I'm in the shadow of the sun where I belong.

And I'll be keeping secrets 'till I'm in the ground.

Shadow of the Sun – Max Elto (Acoustic Ver.)


The streets were eerily quiet of demons when just half an hour ago a frantic Raj who had been passing by the area had ran back to the Institute to report to Lydia. Where had all the demons gone? Still, Magnus followed Alexander and the rest along the familiar gravel road, knowing where it led.

It was a place Magnus had been avoiding for good reason after killing Camille and he was none too pleased when the emergency call came through and Alexander's group was the one sent to help. Seriously, what was Lydia thinking?

"They're short on people, Magnus. You can't expect Lydia to coddle us since she doesn't know the truth."

And while Magnus was far from the first person to admit he was wrong, he felt a surge of guilt from what Alexander had told him. It effectively snapped his mouth shut and he hadn't said a word since. He sincerely doubted that Alexander was trying to hurt him, probably was just being as blunt as ever. But he wouldn't deny that it didn't hurt either way.

After the eventful forsaken attack, the patrols were their usual humdrum and the leads on Jace still led to absolutely nothing. The whole thing became worse with the lack of further dates or affection from Alexander. It seemed that as the days piled on without Jace, the boy was withdrawing from everything and everyone except for Clave and Institute duties. Magnus would try to be understanding, really, but to be ignored after a good start in their relationship having had to deal with so much bad first, he couldn't help but think that they would go back to how they were before the non-wedding. If it hadn't already, in any case, as Alexander had already started brushing his concern and assurances off.

Sure, he knew his assurances were useless because he couldn't help tracking Jace - no one could. He just didn't like the way Alexander was starting to close off and wanted to do whatever he could. Of course, it wasn't enough, however. When was he ever enough without his magic in any case? Usually, he'd feel bitter especially after his relationship with Camille but now... Now, it just made sense somehow because he understood that he really was useless to Alexander currently where Jace is concerned.

All he could offer to Alexander was his helping hand and his healing magic for when one of the Shadowhunters got hurt. Well, that and protection... There had been no need previously but presently... They were nearing the Hotel Dumort and his nerves were creeping up at him once more. Demons aside, the vampires would be extremely hostile to the Nephilim.

As subtly as he could, he cast a protective spell around Alexander and the rest of them. It was feeble for such an impromptu magic but it would hold off anything for a second and really, that was important.

"Oh my god." Clary suddenly gasped, eyes wide in horror when Magnus turned to her. He followed the direction of her gaze and swallowed audibly.

The doors to the Hotel Dumort were wide open – something that never happened. And barrelling in were a slew of different types of demons. It was a full-frontal attack that Magnus was seeing with cold blood rushing through his veins.

Raphael.

He felt a hand grab his bicep tightly stopping him from surging forth and followed the arm to its owner. "Alexander?" His voice sounded distant but he ignored it in favour of learning why the boy was stopping him from saving his friend.

"Magnus, there's too many." Came the Nephilim's tight voice.

Too many for you, Magnus wanted to retort but he didn't. Instead he said, "I'm the High Warlock of Brooklyn. If Downworlders are in danger, I will help them."

Hazel eyes shifted from the scene at the Dumort and then to him. "We'll help."

Magnus took a moment to register that that would be a horrible idea but apparently, he took too long as when he finally opened his mouth to dissuade the boy, the Shadowhunters were already racing towards the Dumort with their runed speed.

Taking a deep breath to reign in his warring emotions, Magnus rushed after them. Thankfully, the stream of demons had ceased and it seemed his only worry had to be on the enemies currently tearing apart the Hotel and its residents.

Using the same magic he employed that time Alexander helped him get rid of a Circle member, he blasted a few demons out of his path. His eyes were roaming around in search for the boy, disregarding the sparks of red that meant the demons had been cast back into Edom. Another slew of blasts here and there and he was only five steps away from his Alexander.

His body tensed and he ducked as a swipe of claw tore the air his head was occupying just a millisecond ago. He lashed out immediately and killed the demon but another was upon him then another and another until he didn't know – couldn't understand what his hands were doing. The only things he knew was that he was succeeding in killing them all and he was having a rough time keeping up toning down his magic up until the moment a group of Shax demons managed to body slam him into the side of a table.

Magnus gasped and arched in pain, his throat sounding a barely-there scream. He hung his head back, unable to stop his reflex of trying to shy away from the edge digging painfully into his tailbone despite the fact that it was pressing him up against the vile demons. A slash to his stomach made him wince and then he felt the demons trying to get a grip on him.

