11: Nest
The touch of the stele to his skin is painfully familiar in the best and worst way possible. Even though Jace's expert hands minimize the pain the marking process causes- Alec's skin still stings with each rune, his whole torso red with the newly applied marks. The stele glides like a needle, sure and precise, over to his arms. Jace tries to apply each rune where it had once been- but Alec can see the imperfections, the wrong angles and placing. He knows no one else would notice, though- not Izzy, not his mom- so he doesn't bother correcting anything.
"Are you coming back home?" Jace asks him as he starts on Agility near Alec's throat. Alec's eyes automatically shift to Magnus. Magnus cultivates a perfectly neutral façade. Alec tries to fish for some sign at the link at the back of his mind; he doesn't feel anything.
"Yes," Alec answers after a long pause. Magnus' expression doesn't change.
"Think you can hide this from Maryse?" Jace asks, hands still busy with the rune. Alec knows exactly what he means- the enormous ink mark all across his chest, far more vibrant and permanent than any of his fresh runes.
"I've been hiding things from her since Meredith Whitehill," Alec says in response. Jace gives him a look.
"What does Meredith have to do with you?"
"Meredith has to do with Aline, and Aline has a lot to do with hiding things from mom."
Jace takes a step back to stare at him. Even Magnus seems somewhat curious.
"It's not what you think," Alec says, eyes on Magnus' slowly spreading grin. He's uncertain what it is, exactly, that Magnus shouldn't think it is- but he can guess by the way his lips curl that he already did. "Meredith was Jace's first girlfriend. I was fourteen and mom kept pestering me about girls since Jace brought her to dinner-"
"-And promptly dumped her three days later," Jace feels compelled to add, an impish expression all over his face.
"You should've told that to mom," Alec grumbles, throwing an accusing glance at Jace. "She was all over my case for the following year."
Magnus' grin widens at Alec's grim expression. "Who's Aline?" he inquires, but his tone suggests he might have a pretty solid guess.
"Aline Penhallow. Maryse set them up at a Christmas party because the Lightwoods kept in touch with the Penhallows even after the whole Circle debacle," Jace offers before Alec formulates a response that won't cause a blow-up. "They dated for a really long time."
Magnus hikes an eyebrow, but a smile remains on his face. Magnus appears bemused more than anything, and as much as Alec studies his face he can't detect the signs of melodrama or jealousy. He's unsure how to define how he feels over Magnus' apparent nonchalance- relieved a little, disappointed a bit, confused a lot.
"We 'dated'," Alec lifts his arms to perform air quotes, "until Hodge finally decided it was affecting my grades and told my parents. I've been flanking Greek and History on purpose for three months before he finally took notice."
"I always knew you flanked on purpose," Jace tells the room at large, clearly pleased with his deductive skills.
"Yes," Alec snaps. "I had to do the all the tests twice because of you. Once right so you could copy it and once wrong so Hodge would fail me."
Magnus shakes his head at them, amused. "Was she the pretty Asian girl with the black hair?" he asks.
Alec and Jace blink at him and nod in unison. They don't need to ask before Magnus explains, "I saw her in your head, when we did Mens."
Jace's expression remains comically confused. Alec's clears. "So that's why you weren't jealous."
"You offend me," Magnus murmurs. "I have absolutely nothing to be jealous about." He lowers his voice and steps closer, reaching out for Alec's necklace. "I've been in your head, there's no one in your thoughts but me."
"Get a room," Jace grumbles.
"We have a room," Magnus throws over his shoulder. "You just happen to be in it."
Alec laughs. Jace rolls his eyes. Magnus mumbles softly – almost too quiet to hear- in Latin, before biting the pad of his thumb. Blood wells on the surface of his skin. He takes the dragontear and presses the small gem close to the wound, coloring it. There's a bright flash of light- sudden and brief. Magnus lets go of the necklace with a smile. "There," he says.
Jace gives a low wolf-whistle. "Neat."
Alec looks at the mirror on the opposite wall. The marking the Tethering has left on the side of his chest has disappeared- regular runes decorating his flesh in its stead. He runs his fingers along his ribs and feels the slightly singed edges of the mark beneath the glamour, beneath the runes. "How long will this last?" he asks Magnus as soon as he's done with inspecting the glamour's effect in the mirror.
"As long as you wear the necklace."
"So I can-" there's a lump in Alec's throat his voice can't get past. The words die in his mouth, barely a hoarse rasp making it past his lips.
Magnus nods. His voice is soft, almost a whisper, when he says, "You can go home."
x
The first and only one to greet Alec back home right at the door is Church. Jace tells him he's been sleeping by the entrance doors ever since the night at the Seelie Court, barely moving even when guests arrived, even when the door was nudged open right by his nose or snagged his tail. Jace says he's been waiting. Alec takes one look at the tangled, grey fur and tired, yellow eyes and believes. Church takes one look at Alec and lets out a single, soulful mewl.
It echoes.
Alec gives him a smile, true and so wide it aches. Church moves his tail once- counter clock wise- and skips away without a sound to follow.
