I am beyond excited to post this chapter! I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And maybe grab some tissues…?

…..

Ty spent the majority of the next few days intentionally avoiding Kit. If Kit noticed, he did Ty the favor of not saying anything or seeking him out. Which was good, because Ty didn't have a good explanation for it. Or any explanation, really.

There was a moment in Kit's office where he had wanted to tell Kit that he'd missed him. That there hadn't been a day that went by at the Scholomance where he didn't wish Kit was there with him. But when he'd opened his mouth to say those things, nothing came out and he walked out of the study in frustration, and hadn't spoken to him since.

He was used to thinking logically, analyzing people and situations, being able to see patterns and evidence that others missed. His Centurion training had only made him better at those things.

And yet, Kit was an absolute mystery to him-an anomaly he couldn't quite decipher. So avoiding him was his only option if he were to remain focused on the investigation. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

Ty's favorite place to hide out alone was in his corner of the library. Sometimes, on the occasion when he didn't feel like being alone, he asked Dru to join him. He had been attempting to develop a better relationship with her since Kit left Los Angeles, but then he went to the Scholomance and even though he had written her letters, a divide has remained between them.

She was with him now, poring over the same case files they'd been staring at for days. It was becoming abundantly clear that they needed more information. Ty had read everything he could about Hemlock poisoning, including its historical significance in being the cause of Socrates' death, and had cross referenced the murders multiple times, but it had proved profusely unconstructive.

Despite hemlock poisoning being a horrific way to die—the victim experiencing rapid loss of neurological functioning and muscle degeneration, all while the victim was fully conscious and aware, it had brought them no closer to determining who was behind it. Or more specifically, why.

Dru frustratedly tossed the files to the table in front of her, sighing in exasperation, "I give up. We've gone over everything. There's nothing. Whoever is doing this is clever. Hemlock can be found pretty much anywhere and we are no closer to understanding why Academy ascendants are being targeted than we were a week ago."

A thought dawned on Ty. He and Livvy had discovered that the Cohort was spying on the Clave-in-exhile, but efforts to figure out how had been fruitless. Still, it made him wonder aloud, "Who do we know who would want to eradicate gifted mundanes from the shadow world?"

Dru looked at him with a puzzled expression. "I don't know. That's the point, Ty."

"Think about it," Ty said. "Who thinks that mundanes and Downworlders are lesser and would want to prevent our ranks from growing?"

Her eyes widened, "The Cohort? But how?"

"That I don't know."

"And why remove the runes?"

Ty considered that briefly, "Because it's symbolic. The voyance and angelic power runes are the first Marks given to Shadowhunters."

Dru appeared lost in thought for a few moments. "If this is true, then we need to warn the Academy."

Ty shook his head, and his fingers fluttered in his lap. He found the strings of his hoodie and began fidgeting with the frayed ends. He had already thought about that. "No. Like you said, we need more evidence. This isn't enough to go off of. We need to keep this to ourselves."

"Ty. There will be more murders if we do nothing."

"We won't catch whoever is doing this if they know we are onto them."

Dru was silent. Ty knew it was awful. He didn't want to risk more lives, but he didn't see another way yet. He was prepared for Dru to argue with him, to be angry and tell him it was wrong. But she didn't. "I don't like it, Ty. But I trust you."

He released a breath he didn't know he was holding. He needed his sister's support more than he could admit out loud. Her trust, after everything he and Kit had kept from her, was as vital as the air he breathed.

"We should tell Kit our suspicions," she said.

He huffed a breath, "You can go tell him."

Dru pursed her lips, then frowned. "You still aren't talking?"

Ty thought back to the morning after his breakdown on the roof. Yes, Kit had apologized for what he said. But that was barely the beginning of it. He was no closer to understanding why Kit left than he was nearly three years ago.

"He won't tell me why he left," he admitted, regretfully.

He braved a glance at Dru, saw the way her eyes softened. "He had his reasons."

"He's told you?" Ty was entirely caught off-guard by that revelation. He was curious, and a little bit jealous, which was an emotion he avoided feeling because it was uncomfortable.

"Kit is my friend. I won't betray his trust, any more than I would betray yours if you told me what happened that night."