"Oh, fuck no." He cursed. Did they think they could drag him away to lay eggs in him? "Don't you dare." Firstly, he was male. Secondly, he was a damn warlock. Why were demons so terribly stupid? He directed his magic to holding the Shax demons away just enough but he knew his willpower would wane soon. Protecting against attacks were always harder than attacking. If only he could use his powers without restraint… However he ceased struggling when he saw the beautiful sight above him.

"Magnus!" Alexander, in all his Shadowhunter grace, was soaring in an arch through the air. The boy tucked into himself then unfolded to land steadily on his feet in front of Magnus in order to stab the demons efficiently, eradicating them from existence in their dimension. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." Magnus let himself be tugged closer and then he was engulfed by warmth, his heart soaring from the unexpected show of affection. "Alexander." He murmured breathlessly, sinking into the embrace. His eyes scanned their surroundings, noting that demons were starting to encroach upon their space once more. Then he dropped his eyes to the body enveloping his and nearly gasped at the big tear on the boy's clothes and the bloody gash on pale skin.

Quickly, he lifted his hand, sparks dancing above his fingertips but was jarred by Alexander stepping out of the hug to heal anything. So instead, when the boy swivelled to face the incoming demons, he leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on Alexander's nape, fingers trailing down the boy's bloody back, healing the deep cut and smiled to himself seeing the boy stiffen then relax.

When he started blasting his magic at the demons again, he did it happily.

And so it went on.

Until Magnus found himself boxed into a corner with Iblis demons snarling at him. He snapped his head up and met Alexander's tired eyes far behind the shoulder of a demon and only then did he realise the true nature of the attack. There were too many demons in his and Alexander's side of the room. It was painfully obvious now that he could see the whole room. He and Alexander were the targets. Now, why didn't Magnus think about that? Clearly, being with the Nephilim was changing his view on things. He was so hell bent on eradicating demons to even wonder why. Stupid.

But he had no time to dwell on it, he needed to act fast. If the Nephilim stayed, Alexander would be in danger and essentially protecting him. That wouldn't do. He wouldn't stand by and allow any of them to get hurt for him. Especially not Alexander. He'd take the demons on by himself.

Magnus fisted his hand in front of him and uncurled his fingers with a jerk, miming what throwing a baseball would seem like. A ball of blue fire hurtled into the air and split into missiles, taking out the demons blocking his view of Alexander who was charging in with a raised seraph blade.

The boy stopped in his tracks with a prideful look and the beginnings of a smirk. And much as Magnus would have liked to bask in it or, indeed, wonder if the boy wouldn't be so opposed to his power so long as he kept his demonic side in wraps, he needed the Nephilim out of the Dumort and its bloodbath. He mouthed a quick "sorry" to Alexander and pushed his hands out in front of him, palm out.

Magical wind push out from his palms and he saw the surprise on Alexander's face, heard the shocked yells from the girls, as the invisible force threw them all out of the Dumort. He watched them go and almost regretted it; he saw vividly Alexander's shocked, betrayed and worried look.

Alexander was, most definitely, not happy. He'd face the boy's stern lecture again when they meet up later. He'd probably endure being shouted at a bit as well since they had just talked about him shutting them, the Shadowhunters, out when things got too dangerous. It was sweet how Alexander cared, truly, but he couldn't function properly in their plain sight.

The doors of the Hotel Dumort banged close with an intimidating and final boom, locking the Nephilim out and Magnus in. All at once the demons had their shining eyes on him and Magnus grimaced. Shit. Where was Raphael and why hadn't he seen the rest of the vampires?

He sincerely hoped he didn't lock himself in with just the demons chasing after him. This would be a great story to tell… if he lived to tell it.

He quickly pivoted and ran out of the room and into the next – a ballroom. He rushed to an empty corner, had one second to take in the darkness and utter chaos and noise and – he sighed in relief – the vampires before demons started descending upon him once more.

The demons were grinning almost as if they thought they had the upper hand now that he was fighting alone with no one watching out for his back. It dented his ego and his pride. He got rid of them neatly as he concentrated on pulling down every barrier he put up around the massive swirl of magic stored inside him.

Here, amongst Downworlders, he was safe to be who he was.

Here, he could be Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn, at his full capacity.

It was as if there was a pause in time. One moment Magnus was standing, blending in with the shadows and the next, he had unleased his chains, releasing the full extent of his powers. An eerie blue glow lit him up, his golden-green cat eyes gleamed, navy smoke curled around his body and his hands dangerously started sparking bright blue.

Magnus ducked as he felt a swipe of claw from beside him. His magic reacted instinctively and he turned to see a demon burst into flames. With speed he rarely used, he had his back to the wall and took his time to scan the room.

