Hello my cupcakes,

Thank you all for the love and the amazing response to the previous chapter!
I had a great holiday and I'm happy to be back to make you suffer a little.

This chapter was a nightmare to write, 1) because writing on the phone isn't easy, 2) because there is some heavy stuff happening and... well, let's just say it isn't fun. You've been warned.

There is a trigger warning in this chapter. Mentions of torture, and not the fun kind of torture. Please don't take it lightly.

If you're live-tweeting, you can use the hashtag #lecrit or tag me

Ps: I apologize in advance.

In retrospect, Alec should have expected the way things spiralled into hell from there. He should have known, and maybe, deep down he had felt, had sensed how it was inevitable.

It didn't make it less painful.

And it all happened in a night.

The revelation of Maryse's involvement in this whole mess left them speechless. For a long while, silence reigned. Alec tried to ignore the half-bewildered, half-hurt look on his siblings' faces, certain it perfectly matched his own, but he couldn't, no matter how painful it was to witness.

"Is Maryse trying to kill us?" Jace inquired and Alec couldn't help but notice he hadn't said Mom like he normally would.

"There's got to be another explanation," Isabelle breathed out.

Her dark eyes were wide, fixed on the television screen even though the image had stilled a while ago. She was leaning into Simon's side for comfort, probably unconsciously, and she was nervously chewing on her bottom lip.

Alec wanted to reach out, to hold her against him and shelter her from the pain she was experiencing. It was his role as her big brother, and yet, he found himself incapable of doing so. Alec wasn't a fool and he knew he couldn't possibly protect his siblings from everything, especially not from the world's cruelty. Those were forces far stronger than he could endure. He could still try though, but lately, it never seemed to be enough.

He had no choice, right then, but to acknowledge that something was seriously wrong with him. He was a protector, had always been one. And he was failing, repeatedly, at doing the one thing he had always praised himself for excelling at.

He hadn't been able to protect Magnus. He still didn't know how to bring him the comfort he needed, how to make him feel whole again.

And now, the same thing was happening with his sister, his own blood.

She was relying on her boyfriend, something that was fine in principle - Alec could admit how great Simon was for her, he treated her with the respect and adoration she deserved and he couldn't have hoped for someone better for his little sister - but where did that leave him?

What was he supposed to do when the people he was meant to protect were not his responsibility to protect anymore?

"This doesn't make sense."

It didn't. Lydia was right. Nothing really made sense anymore.

In all the realm of possibilities, their mother being the one who was hunting them down was not an option. They were her flesh and blood. She wouldn't hurt them, no matter how tense their relationship had been in the past years.

Alec froze and realization crossed his features before he could try to stop it.

Yes, he and Jace and Isabelle were her family - her children - but the rest of the team was nothing to her. They shared nothing, not even the slightest bond.

If Maryse really was behind this, Alec wasn't in danger, no more than his siblings. But the others were.

Magnus was. Again.

And this time, Alec wasn't going to let him get hurt. Magnus had been through too much already.

Alec reached out blindingly to take his hand and squeeze it reassuringly. Magnus clearly mistook his gesture for a call for comfort because he gave Alec an apologetic glance before bringing his hand to his mouth to press a kiss on the knuckles.

Alec smiled.

It was insane, but he smiled and he didn't even have to force himself, not when Magnus was here.

"I'm going to go talk to her," Alec said with revigorated verve.

Jace was up on his feet in a heartbeat. "Not alone you're not," he exclaimed with his characteristic confidence.

"Sit down," Luke demanded in an unquestionable tone. "Neither of you is going anywhere at this time of the night and without a proper plan. We're done doing things harshly. I'm not letting anyone else be the casualty of our recklessness."

Jace seemed to hesitate for a while, debating with himself on what behavior to adopt, but eventually he darted a defeated gaze at Alec and sat down with a shrug.

"Good," Luke said solemnly. "Now Lydia, tell us why you're here."

Lydia nodded sternly, her composure immediately switching to the professional one Alec had witnessed a few times before. She shared a quick glance with Aline by her side before stepping forward, holding a USB key to Simon.

Simon didn't ask and promptly plugged it to his laptop.

"Some of these images are pretty… graphic," Lydia said, her mouth pulled into a thin line. "I'm warning you," she added, her eyes darting to Magnus for a second. "I don't want to trigger anything."

