Chapter nine: Weapon

Alec had awoken with a start, sweat beading on his forehead and drenching his back. Despite the not-so-slight ache that racked through his body, he had gotten up quickly and let his feet fall to the floor in pace. All in all, he felt like crap – but he forced his body to move, anyway. Whether it was lazily or sloppily, it didn't matter. He just had to move.

Alec was breathing heavily by the time he had gotten to the door, and opened it – which, in turn, made him nearly fall when he collided into his boyfriend.

"Magnus!" Alec shouted this, surprised. He had stumbled back, but managed to hold his heels onto the floor.

"Alec?" Magnus looked surprised. He grabbed him by the shoulders. "You look like you just ran a marathon." It was then Alec had told him about his dream.

Magnus looked calm the whole time, though he did raise an eyebrow or two. Specifically at Sebastian – the one "person" that wasn't supposed to be alive - the one "person" who wasn't supposed to be bothering them in any shape or form, at least not anymore. But the thing that surprised Magnus the most was Alec. That Sebastian needed Alec, of all the people.

"So that's why," Magnus said. They were sitting down on their bed, the thunder rocking the house in its new wave of terror. White flashes ricocheted through their hallways and lit up the shadows in the crevices of their faces with ease. "The only thing we need to know is how to stop him."

Alec watched as the fists of rain pounded on his window. "Yeah," he said. He silently wondered if Sebastian was out there, watching him.

Magnus eyed him sympathetically. "Hey," he said. He gave Alec's cheek a playful pat. "I'm working on it. I promise."

Alec shifted uncomfortably and got off the bed, crouching under it. He was going to check his weapons. He wanted to check them, to make sure they were at the ready – that if someone or something attacked, he would be ready. He reached under the bed and pulled out his faded blue duffel bag, which seemed to now be way too light – way too light to carry all those weapons, even including his bow. He unzipped it quickly, and found an unpleasant surprise.

Magnus got up from the bed. "I can explain, Alec—"

"Where are my blades? Where in the hell is my bow?" Alec fished through the duffel bag with one of his hands, but found nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"After you attacked Jace, we made a decision to hold onto them for a while." Magnus was pulling him up now, seemingly trying to make him understand.

Alec flinched at the word attack. "Demons are attacking me left and right, Magnus!" He knew he could have been overreacting, but at the moment, he didn't really care. Magnus needed to understand. "Now I don't have anything to—" He suddenly stopped, mid-sentence.

Alec walked passed a bewildered Magnus, right towards the drawer where he kept his own steele. Almost right after he had opened it, his eyes had narrowed. "Even my steele? Why?" He slammed the drawer shut and sat down on the bed besides. He put his head in his hands.

It wasn't until moments later Magnus had sat next to him. He put his hand on his back, rubbing the usually relaxing circles; but they weren't in anyway relaxing now, and instead drove Alec insane. "I'm sorry… I really am." When Alec didn't respond, he went on. "I love you, and I don't want anything to happen to you."

Alec contemplated on either verbally replying, giving him the silent treatment, kissing and/or punching him in the face. He took the simpler (and much more neutral) approach. Silence.

Magnus spoke again. "Please don't hate me. We had to do it."

"You said it wasn't me."

Magnus stopped tracing circles on Alec's back. "What?"

"You said it wasn't me. That I didn't attack Jace."

"It wasn't you. But if… whoever decides to control your actions again, it could cost someone's life." Magnus put an arm around Alec's shoulders and brought him closer. "I don't want to do this, Alec. I really don't. But sometimes you have to learn to be the one protected, rather than be the one protecting."

Alec was covered in sweat. The blackened bags that hung in half-moons under his eyes seemed to be much, much thicker than usual. His hair stood up in multiple angles – like always – looking a bit greasy and wet. The black strands stuck onto his forehead and cheeks.

At the moment, Alec knew he must've looked like the most unappealing boyfriend Magnus could ever have. But he was still there, holding him close. Speaking to him. Telling him he loved him – saying he wanted to protect him.

He surrendered. "Okay," Alec said. He took his head out of his hands and placed them in his lap. He played with them as Magnus chattered more; mostly talking about what they were going to do after they would leave Idris. He had spoken about them going to travel to Europe, Asia, Greece – seeing places Alec had never seen, ones Alec had never even heard or dreamed of.

"And you're going to gain weight," Magnus said, pinching Alec's cheek. He laughed. "You're the cutest thing. I swear." Magnus brushed the wet strands out of Alec's eyes. "You need some more sleep. C'mon."

It wasn't until Alec drifted asleep Magnus realized Alec's neck was red. As he looked closer, he realized they were marks. Marks of dingy fingers.

Isabelle held onto her golden whip almost too tightly - to the point of it actually cutting into her hand. She watched the entrance of the Seelie court. Its waters spun violently that day, seemingly concentrating into one area of the pond. Like a whirlpool, waiting and wishing to drag them all in.

The female warlock had also given it the once over. Her cropped blonde hair even swayed – though not nearly as much as Isabelle's long hair – and her cloak rode the wind. Even though she was small, she looked dangerous. Almost chilling. "We're going in," she said. "Now."

"Gemma," Isabelle said, reluctantly. They had only met a couple days before, but Isabelle felt like she knew her well enough to call her by her first name. "Are you sure? Look at it." Everything was dark, as if a storm were rolling in. The waves seemed to look stronger by the second. The sky even looked a bit green; as if the blue had decided to disappear one day.

"I know – it's a shithole. But," Gemma paused and brought up one hand. Pink, almost gooey looking sparks shone in it; making her grass-green eyes glow in what seemed like defiance. "I have this… you have your whip. As long as we've got our weapons, we'll be fine."

"Why is the weather as bad here as it is in Idris?"

Gemma shrugged. "Coincidence. There is no magic in weather," she thought about it for a moment. "Unless it's someone's mood affecting it."

Isabelle knew why; Clary had told her. Last year, after the battle with Valentine, the Seelie Queen had asked her for a favor. "Is she at war with her sister?"

"The Unseelie court?" She laughed. "Probably." She let the goo-like sparks in her hand fall. "C'mon, Isabelle. We've got a mission here."

Isabelle watched as Gemma walked towards the edge of the pond. Just before she could let out a protest, the small warlock's feet fell into the waters. They seemed to glow, even in the lake's newfound murky colors.

"Alright…" Isabelle said, more to herself than anyone else. She also let her feet fall into the water. But, unlike Gemma, she didn't walk. She fell. She fell and spun into the depths of the water.

Author's Note: Yeah… I'm kind of late. You can hit me with bricks now. *braces herself*