Shame and Guilt

Slowly and rather reluctantly, Alec became aware of the morning sunshine filtering through the window, its rays caressing his face with warm fingers and illuminating the inside of his still closed eyelids. The morning light seemed to be calling him, beckoning him to leave the sleeping world and return to the waking one but Alec was still unwilling to join reality. Instinctually and still half asleep, he turned towards the side of the bed Magnus always occupied and brought his nose to Magnus' pillow searching for the scent of sandalwood, mountain air and caramel that was undeniably Magnus. When his nose registered the familiar scent, he inhaled deeply and then exhaled with a loud sigh, feeling at home in this bed, this room and this apartment.

Suddenly, a cascade of memories and images from the night before fell on him, like an unwelcomed rain that quickly turned into an icy torrent that jerked him from his half-asleep state and abruptly landed him into a reality of shame and guilt, his heart pounding in his chest. He opened his eyes with a start and looked around the room, searching for the familiar sight of Magnus and when he saw that the room was empty except for himself, he laid his head back on the pillow and with unusual roughness run his fingers through his messy hair as if wanting to pluck out of his head the memories that caused him so much shame and guilt.

His head hurt, and he was queasy, evident symptoms of a hangover, but the discomfort was nothing in comparison to the abyss that had opened in the center of his being, a vast and expanding emptiness eating up the pleasure he had felt a few seconds ago when he had inhaled the familiar scent of Magnus. "What did you do Alec?" he asked himself, shame and despondency overcoming and obscuring all other discomfort. He looked at his hands, those hands that until a few hours ago he had thought were incapable of betrayal, those hands that until a few hours ago had only touched one man in the way a lover touched the skin of another. He felt an uncontrollable impulse to get up, run to the bathroom, get under a hot shower, and scrub himself clean, erase from his body and his mind the memories and the knowledge of his betrayal.

The shame felt like sandpaper scrapping the inside of his entrails and the guilt seemed to be squeezing his chest, crushing him against the bed, cutting the air from his lungs. He was disgusted with himself for he had made a terrible mistake and there was no hiding from it. Loyalty and faithfulness had, together with honesty and love, always been cardinal points in his moral compass, they were the qualities that allowed others – Jace, his sister, the Shadowhunters under his command – to trust his leadership and follow him blindingly into battle. Yet, his unconscionable behaviour from last night had shaken this moral compass making him doubt his own sense of who he was, his own sense of self-worth.

He swung his feet off the bed and, turning, sat for a minute on the edge of the mattress, his head in his hands, recounting the events of the night before, each memory returning to him and hitting him like acid, burning him, eating him up, the hole in his center filling with dread. After a minute, he stood, put on his boots, and walked towards the bathroom where he splashed some water on his face. When he looked at his reflection in the mirror, his own eyes were full of reproach. "What did you do?" he asked his own reflection once again. "What are you going to do now?"

The questions hung in the air for a second, as if in search of answers, but Alec knew already what the answer was. He had to tell Magnus the truth, he had to confess his mistake and hope Magnus would forgive him. He owed him that much. "I am not a child," Alec had told Magnus the last time they spoke, right before he walked out on him. He had been angry and frustrated because he felt Magnus was patronizing him, dismissing his fears about what it would be like to live a mortal life with someone who was immortal, to grow old and become a burden to Magnus, an old man holding on to the arm of a young one. And, now he had gone off and behaved exactly like a child, done what he never imagined himself capable of doing. Alec sighed loudly and looked at his reflection one last time before turning and going in search of Magnus, resigned to his fate, knowing that there was no alternative but to tell the truth and hope for the best. As he walked out of the room, one memory kept playing in his mind: Magnus' clear and lovely voice telling him "I am a one-soul-at-the-time kind of man."

He found Magnus in the living room, looking out the window, lost in thought or perhaps in memories, a forlorn expression in his beautiful eyes and a slight bow in his back, as if he was carrying an invisible but heavy burden. Seeing him there, looking out towards the distance, Alec felt his heart sinking even further and a knot took residence in his throat making it even harder to breath or speak.