"Darling, I just watched my ex-girlfriend being shot to death," Magnus replied absently, the bitterness underneath barely noticeable. His eyes were two hollow voids, like he had shut off a part of himself, the most human part of him. The one that sheltered his pain and sorrows, past and present. The one that made him who he was. "I don't think there's anything more triggering than that."

Alec was tired of feeling powerless. He reached out, clutching Magnus' hand in an unforgiving grip. Magnus tensed for a moment, but eventually he turned his hand in his, entwining their fingers together.

Lydia threw them both an apologetic gaze before she turned towards Simon. Simon was working on his laptop at once.

"It's the second file," Aline announced solemnly.

Simon nodded, not bothering to look her way and a second later, Magnus' TV screen switched and a collective gasp ran through their small group.

It was a video, once more in black and white. Aline was there, standing on one side of a stern metallic table, arms crossed over her chest. Her hair was tied in a strict bun and even though the camera only allowed half her face to be showed, she looked positively appalled as she quietly observed the man in front of her.

On the other side of the table, a light smirk on his lips, sat Valentine Morgenstern. He looked even more insane than Alec remembered him, his eyes shining with a deviousness he didn't bother to hide anymore, a neglected scruff adding to the whole dreadful impression. He seemed delighted to be there.

Alec wanted nothing more than to find out where he was and make him meet the fate he deserved, the fate Hodge had been denied to give him.

He didn't know if he would be able to pull the trigger, to watch life leave his eyes under his own doing but right then, as he sensed the trembling of Magnus' fingers even through his strong grip, it felt possible. It felt necessary.

"This is from three days ago," Aline informed them. "We've been trying to get to him for a while but he wouldn't talk. We thought it was because he had nothing left to lose and thus nothing for us to bargain on to get a confession on his many illegal activities. I was honestly about to give up and send him to the Clave."

"What's the Clave?" Clary asked, her voice sounding strained.

She was sitting next to Jace, biting her nails as she stared at the screen, seemingly unable to look away.

Alec realized, a surge of shame growing in his chest, that he hadn't stopped to think about how she was dealing with this whole thing.

Admittedly, he had been quite busy with trying - and mostly failing, or at least it was what it felt like - to keep Magnus from drowning in his misery.

Magnus had been hit physically by Valentine's wickedness but Clary… She was the man's daughter. She not only shared his blood but also bared the physical evidences of their parentage. She had his sharp cheekbones, although hers were full of freckles.

Alec had to wonder how someone as purely evil as Valentine could have created someone as profoundly good as Clary. He guessed her mother was to thank for that, as was Luke.

Now that he was paying attention, Alec could see everything he had missed before.

She had lost some weight, not much, but enough so that her cheeks had hollowed a little. Her pale skin was almost grey, her freckles even more striking. She was wearing a pair of jeans ripped at the knee and a hoodie that he knew belonged to Jace. She was clutching the hem of the sleeves with her hands like she was trying to prevent herself from digging her nails into her palms.

She looked crestfallen. Crushed.

Alec was so sick of watching the people he cared about falling apart around him.

"The Clave is the place where we send the people we arrest to be judged and imprisoned," Lydia replied, effectively pulling him out of his thoughts.

"We have a special tribunal for these people," Aline added. "That's all I can tell you as of now. The rest is confidential."

"Sometimes, you people make me feel like I'm in a James Bond movie," Simon said matter-of-factly, but his fained disinterest was belied by the way his eyes shone with excitement, a slight grin tugging at his lips, making his glasses slide a bit further down his nose.

"We don't have a licence to kill," Aline said, clearly affronted at the idea. She didn't know Simon yet, Alec pondered to himself, but she would understand soon enough that there was no point in taking notice of his digressions.

"That would be kind of cool, though," Simon noted.

"That sounds like a lie," Hodge butted in, casting an imperturbable look at the two women. "If your organization is that secret, who would stop you if you put down one guy? Especially one as despicable as Valentine?"

Neither Aline nor Lydia replied. Aline pursed her lips, however, and it was probably more of a screaming answer to Hodge's blunt affirmation than any spoken denial.

"That's off topic anyway," Lydia dismissed with a wave of her fingers. It was only because Alec had learned to know her that he noticed the sudden sharpness of her tone.

"What changed three days ago?" Magnus inquired, gesturing vaguely at the frozen image of Valentine on the screen, although his eyes refused to properly meet it. "Why did he suddenly talk?"

"The guards from the night of your heist?" Lydia said and it sounded oddly probing. "The night Magnus was shot?"

