A few notes…

Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out, this and the next are incredibly long and a little more plot heavy.

Also, you will notice that Kit's heron necklace comes into play. And since I didn't know about it when I started this story, it will be utilized in a different way from GotSM.

AND, you will finally get a little bit more of Dalton's backstory!

ENJOY!

Kit sat at his desk in the study, finally preparing a daily rotation schedule, alternating who patrolled with who which nights of the week. He gave everyone different nights of the week off and gave them all Sunday nights off. He was pretty proud of it, actually. It felt good to develop of routine patrolling schedule. More than that, it felt good to take charge.

When he was done, he called Jaime into the office, tasking him with typing up the schedule and printing a copy for everyone.

"Who do you think I am?" he complained. "The fucking maid?"

Kit cast him a glare, "No, radix lecti, you just look like you need something to do."

"Oh, so now I'm a couch potato?"

"Better than a stupid cow right?"

"Barely. And why don't you have Dru or Thais do it?"

"Are you disobeying an order, Jaime?" Kit looked at him pointedly, as if challenging him to defy him one more time.

"Ugh, fine!" He snagged the paper from Kit's desk unceremoniously. "You suck, by the way."

Kit shrugged with a smirk, "You're not wrong."

"Touché, I bet you're pretty good at it, too," Jaime winked with a laugh, all pretense at being angry gone.

"Good at what?" Ty appeared in the doorway and Kit thought about crawling underneath the desk.

"Oh, you know," Jaime wiggled an eyebrow. "Things."

Ty stared at him blankly. "Never mind, I'm not sure I want to know, anyway."

"Your loss," Jaime said, heading out of the room, muttering to Ty as he went. "Maybe you can talk some sense into him. He keeps insisting on insulting me in Latin."

Kit collected himself, but found he was unable to look directly at Ty, choosing instead to study his pen in great detail. "What's up, Ty?"

Ty held up his phone, gesturing to a map with a blinking blue dot in the center. "Our vampire is on the move."

"Any idea where he's headed?"

"Not yet. Looks like he stopped at a Downworld bar first. I'm sure he was feeling a little depleted after his time down in the holding cells."

"Perfect. That gives us time to get ready. It just so happens that you and I have patrol duty tonight, and we're gonna tail him."

Ty's answering smile was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Kit rose from his seat and met Ty at the door. The other boy's gray eyes glittered with amusement. "Latin?" he said with a raised eyebrow. "I very clearly recall you wanting nothing to do with the dead language."

Kit smirked, "I may or may not have learned every swear word in Latin, just to use them on Jaime."

"I wish I could say I'm surprised, but I'm actually not. That sounds exactly like something you would do."

"Some things never change."

Ty was thoughtful for some time, and Kit started to think their conversation was over. "You have. Three years ago, you scoffed at the idea of being a Shadowhunter, and now you are the head of the London Institute. I'd say you've changed quite a bit, and it suits you."

Kit felt a small blush creep into his cheeks at the compliment. "I'm not the only one who's changed," Kit responded, glancing sideways at Ty. But he had to admit, Ty was right. He wondered what Ty would think of his faerie lineage if he knew. Kit was well aware that he couldn't keep that secret forever, that his fey lineage was going to have ramifications he wasn't even aware of yet.

Ty's reply pulled him out of his thoughts. "I haven't changed as much as you think."

…

Dalton was cleaning weapons when Kit and Ty entered the weapons room, dressed in their patrol gear and Centurion uniform, respectively. Jaime had already given him his own typed up copy of the patrol schedule.

He told himself that he wasn't upset or jealous, even, that Kit was patrolling with Ty tonight. He knew it was just a rotation schedule; everyone was paired with each other on different nights, except Dru and Thais who were paired together more often due to becoming parabatai. It shouldn't have been a big deal.

Still, it bothered him.

Kit had told him that they had finally talked about whatever went down between them. He was glad, because it meant Kit was no longer torturing himself over something he said out of anger three years ago. But he was still withholding details from Dalton, and it left him with an uncomfortable feeling of uncertainty.

Kit came up to him then, swiping a few daggers from the table and tucking them into his belt. Dalton noticed Kit's intricate niuweidao already secured at his hip. Kit didn't leave on patrol or mission without it.

Dalton was aware of Kit glancing at him from the corner of his eyes. "Are you alright, Dalton? You're scrubbing those blades awfully hard…"

He looked down at his hands. Kit was right. He set down the weapons and willed himself to get a grip. "I'm fine."

Kit reached for his hand. "Okay…I'm definitely not an expert, but it seems like something's wrong."

Dalton sighed, "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just not in a great mood at the moment. There's a lot on my mind." That wasn't the entire truth, but it was enough to satisfy Kit at the moment.

Kit leaned into him then, kissing him gently on the cheek and whispering in his ear, "I'll come to your room when I get back, if you want."

Dalton smiled in spite of his bad mood. "You know I can't say no to you." He reached up and tugged gently on Kit's beautiful blonde waves. "Where are you patrolling tonight?"

