First Fanfiction! I hope you enjoy it! (No copyright intended, all characters belong to Cassandra Clare)

CASTLES MADE OF SAND, CHAPTER TWENTY

All my Loving

"Close your eyes and I'll kiss you, Tomorrow I'll miss you; Remember I'll always be true.
And then while I'm away, I'll write home ev'ry day,
And I'll send all my loving to you."

Magnus walked into the front foyer of his estate, unable to wash away the permanent predominant smile on his face. He felt... weightless—light—almost like the sensation you got when descending from those tower drops, at the towns carnival every summer, where your stomach dropped beneath you, and there was this unmistakable rush of air, fear and giddiness all wrapped in one bundle of excitement. Had yesterday, and that morning actually transpired? Or was it all some type of fantastical illusion Magnus' mind deemed to conjure up?

Which ever option it was—and Magnus preferred the latter—he couldn't deny the fraction of a minute seizures constricting his heart, every time he envisioned those baby blues, intent on watching him, searching him, and that thin lipped half smile which basically begged Magnus to stare. And at this rate, Magnus was bound to have a heart attack, sooner than later if he didn't stop himself. He was actually surprisingly unhappy about the fact that he had, had to say goodbye to Alec, left wondering when the next moment would arise for them to be together again, and have even more conversations. What was happening to him? Magnus had the odd sensation that he was falling into a sort of delirious state, of being overly wanting and yearning of Alec when he was never around—and when he was, everything seemed to be made better by Alec's presence.

"Oh god," Magnus said out loud, his voice vibrating and bouncing around the dark cherry wood wall panels in waves. He felt as if he were turning into one of those cliche movie characters, where they constantly think of the other person, once that person is out of their reach. When Magnus was with Alec, it was fine, he could be himself, or more so a rather subtle portion of himself—but now that Alec was out of his grasp, moving along with his day, Magnus couldn't keep calm for the life of him. But he needed to stop, or else it would all spin out of control; and he couldn't—wouldn't let it slip out of control. If he did, everything would fail, and unravel harshly—and by then more than one person would get hurt. Magnus was determined to not let that happen; now only if Alec stopped being so alluring and otherwise adorable, he could make his plan work flawlessly...

"Magnus?" Gerald's deep tenor voice called from above. Magnus whipped his head to the side rather fast, and winced slightly—the skin around his jaw was still a bit too tender. Gerald was standing at the top of their grand staircase, his strong large hands clasped in front of him. He was wearing a dark blue-ish grey sweater, with a stitched 'X' trailing off of the neck line in a vibrant orange stitch, black straight legged jeans, and grey snake skin shoes. Very different and unusual from his customary attire, which mainly consisted of suits, tailored suits and even more suits of all different shades and colors.

"Yes?" Magnus turned fully to face the direction Gerald was. He hesitated though, looking down at himself, and what he was wearing. Definitely something Gerald would have disapproved of—that is if Gerald had seen him leave the house yesterday. Then Magnus noticed his arms were starkly bare, showing off the bruises which ran over the expanse of his tawny skin. Magnus sighed, and knew with the evidence held against him, Gerald would be none to happy, and give Magnus an emotional bitter taste of his mind. Magnus didn't look far enough into the future, to anticipate this, and now he wished he had.

"Where were you? I trust, not off doing something reckless, hmm?" Gerald seemed a bit calmer today than usual, but still there was no telling what could be boiling under the surface regarding Gerald. He was like a ticking time bomb; just give him a partial nudge and he could blow up in the most awful of ways. Gerald began to walk down the grand staircase, slowly and pointedly—trailing his bulky fingers along the indents and designs of the staircases banister.

"I took Alexander out for the day. I was just trying to get to know more about your colleagues son, and his interests. That sort of thing," Magnus held his chin high, and spoke with a smile. Hopefully, his father wouldn't unmask his partial lie, and see the hidden truth within his words. Magnus was exceptionally good at gliding around the truth—warping it to fit his ideals in the moment at hand. But then again, he had learnt all of his tricks on how to bend the truth from Gerald himself—there was no telling if Gerald could be any more perceptive of what Magnus was attempting to hide or not.

"Ah, that's my boy. Interweaving your way into the heart and mind of those who will come in handy one day." Gerald clapped earnestly—only for the simple fact that Magnus was showing qualities of his father. Magnus had always wondered if that was Gerald's only goal in life: to make Magnus into a carbon copy of himself. In which it would never work... Magnus was his mothers son; that was something hard to miss by those who had known Palmer. While Gerald had been focused and driven by his occupation and the stock market, Palmer was strangely obsessed with music—especially the piano—and books. Rows upon rows of books. And quite readily, that might have been the biggest reason, as to why Gerald cracked down hard on Magnus. Gerald didn't want to be anymore reminded of Palmer as Magnus did.

