06:Bellic
The wards around Magnus' building are down. Alec can't see, or even sense it, but Magnus is pissed enough to shout it for all pedestrians to hear. The mundanes on the street give him alarmed looks and wide berth, a woman with glasses hurriedly ushering her daughter away from the Crazy Man. Magnus doesn't pay them any mind. He storms up the stairs- the front door burst open with a simple spell- eyes blazing and knuckles cracking. Alec hurries after him, a dark voice at the back of his mind insisting they might not want to go up there and find the burglar. When Alec sees the Inquisitor along with his mother and sister crowding the hallway before Magnus' door, he figures he should've listened.
Izzy appears by Alec's side without asound, her shoulder instantly pressed against his, trying to support his weight. "I'm alright," he tells her, before she asks.
Her hand grips his palm- painfully tight- and she whispers, "You better be," with relief in her stare.
"So good of you to join us," the Inquisitor's face suggests she's anything but pleased with the prospect. Her cool eyes look past Alec- his existence unimportant- searching for something behind both Lightwood siblings before they latch onto Magnus, pinning him in place with a single, cold glare. "Where's Morgenstern's spawn, Downworlder?"
Magnus tilts his chin up, an eyebrow raised, staring her down his nose. "With Lucian."
The Inquisitor takes a step forward, but the height difference between her and Magnus is vast enough to diminish the intimidation she was so obviously counting on. Her eyes narrow and she barks, "Liar."
Magnus laughs, soft and controlled. He doesn't say anything in response. They all know it might cost him his head. The silence is broken by his mother's terse, "Alexander," which says anything she might've wanted to express and nothing Alec can make something of. Alec leans in closer to Izzy, his eyes tentatively seeking his mother's.
"Tell me Isabelle misunderstood the situation," Maryse says when their eyes meet, her stare demanding and cold. Alec leans further against his sister. His throat is suddenly very dry.
"What situation?"
Even the Inquisitor turns, her interest piqued.
Maryse rolls her eyes, "Don't be difficult, Alec. Have you or haven't you angered the Seelie Court's Queen?"
"Yes," Alec offers reluctantly, "but-"
"Has she or hasn't she cursed you?"
Alec sighs. "Yes, but-"
"Are you turning human?" she demands, he voice like a cord worn thin.
"Yes," Alec replies, and decides not to bother further.
"Splendid," Maryse exhales sharply through the nose, nostrils flaring alongside with her anger. The cord is severed. "What are you planning to do about it?"
"There's a potion," he offers. Maryse huffs impatiently and he continues, words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush, "it's slowing the process."
"Is there a cure?" she demands, he eyes shifting between Alec and Magnus. Izzy tightens her grip on Alec's hand.
"Most likely," Magnus answers for him, his tone like a door slamming. "Is occupying the hall primary? I'd rather like my apartment back- it has my cat and make-up. I'm rather fond of both," he grumbles and adds, "Release my welcome mat, if you please," staring pointedly at Maryse, who does not budge, dark leather boots firmly planted on the plush, orange mat.
The Inquisitor squares her shoulders, her back as straight as if her spine were a metal rod. She blocks the door bodily. Her voice is a low hiss- quiet and dangerous- "Where is the boy."
It's not a question.
Magnus' voice is tight, his anger caged, when he says, "I haven't the faintest."
"I don't believe you," the Inquisitor sneers.
"So you don't."
The tension is palpable. "He'll turn up," all heads turn at Alec's sudden interruption. Izzy whispers what're you doing? her eyes wide and darting between Alec and the Inquisitor. Alec continues regardless, "He'll beat someone up and you'll have a report with his name all over it."
"Why would he-" the Inquisitor starts, but Alec cuts her off without entirely meaning to. Her face contorts, the desire to sever his vocal cords and sew his mouth shut apparent over her face.
"He got pissed off at something-" Alec doesn't let any of them ask what, "- and stormed off. He'll get into a brawl in the next twenty-four hours."
Maryse huffs but doesn't argue, doesn't ask. The Inquisitor looks as if she had been forced to eat a spoonful of salt. She turns on Magnus, ignoring Alec again. "You've let him loose. He was your responsibility, Bane, and you've let him-"
"I didn't let him do anything. I was preoccupied and he ran off," Magnus snaps.