"Yeah, we remember," Magnus deadpanned, tapping two fingers against the bottom of his stomach where the evidence of that night laid scarred on his skin.

Aline frowned and crossed her way to Simon in two strides, gently pushing him aside. Simon seemed reluctant to let go of his laptop - or Christine, as he had affectionately called it, which never failed to make Alec roll his eyes - but he obliged, the slightest pout tugging at his bottom lip.

The screen quickly switched as Aline settled behind the laptop. Instead of Valentine's scornfully delighted expression, now appeared a much more gruesome picture.

It was a man, obviously dead, laying on his back, with a puddle of blood spread beneath him. His eyes were open and full of terror even in death.

Aline let the pictures pass before their eyes and the next couple of minutes were just an awful sight: a succession of dead bodies, men and women, until finally, Alec recognised one of them and his breath got stuck in his throat.

The rest of the picture was almost beautiful in comparison of the horror of the central element. It had been taken in a beautiful garden, full of roses as red as the blood plastering the man's front. His eyes held the glassiness of death but still, Alec had no trouble recalling these same eyes staring at him in fear as he had threatened the man to extract information out of him, when he had been so desperate to get to Magnus that he had forgotten everything about protecting himself and their cover.

This man was Valentine's butler. And he was quite clearly dead.

"I recognize him," Alec eventually said, scratching his brow in an unconsciously nervous gesture.

Lydia nodded, spared him a quick glance and turned back to the rest of the group.

"Him and every single guard that was present that night at the Morgenstern manor have been murdered. Most of them have been shot. The others have been stabbed."

"That's eleven people," Aline informed them, but she didn't look up from the laptop.

The image changed again and it was back to Valentine's devious smirk. She hit play and Alec squeezed Magnus' hand a little bit harder.

"Someone has been murdering your guards, your butler," Aline was saying in the video. "People who worked for you for years. Surely you want us to catch that person."

A slow grin spread on Valentine's face, lighting up his eyes with an almost childish excitement. Alec had to repress a shudder.

"That's a shame," he drawled and his voice sounded even more cruel than Alec remembered it. "Some of them had families."

He emphasized the word, and although he said the whole thing with a tone that seemed genuinely sorry, Alec wasn't fooled for a second.

Neither was Aline. She went to lean on the metallic table, leveling him with a stern look.

"You are going down, Morgenstern," she affirmed with a complete lack of sympathy, which made Alec like her a bit more. "You're not getting out of here. We can make your next years a living hell." She paused, strategically giving him time to fathom on his own that this was not an empty threat. "Or," she added, brushing a nonexistent dust off the sleeve of her jacket, "we can make it just slightly easier. You could have your own cell. If you know something about this, you better tell us now."

Valentine leaned forward, as far as his cuffed wrists would allow him, and was silent for a long moment, holding Aline's gaze stubbornly.

Eventually, he shrugged.

"I do know some things," Valentine said enigmatically. He grabbed the file that laid on the table between them and opened it, staring at the pictures. The more he passed them, the wider his grin grew. "I know it looks like my boy had fun."

Aline took a step back, her brow furrowed in surprise. "Your... boy?"

Valentine hummed in acknowledgment, his grin spreading further. He tilted his head, obviously mocking her, and dropped his voice as if telling her a secret.

"I don't do well with betrayal," he murmured with a staged wince, as if he truly was sorry for the fault.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well," Valentine drawled and he looked like he was positively enjoying the tension that had built between them with that simple word, "I paid them - and quite well, I might add - to protect me, didn't I? It looks to me like they didn't do their job." He gestured vaguely towards his injured shoulder, where Lydia had shot him. "I'm here while they let the people who tried to rob me run free?" He shook his head, "I can't have that."

He truly looked like he had no other choice, like killing people for failing to do their job was the only option that had occurred to him.

Not for the first time, Alec regretted getting involved with that man in the first place. He should have known better.

Then again, he wouldn't have met Magnus, but he had to believe they would have found another way, in an alternate reality. A happier, less bloody, pain-free way.

That seemed like a beautiful dream.

"Who killed them?" Aline asked coldly, wisely ignoring his games.

Valentine looked disappointed for a second, but he quickly recovered. He kept his mouth shut, but glanced up at the camera. It seemed like he was staring straight into Alec's soul to attempt to rip it apart with his cold eyes and Alec clenched his teeth, a sudden desire for murder throbbing in his mind, pushing at his usually unwavering morals.

