A/N: It's been a long time.
The God of Wine comes crashing through
The headlights of a car that took you farther
Than you thought you'd ever want to go
We can't get back again
We can't get back again
~ Third Eye Blind
God of Wine
The library door stood a few inches open, the glow from the chandeliers above the massive oak table cast a strip of light onto the unlit hallway. From where she stood against the wall, Clary's view was extremely limited though she could still hear the voices of the adults, courtesy of the rune that enhanced her hearing on her inner arm. The Silent brothers had left a few hours ago, though despite the hour, Jocelyn and Luke remained behind with Maryce and Robert, the four of them pouring over old Alicante property records in search of anything Valentine could have owned. News of the angel's wings had been reported back to the Clave and the threat of losing the Institute hung above the Lightwood's heads.
"If what Clary says is true, Valentine could have created any number of hideouts," she heard Maryce Lightwood say. "Even the warlock wasn't able to locate them."
"There must be a way. A more powerful warlock." Robert Lightwood's disembodied voice resonated from within, his tone decided, indicating that he had no wish to further bring up his son's scandalous ex-boyfriend. "The High Warlock of Brooklyn isn't the only damn warlock in New York," he grunted and Clary could practically see his eyes rolling, feeling if possible more sympathy for Alec.
"Magnus is the best one in the tri-state area…"
The third voice was her mother's, and Clary heard the weariness in her voice. She knew how much her mother trusted Magnus and had always relied on him since she was a little girl. The realization had surprised everyone, how much they had come to rely on the warlock only to find out that he no longer wished to be associated with any of them. Isabelle had been the last person to have seen him and would be the last if Magnus stayed true to his word.
"Then we'll search every state till we find another one. San Francisco may have other contacts," Robert continued brusquely though Clary could hear the stress in his voice. Without a means to find Sebastian the Lightwoods were probably going to lose the Institute for sure. Of course the Clave was also doing their own search but even that had led to nothing. Between Jace's heavenly fire and the hunt for Sebastian it seemed like the additional toll of Downworlder deaths were beyond the capabilities of the New York Shadowhunters.
Finally abandoning her position by the library door, Clary walked back to one of the lounge rooms where she had previously left Jace and Isabelle to bicker over the whereabouts of Sebastian. Both of them looked up as she entered the room and sat down on the couch closest to the fire and furthest from Jace. He still couldn't risk touching any of them and while he was out of the infirmary, he was pretty much stuck behind Institute walls, the result of which only served to make him grouchy when there was so much to be done.
Gold eyes watch her expectantly, darkening as he eyed the distance between them with reluctant acceptance. "So? Have we lost the Institute yet?"
"No. Of course not," she said shooting him a reproachful look. He looked positively irresistible when he was in one of his moods, all golden panes and angles and sharing his frustrations she couldn't really be annoyed. "They're looking for another Warlock."
"And a fat load of good that's going to do," Isabelle mumbled bitterly from between the pages of her fashion magazine. While Alec's depression and change in behaviour had been bad for everyone, Isabelle had been particularly affected. Witnessing her brother's agony that she could do nothing to ease only left her in the worst possible moods. The fact that Alec kept sneaking out and staying away for entire days and nights only to come back and crash for twenty-four hours with clear with signs that he had been getting into demon fights by himself riled her even more and filled everyone with constant worry. Clary knew that Robert and Maryce had tried to keep Alec in check from any form of self-sabotage, but since he was past eighteen and technically an adult there was little hope of that either.
"They also think that finding any other possible abandoned properties is going to help. Sebastian must be somewhere. He can't disappear from the face of this earth – not with all his demonic Nephiliam…"
"We can't really know that for sure," Jace reasoned thoughtfully, and she sighed as she had to agree that he was right. "I just don't understand how he managed to summon an angel," he continued. "Simon would have died if it hadn't been for the Mark of Cain."
The truth was that none of them had any answers and the fact that they were forbidden to leave the institute until some plan could be devised grated on all of them and as the nights grew late the restless energy was almost too much to bear. When they weren't thinking about Sebastian it was worrying over Alec and seeing how he was regularly the only one missing that was easy to do. This night was no exception and finally when the grandfather clock chimed three in the morning, Isabelle huffed and pushed herself off the couch.
"Well I'm going to bed," she announced. "If my jerk of a brother wants to stay out by himself I'm not waiting up." And Clary watched as Isabelle stalked gracefully towards the direction of the bedrooms and stopped in her tracks as a rather loud crash was heard and Church came flying out of the dark like a bat out of hell before disappearing under the couch Jace was sitting on. They heard someone whisper a curse as another thud could be heard and everyone relaxed immediately as they recognized the owner of the voice.
Sure enough Alec Lightwood, who thankfully managed to clear the threshold without knocking into anything else, stumbled towards them and collapsed into the couch furthest from the fire with a groan. Immediately Jace was on his feet and at his parabatai's side, followed by Isabelle who was glaring daggers at her brother who was pretending not to notice.
"Where the hell did you go?" Isabelle demanded, and Clary watched as Alec winced slightly before letting his eyes flutter closed before answering the question.
"Out. Downtown actually." He replied. There must have been something funny about it because the next moment Clary heard him giggle darkly.
Wow, three whole words, she thought, wondering what on earth could have cause this improvement in mood (lately he could have given the Silent Brothers a run for their money) at least until she was close enough for her to smell the alcohol that clung to him and way his eyes shone, glassy and glazed when he opening them again.
"Jesus Christ, you're drunk." Isabelle's voice dripped with disapproval and Clary realized that she couldn't ever remember seeing Alec drunk. He was usually always the sensible one. So careful, so in control.
"The man could turn water into wine," he slurred drunkenly. "Maybe someone should look into that. Jesus could have been a Downworlder."
Next to Clary Jace stifled a chuckle and Isabelle rolled her eyes though didn't say anything. It took a moment for Clary to notice just how awful Alec looked and from the sound of Isabelle's intake she wasn't the only one.
"Is that ash on your face?" Isabelle leaned closer to examine him, pulling at his arm which Clary only had begun to notice was pressed to his side underneath his jacket. Alec winced and groaned in protest as he tried to shield himself from his sister.
"Get off me! Jace, get her out of here!" His words are a slurred snarl but Clary could tell that he meant them and so apparently did Izzy because she let go of him as if he had slapped her, watching him with dark, hurt filled eyes before storming off to her bedroom.
Clary heard Jace mutter a curse as they all heard a door slam from the direction that Isabelle had disappeared and knew that there would be hell to pay in the morning. But as Alec slowly shrugged off his jacket, she realized that now wasn't the time to care about Izzy's feelings because the older boy had lifted the hem of his shirt and Clary heard the intake of her own breath as she looked down to see the nasty, puncture-like wounds that marred the pale panes of Alec's smooth stomach.
Almost immediately Jace was already handing her his steele, his face a grim mask as she took it from him before leaning over her boyfriend's parabatai. She could practically see how this was killing him. Not being able to heal Alec himself because touching him might be his death…
And as she worked on Alec's wounds, she remembered how she once wondered how it was possible to die of grief. Nephiliam don't love like normal people – her brother's words echo as she drew another iraze.
This was how.