"I guess he said 'welcome home'," Jace says, staring after the disappearing silhouette of a cat with a fond smile on his lips.
"I guess he did," Alec replies, finally breathing. The air in the Institute isn't any different than that of the street- if a tad damper. Yet it feels warmer, safe. It smells of ink and parchment, of old photographs and leather, of willow trees and French lullabies. The sound of his footsteps ricochets off the floors, thrown about like a blind gun shot, too loud and nonetheless insignificant. No one else comes down.
"Where's Iz?" Alec asks as they make their way upstairs. Alec takes two steps at a time. Jace beats him to the top with an unexpected burst of speed on the last four.
"Out grocery shopping," Jace shudders. "Said she'll make her special pasta for the occasion."
Alec pulls a face. "Think I can convince her to let me do the pasta?"
The front door bursts open. Alec can hear shuffling and scuffing before Izzy's voice calls out, "O' brother, where art thou?".
"It's wherefore and it means 'why'-" Alec leans against the railing of the last flight of stairs to call down to his sister. "-not 'where'."
There's a muffled thump as the groceries hit the floor. The echo of Izzy's heels precedes her approach. She flings herself on Alec as soon as he's in her line of vision, strangling him with all her might in a bear hug strong enough to crack his ribs. "God, I missed you, you pedant," she murmurs into his neck before pulling back. There's a huge smile plastered on her face. Alec grins right back.
They eat the pasta.
x
Maryse and Robert return three days later in the dead of the night. When Alec stumbles into the kitchen the next morning, he is surprised to see his mother prone over a pile of letters in the dim morning light of the dining hall, a cup of coffee and an empty plate by her side. She seems equally startled by his appearance in her kitchen.
"Alexander," she says, hesitantly, as if afraid her words would banish his existence like that of a ghost. "You're home."
"Yeah." Alec nods. The kitchen is colder than his room. He can feel goosebumps rising all along his arms. "A couple of days now."
Maryse frowns. "Are you cured?" she asks and looks at him like she would if he were inflicted with the demon pox and sneezing. He levels her stare and tries to banish the obvious discomfort twisting his features, the plain guilt at the need to lie in his eyes.
"Yeah," he confirms. A smile spreads on Maryse's face- fast and bright. She quickly abandons her perch on the heavy, wooden chair by the table and wraps her arms around Alec's neck. The embrace is chaste. Alec is too surprised to even attempt and hold on. His mother slips through his arms like water a few seconds later, a smile still on her face, now more reserved and polished; almost professional, trained to portray the exact amount of joy she deems appropriate. It's not much, but Alec reckons it's enough, more than.
"I'm glad," Maryse says, taking another step back. "Welcome back."
She turns back to her papers.
x
Hey, soul sister, ain't that- comes a soft, robotic sound from Jace's jacket pocket. The sound is muffled by the walls of the training room they're about to leave. Fishing out his phone, Jace takes a quick glance at the screen and turns a heated, dark glare in Izzy's direction. She lets out a howl of laughter, almost doubling over with the force of her amusement right on the matts.
"It's not funny," Jace mutters, stabbing the screen with his finger and sending the caller to voicemail.
"Clary?" Alec throws in a guess. Jace's eyes darken. He fiddles with his phone some, trying to change the ringtone Izzy has set without his permission.
"You're right," Izzy huffs in between chuckles. "It's hilarious."
Jace flips her off. She ignores him with a bright smile. "Why's she calling?"
"She wants to come to Idris," Jace practically growls, fingers still tapping in new settings on the screen.
"That's no reason to look as if you've seen a Shax victim," Alec reasons. He bends, snatching the large water bottle on the old table by the door before Jace takes it and throws it at Izzy's head. Jace is too busy with his phone to notice. Alec takes the opportunity to steer him towards the exit.
Jace sighs. His phone gives a shrill, loud beep before he finally pockets it. "I don't want her to come," Jace clarifies. Alec and Izzy follow him out of the training room and into the small hall connecting it to the rest of the floor and their own privet chambers.
Izzy's eyebrows rise. "Why?"
They round a corner and enter a larger hall with three doors on the left and one on the right. Alec turns and leans against the single, isolated door with a frown. His eyes follow Jace's own grimace with some interest.
"I just don't," Jace bites out after a short silence, turning to his own door- farthest on the right.
"You don't have to talk to us about it," Alec calls to him before he slams the door of his room shut. "But you should talk to her."
Jace turns around to look at him, one foot already past the doorframe. His expression is unreadable, but the quirk of his lips- teasing, somewhat smug- is familiar. "Thanks for the advice," he says. Alec has no idea if he's being sarcastic. "But I already did."
The door shuts close soundlessly, but even the muted click sends an unpleasant shiver up Alec's spine. He turns his gaze to look at his sister and they share a moment of quiet apprehension. They can feel it coming, a storm- dark, unavoidable, strong enough to wreck and lift what they all thought was firmly attached and unmovable.
"You think he's alright?" Izzy asks, voice hushed. She throws another worried glance at the spot Jace only just left, as if still seeing his ghost.