"You know what happened that night," Ty said, confused.

"I know that you both said and did some hurtful things. I also know there's a good chance neither of you meant to hurt one another. You two just need to air out your dirty laundry."

What?

"What does our laundry have to do with what happened?"

Dru chuckled, "Sorry, sometimes I forget that you don't always understand euphemisms. I just meant that you two need to talk. Set the record straight."

He imagined how Julian would have drawn that out for him, pretending to understand how those two things correlated. He thanked her anyway for explaining. "It's not that easy."

"I never said it would be."

...

Kit sat at the desk in his study, researching the books on ancient jewelry and artifacts that Catarina had sent at Ty's request. Ty hadn't offered to look through them with him, and Kit hadn't asked him to. Things were still tense between them. Despite his effort to make amends, he was well aware that it didn't even come close to repairing the rift between them. But he had extended the first olive branch; it was Ty's turn to do so.

It was getting late—or early, depending how one looked at it, and the words were beginning to blur on the pages. He thought about etching an energy rune so he could continue, but the thought passed as quickly as it came and the next thing he knew he woke up with his face planted between the pages of the tome. The room around him was illuminated by muted light from the massive window. He groaned, seeing that it was raining.

He lifted his head and stretched out a kink in his neck— and froze mid action.

A pair of wild golden eyes bored into him from the doorway.

Ty's goddamn cat. How long had it been sitting there, staring at him? Was he imagining things, or did it look like the feral cat was getting ready to pounce at him? It had slowly crept toward the desk, eyes never leaving Kit's face.

Kit slowly reached into his desk drawer for his phone, horrified to find that it was dead.

He was trapped.

This is it. This is the end. Goodbye world, it was nice knowing you.

Kit rose from his chair slowly and climbed onto the desk. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it did him absolutely no good; the cat could leap from the floor onto the desk in a single motion, and was a literal killing machine.

"Hey kitty, kitty," he said nervously. "It's cool. I'm cool. Don't eat me, please. I don't want to die today."

"Kit?" He looked up to see Ty standing in the doorway, head tilted and looking at him curiously. "Why are you on top of the desk?"

"Why?" he sputtered. "I don't know, maybe because your pet wants to eat me."

"Nonsense. Even if she did, that desk wouldn't keep you safe."

Of course he had to point that out.

"Not the point," he gritted his teeth.

"Wait, are you—? You're actually afraid of her," Ty laughed, and the sound was like a long forgotten melody, beautiful and enchanting.

"No shit, Sherlock." The sarcastic comment came out of his mouth before he even realized what he was saying. Ty's laughter died instantly, and Kit wanted to kick himself for being a moron. He tried to cover up his mistake. "Of course I'm afraid of her. She's terrifying."

Ty raised his perfect eyebrows, "She is not. And she's not going to eat you, unless you give her a reason to."

"Oh good, that's very comforting," he deadpanned.

Ty rolled his eyes, "I actually came to tell you something." He paused, moving into the room. "Are you really going to stay up there?"

"Yep."

"Suit yourself." He took a seat in an oversized chair by the fireplace, and Shadow hopped up in the chair at his side, curling up and resting her head on his leg, forgetting all about her prey. Ty fiddled with the tufts of fur by her ear.

Kit merely gaped at the sight. How the hell did Ty do it? His affinity for animals was impressive. And so was the apparent bond between him and the feline. He wondered how Ty came to have the lynx as his pet in the first place.

He managed to avert his gaze from the cat that no longer seemed to care about him. He didn't move from his perch though. "So what did you want to tell me?"

Ty filled him in on the potential revelation he and Dru had made, keeping his gaze fixated on a spot just above Kit's shoulder. Kit listened with interest, and relished the sound of Ty's deep, ridiculously lovely voice. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. Now was not the time to admire Ty's beautiful everything.

Kit did not like the idea of the Cohort being behind the attacks. But also, it was no secret that the Cohort couldn't leave Idris, so if they were responsible, how were they managing it?

"Do you think the mysterious ring and these murders are connected?"

"I'm not sure. I think you were right the other morning."

"About what?"

"About needing to pay your vampire prisoner a visit."

