Okay so I suck but hey you guys already knew that didn't you?

First reason why I suck is pretty obvious (Me not being able to update any single freaking thing I write within a month if it was a secret but it's not) and I sincerely apologize for that. I have had some shit hit my personal life fan and needless to say I got thoroughly covered and this little world of ships and au's has fallen to the way side but hopefully everything shall get better and I will be back more regularly

Second reason I suck is that I never explained that every 5 chapters I was going to switch POV's (Alec to Magnus and then back)

(well that's what I plan to do but if a disproportionate amount of you decide to tell me kindly to not go down that path then I may possibly reconsider but I haven't told you so how can the masses outcry)

Welp anyways I hope you enjoy this 4,000+ word chapter because my fingers hurt

OH! I must admit that the whole club that I obviously can't talk about but is totally fucking awesome is not my creation but is my favorite movie ever so yep

Happy trails and Enjoy my lovely (and amazingly patient*like Yoda level patient and I thank you so much for that*) Readers & Reviewers

~L.C

_xxXxx_

Song For This Section~ Next Year by Two Door Cinema (Just a good song that I kinda thought worked)

Worries are kind of like a runny nose. They're always there but if you get distracted enough that ache in your mind and heart or that annoying sniffle magically disappear, only to reappear and take your breath away. Since stepping off Izzy's truck nearly a full 24 hours ago, I had been constantly searching for anything to keep that ache away and had bounced from physical exercise to physical exercise but eventually all safe havens kick you out on your ass and I had become desperate. Desperate enough to resort to watching T.V with my siblings.

"No I'm telling you, that's just fucking gnarly," Izzy said from where she sat cross legged above me. Jace was sprawled on the fugly rug that he had probably picked up at a flea market similar to where the TV sitting on his trunk of personal belongings had come from. An electrical cord, or rather death trap as I had nicknamed it, hung out from behind the bunny eared contraption and snaked all the way down to the four universal generators parked behind the shower stalls and bathrooms, both of which I had found out earlier as the circus unfolded onto the small plot of land, were a bitch to set up.

I dropped my head back onto Jace's bunk and stared up at Izzy as she braided her hair back to go with her "forest ranger chic" look, her words not mine, and couldn't help but asking, "Gnarly?"

She just shrugged and turned back to the screen where Anna, a poor compulsive human hair eater, was sitting on a comfortable and oh so stereotypical counselor reclining chair and was talking about how the death of her beloved husband, may Jesus lead Bob safely, caused her obsession with eating hair. The whole thing was ridiculous and mildly nauseating but sadly TLC and QVC were the only non-blurrish TV stations that weren't in Spanish or, for some strange reason, Russian.

After some tears and a few too many scenes of Anna eating suspiciously curly black hair, the screen went completely blank and words faded into a bright white line that Jace oh so helpfully read aloud, because you know that the rest of the tent was illiterate, right.

"Anna has reduced her human hair consumption to only once per day and is still speaking to counselors on the subject." Jace made a disgusted face that was dramatic enough to snatch an Oscar and just as he was opening his mouth to add a surely hilarious comment, the words faded back into black only to be replaced by a different set which, obviously, Jace had to oh so helpfully read. "She hopes to make a full recovery before her anniversary." The screen faded again but no more updates on Anna's condition were to be read, only 2 full minutes of credits. This gave Jace the opening he needed so desperately, "Well that was fucked up. God, did you see when she ate those pubes?"

This was met with a very vocal groan from my corner of the world and Jace looked at me with a snarky grin that basically signaled the destruction of whatever pride I thought I held. I groaned again, knowing that whatever "funny" comment that was coming wasn't really going to be all that funny to me.

Jace in a very good impersonation of a stoic John Wayne said, "You, Alexander Gideon Lightwood cannot look me in my face and say that that piece of very curly and very dark hair did not come from a 100% all beef thermometer."

That was just disgusting but not disgusting enough to hide the blush from my cheeks. Isabelle had to have seen my white flag of embarrassment so she helpfully added, "I think you mean a yogurt cannon."

Catching on, Jace nodded and said, "To say a long dong silver."

Even with my face thoroughly heated up, they decided to take turns, the bastards.

"A d-train headed downtown for sure."

"Definitely a love stick."

"Stinky pickle perhaps?"

"No, no a bologna pony."

"Divine Rod of Love Making is my personal favorite."