"Did you pay for them to be murdered?" Aline continued, clearly unphased by the man's silence. "How did you even -"

She cut herself off, realization crossing her features. Valentine's smirk widened and he winked at the camera before turning back to her.

"It came to my understanding that Magnus Bane is not as dead as I hoped he'd be," he said. "The bastard truly has a bad habit of surviving my attempts at getting rid of him." He shrugged dismissively, like it was a problem he would soon solve.

The simple mention of Magnus' name was enough to make Alec clench his teeth. That man had almost succeeded in ripping Magnus away from him and he dared to say his name like he just had, with pure spite and barely disguised disgust. Alec had a sudden need, deep and untamable, to lodge a bullet between his eyes.

"You called your lawyer," Aline breathed out bemusedly, pulling Alec out of gloomy thoughts that surprised him by their vigor. "That's the only contact you had outside of these walls."

"Did you notice he never came?" Valentine asked tauntingly. "I should really hire a new one. This one is really unprofessional."

"Who is he?" Aline muttered through gritted teeth.

"I'd love to tell you," Valentine replied in a tone that suggested he'd rather rot in that cell forever, "but I wouldn't want you to bother him. He's going to be quite busy in the following weeks. Or months. It depends on how much he wants to play. He does like his toys, my boy."

"Who is he?" Aline asked once more, leaning forward, and although her whole posture was threatening and she looked like she was about to rip his head off, Valentine didn't so much as flinch, impassible in his folly.

"You should ask Ragnor Fell," Valentine said with a smirk, and the video stopped.

It was almost comical how in a heartbeat every eyes in the rooms were suddenly settled on Ragnor, who was standing with Raphael and Catarina behind the couch.

He squirmed uncomfortably on his feet and crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to meet their eyes.

Raphael stepped closer to him, although Alec didn't think he realized he did, a deep scowl on his face. It seemed like he was daring anyone to as much as open their mouths to interrogate Ragnor.

"I don't know what he's talking about," he admitted eventually, but his pursed lips told another story.

Alec didn't push though, and when he caught the look in Lydia's eyes, who was clearly ready to do so, he shook his head at her, firmly and with enough power that her opened mouth fell shut. She frowned.

"We recorded his conversation with his so-called lawyer," she said instead after clearing her throat.

Ragnor moved to Magnus' liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of whiskey, ignoring the few gazes still fixed on him. Alec didn't miss the way his hands trembled as he did. He paused, stretching his fingers as if it would ease his nerves.

"Maybe you can recognize the voice," Lydia added carefully.

Aline hit another key on the laptop and this time, there was no video, only a black screen and the unmistakable voice of Valentine, cold and calculating, coming through the speakers.

"I'm being detained," he was saying and his voice didn't bore his usual spite. "Somewhere in California, I presume, but I don't know where. I'm going to need a lawyer."

"You shot a man," another male voice, foreign to Alec's ears, replied. It was awfully similar to Valentine's, cold, but in a peculiar way that left the possibility of a devastating charm. "And admitted it in front of a representative of the law," he added. "There's not much I can do to help you."

Alec felt Magnus tense next to him and he turned his head to find the source of his sorrow, only to find Magnus looking the other way, right where Ragnor was still standing.

His green eyes were wide with terror and his hands, which had been trembling before, were now shaking so much that he had to put down his glass on the liquor cabinet in order not to drop it.

"I shot a man who was trespassing on my property," Valentine argued and he was about to go on, but Alec rose to his feet, throwing a pointed glare at Aline.

"Stop that," he demanded. Aline opened her mouth to reply but he didn't let her. "Now," he snapped, his voice rising in spite of himself.

"You should really review your security system," the other voice drawled. "Your guards -"

Aline's inability to react had pushed Simon to intervene. He leaned forward, all but smashing a key on his precious Christine and the recording stopped abruptly, the foreign voice dying.

For a short moment, the room was plunged in utter silence. Alec was clearly the only one, along with Magnus, who had noticed Ragnor's reaction because they all stared at him bewilderedly, like he had just lost it or grown a second head.

And then, Magnus rose from his seat, his lips pulled into a thin line and his eyes imperturbable and, without a word, crossed the room to get to Ragnor. He grabbed his elbow and Ragnor startled, letting out a weak whimper that was only audible because of the otherwise quietness. Magnus murmured something inaudible to Alec and pulled Ragnor behind him in the corridor. A few seconds later, the door slammed with a bang that made Aline jump on her seat.

