a/n: I know, all of you probably hate me. As well you should- I suck. I could give you a list of excuses for my lateness… but that would only make me suck more. But I do want to make a teeny tiny request – before you read this chappie, go back and read a few chapters. As a fic reader, when an author takes forever to post, I tend to lose some of my enjoyment and connection to the story because it's been so long. I find that it helps to read at least part of the fic over again in order to get back into the groove of things. I know you guys are like.. "B***h please, it's your fault we had to wait so long in the first place and now you're telling me how to READ your late-a** chapters?" And I deserve that. But, I promise, you'll enjoy it more if you do.
Alec had opted to walk home. It was better this way, he needed the time to think about things and he was positive that if he took a cab he would get home in a few minutes and immediately pass out. Plus, he could always skip morning practice. Of course, that would mean risking Jace getting irritated and Isabelle being annoyingly nosy. He never missed morning training, and with all of the madness of the past few days, they hadn't been able to do a proper training for far too long.
But Alec had made up his mind. Walk and think now, sleep on it some more later. No time for training. In fact, he didn't feel the least bit guilty about skipping, even though he was the oldest, of age, and had always been the 'responsible' one. Not today. Today Responsibility could go to hell.
He set out into the cool night and mulled over the events of this emotionally draining day. It had started off with him fretting over Jace's injuries, fussing over him and furious that he'd dived head first into such a ridiculously dangerous situation. Then there was Clary. That fight had left him brooding for the rest of the day. Seeing her and Jace sneak up the stairs that night, their conspiratorial body language expressing a desperate desire to be close to each other, and Jace starring at her like she could move the sun and the earth - it had broken Alec's heart. Quite literally, Alec had felt something inside him snap and he'd rushed out of the Institute without a moment's hesitation. And then… there was Magnus. Despite Alec's reluctance to see the warlock, despite his anxiety and discomfort upon their meeting, Magnus had proven to be a sort of refuge for Alec. In those few short hours, all of the tension and raw fury building up in him the past few weeks had melted away, if only temporarily.
And for once he hadn't used his usual coping mechanism to deal with his Jace-problem. He hadn't opted to reassure himself that he was actually more important to Jace than anyone else, that Jace would always need him, that he would be there for Jace in whatever capacity he could, however Jace wanted him, and that all of that was enough for Alec. He hadn't, for once, opted to drown the real problem in a sea of false consolation, effectively silencing his insecurities until the next time something happened that hinted at the fact that keeping things as is was slowly driving Alec insane.
No. This time Alec had done the exact opposite. He had admitted to himself, and to Magnus, everything he'd desperately tried to keep hidden in some dark corner of his mind. Yes- Jace needed him, cared about him, loved him even, but not the way Alec wanted him to, and not the way Jace loved, cared about, and needed Clary.
With this in mind Alec realized that a lot of the sheer fury and hatred he'd been harboring against Clary had cooled to a mere simmer. She was right. He hadn't hated her for getting Jace into trouble; Jace had never been one to follow anyone's lead, and he regularly found trouble all on his own. What Alec had really held against her was that she, not a love of danger, not the thrill of the hunt, and not his trademark near-suicidal mania, had inspired him to get into this particular mess. Jace had walked right into a teeming vampire lair for her. He'd done it to impress her by showing off his skills, he'd done it to console her by rescuing her friend. He'd done it because he had only met the girl days before and had already proved time and again that there was little he wouldn't do for her- whether or not she asked it of him.
Clary was filling a void in Jace that Alec had never even had the privilege of getting a proper glimpse of. As petty and childish as it was, Alec couldn't help being jealous and then hating her all the more for making him act irrationally and feel such base emotions.
Alec slowed his steps as his mind took a dark turn. It was still quite disturbing to be so honest with himself; and it was far more daunting without Magnus there to talk him through things. But part of Alec was relieved that he hadn't discussed these uglier parts of himself with Magnus. The warlock had already seen Alec at his worst a couple of times, it was a miracle he didn't think Alec was some kind of deranged emotional time bomb.
Magnus hadn't even flinched when Alec had told him about how he had thrown Clary at the wall in a fit of rage. Alec cringed at the memory; it had been beyond out of line and out of character of him. Granted, she had been out of line as well. What she had said about Alec... what Jace had said about Alec, was painful to hear, and she knew it. She had wanted to hurt him- and he had hurt her back. No matter how much he regretted his brash reaction, he couldn't deny that the he could still felt the ache that had spurred the brief bout of violence. He couldn't just turn off years of devotion to Jace, he would always be special to Alec, and it sliced him to the core to think that Jace thought him a coward. Earlier in the night, Magnus had called him brave; told him Jace shouldn't be the basis by which he measures himself. Alec wasn't convinced, but it was a relief to know that not everyone thought as ill of him as Jace apparently did. But then again, Magnus was a different story altogether.
A sudden shiver momentarily distracted Alec from his thoughts. He tucked his hands around himself and dug them into his jacket pockets, trying to block off the cold. He wasn't too far from home now, only a few more blocks.
