Title: The New York City Angels
Summary: They'd always thought Idris was home. Every Shadowhunter did. Only as they watched their home destroyed in front of them did they realize that they'd been home all along. T for language mostly.
Notes: SO! EVERYONE! ATTENTION! I added a few things to the previous chapter, since it seemed more like it should go with that one. Go read it again, and then come back here. Ok, so I owe this wonderful continued plot to my darling - AverageDreamer. Sweetheart, you're amazing! She helped me through my plot problems and has been a consistent and sweet reader. Thank you hon!
By the way... if you haven't seen this video that had the link posted in another popular Malec story, then here it is! ht tp:/ /www. youtube. com/ watch?v = c3QHwMICJ38 I hope it'll work for you, and if not, search ADOMMY: PARALYZER at YouTube - so hot! I swear, those boys are just... *swoon*
Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to, I haven't written the Mortal Instruments series. Cassie Clare owns that sexy warlock and that adorable Shadowhunter with the clear blue eyes. *sigh*
The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the blanket, canary yellow and smelling of Magnus. The warmth he usually felt was gone, though, disappeared. Alec groaned. He wasn't able to forget: not when he was awake, and not even when he was asleep.
When he was awake, he would hear that voice, spitting the words at him with venom in his voice.
And you, I think we all know what's wrong with you.
You're disgusting.
They shouldn't let your kind in the Clave.
See you in Hell, Lightwood.
When he was asleep, he'd see that face looking at him, malice, mocking, and disgust in his eyes.
He didn't want to sleep, but he didn't want to stay awake, either. He felt like he already was in Hell, and he was seeing Jonathan everywhere. A flash of fair hair would send a tremor through his body, and the sight of pale skin in a crowd would send him into hyperventilation. He didn't feel safe anywhere except for the apartment, but the apartment held so many memories for him that hurt to think about.
Alec hated him so much, but what he hated even more that it was all he could think about. He only ever saw Jonathan while he slept, fueling the cold sweat and quick breathing that followed the nightmares instead of the dreams he had that centered around Magnus.
He was so frustrated, so pissed off at everything. He wasn't sure he would be able to put up any kind of facade like he had the previous night with Jace. He just didn't have it in him anymore.
A soft meow came right next to his ear, and a rough tongue started going over his forehead. Chairman Meow jumped and glared at Alec when he swatted at him, and decided to curl up around his arm, just to prove who mattered more.
Alec thought he didn't find anything funny anymore, but he found that he was wrong as a smile broke out across his face and he started laughing. His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears and he felt terrible, but he laughed anyway.
The cat looked at him with what seemed to be a grin, and purred as if he'd planned the whole thing, just to get a laugh out of the boy.
Later, Alec followed Chairman out of the bedroom to the kitchen, where the cat stood by the empty food bowl and looked up at him, as if asking, Well? Aren't you going to feed me? Get to it, human.
When he poured the food from the bag into the cat's bowl, the feline bolted for it, nearly biting Alec's hand in his hurry to eat.
Alec noticed that the cat was taking Magnus's absence relatively well.
He also noticed that this was a cat, and that he probably wouldn't be bothered as long as he still got food and love.
As he watched the feline eat, his mind wandered. He knew that it was his fault that Magnus was gone. It was true that Jonathan hated Downworlders as a whole, but he specifically hated the Lightwoods, Clary, and anyone that knew a Downworlder, much less anyone that dated them. He knew that if it wasn't for him, Magnus would be just fine. Right now, if he'd never met Alec, he would probably be picking his outfit for the day, doing his makeup, maybe even accepting clients already.
But then he thought about where he'd be – still pining over Jace, still hiding his dirty little secret, keeping the closet door locked as his disdain for Clary grew into hate as the two grew closer to each other. Magnus had done so much for him: encouraged him, given him someone to look up to, someone he could love who would love him in the same way.
And all Alec had done for Magnus was get him kidnapped by some half-demon psychopath hell bent on the destruction of Downworlders and the Shadowhunters that associated with them.
Everyone hated Jonathan. He was part of the reason Max was gone, the reason so many innocent people were dead, and he was the one who'd said… those things outside the Gard when Hodge was dying. Everyone there had been insulted, called disgusting, stupid, or something of that nature, and of course it would have an effect on them. But Jace and Clary had proved him wrong – they weren't brother and sister, it turned out. So the only one he'd actually struck home with permanently was Alec.
He knew that he shouldn't feel like Jonathan was right, because of course he wasn't. Magnus was gay a thousand times more than Alec was, and he was the furthest thing from disgusting. He was a bewitching, funny, wonderful person. But that comment stuck with Alec to the point where he'd started pulling back from Magnus, both in public and in private. Magnus eventually figured out what was eating him, and tried to reassure Alec, but a small part of him wondered if Jonathan had gotten something right for once.