Alec blew out a deep sigh, running a hand in his hair. He pulled at it, just enough to keep his head straight and spun to level Aline and Lydia with an unreadable look.

"Just get on with it," he mumbled, sitting back down. "Let's get this over with so we can all move on for good."

He didn't believe the words that came out of his own mouth but maybe if he repeated enough times, they would become true. He had to believe they would move on eventually.

"Let's skip the recording," Aline said hesitantly, somehow managing to look both sheepish and stern at the same time.

"If it's skippable, you could have done that from the start," Hodge cutted in. "In case you didn't know it, they are both having some trouble getting back to normal," he added, gesturing vaguely towards the corridor where Magnus and Ragnor had just disappeared, as if there was any mystery about who he meant. "They don't need more trauma from you."

"They won't have any trauma left when they're dead," Aline replied coldly.

"You're the one who is going to end up dead if you keep talking like that," Raphael snapped, taking a step forward, his dark eyes more menacing than Alec could recall ever seeing them.

Luke moved swiftly, putting a hand over his chest to stop him from striding closer.

"What Aline means," Lydia said in a rush, raising both hands in defense, "is that our priority is to ensure your physical safety, because you won't have a mental one to protect if you get killed."

"I'm sorry for what happened to you all, and especially to them," Aline added with a heavy sigh. Alec wanted to laugh. She had no clue. She couldn't know what they had been through. Her apologetic glance seemed very little in comparison of the constant mess they were in ever since they had made the foolish idea of getting involved with Valentine. "I really am. But right now, my job is to stop the people who are trying to kill you without caring how many casualties they leave in their wake. It's not to protect your feelings."

And Alec could see the logic in that, could understand the necessity of it, but it still left him with a sore taste in his mouth. He decided, right then, that if they found a solution to this problem, it would be without Aline or Lydia. It would be between them, their chaotic team, but a team nonetheless, because they cared enough to protect each other in all the ways that matter.

"Anyway," Aline went on, "the conversation between Valentine and his supposed lawyer goes on for a while. We eventually figured out that they use some kind of coded language and that's how Valentine gave the order for the killing of his guards." She paused, her face a perfect mask of professionalism. "That's also how he was informed of Magnus' survival… And that's how he sent a professional killer after you."

"Great," Simon said in a tone that suggested the opposite. "That's great. I love it when my life is in danger and it may or may not be my girlfriend's mother trying to kill us."

"The voice," Isabelle breathed out suddenly, gaze lost into space. "I knew that voice."

She leaped to her feet and pointed a firm finger at Aline.

"Play that recording again," she demanded, her voice leaving no room for negotiation.

Aline frowned, but obliged.

Isabelle turned towards Luke and Hodge, his eyes almost frantic. "Listen! I know that voice!"

"You shot a man," the foreign voice said again. "There's not much I can do to help you."

As much as Alec tried to twist his brain upside down, he couldn't place it, couldn't find one single familiar note to it, except for the strange similarity with Valentine's own dragging voice.

"Oh fuck," Luke muttered under his breath, his eyes widening slowly.

Alec didn't have the time to be shocked at Luke for swearing because Isabelle yelled, "Yes!" and promptly hit Luke on the shoulder as realization made his dark skin pale a little.

"Is that -" Hodge started, but he cut himself, shaking his head in bewilderment. "That doesn't make sense."

"That's his voice, though," Luke said solemnly.

"Can you three stop that shit and share the apparently important piece of information with us?" Jace snapped, glaring at Isabelle when she kicked his shin.

"That voice," Hodge said. "We know that voice. It's the guy we sold the ruby to in Las Vegas."

"That's great!" Clary exclaimed out of the blue, pulling out of the self-inflicted trance she had been into for a while.

Alec wondered if she had officially lost it. "How is that great? That just means we got screwed over from the start! That fucker bought the ruby from us just to steal back the money!"

"No," Clary said, shaking her head vigorously. "That means you," she added, pointing a finger at Isabelle, Luke and Hodge, "know what he looks like."

She bended towards the coffee table in Magnus' living room and picked up a piece of paper and a pencil. "That means I can draw him."

.

Magnus closed his bedroom door behind him and leaned against it, watching powerlessly as Ragnor started pacing back and forth, his breathing sporadic.

"I can't," he muttered to himself, seemingly oblivious to Magnus' presence in the room. "I can't. I can't."

Ragnor stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes shooting up to bore straight into Magnus'.

