blamed me for her suicide." Magnus continued. "He said that she hated herself for giving birth to a monster."

Alec was shocked. Magnus was no monster. He didn't know what he was feeling. He saw that Magnus was hurting. He'd never seen the other man cry. He was about to see him cry now.

"So I lashed out," Magnus let him know, "with all", he shook his head, "the magic… I had. I burnt him, Alexander, right where he stood. I murdered my stepfather."

Alec mirrored Magnus and shook his head, too. He was staring at the Warlock, trying to fathom his pain. He could barely imagine him, a small child, go through this. Go through any of it. Or anything like it. But here the little boy sat, in a grown man's body. There was little trace of the man who was much older and much wiser than most people he knew. Yes, Alec felt it was a different Magnus who he was talking to now. For the first time, Alec really felt older than Magnus. He'd not thought it possible.

"You were just a boy," he tried to rationalize what he'd just heard, "you weren't in control of your powers."

Magnus raised his eyebrows. Tears were running down his cheeks. "Yes," he disagreed, "actually, I was."

Alec slightly opened his mouth, about to speak. He wanted to contradict Magnus, he wanted to say that no Warlock so young was in control of their powers. Although, Magnus… few Warlocks made it to a similar position. He was, after all, the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Even as a child, he might have been different, special. Much more powerful than most other Warlocks would ever be. Before he'd made his mind up about what to say, he saw Magnus hadn't finished. So Alec kept his mouth shut.

"I never wanted you to see this," Magnus grimaced and pressed his lips together, hard, "terrible, ugly side of me…" Throughout the whole conversation, the Warlock had barely looked at Alec. He sniffed, put a hand to his nose. "… of my past…"

Hearing this, Alec had to avert his eyes for a second.

Too much.

He couldn't stand to see Magnus in so much pain. Magnus, who managed to compliment himself three times as much as he complimented any other person, including Alec – on a regular basis. Magnus, who was able to take pretty much anything with humor. Magnus. The person who showed Alec that to love and to be loved didn't have to be unrequited, didn't have to go hand in hand with guilt and shame – a person with skill and magic so potent, so strong, so able…

He also couldn't wrap his head around how there was a part of Magnus which believed he was a… a monster. An abomination. A murderer. But Alec had seen and heard enough to know how strong this part of Magnus must be. How lonely and lost it was. He had no clue what to do. He put a hand on the Warlock's calf and moved it up to his upper thigh, desperately wanting to establish some sort of contact. He wanted Magnus to physically feel he was there, wanted him to share his warmth, his strength. Both was in him, somewhere. He'd just have to find it. Channel it.

"Hey," Alec said and raised his eyes back up again. Magnus's gaze, however, travelled over Alec's shirt. After seconds that felt like minutes, when their eyes finally met, Alec was able to take in just how bloodshot and red his boyfriend's eyes were. He saw that Magnus's cheek bones were accentuated by this unwelcome shimmer only sadness, despair and grief were accompanied by. He couldn't stand it. None of it. Instinctively he reached out and did the one thing Magnus had done so often lately, he took hold of the other's face. He covered and wiped away the tears with his palm. How fragile Magnus's head looked in his hands, how open his stare was – he'd never seen him that way before. Never before had he seen Magnus so defeated or so vulnerable.

So tired.

But still, he looked oddly beautiful. There was, Alec saw, insecurity and fear in Magnus's face. And incredulousness. It was the dubious, perplex way in which Magnus rested his head against Alec's palm. As if he was wondering whether Alec was really here. Alec's heart compressed painfully. This was the same person who'd waste no time in telling literally anyone how irresistible and compelling he (thought he) was. Dashingly cute. With heartfelt conviction and absolute sincerity Alec said:

"There is nothing ugly about you."

Magnus felt his lips tremble at the sound of Alec's words. The pressure the small of his face put to Alec's hand increased. He blinked as his eyes threatened to fill with water again. He was struggling to understand and process what Alexander had said. Helpless with emotion, the corners of his mouth twitched. He had no control whatsoever over his face. He stared at Alec who, the whole time, kept his eyes glues on him. Alec, who still sat here in front of him, here with him, who would still touch him, hold him. Who looked at him without disgust.

Who pulled him close.