The next few days passed in similar fashion. Alec would wake up, feed Chairman, and think. Clary, Jace, and Izzy came a few times, but they just made everything worse, more awkward. Clary stayed at Jace's side at all times, and Isabelle wouldn't let any kind of silence last for long, but talking didn't make it any better. He found that it got easier to think about Magnus if he just kept his emotions in check. He could still remember, could still think, but instead of feeling things, there was a hollowness in his stomach. It spoke of something wrong. He knew that his feelings were just going to build up and explode at some point, but he took the short-term gain instead.
A week after Magnus was taken, Alec was sticking to his normal routine. He was pouring cat food into Chairman's bowl and sifting through the same thoughts he'd been thinking the past few days. His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his reverie. He reached for it and opened the message.
Jace: Alec we need u to come to Clarys. Some 1 else went missing. Every1s freaking out. Theres a search party. They need u 2 help.
Alec wrinkled his nose at the last part. They didn't need or want him there, he knew, they just thought it would be a good way to get him out of the apartment.
Nevertheless, he dressed quickly, grabbing his jacket and boots before leaving.
The weather certainly matched his mood. The sky was thick with clouds so dark they looked purple and everything looked all the more dull because of it. Bright signs looked old and faded, completely uninviting. It looked like everything outside wasn't aware that there was such a thing as color. Even if it was bright and colorful, it wouldn't be to Alec. Not since the bright spot of color in his life disappeared.
Upon his arrival, Isabelle ran out of the house, dressed in gear with her golden whip encircling her whip. Her hair was streaming out behind her, like a thick black cape. She nearly tackled him in a hug.
"I'm so glad you're all right!" she exclaimed.
Alec pulled away and looked at her in feigned confusion. "What do you mean? Of course I'm all right."
Isabelle glared at him. "Bullshit. There's no possible way you're fine. I meant that you got here safely."
"I can take care of myself, Izzy."
"Don't be so sure of that," she told him. "First, he takes Magnus, and now Luke is gone. And in a matter of seconds, no less."
"What?"
She shook her head. "I'm still wrapping my head around it. Jace was there, he can tell you." She took his arm and steered him into the living room where Jace and Clary sat, with two empty seats across from them; Alec assumed they were for him and Izzy. He took a seat next to the redhead who turned and hugged him just as Isabelle had; only she didn't allow him to pull away. On the contrary, she held onto him with a grip like a vise, wetting Alec's shoulder with her tears. He didn't pull away, but he looked at everyone around him in confusion. What could have possibly gone so wrong that Clary was coming to hug him?
Jace shook his head, mouthing to Alec, Later.
What could be so bad that they couldn't talk about it then? It obviously had to do with Clary, as she was still crying in Alec's hug. He could only wonder what happened.
Later, after Isabelle pried Clary from Alec and took her to another room, he looked to Jace to finally get answers. He looked really bad: there were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was messed up – like he hadn't paid any attention to it rather than he just messed it up to look that way. His eyes were half lidded; he seemed barely able to keep them open. He hesitated, a very un-Jace move, and proceeded to tell his parabatai what had happened.
"Yesterday, Luke was on his way back to the bookstore with Maia. They were both going to work their shifts, and Maia was walking faster than Luke was. She turned a corner and stood and waited for Luke to come after her, and he didn't. When she went back around the corner, everyone was gone: there were no mundies, no Downworlders, and Luke was gone. It stank of demons. Maia checked all the alleys, the stores, she kept yelling for him, but he's missing."
There was a minute of silence. "Clary's certainly upset," Alec finally said, almost at a loss for words.
"Not just her, Alec," Jace told him. "Everyone's freaked out. Isabelle was frantic. She called Clary and me immediately when she heard from Simon. She tried to call you, but your phone must have been off, or I guess you were asleep. Jocelyn is just like you were after last week, and Maryse is by her side all the time now. Robert is helping to head the search parties because Jocelyn doesn't have the heart to. This is big. We know it's Morgenstern. He obviously has something planned, and we have no idea what it is. He could be doing anything right now, and we wouldn't know about it, goddamn it!" Jace punctuated his last few words by hitting the table.
Alec was silent, letting the new information sink in and allowing blinding rage to come with it.
All Shadowhunters were crazy when it came to Valentine – when he was still alive. Now his son was taking his place, assuming the role perfectly, though in some ways he was worse than Valentine. He didn't bother pretending that he had any kindness, any kind of good quality. He had no charm, and even if he did, he wouldn't use it anymore. There was no need. Everyone knew him for what he really was: an abomination, and a threat.
The Clave was united against a common enemy when it came to Valentine, and it would be the same with Jonathan.
Alec would rather have a split Clave with no enemy other than those they were meant to fight: the demons.
A hoarse scream reverberated through the room, as if the voice had screamed quite often in a short amount of time.