Kit pulled back slightly, "Actually, we are tracking the vampire. We'll see where that takes us, I guess."

"Ah." That turned out to be even more frustrating; he had wanted to be part of the ongoing investigations. He didn't say it out loud though; didn't want to sound as jealous as he actually was.

Kit gave him a slightly questioning look, before he started to turn away. Dalton snagged him around the waist and wrapped a hand under Kit's jaw, pulling him in for a kiss, slipping his tongue into his mouth greedily. Kit melted into him and for a moment Dalton forgot everything else but losing himself in Kit's warmth.

Dalton broke away briefly to say, "Just be careful." Over the top of Kit's head, Dalton caught Ty's gaze and watched curiously as Ty quickly glanced away from the two of them.

"Always am," Kit smirked back at him. "I'll see you later, 'kay?"

Dalton moved to work on sharpening a rack of swords and sabers, and used his spot across the room to observe Kit and Ty surreptitiously for a few long moments.

Something Kit said made Ty smile, and once again, Dalton wondered if their relationship had been more than a friendship. It was the only thing he could think of that Kit wouldn't want to tell him about. Especially now that Dalton had confessed his own feelings. Truthfully, he had known he was in love with Kit for a few weeks now; long before they had made their relationship official. He wasn't mad that Kit didn't feel that way yet, but he couldn't help wondering if Ty being in London was the reason for his uncertainty.

He had noticed that Ty never really made eye contact with anyone, seeming to prefer indirect glances. But he was looking directly at Kit now, enthralled by whatever it was Kit was telling him.

Whatever their past with each other was—really was, since Kit continued to evade the entire truth—it was very clear their relationship was different.

Dalton was so busy watching them that he forgot to be careful. The whetstone slipped from his grip and the blade sliced across his palm. He swore, clutching at his hand as the blood dripped onto the table in a crimson pool, suddenly feeling very foolish. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his stele, drawing a quick healing rune. He grabbed a cloth from the nearest shelf, cleaning up his mess hastily.

When he looked up again, Kit and Ty were still deep in their own conversation and hadn't noticed Dalton's frantic scrambling.

Leaving the blades unfinished, he threw the bloody cloth down and left the room, feeling the sting of the wound throbbing in time to the barrage of insecure thoughts in his mind.

…

Ty was not one to stare.

Ever.

But he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the passionate display—as brief as it was—between Kit and Dalton.

He had never kissed someone the way Dalton was kissing Kit. The thought filled him with a strange combination of shame and excitement. Even though he was eighteen, the idea of being physically intimate with someone was so overwhelming that he had simply avoided it. Besides, there hadn't been anyone at the Scholomance that he was even remotely interested in, in that way. It was partially his own doing; he hadn't gone out of his way to meet his classmates or make friends in the first place.

Then Dalton caught him watching and he turned away with an embarrassed flush to his cheeks. But that didn't stop the thoughts from taking shape in his mind about what it would be like to run his fingers through that golden hair that he'd always found so fascinating. To cling to Kit again, as if he were the anchor in his sea of chaos.

He put a stop to those thoughts then, forcing himself to focus on what he was supposed to be doing: loading up with weapons. Even though he preferred not to fight, he never went on patrol or mission without being completely prepared.

Minutes later, Kit rejoined him and set to work checking over his blades and gear. For the first time, Ty noticed the red hilt of the curved blade at his side.

"You have a niuweidao? You are full of surprises."

"Jem gave it to me on my first birthday in Devon. It once belonged to his mother, quite a long time ago. Imagine my surprise when he told me he wanted me to have it."

Ty smiled at the thought—and at the way Kit gazed down at the weapon fondly. It wasn't that surprising, in fact. Ty had observed Kit with Jem and Tessa over the last week and a half and it was very obvious a strong bond had formed; that they had become a family, complete with the giggling toddler who had befriended Shadow.

"Living with them, in Devon…" Ty began. "It was good for you. You seem…more sure of yourself now. Like you know what you want." Ty was still only starting to figure out what he wanted, but he wasn't even sure that what he wanted mattered. There was still a price to pay for upsetting the balance of life and death.

"Ah. You may be clever, Ty, but I am no closer to knowing what I want out of life than I was three years ago. I'm just much better at making people think I am."

Ty couldn't hold back a laugh, "Whatever you say, Kit." But he realized there was definitely some truth behind Kit's words—sensed it, somehow. He was aware that he knew very little about how Kit had or had not changed, besides the obvious differences. He had once thought he knew every small detail about Kit, but there was still so much to uncover; he had barely grazed the surface back then, and could hardly claim to know him now.

He wanted to ask Kit questions—to understand him better, but found himself at a complete loss for words. He opted for silence instead, focusing on applying soundless, night vision and strength runes.

He turned to Kit, gesturing at him with his stele.

Kit appeared to hesitate, before shaking his head. His soft curls fell into his face and Ty fought the urge to push them out of his eyes.

