It had been two days since it happened. Truth be told, Alec was quite tired of the way everyone was walking on eggshells around him. Only saying "Yes, Sir." or "Right away, Sir.", as if he would explode if they dared to say no to him. He planned on distracting himself with work, but he couldn't exactly do that if every single one of his subordinates kept reminding him of what had happened. He had been steadily making progress through the mountainous pile of paperwork that was just as much a part of his desk as his pen.

Normally, with every one file done, a new one had already arrived. But now? With his single-minded focus, the stack had miraculously thinned down to one file - the one currently opened in front of him, with none other than his husband's name staring back at him in glaring black font.

Mission report, the title read. What it actually was, was the death announcement of the High Warlock of Alicante. Alec was half-tempted to just sign it and chuck it in with all the other files. Perhaps it was his inner masochist that caused him to read through the entire thing. Maybe reading about his death from an objective point of view would actually help him to process the loss, he told himself. LIES, his own mind screamed at him. Nothing in the world would ever be able to fix it or dull the pain and thinking otherwise was only a foolish attempt at deceiving himself. Even time felt inconsequential to the depth of his grief.

Alec read it, slowly and diligently. He didn't turn to the punching bags until his knuckles were bleeding; he also didn't shoot arrows until his inner elbow was red with scars. He just did this instead. He didn't know which was the best way to cope, as all were still practices of harming himself, either physically or just emotionally.

But it was better than just hole-ing himself up in the loft, lying down and staring aimlessly at the ceiling. That was what he did right after the funeral. At least now he was being productive, though arguably at the cost of his own mental health.

He thought it must be unhealthy, angelic powers aside, staying awake for three days straight and only running on three cups of coffee every day. Alec burned the nourishment and stamina runes into his own skin Raziel knows how many times. He was aware that he was running himself dangerously close to the boundary no shadowhunter ever dared cross, and he counted on it.

A sleep borne out of sheer exhaustion sounded like heaven, considering he just couldn't do it himself. He knew he could ask Cat for a sleeping potion, and it would be the healthier option, but that would also mean facing her pitying look when she saw how dishevelled and all-around a mess he looked right now.

He grabbed the mug sitting at the edge of his desk, slurped the last drops inside, and went to fill it again. But before he could even reach the door, he felt his own body shutting down. He vaguely heard the sound of the mug crashing to the floor and breaking to pieces. His last thought was that it must have alerted someone and they would enter soon. He then fell down to the ground right then and there, although his fall was gentler than he expected - almost like a cold gust of air was softening the impact.

Alec woke up from a dreamless sleep, but his body still felt like he had just fought a Dragonidae demon with no backup. Not even speaking about how every single part of him just wanted to curl up and die. He had made it for two days, he could hopefully survive another. He sleepily wiped his own eyes before opening them, then repeated the action as his bloodshot eyes set on something so absurd that he thought it could only be his own wistful dream or a sleep-deprived hallucination.

He couldn't be here.

There was no way that he was actually here. Right here, lounging on the couch while looking so gently at him. Alec felt like he was about to combust. Being burned through the overheating of his own heart with how quickly it was beating, was not on his list of ways he expected his life to end. He turned away and took a lungful of air to try calming himself down, and failed. He turned back, expecting him to be gone; yet there he was, still sitting there. Still looking stunning as always, though his smile had significantly turned sadder with each second Alec spent just staring at him in disbelief. So, he chose to break the uncomfortable silence.

Only to be beaten to it by someone else. "Fancy meeting you here, Alexander."

Alec knew he should act differently in case this was not really him. It could be a spy (highly unlikely) or a shapeshifting demon (far more likely). But force of habit had him immediately replying with an eye roll and a, "Very funny, Magnus."

The chuckle it elicited caused his insides to feel warm, endlessly grateful that he could hear it again. He might be losing his mind, but at least he could see Magnus again, translucent as he may be.

Wait.