"Preoccupied." The Inquisitor's eye flash. "Doing what, exactly? Applying nail-polish?"
Magnus' smile is razor sharp, twisted with malice. "Tending to your precious, little Shadowhunters."
The Inquisitor's keen eyes focus on Alec's bandaged neck, brief and assessing, there and gone again. She snarls, "He's not a Shadowhunter anymore."
Maryse looks ready to throttle her. "He's my son," she says just as Izzy growls, "He's my brother."
"You thought the other one was, too," the Inquisitor shoots back at Maryse. "And now your real son has cost us our only connection to Valentine."
"I want my apartment back," Magnus says, stepping within a few inches of the Inquisitor's face, his expression plainly reading, And I want you gone.
"I want Valentine dead," the Inquisitor replies with venom. "I guess neither of us gets what they want."
"What do you want from me?" Magnus asks, although he must know the answer. The Inquisitor smirks, sure the question is a surrender. In a way, it is.
"Track Jonathan Morgenstern," she says. "Tell me where he is."
"Like hell he will-" Izzy starts incredulously. The Inquisitor's head snaps towards her and the rest of the sentence dies in Izzy's throat- a painful, untimely death.
"He will," the Inquisitor assures her, eyes narrowed. Izzy doesn't try to pound her to the ground, doesn't even protest- just stands there, small and quiet behind Alec's wide shoulders.
"And if I refuse?"
"Magnus Bane," the Inquisitor wraps her tongue around the name, spitting it out with as if not pleased with the taste of the syllables. "Do I really have to tell you what happens if you do?" she's sure of her own victory, face hard like marble, eyes like splinters of diamond- light and unforgiving.
Magnus angles his face down and says, voice clear and strong, "Look in Pandemonium." Taking hold of both Alec and Isabelle's hands he opens the door to his apartment without touching the handle- a single word uttered and the heavy, wooden door opens mutely. The three of them step inside, Maryse quickly making it past the threshold before the door slams back shut, obscuring the cruel smile slowly spreading across the Inquisitor's face.
The Inquisitor's steps fade away slowly, Magnus' grip on the Lightwood siblings easing with each one. When they can no longer hear her, Maryse turns to Magnus and says, calmly enough, "You lied to the Inquisitor," as though she's impressed.
Magnus cocks an eyebrow. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"I know my son," Maryse tells him, lips pulled down, waiting to be contradicted. "When he's upset he goes to sulk in some bar where he can break someone's nose-" and other bones that strike his fancy. "He doesn't go clubbing."
"There are girls in Pandemonium who'll kick his ass if he looks at them the wrong way," Magnus says with a smirk.
Maryse's lips tug up slightly, but her eyes remain cool. She nods, accepting the covert admission, and turns to Alec; her face softens a fraction. "How are you feeling?"
"I've been worse." Maryse nods and steps closer, her hand reaching to touch the faded runes on his throat. Alec lets her.
"How many did you lose?" she asks softly.
"A quarter," he answers honestly. Maryse seems shocked. She turns an accusatory glare towards Magnus.
"Fix this," she demands, as if he didn't try.
"I'm trying," Magnus tells her, his voice clipped and guarded, all traces of a smile gone. "It's not that easy."
"For God's sake, you're the High Warlock of Brooklyn!" his mother exclaims, throwing her hands in the air in clear exasperation. "What good are you if you can't fix a little curse?"
"It's not little," Magnus counters. "It's some of Eirlys' best work."
"I'll pay you," Maryse says as if she didn't hear a word Magnus' has said, as if she's found an angle that'll defiantly let her in. "Whatever you want, we can get it." Her eyes are feverish, but her resolve doesn't shatter. "You will heal my son." It's almost a request.
"I'm trying," Magnus repeats. It's almost a promise.
"You aren't trying hard enough!"
"He is." His mother's head snaps towards him like a whip, her eyes wide. Alec holds her gaze steady and repeats, slowly, "He's trying."
Maryse's shoulders slump in defeat. She looks tired and worn, wisps of her hair loose about her face, her clothes not as crisp as he's used to see them. She must have just returned from Idris.
A faint sound filters, breaking the pregnant silence. It's a soft melody Alec doesn't recognize, and a female voice singing- something about whining- from Magnus' back pocket. He stifles a groan, fishing his phone out, mouthing 'Clary' before answering with a stern, "Honey, this better be good."