Who pressed his chest into his own in this one way that was without compare: intuitive, blunt, unthought-through, genuine. He lay down his head on Alexander's shoulder and quietly carried on sobbing.

For a long while, Alec literally pressed Magnus into his arms. Tight. He could feel how his shoulder got soaked where Magnus rested his head and held him even tighter. His head was spinning. Was there anything he could say or do that Magnus or anybody else hadn't said or done yet? Wasn't it pointless to say anything? No. He wasn't allowed to think that way. He must try.

Carefully, he let go. Magnus sank back in the chair. Alec shifted to sit on his butt.

"I'm glad and relieved you finally told me. No wonder you're so upset. And I feel terrible, Magnus. I still can't forgive myself that I haven't recognized you when you were caught in Valentine's body… Thank you for telling me, really. But… I don't know what to say, I am so shocked," Alec said. "That's heavy stuff."

"I know. I understand. There's no excuse."

"No, there isn't. I mean, I won't say I don't understand that they were in shock and that they were afraid. I love my mother to bits, but I was afraid of her all the time when I was a child… I even can imagine that your mother – maybe she didn't know better – felt she was to blame. Just think of what you said yesterday. It's not their fault that they don't understand. Maybe she thought she ruined her baby boy's life. Her one and only, her boy… burdened with something, marked in a way she never wanted, but had no means of undoing. She bore a child so much closer to the dangers and temptations of hell than other children are. To her, you both practically stood with one leg in hell. And she thought it was her fault, because she'd been tricked. Because she let herself be tricked. I mean, you're such a strong person, Magnus. But maybe she didn't think she was. Maybe she just wasn't? Maybe she couldn't accept it. Couldn't live with what she'd done… but in the sense of 'what she'd done to you'. Maybe she was afraid of her husband? Of what the others would do to her – to both of you – once they found out? I think she thought she was the origin of your misery. She felt she damned you. I mean, I can't know. I'm just saying: I don't think she did it because she didn't love you. You told me she read to you every night, told you stories. She must have loved you before she knew. And surely, part of her still did after she knew. I think. I don't know how she couldn't have. But she was afraid, too. And, Magnus, you must have seen stuff like that much more often throughout your life than I have. You and I both know that love rarely ever is enough." Alec swallowed. "But it's no excuse. She left you alone…"

Magnus stared at Alec. What was he talking about?

"But your stepfather… Magnus." Alec looked up. "Those were different times, of course. But… I am gay, you know. Of course you know," Alec said hastily, "What I mean is: I am out, now. I won't ever have children, none of my own, my blood, at least. I mean, it's really not likely… But when I think about it. Today I wouldn't care if my child, my son and I shared the same blood. I never cared about how Jace and I didn't. There was no difference. If anything, we were closer because of that. Because we wanted to be… For all this man knew up to that point, you were his son. How could his feelings change so quickly? Was it in the heat of the moment? Was it because, generally, he was an angry man?"

Magnus shrugged. "I… I don't know about that... don't remember much more," he said. He almost stammered.

Alec nodded. "I mean, I don't know how he could ever… He must have felt betrayed. Surely, he would have taken it out on your mother. Surely, back then, they would've done something to her. But she'd forestalled that already. Which means he must have felt twice as betrayed. He had nobody else to take his wrath and hurt out on. You were there, it was easy to blame you, you were susceptible and vulnerable. Also you were illegitimate. I'm not a fan of this sort of thinking, but it is quite close to how some Shadowhunters still think. When we thought Jace was Valentine's son, my mother – who always loved Jace like her own flesh and blood – wanted me to turn my back on him. I told her he was my parabatai, that he was closer than family. That I had no idea what would happen to him or me if we left each other behind. She told me to cut out the cancer before it could spread." Alec's tone was bitter. "So, you see, I don't think the same way. Not anymore. I never gave up on Jace. Not really. And I would never give up on you. I know that what your stepfather did was wrong. So do you, Magnus. Please…" Alec paused. "It's perverse. There's no excuse. But again, he had no idea. Neither had you, Magnus. What did you know about the world? You knew your parents, you became familiar with your own, awakening powers. So, okay, you knew that something about you must be different. But other than that? You'd only just discovered your mother's dead body. Your father was screaming at you, threatening you. You were scared for your life, you could not understand. I mean, I notice every other month or so how Max's way to think changes… how his brain develops. You were still a small boy, no matter what you say about being in control of your powers. You acted the way any kid with such powers would have. Those things he said… you… you must not believe them true… you must not blame yourself for doing what you did. I could never blame you, Magnus. And you will, I am so, so sorry, you will have to wait," Alec gasped for breath, "a, um, very long time until you can finally ask your mother all those questions you have. If it's possible at all. Like, it's not something we can know for sure. But, on the other hand, we also cannot know for sure if what your stepfather said was true."

