"Do you think they'll be alright?" Alec asked, not for the first time. He knew he was worrying unreasonably - not because there wasn't anything to worry about, but because there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening.

Magnus sighed and ran his hand through the Shadowhunter's hair. They were sitting together on Magnus' couch, Alec curled up against Magnus' side, Magnus with his arm around Alec. He was protective of Alec and it worried him. Even now, when he should be annoyed that the boy's affections were torn, that he was distracted, that his attention was clearly focused on his friends who were off on their fool's mission to the Seelie court, Magnus was worried that Alec was worried. God. He was falling far too hard, far too fast.

He'd thought this would be light; them sitting on the couch together watching Gilligan's Island, maybe making out, enjoying each other's company. He'd thought this whole thing would be light; light flirtation, light dalliance. But the sunlight coming in through the slit in the drapes over his windows hit Alec's eyes and made them glow an impossible blue that seemed to sum up all of Magnus's feelings: the impossibility of this romance and the purity of it. Well, purity might be too strong of a word, Magnus thought, suppressing a smile. He was only a warlock, after all.

"I am sure they will emerge alive. I've pretty much bet my life on it, haven't I? Exchanging Jace for you is risky for me if he doesn't come back. Although, I have to say, I'm enjoying the benefits of the trade. I think I got the better half of the deal."

Alec didn't smile. Magnus sighed again. "Look, Alec, kitten, the Queen is... dangerous, but she's not evil. Not exactly. She doesn't want to kill your friends. They don't mean enough to her. Not at the moment anyway. If any of them ever becomes important enough to make her think twice about them, God help us all."

Alec could not just ignore the fact that Magnus had called him "kitten." It summoned up all kinds of weird feelings he didn't want to think about at the moment. He curled up closer to Magnus and let the warlock's scent of some sort of ethereal perfume wash over him as he faced the TV. It was playing but with the sound off. He could hear Magnus' heartbeat under his ear where he pressed against his body and he frowned because even this could not distract him entirely from worrying about Jace and Isabelle. And, if he was forced to admit it, Clary and Simon. He didn't like to think about the latter two, but, yes, he worried.

Alec had drifted off to sleep for a little while, Magnus' hand still twisted in his hair, relaxed for once with the TV playing reruns or whatever Magnus directed it to play. It was nice. It was sort of a Mundane thing, he thought, sitting here with Magnus' arm around him. It must be what normal couples did.

His phone ringing woke him. He fumbled it out of his pocket groggily, against Magnus' grumbled protests as he jostled him. He didn't even say hello before Jace was talking to him, fast, quiet, and urgent.

"What?" Alec said. "Simon? But he was with you." Simon - a vampire? He was the closest thing to normal that any of them were. Not that Alec had particularly liked the Mundane, but...

"It's a long story," Jace said into the phone. "Meet me at the Jewish cemetery. Bring blood." He hung up. Alec stared at the phone for a moment, his heart pounding. Jace had sounded so tense. Almost... Almost scared.

"We have to go," he said to Magnus, getting up and looking around for his jacket.

"Alec, what happened?"

"It's Simon. I don't know how, but he's... he's been turned."

"Turned?"

"Into a vampire."

Magnus stared at him for a minute, blinking slowly. "Well," he said. "That does complicate things."

Alec glared at him. "It's not funny," he said. "He's just a Mundane. He's just a kid, and-"

"He's not much younger than you, Alec."

Alec stopped. He felt frozen. They didn't discuss age. They didn't talk about that, and here it was, so close to the surface, just a few words from opening up a subject that might rip Alec to shreds. He was just a kid to Magnus. They were all, really, just immature playthings that he could pass on. Pass by. Hundreds of years were between him and the warlock. A few words, and it could all come crumbling down. He swallowed. Magnus was unreadable. He wouldn't argue. Not now. "We have to go," he said again, and turned away.