"Are you a ghost?" Alec didn't know what he was going to do. He didn't think his own mind was creative enough to dream of something like this; there was no denying how real it felt, the unique sensation of silk against skin, the breezy air that was a staple of Alicante, and the smell of sandalwood that still permeated the loft. Although, the slight thinning of said smell, innocuous as it may be, sent a pang of sadness through Alec.

"Way to state the obvious, darling."

"I just meant that it's either me wanting to see you so much that I dream of your ghost or you're actually here. I don't know which is more impossible."

Magnus, or not Magnus, sat up from his chair, rising gracefully like a king standing from his throne. Alec's heart traitorously leaped in his chest seeing that, because he had missed this man, all his tiny quirks included.

"Isn't it enough to just know that I'm here? No need to ask how or why."

"I wish it's that easy."

"It could be."

Alec didn't mean to shout, but apparently all of the pent-up heartbreak he had been feeling for the last couple of days gave way to the hurt and anger festered inside. A part of Alec wanted to spew love confessions at him; yet, he also wanted to throw something right at his beautiful face, to just yell at him for leaving, to blame him for something that was very much out of Magnus' control.

Matters of the heart were fickle. Logic might try to convince otherwise, but feelings bulldoze through everything that doesn't align with their whims. He knew he shouldn't be angry at Magnus, he really shouldn't. That didn't mean he could stop himself from doing it.

Emotions cloud judgement. Never before had he felt that mantra ring more true.

"No, it's not!" Alec crossed his arms in front of his chest; a sign that he was pulling up the walls around himself, in a way he never did towards his husband. Judging by the glint in Magnus' eyes, he was also very much aware of that fact.

Magnus sighed, "Fine." He apparently couldn't resist from gently teasing Alec, for he continued with, "Should've married someone less stubborn than myself." The words were accompanied with a light smirk, which promptly dropped when he saw how Alec merely crossed his arms tighter.

"I have unfinished business," Magnus murmured.

Alec waited for a few moments, expecting some sort of follow-up to that very vague response. When none came, he felt even more frustrated and sarcastically said, "Which is what, Magnus? By the angel, how much more cryptic could you get?"

"I'm not being cryptic, I'm being coy." Magnus couldn't help his smile, seeing Alec's guards lower incrementally.

Alec's mind immediately replayed the setting of the first time he had heard those words spoken to him. Pale cheeks lightly tinted pink, his reaction remained the same even after all these years; though, now, it was more due to nostalgia than infatuation.

He raised an eyebrow at Magnus, unmoved in his attempt to find out the truth behind something that may or may not endanger his friends and family. Although, something in Alec recoiled at the thought of having to defend himself against him, or even a mere imposter whose similarities started and ended at surface level.

Magnus gave an unhumorous chuckle. "What else do you think, Alec?"

Alec couldn't keep himself from flinching. Magnus not calling him Alexander always spelled trouble. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to think."

His husband, for there was no other person he could be, stepped closer to Alec. Magnus went to brush the strand of hair hanging loosely in front of Alec's eyes, only for his fingers to slip right through. So, Magnus kept his palm millimetres from his cheek. If Alec concentrated enough, he could feel the coldness on his skin; but it was so contradictory to everything he associated Magnus with - laughter, brightness, colors, warmth.

Magnus confessed, "You are, Alexander. My unfinished business could never be anything but you."

Alec wanted to say something in reply, but he was struck speechless out of disbelief that he was apparently Magnus' unfinished business. But why? He almost asked him out loud, but Magnus already spoke again before he could.

"I just, I can't bear the thought of you being unhappy, Alexander."

Hearing that, Alec unwittingly copied Magnus' earlier chuckle; because how could he not? The entire statement sounded absolutely ridiculous to him. "Unhappy? How else do you expect I would feel, Magnus? Tell me." His voice rose nearer the end.

Alec scoffed, "I think I am way past unhappy at this point."

"I'm not asking you to be happy all the time. But this? I know you; I don't want to see you try to handle everything the way you used to, I want you to fully mourn me. Go ahead and cry to your heart's content. Let go for once." Throughout, Magnus waved his incorporeal arms around as though it would somehow help convince Alec. If the situation had been any less emotionally-charged, he would've laughed at the comical sight.

