Between Burroughs
by ariviand
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the following characters; they belong to Cassandra Clare, author of The Mortal Instruments.
A/N: All right. I can only hold out for so long before the number of reviews poking me to update make me feel guilty and slack and here I am, attempting to try to write another chapter. I have no idea where this is going to go. I'm trying to canon review the series both for this story and the Institute, so I am working; I'm just not putting out. But you'll see. And you'll thank me for doing my homework.
I'm going to dedicate this chapter to Some Things Don't Have to End and her TWIN (wtf) lettheobsessionbegin. Keep reading and reviewing, and you too may have your day right up here in bold print.
Chapter 53: Bar
"Mom. It's Alec," he breathed after a pause, realizing it was an awkward beginning. But the only thing more unnerving than speaking to Maryse Lightwood was trying to leave an intelligent message on her voicemail, which - Alec belatedly remembered, had a time limit. He had to pull it together and finish this.
"There was a demon attack last night." There was no sugar-coating the news with shadowhunters. The other way around, his mother wouldn't have done it for him, so Alec tried to give it to her straight. "Everyone is all right. Magnus was present to heal the wounded. It's the damage to the Institute that is of greater concern." Was it the right time to mention they would also require a priest to consecrate the grounds? No, that would be too complicated to go into in less than thirty seconds.
"There is structural damage to the ceiling. Part of the roof caved in. Most of the windows in the residential wing are shattered and a number of the doors. There was a fire in the hallway, but it's been contained. I'll call today to get permission for repairs and make the proper arrangements." Alec sounded more confident as the message wore on, and he was relieved. Details were easy to focus on - it was talking about anything remotely personal that usually gave him trouble, especially with his mother. But talking business was fine. That was how they related best.
Alec paused for a moment, trying to mentally edit and decide what else he should add. Worrying on the permanent imprints in his lower lip, Alec concluded: "I hope you are well. We haven't heard from you, and..." I worry, Alec silently added, but it was too embarrassing to admit that aloud, so he stopped short. "Please let me know if you have any news on Wyrick, and I will do the same. Goodbye, mother."
The cell phone beeped as he ended the call, then lowered the phone to the bed. Almost as soon as he had, the door rattled once, followed by a very fluent curse.
"Not this again," Magnus hissed from the hallway.
Alec sighed, glancing away from the door that stood precariously between them. Of course, the hinges and the lock were broken from the night before, but Alec remembered the rune he had previously used to keep the warlock out. Alec wanted some privacy while he called his mother, which was kind of hard to ensure when the door was gaping open, so he opted to seal the door and ensure no one passing in the hallway was going to bother him.
And he would be lying if he said it had nothing to do with wanting to avoid Magnus for other reasons, as well. He wasn't ready for that yet.
"I have to make another call," Alec said, frowning at the opposite wall.
"Are you planning on letting me in at all today or should I see myself back home to Brooklyn?"
"Suit yourself," Alec answered in annoyance. He heard something thud against the door and he waited for the sound of the warlock's retreating footfalls, heading back down the hall. Alec wasn't sure he could make them out, but it didn't matter. Magnus wasn't coming in. So Alec rose from the bed. He needed a piece of paper and his stele. There was no reaching the Clave by conventional means, not for this.
A fire message would suit, though Alec wasn't used to being the one standing in as liaison. Hodge or his parents had better handwriting, not to mention they related better to the older shadowhunters of the previous generations.
But you're an adult now. They're your peers, Alec reminded himself.
Tapping the end of the stele against his abused lower lip, Alec thought about the phrasing of this letter for a minute. Of course, with the Clave he could spare no detail. He would have to make mention of Daniel Wyrick as the suspected cause for all the trouble, the deconsecration of the Institute, the summoning of the demons - doubtless by the warlock himself, simply to cause chaos and suffering. He might as well add the news of Isabelle's attack to stress the scope of the threat the Downworlder posed. He had already personally made an attempt on the lives of four shadowhunters. Indirectly, he had tried to harm more than that, in launching the attack on the Institute. If they did not come out to meet him, obviously Wyrick was sending a dangerous message: he was coming for them, and he wasn't doing anything by half.