He pulled his phone out and checked the GPS tracking on their target. He was still at the Downworld Bar.

"We should—"Ty started, but Kit wasn't paying attention. He was looking back to where Dalton had been, only moments before. Without thinking, he reached out and placed a hand on Kit's arm. "Is everything alright?"

Kit's focus returned, but a worried look still marked his features. He glanced at Ty's hand on his arm, and then lifted his piercing blue gaze to Ty's. "I don't know."

Ty removed his hand and looked away quickly. "We should get going."

….

Ty checked his phone frequently on their way to the bar, keeping tabs on the vampire's location, but he needn't have worried. The vampire seemed very content to remain exactly where he was.

Kit drove, and they parked a block away. He killed the engine and turned to Ty, "Do we do a stake out or go in?"

Ty weighed the options. "Even with the alliance, there's a high probability that we are not welcome here. We have no idea who's in there; who may have a bone to pick with Shadowhunters.

Ty watched out of the corner of his eye as the wheels turned in Kit's mind and a smirk formed on his lips. "So what you're saying is...it'll be dangerous."

"Obviously."

"And risky."

"Definitely."

"Alright, alright. You don't have to tell me twice. We're going in."

Ty shook his head in amusement. "You're incorrigible."

"I know," he flashed a brilliant and mischievous grin that made Ty's stomach flutter.

"We probably should have dressed more mundane."

Kit nodded, "I'd thought about that. But they're gonna know who we are the moment we walk in there, regardless of what we're wearing. So we might as well just skip the charades and be who we are."

Kit had a point. Ty felt anxious though and clenched his fists tightly in his lap to keep them from shaking. He hated bars.

Kit hesitated then with his hand on the door. "If you don't want to go in, we don't have to. I know you don't like loud and crowded places."

"You're right. But I'm not going to let you go in by yourself, either. I have my headphones, just in case."

"Okay," Kit breathed. "If it's too much, tell me and we will leave immediately."

"Kit. I appreciate that, but I've learned ways to manage the sensory overload. I will be fine, I promise."

Kit seemed to relax, and got out of the car. Ty took a deep, grounding breath and followed, mentally trying to prepare himself for what was to come.

They were stopped at the door by the bouncer; a large, burly man—a werewolf to be exact.

"Shadowhunters," he scoffed. "What business do you have at The Infernal Haunt?

"Can't two Shadowhunters enjoy a cold bevvy?"

"Dressed like you either own the place or you're ready to murder people? I think not."

"How rude. We happened to be out on patrol, checking out a report on an Eidolon demon in the area. Fortunately, for everyone involved, it seems to have been a false report. Nasty buggers, they are. Now can we come in for a drink?"

Ty was caught off guard by the ease with which Kit lied and the way his adopted British accent seeped into his speech, especially when he spoke quickly. The bouncer eyed them suspiciously, but after a few moments determined them to be a non-threat, and gestured for them to enter. He lifted his fingers to his eyes and pointed at the two of them, indicating that he would be watching.

Ty didn't doubt the werewolf for one second.

He followed Kit to a high top table with a good vantage point and a close proximity to the back exit. The music and general loudness set Ty on edge; the bright lights making his brain feel scattered like the reflections from the disco ball. Around them, smoke drifted through the air, simultaneously bitter and sweet like burnt sugar and ashes.

The combination of it all was mildly nauseating. Ty sat across the table from Kit, immediately pulling out his headphones. He didn't put them in his ears, just around his neck so he could fiddle with the cord, coiling and uncoiling it between his fingers. The repetitive motion kept him grounded, and he was able to glance around the room in observation, quickly locating their vampire facing away from them at the bar with a tall glass of crimson liquid in front of him.

Ty met Kit's gaze and nodded in the direction of the Downworlder.

A young Unseelie woman approached their table, giving them a laminated drink menu and listing off the specials. Her delicate, pointed ears poked out from her silvery-white hair, and she smiled briefly at Kit, but her attention focused on Ty for longer than he found comfortable. She smiled at him warmly, and offered a special drink that she had not offered to Kit. He was vaguely aware that she was flirting with him, and had very little notion of what to do or say in response. Nor was he interested in her.

Kit spared him the embarrassment by ordering two drinks, and she turned away with a small frown. Kit's blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Don't say a word," Ty cautioned, tugging at his sleeve. His fingers were fluttering; an autonomous response to the sensory overload. Everything about the place made his head swim chaotically, and his eyes darted around the room. There was simply too much to process.

"Ty, breathe." Kit's voice was soothing, like a soft blanket. "What do you need?"

"Just...talk to me. About anything—the case, or you. It doesn't matter."

"Not the case," Kit responded in a whisper. "Anyone here could be listening in."

For all the bouncer's rudeness at the door, things were going far more smoothly than he'd anticipated. There were some strange and suspicious glances from a few inhabitants, but most had simply ignored them, preferring not to stir up trouble. The waitress returned with their drinks, winked at Ty and walked away, entirely nonplussed by his awkwardness.

