Alec was aware of every step he took, of everything he walked past in the city that was almost everything he had ever known in his short life. The same city that was the backdrop of the majority of his life story. Yet, he didn't know what he was doing, less so where he was going, other than once more following whatever path his feet chose to tread.
He initially ran just to get away from the institute. It was only the second day back in New York, and he was already exhausted with the unmistakable coddling Isabelle had been doing. Imagine if they were also aware of Magnus - Alec couldn't help his shudder at the mere thought. They would have never let him out of their sight.
Alec knew that they were still worried, and rightfully so. Jace and Clary had undoubtedly told their family of his progress, but also of the times his attempts came short. He knew how he still looked up while brewing a cup of coffee in the kitchen, expecting the chaste kiss and warm gaze that never came.
It was the little things like that, enough to undo all the other leaps and bounds of progress. None of it mattered. Not if he still missed Magnus with every atom in himself. Oh, how he missed his husband.
The same husband who was in the same city as he was, alive and well - but having forgotten Alec's existence and everything that they were.
What could he even do in this situation? Alec thought, as he clenched and unclenched his hands. He would always love Magnus, but a traitorous part of him was enraged by how he could never move on because of him. It was never Magnus' intention, sure; but his husband made it damn sure that he would never be able to even so much as think about it.
A small part of Magnus was a beautiful torture handmade for Alec, and he could never get enough of it. The same way a moth was drawn to a flame, he was likewise drawn to the bright and shining beacon chasing away the dreariness from his life.
Nonetheless, Alec jerked to a stop in a familiar place. It shouldn't have been that familiar to him. "Ran into demons while grabbing dinner," was what he had said when he was found that night.
By all means, it was a normal night for everyone. They had put it down as a case of recklessness and coincidence that Alec had encountered a whole pack of demons. None of them knew, not of why he was in New York then, and most definitely not of his loss.
They did offer their well-meaning advice and tokens of affection, to Alec's appreciation of such a gesture. Sadly, he only felt raw, like his innards had been scooped out, leaving him a hollow shell wandering the world.
The sun was not yet asleep, still peeking from its bed as if in anticipation. Alec's boots made a sound as it stepped from concrete to wood, to where that same bench still stood unchanged.
Only, it wasn't empty.
Someone, a familiar someone, was seated upon the wooden bench. He was pensively gazing at the dimming sun, elbows resting on his knees while his legs were tucked neatly into his chest. The glasses perched on the bridge of his nose were glinting in the dusk glow, still visible even from afar.
The man's name was pulled out of him in an exhale, "Magnus."
Alec was woefully prepared to bear the weight of a simple stare from that man. He felt himself melt when those beautiful, normal, brown eyes caught his. Still lovely - or perhaps even lovelier - framed by two thin glass lenses, rimmed in black.
He was even more unprepared to see the lack of recognition swimming in his gaze, even if he hadn't expected anything else. Shifting on his feet, Alec brushed his slightly sweaty palms against his faded blue jeans. He couldn't help the way he stepped forward, but he regretted it right after seeing the stunned look Magnus was giving him.
"Hi," Alec spoke up. He couldn't take another second of silence.
Magnus replied, as kind to strangers as he always was, "Hello." Alec could feel his own heart beating loudly, so forceful that he feared it would pop out of his chest.
He knew he could've said anything, introduced himself maybe, or just calmly sat on the empty side of the bench next to Magnus. Like the strangers that they were to each other. But, he was facing Magnus, and breathing the same air as him was enough to make Alec lose any semblance of composure. "You know what? I should just go, I have, um, things to do. Yes. things to, um, do." He pointed vaguely to something behind him, ready to bail at any second.
Alec had only turned halfway, when his name was called out. "Alexander." He spun back and froze in place. Magnus' soft voice would always be melodious to his ears, contrary to the heart-stopping words attached.
Magnus had never met this man in his life, so why was it that he was as familiar to him as his favourite rings? When he saw the man turn around, clearly about to leave, he wouldn't let him. The taller man was too far away for Magnus to physically grab ahold of him, so he wracked his brain for something to say.
He didn't know his name, the stranger never told him, but it was like a puzzle piece slotting into place in his mind. The answer was as clear as ever.
What his mouth uttered out was as unexpected as it wasn't. "Alexander," Magnus sighed. Because, of course, his name had to be Alexander. Everything about him reflected greatness, at least in Magnus' eyes. A part of himself was already swooning like a lovestruck damsel.
However, the swooning might've been more literal than he thought. His head suddenly felt heavy as if weighed down by a ton of bricks. Magnus actually felt himself swaying in place, his legs dropping to the ground, barely registering anything except the panicked expression on the stranger's face. It looked out of place on him, a face that pretty only deserved to exhibit happiness.
"I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me." Magnus thought to himself, trying to convey that to his acquaintance, even as his head felt like it was about to split open. Magnus was evidently failing, given how he could see Alexander's face crumpling in worry and confusion.
He felt himself fall, it could've been a few inches or a few miles, but he felt a hand protecting his head from the brunt of the impact. Then, he was freefalling into the darkness.