"Nice that has style, class ev-"

My face had to be the color of a tomato and I could almost feel the heat radiating off of it as I quickly interrupted the innuendo may lay.

With my hands covering my face, I half-yelled, half-whispered, "That's it. I get it. I got it. Okay? Okay. Now can you two please stop? I'm done."

Isabelle grabbed at my wrists and tried to pry them away as she cooed in a sing-song voice, "Oh Alec, did we embarrass you?"

I shook my head and got up, carefully entangling myself from Izzy, so as not to hurt her. Ten steps and I was outside listening to the continued list of unfortunate slang.

I turned around and leaned against a support pole in the tents flowing khaki cover and let a small smile play over my lips at the continued ruckus from inside, now accompanied by a very loud Clinton Kelly complaining about something called a Mumu.

Starting to walk to my own tent, I was so utterly absorbed in the moment that I didn't notice the person walking up behind me until they touched my shoulder.

I reacted, unfortunately my flight or fight was more fight or kill, and instantly sprung out a hand to do some kind of destruction but pulled it at the last second when I saw the green-gold eyes completely filled with terror.

Song For This Section~ The Wolves by Ben Howard

Magnus buckled at his middle and fell to his knees and then forward onto his hands, cowering in a ball. I didn't know what to do or how to react but I fell to my knees too and placed a hand on his shoulder. It didn't help the quickly forming flower of destruction opening up in my chest as Magnus tried to get away from my hand and looked up at me with tears gushing down his face and his whole body was shaking uncontrollably despite the fact that it was nearly 90 degrees.

But something was wrong despite the obvious. His eyes stared wide and frightened at me but they were murky like they didn't actually see me. Like they were seeing through me into some deep pit of hell and I was the video screen.

"No, shit Magnus, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I-I can fix this," I stared around at the field which seemed to have cleared the single time I was desperate for someone. Anyone! Letting out a frustrated puff of air, I collected myself and all the pieces that had shattered at causing Magnus to be like this. I growled out, "I can fucking fix this," in an attempt to keep myself together. Running down my mental list of people who could maybe help me, I eventually decided that I was desperate enough to call in a favor.

Gently putting an arm under the now limp, but still shivering and sobbing, Magnus. I tried to pull him up off the ground enough to readjust my arm so that I could coax him into walking. Eventually, he was half leaning and half falling onto my shoulder, body still racked with violent shivers and sobs. After a few steps, it was obvious that walking wasn't going to happen so with a swing of my arms under Magnus's long legs, I was carrying him wedding style and basically running towards the outermost reaches of the circus's allotted plot.

As I weaved my way through the different pens and cages of the various circus animals, I started to get progressively more worried. The cords of muscles along his arms and torso were locked tight, and tears still created crystal trails along his face but the shaking had stopped and sobs no longer racked his body. Stopping every few seconds to readjust my arms because Magnus was slowly slipping out of my arms, damn leather pants, it seemed to take hours to get to where I needed to be.

Finally, I made it to the three connected tents and pushed my way through the middle flap. My eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light and I stared, pleadingly, at Jem, Tessa, and Will before saying, "Please help me. I-I don't know what to do. I just, help me."

As if this thing happened every day, the group moved as one to their apparently allotted positions. Will walked up to me and took Magnus from my now sagging arms and moved him over to a cot. Jem disappeared into an adjoining tent. Tessa started emptying water bottles into a kettle and asked me in a gentle tone, "Alexander, what happened? Tell me everything so we can know what to do."

Sucking in a steadying breath I recounted the unnaturally quick story, Tessa, Will, and Jem who had reappeared carrying a large suitcase that, after he efficiently unzipped it, I found out was full of medical supplies, all nodded as I told my story and only Jem spoke after asking in his usual calm and controlled voice, "Do you have any idea why Magnus might react like this?"

This stopped me dead in my mental tracks. Should I tell them? Was it my secret to tell? Would Magnus be upset if I told someone else? Had Magnus made it common knowledge about his past? At the time, it had felt like Magnus was sharing a dark part of his past just with me but what if it was something he threw away. What if-But no. He couldn't have thrown it away or otherwise they would have known why had reacted the way he did. What should I do? This was Magnus's health we were talking about and right then and there I decided that I would rather deal with a possibly mad Magnus than a possibly sick Magnus. My voice cracked with the exertion of the whole event when I explained, "His father abused him. I don't know much about it but I do know that before he left, I guess it got pretty bad."