The vampires and demons were fighting in the dark. He could make out red sparks every now and then when a demon was disposed of but with his cat eyes out he could see more than that.

It was a blood fest. Blood was everywhere, spilled on the floor, flying in the air in symmetrical crescents, on writhing bodies and unmoving ones laid about like ragdolls. It congealed on the marble surface, black and green and red, filled the Hotel with its pungent scent of rusting steel, sulphur and sweetness.

Magnus swallowed, his throat convulsing and his nostrils flaring. His demonic side was flickering like a candle light inside of him, enticed by the smell of destruction. He forcefully shut a mental door to it and started walking, flicking his hands in the air when demons came too close to his immediate vicinity. His cat eyes darted side to side, rapidly cataloguing every scene, vampire and demon, in search for his friend, Raphael.

Then he saw him and a smile spread on his face, true and genuine. Raphael was in his element, fangs bared in a grin of abandonment as he lost himself into his vampiric nature. His eyes were bright and hard, his body elegant as he reached out towards demon after demon, thrusting them back to their realm.

"Raphael." Magnus called out through the carnage and the Spanish boy's eyes met his immediately. And then he was there, his back right in front of Magnus. They danced together in the centre of the ballroom, their refined sophistication belying their deadly expeditious accuracy as red sparks started raining down around them incessantly.

After a moment, Raphael drew closer to the warlock. "Magnus, your magic will run low if you keep fighting and we may have need of it later on."

Magnus hummed in agreement and raised his hand, upturned and open. The Honjo Masamune sword slowly materialised, glowing blue, and Magnus' long slim fingers wrapped around its grip.

Raphael scoffed. "If you want to be helpful, just give me my damn dagger."

Magnus grinned and swung his sword to the side, slicing through a demon, and lifted his other hand in which a Bundeswehr advanced combat knife appeared, similarly glowing blue.

Their weapons had long since been imbued with warlock magic to be effective in killing demons, Downworlders and Shadowhunters – and mundanes although anything would kill them. As a result, the sword and knife always glowed blue. In the past, when he fought alongside Nephilim using it, he would have to valiantly lie that he channelled his magic through it – a believable lie and the Shadowhunters never bothered questioning it because why would they? When did Downworlder workings ever matter if it wasn't an unforgivable threat to them? Naturally, they wouldn't know he could kill them just as easily as he did with the demons they dispatched together.

Raphael quickly swiped it and they returned to fighting.

It was hours, maybe even the whole night, before the fight ended. Raphael was rounding up his vampires, checking on them and sending them off to drink blood if they were hurt. In the middle of the room were three vampires bound together by a glowing blue rope; Magnus' magic.

Magnus was slumped on a couch, healed and thoroughly exhausted with his sword balanced on top of his chest precariously as his eyes drooped. He tiredly watched as Raphael finally made his way back to him, a frown on his lips.

The Spanish boy threw himself on the couch, kicking his feet up ill-manneredly. "Dios."

Amused, Magnus poked his old friend's thigh and smirked when the vampire squirmed away. "In the interest of vampire politics, am I still unwelcome here?"

Raphael snorted. "If you were, would you leave?" He sighed and swung his legs to the floor, resting his elbows on top of his knees and burying his head in his hands. "Rogue vampires trying to undermine me – kill me. And you."

"And Alexander..." Magnus murmured. Fighting against demons was as easy as breathing air. So easy in fact that he had plenty of time to ponder exactly why he, Raphael and Alexander were targeted. And he knew why. He had been ignoring the problem for as long as he could but, as expected, everything was bound to get ugly fast.

Raphael assured him Alexander was in no danger but if rogue vampires were in the picture, well, being a Nephilim wouldn't save the boy anymore. Then, his association with the Shadowhunters was angering many and the fact that he had a relation with one was earning him "no favours" as Raphael had said. Equally, Raphael's friendship with him was earning the Spanish boy no favours. It didn't exactly help that quite recently, he just rubbed salt into the gaping wound by accompanying Alexander and his group whenever they were out and about, protecting them like a pet warlock.

A pet warlock to the Nephilim when he was supposed to be the High Warlock of Brooklyn for the Downworlders.

Oh, it wasn't lost to him how far he'd fallen. He had wanted the thoughts to haunt him further in the future and not so near to when he had just gotten Alexander in his arms. But everything was against them and though valiantly he and Alexander fought, everything just seemed to curse their relationship harder.

"We will talk later." Raphael cut through his musings, standing up. "I will deal with the prisoners then I will deal with you. I'll see you in my bedroom."