How one man could harbor so much hate, Alec couldn't fully understand. He could never fully grasp Valentine's motivations or his willingness to exterminate entire races. He could barely understand why his parents felt compelled to back him once.
That one warlock would stand against shadowhunters over the death of a loved one seemed suicide. Maybe there was a deeper dislike of the Nephilim.
Whatever the case, he was a formidable opponent and a definite problem. It would take more than their small group to see it through to the end, and Alec fervently hoped there would be no more unintentional accidents or unforeseen problems.
It was as he was just about to lower the stele to the paper, that it dawned on Alec that Magnus was probably heading back to Brooklyn right now, alone.
He may be a very powerful warlock - the High Warlock of Brooklyn, in fact, but Alec had just casually told him to go away, alone, like he wasn't in danger. Point in fact, Alec hadn't even had time to think of the danger, and now that he realized the full scope of what he had done, Alec felt sick.
His dream from last night hit him with a terrible sense of foreboding.
Dropping the stele, the shadowhunter launched himself to his feet and rushed for the broken door. The energy crackled, but the ward was broken as soon as he forcibly opened the door himself, bursting out into the hall-
-and directly into the path of his boyfriend, his chest colliding with another, sending them both stumbling a few steps towards the opposite wall.
"You didn't have to make a phone call," Magnus replied after a moment, over the collision.
"What?" Alec gasped, straightening up. He was too relieved that Magnus had stayed to be angry. But he couldn't say the same for Magnus; Magnus stiffly stared back at Alec, looking down at him from the elegant line of his glittery nose.
"I didn't hear your voice through the door. So you've kept me waiting out here for nothing."
"No," Alec objected, running an agitated hand back through his hair. "I was actually writing a fire message to the Clave."
"Ah. Then why lie to me?"
"I don't know, Magnus," Alec said in exasperation. "It took less time to say 'I have to make a phone call' than to say, 'please leave me alone for a few minutes to think of a way to phrase this fire message?' "
"And yet it took you less than ten seconds just now," Magnus replied, not letting up.
Alec was angry now. He still hadn't finished what he set out to do, which only proved his point - this was exactly why Alec had holed himself off in his room, preventing any interruptions.
"I thought you were leaving," Alec huffed, though his chest throbbed at the idea.
"Not before we got a chance to talk," Magnus said, crossing his arms over his chest, the soft material of his shirt bunching.
"Fine. But I have to do this first," Alec said, gesturing impatiently back towards the open, ruined door.
"Very well," Magnus conceded. But as Alec turned away to head back into his room, Magnus followed him through the doorway, without a locking rune to stop him. Alec was startled when the door slammed shut behind them both. He turned just as Magnus was lowering his wrist, sealing the door again with his own magic.
"Write your note," the warlock advised. "I'll be right here."
Alec's shoulders went up, tense all over again.
Obviously, there was no getting out of it. Damnit.
Magnus's intense stare followed him as he returned to the blank piece of paper, which did not make it any easier to think as he reached for his stele. Alec shot a sidelong glare at the warlock, then tried very hard to mentally shut him out as he started to compose the first line.
After the first paragraph, he'd almost forgotten Magnus was still standing there. Almost.
But inevitably the letter had to come to an end, and Alec folded it up and sent it on its way.
There was a note of finality as the paper burnt and the deed was done. It meant he would have to face Magnus after all, a task even more daunting than informing the Clave.
Slowly, very slowly, Alec turned around to face the warlock. It didn't help that from where Magnus stood, the bathroom door was open several feet behind him. Alec couldn't help looking at it. The open door brought to mind the memories of the time they'd spent in that cramped room, and Alec's face heated up like the steam of the shower was still present, staining his cheeks.
It was very hard to continue looking up at Magnus, when the compulsion to look away, or better yet, back up to the broken window and make a desperate leap, was very strong. The cooler breeze against Alec's back was refreshing. At least he had some relief, however small - perhaps the only positive thing to come out of the destruction.