Alec was a silent spectator when he saw Magnus, quite literally, fall for him. More precisely, he fell in front of him, but details are irrelevant in the face of poetic romance - or so Magnus himself often said. What was relevant, was Magnus living out the Sleeping Beauty fairy tale and dropping off to a dead faint, leaving Alec to scramble forward just so he could soften the impact of his head hitting the cold metal armrest of the bench.
Alec couldn't help catching a whiff of the smell emanating from Magnus' cologne; it was hard not to when he was supporting a quarter of the man's weight with his arms. It was the same sandalwood scent he'd been missing in his life ever since he lost him, and Alec had to pull himself together lest he break down into tears then and there. He was almost kneeling next to the bench, gently maneuvering the man in his hold into a comfortable sitting position. After he fixed the glasses' position on his face and was in the middle of pulling his hands away, Alec froze when Magnus let out a sudden groan.
He thought that Magnus would jolt awake, presumably yelling at a random stranger (none other than Alec himself) for disrespecting his personal space and acting downright creepy. Or maybe throwing an accusation that Alec was the cause for his loss of consciousness, which was sadly not the most absurd conclusion.
Magnus didn't do any of that, to Alec's relief. He only adjusted his sitting position, his neck now resting against the back wood panelling of the chair. The pose looked awkward, but he seemed comfortable enough that Alec just let it be.
It wasn't long before Magnus stirred awake, blinking his lovely eyes open and straightening his posture. Alec could see the assessing look enter his gaze, looking around the area before suddenly landing on him.
"Alexander," Magnus called out once more, voice slightly groggy but still perfect. The next words were what truly broke Alec, would've toppled him to the ground if he wasn't already kneeling on it, the material of his jeans rubbing uncomfortably against his poor knees - but it was the least of his concern. "My Alexander."
There he was. His husband.
Magnus' eyes were wide, no longer confused, but more like mesmerized. The biggest miracle in Alec's life was looking at him like he was a revelation.
"But how?" Alec whispered lowly, scared that if he spoke any louder, the illusion would shatter - and he would wake up in his empty bed alone. He didn't know what kind of good deeds he had done to deserve this, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.
Magnus smiled at him reassuringly. "Does it matter? I'm here now, sayang." Angel, he had missed that smile.
"It matters if I could lose you again. I can't go through it again, Magnus. You're it for me and please, please don't leave me again." It felt right for him to still be on his knees while Magnus was seated on the chair. Alec had to tilt his head up to stare directly into his eyes, pleading to him and to any angels above who might be listening.
He had prayed many times in his life. It was always so he could be normal, to be the ideal shadowhunter his mother always expected him to be, to fall apart a little less, and to not have to breathe so heavily whenever taking in oxygen felt more like a chore than a bodily function. All the times when the weight of the world weighed too heavily on his young shoulders that he felt like he was suffocating underneath it all.
Praying was a way to pretend that someone else might've cared, and had the power to do something to change the situation. Even if no one ever did.
Not until someone simply waltzed into his life transforming the barren wasteland that was his soul into a blooming garden. The same man whose glittery existence made him feel like he could take on anything the world threw at him and come out on top.
Since his Godforsaken sham of a wedding, all of his prayers were condensed into a single selfish wish. Just let me keep this one. Let me keep him and I won't ever ask for anything else again.
The world could burn down around them and Alec was certain that he would be okay if he still had Magnus, his precious warlock who made him feel invincible.
Magnus must've seen how shaken he was feeling, the tremble in his hands undoubtedly noticeable. His husband immediately pulled him into his arms, and his warm body wrapped around his own served as a delightful reminder for Alec.
Warm. Alive.
Alec could hear the heartbeat from where his head was pressed against Magnus' chest right above where his heart was beating. It was a faster pace than what he was used to, undeniably that of a mundane and not a warlock. Alec's own heart was pacing quicker as if trying to match its soulmate's.
"We have another chance, my love." Magnus laughed, something so utterly carefree and joyful. Alec could feel the happiness his husband was radiating, he was almost glowing with it.
Magnus spoke again, "A happy ending just for us, no conditions." His fingers were softly combing through Alec's dark hair, already tousled from the windy weather. While Magnus' was in perfect form as always, apparently it was just a Magnus Bane thing, with or without magic.
A happy ending? Well, it would only be Alec's lifelong dream, not anything important.
"Whatever happens between then and now is still up in the air, but we'll face it together, won't we?"
Alec pulled back to squint at him, his fingers still hooked around Magnus' soft cotton turtleneck. "If you think I would leave you again, then you're an idiot." He must've looked truly offended as his husband couldn't hold back his chuckle.
If you had told the Alec from a little over four years ago that he would jokingly call the High Warlock of Brooklyn an idiot, then he would've buried his head in the sand like a tattooed ostrich out of shame.
Telling him that said High Warlock would be his husband was guaranteed to garner a similar reaction, even if he would also be secretly pleased about it.
But, such was the way of life. It would always be riddled with unexpected twists and turns, such as having a ghostly husband.
Now, if someone could give him a bottle of tequila for his troubles, Alec would be grateful. He might even steal from Magnus' stocks of centuries old liquor, his husband owed him that much.
Maybe right after he stole a kiss from those kissable lips.
Fin