Warning: cannon bending (in a fun way).

09: Stakes

The next morning, Magnus wakes up wrapped around Alec's human form. The embrace is painfully tight but the comfort it offers is immense and addicting; it takes Magnus over a minute to realize he's woken up wrapped around Alec's very naked human form. He wonders what might be more hazardous to his health- moving away, risking that Alec would wake up and maim him or staying put, waiting until Alec would wake up and maim him. Reaching out hesitantly, Magnus strokes Alec's hair, pushing stray strands away from his face. "We'll get to the point maiming won't be necessary, won't we?" he murmurs. Alec doesn't steer. Magnus slips away from him with a heavy sigh. The room is awfully cold without Alec's body next to his. "It might be sooner than you'd have allowed otherwise," Magnus says. He pulls the blanket higher around Alec's shoulders before heading to the shower.

He's out of the house forty minutes later with no coat and a heavy heart. The long walk to Fort Greene warms him not at all. The park looks as bleak as he feels when he finally gets there- trees naked, the snow patchy brown, not a dog or jogger in sight.

He heads to the monument without sparing his surroundings a second glance. It's a crude, erupt piece of stone, too small to be impressive and too dull to be remarkable. It stands gray and solemn against a dreary sky, its shadow cast all across the steps leading up to it. Magnus takes the steps three at a time, his heels softly clacking on the marble. He doesn't bother with the door when he finally gets to the vast, flat platform. There's not a mundane in sight anyway. Magnus walks straight on, through the center of the stone monument, through and out to the same snow covered lawns and bare tress; all bare but one that hadn't been, massive and round, leaves green like emeralds. Beneath it is a figure, small and winged, generally familiar, like all faeries are. Magnus takes a few steps to stand before her. She smiles, but it's cold.

"Warlock Bane," she greets, voice like bell-chimes, most unpleasant. "Your visit is unexpected."

"Yet entirely predictable," Magnus replies and the faerie nods slightly, angling her head. She turns and walks away, around the tree and into the serried greenery. Magnus follows faithfully, all quiet demeanor but his heart. They walk further into a forest that does not exist in Fort Greene, deeper under green canopies darkening. Branches knit above them as they go, wood to earth until a cave is born. Through the corridors and left again and again once over to a chamber, dim.

The Queen's throne is lit by candles and fey-dust, almost afire, but not quite, not yet. The Queen smiles, angles and sharp lines meshed, aligned, once dear. Magnus stares at her with barely an echo of fondness in his heart, familiarity flattering and dying as her expression shifts.

"Magnus," her voice is velvet. "My dear, beloved warlock, it has been too long."

He shakes his head, "Not nearly enough, Lys."

Her eyes harden, solidified like diamonds and shiny things. "You came to see me," she objects- me, for me, only me.

"I came for him," and she knows, knows this, yet the room grows colder as her anger swells. "You knew I would."

"I did," she admits, "I believed you won't."

He smiles. "It's been about me all along, hasn't it? You knew."

She nods, slow, calculating. "Your power, a mark, all over him. His skin glowed with it." She doesn't seem pleased, scorned even, though he came to expect it, and now he knows the price. You should've chosen forever with me. "He came in bearing it. He is foolish, your Shadowhunter."

"For insulting you?"

She smiles. "In more ways than one."

"If not for my mark, would you have cursed him still?"

Her eyes shine, lips pulled back against white teeth and a vicious tongue. "No."

Magnus' head dips, low to his chest, chin digging into bone. The pain isn't strong enough. "Would you lift it?"

Her lips pull further. "No."

And he knows, knows this, yet the room grows colder.

x

"We need to talk," Alec tells Magnus as soon as he returns to the loft and enters the kitchen. Magnus eyes him, slowly schooling his features to fit a mask of nonchalance; it's cracked, and Alec can see right through to the hidden panic at the very core.

"Is this the 'it's not you, it's me' talk?" Magnus asks, voice so tired, eyes bruised by sleepless nights.

Alec frowns. "What talk?"