Again all three of them nodded in synchronization and then turned to each other, talking without words like only those who were connected on the deepest level could. A long moment passed and I just wanted to scream and yell because no matter how many times I denied it to my prying sister or her annoying friends, I felt something for Magnus. I don't know if it was romantic or just a deep connection on a friendship level but that didn't matter right now. I cared if he was alright and the skin that should be the color of summer and heat was pale. The eyes that should be alight with a joke on the tip of his tongue were closed, the lids dark like he hadn't been sleeping lately. Had they been like that yesterday when we were driving? I couldn't remember and that scared me. Usually I was so careful to watch and make sure everyone else was okay and now I felt like a failure.

My makeshift EMTs took another minute of silent conversation before Will took his turn to speak and said, "He probably is just a little bit in shock. He doesn't need a hospital or anything but he isn't going to be up to his usual snuff for a few hours. We have to go to talk to a man about some trainers so you can sit here with him and when he wakes up, which he will probably in the next ten to fifteen minutes; you can give him some tea. Another thirty minutes to rest and then you can take your happy arses out of our tent, Lightwood."

Tessa and Jem both looked at Will tiredly and said together, "Will!"

Will just shrugged his shoulders and started to walk out the tent. Halfway out of the flap he turned around and our eyes locked. I saw that night flash behind his eyes and I remembered it too. I saw the lite kisses that I shouldn't have seen and I heard the deep wet coughs. I felt the light weight on my arms, so similar to Magnus and I heard the desperate mumble off, "Please take him back and don't tell anyone." I saw it all replayed behind my eyelids before remembering that I was here and my eyes focused back on Will who gave me a meaning full look before saying, "We're even now Lightwood." Without another word or some much as a glance back, he disappeared out into the bright sunlight. The other two shared a look again but followed Will outside, leaving me with some kind words and a pat on the shoulder.

Song For This Section~ Fire by Ingrid Michaelson (Okay not the best song choice but just go with it my Yoda level patient readers)

Waiting was never my specialty, especially with Magnus's quickly evening breath. Every intake and then puff on the exhale was equivalent to one ounce of sanity to slipping out of my body and in to whatever ether lay out there. If I was in a movie, I would have probably thought deeply about the purpose of life and about how this reflected into my own life. I would have a deep internal monologue. I'm sure it would be profound as all hell.

Unfortunately my thoughts were neither profound nor deep. My thoughts mimicked that of a sixth grade school girl.

"Do I like Magnus? Like, like like Magnus?" repeated itself over and over again through my head. I didn't think I did but when Magnus had crumpled to the ground, I hadn't worried like I would worry about a friend or even Isabelle. No I lost my shit and the only reason I had kept it together was because I knew that losing my shit visibly and not just in my head wasn't going to get Magnus anywhere near help. That didn't necessarily mean I liked, liked Magnus but as the color returned to his cheeks and his eyelids occasionally started to flutter, I was forced to admit to myself that those butterflies that had been there sense my gaze met those intoxicating green-gold eyes were now full-fledged elephants trampling their way up and down my digestive track.

It wasn't professional and it wasn't like me at all. Sitting here alone, well almost alone, I could admit to myself that Magnus was definitely attractive. Being perfectly honest he was sex on a corn-dog stick with a big dollop of orgy eyes and then a nice sprinkling of a delicious ass (all of which I could never think around anyone else in case someone had mind reading powers I didn't know about). Somehow it was more than that though. Magnus had this personality and way about him that somehow managed to take my worries and just generally shitty attitude and made everything seem not so bad.

But this was ridiculous. First off, we had only known each other what? Two weeks? You can't like, like someone in two weeks. I barely knew Magnus thinking about it. Where he was born; his favorite food; whether or not he was allergic to shellfish and all the other things you really needed to know to like, like someone were mysteries to me. There for I couldn't like, like Magnus. Right? Right. Second off, even if I did really like, like Magnus, he could never like, like me back. We were the most opposite of opposite. To bookends from different dollar stores. He was all fashion and glitter and sex and I was wholly sweaters and just… grey. Plain, boring and nothing to get excited over. I was- A raspy voice rose from the cot saying, "My head is fucking killing me."