"What did you order us to drink?" he asked, mostly out of curiosity, but also with some uncertainty, thinking about the other night when Kit returned to the institute drunk.

"It's just vodka cranberry. Kind of a girly drink, but I like them. This is what I drink when I'm having a good time. Not...like the other night."

"And what did you have the other night?"

"Whiskey." He said it like it was obvious that it mattered.

"I wouldn't know the difference. I've never drank alcohol before." He wasn't certain he ever wanted to. He was wary of alcohol—it made people impulsive. Still, he found himself intrigued.

"You don't have to drink it."

Ty slid the drink across the table, and then returned to keeping an eye on Youngblood, still sitting at the bar. "Has Livvy visited you?"

Surprise danced across Kit's face, and he took another drink. "Oh, that's not what I was expecting you to ask…but yes, once, since you arrived. She came to my room and yelled at me." Ty frowned. "I deserved it, though, for being an ass. Has anything, you know, changed? Have there been any negative, umm, side effects?"

Ty hesitated. He had kept meticulous notes on everything—from how far away they could be from each other before they felt the painful tug on their connection, to the increasingly frequent moments in which Livvy's spirit appeared to become more lucid. But he wasn't one hundred percent sure what was happening or what it all meant.

"You don't have to tell me. Sensitive subject and all…"

"No, it's ok. I'm just not sure where to begin. You can read all my notes some time."

Kit smiled at him then and Ty had to look away. The vampire had finally moved and was speaking with a hooded figure in the corner.

"Kit, look. Do you think that could be her? The mysterious hooded woman that he told us about?"

Kit observed for a few moments, sipping nonchalantly at his drink. "I don't know. Superhuman hearing would come in handy right about now."

Damien Youngblood turned around then, locking eyes with Ty, glaring with complete, unadulterated hatred. It occurred to Ty that maybe showering the vampire with silver powder hadn't earned him any appreciation. Oh well. It was the means to an end, and he would do it again if it meant solving this case.

The other hooded figure disappeared in the span of a few seconds, so swiftly and slyly that Ty almost missed it. Then the vampire downed the remainder of the drink in his hand and left through the back exit into the alley.

Ty and Kit were off their stools and halfway across the space to the door in mere moments. But Ty was stopped by the waitress, who had apparently decided not to give up her flirting.

"Leaving so soon, sweetie? You just arrived," she cooed to him, sidling up uncomfortably close and grazing a hand down his arm. It felt like pins and needles under his skin, painful and entirely unwanted. He began to back away, but she followed. "Oh, come now, don't play so hard to get." He froze, feeling very much trapped.

Kit had been a few steps ahead of him, but he turned now and, seeing Ty, rushed back to his side. Ignoring the faerie, Kit leaned into Ty very slowly, giving him space to adjust.

"Hey, excuse me, but I was talking to your friend," the woman interrupted.

Kit held up a hand to silence her, before whispering softly into Ty's ear, "Do you trust me?" Ty nodded, and Kit continued. "I'm going to touch you, now."

Kit took his hand gently, and brought it to his lips. Ty stood rooted to the spot, unable to fully process exactly what was happening. Kit kissed the back of his hand, looking directly at the faerie woman.

"I see that you were talking to my boyfriend. And we are leaving now. So if you would remove your hand, before I remove it for you, that would be great."

The woman gave a reproachful look, but complied and lifted her hand. "My apologies," she mumbled, before turning on her heel and briskly walking away to another table.

Kit tugged Ty along, keeping a firm grip on his hand. Ty's brain was still catching up, stuck on the way Kit's lips had felt warm and pleasant against the back of his hand, entirely contrasting with the pins and needles feeling the girls' touch had provoked. He knew it was a charade, yet it left him feeling...strange.

Then they were in the alley and Kit released his hand, leaning against the brick wall. "I'm sorry, Ty."

Ty's head shot up, "What on earth are you sorry for?"

"For touching you. I didn't know what else to do. You looked so panicked and uncomfortable. I hope I didn't make it worse."

"You gave me full warning. You have nothing to worry about."

Kit seemed to accept that, so Ty took out his phone to check Youngblood's location, trying to put Kit's touch out of his mind. He held out the phone toward Kit, mouthing the words, "He's still here."

Everything that happened after that was a blur of commotion. Kit pushed himself off the wall, hand gripping the hilt of his saber as Ty found himself trapped against a strong force behind him with a dagger to his throat, it's cold edge digging painfully into his skin.

"One more step and I'll slit pretty boy's throat."

"Now that would be pretty stupid, even for you," Kit quipped.

"Why are you following me?"

"Who was the hooded person you were talking to?"

"You can't answer a question with another question!"

Across the alley, Ty made eye contact with Kit, trying to communicate that he just needed to keep the vampire talking. Keep him distracted.

Whether or not Kit actually knew what Ty wanted him to do, the talking came naturally.