Magnus shakes his head and settles on a stool, head in his hands. Alec checks the temperature of the oven before turning to Magnus. He leans on the kitchen counter opposite him, arms crossed.

"I want to talk about what Phelon said," Alec starts. Magnus doesn't lift his head.

"Of course you do."

"I wanted to know if it's the only way."

Magnus stiffens. "It shouldn't be."

"Is it?"

Magnus doesn't answer for a long while. Alec awaits him as he does the chicken cooking in oven. "I talked to her today," Magnus says finally, lowering his head and hiding his face in the crook of his arm. "To Eirlys. She said she wouldn't have cursed you if you weren't involved with me."

But I am, Alec thinks, as if that's always been the case. He is in too deep, tangled irrecoverably, no emergency exit in sight; and I don't want to get out. "Why does she care?" he asks, though he knows the answer before Magnus gives it to him. Knows because Magnus' knuckles turn whiter, knows because the cabinets rattle with the force of Magnus' magic, knows because it's him and they've had this fight before.

"I didn't want forever with her," Magnus admits finally. Alec nods, accepting, if grudgingly, what he's already suspected. So she's like Will and Camille and Helena and all the others I can't name. "She's driving me to the same forked path." Alec doesn't ask if Magnus is going to make the same choice again, if he's going to choose the path he's already traveled once. If he's going to whisk Alec's only chance away. He's much too terrified of the answer to even try.

He tangles his fingers in Magnus' soft hair instead, stroking lightly. "Look at me," he says when Magnus doesn't respond to his touch. Magnus lifts his head, eyes wide, his mouth an uncertain line in a shadowed face. "I don't blame you," Alec tells him, not for what she did. Not for what you did or might choose. "I don't and I won't and you shouldn't either."

Magnus looks away. "You don't get it."

"Then tell me." Alec tries to catch Magnus' eye but fails miserably. "Tell me what I don't get so I can tell you it's stupid and not your fault again."

Tell me you'd choose differently this time.

"It's my fault," Magnus snaps, suddenly looking at Alec again, eyes blazing with conviction. Alec levels his stare and lets go of his hair. "You heard what our options are. The lack of them."

"We have an option, Magnus, we have-" Alec argues.

Magnus narrows his eyes. "You don't know anything about-"

"Tethering?" Alec prompts, suddenly angry. Magnus swallows hard, eyes sliding away hastily, focusing on the floor. "If that's what-"

"It's not what it was supposed to come down to!" Magnus' usual calm exterior shatters as his voice escalates. His shoulders shake. The kitchen appliances rattle around them as Magnus' control on his magic slips.

With sudden clarity, Alec realizes that Magnus doesn't want to make the choice. That it's why he's fighting this so hard. Maybe if Alec decides he doesn't want to, Magnus won't have to admit he doesn't, either.

He won't have to say anything as long as Alec does it for him. As long as Alec's the one who calls the shots, he won't have to take responsibility.

If Alec had half a mind to make it easier before, he doesn't anymore. "It hardly matters," he snarls.

"It matters," Magnus says flatly. "It's forever."

And that's what it's all about in principle.

It hurts.

It hurts so much Alec wonders for a brief, wild moment if Magnus stabbed him right through the heart with a stray kitchen knife. Drawing breath turns to be an extremely difficult task. His lungs refuse to function properly. "You don't have to sound so appalled by the idea," Alec manages to croak, sliding to the floor by the refrigerator- away from Magnus. He doesn't look at Magnus as he awaits an answer, should one come.

He doesn't want forever with me, either.

"I-" Magnus' voice breaks. "It's not that I- Alec, look at me," but Alec doesn't. He can't. "Alec, please," Magnus' voice takes on a gentler note, as if the presentation would change the content. The silence stretches.

He doesn't want it.

"I think I do," Magnus says suddenly, as if he knew exactly what Alec was thinking. "Want forever, with you." Alec's head snaps up in surprise. He lets air out of his lungs. Magnus appears before him, out of his chair in a second. His golden eyes are intent, determined. "It's not about what I want though."

