Disclaimer: Lyrics belong to Tuomas Holopainen.

A/N: Thank you very much to everyone who read/reviewed/followed/favorited! Seriously, knowing that there are people out there who are enjoying this story is the best motivation that anyone can get!

And to answer NaruSasuxoxoxo's question: I don't wanna spoil the story for you, so I'm not telling. Let's just say Alec and Death's relationship is complicated. :)

R&R!

Chapter Two: Death Doesn't Like Cemeteries

XXX

I am the journey,

I am the destination,

I am the home

The tale that reads you

A way to taste the night,

The elusive high

Follow the madness,

Alice, you know once did

Imaginarium, a dream emporium

Caress the tales

And they will dream you real

A storyteller's game,

Lips that intoxicate

The core of all life

Is a limitless chest of tales...

I am the voice of Never Never Land,

The innocence, the dreams of every man,

I am the empty crib of Peter Pan,

A silent kite against the blue, blue sky,

Every chimney, every moonlit sight

I am the story that will read you real,

Every memory that you hold dear

XXX

Storytime by Nightwish

XXX

The sun shone in hazy dapples against Alec's skin, warming him as he stretched his stiff muscles.

"Rise and shine," Death's overly enthusiastic voice suddenly announced, making Alec to pull his pillow over his head.

"Go. Away."

"You make me feel so loved," answered Death sarcastically, and Alec could hear him move closer to his bed. "But seriously Alexander, you really should get up now. We have a busy day ahead of us."

Alec pulled one side of the pillow away so he could peer up at Death. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Death sighed. "Just come to the living room and you'll understand."

Alec groaned but pushed himself to his feet – rubbing his eyes at the same time – and followed Death out of the door, not bothering to change out of his loose black t-shirt and pajama bottoms.

When Alec stepped into the living room, he wished he had just stayed in bed. The living room looked like a bomb had hit it: the cushions had been ripped from the couch and scattered around the room; the bookshelves had been tipped over, their contents also scattered, and every single one of Jocelyn's paintings had been destroyed.

"What," Alec asked, voice slightly shaking, "what the hell happened?"

"You use the phrase 'what the hell' quite often."

He shot Death a very murderous glare, feeling angry. "What. The. Hell. Happened?!"

Death just looked around, looking bored. "Do you remember what happened after that big fight between your sister and mother?"

"I—" Alec felt his stomach twist. "I went to my room after Clary left with Simon, and you were there – standing by my window – and then you looked at me, and—"

Suddenly Alec felt angrier than he had ever felt before.

"You," he cried out, pointing a finger at Death's face, "you punched me!"

Death ignored his accusing words, and sat down on the ruined couch. "I did what was necessary; I needed you to be unconscious. Besides, I healed you right after. Your pretty face is clear from any bruises."

"I— Oh my god!" Alec looked down and swallowed, feeling horrified. "I was wearing jeans!"

"You lost me," Death said, looking slightly puzzled.

"Jeans! I was wearing jeans! And now I'm wearing pajama bottoms!"

Alec wasn't panicking. He wasn't.

Well, maybe a little.

"Oh, right. Well, guilty as charged."

Alec hadn't ever wanted to hit anybody as much as he did at the moment, but then he remembered Clary and Jocelyn.

"Oh my god, what happened to Clary and Mom?!"

"Clarissa's safe," answered Death, "little shocked perhaps, but safe. Your mommy Jocelyn? Well, she's been better."

"What—"

"Let me finish," Death interrupted, huffing a little, "Jocelyn has not been… well… totally honest with you nor Clarissa."

Alec wrapped his arms around himself protectively. "What do you mean?"

Death just looked at him, holding his gaze unblinkingly. "I think you know, Alexander."

And he did. Alec had known his whole childhood that Jocelyn had been hiding something from him and Clary – something big. He had never asked, but the way she had sometimes acted had been a good indication.

"I never asked… just like I never told her nor Clary about you. It was not my place to question her when she was kind enough to treat me like I was her own blood," he finally whispered softly, closing his eyes, not wanting Death to see his pain. "Some part of me did not even want to know, not really."

Death just sighed, and when Alec opened his eyes again the couch was empty and Death was standing by the front door.

"It is not my place to tell you the truth. Come with me, I'll take you to Clarissa. Just change your clothes first; I mean, the t-shirt is ok, but people will probably stare if you leave the house in your pajama bottoms."

Alec felt like his feet were glued to the floor. He trusted Death, he really did – which was kind of stupid, because, well, he was Death – but Alec was scared what he would find once he stepped out of the building. It was his home, after all – his safe haven.

"Your world is going to change. Your and Clarissa's. There's only so long you can hide from the truth."

The moment was broken by his growling stomach.

"What— oh my god, I'm so hungry!"

"Oh did I not tell you? You were out like a candle for three whole days," Death replied, shrugging as he opened the door. "Apparently I can throw a very mean punch."

"WHAT?!"

XXX

"Where are we going?" Alec asked trying to keep up with Death's fast pace at the same time.

"You'll see."

Alec chewed his lip. He wanted to yell Death some more, but they were outside and normal people couldn't see Death, and Alec didn't want to look crazy.

Though he did, in fact, doubt his own sanity every now and then.

"We have been walking the whole day," he quietly complained as they crossed yet another road. "Can you at least slow down a little? You have longer legs than I."

"Stop complaining; we also used the subway. And besides, we cannot be late."

"Late from what?" Alec asked, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to calm down. "Death, please."

"Patience Alexander, patience."

Alec was just going to tell Death were to stuff his patience when Death suddenly stopped, making Alec's body connect with his back.

