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CHAPTER TWELVE:
Out of the Pan

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This Chapter's Song: The Funeral by Band of Horses.

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All sleepy eyes snapped open, alert and awake, and rushed to Jace and Clary's side. Magnus was calling out for supplies. Bandages. Alcohol. Pixie sticks. He needed the energy.

Alec stayed by his side, should his energy be needed. He knew with every spell, Magnus was being drained. He knew he should have kept his eyes on Jace and Clary, whose limp bodies bled onto the sofas and floors like something out of a horror movie, but he couldn't take his eyes off Magnus. There was nothing he could do for Jace. He wanted to do everything for Magnus. Something bubbled inside of him that he didn't quite understand but was anxious to explore when his best friends weren't bleeding to death.

It took an hour but the wounds were healing. Not well, certainly not quickly, but they were healing. Jocelyn was frantic, tear-stained. Nobody knew what had happened, if this was the end, but they were no longer hurting and they were still trapped in the painting.

"We should torch it," said Izzy, staring at the painting.

Simon came up beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side for comfort. She shivered when her eyes reached one part of the painting. It just looked like buildings. It was a small part, but Izzy knew death and death was trapped in that little corner. She looked to Jocelyn, who still cried by Clary's side, and silently summoned her to the painting. They all came, drawn to that one little spot of ink, no larger than the circumference of a basketball against a wall-sized painting.

"It's drying," someone whispered, though nobody caught who. It was on all their minds. "The ink is drying."

They stared, watching it spread slowly. "Guys, we're watching paint dry, here," Magnus reminded them and went back to Jace and Clary's side but nobody followed. It was like watching a supernova in slow motion. They were hypnotized.

"Do you think they've won?" asked Simon. "They haven't come out yet."

"Can't we pull them out?" added Izzy, turning to Jocelyn and Magnus.

They shook their heads. "We don't know what it might do. We could hurt their souls. They need to reach the symbol over the tower, right?" Magnus asked Jocelyn, who nodded, unsure.

Then, after hours of watching and waiting uselessly, everything seemed to collide into a single minute. Luke crashed back into the room carrying unlit torches and gasoline in buckets and an expression that made everyone jump out of his path.

"Lucian, you put that down right now!" shouted Jocelyn, her hands on her hips. "My daughter is in there!"

"Our daughter!" he snapped and everyone thought they saw the wolf breaking through. Luke had always been such a calming, reliable person in their lives and here he was. Holding death in his hands, desperate and hurt like they'd never seen. He'd gone years rejected by the woman he loved. He had never once tried to change his circumstance, never taken action. For such a violent alter-ago, he had never taken action. And there he was. They all stood, frozen.

"Luke, what—" she continued but he was upon her, face to face.

He clenched his fists and fought the urge to grab her shoulders and shake her though everyone in the room could tell it was his desire. "She's our daughter, Jocelyn. I've been with you both for years. She sees me as a father, even if you never understood. I've taken care of you both. I've loved you. And even now, even when our biological child is growing inside you, you still keep me at a distance. I refuse to step back, Jocelyn. It's not just about you. It affects us all now. You actions affect us. This abomination on the wall… it affects us, Jocy!"

"I GET IT!" she shouted, her voice cracking into a thousand different pieces. "But he was my son! He was taken from me and he was turned into this vile demon by the man I loved with all my heart. This was before you were every anything to me, Luke, long before any of these kids were born. This is a vendetta, unfinished business from my life before there was an 'us.' I cannot bring this child into the world with the knowledge that I've abandoned my first son, left him in the arms of that son of a bitch! It's mine to settle! It's my job to fix this!"

Magnus cleared his throat. "Uhm, I was born several hundred years before either of you. And I know it's pointless and rude to interrupt your little tirade but I thought you should also know that the painting is cracking."

Everyone whipped around to the wall. The ink had been so wet and so thick that, upon drying, the ink turned to a chalk-like solid away from the canvas and bits had begun to fall down. Other parts were dripping. And, in the far distance, they could hear light screaming.

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"Jace?" Clary called, trying to rouse him awake. She could still feel him in her mind like his hands were choking her soul to death just trying to hold on. "I can't feel my wounds anymore, baby. I think Magnus healed us."

She had propped him up over her shoulder and was dragging him as he had dragged her, with little resistance. Without Jonathan, they were completely weightless. Their souls had been separated from their bodies far too long and she could feel the death coming. It would have been peaceful if it weren't for the city falling apart around them slowly.

What had once been beautiful, elegant black lines, forming windows and doors and trees… were now dragging down onto the streets in puddles. She was walking through a city of black masses. And she had no idea if they could get to the tower in time before the stairs up to the top floor melted into another large mass.