"I can't," he repeated, as if it suddenly made sense. "I can't do this, Magnus. I can't."

Magnus pushed from the door and strode forward, crowding his head in both his hands.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he murmured reassuringly, his thumb lightly stroking against his cheek.

"I do," Ragnor protested, shaking his head, "I have to. I have to tell you. You need to know. But I can't. I fucking can't."

He took a shaky breath, stepping away from Magnus to tug at his own hair, closing his eyes in an attempt at composing himself. Magnus' hands fell flat against his sides.

The bullet didn't do it.

As if he was reading his mind, Ragnor stopped fretting. It was like he had switched off something and he was suddenly utterly immobile. Apart from the exaggerated inhales he was taking, he seemed completely calm and composed. Magnus was oddly jealous of how easily he pulled himself back together.

Then again, he supposed Ragnor had more practice than he did in that matter.

"His name is Sebastian," Ragnor said slowly and he winced, like the simple name was enough to rip something inside of him.

Magnus stepped forward again and took Ragnor's hand in his, tugging on it to push him lightly towards the bed. He sat on the edge, tapping the space next to him to push his friend to do the same. Ragnor sighed, but obliged.

His hand was trembling in his, the only evidence of how he truly felt.

Magnus admired the poise with which he managed to appear so calm when there was obviously a storm raging in his mind.

"I'm not sure what he is to Valentine," Ragnor continued. He closed his eyes, took another deep breath and didn't open them when he kept talking, "but I know what he is to me. He's the executor that holds the rope to hang me."

The bullet didn't do it.

"He's my boogeyman."

"Ragnor, you don't have to tell me," Magnus murmured and immediately mentally chastised himself.

He wasn't scared that Ragnor would snap and panic while telling his story. He was terrified of hearing it. He didn't want to know what Ragnor had been through. He didn't want to know what Ragnor had endured because of him.

"I do," Ragnor whispered, his voice wavering slightly. "You need to know what you're up against. He's not… He's not normal. Magnus, he's fucking insane."

Magnus didn't reply. His mouth felt dry and he wasn't sure he would have been able to speak anyway.

"He likes to hurt people," Ragnor continued. "If Valentine had someone he wanted to get rid of, Sebastian was doing it and… sometimes, he'd come and see me afterwards and - Magnus - I swear, the look in his eyes. It was pure wickedness. Evil. I've never seen anything quite like it."

"What did he do to you?" Magnus asked, because he needed to know, not because of some kind of morbid curiosity, but to apprehend the length of his responsibilities.

The bullet didn't do it.

"He killed me," Ragnor said with devastating simplicity.

Magnus had to bite the inside of his cheek to repress the tears that were threatening to come out. Ragnor wasn't crying. He had no right to do so himself.

He felt blood in his mouth, and the metallic taste was surprisingly grounding, too perturbing for Magnus to focus on the pounding of his heart.

The bullet didn't do it.

"He broke me," Ragnor murmured, his fist clenching on his knee.

Without a warning, he started unbuttoning his shirt and before Magnus could stop him - although he wasn't sure he would have - he was shrugging it off. His skin was pale and he was skinnier than Magnus remembered him, his ribs apparent. There were a few scars on his stomach, faded to a dim white by the time but Ragnor shook his head and turned his back to Magnus.

Magnus gasped and choked on the sob he had so desperately tried to smother.

"You know the worst thing?" Ragnor asked softly, his voice somehow equally bitter and broken. "He made me like Valentine. When it was Valentine coming through the door, I was almost happy because I knew I wouldn't have to endure his sick games."

Ragnor's back was an intricate map of ugly scars and burnt marks, entwining together in a dreadful pattern. At some places, Magnus could distinguish with frightening accuracy the object Ragnor's persecutor had used to scar him. There, a knife. Here, the roughness of barbed wire.

And there, in the middle of his back, the lines and scars stopped to form a circle in the middle of which laid a burnt S, like the devil himself had branded Ragnor his to play with.

Magnus shook his head, but the tears were already gathering at the corner of his eyes.

Ragnor. Ragnor had suffered so much. Ragnor had been through hell.

Because of him.

The bullet didn't do it. I did.

His heart in his throat, Magnus leaned his forehead against Ragnor's bare back and cried.

I did.

.

It took Magnus a while to stop crying. When he did, he felt drained of his energy and Ragnor had fallen asleep on his bed, his shirt back on.

