Thanks to everyone who's decided to give this story a chance despite my less-than-enthusiastic first author's note. I hope you continue to read and enjoy :)

To the reviewer who explained the Latin translation, thank-you! I was a French major before I started medical school and I totally understand the feeling. I've only included the English in the summary (but you're right, the Latin does sound cooler!)

Like I said before, prepare yourselves for a long haul with this one. It's more serious, requires more extensive planning, and will be updated much less frequently than Certain Dark Things. I currently have another couple of chapters on reserve though, so I suppose you can expect quick updates for this week.

:)

"Fear cuts deeper than swords."
- George R R Martin

Only after he had slammed the door to Magnus's apartment, did Alec consider that his boyfriend might still be asleep. Cursing softly, he slipped out of his boots and crept through the loft, toward the bedroom. He hopped over empty takeout containers, blankets, and the slumbering figure of Chairman Meow curled up in one of his own ratty sweaters, and made a silent pact to clean this place before he returned to the Institute the following morning.

The Institute. Just thinking about it made his stomach curl. Not only would their new addition take away from his Magnus time, he would have to spend half his energy trying to figure out what this new Shadowhunter was up to. Between that, trying to make sure Izzy didn't get hurt, stopping Jace from defiling the training room, and running back to Brooklyn during any free time, he would soon be more exhausted than his boyfriend. Not that anyone really cared about how tired Magnus was. Magnus could push himself to the brink of death and the Clave still wouldn't acknowledge what he'd done. More importantly, Alec's father would never acknowledge what he'd done. Today had been the first time they'd seen each other in weeks, and he'd barely had time for him. Clearly, when Robert had been first introduced to Magnus he'd been too overwhelmed by grief to process what was really happening. If he was really fine with it, he would never have shut Alec out. He wouldn't have a problem looking at him for more than ten seconds at a time. Most importantly, he would take the time to at least send a fire message and see how his son was doing. For all Alec knew, this new Shadowhunter would be the daughter of an old friend. Someone who was being sent here to try to convince Alec that he was making the wrong choice.

He scoffed, amazed that there were still people who thought such things. As if he could take one of Magnus's potions and be cured. De-gayed. Straightified. As if he could wake up one morning and not be mesmerized by the sight of Magnus lying in front of him, hair tousled, lips parted. Fuck the Clave. And fuck his father, too. One time, all he ever wanted was their approval. He had stuffed himself in a cage of his own making, with bars of fear and lies and deceptions, until he had forgotten that he even had the freedom to make his own choices. Magnus had changed that. Loving Magnus had changed everything, and Alec would not go back to being the scared little boy he had been. Not after he had grown accustomed to being himself.

Banishing his dark thoughts, he dropped his pants and pulled off his shirt right outside the bedroom door. He then slipped in quietly, making two quick, nearly-silent steps to the bed before pulling back the covers and slipping in. By some miracle, Magnus was still completely asleep. Alec reached out to gather the warlock in his arms, to pull him into his chest and imbibe some of his warmth, only to find that Magnus was ice cold.

"Magnus!" he yelped, jumping back and drawing the blankets around himself. "That was totally uncalled for! I should have known that it was too much to hope that you would be sleeping peacefully." He grinned, poking his leg out through the blanket and prodding his boyfriend's back.

"Magnus?"

His grin faltered a little when Magnus didn't move. A flickering of unease unfurled in his abdomen when Magnus didn't grin in return. When he didn't twitch. Didn't jump up and haul Alec down for a kiss. In fact, there wasn't so much as a rustling of hair with his exhalations. He was completely still.

"Magnus? Magnus, seriously, this isn't funny." Alec pulled Magnus over onto his back, laying his hand on the golden skin of his chest. It felt no different than placing his palm on the linoleum floor: cold, hard, and lifeless; lacking any indication that blood was coursing just below the surface. Panicking, Alec bunched the blankets around his boyfriend's frame, trying his best to trap in as much heat as possible. He grabbed Magnus's wrist, checking for some kind of pulse, but he got nothing. His own chest was heaving, and the only thing he could feel was his own blood pumping through his hands, reacting to the panic that was threatening to overtake him.

Okay Alec, he ordered himself, calm down. Calm down and help Magnus. He pressed his face to Magnus's chest, hearing the slightest pulsation.