Magnus found a tiny joy in himself to smirk at his old friend. "Yes, you will." He replied silkily in an exaggeratedly suggestive tone. The exasperated roll of the eyes he received warmed his chest.


"You are an absolute idiota." Raphael stormed into the bedroom, throwing off his tattered blazer onto the floor. He perched on the edge of the blood red sofa opposite of the bed and swung his legs to hang off the arm, kicking the air in an agitated fashion.

Magnus rolled his eyes. "You're always a pleasure, Raphael." He snapped his fingers and a drink appeared in the Spanish boy's hand.

"No, you have mierda para los cerebros. Shit for brains. What gave you the brilliant idea to fall for a Nephilim?" Raphael swirled his glass of Bloody Mary carefully.

"It happens." Magnus replied defensively.

Raphael snorted, pulling away from his glass and licking his lips to rid of the blood left on them. "Like when it just so happened when you fell for a perra asesina like Camille?"

"She wasn't –," Magnus frowned. "Look, what's so wrong with it? Alexander's different."

"Different? I didn't want to comment –,"

"Then don't!"

"– But he's a Lightwood. Out of all the Nephilim, really? Besides, I heard from the grapevine that the parents are not happy – ah, that's an understatement."

"And by grapevine you mean Simon?" Magnus snorted. "You really aren't subtle, Raphael."

"You know nothing." Raphael replied immediately even though a tinge of doubt seeped into his words. "Besides, we're talking about you which is way more fun." His face shifted into a more serious expression. "Do you think you could keep the boy safe from the Clave? The Downworlders? That, in the long run, he'll be happy?"

Magnus sighed. "Why must you dampen my every happiness, Raphael?"

"I think I've been good enough to let it go for so long without saying shit."

Magnus stayed quiet.

"I'm not asking because I want you unhappy, amigo."

"I know." Magnus tilted his head, looking away from his friend. "I have thought about it. I know I… If the Downworlders do something, Alexander – He's the type to take it but if it's the Clave..." He sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. "I wasn't really thinking long-term when I pursued him. It's… There was so much going on and I had little time to pause."

"Lo siento, but those are weak excuses."

Magnus closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "I just wanted him."

"And now you have him."

"And now I have him."

"Then what?" Raphael pushed.

"If you're trying to get me to admit that Alexander is better without me –,"

"I'm not trying to make you admit anything, amigo, because you know the truth and I'm just trying to make it your priority." Raphael stood and waltzed over to Magnus, sitting beside him.

Magnus glanced at him wearily. "It doesn't even matter."

Raphael threw him a sharp look.

Magnus waved his hand dismissively. "I barely see Alexander anymore anyway. Unless I join him for patrols or missions. He's always too busy with his Nephilim duties and tracking his parabatai, his Jace. There hasn't been any time for me. Not for a month and counting."

"Are you sulking?"

"…Is that so wrong?"

"No." Raphael shook his head. "If he doesn't take time off for you, maybe the boy doesn't care." He raised his hand when Magnus was about to protest. "Have you ever considered that you were an easy way out? That if he came out, not using you, it would be even harder on him but with you, his parents would put their focus on the Downworlder being the problem instead of his sexuality?"

"Who would have thought that when you finally gave me a speech again it would be about how horrible you think Alexander can be?" Magnus summoned a glass of whiskey and took a sip. "Alexander isn't that type of person. He's a protector and he's selfless."

"Are you sure about that?"

"What are you talking about, Raphael?" Magnus asked, almost irritably.

"Simon told me that his amigo noticed your Alexander having a crush on his parabatai. Isn't it selfish for him to prioritise Jace instead of you, his supposed boyfriend? Have you ever asked yourself where his loyalties lie? His heart?" Raphael was getting steadily heated in his words, the fingers holding his glass turning whiter with pressure. A feat. "You are my querido amigo and I won't stand by while you allow that Nephilim to keep you as a second choice. You are muy importante and worth more than that."

"Gracias, Raphael." Magnus murmured quietly. "...However, it is much too early and I must be patient."

"Dios. You'll let him do it. Even after everything with Camille." Raphael ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Think of yourself first for once."

"Magnus," Alexander said his name so exasperatedly that Magnus flinched. "Jace is important."

"More important than your life?" Magnus asked.

Alec turned to him with steel in his bright hazel eyes. "He is my parabatai and my brother. Let me go."

Magnus nodded wonkily.

The moment he let go, Alexander ran.

Magnus smiled sadly. "Why should I? Then, I would be alone far too soon."


He was so artistic;

Painting smiles on every face but his own.