"Of course. I am sorry I didn't give Olive or Sarah any indication as to when I would be back," Magnus apologized, and puckered his lips tightly together; as Gerald came to stand directly in front of him. Magnus was tall, he towered over most, if not all, of his friends—but Gerald was even taller than him, and Magnus felt like cowering away from his father in that moment. But held his ground, not wanting to show Gerald any form of weakness. And really, Magnus was not weak or fragile; he could handle himself well against even the strongest forces.

"Yes, next time, make sure to do so. I do worry Magnus, even if you think I don't..." Gerald said in a low strangled whisper, and raised his hand to Magnus' face; Magnus absently flinched away from his touch—his body was scared of Gerald, no matter how much Magnus tried to show indifference, and stand his ground. His mind and body never seemed to work together properly. Gerald regarded him with calm watchful eyes; there was a silent flicker of pain intermingling with the ripe green acid color of his eyes, but within a moment of silence, it was gone and Gerald lowered his hand back down to his side. "So tell me more about Alec, he seems like a very strapping young man." Gerald clasped his hands behind his back this time, and rocked backwards on his heels.

"He has a keen fascination in literature, that is amazing actually," Magnus answered, to Gerald and himself. It was crazy the amount of pieces Alec had read, and equally as crazy that most, if not all, of them were some of Magnus' favourites. From the words written by Thomas De Beverly of Sir Galahad, to those spoken words by Shylock of the Merchant of Venice; Alec's knowledge of literature met no bonds, and it created another side of Alec that Magnus wanted desperately to explore. "He doesn't remind me of Maryse though. She's more of a person, with straight forward views, while Alexander is just all over the place with his." And that was the truth, in Magnus' perception.

"Analyzing. I like it!" Gerald grabbed Magnus by the shoulder in a rush of sharp movements, and pulled him into his side, semi-hugging him. Yes, there were times where Gerald could be exactly the guy Magnus had always wanted him to be—the father, who was always proud of the littlest things his son accomplished. And right now, Magnus was going to bask in that glory for the little amount of time he was undoubtedly given. "I got the same impression the day before yesterday, as well. He seems indecisive, does he not?" I hope not, Magnus thought, I don't want him to be indecisive about me.

"Yeah, I suppose. He tends to stumble on his words a bit," Magnus shrugged out of his fathers reach, and fixed his orange tank, over the tops of his shoulders.

"He is exactly like his father. I went to school with Robert when I was your age, an interesting man he was back then." Gerald had this thoughtful glint to his eyes. He raised his right hand to his chin, and arched his fingers underneath. "He had met Maryse in tenth grade—I remember when her family had moved into town. Her and Marian where all the talk there was for days."

"Love at first sight, was it?" Magnus slightly mocked, finding it a bit weird that Maryse, Robert, and Gerald had known each other from the past. Magnus was under the impression that Gerald had never met Robert before their dinner, or Maryse before she began to work for Valentine and Gerald. But quite possibly it was the way Gerald wanted it to appear in the presence of everyone else—as if they were all formally business partners rather than long time friends, to keep up with a structured image for those who were unaware of their past. Alicante was known to be the town made of impressions—how you acted, spoke, and essentially presented yourself could determine your faith and esteem among the towns people.

"I wouldn't know. Robert was always very private about his feelings towards others. He usually showed resistance to any relationship he was in." Magnus wanted to know more, so much more about this partial secretive past of their parents. It was all so interesting, finding out the type of people they had once been, before settling down and creating families of their own. But just as he was about to sleuth even further into the truth behind the adults, a loud harsh knock come from behind—the brass lion knocker was being bounced off of the black doors front lazily, from whoever was outside.

"I'll get that," Magnus suggested, and turned to the door, walking in short strides.

"I'll be in my study. Do see it fit to come get me, if it isn't one of your friends." Gerald said, before he retreated around one of the many corners of the dark house, in the direction which led to his lavish dome shaped office. Magnus continued on to the front door, and opened it swiftly. Strips of silver caught his eyes almost instantly, and he smiled, recognizing who those silver locks belonged to. James was standing in front of him, with a small smile playing on his lips as well, his hair turned up completely to one side, in a silver fiery shape. He was wearing light creamy brown pants, which were cuffed at the end, a black with white stripes short sleeve shirt underneath a grey blazer.

"Fancy seeing you here, Jem. What a nice surprise." Magnus winked, and ushered James inside.

"Ah, yes. Who would have guessed you lived here?" James mocked, and kicked off his black sandals, and began to take to the staircase, making his way to Magnus' bedroom, as if this were his house as well. In fact, it was basically James, William, Johnathan, and Clary's second home. They were usually lurking around the halls at ungodly hours, at random—sometimes even when Magnus was not home. And it was really no problem at all to Gerald or Magnus. Their parents were Gerald's best colleagues—friends, so it was only fitting that he welcomed their children in with open arms, as they had done for Magnus so many times as well.

