Summary: It's time to let go.
Magnus sat silently next to Alexander's bedside, his right arm around Maggie and his left hand holding tightly to Alexander's.
For hours after Lydia left Magnsu sat there and said nothing, what could he say, Alexander was dying, his soul was fading from his body, the SIlent Brother said it was too late to call him back, all that was left to do was say goodbye.
Max, Isabelle, and Jace had been by to say their farewells and make their own apologies, Lydia having already said hers, she'd come by to drop off supplies for Maggie, not even attempting to take the litte girl from him and telling him not to bother with teh Downworld meeting, she'd called Catarina.
The machine that marked Alexander's breathing and heartrate spiked like he was trying to wake up but couldn't.
Magnus stood and conjured a crib for Maggie, laying the sleepy girl in it and covering her with her favorite blanket, blue with stars on it.
Without thinking too much about it Magnus crawled into Alexander's bed with him moving him carefully so he could hold him gently, his fingers intertwining with Alexander's.
"You can let go, Alexander." Magnus whispered into the younger man's hair, "You did it, Jace and Isabelle can love and marry whoever they want, the Clave has become less prejudiced against Downworlders, some Downworders are even patrolling with Shadowhunters in order to help against Demons and rogue Downworlders. Everything is going to be just fine, we're going to be just fine. You don't have to take care of us anymore." Magnus cleared his throat even as tears wet Alexander's hair as he rested his cheek on it, "You can rest now, let, go, it's going to be fine. It's going to be fine." Magnus' voice cracked as the heart monitor flatlined as Alexander finally let go. "I love you." Magnus whispered into the silent room, the long beep fading into the background as Magnus held onto Alexander's cooling body tightly burying his face into Alexander's hair as he cried.
It was hours later that Lydia was able to pull Magnus away, days before they lit Alexander's funeral pyre, the first to be held outside of the Institute and at night so that the Downworlders that Alec had touched and helped could attend his funeral, and the only one to be intured as a statue and not in the City of Bones, the statue guarded the entrance to the Institute.
Magnus had charmed the winged Statue's outstreatched hands so that when a person touched one of them their intent was read, if they meant any one in the Institute harm they would be denied entrance, if their intentions were pure they were allowed to pass.
It became good luck for Shadowhunters to touch Statue Alexander's hands as they passed out of the Institute, it became almost a guarentee that one would return safe and sound if they had and on the way into the Institute as a thank you for protecting them when they were away from home.
But Shadowhunters were not the only ones to believe in the Angel of the Institute, Downworlders whispered of seeing a Blacke haired angel with a Deflect Rune along his throat guiding young Warlocks to a loft apartment where the High Warlock of Brooklyn lived with his Goddaughter, or walking with newly turned Werewolves on their first full moon, or taking the hands of frightened Vampires and leading them to Raphael Santiago's clan or even taking Seelies back to their Realm's safety.
And Magnus Bane would often find said Angel perched on his balcony where they would sit and Magnus would conjure dinner and they would curl up together and sleep the dawn away until a little Nephilim by name of Magna Lightwood-Bane would bounce on them to wake them, demanding pancakes.
A/N: That happyish ending came out of nowhere, this was just going to be sad all the way through when I started it.