Izzy's snickers are cut short by her own phone beeping. Maryse's phone goes off next, thankfully with the automatic ringtone it originally came with. She looks at the screen, surprised. "Yes, Lucian, hello," she greets, turning her back and taking a few steps towards the kitchen, seeking privacy but mostly looking for somewhere to run to.
"No, Alec's here-" Magnus says, pacing. Alec's eyes shift nervously towards his mother, hoping she hasn't heard the familiar way with which Magnus has just addressed him. "Yes, but- listen, no, he's somewhere off the bay. Yeah, he stopped chasing him after a while. It's better you don't go where he- no, but-"
"Jace just texted me," Izzy informs him and shoves her phone into Alec's hand. Alec can't help but feel a bit hurt that he's not the one to hear from Jace. He shoves the thought away and looks at the small screen of the phone. The message reads: Valentine's got his army ready. I'm heading towards the boat.
"What does it mean?" he asks. Izzy looks alarmed, her eyes dark, face ashen, mouth a thin, tight line. It must be bad.
"Valentine is hiding in a boat on the river. Jace said he's got bazillion demons ready to strike."
"And he's going there?" Alec's voice is rising. "Is he stupid?"
"Apparently." They exchange looks of measured concern. Measured, because anything else might lead to panic. "We should go." She looks at him and amends, "I mean- I should go."
Alec's stomach turns. "Call him," he pleads. "Talk to him."
"If he had half a mind to talk to me, he'd have called himself." Alec knows this. It doesn't stop him from wishing it wasn't so. Izzy looks sorry, sorry for him. Alec turns away from her, eyes fixed on Magnus- the only spot of color in the room.
"Shit," Magnus grumbles, voice grave. It makes Alec's skin crawl. "We'll be there. By the docks, call me when you get there." He hangs up, stabbing the red button on his phone with one perfectly manicured finger. He growls in frustration and throws it onto the sofa with too much force. It slides off to the carpet, scaring Chairman Meow. "This day," he says to the room at large, eyes rolled heavenward, his tone exhausted, "is as bad as Ping's sack dress."
Before Alec can ask what the hell does that mean and what did Clary even say, his mother is back in the living room. "Lucian said one of his pack and a vampire have been kidnapped by Valentine," She says. Magnus slumps a bit. Izzy stiffens.
"Clary said the same."
"Jace texted me," Izzy adds quietly. "He's heading to the boat."
"My battery's out," Alec mutters, but no one pays him any mind.
"We should go, as well," Maryse says. "If it is war Valentine wants, we shall oblige."
"Call all the Shadowhunters you know are close by," Magnus tells her. "We should need all the soldiers we can get." Maryse nods, her phone flying to her ear again.
"I'll do that too," Izzy quips and walks after her mother to the kitchen, casting none too subtle looks in Alec's direction.
"I want to come, too," Alec says before Magnus can tell him he can't.
"You'll get killed," Magnus retorts solemnly, his hand reaching for the dragontear on Alec's chest, pressing it closer. Alec can feel the Magnus' warmth radiating through the thin material of his shirt. He takes a step closer almost on instinct.
"Most everyone probably will, what with the amount of demons Valentine has on board."
"I don't want you to die."
"I don't want you to, either," Alec's voice gets lower, his eyes darting towards the kitchen anxiously, "but you're still going. I want to go too."
"You're not going," Magnus' eyes darken, something like broken glass beneath the surface of his stare and voice. Alec lifts his chin, his jaw set and eyes narrowed.
"You can't stop me," he says.
"You have to take the potion at eight and thirteen minutes," Magnus tells him instead of arguing. "You can come with us and lose all your marks if you want to, instead."
Alec's heart sinks. "What do you mean? I'll just drink it earlier."
"It doesn't work that way, darling," Magnus tone is gentle, but there's stubbornness behind his eyes, the knowledge this is important and he's not about to lose, because if he does- it's Alec who dies. "There's a regime for a reason. If you don't follow it, it won't work anymore."
"What-" the words barely make it out of his mouth in a hoarse whisper, struggling to get past his lips. The lump in his throat stops him from speaking further. He has to go.