Kit was thoughtful for a moment. "Dalton and I will go tonight. Fresh faces might do some good."

"I'm going with you." He said it with such finality that Kit knew there was no point arguing. Not that he would have told Ty no to helping with the investigation. But the thought of being with just Ty and Dalton on a mission set him immediately on edge. Especially after his idiotic Sherlock comment.

"Alright. We will go after dinner."

Ty nodded, "After dinner, then."

Ty got up from his seat. Kit watched as the lynx stretched out languidly before rising to follow her human out the door. Kit breathed a sigh of relief, finally able to remove himself from the top of his desk.

...

Kit entered the training room after breakfast in quite a mood. Ty had disappeared after the ordeal in the study and Kit was still mentally berating himself for never thinking before he opened his mouth.

He spotted Jaime with Dru and Thais on the far side of the room, chatting and laughing. He approached them, gripped Jaime by the elbow and dragged him into the center of the floor.

"You. Me. Hand to hand combat, now."

"Well aren't you just a fucking ray of sunshine this morning?" Jaime quipped, making Kit want to pummel him into the floor.

Kit heard laughter from the two girls standing off to the side.

"This ray of sunshine would very much like to beat your ass into the ground. Try not to disappoint me today."

Jaime smirked, "I'll do my best, pendejo."

It was exactly what Kit wanted. Jaime didn't hold back when he knew Kit wanted to spar—he was not shy about taunting or hurting him.

Kit was the first to make a move, shooting a right handed jab directly at Jaime's face. It was blocked, which left him open to a knee in the gut. Jaime doubled over for a few moments, but Kit didn't leave him time to recover before throwing consecutive punches.

Jaime managed to raise his arms to block the majority of Kit's blows, and backed away to circle around him. Jaime pulled his shirt off over his head which was code for "I mean business." At least whenever they fought hand to hand. Kit had the perfect view of Dru and Thais and rolled his eyes as they blushed and giggled to each other.

Kit taunted him, "I thought I told you not to disappoint me. Come on! Don't be a pussy!"

"You really are in rare form today, Herondale."

His words were a distraction though, meant to keep Kit from paying attention to the fact that their circle kept getting smaller and smaller.

It didn't work this time. Kit ducked low and swiped out his leg, trying to catch Jaime off guard, however Jaime was expecting him to do just that. He hopped out of the way, spun around behind Kit and flipped him onto his back while he was off balance.

Kit struggled to drag air into his lungs as he glared up at Jaime through his lashes.

The other man held out his hand to help him up. It was a mistake for him, as Kit used the moment of defenselessness to pull Jaime to the floor, swiftly kneeling over him and gripping him around the throat.

"That was disappointing, Jaime."

Jaime sputtered beneath him, pounding the floor three times with his free hand, signaling he had surrendered. Kit leaped to his feet, feeling confident and victorious, and quickly found himself sprawled on the floor, legs kicked out from under him.

The breath was knocked from his lungs for the second time in minutes, as Jaime pinned him to the floor. It was Kit who surrendered this time.

When he finally caught his breath, he muttered, "that was a cheap shot."

Jaime reached out a hand to pull him to his feet, for real this time. "I never said I'd fight fair."

Kit clapped him on the shoulder, releasing a low chuckle. "That you did not."

"Feel better?"

"Not even a little bit."

Dru bounded across the room to them, long brunette braids bouncing over her shoulders, and pulled Kit away and over to the daggers. She silently handed him a set and motioned for him to follow for target practice.

When they were out of hearing range from Jaime and Thais, who had preoccupied themselves with cleaning blades, Dru asked, "Wanna talk about whatever it is that has you so on edge right now?"

Kit sighed, throwing a dagger and hitting his mark perfectly. "What do you think it is?"

"Ty?"

It was always Ty. Not that he would say that out loud.

"Alright, so what happened?" She took aim and threw her dagger, landing it flush with his own. His heart swelled with pride.

"To begin with, I can't seem to keep my idiotic mouth shut, but we're not gonna unpack all that at the moment."

"Good thinking, we would be here for days," she said, jokingly.

"Very funny," he rolled his eyes. "I'm going on mission with Dalton and Ty tonight." The knife he threw imbedded itself into the dummy's skull, right between the eyes.