"You are literally the worst vampire in the history of vampires. Threatening to kill someone with a dagger...what, did you forget you have fangs?"

So did antagonizing, apparently.

"You tell me why you two are following me and how you knew where to find me and I'll let him go."

"Lucky guess. Patrolling the area, wanted a drink, and what do you know? We got the added bonus of finding you, talking to a shady looking individual in a hooded robe."

The vampire turned to Ty then, "I think your friend is lying." Ty felt the dagger cut into his skin, and suddenly Kit was flying towards them. He caught the vampire around the neck, startling him into dropping the weapon. Ty moved away, drawing his karambits from his belt and looping his index fingers through the handles. They were defensive daggers, but they were his favorite.

Within moments, various hooded individuals surrounded them.

"Release the vampire, Kit Rook. Or should I say, Herondale?"

Ty recognized the female voice, but couldn't place it. Kit stirred, backing away from Youngblood, looking furious.

"Hypatia Vex. To what do I owe the displeasure?"

She finally removed her hood, and so did the other figures. Vampires, warlocks, and faeries—both Seelie and Unseelie—all glared at the two of them.

"You have something that I want."

"Bold of you to presume I know what it is or that I would even hand it over."

"You want the ring," Ty stated, hoping that Kit would follow his lead.

"I see things haven't changed. He's still the intelligent one," Hypatia crooned at Kit. "Yes, the ring. It belongs to me."

"You've sure gone through a lot of trouble to get it. But we can't help you with that. We gave it to the Silent Brothers for safe keeping."

"Hmmm. I think not. You forget that I've known you almost your entire life, Kit. I know when you are lying, just like I knew when Johnny was lying. I also know that there's no way you wouldn't hold on to such a mysterious item."

"What would you give us if we hand it over to you?" Ty asked. He saw Kit shoot him a questioning look.

"What makes you think that I would give you anything? It belongs to me, and I want it back."

"Well, you seem desperate. And desperate people tend to do anything for what they want." He may have been internalizing a bit, but he knew desperation when he saw it. "So I'll ask again, what will you give us if we hand over the ring to you?"

Hypatia sighed, "I suppose I could be convinced to give you answers."

"You're going to have to be much more specific than that," Kit snapped.

"No, I'm not. You have twenty-four hours to hand it over. You know how to find me." She cast a knowing glance toward the vampire, who had no idea what she was referring to. Ty wasn't even sure how she knew about the tracking device.

She snapped her fingers and disappeared. The other warlocks followed suit, the vampires sped away, and the faeries headed back into the bar. The only one remaining was Damien, still glaring at Ty.

"I suggest you get a move on, or you'll find your eyes gouged out and propped on sticks like cake pops."

"I have unfinished business with you," he directed at Ty, ignoring Kit's threat.

"Look," Ty began. "Knocking you out, that wasn't personal."

"Well, then I'm sure you won't take this personally, either."

In the span of two seconds, the vampire was on him, fangs buried deep in his neck, sucking greedily and violently. It only took a moment for Ty to collect himself and slash his daggers across the vampire's stomach. He knew it wouldn't kill him, but the vampire staggered backward, swiping his chin with the back of his hand, licking the dribble of blood that came away. Ty clutched at his bleeding neck, finally registering the throbbing pain.

Youngblood's face looked euphoric, despite the wound knitting itself shut across his stomach. "You taste heavenly."

"Get. Away. From him," Kit's voice sounded from behind the Downworlder, lethal and savage. Ty didn't think he had ever heard Kit sound so furious.

The vampire smirked. "I see I have struck a nerve." But when he turned around, Ty's gasp echoed the vampire's, and Ty couldn't help but stare in shock. Youngblood put his hands up in front of him and backed away, "Woah. Okay, okay. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Damn right it won't, you lying sack of shit. You're lucky I'm not going to kill you right here and now."

He sped off into the distance then, not willing to take the chance that Kit would change his mind.

Looking at Kit now, Ty wasn't sure that he wasn't about to go after the vampire regardless, but that wasn't what caught his attention. Kit's saber was in his hand, swirls of magic twining around the blade, glowing an eerie silvery blue color and casting dancing shadows across Kit's features, illuminating his hair to a silvery gold, like pyrite.

"Kit—your sword."

The glow faded as the fury left Kit's face and he sighed, exhaustion seeming to take its place. He looked up at Ty then, seeing the blood dripping down his neck. He rushed over to him, sliding his saber back into its sheath. "Ty, are you okay?"

Ty could hear the panic in his voice; needed Kit to know that he was all right. "I'm fine. I just need an iratze."

Kit dug around in his jacket for the stele and ever so gently tipped Ty's head to the side, holding his neck steady and secure with one hand while he placed the adamas tip against his skin, right next to the wound. Kit was so close to him, Ty could feel his heavy exhales on his skin; he smelled of leather and spice—like cloves and cinnamon. If he glanced down, he would see the tiny freckle on Kit's earlobe. Instead, he closed his eyes, focusing on the prickling sensation of the healing rune as it worked its magic on the injury.