The weak lub-dub was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

"Okay Magnus," he said, pulling his boyfriend into his arms, shaking him a little. "Wake up. You've gotta wake up for me."

Still nothing.

"Magnus?" Alec's voice cracked, hysteria robbing him of his ability to think clearly. He tapped his hand against the warlock's face - gently at first and then a little harder. "Magnus, you've got to wake up. You're the one who knows what to do. I have no idea what to do."

Whatever was happening to Magnus, there had to be some sort of magical stimulus. The warlock was freezing, but his body was doing nothing to compensate. There was no shivering, no chattering teeth, no pooling of blood to his chest. It was as if he had been simply turned to stone.

Knowing there wasn't enough time to call for help, Alec knew he had to find something in Magnus's apartment. He scooped him into his arms, still wrapped in the canary-colored comforter, and whisked him to the living room. Placing him gently on the sofa, Alec rushed to the closet and starting sifting through the contents. He shoved aside clothes and shoes, launched old pieces of costume and books across the room, until he came to a trunk he knew was full of extra potions and powders. As he rifled through, trying to find something - anything - that would be useful, he found himself irritated that Magnus's things were so unorganized. A high-pitched giggle bubbled out as he realized how ridiculous he was being. His boyfriend was wasting away into some sort of icicle and he was worried about his filing system. Who cared if Magnus left his shoes on the living room floor, or if he had once left a coffee cup in the cupboard above his bathroom sink? Who cared if he conjured up breakfast when there was food in the fridge, or if he wiped away makeup that had taken forty-five minutes to apply because it didn't match his shoelaces? Alec loved all of Magnus's eccentricities, and even as he was spiraling further into hysteria because of the haphazard piles of crap that were crammed into this infernal fucking box, he found himself loving Magnus even more because the mess was so incredibly, uniquely him.

A tear dripped down on one of the bottles before Alec had even noticed he was crying. Hands shaking, he wiped the water away, pushing a pile of envelopes in the process. The cover of one lifted, and inside Alec saw a copper-coloured powder. A powder that looked incredibly familiar. He reached out and grabbed the envelope, and as he did, the smell of the potion, sharp and so bitter he could taste it, unlocked a deluge of memories. He remembered jumping in front of Izzy, remembered the way her face had contorted in pain when she realized what was going to happen. He remembered the sharp pain of a demon bite before Izzy's whip could do its damage. But most poignantly, he remembered the chill of the venom, so cold it felt like liquid nitrogen injected directly into his bloodstream, snaking its way up his body. By the time Magnus got there, Alec could barely move his lower body. Magnus had forced something down his throat - the same acrid something that he smelled right now.

He had no idea what it was or if it would work, but right now it was his only option.

Not bothering to boil any water or let the powder dissolve, Alec upturned the whole contents into a glass of tap water. He hurried back to Magnus's side, and propped his boyfriend into a sitting position. As gently as he could, he poured the rust-coloured liquid down Magnus's throat, praying that it would do something. Anything.

Once the mixture was gone, Alec drew Magnus into his arms, pressing their bodies together. He tried his best to calm down, to stop shaking, knowing that he had to be able to detect any change in Magnus's condition, but it was nearly impossible. He stayed there, gently rocking the warlock, rubbing his arms up and down Magnus's chest in a frantic attempt to create heat. It was like a grotesque dance, the gentle swaying of Magnus's lithe frame keeping perfect time with the rise and fall of Alec's breaths.

Alec could feel when Magnus's heartbeat strengthened. He had gripped the warlock so tightly that the gentle pulsation felt like it could be coming from his own chest. One heart fuelling two bodies. One heart bringing two frozen lovers back to life.

The sense of relief was strong enough to make Alec drop Magnus. Luckily, he just landed against the edge of the sofa.

"Mrghfff," Magnus mumbled, wincing as Alec threw himself on top of the pile of blankets. "Alec, what are you doing?"

"You're alive," Alec said into Magnus's neck.

Magnus pulled his hands out of the blankets with a grunt and placed them against Alec's forehead. "Doesn't feel like there's a fever."

Alec grabbed the warlock's slender fingers and kissed them gently. "I'm not sick, you asshole. I was scared half to death. I didn't know if you were going to wake up."

"Wake up?" You jumped on top of me, and you know, when they say that muscle weighs more than fat, I am inclined to agree." He pushed at Alec, but to no avail. "Seriously, Alec. I love your muscles, but I prefer when they're working over different parts of my anatomy than my windpipe."