"Oh." Her eyebrows rose so high he thought they might disappear into her hair. "I could come with, as a buffer, if you'd like."

He had already thought about that. It would have been a good idea, but Kit wanted to keep the vampire on his toes. That meant not having the three who apprehended him involved. "As much as I would love that...some things I just need to figure out on my own."

She smiled at him knowingly, "I'm here if you need someone to talk to when you get back."

"What would I do without you?"

"Suck at life, probably."

...

Ty, Kit and Dalton approached the statue that marked the entrance to the Silent City. It was raining, as it had been all day. The wetness set Ty on edge—the feeling of wet gear sticking to skin was uncomfortable and irritating. He would rather spend a rainy day inside with Shadow and a book.

He did his best to put the thoughts and sensations out of his mind. He had left his headphones back at the institute. He knew he could have worn them; knew that Kit would have understood. But he didn't know Dalton, and new people tended to misunderstand him. He reminded himself that it was irrational to assume—Dalton genuinely seemed like a nice guy, and he had been a mundane, meaning he didn't have the same preconceived notions that many Shadowhunters did. But old habits died hard.

Ty observed in silence as Kit pricked the palm of his hand with his dagger and squeezed it over the goblet in the angel statue's hand.

The entrance opened and they stepped through into the gloomy darkness. Despite the unsettling feeling of being in the Bone City, Ty was grateful for a reprieve from the steady rain. He rolled up his sleeve to draw a quick heating rune on his forearm, feeling the mild warmth spread through him.

Kit took out his witchlight, leading the way down into the endless chasms and tunnels. Ty wondered for a brief moment if it was the same witchlight he had given Kit.

There had been very minimal talking between the three of them. He didn't mind at all, but he vaguely wondered if Kit was uncomfortable. He had noticed the way Kit's shoulders and fists were tense on the entire walk; noticed the way Kit chose not to let Dalton place any runes on his skin before they left, noticed the way Kit kept a good distance between them.

Ty thought back to that morning. He knew Kit hadn't meant anything by the Sherlock comment; it had been a sarcastic response brought about by fear and nervousness. It was exactly the sort of thing Kit would say. Even if he found it ridiculous to be afraid of Shadow. It had struck a nerve, regardless. Because anything to do with Sherlock and Watson, and the past that Ty had been trying to reconcile, left a vivid feeling of emptiness so strong that it had taken the majority of the day to collect himself again.

He was pulled abruptly from his thoughts when he ran right into Dalton, who had come to a halt in front of him.

"Sorry," Ty mumbled, not meeting his warm hazel eyes.

"No worries," Dalton replied kindly.

Ty ran a hand through his stringy wet hair. He needed to focus. Maybe it had been a mistake leaving his headphones behind.

They entered the council chambers and found Brother Shadrach waiting for them stoically.

"Thank you for your time, Brother Shadrach"

Welcome to the Silent City. Follow me.

Ty shivered. He didn't think he'd ever get used to the intrusiveness of their voices in his head.

They followed him down levels and levels to the pits of the underground city, all the way to the holding cells. He'd never been this far down into the catacombs of the city. He knew there were endless levels and rooms full of all sorts of mysteries kept secret from the rest of the world. He was more than a little curious about what lay in their depths.

When they arrived at the cell containing the vampire, Ty watched curiously as the prisoner winced, coming forward finally to face his visitors. He had a sneer plastered across his pallid features, contempt apparent in his gaze as he sized them up.

Not that he could do much harm to them from his prison.

Kit stepped forward. "Damien Youngblood, is it?" He didn't wait for a response before plowing on. "Did you choose that name yourself or was it given to you? Either way, it's very unfortunate, like naming yourself Vampire McVampireson. Not very original. Or cool."

"Piss off, Nephilim."

"What he means," Dalton interjected, shooting Kit a withering look. "Is it would seem that we need to ask you some questions."

"And why would I help you?"

"Freedom. You help us, and we release you. It's as simple as that." Kit had returned to his serious, less sarcastic state of being.

The vampire laughed darkly, "Nothing is ever that simple with you Shadowhunters. But fine, I'll bite."