I reacted much like the sixth grade girl I was apparently turning into. My arms flailed and I quickly jumped up to run and get the tea, I was assuming it was on the makeshift stove, knocking over the folding chair I had pulled up next to the bed in the process. This caused me to cuss profusely, a terrible act for the sixth grade girl I was, and a low chuckle to come from the bed my back was turned to.

The tea was exactly where I thought it would be. Pouring it into a cup and burning my hand on the way back to the cot, I eventually handed it to a sitting up and slightly moaning Magnus. The elephants in my digestive track weren't helping as I said, "How are you feeling?"

Another laugh and another groan before the reply came. "I feel like I partied way to much but last time I checked I was going to check on you to make sure you were alright."

This wasn't the best thing for my inner sixth grader and she very violently decided to appear in my cheeks, also known as a blush the color of a baboon's ass right there on my face because that's attractive. The only thing to make the whole thing better was that as I opened my mouth to talk the words came out as, "Oh wel-we-well I'm fi-fine. But a-are you s-ss-sure you're okay?" I hadn't stuttered that bad since forever ago and now of all fucking times was the day that I had to stutter my ass off. I seriously wanted to hit my head off the wall but that would be even worse than my apparent problem with talking.

Magnus didn't mention it out right but he cracked open an eye to give me a cat-like glance before shutting them again and asking, "Did you hit me?"

My mental train hit a cow and flew into a river full of snakes and sea monsters.

I knew what the answer was but those eyes haunted me even though their luminosity was hidden behind caramel eye lids. I couldn't just say Hell no man. I just tried to because I'm a nervous fucking wreck. Btdubs we should totally shack up. Minus the last part, I decided to edit and somehow get out a similar statement. Magnus just nodded and then sat still for a good long minute. Attempting not to be a total creeper, I took a look around the tent I had already been in multiple times before. Looking from a picture perched upon one of the many book stacks of a happy couple with a baby that I didn't know and had never heard any of the three talk about, to a gleaming violin lightly dusted with white rosin that I knew belonged to Jem. Finally, my gaze landed on a picture of the three of them, happy and on some bridge with the couple from the other picture, minus the baby, and a cat clutched tightly in Jem's arms. They all looked so young, eighteen at the most, and so different from how they looked now. A little thought pushed the back of my frazzled mind that maybe I was that different. I had no way to know and no one really to ask since the only people who knew me before I jumped the family ship and came to live with the circus were Izzy and Jace and how can you be a fair judge of change if you've probably changed yourself?

Magnus spoke up then, saying, "I'm not mad at you ya know."

How did you respond to that without sounding like a jack ass? I didn't know so I just sat there trying to imagine a way to respond but not coming up with anything especially considering I didn't know what I was trying to say. I hadn't thought about whether or not Magnus was going to be mad about making him go into a fit, or whatever the hell that was. I was just worried about making him better.

Magnus must have taken my silence for a no because he continued with, "Alexander, as much as I hate to say it as it is very out of character so please don't tell my fans, I couldn't be mad with you. For some reason even if you had square knocked me out for no apparent reason, I think I wouldn't be able to muster any pissed off juices for you. Do you kinda get where I'm going or am I just creeping you out. Both of which are completely possible but one is much more favorable so I hope you'll say the former…. Hopefully?"

My mental train that had managed to right itself onto the tracks again, fell into a black hole of sixth grade girl hell. I instantly started analyzing what he could have meant by that and if that meant he liked, liked me or if he was saying that in a deep friend sort of way or-

"You're not saying anything so I'm assuming it's the creepy way and there for I have to kill you because the public can never know that I didn't manage to be sarcastic, sexy, and sensitive for once." He laughed a little but then gave me a serious look, like I was the one who should be in the cot and not him.

I guess the drool that was probably hanging out of my mouth might have not helped my case but I snapped back into existence and said the one thing on my mind, "Don't call me Alexander. Just call me Alec."

That was obviously the most important matter at hand. God I was so clueless but Magnus smiled a tiny smile that spoke of fondness-or my very sudden desperate attitude. Seriously, when had I turned into this person hanging off of the hope that maybe everything Magnus did or said had a double entendre that was constantly saying yes I like, like you. Now get into my bed. Last time, I checked I wasn't like this approximately an hour ago. Had questioning my feelings seriously thrown me into a tail spin of desperation? If so I vowed right then and there, silently of course, to never question my feelings toward Cheetos puffs because god that would be ridiculous.