He had told Magnus in hushed tones the reality of his ordeal, from the inevitable loneliness to the utter terror every time he heard footsteps in the corridor of the Morgenstern manor.

He told him about how it was still haunting him, some days. How he had to take a moment to make sure Sebastian wasn't here every time he walked next to a boy with hair as blonde as a wheat field. How he could still hear his drawling, cruel voice sometimes, and how the recording had brought him back into that room, back under a rule he couldn't hope to overthrow. *stopping point*

He told him about the burns and the wicked laughter that had accompanied them. He told him about the ripping of the knife through his ribs, an "experience" meant for Sebastian to observe how a man looked like while he was bleeding out.

He told him about how he had wished to die so, so many times and how the thought of seeing his friends again, Magnus, and Catarina, and Raphael, was the only thing that had kept him sane.

And all Magnus could hear, all that time, was: why did you do this to me?

Why did you let them do this to me?

Magnus had never seen himself as a good person. Not in the religious term of the word, and most certainly not in the juridic term of the word. But, for a long time, he had thought that, at the very least, his morals were good.

But he wasn't so sure anymore.

How could he when the people close to him ended up broken beyond repair or dead?

Ragnor. Raphael. Clary. Camille. Alec.

Oh, Alec.

It was like no matter what he did, the people he cared about were bound to be hurt in the end.

His heart falling into a pitless abyss, Magnus made a choice.

He was toxic and if there was nothing he could do to help Ragnor and even less to help Camille, he could still prevent the same from happening to the one person he loved perhaps more than the others.

He rose to his feet and locked himself in the bathroom, wiping his smudged makeup off. Slowly, he fixed it, taking special care in hiding the redness of his cheeks, fully aware he wouldn't be able to do the same with his eyes.

When he was satisfied - or as satisfied as he'd be - with the result, he blew out a deep breath, cursing inwardly when it came out as a wavering sob instead. He gritted his teeth, closing his eyes to pull himself together and waited until his heartbeat was back under control before he came out of the bathroom, heading straight to the living room.

The rest of the team was still gathered there, everyone focused on Clary, who was sketching something on a piece of paper while Luke, Hodge and Isabelle were hovering over her shoulders.

They looked up at him when he came in and when Clary grinned at him, his heart clenched in his chest.

"We know what he looks like," she exclaimed with an enthusiasm he couldn't share.

He ignored her, turning to Raphael instead, who was glancing back with an expectant flicker in his eyes.

"He's asleep on my bed," Magnus told him evenly. "Go."

Raphael didn't waste another second, disappearing in the corridor.

Clary rose to her feet, showing him the drawing in her hands.

Even her artistic skills couldn't hide that the guy was objectively handsome. Yet, Magnus thought he was the vilest face he had seen in his life.

"His name is Sebastian," he said slowly.

He saw, from the corner of his eyes, that Luke was about to speak, probably to ask him how he knew that much. But Magnus held a hand up, effectively shutting him up.

"I think you should all go home," he said.

When none of them moved, he added a low, "Please. I need to get some sleep. Ragnor doesn't feel well. I'll call Luke tomorrow to fill me in."

Luke seemed to hesitate, probably reading in his eyes the shattering misery, but he nodded and gestured for the rest of the group to move along.

Luke and Hodge were out first, Lydia and Aline on their feet. Simon stopped to squeeze his shoulder, Isabelle and Clary to peck his cheek, and Jace nodded at him, but Magnus found no comfort in either of these yet amiable attentions. Catarina kissed his forehead and promised to call the next day, but Magnus remained impassible.

He had to do this now. He had no choice.

The bullet didn't do it. I did.

When Alec lingered behind, Magnus had to clench his fists to stop his hands from shaking too much. He walked up to Magnus, stopping in front of him.

"I'm going to go talk to my mother with Jace and Izzy," he said, reaching out to push a strand of hair away from Magnus' forehead. Magnus digged his nails into his palms. "I'll be back later. Go to sleep, I'll let myself in."

I did. I did. I did.

"Please don't," Magnus murmured.

Alec frowned, genuinely confused. "What?"

"Please don't come back."

Alec's mouth dropped open, but his eyes darted to the corridor that led to Magnus' bedroom and he nodded.

"Okay," he replied, although it sounded like he was dreading the idea of not coming back to Magnus even in the middle of the night. "Take care of Ragnor. I'll come by tomorrow."

The bullet didn't do it. I did. I am toxic.