The next time we meet it will be because you want to see me.
The memory of those words, and how Magnus' burnished green eyes seemed to be pleading for something caused a sharp spike in Alec's pulse. Magnus had quickly proven to be both everything Alec had expected of him and nothing like he'd imagined. He was just as lewd and frivolous and flashy as he appeared that first night, all traits that Alec had initially disliked about the warlock, but was now finding strangely… endearing.
On top of that, Magnus had displayed a surprising degree of compassion, sensitivity to the needs and feelings of others. Alec snorted at the thought of a sensitive Magnus Bane. No one back at the Institute would believe him if Alec had told them that Magnus could be as attentive as he could be self-involved, as genuine and serious as he could be vain and flippant. In fact, as he thought back to the party, he doubted that any of his downworlder friends knew about this side of Magnus either. He had studiously ignored most of them and even harshly reprimanded a few (Alec couldn't help but grin at the memory of Magnus holding the offending vamp in some kind of invisible headlock when he dared raise his voice at the High Warlock of Brooklyn). But Alec's smile faltered as he realized what all of this meant.
Maybe… maybe Magnus wasn't like that with others at all. Maybe Magnus was just sensitive to Alec's feelings and attentive of Alec's needs. No one else's.
Alec stopped in his tracks as a sudden wave of nausea hit him. He wasn't sure if he was elated, or embarrassed, or angry, or afraid, or what. He couldn't remember a single time in his life when he had felt so many contradicting emotions at once.
He was tempted to fall right into the glaring sensation of fear and let it take over, let it compel him to tuck Magnus Bane away in some deep dark corner of his mind where he couldn't wreak any more havoc on his fragile nerves. Fear he could handle. Fear he knew all to well. Fear he understood. Fear and him were old friends. But after spending the evening basking in such open, honest introspection, Alec couldn't let himself take the easy way out.
Suddenly aware that he was standing stock-still on the sidewalk as the sky had begun to become several shades lighter, Alec spotted a bench up in the distance. He quickly shuffled over to it and took a seat, his legs tingling from the long slow-paced walk. He decided it was finally time to ask himself the question he'd been mentally hedging for days.
He said the words out loud as though the darkness would swallow it whole and spit back out an answer.
"How do I... What do I feel for Magnus Bane?"
He waited. But he knew it wasn't going to be that easy. It's not like he could just ask his subconscious and it would respond with a nice neat one-sentence reply. That's not how the whole inner-turmoil thing worked. Anyways, it wasn't that clear-cut with Magnus.
There was something there, of course. Something that hovered in the air between them as they spoke, something lighting a spark in their eyes as they held each others' gazes, something that caused Alec's blood to gush, hot, through his veins at every casual brush or touch. No, Alec couldn't deny it, no matter how much a part of him wanted to. There was definitely something, something new, and real, and absolutely terrifying happening between him and Magnus Bane.
Each time he encountered the warlock found Alec feeling even more violently nervous and anxious than the time before. The warlock unsettled him, no doubt. Magnus took him out of his comfort zone, repeatedly, knowingly, and seemed to thoroughly enjoy doing so. But it was more than that.
Like tonight. Alec had gone to that café a complete mess. But, somehow, Magnus had managed to calm him, gotten him to talk about that night, gotten him to talk about his entire life, dragged out his secrets and hidden thoughts. And Alec had been a willing participant, eager to lay himself completely bare to the warlock.
Those few hours, he had been entirely fearless, overcoming the perpetual state of insecurity that had thus far defined him.
Alec knew what that meant. He knew. And though it scared him, he couldn't help feeling a bit hopeful as well.
Alec got up from the bench and walked on, eventually turning onto his street, the Institute just up ahead. As he closed the distance he looked up at the grand building and on a whim tried to momentarily stop his mind from seeing through the glamour. He squinted with effort as he tried to see the dilapidated cathedral that every mundie saw as they passed. It had been over a decade since the last time anything less than an extremely powerful glamour had fooled him. He stood there on the dark sidewalk, dimly lit by a few stray streetlights lining the road. He tried again and again to will his eyes to lose their Sight.
After a time, he felt the cold of the night seeping through his thin jacket, causing a fresh set of goose bumps to cover his arms. He sighed and decided to stop fighting himself.
Clearly, once you see the truth, there's no going back, no deluding yourself.
Why would he want to lose his Sight anyways? That broken down building, along with all glamour, was just a fake visage - false and superficial. A lie, meant to keep the squeamish and faint of heart from having to deal with the dangers of reality.
All Alec had to do now was to find out if he was one of the cowardly masses or if he was as brave as Magnus seemed to think he was. Was he ready to open his eyes and submit to the truth and everything that would surely come with it? Because once he gave in—there was no turning back.
Alec walked towards the doorway, a sleepy grin gracing his face at the thought of spending the next twelve hours catching up on lost sleep.