"I'm sorry, Alec. I don't know, I guess I just like the name Alexander, sounds powerful and wise I guess."

I laughed saying, "Powerful my ass. Sounds pretentious as all hell. Alexander Gideon Lightwood? No, I'm not that exciting or that big of a deal."

Magnus's face got serious and he locked eyes with me as he said, "I think you're a big deal. You're a lot bigger deal than you give yourself credit for, blue angel."

Now that wasn't just my dive bomber plane of desperation talking that time. A fucking nun would have considered that slightly flirtatious. Right? Of course!

I could see that Magnus was getting tired again so I decided, "Hey, you need to sleep. We have a big performance coming up. I'll make sure Will doesn't kill you because he thinks you're a six fingered troll or something."

Another smile and I got up and left, leaving Magnus lying down. I gave myself one last look at Magnus, who was so tall that the tips of his silver combat boots hung off the edge of the cot, before I slipped outside.

I was momentarily blinded by the switch from the single candle room to the rays of a fucking angel sun but my eyes eventually adjusted and I turned to the secluded area I had managed to swipe before the dick heads that washed the equipment placed their happy asses down. Walking across the dry grass, jeans and black sweatshirt making me uncomfortably hot, I again got lost in my personal thoughts. Again I didn't notice the people waiting outside of my tent until I got there.

Song For This Section~ Turning Tables by Adele (Honestly if you're ever going to listen to any of the music that I recommend, it's this song. I, just please go ahead and find it, please for me)

"Hello, Alexander." Clipped and controlled, just like the military cut to his black hair.

This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. How did they get here? My head reeled like the ground had been stolen from underneath me and my lungs choked up as if denying my body the right to live anywhere near the man who plagued my nightmares. I felt those eyes push down on me as my skin turned to ice and I felt it; that burning desire to appease him and make him proud. The kind of desire that had pushed people to insanity but unlike those poor beaten souls, I had figured out my father's big secret. No matter how much I tried, I could never please him, nothing would make his eyes shine with pride instead of the hateful disgust like they did right now. Nothing I could do. Nothing anyone could do. He was unmovable and unreachable on his cloud of selective acceptance; an area he only considered himself worthy of.

Staring straight back, my eyes meeting his without a waiver of worry for the consequences of my actions, I bit back a smile because I had figured it out. The beautiful lie that was my father was just that, a beautiful lie, and as I replied, I cocked an eyebrow silently challenging, silently saying, and "Am I more than you bargained for yet?"

"Father." I turned to face my mother standing a little off to the right. To the untrained eye she looked like she had just walked a little slower but I could see the slump in her shoulders and knew that the position was more defense than the fact that she was considerably shorter than her husband. My blood boiled as images of abuse played behind my eyes but I continued in the same flat tone as when I addressed the man who had caused her to cower, "Mother. I'm glad to see you. It's been too long."

My dad opened his mouth to spurt out some no doubt off hand slur about something in the general vicinity when my mother interrupted him in a small act of defiance. My heart warmed slightly but also froze solid in worry as she stepped forward with her back straight and confident and said in a quiet voice with a sad smile, "Alexander, I've missed you so much. My god it has been too long, far too long, and you're all grown up." Her smile faltered for a second before it fell back into place and she laughed a little. She continued again a second later, "You need a haircut though and you look a little pale. What's wrong?"

I thought about how exactly I should answer that. There was so many things wrong with what was going on right now and to pick just one would be a joke. Taking a little too long to answer though made both my parents eyebrows raise, all be it for different reasons, so I quickly blurted out the first thing that came to mind. My tried and true excuse for the years that I had been hulled up in the mansion on the upper east side.

"I'm just tired."

But then again, I was tired wasn't I? Tired of not being good enough. Tired of feeling like everything was my fault. Tired of pretending I was okay with what had happened. Tired of pretending I was just okay. Tired of pretending to lessen who I really was. Tired of bullshit cover ups for people whispering when they had no right to whisper. Tired of having to live off someone else's dollar even if that person didn't see the obvious debt owed. Tired of this place that was my salvation but also a constant reminder of why I needed salvation. Tired of myself. Tired of waking up every morning. Tired of this life that I had made.

So yeah, I was just tired.

