Title: Stay In The Present With Me
Pairing: Malec
Prompt: Nightmare/near panic attack caused by bad memories.
Words: 451
Summary: Magnus never talks of his past. What's done is done, and he shouldn't let it control him, so he lets some things stay forgotten. It might be unhealthy, but it worked. It's one of those nights, when the memories come rushing back, only this time there's someone with him.
POV: Magnus
Warning(s): Major mentions of abusive childhood
A/N: Wrote this while listening to Skyfall (idk the mood's just inspiring). My heart clenched while writing this though… Poor Magnus. He really deserves better :( Took some liberty with the details; I haven't read the books yet so please forgive any minor inaccuracies ^^; This chapter falls a bit on the shorter side, too, sorry. -Spruce
Hey people! I agree with Spruce this is a sad fic, and I think Magnus deserved a better childhood, but that's his life ;-; - Divergentshadowhunter909
*If you have any prompts or suggestions for things you'd like to see in future chapters, feel free to drop a comment or review! We'd love new ideas!
Chapter text:
Darkness. It's all he knows now. The images start flashing behind his eyelids again—the memories. But are they? He isn't sure anymore. It feels real. He doesn't recognize the structures materializing before him, but they seem familiar. Something about the tropical climate and the smell of wet earth rang a bell in his mind somewhere. Some distant part of his conscience tells him that this isn't real, that no, he isn't a child anymore, but he doesn't hear it. Ah, that's right, he's here again—home.
But then, his stepfather's face, eyes cold and disgusted, his hands closing around his throat as he pushed him under the surface of the water and he trashes, trying to escape his grip, but he can't breathe and his limbs are heavy and sluggish and his lungs are screaming. His mother's gaze, no better. Her son was a vile, disgusting thing. He wasn't wanted. He was a mistake. The result of something horrible that had happened to her. He was worthless. And he knew that—they made sure of it.
Then his stepfather's eyes again, cold and dead. His hands are shaking, blue flames retreating. He didn't mean to. He didn't mean to. His mother, screaming in horror. Then he's running, as fast as his legs can carry him, and he doesn't stop until his knees buckle underneath him from exhaustion and he doubles over on the dirt, crying. Defeated.
Why was he still alive? He didn't deserve it. He was a monster. He should be the one dead. He should have drowned in the river, like his parents wanted him to. Right? It would have been so much easier. He shouldn't have fought back… right?
"No."
Suddenly the icy cold that had hung heavy on him all throughout was replaced with warmth, embracing him whole.
He cracked open his eyes.
He was shaking. His cheeks were streaked with tears. The sheets were thrown about, his legs tangled with them. Alec was holding him. He was shaking, too. Whether with anger or sadness, Magnus didn't know. His strong arms were keeping him impossibly close to him, Magnus's head tucked under his chin.
"Don't you ever think that again," He whispered, his hands rubbing soothing circles on Magnus's shoulders and back. "Or I'll kill you myself." The joke fell dry in the air.
"How much…" Magnus tried softly. "How much did you hear me say?" He tipped his head up to look at Alec, golden eyes still wet, unglamoured in a moment of weakness.
"Not much, but enough." He answered, voice watery. He wound his arms even tighter around Magnus. "Magnus, I love you so much. Please don't ever forget that." Magnus smiled.
"Sorry. I won't, I promise."