Magnus sighs and takes a careful step closer, the distance between them still big enough to be easily explained should Maryse enter. "The potion builds magic inside you. Regular portions enable it to contain and withhold the curse at bay. If the regime set is disrupted-" His hands find Alec's shoulders. "It won't slow it down anymore, but hasten it. You'll have half the time you'd normally expect without the potion."
Alec drops his gaze to the floor and murmurs, "How long?"
"Two weeks."
Alec makes a voice at the back of his throat in acknowledgement.
Magnus shakes him gently. "We'll be fine," he says, but Alec finds it hard to believe. "Stay here and take the potion in time. That's your top priority right now." He drops his hands as soon as Maryse comes back into the room. She eyes them, her face void of expression, and doesn't say anything regarding their proximity.
"Malik said to meet him at the bay," she says instead. Izzy appears behind her and adds, "Leila and the Jerseys are coming too."
"Good," Magnus says, but doesn't seem awfully pleased. He turns to Maryse fully and asks, "Do you know a Shadowhunter who can't fight but will be around to donate some blood?" She opens her mouth to ask but he cuts her off with, "It's for Alec-" there's a barely noticeable pause before he amends, "-xander's potion." Alec smiles. It sounds awfully like Alec Zander.
Maryse nods. "Ralf Auttenberg."
"Do you know where he is?"
She nods again. "Blue Moon on Adam's Street, he's always there drinking."
Magnus turns to Alec. "Go there before Santiago arrives. Don't take too long though; the blood has to be relatively fresh."
Alec nods weakly. Magnus' hand makes it halfway to his shoulder before he realizes what he's about to do. He drops his hand and says, "We'll be fine," instead. Alec manages a soft, broken laugh.
"Right."
Izzy's hand comes to squeeze his. "Really, we will," she says with a brave smile that might even be genuine, if a tad forced. Her eyes are burning. It puts a smile on his face.
"Be careful," he tells them all before they leave; it doesn't seem as though they've heard him. The shutting door leaves the apartment eerily quiet. He looks around and doesn't know what to do besides fidget and worry himself sick. He does that for an hour, his mind reinventing a hundred ways in which the battle he was forbidden from joining could end- none of them good. The ticking of the clock is maddening, but not nearly distracting enough to keep Alec's mind from wondering; he imagines Izzy under a Drevak, Jace mauled by an Oni, his mother surrounded with Mares, his father crashed under a Yokai horde, Magnus devoured by Ahi and blood. Their blood, red and slick all over the deck, dripping into the water until it's crimson.
The clock tells him it's too early to head out to meet Ralf.
Ralf.
Alec's never met him, but heard quite enough of the tales surrounding his character to feel like he has. Ralf Auttenberg: known less for his mastery with a longsword than his ability to hold uncanny amounts of whiskey. He had a wife once, a tiny blond thing no one's ever seen but Ralf's been keen enough to show a picture of to anyone after a beer or ten. She's been a mundane and died in a car accident, three months into her pregnancy. Ralf quit hunting afterwards, his career taking a sharp turn towards the nearest bar. He lives above one, now.
Alec's never met him, but he can't help to think it a little sad he has given everything up- everything he was and is- no matter how great the loss.
There's a growing black spot in the sky outside the window- somewhere over the river.
Alec looks at the clock again. Half an hour. Still too early.
It doesn't matter; he doesn't want to give up just because he has lost something precious to him.
Alec finds his backpack back in the guestroom, and he empties it of clothes and books- anything that'll weigh him down. He throws out the three Seraph blades Izzy lent him with the asinine hope he'll be able to use them. The stele he keeps, although it's not too useful either. When the bag is empty, he's struck with the realization he has no idea what to fill it with. He settles for bandages and antiseptic. He prepares holy water with a small, golden cross he finds in one of Magnus' many jewelry boxes, filling a couple of bottles with the clear, purified liquid. He takes his bow, soaks the heads of his arrows in the holy water and grabs a sword, hung on one of the walls above the bookshelves. When he grabs his gear and puts the black armor on- it feels heavy and wrong against his skin.
It's close to sundown and it's been nearly two hours. Alec tries not to think whether he'll make it on time. He leaves the apartment, the potion and the dragontear necklace behind, rushing towards 116th as fast as his now partially-human legs would let him.