He ruffled through his hair. He was positive he'd never said so much in one go in his whole life. No wonder why. He kind of felt he really should stop. But he found there was more to say.

"For the time being you must accept and understand that you were but a child. A boy. Don't tell yourself it was more than self-defence now that you're an adult just because you've learnt that Warlocks must be evil because of their blood. And if that's not why you're so hard on yourself, if it's because you think there is so much evil in you… Come on. He would've hunted you down. Tortured you, killed you. He probably would've burnt you if you hadn't burnt him first." Alec sighed. "Magnus," he said, shaking his head, "I won't lie. Your story is awful. Mostly, the parents of Warlocks manage somehow. Nothing I say could change that... that yours didn't. I'm sorry. It's useless, but I'm here. I am here."

Magnus was still crying.

"Listen," Alec said. "I've thought about our fixation on blood before. Shadowhunters have Angel blood. Downworlders have Demon blood. If blood is all we are, if there was nothing we could do, why… I mean, why did Jace act so differently when we all thought he had Demon blood? He left, he joined Valentine. He even saved Valentine's life. Okay, maybe only someone with Angel blood would do that... but I wouldn't have, and I, presumably, have Angel blood in me somewhere... Anyay, it was all because he, Jace I mean, – probably we – thought 'he has Demon blood, he must be damned'. That's a flawed logic. Because all the time we thought it true, it wasn't. The contrary was. He has pure angelic blood, Magnus. And that doesn't undo anything bad he did. He doesn't speak much about it, but, Magnus, he must have done terrible things. I know my parabatai. I share his feelings."

Alec reached out and took hold of Magnus's hands. He tugged at them. Magnus obliged and slid to the floor. Alec shuffled aside so they could both sit comfortably. He didn't let go of the Warlock's hands.

"Or why are some Shadowhunters so cruel? Why are some Angels? Why is God? Or are the Gods. Who knows. Demons are evil, that is true. But the higher, the greater the Demon… I mean, I don't know. Maybe it's all rubbish. Clary has Angel blood, too. Clary tried to resurrect her mother with black magic. Something almost anyone would have done. We would do anything, sometimes. I went with her… You know the story."

It was a painful memory for Alec. He still felt he was to blame for Jocelyn's death.

"And, Magnus. Look at Isabelle and Max. Look at how different we are - apart from those similarities we actually do share. The same blood is flowing through our veins. And yet it cannot mean we are one certain way. Isabelle likes to take risks. I am, uhm, uptight. I am gay. Max is wilder and brighter than either of us. And, you know, neither my mom nor my dad are gay. It cannot all be in our blood. Blood is a substance. It changes the mixture, but as long as there are human roots involved, it is only one component of many. Why would it be predominant? Why would it decide absolutely everything? It gives us abilities, yes. But what we do with those – that depends on so much more. You're so much more than your blood, Magnus. You have a singular soul. You care. You take care of others. You," Alec swallowed with difficulty, "you're so you that you made me change my whole life, made me fall for you. I refuse to believe that your soul – any soul – is dependent solely on a substance. You… What you did was something many children with your powers would have done in that moment. I'm sure of it. We call mundanes mundanes because someone once decided we should do so. There is no inherent reason. We call Downworlders Downworlders because a portion of their blood originates from demonic realms, or from hell. And yet, it's the same with humans, with us. We're human, too. So are you. We just don't have your powers. We're not immortal. Well, as Nephilim we have, thanks to our Angel blood, different skills… what I mean is… I mean… there is a difference, but it's not by default in how cruel we are. It's not in what we're capable of. Not necessarily. It always depends on the individual… on the situation… no matter what you are –"

Alec didn't know how to finish. He was rambling. Almost compulsively, he kneaded one of Magnus's hands with his thumbs.