"No, Alec," Magnus whispered, shaking his head. "Not tomorrow either. Please don't come back."

Magnus couldn't watch as realization dawned and Alec understood the true meaning of his words.

"Magnus," he breathed.

It was a plea, and Magnus almost heard the pieces of his heart shattering on the floor.

"Don't do this," Alec demanded, reaching out to cup one of his cheeks in his hand. "I love you."

Magnus remembered the time these words had filled him with pure glee, before his mind had started playing games with him. Before he had realized how dangerous they were for Alec.

"I know," he said, "and I love you."

Alec released a relieved sigh, but Magnus shook his head, refusing to give him false hopes on where this conversation was going. It was too late, there was no going back.

"But it isn't enough," he added, gently pushing his hand away, and this time, he couldn't look away as Alec's handsome features purely decomposed in a crestfallen expression to rip the remaining of his heart in half.

"Magnus, please," he murmured, like he was afraid of scaring him away if he spoke any louder. "This isn't the solution. You're not helping yourself."

Magnus scoffed. How could he believe for one second Magnus was thinking of himself? He was already a lost cause. But Alec wasn't.

Alec was sweet, and caring, and more precious than every treasure Magnus had ever stolen.

"I'm not doing this for me," Magnus replied truthfully.

"Don't tell me you're doing it for me," Alec answered at once, his voice wavering with both mild anger and utter misery. "That's bullshit."

Magnus' words failed him.

He ducked his head, unable to hold Alec's thunderous gaze any longer.

"Please, go."

He didn't recognize his own voice, hated how weak and pleading it sounded. When had he stopped being Magnus freaking Bane to turn into that disgusting empty shell instead?

"Magnus," Alec murmured and without a warning he crowded his face between his hands, smashing their mouths together.

Magnus sobbed against his lips, the desperation in Alec's every move thoroughly matching the one that drove him when he couldn't help but kiss back.

Magnus left himself take it all in. He memorized the way Alec's lips fitted perfectly against his own, like they had been made for him. He collected every detail, from the fading smell of his cologne after an awfully long day to the feeling of his teeth nipping at his bottom lip to the way Alec's hands felt as they held him almost forcefully against him. He stored all of that in a corner of his brain, promising himself he would treasure the memories until he had no choice but to let go of them to protect his sanity.

As if he had an ounce of sanity left to protect.

It took everything he had, strength he had thought long gone, to push Alec away, proceeding as gently as he could while remaining firm.

"Please," he whispered. "Don't make this harder."

"Magnus," Alec pleaded, his voice breaking on a name that he had murmured reverently so many times before. "We're stronger than this."

Magnus closed his eyes, but opened them again a second later to stare into Alec's, wide and shining with unshed tears. "You are, Alexander. I'm not."

He stepped away, afraid he wouldn't be able to refrain himself from kissing Alec again if he didn't, and opened the front door.

"Please," he asked again. "Go."

Alec seemed like he was about to argue some more, and deep down, perhaps Magnus selfishly hoped he would, but his shoulders slumped in defeat and, dropping one last kiss on Magnus' forehead, whispering one last "I love you" in his ear, he disappeared through the door, taking Magnus' heart with him.

Magnus closed the door in a rush, afraid he would run after Alec to convince him to stay if he didn't.

He didn't move. He didn't crumble to the floor like he thought he would. He didn't screamed in agony.

He stayed there, his hand on the doorknob, letting his body and mind slowly comprehend that his chest would consist of a empty hole as of now.

He felt hollow.

It wasn't until he felt a hand of his shoulder and Raphael stepped in front of him, tugging him into his arms, that he realized what had just happened. What he had just done.

And he burst into tears.

"I had no choice," he mused through his sobs, clutching Raphael's shirt into an unforgiving grip. "I had to do it. I had no choice."

Raphael didn't reply, shushing him quietly, his hand gently stroking Magnus' head like he was consoling a child.

"I had no choice," he whimpered.

He wondered if that was what devastation felt like.

Nothing more than a void in his mind and agony in his heart.

I know you won't believe me but this time, I swear, I truly am sorry... :(

I don't know when I'll be able to publish the next chapter! I have a few things I need to work on and I don't have any chapter left in advance so all I can do is ask you to be patient! I'll try not to keep you waiting for too long.

This was beta'd by the amazing Roja 3.

If you have yelling to do... you know the drill:
I'm on tumblr lecrit and on twitter _L_ecrit

All the love,
L.