"After that? I just want you to move on," Magnus pleaded.

"If you truly know me, you wouldn't dare ask for a miracle." Alec lifted himself up from the bed he didn't even remember getting into and stepped forward until they were inches apart, his hot breath mingling with the cold air emanating from Magnus.

"Maybe I am asking because I know you," Magnus cocked his head. Alec knows that look, it's his I-am-very-persuasive expression. He wanted to deny it, but he had fallen prey to that look far too often; and so far, he was not too sure of his current odds.

"What you're implying, that I want or even need someone to replace you, that I would ever want another love, is absolutely wrong."

"I'm not saying they should replace me, but at least I want you to live your life to the fullest. God, you're still young, Alec - you still have your whole life ahead of you. I don't want to, no, I refuse to let you waste it."

Alec felt his anger bubble up again, irate at how easily Magnus dismissed himself in Alec's eyes. Had I failed in that? That I never showed him just how much he meant to me. He wanted to just be angry, like how he always was with other people who were not Magnus. However, just one look at his face made his anger simmer down. So, really, there was only one course of action. Alec closed his eyes.

He must have looked weird, standing there with his eyes closed for what seemed to be no reason at all. Magnus wasted no time to voice his confusion. "What are you doing?"

Alec was not looking forward to explaining himself, but was well aware that he had to. "You're in my bedroom."

"Our bedroom," Magnus interjected.

Alec merely continued like no sound but the breeze had been heard, "But I can't be angry at you while you look like that."

"Like what?" He could hear how smug Magnus was; it made Alec want to kiss the not-so-living daylights out of him; which was a problem, considering his there-but-not-really body. Also, his teasing was totally uncool, or unhot, was more like it.

"Oh, you know what." He knew that Magnus knew that Alec knew that he knew, but he's just being himself, per usual.

Alec had to hold back a snort hearing Magnus put on an exaggeratedly innocent voice. "What on earth are you accusing me of being aware of? Would you care to explain, Alexander?"

He huffed before answering, "Drop dead gorgeous." His jaw dropped open when he heard Magnus let out a giggle which subsequently turned to a boisterous guffaw. He looked so delightfully amused but Alec couldn't help his frown as he went through his own words then blushed as red as a strawberry. "Pun very much not intended."

Groaning at his own unintentional joke, Alec finally opened his eyes and said, "Look, Magnus. I'm sorry, but I just can't do this right now. I don't think I will ever be ready to have this conversation."

He thought Magnus would argue with him, to rail against Alec's current stance, yet he only smiled and conceded, "Two weeks. Okay? You don't need to move on right away, but I don't want you to deny yourself that liberty out of some misguided loyalty to me. Two weeks, and then we'll revisit this again. Deal?"

"I think a month would suffice more," Alec tried to suggest but then quickly amended his statement upon seeing the intense glare boring directly into his eyes. "Fine, deal. Two weeks." They both raised their hands planning to shake each other's, but fell victim to laughter when they only went right through.

Magnus clapped his hands together, "Well, I will get us, you," he pointed at Alec, "something to eat. You must be starving, you ridiculous man." Alec was indeed starving, which his stomach apparently wanted to declare at that exact moment with a resounding rumble. His husband simply grinned upon hearing it before leaving the room.

Seeing Magnus phase through the wall made him blink in surprise, though he really should have expected that. He stared fondly at the spot where Magnus was standing before wondering incredulously out loud, "How are you going to grab food if you can't touch anything?"

He thought Magnus must've been far away enough that he wouldn't be able to hear him. Alec was proven wrong when Magnus simply marched inside and curled a finger to gesture for him to follow.

"Getting dinner with my dead husband, certainly not the weirdest Tuesday I've ever had." He felt blessed that he was able to draw out the fourth chuckle from Magnus that day. Humor may seem to be his current way to cope with the frankly tragic turn his life had taken lately.