My mom didn't look like she believed it and neither did my dad but Isabelle had come around some corner and walked into the firing line. I tried to give her a look that said Don't even think about getting in the middle of this but Izzy was Izzy and she didn't listen. She instead ran up and looped her thin arms around both of my parents. My father's look was priceless but as she let go, I saw a slight softening in the corner of his eyes that gave me hope that maybe he wouldn't screw with Izzy.

Unfortunately the same didn't hold for me because the second Izzy released him the flood gates of bull shit opened and he said after taking a look around and spotting Aline and Helen walking along, happy and holding hands, "This place obviously hasn't helped your unfortunate choice."

I don't know if it was just because today was just becoming ridiculous or whether I was actually tired of censoring myself for my dad's ignorance even though we hadn't seen each other in four years but I said in the flattest tone I could muster, "No it obviously hasn't since they have hot orgies every day. All of which include some very gay actions. Aren't you proud of me Dad?"

Red hot anger rose in my dad's eyes but I wasn't scared anymore. I ignored the hateful things he spotted because no matter what he said, as long as I didn't let it hurt me it wouldn't. Well that's what I told myself but being completely honest it hurt like a white hot iron when my dad finally let out a breath and spat on my shoe, with his last words being, "I didn't even want to come and I shouldn't have come. You disgust me. You're a useless faggot and that's all you'll ever be."

But I knew the secrets of my father now and I knew the one thing that would make him stop. I spat back with my own words only my words rang of the most truth I could muster.

"I know but I don't' care. I don't care what you call me or what you believe I am because I am so done with your ignorance. I'm done with all you crap. I'm done with this fake idea of who I should be because unfortunately I'm not who you think I should be. I'm so much better, "Turning to my mother I added, "I hope you can leave this jack ass because your better than him and you deserve so much more. Now if you can excuse me."

I pushed past them only to be stopped when I realized that I was leaving Izzy in the war path. I turned back to ask her to come with me but she was already gone.

Song For This Section~ Radioactive by Imagine Dragons (Please listen to this one for me too…)* Also I would like to thank David Fincher for directing such an amazing flick that has inspired the whole next section of terrible writing*

I didn't pay attention to where I was going for hours. Hijacking Izzy's pickup, I drove and drove, tears falling down my cheeks, unbidden be my and unfortunately uncontrollable. As brave a face as I had put on in front of my father, everything he had said had torn tiny holes in my chest. Leaving me like Swiss cheese, I felt broken and useless.

A poet once said that bad habits were tools to get us through life and unfortunately I needed something to get me through life right then. So I fell into not so much a bad habit like biting your nails but more like snorting glue level bad habit.

Of course I didn't know I was falling into my bad habit until it was too late and I was walking off of a subway I didn't remember choosing to get on. Following through, again without really thinking because the stress from the Magnus thing and just everything that had happened today had shut my brain down progressively until I was running on auto pilot.

Pushing through a jeweled curtain on to a bar I knew all too well, I walked past the long gazes and kept walking until I got to the six foot man with bright blue hair and a red jacket. One look, a whispered, "Ouroboros," on my part, and I knew I was in, a nod and a push door that unfortunately I pulled, a hall way, back door which I again pulled instead of pushed only now I didn't have an audience, a few alleys, another back entrance only now it was a warehouse, and I was welcomed into hell by its denizens.

It smelled like sex, money, and sweat, the smell of the lucky ones, the winners who could live another day and it was only permeated by the blood and tears of the losers. The smell of life, failure, and occasionally death.

The Pandemonium Club offered all the vices a young twelve year old needed. Drugs, sex, greed, and violence all held a strong grip on the constantly moving establishment but I had never partaken in three of the four.

No, the violence was my thing and seeing as how I had never lost a fight, I would say I did my thing pretty well. Standing at the edge of the circle, I watched as a man that looked as if he had been pulled out of a silent movie with his handle bar mustache was fighting a short, miniscule even, man. Instantly I knew that the little man would win. Unlike the other around of me who only saw the strength of Mr. Nosferatu but I saw the stance and structure of the other guys training and new that though it might take a while, he would win. I didn't have to wait long for my prediction to come true. The little man slammed both of his hands over Mr. Intolerance's ears before hitting his straight in his temple, effectively knocking him out.

After watching another few fights and slowly moving my way forward in the crowd, turning down a few offers along the way, I finally made it to the front and watched a few frat boys attempt to fight but not really do anything but look like scared little girls. Eventually the crowd called out for a size fire only it wasn't quite as eloquently put. A tense second to see who would take the death step into the ring and after a few seconds I collected myself and crossed over the line.

