Magnus stood before the institute, his slicked black hair drenched in the oncoming downpour that hovered over Brookyln. The coat he had grabbed, a dark blue trench that clashed terribly with his black sweatpants was so soaked that he didn't think it would ever get dry, but no matter. It had been Alec's anyway. Alec had never come round to get his things, and Magnus had been sitting, surrounded by them for days.

Perhaps it had been masochistic, laying half drunk on his couch where they had sat so many times, reliving the memories that plagued him with every passing day. At first, they had been accompanied by a burning anger, and he had started ripping up pictures he had gotten from their vacation in Europe. But eventually, he would always tape them back together. Cling to them like they were the only thing anchoring him to the real world.

The High Warlock of Brooklyn, who never waited for anyone, was standing in the midst of an enormous thunderstorm, ringing the doorbell. An odd thought struck him. Why can't Shadowhunters just get a buzzer?. Hello, this is Isabelle Lightwood, go screw yourselves. And seriously, don't come back. Hello, this is Wayland. Jace Wayland. Or, if you prefer. Lightwood. Jace Lightwood. Or, for variety, Don't-you-dare-that-cost-more-than-you're-worth. I go by all three.

Hello, this is Alec Lightwood. I'm probably trying to pick which ratty sweater to wear today right now, please come back at a later time.

Alec.

His heart started fluttering in his chest, beating way too fast for something that had to last as long as it did. What would he say? Could he just apologize, and get it over with? Something told him that what he had done couldn't be fixed with a couple of words- but surely Alec hadn't believed him. Weeks and months of him telling him how in love he was, what he would do for him; it couldn't have all gone to waste in a mere second, just like that, could it?

He rang the doorbell again. The regular Magnus would have probably crossed his arms and started tapping his foot. Maybe send a fire message to tell them to hurry up. Yell at the people inside the door about how he was on a tight schedule and didn't have time for this crap. But today was a personal call, something he couldn't stand waiting for but knew he had to. So he just stood there instead, running one hand through his hair to try to make himself look decently presentable. He probably resembled a starving rat that stumbled into a pond, but there was nothing he could do about that.

The door to the institute was so wonderfully familiar it felt like he was stranded outside his own house, like the time he had forgotten his key in the 19th century and had been forced to blast his custom made mahogany door in with a fireball. Best way to greet your boyfriend ever, he decided. Hey, I'm sorry for breaking up with you and smashing your 200 year old door in, but will you forgive me? Alec would slam the door in his face. Or…Not, considering he wouldn't have one.

After several minutes of waiting impatiently, and wringing his hands -Magnus Bane wringing his hands?- the door to the institute opened slowly, wide blue eyes peering out from behind it. The same deep purple bags hung under them, mirroring Magnus's. Alec always had been an insomniac. There were just too many thoughts in his head to let him sleep at night, Magnus had always thought.

Opening the door entirely, Magnus could see that he had caught Alec at a superbly bad time. Hair more mussed and just as wet as his own, the boy had obviously just stepped out of the shower. When was the last time the warlock had taken anything close to a shower? Probably right before they broke up, over a week ago. The rain had washed away his stink, but it was easy to see Alec was handling this a lot better than him.

He had reverted to his old wardrobe, wearing a moth worn sweatshirt that had probably been black once. There was no trace of Magnus's influence anywhere on his persona. It was like he had never happened. They had never happened.

That's what Magnus thought, at least, until he saw his smile. It was the most agonizing smile that he had ever seen, stretched and thin, the lips held up with puppet strings. Like some invisible force tugged on the corners of the boy's mouth, making them convulse upwards against his own will. Magnus had grown good at reading people over the years, one of his few natural talents. And the empty look that that grin reflected on Alec's face was so paper thin and transparent that it broke Magnus's heart, splitting it in two.

And then it was like someone had taken a pair of scissors and just –snip- his smile fell of his face and shattered on the rough stone steps. He twitched, his eyebrows briefly angling upwards, the lines of his face deepening. For just a second; then it was gone, replaced again by his marionette smile.

"What brings you to the institute, Warlock Bane?"

Oh god. Warlock Bane. Magnus had really done a number here, hadn't he? It was worse than he had ever thought. He had never expected Alec to fling open the door and kiss him on the spot, but at least retain some sort of familiarity with him. He knew that Magnus still loved him, the warlock had said that when he broke his own heart. Not that it makes a difference.

It does.

"…Alec..." He choked, his voice barely coming out of his throat. Covering his mouth with one hand, he blinked away the mist that threatened to overcome his eyes. What had he done?

"I came to apologize, Alec. For everythin-"

"I know what we had was a mistake Magnus. You don't need to apologize for not loving me." Alec was looking Magnus in his slit pupil eyes, a sure sign that he wasn't lying. Pale complexion unstained by a blush, he was dead serious. Alec never could lie, so Magnus could deduce that he was dead serious, believing really and truly believing everything he said.

Every word that came out of Alec's mouth was calculated and clipped. Like he had practiced, rehearsed what he would say.

Magnus acted without thinking, closing the distance between them in one stride, his long legs eliminating the gap instantaneously. One hand reached up, and Alec paled even further.

Slap!

The noise rang out in the relative silence that had always seemed so unusual for New York. An angry red mark stained Alec's perfect skin, a shape for shape imprint of Magnus's hand. He took a step back, holding a disbelieving hand to where the blotch stood out against his pale skin. It stuck out like a sore thumb, and his baby blue eyes widened, a mildly shocked expression taking hold of his face.

"How. Dare. You. Alec Lightwood. How can you say that? How can you just stand there? Dammit, I thought you knew that I loved you the entire time."

"Loved?" Alec echoed emptily. He cringed. Bad choice of word.

"Love. Present tense, Alec. And it does make a difference. Not because I'm Magnus, not because you're a Shadowhunter, but because you're you. Imperfect, flawless Alec."

Alec's mouth set into a hard line, and he turned, showing his back to the man. Removing his hand from his face, he starting pulling the door closed behind him.

"It seems you have the wrong person, Warlock Bane. And please do not return, it seems that you're a bit behind on etiquette. But who am I to scold? I wouldn't want to make you feel like a pet, after all." The last of his mini-speech was so full of venom, that Magnus found himself dumbstruck. His very own words, made to inflict pain on Alec, were now being flung back against him with the same purpose in mind. "Goodbye," He whispered.

The door slammed.

Magnus crumpled on the street, not even noticing the absent drops of rain that splattered his shoulders and he lay on the steps of the institute. He felt as if he was falling into himself, folding until there was nothing left.

Maybe that would be better, if there wasn't anything left to hurt.

Blinking, he stood up abruptly. What was he thinking? He had survived the 80's- how could one breakup put thoughts of suicide in his head? It wasn't just a breakup, he knew, but it was always Magnus's thing to try and fix something until it worked, not give up halfway through.

That wasn't what struck him as particularly odd, though. The voice had sounded remarkably like Alec's.