"Kit," Ty whispered, coming back to his senses. "How did you do that? With the sword…" he clarified.

"There's something I need to tell you," said Kit.

….

Kit and Ty walked back to the institute car in silence. Kit wasn't worried about telling Ty the truth, but he wasn't about to take the risk of some Downworlders listening in on the conversation, either.

Kit drove all the way to Blackfriars Bridge, before Ty finally asked, "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet."

He didn't want to go back to the Institute either, so he'd decided on a place he had discovered on a late night walk during the first few weeks living at the Institute. He parked on Duchy Street, and Ty followed as Kit led him through the Bernie Spain Gardens until they emerged in front of a pier overlooking the Thames.

"This is Gabriel's Pier." Kit loved it for the striking view of the London Skyline; the way the lights illuminated the low hanging clouds. Sometimes, on a clear night, it reminded him of Los Angeles.

What was typically a bustling place during the day, due to the beaches and the shopping area on the wharf, was entirely dead this time of night. Kit sometimes came here when he needed to clear his head or get away from the institute for a while; whenever he needed to feel a little more mundane.

Kit led Ty to the end of the pier and they stood side by side, leaning against the rail. Kit observed as Ty took in all the sights and sounds surrounding them. He looked calm and relaxed now, a stark contrast to his panic and discomfort at the bar.

Kit felt guilty—for taking Ty there in the first place, and for putting him in danger in the alley. But more than that, he felt guilty for touching Ty the way he had. Even though it was just a charade to save Ty from the Unseelie's advances, and even though he was dating Dalton, the fact that Ty had let him—had trusted him to get him out of that situation—

He shut down the thoughts then. It meant nothing. Whatever Kit's lingering feelings were for Ty, it didn't matter because Ty would never feel that way about him. It wasn't fair to Dalton for him to even entertain the thoughts that kept popping into his head. Dalton loved him. And Kit was being an idiot.

Looking out over the reflections cast across the surface of the river, Kit exhaled slowly. "What you saw back there in the alley...turns out I'm not only the lost Herondale, but I'm also the only known descendent of the First Heir."

"The First Heir," Ty repeated slowly, and Kit watched out of the corner of his eye as Ty processed it. "How?"

So Kit explained everything, just as he had with Dru a few days earlier. As he did, he absentmindedly tugged on the slender chain hanging around his neck; the silver heron necklace that belonged to his mother, Rosemary. There was a part of him that would always wonder what his life would have been like if the Riders of Mannan hadn't killed her. He wondered if, somehow, his path still would have crossed with the Blackthorns, or Jem and Tessa. His chest constricted painfully at the thought of not knowing them. It was hard to imagine his life without them now.

After a while, Kit had trailed off, leaving Ty to absorb the information; how and who he was descended from, how his magic had manifested in the first place, what he could—or couldn't—do with his powers now. Even his suspicions that the amulet had something to do with his lineage.

He knew it was a lot to take in—it had taken him the better part of his time in Devon to come to terms with it himself.

"Well…" Ty said thoughtfully. Kit glanced at him, noticing the way his dark hair, black as night in the shadows, moved gently in the breeze. "I guess that explains more about why you left. Jem and Tessa were protecting you."

"Yes, well, it seems I've made a mess of that. Who knows how many Downworlders know now that I've threatened that idiot Youngblood. There's no way Hypatia Vex doesn't know already."

"Unless he's more afraid of her than he is of us. Speaking of which, what do we do about Hypatia?"

Kit dragged a hand through his hair, "I'm gonna call Magnus in the morning. He was going to look into that amulet anyway and I haven't heard anything from him since before you arrived."

"I think you need to be more careful, moving forward." Ty fidgeted with the cuffs of his jacket, as if uncertain about voicing his opinion.

"It was you who told me that Shadowhunters don't run. I'm not running away from this, Ty."

"That's not what I'm saying." Ty turned to face him then, still leaning against the rails. He looked him in the eyes then with an intensity that made Kit feel weak at the knees and simultaneously want to look away. It was already disconcerting enough for Ty to make eye contact with him.

"What then?"

"You have a target on your back. This—your claim to both courts of Faerie, it's dangerous. Don't be reckless. We need to think things through."

The corner of Kit's mouth turned up in a small smile.

"What did I say?" Ty asked curiously.

"You said 'we'," Kit smiled, feeling a blush creep into his cheeks. He turned away, unable to keep his eyes on Ty any longer. No matter how much he tried to push away the thoughts, Kit couldn't stop thinking that Ty looked so beautiful in the pale glow from the city lights. He wasn't sure he would ever think anyone was as beautiful as Ty.

He noticed Ty smile in response before looking back out over the water. "I just want you to be careful, Kit."

….

It was late when they returned to the institute, but Kit went to Dalton's room anyway, just as he said he would. He knocked lightly on the door, half expecting Dalton to be fast asleep, but the door opened a few moments later, revealing a very tousled looking Dalton.