I wasn't waiting there for long because after a few seconds one of the frat boys from earlier stepped forward, gold hair stuck to the back of his neck and sweat glistened over his back and shoulders in the dim light from the stars through the open air ceiling. Cat calls arose from similar looking guys in a row up front shouting things like, "Yeah kick his ass Seb!"

Ignoring it all, I took off my sweater and squared my shoulders, fists up. I took the same position every time and apparently people had been haunting this palace if hell for longer than I had thought because from somewhere in the crowd I heard, "Aye ain't that the Lightwood kid?" A few more shouts of recognition and I knew my jig was up. They would kick me out which would probably be the best but I wanted to feel something in this numbness that seeped through the holes in my chest. Pain wasn't the preferable option but it would do. It was something, I knew and something I could work with.

I didn't want to go back to the field, back to people who wanted to talk. Back to people who meant well but didn't understand. No I needed this and I wasn't going to leave without my fight.

They didn't seem all that eager to pull me out though. After the few old timers started recognizing me, money started flooding down the line to a sleek suited Asian man with a hand full of cash and another hand in the air, that I knew, when dropped would single the start of my fun.

The guy opposite me gave me an up and down look before giving me a stupid look that read pure cockiness. I was going to have to readjust that.

A look to the man with the handful of cash and then the signal dropped.

I instantly sprung back knowing that with that cocky ass look that the first move was going to be made by him. Seb, or so the guys kept yelling, fell forward and nearly ate the floor but righted himself at the last second, grin still there but with a twinge of fear. Another swing, this time aimed for my stomach, and another fall forward. Everything seemed to slow down as I grabbed the back of his neck and flung him backwards, causing him to fall flat of his back and nearly out of the circle.

"Rule number one kid. Only three ways you can get out. You fall out the circle. People don't like you or you get knocked out. I guess you can die to but I'm sure you ain't that bad."

A distant memory now of a man's voice without a place able face but the words still rung true so with a final kick to the apparent golden boys chest and he was out of the circle. The second he was out, a friend came up who was just as stupid of a fighter. Another one who landed one punch but I nearly broke his nose.

One by one another and another man came forward. Some were short and some were tall. Some were actually experienced and others were just full of themselves but had never fought a day in their lives. I seemed to stand in the middle of that ring and with each fight I seemed to lose another bit of myself.

Finally, a guy with black hair, clean unlike most of the grease slicked men surrounding us, came into the circle and I felt it. That feeling you get at the peak of a roller coaster. That feeling that I knew I was going to fail.

The signal was given and the man opposite me made no move forward. The stale mate went on for a few seconds before in a blinding flick of legs; he fell forward and attempted to knock my feet out from under me. I managed to just barely move out of the way but I didn't stay perfectly on balance so I wasn't completely ready for the second attack. I felt the punch to my midsection before I saw his hands move. Pain rippled through my abdomens but it didn't stop me, it pushed my tired muscles into over drive and I quickly retaliated with a punch to his temple which connected but wasn't enough to knock him out.

Another punch landed but this time it was a direct hit to my eye. Pain boiled through my blood and I couldn't see with the tears pouring down my face. I had to do something I couldn't go out like this. I wildly flew my hands out no longer caring if I had proper for. I just wanted to connect my fist to something.

Flailing for what felt like minutes, while feeling the effects of a punch to my temple, my vision was slowly closing in and then I saw it. Through the darkness I saw my opening as he momentarily put his guard down to push hair out of his eyes and I threw my punch.

It hit home and with a solid thunk he went down. I didn't get to enjoy my triumph because as soon as the victory was mine I felt my knees buckle.

I blacked out with my vision filled with pools of green and gold.

_xxXxx_

Well that was unrealistic wasn't it…?

Agh well a very shitty 6,884 words but alas I hope it will hold you through for two weeks because that is my new update schedule (Which I'm just warning you I plan on keeping but let's be honest I probably won't)

I do promise to never ever, ever leave this story for over two months again.

That's just ridiculous.

Please, please review and tell me how you feel about me switching Pov's and if you like how Magnus and Alec's relationship is developing.

Thank you so much for reading this and happy trails my lovely Readers & Reviewers

~L.C