"Magnus," he called to him, his voice shaking. Alec wanted to approach Magnus, wrap his arms around him like he had done so many mornings before, bring his nose to the side of his neck and breath in his enticing scent, feel him relax against him, strong and soft, familiar and mysterious at the same time. He wanted to feel the magic energy that always emanated from Magnus, and that sometimes seemed to reach towards Alec and caress him with the tender touches of feathers. He wished with all his heart he could erase the last four days, or at the very least the last twenty-four hours, to erase the mistake he knew he could not run away from.

"Magnus," he called again, and this time Magnus turned and smiled. But despite Magnus' efforts, the smile did not reach his eyes, those eyes that now looked at him with unfathomable and haunting sadness. Magnus said something, but Alec didn't hear what it was, for a voice full of guilt and shame was screaming loudly in his ears, telling him to stay quiet, to not relinquish the secret of what he had done, to keep the truth of his betrayal to himself. For a split second, he was tempted to say nothing, to walk towards Magnus, wrap his arms around him and pretend that nothing had happened. But then he remembered that honesty was also part of his moral compass, that even if Magnus never found out what he had done, he, Alec, would know. He would carry the guilt of not only having been weak and untrue, but also of concealing his sin. That lie, that concealment born of shame and fear, would forever stain their relationship.

"Magnus, I have done something I am ashamed of," he said before he could stop himself. Before the voice in his head could issue further protest and weaken his resolve, he dislodged the words from his chest, forced them pass his throat and expelled them through his lips. As he said the words, he looked into Magnus' beautiful eyes, those eyes that reflected the morning light in tones of chocolate and coffee, and he understood that even before the words were out of his mouth, Magnus already knew what he was about to day. If he had thought he couldn't feel any more shame or guilt before, he now knew he had been wrong, for his words not only made his betrayal something real between them, something indelible and likely permanent, but now with his words, he was wounding Magnus.

"Who is it?" was Magnus's short reply.

Alec forced the breath he had been holding out of his chest and realized there was no other choice but to plow through and tell Magnus everything. "No one of significance," he replied even though he knew the answer was trivial and trite.

Magnus' face suddenly transformed from the sad face of a second ago, to a mask of fury. "I doubt it is someone of no importance considering how guilty you look right now Alec. Who. Is. It?" he asked again, pausing after each word as if wanting Alec to know that there was no escape from the question.

"Another Shadowhunter," Alec replied and as he said the words he saw Magnus' face transform once again from fury to profound sadness and dismay. Alec always thought that Magnus was the strongest person he knew. The warlock with his magical nature, and his hard and glittery exterior seemed to walk through life as if his feet were barely touching the ground, as if what happened around him was trivial, something of little concern to someone who had lived for so long and had seen so much. Nothing seemed to ever bother or surprise him much or for too long, and that was in part what made Alec feel so insecure and inexperienced. The world, his world, and what happened in it, were very important to Alec. Perhaps it was because he was young and had only one life to live, only one life to build and prove himself, while Magnus had many and would have many more. One day, Alec knew, he would be just one memory among thousands of other memories, one more memento in Magnus's chest of remembrances, and that made him feel small, insignificant, as if the love, the only love he had to offer, the only life he had to give were not enough. But now, his words seemed to crack Magnus' hard exterior and what Alec saw underneath was the sad expression of a vulnerable child. Alec knew that he would do anything and pay any price just to erase that look of vulnerability from Magnus' eyes.

"Another Shadowhunter," Magnus repeated bitterly, "I should have guessed. How long has this been going on? Is this the reason why you have been acting out lately?"

"I haven't been acting out Magnus," Alec said indignantly even though he knew he had no right to feel indignation. Magnus still didn't - or perhaps refused – to understand the struggle he was waging, the immense sense of despair that overcame him every time he thought of how short and insignificant his very mortal life was. How small he felt every time he thought of the hundreds of years Magnus had lived, of the many lives Magnus had touched, of the lovers that had come and gone the way he too had entered and would leave his life one day. Magnus didn't understand the jealousy that overcame him every time he thought of those things Magnus kept in his box of memories; every time he thought that perhaps what Magnus and he did when they were together, those feelings and sensations that were so new to him, were trivial to Magnus, for he had done and felt those things with those men and women whose memories he treasured so much. Magnus didn't understand how insecure he felt knowing that he, with his fragile mortality and his inexperience, could never offer Magnus anything new. "By the Angel, Magnus, why can you not understand how hard all of this is for me?"