"You could have just come in," Dalton said with a yawn.

"I didn't want to disturb you, if you were already asleep."

"I was up...couldn't sleep," he mumbled.

Kit entered the room, shucking off his uniform and boots and plopping onto the mattress. "Is everything alright?"

Dalton ignored the question. "How was your patrol with Ty?"

Was it just Kit, or did Dalton sound...jealous?

"Oh, just peachy." Kit filled him in on the events of the night, leaving out a few key details. Dalton was concerned when Kit told him the vampire had injured Ty. "But on the plus side, we discovered who wants the ring."

Dalton's eyebrows lifted in curiosity, "And?"

"An unpleasant warlock from my past. She claims that it belongs to her. But I think she's full of shit." Kit looked up at Dalton from the bed. "Are you gonna come here or stand there all night?"

Dalton chuckled and crawled in beside Kit, remaining seated against the headboard. "Sorry, a lot on my mind."

"Yeah…you said that earlier. What's wrong? And where did you disappear to so suddenly when we were in the weapons room?"

"Oh, that? I accidentally cut myself sharpening a sword."

Kit poked him in the side playfully, "You should be more careful."

"You shouldn't distract me with your good looks."

Kit laughed in response, "Sorry, I guess I'll have to have Magnus cast an ugly enchantment on me then."

Dalton rolled his eyes. "It's not just your looks I'm attracted to, Kit. It's everything about you. Your confidence, your sense of humor. The way you care so deeply about everyone in your life. I love it all."

"Even my secrets?"

"Even your secrets."

"So what was bothering you so much earlier?"

Dalton pursed his lips for a moment. "It's stupid."

"I understand stupid."

Dalton laughed merrily and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "I guess I was jealous."

Ah, so Kit was correct, after all.

"I wanted to go with tonight."

That would have been a disaster, Kit thought, remembering the way he had kissed the back of Ty's hand. He should not have done that. Guilt settled in his stomach and his heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest. Not to mention that he would have had to explain his faerie powers yet again, though if he'd been honest in the first place, maybe he wouldn't feel so bad about keeping it from him.

"You could have said so."

"No, it's fine. It's not something I should even be jealous about. Ty is your friend and I'm—"

"My boyfriend."

Dalton's smile widened. "I was worried I had freaked you out by dropping the 'L' word," he said shyly and apologetically. "It was sudden and I didn't mean to spring it on you like that."

"It was sudden, but no, it didn't freak me out. Things are just…complicated lately." That was the understatement of the century. But somehow, when he was with Dalton, everything seemed less complicated and less chaotic, and that was something Kit very much liked about being with him. It was simple and fun, and he didn't have to worry about faeries or magic or Ty or mysterious rings and amulets.

Deep down though, Kit knew that it couldn't last. Eventually, all those things that he didn't have to think about with Dalton would catch up to them, and it would no longer be simple. Kit would have to decide what he wanted.

But tonight was not the night for that kind of decision making.

"Well…" Dalton gazed at him through his long lashes, hazel eyes glimmering in the faint light coming in through the window, illuminating the flecks of gold around his irises. "I can think of a few totally non-complicated things we could do," he winked.

Kit hummed in agreement, not even the least bit sleepy. He pulled Dalton down on top of him, and wrapped his legs around his waist. Dalton propped himself over Kit by his elbows and leaned down slowly, taking his time and making Kit impatient. Kit closed the gap between them, lips meeting and tongues brushing against each other in slow, languid movements.

Their kisses were normally hot and eager, but this one wasn't. It was as if Dalton were trying to memorize the feel of him. The curve of his lips, the flick of his tongue in Dalton's mouth, the way their bodies pressed together greedily. It was a loving action, Kit realized with a jolt.

All of Kit's initial fears about being in this relationship with Dalton came tumbling back to the forefront of his mind. There was no way he wasn't going to fuck this up at some point.

But those thoughts didn't stop him from running his fingers through Dalton's hair, tugging at the tender strands at the nape of his neck and trailing his fingernails down Dalton's spine. The other boy shuddered against him and traced hungry kisses down his neck and collarbone, sucking and biting gently while grinding his hips into Kit's.

Kit's breathing became ragged with need and longing and he pushed Dalton's boxers down before flipping him onto his back, taking control of the moment. Dalton tugged at Kit's underwear and he shuffled them off and onto the floor hastily. Kit kissed a trail from Dalton's hipbone, across his stomach and chest, and sucked gently at his neck, hands roaming and caressing. He pulled away and reached into the bedside table for the lubricant, coating his fingers and seated himself between Dalton's legs, spreading them wide.

He watched as Dalton's face contorted in pleasure as Kit slid a finger into him, working him open slowly—in, out, in—before adding another. Dalton groaned as Kit curved his fingers inside him, hitting that sweet spot and making him squirm with impatience and desire. He took Dalton's length into his other hand and pumped in time with his fingers, slipping a third in and letting him adjust and stretch around him.