He makes it there before the sun has set, so he waits outside, not too keen on sneaking in and getting attacked by a grumpy vampire. The first vampire to crawl out of the hotel is a woman in her forties, her hair as dark as her eyes. She eyes him closely and sniffs.
"Shadowhunter." Alec nods sheepishly. Her eyes narrow and her lips pull to show shiny, sharp fangs. "What do you want?"
"Is Raphael home?"
She looks thrown at the casual use of her leader's name. Alec tries not to fidget under the dark glower overcoming her otherwise gentle features.
"Who wants to know?" she asks suspiciously.
"Alexander Lightwood."
She takes a step back, startled. She ducks her head and mumbles, "I'll get him," before hastily backing into the dingy lair. She doesn't come back, but Raphael is out a few minutes later, dressed in white.
"I didn't know you talked about me," Alec says as if in greeting.
Raphael smiles. It doesn't seem half as dangerous as it should be. Alec takes a careful step back when Raphael tries to get closer. "I don't think it's a good idea," Alec gestures at the space between them. "Last time I-"
Raphael's fangs poke through his lips. "I didn't mind last time," he purrs, but doesn't move again. "Why are you here, blue-eyes? It's not time yet."
"I want one of your bikes."
Raphael laughs, loud and hearty, not at all like a blood-sucking monster.
"You truly are connected to the Morgenstern boy, aren't you?"
"He's my parabatai." Anger flares in Alec's eyes and his voice comes out grating, defensive. Raphael's laugh dies down sharply.
"He asked a bike of me two nights ago," he explains.
"I need it for the same purpose."
"To chase after Valentine?" Raphael's smile twists. "You must be mad."
Alec shrugs. It's probably true. Raphael stands there, considering. "You won't be able to ride it," he says eventually and doesn't ask about the potion. Alec appreciates that.
He grins. "That's why I have you."
"I thought you said this-" Raphael repeats Alec's feeble gesture, indicating the large gap between their bodies. "Wasn't a good idea."
"It isn't."
Raphael's grin spreads slowly, all of his teeth showing, a white glim in the gradually darkening alley. He's on Alec in a flash, dragging him inside the hotel by the hand. Vampires let them pass without question, casting wry looks at the odd newcomer. Alec ignores them all, staring at his feet as they move from room to room and climb up stairs to the roof.
The roof is the color of tar, flat and endless, perfectly even and empty. Raphael tugs his hand, heading determinedly to the left corner of the roof. Raphael looks at him expectantly. Alec gives him a baffled look in return.
"These," Raphael point to a shimmering patch of air. "Are the bikes." Alec blinks and tries to look more closely. The air doesn't morph into shiny motorcycles so he quits trying pretty quickly.
"I can't see past the glamour."
Raphael sighs. "Veo." He mounts the air, sitting comfortably on a vehicle Alec can't see, looking truly ridiculous. He gestures for Alec to sit behind him. Stepping closer, Alec extends a hesitant hand, blindly groping until he can feel the leather of the seat beneath his fanned fingers. Carefully, he sits, bumping his knee on the bike in the process and almost toppling them both. Raphael laughs at him, but doesn't comment, just murmurs, "Hold on tight," before taking off towards the river.
The air gets colder the higher they get. Somewhere below the clouds but above the tallest city buildings- a wind blows, incessant and strong. It tugs at Alec's clothes and hair, chilling him through his coat and sweater. He is cold even where his chest is flushed to Raphael's back, his lips slowly turning blue and his eyes stinging.
They make it to the river fairly quickly, the water dark beneath them. Raphael directs the motorcycle lower until they almost touch the river, water spraying the soles of their shoes. It would've been fun if Alec hadn't seen the boat ahead- a massive, dark shape, like a pillar connecting the gathering, dark clouds above it to the boiling, nightmarish waters beneath. The closer they get, the colder the air becomes. It's magic, he knows, like the effects of Magnus' portal, only ten times stronger and evil. It sucks all the warmth away like a leech.
Raphael speeds towards the boat, heading higher again. They stop a safe distance away, far enough to escape the patrolling flying demons' notice.
"Are you sure you want to go there?" Raphael asks him over the sound of the wind. Alec looks down at the boat and sees black shapes moving, demons and Shadowhunters and blood mixed together in a nightmare that's far too vivid. He nods, his chin pressing against Raphael's shoulder.
"Yes."