"Who ordered you to encanto those mundanes?"

Ty thought the vampire wasn't going to respond. He was silent for a few very long minutes, before finally saying, "I don't know her name. She didn't tell me, just offered me my fair share of the jewels as long as she got the ring."

"That's very convenient," Dalton mumbled.

"Do you know why she wanted that ring? Or why it is so important?" Ty asked.

"No clue," the figure shrugged. "I don't make a habit of asking too many questions."

"Wow," Kit breathed. "You sure make a habit out of being entirely useless though, don't you? I mean, first you failed to get the ring, then you were captured by Shadowhunters, now you can't even give us any actual answers. This has been a colossal waste of time."

Kit was definitely on edge.

But Ty had been watching the vampire closely.

He stepped forward, between Dalton and Kit, and forced himself to make eye contact. "I think you're lying."

The prisoner cocked his head to the side, "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?"

"When you said you didn't know why the ring is so important," he began. "You shrugged, slipped your hands behind your back and looked away—typical signs of deceit. You didn't do any of that when we asked why you encanto'd the mundanes. Ergo, you have something to hide." Ty slipped his own hand in his pocket to hide the flutter of his fingers, pleased with his deduction. "So, I'll ask you again. Do you know why you were supposed to retrieve that ring?"

"Fine, maybe I do know. But I'm not about to tell you."

"I thought you might say that."

Ty pulled his hand from his pocket in a swift motion, releasing a spray of silver powder right into the vampire's face. A stunned expression came over him before it contorted in pain. Then he passed out, falling backwards onto the stone cold ground.

Ty glanced at Kit and Dalton, who were both looking at him dumbfoundedly. He spoke quickly and quietly to the Silent Brother, "He'll only be out for ten minutes at the most, can you let me in the cell?"

Brother Shadrach nodded silently and moved forward to unlock the cell door, allowing Ty inside.

"What are you doing?" Kit hissed.

Ty ignored him, pulled out his dagger and cut a small incision into the vampire's forearm, holding it open with his index finger while he reached into an inside pocket of his jacket. He withdrew a small device, barely the size of his thumbnail, and slipped it into the opening. He watched with mild interest as the cut mended back together seamlessly, then wiped away the traces of blood with his sleeve.

"A tracking device," Dalton mused. "Clever."

"Yeah…" Kit echoed, and Ty was pleased to detect a hint of praise in his voice.

Ty felt a blush creep into his cheeks, forgetting for one small moment that they were not fifteen anymore, that things between them were nothing like what they had been. The satisfaction he had felt only seconds before was replaced with a cold anger. At himself, and at Kit.

He faced Brother Shadrach sharply and impatiently. "Give him a few days to reconsider, then release him. We'll take care of the rest."

He started back through the stairs and passageways, not caring whether or not the Silent Brother, Kit, and Dalton followed him.

...

Kit didn't know what had just occurred. One minute, he was witness to Ty's incredible intelligence and cleverness. He hadn't been able to keep the fondness and awe from his voice, just like old times. Neither had Dalton. The next moment, it was as if Ty became a different person, cold and indifferent. And uncharacteristically disrespectful toward the Silent Brother.

Kit mumbled a hasty apology and thank you to the Brother Shadrach before following Ty back up through the levels of the underground city and out into the steadily pouring rain. If the Silent Brother was offended, he hadn't said anything, and they parted with few words.

Ty was nowhere to be seen.

Dalton emerged behind him moments later. "What happened?" he asked.

Kit shook his head and gnawed on his bottom lip, "I honestly don't know. Everything was fine—ish."

"Fine...ish?"

"I talked to him, like you told me I should. I thought things were okay, but I seem to keep making a mess of things anyway," Kit said angrily, kicking at a rock on the ground.

Dalton reached for Kit's hand, tugging him gently into his arms. He almost resisted; he was too wound up, too anxious and agitated. "Whatever just happened back there, it is not your fault."

"I wish that were true." Even if he hadn't been responsible for the sudden change in Ty's attitude in the City of Bones, he was still plenty at fault for the rift between them. Ty didn't act out for no reason—usually as a result of emotional stress and over stimulation. At least, that's what it used to be. It struck him that he knew very little about Ty now.