Dalton was panting—begging for more.

"I love it when you beg," Kit murmured before slowly withdrawing his fingers.

"Don't. Stop," Dalton complained, and Kit smirked down at him.

Grabbing the lube again, he coated himself, then flipped Dalton over onto his stomach, propping up his hips with a pillow. He teased the entrance with his tip, massaging Dalton's lower back gently before sliding into him, slowly. He felt Dalton quiver, then relax around him, and Kit knew he could move. He pulled back so slowly that Dalton huffed longingly. Kit chuckled low and throaty, removing himself completely before slamming back into him, over and over. He reached out and grabbed Dalton by the hips and shoulder, pulling him into a kneeling position.

"God, Kit!" Dalton's panting came faster and faster and Kit felt the bundle of nerves tightening within him, ready for release.

"I'm close," he groaned and Dalton leaned forward with his hand braced against the headboard, supporting his own weight as he stroked himself.

Kit lost himself in Dalton then, thrusting quickly and greedily into him, relishing in the sensations, and hastily approaching his climax. He felt the initial spasms and pulled out, spilling himself over Dalton's back with a satisfied moan. Dalton's release came moments later and they collapsed in a wet, messy heap on top of each other.

"Still jealous?" Kit murmured playfully after a few moments of catching his breath.

Dalton laughed beneath him, "Not at all."

…

Dalton woke up before Kit, taking a moment to watch the other boy as he slept peacefully beside him. It was still early morning, the sky barely glowing outside his window, but it cast a delicate sheen over Kit's features, turning his hair into rose gold.

Dalton always thought the combination of blue eyes and blonde hair was the most attractive. On Kit it reminded him of a sunrise over the ocean, of being back home in Florida and spending his days out on the water.

He missed home, and he missed his family.

His parents had died in a car accident when he was sixteen, and he'd been sent to New York to live with an aunt after everything happened. Then Simon Lovelace, the Shadowhunter recruiter, not that he knew that at the time, approached him. He had never been close with his aunt, so he left for the Academy without a second thought on the matter. For all anyone knew, Dalton Morris was a teenage runaway who was most likely dead. And he hadn't been back to Florida since.

Dalton Sungrove knew now that it was pretty common for Shadowhunters to be orphaned and it was something that helped him move on when he was at the Academy. It didn't stop him from missing his mundane life, though he also couldn't imagine not being a Shadowhunter. He imagined Kit felt similarly about it, not that he talked much about his parents or his life before, but when he did Dalton got the distinct impression that his mundane life was far from normal anyway.

He still felt a bit silly for his bout of jealousy the day before. He really had no reason to dislike Ty—and actually, he very much liked Ty. He was incredibly smart, had a pretty cool pet, and Dalton was glad that Ty had been Kit's first friend, regardless of whatever their relationship was now. He found Ty a little quirky too, and he remembered that most Shadowhunters knew very little about mundane disorders. But he was aware that Ty was likely on the spectrum, with the way he avoided eye contact and most physical contact. The way he mostly kept to himself and seemed to use his headphones for self-regulation. He probably didn't make friends easily, which was another reason Dalton felt like an idiot for being jealous in the first place.

Dalton let his train of thoughts wander as he watched the steady rise and fall of Kit's chest, bare and exposed. Kit was the loveliest thing he thought he'd ever lay eyes on. He almost fell in love with Kit all over again, just watching him now.

Kit grumbled in his sleep then, and Dalton noticed the way his eyelids twitched, eyes moving rapidly beneath them.

Kit was dreaming.

"Don't do it," Kit mumbled in an agonized way.

Dalton wondered what on earth he was dreaming about, and contemplated waking him. He didn't though, and Kit didn't say anything else for a long time.

"Please," came a whimper from the sleeping boy. "Please, I love you."

Dalton started, and his heart began to race erratically within his chest. Who was Kit dreaming about? Part of him didn't want to know.

Kit's next words were an answer to his internal questions.

"I love you, Ty. I love you," he murmured, in such a way that Dalton didn't doubt for one second that the words were true. At least, they were true in Kit's subconscious.

Dalton froze, feeling his chest clench painfully, and tried to tell himself that it was just a dream; that words spoken in sleep didn't mean anything. But he was kidding himself—he knew all too well that waking thoughts and worries often manifested themselves in dreams. Knew instinctively that Kit had been in love with Ty. It was a confirmation of what he had already suspected since Ty's sudden arrival.

He crept slowly out of bed. He didn't want to wake Kit; didn't want Kit to see him like this. He needed time to process before he faced Kit again, or else he wouldn't be able to manage the feelings bubbling up inside him.

He didn't know whether to cry or scream, but either way, he needed to go to the training room. He pulled on his training clothes and slipped as quietly as he could from his room.

With one last glance at Kit, still sleeping soundly, he closed the door with a soft click, feeling his world crumbling around him.

…..