A/N: As promised, chapter four! Thank you to all who reviewed, favorited, followed, etc.! I hope you enjoy the chapter! Thanks so much!

. 4 .

When Magnus finally came out of the bedroom, he found Robert pacing near one of the many bookshelves in their grand living room. Maryse and Isabelle sat together on the couch, a box of Kleenex set between them nearly empty. Jace stood alone on the opposite side of the room as if he was trying to distance himself. When the family noticed the warlock entering, they all turned to him with expectant eyes. All except Jace. He remained alone in the corner avoiding Magnus's gaze—though he didn't have to. The warlock kept his eyes locked on the floor at his feet, his fingers lacing together behind his back. His eyes had bags under them and he felt weak from using so much magic, his hair no longer the spikes of perfection, but rather a messy mop that hung in his eyes. He had shed most of the clothing he'd arrived in and now stood barefoot in jeans and an electric blue V-neck.

"Alexander is alive," he answered to the silence. There was a moment of relief before he went on, "He is weak. I have no knowing of when he will wake…if ever…"

"But you just said he was healed—" Maryse interjected in a panicked voice.

He silenced the woman with his gaze. "I said he was alive. I never said he had regained consciousness. He has severe head trauma and is currently in a coma. Some never wake from such a thing." He took a steady breath to calm himself and closed his tired eyes. "He had some internal bleeding, but it is well taken care of as is the gash in the back of his head. There is no way of knowing whether or not there is further damage until he wakes…" He swallowed, trying to work up the courage to go on. "And, I, for one, am exhausted. However, I refuse to leave him in the case that he shows further symptoms of any kind and needs my assistance." Looking at Robert, his voice was hesitant and dreadful, "May I reside here until further notice?"

"By all means," Maryse replied graciously. Robert, however, hesitated before giving a stiff nod.

Magnus nodded and looked at Jace with a puzzled expression. "How do you feel?"

"Terrible," Jace scoffed. "I feel like a part of me is dying."

"A part of you is dying," Magnus replied somberly. "If you feel any difference in this," he tapped his parabatai rune, "Notify me immediately."

Jace nodded, his hand instinctively rubbing over the rune. Magnus turned to the rest of the Lightwood family and sighed deeply, "I am going to retire now and possibly attempt to sleep. If you somehow find that you require my abilities of any sort other than Alexander, please, don't bother me."

He started for the bedroom once again, but stopped abruptly and spun on his heel to face them once again. "And, for God's sake, if the Clave comes do not let them in my sight."

oooOOOooo

Magnus paced for numerous hours that night. He pondered whether or not to sit in the uncomfortable chair beside the bed or to keep pacing. Though, honestly speaking, there was nothing more that Magnus wanted than to curl up beside his Shadowhunter on the bed.

Magnus looked away from him, but Alec took his face in his hands and gave him a small smile, "Hey. I'll be back tonight; it isn't like I'm leaving you forever."

A tear slid down the warlock's face.

Promise me you'll be safe.

I promise.

He sank down into a crouch on the floor with his head in his hands as he cried. Magnus wanted to shake him in that moment and scream: You promised! You promised me you'd stay safe! You promised you wouldn't leave me!

Giving in to his exhaustion, Magnus knelt on the floor beside the bed that caressed his lover, mocking him by doing what the warlock so desperately wanted. He'd seen people sitting in chairs beside the ones they cared for and every time they did the person seemed to die, to leave them behind. Magnus refused to be left behind.

The boy looked actually somewhat peaceful in the dimly lit room. His hair was soaked with sweat and plastered to his glistening face as his chest rose and fell in a steady but slow…so slow…rhythm and his lips were parted slightly. Magnus took his lover's hand and cringed at how cold it was. He had found splinters of wood in his palms and, though they were gone now, he had wondered just how it was that his Shadowhunter—the balanced, forever calm and collected Shadowhunter—fell from the rafters. He'd obviously tried to hold on and prevent the fall, and he knew the boy was capable of doing numerous pull-ups, but why hadn't he been able to at that particular moment when it counted most? Perhaps there wasn't enough time before his momentum tore him from his vantage point...Yes, that was the only thing that made a smidge of sense to Magnus.

"Dearest Shadowhunter, what were you doing?" he whispered, clutching the boy's hand and bringing it up to his lips. "I told you not to go, I told you."

"It wasn't his fault," a voice said form behind the warlock.

Magnus didn't even turn. "I didn't even hear you come in."

"You're tired," Robert offered. It hardly seemed like an appropriate excuse. He heard the door close and Robert hesitantly came closer to the pair. His eyes accessed his son and his voice was quiet, "He looks thinner…"

"My apartment hardly has the room for Shadowhunter training."

"Perhaps that's why he fell."

The words stung and Magnus flinched. He looked up at Alec's father, trying to read him. The man's gaze was stone cold as he continued, "I know you plan on taking him away again. By doing so you may in fact just be killing him."

"Are you blaming me for this?"

Robert held the warlock's gaze. "He should never have fallen…"

Magnus stood suddenly and whirled on the man. "Don't you think I know that?" he screamed. "Don't you think I've asked myself the same questions you have? Why did he fall? I don't know, Robert, why did he? Was he pushed? Did he jump? Or maybe he just slipped? I don't know!" Tears began to fall down his cheeks and he swallowed uncomfortably, his voice quieter now. "Maybe it is my fault. But I never forced him to stay with me, Robert. You pushed him away. He missed his mother, his sister, and his brother. And as much as it kills me, he still missed you. No matter what, Alexander is still your son, Mr. Lightwood. Treat him as such."

Robert stood still as a statue at the end of the bed, his hard gaze on Alec. He took a deep breath. "Everything was fine until you came. Because of you, my son has disgraced himself before the Clave. The only reason he still has his Marks is because the Clave has its priorities. And since you have refused to aid us in the search for Valentine's son—"

"I've told you," Magnus growled, "He cannot be traced. I cannot help you. I prefer not to get involved in the Clave's problems unless absolutely necessary. I hate politics."

"Yet you supposedly love my son…" Mr. Lightwood drawled. He shook his head, clearly giving up trying to convince the warlock of anything he had come for. Instead, he turned his attention back to his son. "When do you expect him to wake?"

"I said I have no knowing of when he'll wake," the warlock replied lowly. "I already told you that…And you, Robert, were the one who requested that such a thing be done to Alexander. You suggested that the Clave take your own son's Marks. No one else."

Robert stood stiffly for a moment before he looked the warlock up and down, accessing him. "You look like shit," he stated.

"Thank you. I really needed someone to point that out." He looked down at Alec once again, "Using all your magic to save a life can do that to you."

Mr. Lightwood swallowed and strode towards the door once again. He hesitated for a moment, but then continued out the door, closing it behind him. Magnus curled up in the chair beside Alexander's bed. It was uncomfortable and cramped, but he made do. Clutching his lover's hand, the warlock fell into a very light sleep.

I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I lost you.