"Shit!" Alec cried out, earning himself weird looks from people passing by. "Next time you suddenly stop walking, please warn me," he hissed out loud, holding his head.

"Quiet."

Death was staring intently at something, standing totally still – like a marble statue. Alec followed his gaze, spotting an elderly man with a walking stick, walking slowly towards him and Death. His movements were uncoordinated, and he was gripping his chest with his other hand.

"Death, please tell me you're not going to—"

Suddenly Death strolled forward, totally ignoring him. All the color drained from the old man's face as his eyes met Death's. He didn't stand a chance – no one did against Death.

Blink.

Only one touch from Death was enough; one blink later the man was already lying on the ground, dead.

Someone started screaming, but Alec just stared numbly at Death, who in turn stared at the body for a while before turning and walking back to him.

Death had collected the soul. Without it the man's destiny was sealed; no one could save him but Death. And Death didn't save people, he just took their lives.

He was the Grim Reaper, after all.

It wasn't the first time Alec witnessed someone's death. With Death as his best friend, it was impossible not to see him in action. But it didn't mean Alec had to like it – in fact, Alec was sure he would never be okay with it.

He saw Death all the time but most people saw him only once – just before their death.

"Sorry for the delay," Death said after he was close enough. "Let's carry on."

Alec was silent for the rest of their walk, walking with his eyes trained resolutely on the ground.

XXX

The moon was high and pale in the sky by the time Death finally stopped walking.

Right in front of a heavy wrought iron gate, trellised with dark vines.

"You brought me to the New York City Marble Cemetery," Alec deadpanned, turning to look at Death who was standing next to him. "Seriously. This is wrong on so many levels."

"Yes," Death answered, ignoring his last statement and tilting his face towards the moon. "And we're early. Good."

Then he turned to look back at Alec. "Alexander, do you remember all those bedtime stories I told you when you were younger?"

Alec was sure he had never felt more confused. "Yes, yes of course I do. Why?"

"Well." Death hummed softly. "They weren't just stories."

"You mean," Alec asked, bemused, "that Peter Pan is a real person?"

Death gave him an odd look. "Alexand— Alec. Let's pretend you seriously didn't just ask that." He sighed, turning his eyes towards the gate. "I meant, you remember what I've told you about demon hunters?"

"Shadowhunters," Alec corrected automatically, crossing his arms across his chest protectively. "Yeah, I do. Wait, you mean—?"

"Yes. Shadowhunters, demons, warlocks, vampires, werewolves, faeries— you name it. They're all real."

"Oh my god." Alec felt like fainting. "You mean, that woman in the park with wings—?"

"She's a good example. I'm pretty sure she was a warlock."

"Oh."

Alec took a deep breath, trying to realign his thoughts.

"So—"

"Clarissa is a Shadowhunter. And so was Jocelyn, once upon a time."

"Oh."

Everything Death had said was surreal, though Alec knew that Death hadn't lied – after all Alec had seen odd things his entire life.

"Wait a minute," Alec started, "You said earlier that it is not your place to tell me the truth. What changed your mind?"

"I didn't tell you the whole truth," Death said, and opened the gate. "Just some facts. I do care about your happiness – I'm not totally heartless, you know."

Alec blushed, biting his lip. "My happiness?"

"I know you don't like it when you don't know something. I told you some facts so that when you meet Clarissa and her sarcastic knight in shining leather you don't seem like a total idiot."

"Umm…."

Death quirked an eyebrow at him, suddenly smiling. "I want you to go to the Bone City with Clarissa."

Alec startled. "You want me to go…"

"To the Bone City yes, you heard correctly. Unfortunately, I cannot come with you."

"Why not?" Alec didn't understand. "And what city? You do realize that this is a cemetery?"

"I cannot come because I don't like cemeteries," Death stated, making a moue of distaste, "so yes, I do realize that the New York City Marble Cemetery is, in fact, a cemetery. I'm the Grim Reaper, not an idiot."

"You don't like cemeteries?" Alec deadpanned. "You are Death and you don't like cemeteries?!"

"Cemeteries have this inhospitable atmosphere; it's not very welcoming."

"I— Never mind, I don't even wanna know." Alec sighed, and walked through the gate. He turned to look at Death over his right shoulder. "What's the real reason you don't come with me?"

Death's smile was as sharp as razors.

Suddenly Alec was standing by the gate all by himself.

XXX

The muted morning light was still new in the sky as Alec started to twirl a blade of grass between his fingers.

He had been sitting on the ground – front of a big marble monument – for the past six hours. Six. Fucking. Hours.

His legs were numb, he was very thirsty, and his stomach felt like it was eating itself.

'Time crawls like a snail.'

"Dammit Clary, where are you?" he murmured, watching the wind ruffle the leaves of the trees at the edge of the cemetery.

Alec was ready to leave when he heard a rhythmic sound of hooves hitting the ground. He raised his head only to see two horses – black as smoke – stopping right in front of him. They were pulling a pitch black carriage, and on the driver's bench sat a tall man who was dressed in a parchment-colored robe, his face hidden beneath its hood.

'Talk about a dramatic entrance.'

Alec barely had time to stand up before the carriage's door swung open and an angel jumped down from it.

Well not an angel – just a boy who looked like one. His curly hair gleamed like brass in the sunlight, and his frame was slim yet muscular; he was inhumanly handsome.

Luckily Death was also unnaturally good-looking, so Alec wasn't too amazed by the angelic boy.

But he did stare long enough to meet the boy's golden eyes.

"Robert?!"

TBC...