"No." Alec takes another sidelong look at the closed door before turning away. "And he's not going to be as long as he feels that way."
Izzy nods. "He's not gonna give her up, though," and Alec knows that, too. Knows, and for the first time since Clarissa Fray appeared before his eyes, understand. "No matter how much it hurts."
Alec sighs. "No," he agrees. "And she won't let him, either."
Izzy's eyes show reluctant acceptance. "Star crossed lovers," she murmurs, a wry smile on her face, too weak to reach her eyes- not even headed there. "Only it's not nearly as romantic as Danes and DiCaprio made it appear." She smiles at the confused expression on Alec's face. "It's a movie," she explains. "Wanna watch?"
He doesn't, to be honest. He wants to sleep, to breathe in home and being back, being a Shadowhunter again. He wants to not think about complications, or Jace or the fact he hasn't done anything fun with his sister in months, that he hasn't seen her face or that brand-new gingerly hopeful look on her face for weeks. He nods with a tentative grin. "Just give me some time to shower and change," he tells her.
Izzy beams at him.
Alec takes off the black, heavy leather gear as soon as the door to his room shuts behind him, discarding items as he goes. The door opens with a thin creaking sound just as he throws his soaked shirt on the floor by the bed, a towel already in his hand. He turns around to see Maryse, a small velvet box in her hands. She steps into the room with a cautious, "Alexander."
It's so very tempting to respond with 'Mother', give a grave nod, maybe lower his voice sotto voce as to appear more formal- like she is. He settles for a neutral expression and a curt, "I was just about to hit the showers." He wonders if he sounds as dismissive as he thinks he does.
Maryse pays his words no mind. She steps out of the shadows cast by the dark curtains on the opposite window and promptly drops the velvet box as soon as she lays her eyes on him.
"What?" Alec inquires, uneasiness settling like a snake in his stomach, twisting inside him. He turns his head around, looking for demons, an eerie shadow, an alien presence. There's nothing, just a wall and a window. "Mom?" he tries again, but Maryse doesn't respond, doesn't move. Her eyes widen as minutes tick by, trained on Alec's rigid form. "Mom?" she doesn't respond. "Mom, what's wrong?" Alec takes a step forward. Maryse quickly steps back, flinching- as if in fear- her hands flying forward like a catcher intent on winning the season.
"What's that?" she finally demands, her voice wavering, finger pointed at Alec but arms slightly lower. Alec has never heard her voice as frightened as it is now. Dread slithers up his spine.
"I don't know what you are talking about," he tells her, confused and scared. He takes another step towards her. She backs away.
"That!" she snaps, now accusing. "What's that?"
Alec begins shaking his head, but his eyes catch his own reflection on the mirror by the closet. The air held in his lungs escapes him with a loud whoosh, like the first time he's been punched straight in the gut. This time it hurts much worse.
The mark- plain and black against his pale skin, foreign, clearly not a rune- is all too visible. It looks like a bruise- a shadow tattooed into flesh. Alec's hand shoots up to grab his necklace almost instinctively. It's not there. His eyes dart to the heap of discarded clothing and there, in the dim light, he sees a glimmer of silver.
Alec's hand falls back to his side. He can't help fisting it, pressing his nails against the skin of his palms until it breaks and bleeds. He keeps pushing. It barely stings.
Maryse stares at the large symbol on Alec's torso with fright and repulsion Alec had ever only seen on her face once- when she caught Izzy making out with a werewolf boy. Her eyes look the same now- dark, wild, but mostly horrified.
Alec swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He tries racking his brain for an excuse or a story his mother might buy as truth but comes up blank.
"Don't tell me it's not what I think," Maryse warns before he can.
"I don't know what you think," Alec offers tentatively.
"The mark of a demon bond," Maryse replies. Her eyes harden. "Why do you have it?" her expression gives Alec the impression he better not deny the mark is exactly what she thinks it is. He never thought of trying.
"To counter the curse," Alec murmurs reluctantly. "I had a Fey Mark before, this mark broke it."
Maryse seems stunned- either from the information itself or the casual way Alec has delivered it. His tone doesn't calm her. "A Fey Mark?" she whispers, almost to herself. "Why didn't you tell me? The Clave could've-"
"The Clave would have done nothing," Alec cuts her off. Maryse's mouth remains gaping slightly at his boldness, maybe even at his words. Maybe at the fact he knows this when he shouldn't- when all he was taught was that the Clave guards its own. Maybe because she's never thought he'd grow up enough to see through the lie. Maybe because she never noticed he did. "They won't hurt the Court's Queen and I'm not important enough to risk the Fey folk's anger."
Maryse's lips thin in anger. "You should have told me," she insists. She doesn't deny his words.
"I handled it," Alec shrugs, but the motion is too mechanical. Practically compulsory.
Maryse directs a glare towards the dark mark on Alec's skin. He holds in the urge to cross his arms and hide it. "You didn't," she says simply, eyes narrowed. "Who did this to you?"
"No one 'did this to me'-" Alec argues. Maryse snorts.