"What's it about then?"

"You."

Alec groans, exasperated. "Why are you so against this? Why are you against it when you said just now that- that you want-"

Magnus steps closer and falls to his knees before Alec. He grips Alec's knees, leaning closer, his voice suddenly lower and privet. "Because," he says, "I don't want you to agree to something so beautifully gilded just because you're infatuated or because I'm your first boyfriend, because you're scared of losing me and looking for someone else enough to give up your life. Because you don't know what forever is. I want you to choose what's right for you, no matter how many other options you've got."

"I have no other options."

"It shouldn't matter." Magnus' eyes darken. "Choose this because you want it, not because you were forced to as part of being associated with me."

"If I choose this, will you go through it?"

Will my choice matter to you at all?

Magnus nods. "I owe you that much."

"I don't want you to agree because you think it's your fault."

"I think you know it's not the only reason I would." Magnus gives him a carefully blank look; Alec tries to gauge those reasons from his eyes. What he sees makes him wonder, more than anything, if he's even capable of discerning the complex portrait of emotions he is presented with. "I was being serious when I told Willa I don't think you're ready for this."

Alec gives frowns. "Why would you-"

The air in the room shifts suddenly, heating up.

"Tell me, darling- why are you so eager to perform a ritual you know next to nothing about?" Magnus' voice is casual, but there's an edge of desperation to his tone.

"Maybe I'll be able to keep my marks if we do it, if it works. You and Phelon both said so," Alec tells him; it ought to be obvious. "I'll get to keep you too."

Magnus shakes his head. "It's not how it works, sweetheart."

"Then how does it work?"

"Corpus et mens et cor junge ut anima ligetur. The ritual binds the heart, the mind and the flesh of two to make them one."

"I know Latin," Alec feels the need to clarify.

Magnus sighs. "It doesn't mean you know what it means." And he doesn't. Not in any substantial way; maybe that's why he doesn't understand Magnus' aversion to the idea, maybe that's why he doesn't understand why Magnus thinks he ought to throw Alec's only chance away. "It's nothing like your Shadowhunter wedding runes, or your Parabatai ones." The condensation regarding Nephilim customs is a lilt to Magnus' voice, forcefully subdued but too deeply ingrained to disappear completely. "It's much, much stronger, sweetheart. It borders on Black Magia." And Black Magia is bad- everyone knows- it's evil and compelling, a dark temptation the Clave kills warlocks for yielding to. Alec doesn't understand how something like that might be the key to saving his life. "You know why this ritual's going to work?" Magnus asks, suddenly. "Because the curse relies on Eirlys' claim on your soul- on the Fey Mark on your essence. It morphs it. Everything else didn't work because we though the mark was on your body." Magnus' voice grows stronger. "After the Tethering- I'll own your soul. You'll be tied to my magic forever and Eirlys won't have claim on you; your soul would be mine- not hers, not the Clave's, not yours- mine." Magnus' mouth forms a taut, grim line. His fingers curl into a loose fist against his thigh, not reaching out. The dragontear on Alec's chest gives a faint pulse. "If we do this, there's no turning back. You'll follow me forever. Wherever."

Alec nods. "I'm fine with that."

Magnus' eyes widen in outraged disbelief. "You're fine with everything that gives you half a chance to keep you marks!" He throws his hands up in the air. Angry sparks shoot from his fingertips. "What are you gonna do when your precious Clave tosses you out because you're irrecoverably tied to a Downworlder?"

"I'm doing this because-"

"They won't care, Alec! They won't fucking care!"

Alec gets up so suddenly Magnus is forced to move away before they clash. "As if your mystery Order will," Alec snaps, his whole body shaking with suppressed fury.

"The Order won't be able to take my powers away, unlike the Clave-"

"They won't-"

"This ritual's used in Demon pacts," Magnus says with a hiss, rising up as well to loom over Alec. "When people sign over their souls to have something to feed their family with or cure a loved one from cancer. It's something you do when it's either that or death, and you know what? they live half their natural life span and end up tied to a fucking demon for the rest of eternity-"

"You're not a demon!" Alec almost shouts, abruptly interrupting Magnus' tirade. Magnus stills, his face frozen, eyes still impossibly wide. Emotions flicker around his irises, clear as day; Surprise and doubt, something far too broken to be joy.