Olive and Sarah cared less as well, about teenagers wondering the halls of the house. They loved to cook enormous amounts of food for Johnathan and William, since those two were the ones who could pack away the most food. They also loved having Clary around—since she was basically the only other woman of the house, so to speak. They loved having a teenage girl to mentor, and toddle around. With Magnus they couldn't talk to him about the troubles of being a girl; and thank god they didn't.

Magnus stalked after James, up the stairs, down the dark hall, and into his bedroom. As soon as they stepped through the threshold, Magnus was hit by a wave of lemon and sweet rosemary perfumes, and the image of his room perfectly done up again. He shook his head briefly, then sauntered his way over to his bed, and slumped back; as James sat down on the gleaming scarlet red chair, situated just in front of his bright blue vanity table. Magnus loved color, he loved it a lot.

"How was your morning, Jem?" Magnus lifted his head, and turned his body to James. Magnus took to resting his head in the palm of his left hand, and lacing his fingers throughout his muffled hair, while his other hand was laid lazily over his hip bone. He saw James' eyes flicker momentarily to the bruises along Magnus' arms, but didn't act on it, and returned his liquid silver eyes to Magnus' face. Like Alec, James was respectful to keep dark secrets and truths silent—not wanting to disturb Magnus, and bring up things, which he did not feel suitable to talk about.

"Final check-ups." James tried to suppress the bright beaming smile on his face. "I'm home free Magnus," James leaned over, placing his elbows on the edge of his knees. He placed his face in his hands, slouching his back, and dipping his head low. "Home free..." His voice was muffled, but Magnus could hear the sheer and faithful bliss of happiness in James' voice. Magnus felt his heart stab with his own kind of happiness looking upon his friend, who was now officially a survivor of cancer—thanking God, for the days given, where he was blessed to see those glittering silver eyes, and full-hearted smile; without the restraint of sickness.

"I'm really happy for you Jem," Magnus got off his bed, and knelled in front of the chair James was sitting on. James looked up from his hands, and pushed himself forward off the chair, to hug Magnus around the shoulders, knocking Magnus and himself to the ground.

"Oh gosh, no more Cemo, no more hospitals, Magnus! I can finally drink like a sailor if I wanted too!" James said gaily, laughing, his body vibrating under the tips of Magnus' fingers as they continued to hug one another. He smelled of fresh bread, for some odd reason, and cinnamon—reminding Magnus of the sweet cinnamon smell of Alec's breath.

"I don't think I want to see you drunk Jem. I'm scared about all the naughty things you could get yourself into," Magnus sat up a bit, and so did James; who took to rocking back on the balls of his feet. James' eyes were blazing, Magnus realized, with this new type of optimism. It was like watching steel pipes glitter in the full harsh rays of sun, during the months were new steel and iron buildings were being built in the hazy summer.

"Naughty? I don't have a naughty bone in my body—" James stopped himself, and pursed his lips at what he had just said; pinching his eyebrows together on his forehead wearily. They both burst out laughing after a moment of hesitation, clutching their hands around their stomachs, metaphorically dieing on Magnus' bedroom floor, at what James had implied. Oh yes, Magnus loved moments like these, when he could laugh about the stupidest things with anyone for hours, even if it made no sense to him why they continued to laugh. James was the best solace for that in fact; he was so care free, and had such a beautiful inviting soul—it was just too hard to not be able to open up ones heart to James Carstairs. Anyone who first met James, had a hard time not finding him the most lovable person you could ever meet.

"And besides," James continued, after he came down from his fit of laughter. "You're going to have to see me drunk tomorrow. Sebastian's parents are skipping out of town for a couple of days." James raised his left eyebrow high on his flawless forehead, and smirked.

"Party?" Magnus rhetorically asked. He knew the answer, without James even having to give him further indication.

"Why yes, that is what they call those things right?"

A/N: I didn't want you guys to think Gerald was all that bad. Yes, he has his moments where he can be an absolute monster, but I wanted to show you guys that there is a reason behind his actions. (As there always is). Oh! And I kind of liked the idea (while I was writing this) of incorporating a little bit of the back story of the parents into this story. Tell me if you're okay with it or don't like it! (It really won't come up that much, just small bits here and there). Jem! I love Jem! I think I've mentioned that to you guys before... I just can't explain the amount of feelings I have towards this guy, it's crazy. I just had a pretty terrible day today, and needed some Jem in there to cheer me up. I really wanted to show how Jem is practically Magnus' best friend, other than William. Because really, Jem is the one who makes him happier, even in the darkest of times—and is essentially that understanding friend, who has seen worse things happen to Magnus, but would never press him about it, because he just gets Magnus, and knows who he is.
The party is in the next chapter! And who knows what could happen there (; ?

Review, because yes, i'll admit... It does make the process go faster...

Amber,