Chapter four: Max

The night had fallen in the Glass City. The buildings held no light, and the people did not speak a word. Even the wind, which ran through Alec's hair, was silent. The stars above held the only light besides the small candle – located towards Alec's right, hanging – that allowed him to see the small boy.

The kid was propped against a stone building, crouched. He had curled his knees in, towards his chest, and crossed his arms over them – as if he were looking for protection. From what Alec could see, his hair was the darkest of night. He was pale, like himself. And he cried, cried as though he might die that night.

"Are you alright?" Alec asks. The boy does not look up; he does not stop sobbing.

Alec is about to touch him, but the scenery changes in a sudden morph. He sees a table and mirror crash to the floor, the harsh ground ripping out from under him – replaced by wooden floorboard. He feels the wind vanish with a vast "hush," and being replaced by calm air. Alec recognized the place as the Penhallows' – the exact place where Max was killed.

"Why weren't you there?" The boy, who still sat in the same position on the floor, said. He had looked up. "Why didn't you protect me?" He cried. It was the most scared, child-like voice he had ever heard in his life.

Alec feels the world crash down around him. He feels the familiar ringing in his ears return and recur again. He feels as though someone had pounded his stomach in, shattered his heart into hundreds of broken pieces. He wasn't just any boy. He was Max.

Alec didn't even try to hide the guilt in his voice. "I'm sorry. It wasn't me." He falls to the floor in front of the boy. "I tried so hard!"

Max still sobs as though he didn't hear Alec's words. "It's all your fault," he cries again, "you trusted a monster." Max's hands drew up to his face and yanked at his own hair. His glasses were gone, and his eyes had bulged out in fear and a sort of craziness that Alec knew didn't belong in the eyes of his little brother.

Alec crawls over and pulls Max into his arms. "I'm sorry," he said, guilt and pain consuming his voice, "I wish I was there. I wish I could of…" he stops as he sees someone enter the mirror, behind Max.

What he saw were large, black boots that shone brilliantly. Black clothing that hung loose onto a semi-muscular teenage boy. One that was his age, one that had crisp black hair and the most handsome curve of a jaw Alec had ever seen.

"Sebastian," Alec whispered, his eyes widening in fury. He felt like punching him until he begged for him to stop. He felt like cutting him into little pieces and throwing him in the trash where he belonged – frowning, frowning and un-free.

Sebastian raises his toned arms, a hammer clasped in his gloved hands. The look on his face is menacing and is filled with bliss – as if he were enjoying himself. He laughs as Alec shields Max with his own body, the hammer coming down and striking him, striking him to the ground.

--

Alec awakes for the hundredth time that day. He was on Magnus's couch, covered in dozens of blankets reserved just to keep him warm. The lights were dimmed, and the menacing glares he had received were gone. Max was gone.

Alec frowned and closed his eyes, once again. He heard people arguing before him, voices being raised and set like daggers in unjust directions. Alec felt as though he wanted to shield himself from them, but instead he opened his eyes and looked in the said battle's direction.

He saw Magnus standing up on one side of the table, looking angry and bothered. Jace, too, stood. He held the same expression, and was staged opposite Magnus. Alec knew - immediately - that they'd been fighting again.

Clary had grasped Jace by the arm and was trying to speak to him – probably coax him into sitting down and forgetting about his quarrel with Magnus. Isabelle stayed out of the fight – she was sitting down, coffee in hand. er expres

Her expression held boredom, like she'd heard that specific argument every day.

Jace continued, not realizing Alec had awoken. "Sebastian is dead. I got rid of him myself."

Magnus frowned again. "I never said he was alive. I'm just trying to throw in another possibility – one that doesn't involve your insignificant, putrefied way of thinking." He mumbled something after that, something Alec can't seem to hear.

"Yours isn't any better."

Alec sat up and shrugged the covers off of him. He stood as the argument once again escalated, adjusted his shirt and walked over to Magnus's side. Magnus placed an arm around him, almost automatically.

"I don't feel the need to argue with you," Magnus said, dangerous and as cool as ice. He pulled out a chair – located next to Isabel – and asked for Alec to sit down. Alec does sit, though sighing at Magnus's and Jace's personal tendencies.

"…I could just be seeing things," Alec said, cutting Jace off. "It's happened before." He remembered all of the psychopaths he had heard Hodge talk about and shivered in trademark. None of those cases ended well.

"There's no way you would just see and feel things randomly, Alec," Magnus put his hands on his shoulders, rubbing them in a massage. "It's magic. A curse. And I'm pretty sure of it."

"A curse?" Jace asked. "Why didn't you mention that earlier?"

"Because you were busy yelling, you dingbat Nephilim."

"What?" Jace asked, but Magnus ignored him.

Magnus continued to rub Alec's shoulders in comforting circles. "The council is fighting among themselves," he explains. "Arguments, physical assaults – people are disappearing – and we have no idea as to why, or how."

"Are you saying there is a connection?" Isabelle asks, saying something for the first time since Alec woke up.

"Maybe," Magnus answers. "I'm going to look into it –"

"You could ask the council themselves," Jace said, sarcasm dripping in icy tendrils.

"Ha-ha." Magnus's sarcasm was just as thick and consuming as Jace's. "You know we're going to keep this a secret. We can't trust the council," Magnus said. "Not now."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Not ever," she said, taking another sip of her coffee.

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