"Kit…" Dalton held him tighter for a few long moments. "What aren't you telling me?"

Where do I begin? Kit had far too many secrets than he knew what to do with.

Kit withdrew from the embrace, feeling like a fraud. He didn't deserve Dalton's faith in him—and he definitely didn't deserve the way Dalton cared.

"Nothing," he muttered. "Can we just go back?"

Dalton's wet hair was plastered to his forehead, water dripping down his cheeks. His jaw clenched, just a fraction, and Kit knew Dalton was upset with him. "It's not nothing, Kit."

He didn't typically get annoyed or frustrated with Dalton, but his words struck a nerve. "You already know that! I told you that what happened between me and Ty is complicated and I can't tell you."

"Can't? Or won't?" Dalton snapped.

"It's both! I can't tell you everything, and I won't."

"Why?"

Kit's fists were clenched at his sides, and anger was building up inside him along with the thrum of magical energy that meant he needed to calm down. It was becoming more and more frequent, which was disconcerting, as it had been well over a year since he had struggled to control his emotions to the point that his magic flared so frequently.

"Because I'm ashamed!" he blurted. He didn't really mean to say it and was surprised he had admitted it out loud. It was like the dam on his emotions erupted with the words, and suddenly he was crying, tears mingling with the rain dripping down his cheeks. "What more do you want from me?"

"I want you to trust me!"

Kit blinked in surprise. "I do trust you, Dalton."

"Not with everything," he sighed. "Not with all of you...scars and shame and all."

Kit's heart wrenched at his defeated tone. He had been so focused on how he'd been feeling since Ty arrived; on how Ty had been feeling, he hadn't even stopped to consider how it was affecting Dalton.

"I'm sorry. Shit, I'm a fucking idiot." He began pacing back and forth, boots squelching in the muddy ground. "Why do you even bother with me? I'm a complete mess."

Dalton gripped Kit's shoulder in a swift motion, turning him around to face him. The rain still showed no signs of ceasing, and they were both soaked to the bone. The street lamp in the distance cast a slight glow, turning Dalton's skin a dark bronze.

He reached his hand up to cup Kit's cheek. "I bother because I'm in love with you."

Kit's heart felt like a weight dropping into his stomach. Dalton was in love with him? The confession threw him completely off guard. He had no clue how to respond. He didn't even know how he felt. "I—you are?"

Dalton nodded, leaning his forehead against Kit's. He felt the rain drip from the other man's hair and down the sides of his nose.

"I don't know what to say…" Kit admitted. "I told you I'm not very good at this." He gestured around him, referring to relationships and feelings. But it was more than that. Something was holding him back—or someone, rather. Despite his promise to himself that he would let go of his past with Ty, Ty's arrival threw all of that directly out the window. He could no longer just forget that he had once been on the confessing end of these feelings, and he had been well and thoroughly rejected.

But Dalton wasn't Ty.

"I know. I don't expect you to feel the same way right now. But promise me that you won't lead me on."

The request brought him back to another time; to another memory that Livvy's spirit had so harshly reminded him of only a few days ago. He wasn't very good at keeping promises.

"I have the tendency to break promises, Dalton. Don't make me promise you this."

"Then at least say you'll give us a real chance."

Kit considered his request for a long moment. He wanted to give Dalton everything he was asking for. But he wasn't sure he could. "I will do my best."

Dalton closed his eyes tightly, and Kit assumed for a second that it wasn't enough for Dalton; that he would end their relationship. But when he opened his eyes and gazed tenderly into Kit's, Kit knew he had been wrong

"Okay." Dalton placed a rain splattered kiss on Kit's brow, took his hand in his own and tugged him along. "Let's get out of this god forsaken rain."

...

When Ty emerged from the underground city, hands fluttering viciously at his sides and thoughts jumbled around messily in his head, he tucked himself away behind the angel statue, needing a moment to just breathe. He had tried not to be so affected by Kit, but being down there with him and Dalton felt like being trapped in a coffin, claustrophobic and compressing.

He had hoped to have more time, but only a few minutes later, he heard the shuffling of feet as Kit and Dalton came out after him. His plan had been to calm down and then wait for them outside, but now he had to choose between remaining where he was hiding or awkwardly announcing his presence.

