Will tapped his foot against the ottoman and his finger against his book. He looked up at the clock and then back down at his hands. He had allowed himself to be drawn away to talk to with the other Arrivals about what Alison might mean. Tessa and Jem had been sent home with everyone else. Tessa had squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek before she'd left and Jem had still been giddy and not said a proper goodbye at all. Now he was alone in the damned Institute again.
"Let's leave," a Scottish accent interrupted his thoughts by giving voice to them.
"Where would we go?" Will asked Alison. She'd spun a chair around and was sitting on it backwards and looking at him. She still wore the dangerous looking boots and a tight shirt. She'd also added a large amount of makeup. It was dramatic.
"Dancing," she said, "Dancing and drinking. Someplace loud. New York is - well, was - famous for its clubs but it can't have lost all of them in the last 30 years. Let's go get drunk."
The rational part of Will's mind told him to tell her no. Leaving to go find Jem and Tessa's apartment was ill-advised and leaving to go find a tavern was far worse. But the boredom, the loneliness, and the hammering feeling in his chest that wouldn't calm was louder than his rational mind.
"I don't know where anything is in this city," he said putting his book down.
"Fuck it, we'll figure it out. We'll take a cab. The cab will drop us someplace good," she said.
"What's it like meeting yourself?" Will asked.
"I became my mother. My mother is a respected and impressive shadowhunter I suppose I should be proud but I am not her. Never wanted to be her and yet there I am, being my mother," Alison said and she stood up and kicked the chair back into place, boot flashing. She grinned at him, "What's it like meeting your ex-Silent Brother parabatai and his weirdly friendly wife?"
"Strange. Good," Will said. So someone had noticed the hand holding and the kiss on the cheek and possibly other details that Will himself wasn't even conscious of. He wondered what counted as scandal in this day and age and whether they were approaching it.
"Well, I guess that makes you the lucky one," Alison said. She had led the way upstairs and she pushed open a door onto a room full of junk. Boxes and crates and things just tossed over odd pieces of furniture. Alison waved at it and explained, "The Lightwood kids left a bunch of their shit here when they moved out. You might be able to get into a club in that outfit since you are, in a word, very hot, but it's always better to dress the part."
Will looked into a box and found a pile of sweaters. Alison grabbed his arm and pulled him away, "No, no, no, which ever one that was had the style sense of a brick when he was a teen. Avoid that entire side. My guess is the one that managed to find himself a whole warlock family. He hasn't got any style now. He manages to look at that ridiculous warlock with the hair and the sparkles every day without running screaming. Definitely no style."
"Magnus may be the most powerful warlock you will ever meet," Will said. Magnus had had a bright green stripe running through his hair at the meeting that afternoon and Will had to admit that his fashion sense often ran to the ridiculous but Alison's disparaging little comments set his teeth on edge. Magnus was far more than a collection of strange hairstyles and the glitter.
"He's weird, darling, but they're all weird," Alison said. She was rummaging in a box and threw Will a black shirt that was even thinner than the clothing he was barely getting used to. She kept digging, ignoring his little comments until she'd given him a pile that she ordered him off to try on.
The pants were too tight, the shirt was too tight but the jacket fit surprisingly well. The boots he liked. They were heavy, they had a sort of careless elegance to them. Alison tilted her head to the side and slid her eyes over him in a gaze that wasn't quite comfortable but it was one he'd spent a long time learning to attract. Girls looked at him like that before he broke their hearts and offended their entire families. Most girls he had met were either shyer or more polite than Alison. She came over and untucked his shirt, getting far closer than he wanted her to be in order to do it. She undid a button and straightened the jacket for him.
"Close your eyes," she said and when Will frowned at her she said, "Looking the part matters, close your eyes. Be less boring than your Herondale counterparts in history."
"Are my Herondale counterparts boring?" Will asked doing what she said. She grabbed his chin so he couldn't recoil when she touched his eyes. He wasn't sure why he let himself lose the brief argument that ensued but he did, closing his eyes and letting her brush whatever she was brushing over them.