"Someone obviously did," she counters, her jaw set. "Last I talked to you of the matter you said there would be a cure, that you can break it-"
"-the bond broke it," Alec insists.
Maryse lifts her eyes, furious. "Don't be stupid," she reprimands. It's apparent she believes he was, perhaps always. "You've just brought a bigger problem on yourself!" she doesn't let her voice rise to a shout, but comes as close to screaming as Maryse Lightwood ever does. Alec bites down a scathing response. Maryse isn't pleased with his silence. Her stance shifts subtly, almost as if she's about to pounce. "Who did this to you?" she asks again.
Alec grits his teeth. "This bond broke the Fey Mark the Seelie Queen had on me. I'm not turning human anymore- I can sustain marks, and see demons, and use a stele." He puts one hand on the mark and murmurs, "It's not a bad mark, mom."
Maryse lets out a small, drawn out hiss. "You obviously know nothing," she snaps. "This mark is demonic. Do you have any idea how the Clave will react when it finds out?"
Alec stiffens. "That's what worries you?" her face cools considerably. He should've known. "What the Clave thinks?"
"Alec," his mother starts, her tone sharp as a paper-cut. "We can't risk the Clave shunning us out again, we can't risk-"
"You're gonna tell them?"
Maryse stills. The curtains aren't closed properly; there's a single beam of light illuminating half of his mother's face- enhancing the shadows, cloaking her expression until he can only guess its meaning. There's no point in guessing, though. He already knows the answer. Knows because she's silent and grim, because she talks and looks like the Clave dictates a proper Shadowhunter should. She always has, ever since the exile.
Alec wonders how long he has.
There's a small sound- like an inhale, only choked- before Maryse rasps out, "You don't understand." And he doesn't. Doesn't even want to. "I saw this mark once, years ago, on a mundane who married a warlock. She didn't even know what it meant-" Maryse's face twists. Her tone is placating. "-she said she loved him, that they can be together forever. She died a few minutes after saying she thought it was 'romantic'."
"Did you kill her?" Alec asks, numbly.
Maryse shakes her head. "It was a raid," she explains, detached, emotionless. It sounds like a report. "We held her hostage to lure the Downworlder. One of us got tired of waiting, said her screams might help Alistair make up his mind."
Alec recoils. He takes a few steps on unsteady legs before tripping over his discarded gear and landing on his bed. Alistair. The same man Magnus mentioned when they were visiting Phelon. His mother's eyes narrow at his reaction. "She was just a mundane," Maryse offers, almost in consolation. Alec stares at her.
"You let them kill her?"
Maryse shakes her head again and gives him an exasperated look. She doesn't have to tell him he's a child, he doesn't understand yet- it's written all over her face. Alec feels immensely tired inside.
"Are you gonna let them kill me as well?" there's no heat in his voice and no emotion on his face. Just detachment- cold and impenetrable, unreachable. Thin darkness surrounds his heart, protecting it and keeping the memories at bay, the hope away. Brief flashes of lullabies and archery lessons, of Sunday mornings when he was little and she was free are brutally pushed under ice, get coated and coerced into serenity. He gives Maryse a resolute, even stare. She doesn't answer right away.
"I have to tell the Clave," she relents finally.
"No," Alec eyes her with cool disdain. "You don't."
She lowers her head and steps back until shadows engulf her. In the dark, her eyes glint. "You don't understand," she tells him.
"I do," Alec says, as perfectly collected as a glued vase once broken, twice stomped. "I've done this to save my marks, to become a Shadowhunter again- to protect Jace and Iz and Max-"
"You can't be a Shadowhunter if you share your soul with a Downworlder!" Maryse's exclamation leaves Alec's ears ringing.
"Downworlders are not demons."
"They aren't any better." There's fire- vicious and out of control, so very far from it- in his mother's eyes. "It's in their blood, Alec- it's not something they choose but it's something they are." And she seems so convinced, completely genuine. As if her words make sense, as if they don't make her sick to the stomach and red with rage. "They're half monsters, and who's to say half a monster's any less dangerous?"
Alec's hands curl into fists, nails digging into old wounds. Blood warms his palms again. "No one's a monster because they were born one way or another," he growls, low and menacing. His mother's eyes widen incredulously at his behavior. "Jace is not a monster because Valentine's his father and Magnus is not a demon just because his father was one."
Maryse's expression shifts, emotions flying but not settling on her face. Surprise, at first, then disbelief and outrage. Finally, a shadow tinted dark with loathing and fear takes over and twists her mouth into an ugly, vicious sneer. Alec can barely recognize her. She looks so savage, so angry and betrayed. She looks so broken. "Magnus Bane did this?" her voice booms. "He marked you?"
Alec remains silent, almost stubbornly so, but his fists tighten. Maryse stares at him. Red stains her cheeks like a blood splatter, particularly violent. Alec doesn't move. In the stretching silence, her voice, though a whisper, rings clear: "Get out."
x
He leaves the house thirty minutes later with a duffle bag and three siblings and a cat trailing behind him on the stairs.