"Alexander."

"I'm not sure what else to say. They are... were... your parents. I didn't mean to be bold or presumptuous or anything… I –. I got you something, Magnus." Alec suddenly remembered. He felt worn-out and embarrassed. So he jumped up and almost ran to where he'd left his bag. He came back and sat cross-legged next to Magnus. He put the gift in his lap. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't even get round to wrapping it." He held it out to the Warlock.

That very same Warlock thought he could feel the earth turning. He'd asked himself whether he was hallucinating. Whether he'd finally fallen asleep without being greeted by another nightmare. But the unpleasant crinkle that caused the hairs in his neck to raise up must be real. He took the bag from Alexander's hands and immediately recognized and identified the familiar shape. He reached into it and drew out the book. He gaped at it. He gaped at Alec. His hands were shaking. "No…" He whispered. In wonder, he saw water drops fall down on the young, well-known wizard with the tasteless glasses. He felt his face start to twitch and tremble again. He closed his eyes. The motion sent off another two small rivers. He could feel them follow the same path all the others had taken. His chest was convulsing. He needed air. But his throat was swollen shut. He felt his ribcage vibrate and spasm.

Alec felt utterly helpless and was out of his depth. He'd hoped to bring Magnus a little joy. Instead, he saw how the Warlock clutched at the book, knuckles white. Was he hyperventilating?

"Magnus, I'm sorry," he said, desperate. "Please, try to calm down. Please. You must breathe. Magnus!"

Alec took hold of the Warlock's chin. "Breathe," he ordered. "Now."

Both drew in air. Alec sharply. Magnus the way Max used to when he'd finally finished sobbing after one of his (rare) rage meltdowns. Alec got up and grabbed the glass Magnus had left on the liquor table. He tramped to the sink with it, was about to empty it out, changed his mind and downed the leftover liquid at once, grimaced with disgust (it was hard alcohol), and refilled the glass with nothing but tap water. Then he stomped back.

"Drink this," he said. Magnus complied without complaining. Alec repeated the procedure. When he made a move to 'buy' a third round, Magnus told him to stop, please, in a low, throaty voice. Alec could hear that Magnus's nose was clogged.

"It's all right," he said. "This time, it's going to be for me." He heard Magnus say something.

"I'm sorry." Alec said from the kitchen, "but you have to speak up a little."

"Thank you, Alexander."

Alec, whose heart was still beating a samba, frowned. "You're welcome?" He rejoined Magnus who'd fallen back, stretched out and now lay flat on his carpet. He took note of how the Warlock, too, was still breathing heavily. Alec didn't think their conversation was altogether over. But he understood that, for the moment, it was. The Harry Potter book lay right next to him. Alec reached out for it and leaned against the blue chair. He moved his legs so that they touched Magnus's. He bit his lip.

"Did I get the right one?" he asked. Magnus confirmed that, yes, he had gotten the right one and, exhausted closed his eyes. Everything Alexander had just said and done had stormed his brain, his heart. Almost violently. Magnus hadn't thought Alexander would... he just hadn't thought he would... stay? He'd thought that he'd leave. That the picture Alexander had of him was so different that he'd be unable to reconcile it with the inhumane cruelty that Magnus hosted somewhere within him, a cruelty Magnus did his best to control.

Alec opened the book. He searched the wall for the clock. "And have you had anything solid besides coffee and alcohol today," he wanted to know. Magnus shook his head. "The Dark Lord Ascending," Alec silently read and immediately thought of Valentine. And he immediately wanted to throw up, but since he'd not eaten anything all day either, it would have been futile. He didn't have much time left. They were going to do it between 11 and 12 pm. Izzy would text him.

"Alidoro's? Later? You could portal us there. If you want. You must eat."

Magnus nodded. "Okay," he said.

And then Alec surprised himself. He skimmed a few pages back, namely to the dedication, and started to read out loud:

The dedication of this book is split seven ways: to Neil, to Jessica, to David, to Kenzie, to Di, to Anne, and to you, if you have stuck with Harry until the very end.

His voice broke with awkwardness, he had to clear his throat. He wasn't used to speaking so clearly. He dared to take a glance at Magnus. He didn't know whether the other's cheeks were still wet from before, or whether he'd started crying again. Alec almost dislocated something as he turned around to grab a cushion. He leaned forward and lifted Magnus's head.