Raphael turns his head slightly and they share a glance. He nods and the bike roars under them, surging forward. When the first demon sees them and takes offence at their presence, it tries to knock them off the bike bodily. Raphael drops them ten feet in the air to avoid getting killed, but they almost crash into another one about halfway down. The demons screech and scream, their beaks sharp, eyes shining, black like oil, fading in and out of Alec's partially human vision. A whole flock of them -murderous skeletal birds of prey- surrounds them momentarily. Alec leans back, tightening his hold on the bike, thighs pressed close to the leather seat, and prepares his bow to the center of the fading image of the horde. The first arrow strikes and a demon falls with a fiendish howl to the waters bellow. A second and a third follow.
"What are you doing?" Raphael whispers, panicked, when the birds tighten their circle around them. "You can't kill them all!"
"You're right," Alec takes out another demon to his left. "Hey! Monsters," he calls, sliding further away from Raphael on the bike, carefully moving until both his legs are on the same side. "Watch this!" he aims at one of the larger demons right before him, releasing the arrow and sliding off the bike almost simultaneously. He can only hope the demons will follow him and let Raphael be.
They do.
The fall is shorter than he had anticipated and far more painful upon impact than he'd hoped. One of the demons throws him off course, slamming into him because he's falling too fast for it to even attempt catching him with its claws. It softens his fall- if only slightly. Alec hits the deck rolling- too close to the edge with barely enough time to grab a stray rope to hang on to before he plunders headfirst into the murky river. The rope tears the skin on the palm of his hand until he bleeds. It slickens his hold, and he slips a few inches down as a result. It's not far enough down to prevent him from climbing back up.
As soon as he swings a leg over to the deck, something bites him beneath the knee, dragging him up and over. Alec can't resist a groan of pain. He doesn't thrash though, keeps as still as he can because dead prey is not as fun to play with. The demon shakes him but lets go when he stays limp and silent. It growls its displeasure with the impassive catch. Alec risks a glance as it moves away and sees a mountain of black, coarse fur, bone-white spikes protruding from its back all along its spine.
Alec gets up, wobbling on one foot, careful as not to make a sound, and unsheathes the borrowed sword. The steel gleams. Swiftly, he aims the sword at the demon's back, jumping back when blood sprouts from the new open wound. The demon roars and turns toward him, its face a mess of dark matter and too many eyes, too many teeth and one long, forked tongue. It leaps forwards, snarling, its claws a hair breadth away from beheading Alec. He dives to the side and tries to cut it again, somewhere near the ribs. The spikes come hurling toward him from the demon's back, the tip black with poison, before the sword connects. He narrowly avoids getting hit, dropping down and under the demon. Without thinking, he sticks the sword into its soft belly. The demon screams and tries to get away. It's not fast enough. Alec moves the blade from navel to sternum-only stopping when he meets the resistance of bone. Warm blood sprays his face and intestines begin to pool all around him, sticking to his form before he moves away. The demon howls, thrashing in its death throes, before it stills and turns to dust. It's only then that Alec realizes he has killed six demons in the span of fifteen minutes. He expects to feel different, more like Jace maybe, or his father- but all he feels is hollow. Indifferent. As if it doesn't matter. It scares him a bit, because it should.
Alec spares a glance to the sword. It glows beneath the coverage of blood, its light pale and warm, not entirely unlike a seraph blade. The blade is curved and wide, the hilt a heavy piece of carved wood, the overall shape more similar to that of a cane than that of a deadly weapon. He doesn't get to examine it too closely because another demon tackles him- a great, green Oni with three eyes and a snout like a pig's. Alec whirls around and beheads it with one smooth motion. The monster falls to the ground, another quickly coming to replace it.
Alec doesn't know how long he fights and fends them off. He's lost count sometime after the twentieth, a vicious, horned snake he barely managed to kill. Darkness claims the ship upon evening's arrival and the demons become a black, fanged mess he can't see or fight. They flicker in and out of his vision, even the slower ones easily escaping his now blind swinging. He moves without thinking, waving the sword three-hundred and sixty degrees until it hits, cuts, kills. His strength is quickly waning, though, and the demons are too strong and too many for any actual hope.
But he hopes, hopes and prays as another demon screams and falls. He hopes someone lives to tell of the battle.