"You don't have to leave," Izzy mumbles, her face still sheet-white and shell-shocked.
"It's her house," Alec says without turning his head.
Jace snorts. "It's an Institute, it belongs to all Shadowhunters."
"Mom doesn't consider me a Shadowhunter anymore. As soon as she rats me out- the Clave won't either."
Izzy lets out a little gasp at his phrasing. Jace stills. Alec keeps on walking until Max asks, "Why?"
Alec turns around, slowly. His hand tightens around the worn strap of his bag. He looks his little brother straight in the eye and says, "Because she wants to save face."
Max looks confused, both at the answer and at the fact Alec's suddenly forced to leave. The rest appear somber, almost grieving. They hug him, each in turn- fierce and desperate- reluctant to let him go but to stubborn to leave without bloodshed. They'll fight in his stead, he knows, and they'll lose as badly as he did. He doesn't try to stop them. Lightwoods never listen.
So he gives them a smile, Church a pat, and leaves.
The way away from home is a blur of sounds, strangers and sickening hollowness. There's white noise in his head and something wrong with his stomach and eyes- the former hurts, the latter sting. Alec takes out his phone as soon as he's out of the subway, dialing from memory.
Luke answers after five rings.
"Hello?"
"It's Alexander," Alec says. "Lightwood," he adds after a thoughtful silence.
Luke's voice is bemused when he says, "I figured." Alec imagines him smiling- a lopsided, toothy grin he's seen a couple of times directed at Clary. "It's about the apartment?"
"Is there one?"
There's rustling on the other side, probably the sound of the phone moving against skin as Luke nods. "With the amount of money this ring can garnish in the black-market you can buy a house."
Alec rounds a corner and walks past a bus station and a coffee shop. The environment, though familiar, makes him uneasy. His eyes dart around, latching onto shadows and sudden movement in search of threats or imminent danger. The mundanes around him become a haze of alien features and unfamiliar voices. "What do you mean 'can'? I thought you sold it already."
There's rustling again. "I didn't."
"Why?"
"It's a family relic." Luke sounds almost apologetic. "I know how much it means to Shadowhunters. I hated losing mine."
"I'm not part of a family anymore," Alec tells him. He makes sure to keep his voice level and unaffected. "Mom kicked me out."
Luke makes a little sound of surprise, somewhat like a huff. "What?"
Alec's not in the mood for sharing. "Long story," he says instead. "I need someplace to stay."
"What about-"
"No," Alec cuts Luke off before he completes the sentence. "It's not his problem."
"Alec-"
"I said no."
Luke's mouth shuts with an audible click. "137 Reade Street, apartment 4D." His voice is resigned and a little sad, as if he never wanted it to come to this. Alec ignores it. "It's near a small market place. I trust you can open the door without a key?"
"No one lives there."
It's not a question.
Alec gets the feeling Luke's smiling at him again. "I wouldn't tell you to break in otherwise."
Alec rounds another corner and heads for the subway again, now with a destination in mind. "If you're not selling the ring, how am I going to pay rent?"
He can find a job, probably, but it will take time- time he might not have. If his mother tells the Clave everything before Jace gets the chance to get his part of the family inheritance- a few heirlooms, antiques maybe- from the cell room, then he'll be left with nothing more than his wallet until he gets his ring back.
"It belonged to a friend- so there's no need for that." Alec refrains from asking what happened to the 'friend'. Hopefully, nothing too dire. "I thought of moving some of the pack members there for a while- but it's way too small for that many people. Especially if 'people' is a synonym for 'werewolves with claustrophobia'."
"Werewolves get claustrophobic?" Alec asks. His voice gets swallowed by a passing motorcycle. He doesn't care enough for the answer to repeat the question. Luke falls silent. They end the conversation soon after.
The trip to Reade Street is short and uneventful. Alec gets out on Chambers and walks, almost automatically, until he's in front of house number one-hundred and thirty-seven. It's a solid, four story unit of red bricks and ordinary windows- none of them curtained. He enters and goes up to the fourth floor. The stele rests comfortably in his hand as he makes his way to the door. He performs an 'open' rune easily, confidently; the stele doesn't resist his touch, just glides smoothly over the wooden surface.
The door opens with a slight screech.
The apartment is a standard two-bedroom, sparse in furnishing but more comfortable than he expected it to be. The scuffed floors and light walls give out an aura of warmth. There's even a rug.
It could use curtains, though.
x
Two hours later Alec has already gotten in groceries, somehow managed to clean a bit and unpack the duffle. It takes Magnus about the same amount of time to come knocking on Alec's door.
Alec's more than surprised to see him when he opens it. "What are you doing here?" he asks, a knife and a carrot in his hand. Magnus gives him a look.
"I could ask you the same question," Magnus says, pushing past Alec and into the apartment. He looks around for a quiet, brief moment and mumbles, "Cozy."