"You're a Shadowhunter," Magnus says, slowly. He appears to be lost- expression clouded brows furrowed.

"I'm glad you've noticed," Alec says sharply. "I'd like to remain one."

"I'm a warlock," Magnus ignores him.

"That should explain the spontaneous busts of magic."

Magnus stares at him. "I'm half a demon."

Alec huffs impatiently. He's too tired, his nerves too frayed, to try and understand what Magnus is getting at. "So?" he demands.

Magnus' lips pull; the grin is crooked and as exhausted as Alec feels. His eyes shine. "Saya amat mencintaimu."

Alec smiles back. "Non loqui Indonesiaca."

Then the oven goes ding.

x

Alec pokes the chicken still in the oven with no real interest, barely even paying attention that the fork has gone all the way through, only stopped by the bone. "Why are you fighting me on this?" he inquires tiredly, back still turned on Magnus. His voice remains calm, anger already spent. "You're the one who went asking about how to perform the ritual, I thought you were on board with the whole idea."

"I told you already-"

Alec shakes his head but doesn't turn around. "It's not why though." He turns off the oven and steps away to search for vegetables in the fridge. "All those things you've said- it's not why you look so scared. It's not why you fight this tooth and nail. It's my only chance, Magnus. Why?"

"I meant all I said," Magnus tells him, defensive, his voice on edge. "I'm not sure this is the right choice."

Alec takes out a knife and starts chopping cucumbers methodically. Magnus eyes the knife uneasily. "Why?" Alec asks.

"Because I can convince you." Magnus' tone is grave. Alec shifts his eyes to glance his way, still chopping. The only reason he doesn't lose an appendage is due to years of cooking - because Izzy can't and mom's never home- while watching Max- since no one else would. "Because I can convince you so, so easily darling. I just have to say it'll bring your marks back, or that it'll keep you young forever, that it's a romantic grand gesture."

Alec frowns. "Owning my soul isn't all that romantic."

"I didn't have to tell you I'd own your soul. I could've hit the 'bonded forever' angle."

"Why didn't you?" Alec's done with the salad. He pulls out a bowl and two plates from the cupboard. Then he gets out the chicken. He turns around to see Magnus leaning on his elbows, the muscles on his face twitching- as if he hasn't decided what expression to display yet.

"Because you'd end up hating me in ten, maybe fifteen years when your friends and family die unexpected, premature death and you realize you never will." Alec face contorts in a painfully obvious wince. Magnus stares at his hands, neatly folded on the tabletop. Alec busies himself with filling up his plate. "If you do this because I want you to, or because I'm desperate after four centuries, then you'll hate me and yourself for it. I don't want that."

Alec settles on a stool across Magnus but doesn't touch the mountain of food he now has before him. "I think that it's not about my marks at this point."

Magnus pokes the salad some. "Then what?"

"I'll lose my marks in two days whether we perform the ritual or not, if you're right about the Clave-" Alec puts up a hand, stopping Magnus before he can cut him off. "When that happens, I won't be able to protect my family anymore. I won't see them. This gives me hope, the ritual. If they find out about it sooner than later, than at least I'd have more time. Then they'll strip me and I won't see them anymore, just as I won't if we don't do this. They'll die either with me in the battle field or without me. I can't change that, but I can try to be there as long as I can, and this- this is as long as I can." He takes a breath, deep and slow- just enough to clear his head, but not enough to cleanse his heart. "There's no wining in this, the only thing I'll win is you." Alec makes sure he doesn't blink when he says, "I've thought this over."

"And you want to?" Alec can hear the slight waver in Magnus' voice, sees him muscles shift- ready for rejection.

Alec nods with a hesitant smile. "Tell me about the ritual."