A claw gets Alec square in the stomach- a gash deep enough to bleed profusely but a bit too high to hit his kidney. He stumbles on something lying just a step behind his current footing and falls to the ground with no time for a yelp of surprise. He lands on a body, twisted and broken, bleeding from a large hole in the chest. It's a man, tall and dark-haired.
Alec's heart stops before he has the chance to glance at the face. In a moment of irrational fear, a single word overwhelms his mind: Magnus.
Please don't let it be Magnus.
He sees the face. It's Malik.
Alec doesn't feel anything, only the faint traces of something he can't quite place as pity. He doesn't have enough time to sort through his feelings and find the appropriate ones to replace the sudden, flooding relief because the air steers on his left. A demon springs at him, a smeared shape with something like a horn aimed straight at him. Alec doesn't have enough time to dodge.
A faint whisper filters through the paralyzing fear consuming Alec's mind, slowly growing into a fierce hiss. Blue fire erupts right before his nose, shielding him from the demon. When the monster connects with the flames- the momentum of its jump too great to stop- it screams, broken and wild. The fire cries its victory like a serpent, growing stronger and taller around Alec's prone form. The demons back away. Alec moves back as far as he can, scrambling to his feet and running away from the flame and the monsters towards the luminous spot of pink beckoning him through the darkness.
Magnus doesn't seem happy to see him. Arm still stretched out, sparks and heavy silver rings about his splayed fingers, he looks exhausted and furious. His eyes stop Alec dead in his tracks. "What the hell are you doing here?" Magnus demands, feral and vicious like the fire he wields.
You're alive.
The air about them doesn't move, still like the words stuck in Alec's throat, stale like the excuses Magnus probably thinks he has. Alec straightens his posture and lifts his chin, his mouth in a tight straight line, voice calm as he says, "It's my fight, too."
Magnus' fingers curls like claws, the magic crackling about him thrown like a cannon ball to the vicinity of Alec's right side. A demon howls and falls on the floor, silent. "You didn't drink your potion," The warlock states, voice and face suddenly cold.
"No."
Magnus takes a step closer; fire flares where he once stood, moving slowly, like a snake, like his mood, to create a circle around the two of them. The demons stay out. "And you came here."
"Yes."
Magnus' face morphs, the taut skin stretched across his bones reshaping into a ferocious snarl, animalistic and ruthless, brittle like the season and tearing at the seams. "I never thought your stupidity would impair your sense of self preservation."
Alec refuses to let the words hurt him, stab his heart and stomp on the remains. "I had to be here."
Magnus growls. "You had to do just one thing," he barks. "You had to stay put. You had to take the damn potion. You didn't have to come here." He takes another step. The cold, energy-drained air between them heats up. "In fact, you shouldn't have come. I specifically told you not to."
Alec grits his teeth and snaps back, "What, I should have let you all die?"
Magnus' eyes narrow in response. "Because you were doing such a splendid job of it back there," he jerks his head towards the first demon his fire saved Alec from. "Are you suicidal or just dense?"
"I," Alec makes sure to pause, each word escorted by a brief silence. "Can take care of myself."
Magnus snorts. Alec closes the remaining distance between them in three angry strides. He grabs a handful of Magnus' obnoxious shirt and leather coat, yanking until they're roughly the same height. "Shut up," he snaps.
Magnus' hands land on his shoulders and shove him away. "Was it that hard to understand?" Magnus drawls, voice tightening around his anger. "'Don't come here, there're too many fucking demons and you're human' wasn't clear enough for you?"
"It's not about that," Alec tries to keep his voice under control, fists clenched and muscles tense. Magnus sneers. "Everyone I know is on this ship. I can't be somewhere else."
"Why not? Why not-"
"Because we'll all probably die tonight," Alec's voice is soft, overridden with the chaos around them. Magnus' eyes widen and he stills. "I want to be here if it happens. I want to fight and die like everyone else, even if I die faster."
"You choose duty over your own life?"
"It's not duty, Magnus," Alec growls. "It's who I am. I'm one of them. If I can't fight as a Shadowhunter, I want to die as one."
"So living's not an option anymore?" Magnus' voice is subdued, his stance even more rigid than before. Emotion flickers in his bright eyes. Alec hopes it might be understanding, acceptance.
"They're my family," Alec says simply. It's all there is too it. "I want to protect them."