Alec snorts. He goes back to the kitchen to complete the salad. Magnus follows, but keeps his distance. It takes Alec a moment to come up with a neutral expression- one that doesn't say 'I hoped you wouldn't find out about this'. Magnus seems more confused than angry, his eyes tinted with guilt; Alec's too choked to talk, so he ignores his eyes and determinedly concentrates on chopping vegetables.
Finally, Magnus breaks. "What happened?"
"Mom kicked me out," Alec answers blandly, immediately. His voice is surprisingly steady, considering.
Magnus' face acquires an ashen quality, but he doesn't seem surprised, only stricken- at loss for words. His eyes are too wide, too dark, mouth a tight line. "Why?"
"She saw the mark."
Magnus opens his mouth but only a raspy, dry sound comes out. "I'm so sorry," he mumbles when his voice returns. The guilt in his eyes intensifies.
Alec shakes his head. "It's not your fault," he says, tersely. "I was stupid. It was an accident really. She came in when I was about to hit the shower- my shirt was already off. The necklace must have caught in the fabric and I didn't notice it came off too. She saw it. She told me to get out."
One of Magnus' hands comes to rest on Alec's arm, effectively stopping the furious chopping he hadn't even noticed he's been doing. The carrot has been rendered into small slices, almost as if it had been butchered. Alec stares at the poor vegetable and at his shaking hands and breathes- a sharp inhale and a slow, noisy exhale.
"Alec," Magnus murmurs softly in his ear. "Look at me."
Alec lifts his gaze mechanically. His eyes meet concerned gold. "It's fine," Alec tells him, ignoring the hand on his arm. Magnus' face drops. He doesn't seem like he's buying what Alec wasn't even trying too hard to convince him of. "Don't worry about it."
"Your definition of 'fine' is skewed, darling," Magnus tells him gently, reaching out to rub Alec's back. Alec stiffens. Magnus pulls away with a frown.
"I get that a lot."
Grim silence fills the apartment, stretching to fill the empty spaces of missing furniture, a substitute to warmth and familiarity. It's heavy but not uncomfortable, almost like a blanket- though too thin to protect from the cold. Alec doesn't bother with conversation, just finishes the salad and goes looking for plates. He's sure he's seen some when he cleaned the kitchen cupboards, only he can't remember precisely which cupboard.
"How did you know?" Alec's not sure it even matters. His mouth runs without permission, too tempted with the idea of distraction.
"Jace texted me." Of course he did. "Then I tracked the pendant and found you here." Alec finds the plates. Setting the table doesn't take nearly long enough. The silence stretches.
Alec settles by the table, still as a statue and ignoring his plate. Magnus hovers over him- not even bothering to sit. He summons two tall glasses containing something that must be alcohol, or at least Alec hopes it is. The drink smells like cough-syrup and resembles a concoction of glowsticks and glitter. Alec downs his glass without a word. Magnus slides the other towards him. The worry lines around his mouth deepen.
Alec doesn't say anything, just sits there, slouching, and tries very hard not to think. The alcohol doesn't dim his mind enough for the thoughts to disappear voluntarily.
Magnus' fingers brush lightly along Alec's neck- tracing the line of the necklace. The action garners no response, not even a surprised one.
"Aren't you going to ask about 'here'?" Alec makes a feeble gesture to encompass the kitchen, the room, the apartment.
"I figured you'd tell me at one point or another." Magnus keeps on rubbing Alec's neck, pressing here and there to loosen tense muscle. Alec doesn't fight him, but his shoulders hunch almost instinctively. His muscles remain tight.
"Luke," Alec says curtly. "It's his friend's place."
"Where's the friend?"
Alec shakes his head. Magnus' fingers still. "I dunno."
"Will he return your ring?"
Alec lifts his gaze. "You noticed?" he asks, genuinely surprised. Magnus' eyes soften. His hands move to rest on Alec's biceps.
"'Course I did, sweetheart."
"How long?"
Magnus shrugs. "France," he murmurs.
Alec nods. "You didn't say anything," he observes quietly. "Why?"
"I didn't know you wanted an apartment," Magnus says with a mellow note in his tone. He doesn't answer the question.
Alec makes sure to lock eyes before he says, "I didn't tell you because I was trying to be fair."
Magnus frowns. Alec continues regardless. "The fact I was allowed to stay at your place while we were looking for the cure doesn't necessarily mean I have a lasting invitation to crash at your place indefinitely," he explains. "Even if we're bonded now, even if it's forever- it doesn't mean your place is automatically mine. I didn't want to impose."
Magnus lowers his head until Alec can't see his eyes. His hands tighten around Alec's arms.
"What?"
Magnus lifts his head. His golden eyes burn brightly with warmth and affection so strong it strikes Alec speechless. His smile is a sad one- pulled at the wrong angle and too dark. Alec tries to feel anything but dread.
Magnus' arms slide down to lock around Alec's waist- almost lifting him from the chair; the bear-hug pulls them closer together until Alec's face is pressing against Magnus' neck and his arms are caught between their bodies, unable to push away. He doesn't try. Doesn't have enough will or strength to detangle himself from the heat Magnus' body is offering. He remains limp. Magnus sighs in relief. "You do," he whispers in Alec's ear. His fingers travel up Alec's back to stroke his hair in soothing, long motions. His grip loosens a bit so Alec's able to breathe again, but not slack enough to allow him to wriggle. "You do have a lasting invitation to crash at my place indefinitely."