Magnus' face clears slightly and his expression lightens, though not considerably. There are doubts lingering at the raw edges of his peeling mask. "The first part of the ritual requires feelings of mutual fortitude," Magnus begins tentatively, leaning back on the information as a crutch to relieve the gathered tension. "It can be love, or hate or fear. Anything intense enough to stimulate the magic involved."

They share a look. Magnus' eyes are bright with hope and something else. It ought to be enough, Alec thinks, what we feel- it ought to be enough. "That's cor. Mens breaks the mental walls between the two subjects."

"What, like telepathy?"

Magnus laughs and the tension eases. "Frederic Myers was born long after the ritual."

"I was thinking Xavier."

A curious look spreads across Magnus' features. "Been snooping in my shelves?"

Alec shrugs. "The comics' caught my eye."

Magnus nods with a small smile. "Maybe you should learn Greek," he suggests mildly. "I have far more interesting materials than Marvel."

"I know Greek," Alec says. "But I read Plato and Homer before I got my third rune, and you're missing the only play by Aristophanes I haven't read."

Magnus gives him an incredulous, slightly impressed look and a toothy grin, but doesn't indulge in a comment. Alec turns back to his dinner with an indignant huff. "In a demon pact, Mens usually means the subject's mind is toyed with until they go insane and don't resist the Corpus," Magnus continues.

"What's the Corpus?"

"Marking." Magnus' eyes harden but avoid direct contact for a brief moment. "Permanent. Stronger than a rune. It will never fade," Alec nods. "It will never disappear."

"I know," Alec says. "Find something else to scare me with."

Magnus looks startled but his expression softens, becoming much mellower, losing the edge and hardness of his stare. "I'm not trying to scare you."

"Good," Alec takes a decisive bite of the chicken. "Because you can't."

Magnus grins. "Boo."

Magnus' gleeful expression rips a surprised laugh from Alec's mouth.

Then he chokes on the chicken.

Magnus flicks his wrist and a glass of water soundlessly appears on Alec's left. Alec downs it with a glare. There are words engraved at the bottom of the glass: 'SCARED?'.

"You are insufferable," Alec informs him when he's done with the water and his cough dies a little.

"I'm right," Magnus counters with a bright smile.

"No," Alec shakes his head. "You are smug."

"Smug suits me."

Alec rolls his eyes but doesn't argue. Magnus' smile widens to a manic grin.

They are halfway through dinner when Alec finally risks and asks, "When are we gonna do it?"

The fork still in Magnus' hand. "Soon," he says.

Alec keeps pushing. "When?"

It's not as if they have long.

They stare at each other over empty plates and clenched fists. Magnus doesn't budge. "Soon," he repeats. "Soon."

x

Alec stands staring by Magnus' shut door a few moments before gathering enough courage to open it. He enters the room quietly, looking around cautiously. It's empty.

Alec can hear faint sounds filtering from the study. There's light in the crack between the door and the floor, a bright yellow rectangle like a beacon. He opens that door as well.

The first thing he sees is the cluttered shelves, the knocked down phials and books. The second is Magnus, huddled in a corner with several tall stacks of books around him, a smoldering cauldron to his left, a thick tome in his lap. There's faint music playing, something upbeat and outdated. The man sings: you were born to be my baby, and baby I was made to be your man before Magnus flicks his wrist irritably and the melody changes to blaring guitars. Then he lifts his head and sees Alec.

"Never was a fan," Magnus tells him conversationally, nodding towards the small iPod stuck in the speakers' dock. "Especially of the hair." Alec smiles.

I'm just a bachelor; I'm looking for a partner the iPod wails the lyrics of the next song. Magnus snaps his fingers sharply. The melody shifts to a soft piece of violin, accompanied by a piano.

"I want to do the Tethering," Alec declares.

"I've got that," Magnus' eyes empty gradually, his expression schooling itself. His gaze remains trained on a spot above Alec's head, avoiding the question by avoiding the stare.

"Now." Alec keeps his voice level. Magnus' eyes snap to his.