Magnus' eyes scan their surroundings before settling stubbornly on Alec's. He doesn't say a word.
"We don't have time for this," Alec insists, a bit apologetic. "Look around you."
"It's a nice circle," Magnus declares without much heat, staring at the flames. His voice is small, not entirely defensive; it lacks the dangerous edge. "Perfect shape."
"How long can you hold it up?" Alec asks instead of arguing the moot point.
"Two, maybe three minutes before I pass out and the wards around the ship come back up."
"And that'll be bad."
"Me passing out? Certainly," Magnus almost smiles. The tension slowly seeps out of his body. Without it to hold him tall and angry, he looks much smaller and so very tired. "It's the only thing allowing us to fight on the boat."
"Put it out," Alec says and moves to press his back against Magnus' own, the sword held tight in his hand. The heat against it back is immensely comforting. "We can keep them off for a while if we keep like this."
A scream interrupts Magnus' forthcoming reply, and suddenly, his response doesn't even matter. The sound is terribly familiar and it strikes a chord within Alec's heart. He sets off running, following the impulse and the voice: "Izzy!"
He moves past the fire but it doesn't burn. He wouldn't care much even if it did. He can see Izzy up ahead, sprawled on the floor beneath a monster ten times her size, all the sharp teeth and claws customary to a Fouke. There's a pool of blood beneath her head, and she's not moving.
Suddenly, the demon is flung aside, faint sparks of a spell fading where it once stood, looming over Alec's sister. With a brief glance over his shoulder, he sees Magnus right behind him, his face ashen and more exhausted than it had been a few minutes ago. When they reach Izzy, Alec skids on the blood, her blood, and lands on hands and knees by her right side.
"Iz, God, are you alright?" Alec whispers, words barely coming out; he knows there won't be any response by the paleness of Izzy's skin, by the warmth and extent of the spilled blood. He doesn't know what to do besides sit there, shaking, pulling his sister's head into his lap, murmurings soft comforts in her ear.
A hand, heavy and warm, lands on Alec's shoulder. He whirls around, finds Magnus' eyes and croaks, "Do something."
Magnus crouches by him, his expensive designer jeans soaking in red, reaching out to Izzy's forehead with two fingers. His touch spreads light from her forehead all the way down to her neck, beneath her gear, all over her skin. Her body heats up rapidly. With a sudden pop and a bright flash of white, the light and the heat are gone. Color gradually returns to Izzy's cheeks. Alec's fingers automatically fumble to find her pulse. It's steady.
"Thank you," Alec mumbles, suddenly tired, his shoulders slumped. His hands stroke Izzy's hair, carefully avoiding the injury at the back of her head. "God, thank you."
"I've never been called that before," Magnus laughs shakily, leaning heavily against Alec's side, pressed so close Alec can feel each breath. "I'm going to pass out in a minute." He tells him. "If I end up dead, I'm gonna kill you."
Alec nods. "You can trust me."
He won't let them die.
Magnus smiles softly against Alec's neck. "I know." But his breath is shallow, slowing. "I do." Magnus leans in closer, his chin settling on Alec's shoulder, digging into his flesh, his head a heavy weigh. True to his word, Magnus is out like a light before Alec thinks of a response.
Alec has on hand in Izzy's hair. His other finds a possessive lodge around Magnus' waist.
The boat creaks. A demon growls in the distance. Something black moves in the periphery of Alec's vision, about to lunge. The floor breaks beneath the monster before it springs. The whole boat moans, as if in pain, metal screaming and floorboards groaning as the wood splinters. There's a terrible sound, piercing and curt, and Alec has precisely three seconds to duck a torn metal rope flying his way. He somehow manages. The whole ship is rocking below him, coming apart slowly, one screw at a time. It tilts sharply, and someone shouts; a scream and the sound of a body hitting water.
People are falling off the ship.
Shadowhunters drowning.
They have to get out of there, fast.
A/N: Have you seen the cast talking to the fans? aren't they adorable?
Spanish fixed thanks to KairacahraFlower Goddess!
Excerpt from the next chapter: "Magnus sighs and snuggles closer. Their breath quickly syncs, in and out, I'm alive and I'm here, I love you. They fall asleep together- a tangle of limbs and forgotten injuries. Just holding on, tight and tighter, because letting go is no longer an option."