Alec feels himself tremble for the first time since his mother dropped a velvet box in his room and pointed at his chest with fear clear in her eyes. "Let me go," he mumbles against Magnus' neck.
"No."
"Please."
I can't.
"No." Magnus' voice is firm. Alec can tell by the tone and the sudden tightening of his arms around him that he's serious. "You need this," Magnus tells him, the words mumbled against the crown of his head, whispered in a kiss to his forehead.
"You don't know what I need," Alec argues, halfheartedly at best, mostly because he feels he should fight this. This- this everything that is too much and too fast and too painful to dwell on. But it pulls him in like quicksand, and he falls in like lead, breaking some sort of dam on his way down.
"Let me go."
Alec's voice is weak. Magnus' face hardens in exhausted resolution, prepared for the last volley. "No." Alec breathes onto his neck- "Never-" sharply. Hitching. "I'm never letting you go."
They stay frozen in position until Alec's heart calms to a moderate storm, until the light trembling of his hands- digging into Magnus' back- ceases. Until he can think clearly enough to feel and understand and grieve over the loss of his home and life and squelch the urge to cry because he's got nothing left. "Never thought the cat'd be out of the bag so soon," Alec murmurs, swallowing hard; each word feels like punch to the gut. Magnus presses a kiss to his temple, then another. He doesn't stop. "I didn't think she'd kick me out, or tell the Clave, didn't think she'd hate you, or me- the idea of us- that much, she- you can't- she freaked when she saw the mark-" the words flow out of him like filthy confessions, words scattered, erratic. Then his voice dies- breaks, simply, completely- and he can only whisper: "I've never seen her as afraid as she was the moment she laid eyes on me."
Magnus murmurs comfort and hopes into his ear. His body is warm. The hand in Alec's hair is warm. Alec's heart feels frozen.
"You can't change how people feel," Magnus tells him gently, pulling back- the heat is gone- to look at his face.
"She wants to change how I feel," Alec mutters bitterly. He's so cold.
"It's not her choice to make." Magnus smiles, a little sadly, and gives him a soft- like butterfly wings, like warmth and home and belonging- kiss. "It's your life, Alec. Your feelings, your decisions. Don't let anyone make you into anything you're not."
Alec nods, once. Then he buries his face in Magnus' neck, clutching to him desperately with both arms- and heaves a dry, wrecking sob.
He's still cold, but it's bearable.
x
Magnus is the one to get up and open the door when the doorbell rings. Alec's too worn and wrapped too tightly in magically stolen blankets to even consider moving from his spot on the stolen sofa in front of the stolen television. He hears the voices all too clearly, though.
Iz and Jace.
"Come in."
And they do, but instead of two siblings- he gets three. Three long faces, one slightly bewildered and two grim; the sum remains- three and not four.
It hurts.
Max jumps on the (stolen) sofa by Alec's side and says, "We snuck out to visit you!".
He sounds proud.
Alec's expression softens. Izzy scruffs her boots on the rug and proceeds with dumping a huge pack of popcorn on the (stolen) coffee table. "Who wants to watch a movie?" she inquires, waving a plastic, DVD disc box. "I've got DiCaprio."
"He's gotten fat lately," Magnus comments, his nose scrunching up. He slides back into the space on Alec's left, between his body and the arm of the sofa, across from Max. "I want Titanic days back."
Izzy hums her agreement as she settles on the floor close to Alec's legs. Jace does the same on the other side.
"He's the dude from Titanic?" Alec asks. Magnus turns to look at him with reverent hope in his eyes.
"You watched Titanic?"
Alec shrugs. "It's about that sinking boat, right?"
Magnus' shoulders slump a bit and he sighs heavily, leaning heavily against Alec's side. "A sinking boat," he mutters darkly. "He called the Titanic 'that sinking boat'…"
Alec turns to stare at his siblings with a confused frown. "So it's not about a boat?"
Izzy sighs in exasperation, shaking her head as if all hope is lost. Magnus seems crestfallen. Alec frowns at him with something close to hurt in the tight lines of his mouth. Jace takes one look at the both of them and starts laughing so hard breathing seems lost on him.
"What are you talking about?" Max asks grumpily, looking from Izzy to Jace to the strange, colorful man sitting on his big-brother's side in utter confusion. Alec can relate.
"A movie you're too young to watch," Izzy mumbles. Max protests loudly. She ignores his cries of 'nine's old enough!' and 'I'm not a kid anymore!' and pulls out another DVD set box out of her bursting backpack.
"What else have you got there?" Alec asks, giving the bag a dubious look. Izzy grins.
"Your inheritance." Her eyes glint and Alec can't be one hundred percent sure whether it's with the tears she must've already spent or mischief.
"And ring," Jace adds and throws something small and shiny at Alec's head. Alec's hands come up automatically to catch it. Jace looks impressed with his reflexes. Alec holds onto the ring and ignores his brother's eyes.