"Why."

"Because I want to."

Because I want my marks back, because I want you, because I want us for as long as I live.

Magnus' golden eyes strip him bare, searching for some reassurance, for the slightest sign of a lingering regret. They won't find it, but the search takes long and fills the room with tense silence. "Are you sure?" Magnus asks, finally, voice clipped.

"Yes."

Magnus must have found what he was looking for all those times he's asked for assurance in Alec's expression, because the heavy tome falls to the floor with his sudden rise. He's in Alec's personal space in three steps, arms around Alec's waist and a twist to his lips to suggest he's holding back a smile. "Are you absolutely sure?" he asks again.

Alec sighs, pressing closer. He wraps his arms around Magnus' neck and says, "Don't make me repeat it again."

Magnus laughs.

x

Telepathy, as it seems, can't be achieved with Mens. The process itself requires a few marks along Magnus' wrists, some incense and a foul potion Alec is instructed to drink. They settle on Magnus' bed in the middle of a hexagon made of salt- Magnus sitting cross legged on the mattress, Alec lying down with his head in Magnus' lap. "Tell me if I'm prying," Magnus says before his hands cup the back of Alec's head, fingertips lightly pressed to his temples.

The dragontear gives a sharp pulse of heat against Alec's chest. Alec blinks and the room around him disappears as soon as he opens his eyes, transformed to a familiar landscape he hasn't seen since the last visit to Idris. It's the garden of their old house back home, as green and lavish as he remembers it being mid-spring. They remain in the same position- Magnus sitting, Alec lying- under the willow tree planted in the farthermost corner of the garden, hidden behind sage bushes.

Alec can feel the grass prickling his skin, yet he's eerily aware of his body resting still and heavy on a bed somewhere far, far away. The dissonance is unsettling.

"Where are we?" Alec asks, craning his head to look at Magnus' face.

"Mindscape," Magnus replies. "Your old house?"

Alec nods. "I haven't been here in a while."

"I can tell." Magnus nods toward a spot to their left. "What you can't remember is blurry."

And it is. The house itself stands perfectly detailed, sharp and vivid like a high definition broadcast. Parts of the garden, like the willow and the sage- are equally accurate. Others are a smear, a sketchy representation of the bushes, flowers and trees Alec can only vaguely recall.

"Why the tree?" Magnus' eyes flicker towards its branches, a curious look on his face.

"Grandma planted it after uncle Edmund ran off to marry a mundane," Alec explains. The leaves sway gently in the breeze. "The maid used to love it here. We spent most afternoons under the tree while my parents were away." As they always were. Magnus' eyes leave the tree and train on Alec's face, measured sympathy etched on his features. "I can't remember anything clearly, just that I lost in Hide and Seek to her all the time and that I scared a nesting family of Jackdaws away. Then Izzy came along and my parents were busy with the post-Circle trial. The maid quit after the verdict of the exile came and I never knew her name. I used to sneak here while mom and father packed our life away." The look on Magnus' face shifts. Alec stares past the hanging branches at the house, white and tall like an iceberg among the green. "The week before we left Idris for good I sneaked out again while my mom was busy in my room. She never even noticed I was gone, but when she did it took her hours to find me. She never knew about the tree, so it didn't occur to her to look for me there. When she finally found me she was livid. I've never seen her quite as angry. She told me I 'acted irresponsibly' and that I 'ought to know better'." Alec doesn't look at Magnus when he's done talking. He has a vague idea of the expression he might see on his face, and he's not in the mood for pity.

Magnus doesn't say a word for the longest time. When he finally does, he doesn't address what he's just been told. He says, "It's going to be uncomfortable," and something yanks Alec's memories to the surface. It feels like a tide, pictures and sounds and feelings rising, powerful and all consuming, a chaos pressing on them from all sides until they drown.