Jonathan Morgenstern pulled away from the crumpled figure on the ground with a grin, the seraph blade burning brightly in its hand despite its black color. Its edge was dripping with blood, a little too dark to be human blood, but too red to be that of a demon. He grabbed a cloth from the table beside him and wiped the blade, staining the white cloth a dark red.
The figure on the ground shivered as blood poured from a wound that criss-crossed several others on his back. The fresh blood stung the cuts it came in contact with, eliciting a sharp hiss of pain. Blue sparks danced at the edges of the wounds, but seemed unable to go any farther. Warlock magic couldn't heal wounds made by a seraph blade.
Jonathan turned on his heel, grabbing another needle from the set. His smile didn't falter as he stabbed the needle into the gash, soaking his hands and the cuffs of his sleeves with the blood still pouring from it. But the needle was quickly filled with the dark red substance and he pulled it back out, setting it by a few others that were already filled. The figure on the ground thrashed, the searing pain overcoming him almost to the point of unconsciousness.
"Now," Jonathan drawled, "Do you see? Isn't it so much better when you don't struggle?"
The figure still writhed on the ground, not responding.
The boy stood above him, still grinning. "Or not. It doesn't make a difference to me. You won't make it for much longer. Although, it's not like you'll be going anywhere."
A faint voice came from the figure on the ground. "Damn you," he whispered.
Jonathan laughed. "I may be damned for now, warlock, but I will soon come to my rightful state of glory. A new world is coming, Downworlder. And it's one you and your disgusting little Shadowhunter won't be living in."
A strangled cry came from the figure. It took a moment to realize it was the only laugh he could manage. "You call us disgusting, when you're so much worse than us. You're just like him. Just like your beloved father, and just like the demon he shares a name with."
Jonathan whipped around and delivered a swift kick into the figure's ribs. He groaned and curled in on himself once again. Jonathan's voice was grim as he spoke. "My father was a wonderful man, completely brilliant. He was insightful, and he knew what he was doing. Except he thought he was doing it for the good of humanity." He laughed. "This world would wither and die under the mundies and they wouldn't notice. They're the unworthy abominations. And for a thousand years, the Shadowhunters protected them."
He walked to the window at the other side of the room. "Well, that will go on no longer. There are higher beings that deserve to rule, more so than anyone. We will destroy the current order just as it was destroyed before. We will punish the hierarchy for what they have done unjustly. Non serviam, indeed." He paused for a moment, and spoke as if he were quoting the greatest of the great. The words mirrored those his father had once spoken, quoting from his own source. "How are thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!"
He snapped his fingers, and red flames flared up at the points of the pentagram drawn on the ground. A kneeling figure almost like a black silhouette with glowing eyes was seen through the flames. Its voice was deep as it asked, "What do you summon me for, my Lord Jonathan?"
"I believe I have the blood you need for now. Rise, Eidolon, and step out of the pentagram," he told the demon, his voice cold and authoritative.
The demon followed him to the table and after a nod from Jonathan, reached for the needles. "Oh, yes," he hissed, almost twirling the needle in his hand. "This will be sufficient for my task, my Lord. Do you know where to find the boy?"
Jonathan pointed to the figure on the ground. "That does. Search its memories. You have no need to be careful. He won't last for long anyway, and I don't need him for anything but his blood, which I can get even if he is brain dead."
The figure looked up, sweaty strips of hair falling from his face to reveal golden-green cat eyes filled with fear and pain as the Eidolon stepped towards him. The demon laid a hand upon his head, his hand black and almost formless, though it was recognizably a hand. A scream tore itself from the figure's throat as the Eidolon closed its glowing eyes.
"The symbol of the Morgensterns will no longer be a falling star. For we shall rise above all." Jonathan cast his gaze back to the window as he took in the scene from there, a cool smile curling his lips. "To our rightful place."
OOOOH CLIFFY!
Bookworm24601 - Thanks for the review! I know - Psych is quite amazing. I've followed it for a few years now, and it's all I watch anymore since Monk finished. I'm pretty sure I couldn't give this a sad ending, though there's going to be a lot of angst and sadness and tragedy and all that before it gets better.
StoryKitten - Thanks for the review! I'm glad you like. Btw, that signature you have - it's pretty awesome. I like it :)
AverageDreamer - He's depressed again! Our poor Alec will be swimming in a sea of depression and nearly drowning for most of the story - he was just putting up a front when it came to Jace. My school started back up again about two weeks ago, and I've still got Geometry and Physics to do. Needless to say, I don't wanna do it.
So - once again, total props to my wonderful FFN friend AverageDreamer - she's like, a total inspiration, so supportive, and a really sweet reader, helping to point out a few things that I haven't seen myself. Her story is pretty epic - it's regularly updated too. Go read it.
But could you review? Chairman's trying to overcome his tiny size, and wants more food. Reviews give him foods!
Review? It's that little blue button. Right down there. No, to the left a little. Nah, that's too far. THERE WE GO. Click it. :D