"Marcus Herondale is a bit of an dipshit and will follow any rule written down. If you wrote the words, "Rule 1, you must dance the funky chicken," and handed them to him, he would very seriously dance the funky chicken. His kid isn't as bad, he was a few years behind me at school. Blonde, friendly, everyone wants to bang him, one of those," she explained as he sat still and let her dress him up like a china doll. When she was done, she tugged on his jacket again and pushed his hair around a bit.
"Are you finished?" he asked, "And what does a funky chicken dance like?"
"About what you'd expect. It's a stupid dance for stupidly drunk people," she turned his face a little and his patience stretched a little thinner as she pronounced, "You're a little gother than I was shooting for but I think you'll make it work," then finally letting go of his chin.
"Now what?" he asked.
"Now we go get shitfaced with the mundies," she said with a laugh.
The Institute didn't have the staff to patrol the doors. There were magical deterrents but they were Shadowhunters and getting around it all was annoying but not difficult. Will felt a little guilty about it. The other Arrivals didn't have the same options that they did to just get up and go and there would be hell to pay if they were caught. Alison didn't seem to care quite as much and if he turned back at this point, she would go on without him and he had no idea how much trouble a drunk could get into in New York but he assumed it had to be at least as bad as in London where it could get you killed in the wrong part of town.
He sighed and pushed himself up to climb the side of the wall and follow her into the city.
Jem blinked at the ceiling. Tessa still lay curled up against his side and for a moment he wasn't quite sure what had woken him if it wasn't her tendency to wake up at ridiculously early hours. Then the phone rang again and he reached past her to grab it off the bedside table. She murmured and shifted in her sleep but didn't wake. He absently ran his hand over her hair while trying to figure out if the number on the screen was one that he had seen before.
"Hello?" he said before it could ring again and wake Tessa up.
"Jem?" said the voice on the other end and it took Jem a moment to place it. He had never heard it over a phone before but it didn't really matter. That fluttery happy feeling he had finally put to bed that afternoon woke up. It wasn't the unreasonable giddiness any more but it still made his heart rate jump.
"Will, why are you calling? Is something wrong?" Jem asked. He was sitting up now. Alert just in case something was wrong. His fingers still in Tessa's hair.
"I went with Alison to a," he paused, "Tavern. Night club. Loud thing. I didn't think she'd be safe alone."
"And something happened," Jem said.
"No. Well, nothing unexpected. She's boiled as an owl and I haven't a clue how to use the trains or purchase the tickets or get her home," Will said.
"How did you get a phone?" Jem asked.
"I borrowed one from a girl," Will said. There was a din of talking behind him but no music. He must have stepped outside.
"I will come find you. What is the name of the club?" Jem said and wrote it down when Will told him. Tessa was still asleep and he considered waking her but she hadn't been sleeping well and waking her seemed cruel. He was fairly certain he and Will could manage to drag one drunk girl back to the Institute without too much trouble. He dug out clothing that approximated what might be expected at a club with a name like the one that Will had given him and got dressed in the hall so he wouldn't wake Tessa.
Jem didn't use the front door. He hadn't brought a stele and he couldn't be bothered talking his way in though he might have been able to do it. Instead, he broke in through a back door using lock picking tricks that Will had taught him decades before. Inside was loud and crowded and it took him awhile to orient himself and get a sense of Will. Once he was close enough the parabatai bond allowed him to sort out where in the jumble of humanity Will was but it still took a long time to locate him.
He was a long dark shadow beside a table where Alison sat with some new friend she had made. They were drinking something straight out of the bottle and laughing loudly. Excepting his annoyed expression, Will looked like he belonged in that chaotic environment. He was dressed for it. Dark, tight jeans, a shirt that hugged the lines of his chest in a way that made Jem pause for a just a moment before he approached them. Someone, in a conversation that Jem deeply wished he had been able to witness, had managed to get eyeliner onto Will's face. It might have been ridiculous but as part of the entire dark, angry ensemble, it worked.