"Thanks."
Jace nods.
"Who wants Disney?" Izzy throws Titanic Dude's disc on the table and waves another plastic case vehemently. Max's eyes light up. He ducks his head before anyone- but Alec- sees and murmurs, "Disney sucks".
"What brings thee?" Magnus inquires, clearly interested. He doesn't hide it half as well as Max does.
"The classics," is Isabelle's response.
Magnus nods approvingly. He snaps his fingers and a silver, slick DVD player appears beneath the television. Alec opens his mouth but Magnus beats him to it with a, "It's from my own house, darling."
Alec shuts his mouth.
They watch two movies before Max falls asleep on Alec's lap. Alec's attention's divided unevenly between Magnus' prodding and poking and 'you see, she's totally like Willa, just fat and octopus-y' and the colorful cartoon on the screen. Alec gives up on the first movie as soon as Magnus starts cooing at Ariel and Prince What's His Face. He doesn't even bother with the second- leaning closer to Magnus and dozing off on his shoulder until Iz kicks his foot lightly.
"Time for Romeo and Juliet!"
Alec blinks slowly at her. She doesn't answer the question in his eyes, just pops in the disc.
"He's not fat," Alec says as soon as Romeo appears.
"That's because it was filmed before Titanic," Izzy says knowingly. Magnus gives her an impressed look Alec doesn't share the sentiment behind.
Frankly, the movie's a shit rendition of the play. The effects grate on Alec's nerves, the dialogue is too out of place not to be laughable, and DiCaprio's too pretty not to be annoying. Alec makes himself comfortable against Magnus' side- careful as not to disturb Max- and prepares for a nap. Magnus strokes his hair once, murmurs something Alec can't discern, and slips his arm around Alec's waist.
Alec wakes up when the credits begin to roll and Magnus moves his arm around to summon blankets for Alec's siblings, strewn all across the floor like puppies tired after a chase. Their circle is small and tightly knit- protective like a shield, like a pack surrounding its young. Magnus turns to him when Alec stirs, a soft smile on his face. The television tints his skin eerie blue. "You've missed the whole movie."
Alec nods, still sleepy. "You were warm," he mumbles, "and the movie was boring."
Magnus gasps theatrically, face contorting in an exaggerated grimace. "Whatever do I find appealing about you," he murmurs, leaning down and closer. Alec wraps his arms around Magnus' neck.
"No idea."
"It's the eyes," Magnus reveals, planting a kiss on Alec's cheek, slowly moving closer to brush his lips along Alec's jaw. Alec nuzzles Magnus' neck, humming, content. His fingers lace behind Magnus' head in order to tip it. Something cold meets his touch at the motion, something thick coiled around his finger.
The ring.
Suddenly he's all too aware of it, of how long it's been- so long that its presence against his skin feels foreign and heavy, almost irritating.
Magnus leans to kiss him. Alec fumbles with his ring.
Then an idea strikes.
Alec pulls away from the kiss and leans his forehead against Magnus', so close it's hard to focus on his eyes, on his face- so close he feels, rather than sees, the confusion on Magnus' face. "Alec?"
"I want to give you something," Alec tells him, taking off the ring and carefully pulling back from Magnus' body. He thrusts his palm forward - square between their bodies. The ring gleams in the dim light the television casts. Magnus stares at his hand for a long, quiet moment. He lets out a small, startled sound not entirely unlike a gasp.
When Magnus finally lifts his gaze, Alec's already biting his lip bloody with worry. Magnus gives him a sun brilliant smile and takes the ring carefully. He takes one of his own rings off- a surprisingly simple silver band with an intricate design of magical symbols engraved on its surface- to replace it with. The Lightwood family ring has never been Alec's favorite- he always thought it was too bulky, that it lacked finesse- but it looks perfect against Magnus' skin.
It looks right.
Magnus takes hold of Alec's left hand and slips the ring he's taken off on his finger. Ring finger.
Alec's lips pull up. He leans in closer. There's an uncertain edge to Magnus' expression as he asks, "Be mine?"
Alec laughs quietly. As if he isn't already.
"Always."
A/N: Exciting news, guys- this fic is a nominee in Energize W.I.P Awards fanfiction contest! I have no idea who sent an email to the organizers and recommended this story for the contest, but I want to hug them and bake them cookies and cakes and possibly marry them.
Can you tell I'm excited? no, really, I am :) So, if you guys have the time and the patience to vote (possible till the 20th) here's the link (the annoying, no-dots type link because FF):
www*energizewipawards*blogspot*com
On another note entirely, I finally got to writing the Lightwoods, who I believe have been smothered with sugar, spice and everything nice throughout the book series. Maryse is just the tip of the iceberg on that one, be prepared for angst next chapter.
Excerpt from said angsty chapter: "I took care of it," Robert assures him confidently. His eyes shine with zeal, bright as that of a crusader, like those of an idealist in too deep and over his head and cutting off everybody else's. Hot and dangerous as a wildfire.