"Oh, don't turn this on me, Alec; you won't get off the hook that easy," Magnus replied, the bitterness in the words souring the air around them. "You cannot throw the stone and now hide the hand, you owe me the truth of what happened. How long has this been going on?"

"There is nothing going on," Alec replied. "It was just one misstep, one mistake, one moment of stupid weakness." Alec knew that there was no way out; that now that some of the words were out, he had to spill them all, laid the whole story for Magnus to see, so he told Magnus everything.

The whole things had been stupid really and had begun innocently: the feel of a pair of green eyes on a golden face that followed him as Alec walked along the Institute's corridors, a pair of eyes that rested on his face a little bit too long before turning away. There had been nothing more to it, just curiosity and recognition in a pair of eyes, just the unexpected sensation of someone's attention; just the hint of longing in another's features. Underhill had arrived at the Institute a few weeks ago, on temporary assignment, part of his Shadowhunter training which required him to spend time away from home. Alec hadn't given the young man a second thought after their initial meeting, but then a few days ago, Underhill had come to his office and had told Alec that he felt honored to serve under his leadership; that Alec was an example; that because of Alec, he felt he could be himself, come out of the closet and live a truer life. The declaration had surprised Alec and left him speechless. He had never wanted to be an example to anyone. In fact, right then he felt like a poor example of follow, so full of doubt and insecurity, so weighted down by his own mortality and by his incapacity to come to terms with what he thought were the unsurmountable differences between him and Magnus.

"I was so upset after our fight," he now told Magnus, "I felt that you were not able to understand what I was feeling; I felt jealous, small and insignificant." Those feeling had felt like a dark cloud hanging above Alec's head, making everything feel grim, tainting every memory of him and Magnus in a grey hue. "Anyway, last night I went to the Hunter's Moon. I thought I would see you there, but you did not come, and I felt a mixture of disappointment and relief. I didn't want to fight anymore, I didn't want to feel what I was feeling."

Alec told Magnus that he had sat at the bar and had asked Maya to pour him a drink. He wasn't much of a drinker; alcohol always went quickly to his head and made him feel out of control. He generally drunk only when he was with Magnus or Jace because with them he felt safe; he knew they would make sure he didn't do anything stupid.

"You should have called Jace and asked him to come and rescue you before you did something stupid and childish," Magnus said reproachingly.

"It is not an excuse Magnus," Alec said before continuing, the word 'childish' threatening to ignite their old argument. "Anyway, before I knew it, I had had a few drinks and Underhill was there, sitting beside me and we were talking, and he was flirting and no one else beside you had ever flirted with me before, and I didn't know what to do, how to react. I was dizzy, angry and sad."

"I think you had enough," Underhill had said taking the last half-empty glass from Alec's hand, taking him by the arm and walking him out of the bar.

"I never truly understood how different Magnus and I really are," Alec had said when they were outside, the cool air hitting Alec in the face and intensifying his state of drunkenness.

"We, Nephilim, are a special kind of people," replied Underhill. "When we give our heart to someone, we give it completely, for ever, and without reservation. That is why it is so hard for us to fall in love with people who are not like us, who may not feel love the way we feel it. That is why it is safer and easier to love another Nephilim." Underhill had taken a step closer to Alec, and when Alec looked into those green eyes, all the anger, frustration and despair he had felt in the last few days, all the feelings of inadequacy and inexperience had rushed back. Before he knew what he was doing, he had grabbed Underhill by the front of his shirt and had pushed him against the wall in the alley outside the bar, and Alec's mouth had come down on the young man's lips, the kiss desperate, angry, frustrated. Underhill had grabbed Alec by the waist and had pulled him closer, their bodies almost crushing against one another.

That is all it had been, one kiss, nothing more. For as soon as his lips touched Underhill's lips, the kiss felt terribly wrong, as if it was sour or perhaps poisonous. In that instant, Magnus' lovely face came to Alec's mind, his laugh at something that Alec had said or done, those luminous cat eyes, which Magnus didn't feel the need to glamour anymore when it was just the two of them. That image that was permanently edged in Alec's mind suddenly sobered him up and he pushed Underhill away. "This is wrong, I am sorry, I shouldn't have done that," he said while with one hand he wiped his mouth as if wanting to erase the kiss, the mistake, the shame.