He was one under the tree once. Then they were two, and three and four. There's no tree now- just a cat, a cold room and three others, sometimes five. He misses them occasionally- when he remembers how to- but not as often as the little one; he needs them, but they never come. He doesn't like being left alone, can't help but worry about the other three- five, but it's been toolongagoandithurtstothinka boutit- so he stays and looks and keeps eyes open and bow ready even though he hasn't been much of a use lately, before, ever really. Too scared to kill or protect or run, always scared, always looking at the shadows and inching away. It's too dark in here.

Why aren't you hiding anything? A voice asks him. Alec doesn't think he has a voice to answer with. The memories don't stop.

He hates small, dark spaces. It reminds him of failing that first mission and the ones after it and the closet on the second floor he's been hiding in and his father grounding him back when he was home and still paid attention.

Why don't you put up walls? The voice inquires.

He doesn't pay attention anymore, not to him. He comes home once in too long to sleep and clean his sword and tell Jace he's gotten better, almost as good as he's been his age. Almost. Alec's not even that. He's barely.

In the darkness a figure appears. The memories latch onto it like hungry vultures, ripped off him to pursue a better prey. One by one- they disappear, somehow getting absorbed by the stranger in Alec's mind, leaving only a faint glow behind. When they fade completely, Alec is able to recognize Magnus' shape, standing where the eye of the storm had once been. Alec blinks. There's enough space to breathe in the darkness now and no memories.

He's on Magnus' bed again, staring at the warlock perched above him. Magnus gawks at him, his face slightly ashen. "Why didn't you hide anything?" he asks again.

"I don't know how." Alec shrugs. He moves a hand to press against Magnus' cheek. "There's need to hide anything from you anyway."

Magnus' gapes at him some more. Alec grins weakly. With abrupt urgency in his eyes, Magnus grabs the dragontear pedant on Alec's chest. The necklace heats up and the room fades once more, starting from the edges. The darkness spreads like ink in water, slowly swirling until everything is a murky shade of gray. It's dark again and Alec's suddenly alone in the depths of something that feels distinctively alive.

Slowly, pictures appear before him, short clips from Magnus' life floating in the air- paused and much more organized than his own. There are hundreds of them. Alec walks among them, taking it all in as each comes to life before his eyes.

The first recollection is of a woman in green, her hair like a flame, an apple in her outstretched palm. There are wings- delicate and beautiful- sprouting from her back. Stay with me, she says. Stay with me forever.

The second is of a Shadowhunter who looks just like Alec- same complexion, a different shade of blue around the pupils- the third a werewolf, the fourth a vampire. There are fairies, and Djins and wolves and vampires and warlocks, so many Alec gives up keeping score. They turn into a faceless blur before him, the only thing clear being Magnus' immense affection towards each one. Alec can feel his own heart seize with the force of the emotion.

Alec goes through hundreds of memories- of love, and hate and compassion so great it makes him ache with it. The last memory is at the very back of Magnus' mind, but it's brighter and warmer than the rest. In it, Alec sees himself- blood smeared on pale skin, gear on, fire and demons and death behind a head of black hair and eyes as blue as the sky. There's anger and crushing relief and an echo of what Alec can feel in his own heart.

The bleak mindscape wanes abruptly as Magnus' memory of Alec fades. The bedroom reappears around him, slowly, like a hazy dream. The only light in the room is the faint candle glow from the study. Magnus' eyes shine eerily despite the darkness.

"Aku cinta kamu," Magnus whispers, the words falling off his lips in a rushed tumble. "Saya akan selalu mencintaimu."

Alec feels and understands- finally, completely.

"I love you too."

A/N: The chapter with the long overdue 'I love you' is finally here.

I think this is the chapter in which cannon-verse suffers the most. I really like the idea of soul-bonding in almost every fandom and I always felt like the 'I can make you immortal' angle was never explored thoroughly and discarded way too quickly. So I jumped on board, stomped over Clare's firm 'no' on the subject and created this little monster. Let's see how much havoc it will create in the next chapters.

Excerpt from the next chapter: As soon as they're far enough for Alec not to wake from the noise, Jace cocks his fist just right and throws a punch so hard Magnus is thrown against the opposite wall with a loud smack.