They had managed to get a step up on the city. It was collapsing at a steady, slow rate. She stopped for a moment and tried to get Jace to open his eyes, sure that he was still alive and slowly growing stronger. She lowered him to the ground and set him down onto his knees so he could sit on his ankles. She held his cheeks and smiled, letting the peace of impending death momentarily take her over, whispering in her ear all the ways they could not escape.

"Jace," she whispered. "Open your eyes, baby. Just open them for me so I knew you're still with me."

He let out a small moan and his lips curved into a sneer she knew too well, his eyes still closed as though glued shut. "What do you mean if I'm still with you? How could I leave, Clary?"

She didn't know what about his words made the tranquility of death seem like the stupidest fucking thing she'd ever felt, considered, or even momentarily pondered during an understandably tough situation. She suddenly – urgently – needed to get back to reality, needed to feel his arms around her. What's more, she needed his lips on her neck the way he'd done what felt like a lifetime ago. She needed to keep on living so she could have this boy all to herself. Forever.

He seemed to hear every desire like the heart still beating in the ink, faltering in the distance. She rode the rush of adrenaline and pulled him to his feet. He was still blind but he didn't need these eyes. He just smiled and followed as through floating behind her. He laughed and began to run after her and it felt like they were little kids, running to some frivolous little hiding place instead of salvation.

It didn't matter if they never got there. They were together.

And so, neither would remember running up the stairs through the tower, towards the roof. They wouldn't remember the kiss they shared when they got there, completely clueless as to how to summon an exit, and they certainly wouldn't remember jumping off the roof trying to touch the symbol in the sky.

They would, however, always remember that her hand was in his when they woke surrounded by family and that they could not be torn apart until the next morning.

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Magnus left their room around dawn. He could smell Alec from across the long hall where he walked staring at his feet. It was a habit Magnus had been trying to change in him but one he still smiled at every time he saw it. He must have felt Magnus watching him because he looked up and smiled back brilliantly.

They met halfway down the hall so they were far enough from any rooms. It was a habit, something they did subconsciously so they wouldn't be overheard. Doors were dangerous still.

"Did Luke torch it?" asked Magnus.

Alec nodded. "Did they get to sleep okay?"

Magnus nodded back. And then the comfortable silence took over. He wrapped an arm around Alec 's waist and drew him closer. For once, there were no complaints. They were completely alone.

"You're probably tired," said Alec, a coy smirk slowly making its way to the base of Magnus' neck.

"You know… that takes up very little energy by comparison and I—"

Alec raised a hand and smacked Magnus across the head. "No, you glittery idiot," he hissed. "We're going to bed and you're going straight to sleep. Understand?"

He must have been tired because Magnus didn't contest the order. Not only did he like it when Alec tried to take control, he knew what Alec was suggesting. He'd be going to sleep but he wouldn't be going alone. They began to walk towards one of the guest rooms.

"I'm proud of you, you know," whispered Alec, pushing in the door to the room. He didn't have time to pull off the covers before Magnus fell forward, face first. They chuckled and Alec crawled in beside him, snuggling close.

"Why? 'Cause I saved your little boyfriend?" joked Magnus.

"Shut up. You did all this for me. I'm allowed to be proud of you."

"I'm keeping a list. You're more than welcome to pay me back one of these nights. It's been a while."

Alec rolled his eyes and began to run his fingers through Magnus' hair. He shuddered and, as though a curtain of magic were lowered, his hair returned to its natural long, dark length. No glitter. No make-up. No tight leather trousers or dog collars. Only smiles.

"Sure, Mags. Whatever you say," said Alec but it didn't have the usual connotation. It was an honest offer. He was opening himself up to whatever punishment Magnus could conjure for his lack of faith during the crisis.

"Anything I say?" mumbled Magnus sleepily. "Anything at all?"

Alec moaned a yes, closing his own eyes. He'd been by Jace's body the whole while and, despite drifting off every now and then, he hadn't really gotten much sleep since it all began. "Anything."

A flash of red light made him open his eyes suddenly. A little blue box was sitting on the pillow where Magnus had once been. Alec shot up and looked around. Magnus was sitting on the sofa on the other side of the room, leaning forward onto his knees and looking deathly. He'd used some of the last bits of his energy to conjure the box, which raised all sorts of alerts in Alec.

"What is it?" he asked, taking the box and opening it slowly. Were it anyone else, he's have immediately thought to wedding ring but objects such as those did not cross the mind of someone like Alec, someone who was so conditioned to the idea of spending the rest of his life alone.

Magnus rolled his eyes. "Why do people always ask that when they see a box? Open the freakin' thing and find out."

"I asked because it's you, you ass. Objects with you are never what they seem. Pardon me for being afraid that a jack-in-the-box might end up being an actual guy named Jack jumping out of a box."