Alec shifted over, but refused to release his boyfriend's hands. "Magnus, this is not a joke. You can't just laugh it off, I thought you were dead."

"Dead? Alec - woah." Magnus's eyes rolled back as he attempted to shift his weight. "Talk about being dazed by beauty."

Alec was far from amused. "Magnus, can you be serious for a second and clue me into why I came home to find you in some sort of frozen coma?"

"Ah." Magnus snuggled closer to Alec. "That's how I ended up on the sofa."

"Yeah, I didn't want to leave you in the bed by yourself."

Magnus sighed, lifting his head up and brushing his lips against Alec's. "And here I thought you just wanted to have your way with me."

Alec grabbed Magnus's quickly descending hand and pinned it above his head. "I'm serious, Magnus."

Magnus leaned forward to nip at Alec's neck. "And I'm seriously turned on."

Unwilling to give in, Alec merely stripped Magnus of his temptation by moving to the floor. "Magnus, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong, Alexander, is - "

"If that sentence contains the words sex, sexy, or any derivatives thereof, then I'll walk out right now. Magnus, I thought you were going to die. What the hell happened?"

Magnus shrugged. "I was tired."

"Tired? Magnus, when you're tired, you magic my hair pink so that I'll stop pulling up the curtains. When you're tired, you turn my cellphone into a dildo so that 'at least its vibrating can be useful'. This, whatever it was, was way beyond tired."

"Alec, I was way beyond tired when the only sleeping pill available was an anvil to the head. I've been alive for almost a millennium, and sometimes it catches up on me. It's nothing to be worried about." He stood up, the faint crinkle between his eyes the only indication that he wasn't telling the truth. He leaned in, wrapping his arms around Alec's neck and burying his face in his hair. "I'm fine, Alexander, I promise."

"Well, you have to promise to stopping wearing yourself out," Alec insisted, allowing Magnus to nuzzle to his heart's content, if only because that way he could ensure the warlock remained upright. "We're going to have a little extra help starting tomorrow, so you'll be able to rest."

"More help?"

"Yeah, apparently there's a new Shadowhunter arriving tomorrow. From the London Institute."

Magnus withdrew his arms and sighed. A long-winded, very Magnus sigh. "Another Shadowhunter?"

Alec did his best to suppress a smile. "First you make yourself so tired you can barely wake trying to improve Downworlder-Shadowhunter relations, and now you hate them?"

"Who said hate?"

Alec folded his arms, refusing to grin. "Magnus, have you forgotten that I'm a Shadowhunter?"

"Oh Alec, sweetness, nobody's perfect. I once dated a Faerie that would shoot out seeds whenever he - well, let's just say there are some places trees should never planted."

"And I'll file that under things I never needed to know about my boyfriend. Thanks, really."

"I live to serve," Magnus purred with a wink.

"Well," Alec replied, digging his hands into his back pocket and pulling out his stele. He dropped it on the coffee table. "I guess we won't be needing this. You know, if you loathe Shadowhunters so much, you're probably not a big fan of runes either."

Magnus's smile faltered and he bent down to scoop up the little grey ball of fluff that had emerged from beneath the sofa. "I was just thinking of the Chairman," Magnus said, shoving the kitten in Alec's face. "He has a hard time accepting change. To him, all Shadowhunters are ghastly beasts that want his hide just because he's in love with a Warlock."

"Is that so?" Alec asked, picking up the stele and flipping it from hand to hand. "Well, I guess if you were just worried about the Chairman…"

Magnus nodded emphatically. "Most definitely. I quite enjoy Shadowhunters. Adore them, in fact. And runes, well. I think I could probably show you my appreciation for that branch of magic, if you'd just accompany me back to the bedroom."

Alec flicked out his foot and tripped the warlock, catching him just before he hit the ground. He then pushed him onto the floor, pinning his arms above his head. "You've had a trying morning," he whispered in his ear, tracing his tongue along the cartilage. "Walking all that way might be more than you can handle."

Magnus picked up the discarded stele and traced it against Alec's skin. "I fucking love Shadowhunters."

If you're enjoying the story, please let me know. I'm focusing on Certain Dark Things right now, but if readers demand more, I'll have no choice but to comply. ;)