"What did she tell you when she put that on you?" Jem asked coming to stand with Will. He told himself he stood that close because he wanted to be heard over the music. He spoke into Will's ear. Will had watched his approach but hadn't moved as he'd crossed the floor to them.
"I haven't seen it," Will said, "Do I look absurd?"
"No," Jem said. "Not respectable but certainly not absurd."
"They say you used to be a Silent Brother!" Alison exploded into Jem's space and he stepped back from her. It put him even closer to Will.
"Good evening Alison," Jem said. "It's time to go home."
"Definitely a Silent Brother, no fun," she told him and then spun off into the crowd.
"This is a regular behaviour. She'll be back in a moment or two," Will told him. They still stood close and Jem felt a little thrill at the contact. The afternoon had taken touching Will from a comforting afterthought to a heart shaking thrill. Jem found himself chasing it. He kept waiting for Will to tell him to step back but it wasn't happening. That was a thrill as well.
"Do we attempt to drag her home or just let her dance herself out?" Jem asked.
"She seems happy enough," Will said and he was leaned into Jem's shoulder and Jem could feel each word against his ear as Will spoke, "Once I took her stele so she couldn't glamour the bartender into giving her the entire bottle of things that are stronger and more expensive than seems wise, she hasn't been hurting anyone."
"Let her dance then," Jem said. He hadn't been in a dance club in awhile and he settled himself just a little closer to Will and looked out over the lights and music and the fantastical fashion choices. He smiled and said, "Tessa doesn't like places like this much."
"I can see why," Will said.
"The fancier ones, with proper tables and music you can talk over, she likes those but these, just annoy her: too loud, too full, too many people bumping into you," Jem said.
"You don't agree," Will said. He kept searching the crowd to make sure he hadn't lost Alison but his body language had relaxed. He was less stressed just to have Jem nearby. That had always been true of Will but it hadn't always made Jem want to pull him in closer. Not a single one of his feelings for Will felt different and yet they brought out entirely different responses in him now. One kiss and his brain had gone sideways.
"I like places like this. They're the absolute opposite of the Silent City. They're messy and loud and human and the music is interesting," Jem said.
"Interesting," Will repeated a little bit skeptical. His eyes jumped back to make sure he hadn't lost Alison in the crowd.
"Stop worrying about everyone else for a moment. Close your eyes and just listen," Jem stepped out in front of Will and put a hand on either of his shoulders. Will's skeptical look deepened and then smoothed out as he closed his eyes. Jem slid his hands up to Will's neck and could feel the speed of his pulse against his palm. He smiled. He wasn't really listening to the music.
He looked around and then pulled Will off the wall. Will allowed himself to be drawn out into the crowd. He stayed close as he watched the crowd like he was waiting on an attack. It wasn't really chaos but Jem could remember having the same reaction the first time he'd been in a party like this. It had been one of Magnus's not a mundane one but that same disorientation he had felt was writ large on Will's face.
"It is just a party," Jem said. He was listening to the music now. Too loud and with a bass line that hammered and overpowered any hope of a melodic line. They wove through the crowd, not really dancing, just getting lost in the mass of people. Jem liked the feeling of being no one. Just one of the crowd. He wasn't the ex-Silent Brother. He wasn't the novelty to be treated with distance and too much respect or too much fear. When he was noticed in a place like this, it was never recognition.
And they were being noticed. Jem didn't so much catch the glances as he caught Will's reaction to the glances. Will noticed. Will noticed everything, he always had. It was a defense mechanism. A way to know who would need pushing away before they got too close. People looked at them. They were both so tall and between the runes on his cheeks and Will's eyeliner they weren't exactly nondescript. Jem suspected the attention would have been different if they hadn't moved together like they did.
Will touched him more as the crowd got thicker nearer the speakers and the center of the dance floor. Will flashed a smile at someone over Jem's shoulder and he looked back to see who was there. A girl with a mass of blonde curls and a very short, very purple dress came over and gave Jem a once over. She looked him up and down and then considered him in conjunction with Will.