He lifted the tiny lid and found the remnant of what might be called a locket. It was silver and had only one face. He looked across the room at where Magnus was holding the other part, dangling from a thin, silver necklace.

"I know you hate the word but isn't this a little fruity?" asked Alec, opening and closing the box, waiting for Jack to jump out and suggest a threesome.

The word didn't even penetrate Magnus' train of thought. "Uh… yea, I guess."

At that, Alec snapped to attention and jumped off the bed. "No snappy comeback, no explanation laden with creative expletives? I mean, you just gave me a gift that wasn't edible or all kinds of dirty. What the fuck's going on?!"

He chuckled lightly and shrugged. "It means a lot to me. I want you to have it. I know it's a chick move but it does and I do."

Their eyes refused to meet and Alec was suddenly entranced by the little piece of silver. He lifted it up off the box's velvet lining and turned to see the photo. It was ancient to someone as young as Alec. It was of someone resembling Magnus. It would have been Magnus except for the human eyes. Even with the hair and make-up gone, the cat eyes remained. They weren't in the photo which meant that it probably really was an ancient photo, before ancient was ancient.

Alec looked up, his eyes begging and demanding an explanation at the same time. Was this one of those rare moments of vulnerability he was supposed to look out for in a relationship? They'd never really called it a relationship. It was a dirty word to someone like Magnus who had, at one point, been the definition of promiscuity.

"What does it mean, Mag?" he asked. "What are you trying to say?"

"Don't worry. But you're right. It says… uh, well." It wasn't confusion or pride that paused his words. It was exhaustion. His eyes were losing their yellowy splendor, returning to the darkness Alec had only ever seen in that photo.

Alec got up and knelt on the edge of the sofa, straddling him. He continued to rake his hair back lovingly, looking down with sweetness on his lips. "What does it mean to you, Mag?"

"It's all I have left of… back then. What I'm trying to say is that I want to make whatever we have official. To your parents, to my family, to—"

Alec practically choked on his own tongue and quickly interrupted, "FAMILY? You have a family? You said—"

"They're as close to me as Jace and Clary and Isabelle are to you, though not technically related."

"Well, Jace and Isabelle. Clary, I could… Forget it. I get your point. Mag, are you asking me to… marry you?"

If Magnus hadn't been so exhausted, he would have laughed himself to death. "No, you queen. The symbol on the front of the locket is my crest. I have it tattooed over my chest, remember? I was proposing we get you the matching tattoo but if you're in this for marriage, I'm starting to think we need to get your head examined and maybe even a lobotomy. Man!"

Alec got off him and gave him his mother's most disapproving stare, which just made Magnus laugh harder. Alec threw his arms in the air in surrender and was about to storm out when the door opened from the other side, revealing a very stricken Isabelle.

"Izzy, you okay?" he asked. Magnus continued to laugh softly in the background, dragging himself back to bed. Alec's eye roll told Izzy to ignore him. "Jace and Clary still asleep?"

She nodded, her eyes to the floor. "Yea, Simon was about to head over there now. Do you think I could talk to Magnus for a moment?"

Magnus began laughing harder, throwing his pillow over his head and attempting to pull the sheets out from under him. Alec looked murderous but decided there was no winning this. "Fine. And while you're here, maybe you can explain the evils of branding to him," he said and flipped around to shoot Magnus a quick, "You asshole!"

"Says the guy that wanted to get married!"

The laughter hit a crescendo then quickly died as soon as Alec slammed the door behind him. Magnus called Izzy over to the bed, a little more serious. He sat up and gave her his full attention.

"You're here to ask me what to do about Simon, aren't you?" he asked, as fascinated as an old woman watching a soap opera for the first time. "It's two days to the full moon back home. You've got to get to the Seelie Court. You dug yourself into this little mess, you know. I'd just rape him one last time for old time's sake and move on with Meliorn."

She glowered at him. "You know about me and Meliorn, don't you?"

"You mean that he took you back, promised he'd run off with you after Simon left, and got punished by his queen? Yes I freakin' know! Every magical creature in three dimensions knows! I'm surprised Simon doesn't but he's a bit of an oblivious idiot so I guess I'm not surprised and nobody tells nothing to the Institute. You feel indebted to Meliorn for having to suffer over you. I get it. But he suffered for a week, Iz. Why do you insist on suffering for a lifetime over your guilt about Simon? He's not some pathetic little kid anymore. He can take care of himself, take care of all of us—"

"I fucked up!" she shouted, making Magnus jump. She wasn't in the mood for long, complicated speeches about all the crappy choices she'd made and how hopeless she should feel. "I fucked up. I get it. Now, are you going to help me fool the Seelie Court or not?"

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Seelie Court and Luke and Jocelyn next! Thanks for reading so far.

Reviews are better than creative expletives.