He chose the former.

Which proved to be a tremendous mistake.

He assumed they would just head back to the institute, figuring that's where he had gone. But then they argued—about him. And Dalton confessed feelings that made Ty want to withdraw into himself and never resurface. He didn't entirely understand why. He had only ever wanted Kit to be happy, even if the cost was his own happiness. At least, that's what he had told himself every day at the Scholomance.

He did, however, understand the pang that went through his chest as he sat listening in on their private conversation. He knew he was intruding. Knew he should not be there, overhearing all of it.

But there he was, drenched and shivering and miserable.

He couldn't stop Dalton's confession from repeating in his mind, reminding him of that fateful night at Lake Lyn. He had completely avoided thinking about Kit telling him he loved him. Had convinced himself that Kit hadn't meant anything more than a philia or storge type of love by it, but the way Dalton had said it to Kit was much too similar to the desperate way Kit had said it to him.

His heart clenched painfully upon hearing Kit say he was ashamed. Ashamed of what? His feelings? His part in the ritual that never should have happened?But Kit had kept their secret; kept what they did to himself. He could have trusted Dalton with the information, probably, but he had chosen not to share the thing that Ty regretted more than anything in his life, because it had driven Kit out of his.

Yet, Kit was the one who was ashamed?

Ty struggled against the over stimulation and emotions-couldn't clear the cacophony like shattered glass in his head.

When they finally departed, he emerged and ran all the way back to the Institute, as if he could escape the tide of regret and guilt that was his own doing. He thought that maybe it would clear his mind. But he was becoming less and less able to self soothe.

He burst through the front door, bolted up the stairs and into his room without a word to Dru, who had taken one glance at him and attempted to ask what was wrong.

He stripped off his sopping wet Centurion uniform, placing the pin on his bedside table, removed his extra Shadowhunter gear and stepped into the bathroom, starting a hot shower. He took a look at himself in the mirror and regretted it. He had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. And his skin, already pale, looked almost ghostly against his tangled black hair.

He took a very long shower, letting the warmth seep into his bones, leaving his skin flushed with heat. It soothed his nerves, somewhat. When he emerged he only had the energy to put on a pair of boxers before collapsing onto his mattress.

He reached for his headphones and was about to put them over his ears when a knock sounded at his door. He thought about not opening it, but found himself slipping off the bed, sliding on a pair of sweatpants and his sweatshirt and opening the door.

He had expected Dru, but it was Kit who stood in the hall, still dressed in his soaked gear. His golden hair stuck to his forehead and neck, droplets sliding down and disappearing under his collar. He avoided Kit's vibrant blue eyes, focusing his gaze on a tiny freckle on Kit's right earlobe.

"Are you alright?" Kit asked suddenly. "You left so abruptly back there...I wanted to check in on you before you went to bed."

Maybe it was because he was exhausted, or maybe he just couldn't regulate his emotions anymore after the day he had. Either way, Kit's sudden concern for his well-being struck his already short nerves and he didn't bother trying to stop himself from saying, "I don't need you to check on me like I'm some sort of unstable child." He knew deep down that the words weren't true; knew he was projecting his own insecurities onto Kit, but he didn't care. "I don't need babysitting."

"That's not—I didn't mean anything by it, Ty. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be? I've been fine for the last three years. Why do you care now?" It definitely wasn't fair of him to say that. But he was so, so angry and confused and hurt. "Sherlock learned to do things without Watson."

The words hit their mark, and Kit took a step away from Ty, stricken by the words he'd thrown back in Kit's face. He blinked, and Ty thought he saw the telltale glistening of tears along his lower lashes. Kit could no longer look at him, his eyes were downcast and his hand reached behind him, fumbling for the door knob to his own room.

"I never stopped caring," he said softly.

"I don't believe you. If you really cared, you would have stayed."

"I know. I'm—"

But Ty didn't wait to hear what Kit was going to say before slamming his own door in Kit's face and sinking to the floor on the opposite side, face in his trembling hands.

...

Oooof. My heart. Also, I am really getting into writing from Ty's POV.