"Gay? That's damn disappointing," she said.
"Thank you for the phone," Will told her.
"I let you use it in the hope that you'd take me home," she said.
"Do you need help getting home?" Will asked.
"Not what she meant," Jem said into Will's ear at the same time that the girl said, "I could use a ride."
"He's very taken and it's very complicated, you do not want to get mixed up in it all," Jem told her and he took the opportunity he didn't know he'd been waiting for to slide a hand up Will's back and step in a little closer. Will gave the girl another polite smile and Jem pulled him off into the crowd again. He had no interest in new friends, not at that moment.
Now that he was close, Will stayed close. Jem found himself smiling and getting wrapped up in the little ways that Will moved in an out of his personal space. It wasn't quite dancing but it was far closer than they had been before. Will flirted with touches before he made them. A brush of a hand before it settled on his shoulder. Breath on his face before Will's cheek touched his.
The crowd was still very much there but Jem wasn't aware of them anymore. He was aware of the music and the way the changing lights picked out different details on Will's face as they flashed from blue to green and then off through a technicolour whirlwind. He noticed when something outside pulled Will's attention but his didn't follow it because Will's shirt was undone just enough to give a glimpse of collarbone. He noticed the way Will smelled and the warmth of his skin. He didn't notice much else.
Then there was a crash.
It pulled everyone's attention, even Jem's.
Alison had climbed up onto the bar and dropped a bottle off of it. Will said something that Jem couldn't translate from the Welsh but was obviously swear words. The music didn't stop but people were looking. Without needing to say so, they crossed the crowd to collect her before she hurt someone or did something to hurt hersel. People yelled things at her and she matched each thing called out with a epithet of her own. Jem grabbed her hand and when she tried to yank away from him, he simply pulled her off the bar. She was drunk enough that her balance was compromised and it wasn't difficult. He didn't need to double check that Will was where he needed to be to catch her.
"It's time to go home," Jem said to her again. She just blinked at him, a little confused. It was as good a time as any to push her out of the club even if Jem would have preferred to leave her to her own devices a little longer so he could pull Will back out into the anonymous crush of strangers and the coloured lights and the near dancing.
Out in the cool night air, they coaxed Alison into the backseat of Jem's illegally parked car. Once she was secured behind the childproof locks, Will dropped himself into the passenger seat and stared up at the ceiling. Jem looked over at him.
"She doesn't remember this, isn't that weird?" Alison said from the back seat. "I talked to her and she doesn't remember it. She never came here. She never saw the light. It never happened to her. She never got drunk in a New York bar and spilled $400 worth of liquor on the floor. Thanks for, you know, pulling me out before I had to pay for that."
"Four hundred dollars?" Will laughed.
"That's what the bartender was hollering," Alison said and then she laughed and Jem heard her roll over so she lay across the back seat. Jem pulled out of the alley where he'd parked and out into the traffic. He hadn't had anything to drink but he was a little drunk off the energy of the crowd and this thing with Will. He didn't look across the car as he drove. It took all his attention to be sure that he was driving carefully. He didn't think about where he was going. He was already driving towards home not the Institute.
"The other you doesn't remember?" Will said.
"Nope," she singsonged, "It didn't happen. Does that mean I don't go back? I mean if I don't go back then she couldn't have had the tomorrow that I should be living. So maybe I go back and just forget everything and go back to living my life all normal like. Maybe that's what's gonna happen."
Jem glanced at Will who had retreated behind one of his emotionless masks for the conversation. Will caught him looking and switched to Mandarin to say, "If nothing else, I want to remember this."
"As do I," Jem said as he swung out onto the freeway to take the long way home down the empty highway just so that Will would suck in a breath as he picked up speed. Jem wanted to hold onto these moments. He wanted to build them up, adding new ones day by day until it went from an artistic stack of memories to foundation. He wanted to make lists of things to share with Will and have him there for every one. If he couldn't have that, he prayed that at least he'd be able to hold onto the little stack of memories.