"There you go," he said, shoving the cushion in place. He felt so stupid doing it, but also not. He hesitated. Would Magnus like him to kiss him? He wasn't sure.

"Although," he added, "I'm sorry, if you want to join me for dinner, we don't have a lot of time. Izzy expects me to be ready from 10 onwards… for the transferal. And I still need to get in touch with Catarina Loss."

"No need," Magnus protested. His voice had recovered. "I'm coming."

"Magnus," Alec resumed his former position. "You don't have to. You have every right –"

"To deliver this… this… person straight to the Clave."

Alec breathed out. "It's your decision," he said. He set an alarm. "In that case, let's leave in half an hour."

"Alexander," Magnus said, shyly, drained, "will you continue? Please…"

Alec exhaled again. "That's the plan," he answered.

Chapter one: The Dark Lord Ascending.

Alec tried to pause at the right places.

The two men appeared out of nowhere, a few yards apart in the narrow, moonlit lane. For a second they stood quite still, wands directed at each other's chests; then, recognising each other, they stowed their wands beneath their cloaks and started walking briskly in the same direction. 'News?' asked the taller of the two. 'The best,' replied Severus Snape...

Alec did his best to watch over Magnus as he read. But he didn't dare to stop again until his alarm went off. He dearly hoped Magnus had drifted off at least a little bit, if only for five minutes. When the alarm sounded, Magnus lifted himself up fast. Alec placed the book on the armchair behind him and got to his feet. He still wasn't sure what to do. When he was about to slip into his jacket, he felt a pair of muscular arms curl around his midriff from behind. He put his hands over Magnus's and let his head fall back. He felt there were tears in his eyes, too. But he swallowed them away. Magnus's warm breath felt humid against his skin.

He couldn't supress a puff when Magnus kissed his neck. Neither of them needed to say what they felt.

"We need to eat."

"You're right."

Magnus got ready just as fast. They portalled to Soho. When Izzy's message finally came through, Alec said apologetically: "I'm sorry we couldn't go to your Soho tonight. I promise, forbearance is not acquittance."

The Warlock looked a bit better, but they hadn't spoken much. It was the first time that, tonight, Magnus's expression was one that resembled a smile rather than sadness. Alec's heart jumped a little in his chest. "I'll take you up on that, Alexander," he replied. "We need to go, right?" he said.

"Yes," Alec confirmed. "I'm glad when this is over. You have no idea."

"But Alec," Magnus huffed as he created the portal, "I do."

When Alec wanted to step into it, Magnus, at long last, captured his arms. He pulled him close. Alec's chest tightened. He leaned down and crushed their mouths together. Like last night, Magnus maneuvered them through the portal as they kissed. Like last night, Alec felt queasy, weak in the knees.

"Let's make it a thing," he murmured against the Warlock's lips when they arrived at the corner they usually portalled to when they wanted to get to the Institute.

"Interesting," Magnus said.

Alec shut his eyes, pressed their lips together and felt how the muscles in his face light up with a small grin. He drew Magnus in for a hug. When Magnus tried to free himself, "You cannot want to be late, Alexander" Alec locked him in tighter. He found there was time enough to wait until Magnus's breathing rate seemed halfway okay, until he'd - they'd - calmed down as much as possible. Only then Alec agreed and said:

"Let's get this over and done with."

He and Magnus exchanged a look. They could hear them.

Isabelle came into the room first. Valentine followed after. Then the other guards joined. Alec raised his voice:

"Valentine Morgenstern. By order of the Clave you're hereby remanded to the guard in Idris."

His sister nodded at Magnus. Although Alec didn't take his eyes off Valentine, he could see in the corners of his eyes that Magnus was opening the portal.

Valentine possessed the indecency to speak: "I may be in a cell, but at least I'll be in Alicante." He regarded Magnus with utmost disdain and added spitefully: "Where the air doesn't reek of Downworlders."

Magnus closed his eyes, then looked at Alec. "Fuck you," Alec thought. "Get him out of here," he said resolutely and to no one in particular. Jace and Isabelle locked eyes. They nodded at each other.

In less than a minute, everyone but Magnus and Alec was gone.