Underhill looked into Alec's eyes and his rejection, shame and regret must have been clearly written there because he quickly gathered himself, stiffen his back and told Alec not to worry; that it had been him the one to misread the signals; that Alec should not concern himself; that no one would ever know what had happened; that he was sorry. "It is me who has behaved unconscionably; forgive me," Alec hastily said and then turned and walked away, his heart pounding loudly in his chest.

"That is all it was, Magnus," he now told the warlock whose face had remained impassive, a dangerous current running underneath an apparently calmed surface. "That is all it was but still I feel terrible. Although I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, I ask that you give me a chance to prove to you that this will never happen again. Please Magnus," he added, his voice pleading.

Magnus took a deep breath and forced his face to soften and look at Alec indulgently, the effort visible even to Alec. "That is what I meant when I told you the other day that the reason you were struggling accepting the memories I hold of other lovers is because you are too young and inexperienced. I am your first relationship and, of course, it is normal to wish to experience other relationships, to be young and wild for a while. It would be unfair for me to begrudge you your need to explore life more fully. It is not like we agreed to be only with each other."

It was now Alec's expression the one that went from shame to fury. Magnus was once again reducing all their problems to his youth and inexperience; he was once again treating him like a child. "Magnus, I am not going to justify my actions because there is nothing I could say that could excuse my behaviour – it was unconscionable and unforgivable – but please stop treating me like a child. Stop saying that what I did I did because I don't know better, or that my struggles with your immortality and with the weight of your past are the result of my inexperience. I am not a child and I know better; that is what makes my mistake something I cannot forgive myself for, because I know how I feel about you. I know my own heart, what I feel for you is real. Stop trivializing it!" His voice grew in volume as he poured into it all the frustration he had been accumulating over days of seething anger. "And please do not act like you understand the reason why I did what I did; do not give me the 'I-understand-because-you are-too-young' speech, or act as if you need to indulge me like one indulges a child with a temper tantrum. Be angry at me, so I can know that I matter, that I am not just one more of the thousands of people you have been with. Please." The last word came out almost as a whisper, as a plea he didn't want to make but could help himself making.

"What do you want from me Alec?" Magnus asked, his voice carrying a mixture of despair and anger. "Do you want me to tell you that I cannot forgive infidelity? Well, I cannot forgive it. I had to suffer through it all those years that I was with Camille and I told myself that I would never put myself through that again. The only thing that is stopping me from throwing you out of my house right now is the conviction that you are young and inexperienced and that I have no claim over you, no right to stop you from living or to tie you down. But, god knows, I am having a hard time looking at you right now."

The words felt like a slap across Alec's face, a slap he knew he deserved but that still stank. "I am sorry Magnus, please know that I am sorry," he said and took a step closer to Magnus reaching for his hand. Magnus took a step back, and the gesture felt like a punch right to the center of Alec's stomach. At that moment, Alec felt like the world was crushing down, the sky falling down in sharp pieces that cut his skin on their way to the ground.

"I know you struggle with my immortality," Magnus went own. "I know you struggle with the fact that I have lived other lives before you, but my immortality is not a choice, while your behaviour was. You could have stopped yourself but chose not to. You resent the fact that I have loved others, but I never lied to you about that and I would have never been with anyone else while I was with you. What were you thinking Alec?"

"I wasn't thinking Magnus," Alec replied. "I didn't plan this. I was angry and frustrated, mostly with myself because I was the one with the issue. I was feeling diminished, small, insignificant and, for a split second, I wanted to feel like a man and not a boy. But I was mistaken. Please forgive me," he said once again. He didn't know how many times he had asked Magnus to forgive him, but he knew there were not enough.

"I don't know if I can forgive you right now Alec," Magnus replied. Throughout this whole conversation, he never called him Alexander, for that was the name that he had promised himself to only use in the gentle tone of loving moments, and this was not one of those moments. "I think you better leave now; I need time to process all of this, and you need time to decide whether it is me, all of me, immortality and all, you want to be with. Perhaps a relationship with another Shadowhunters, someone with less of a history, someone more like you, is what you really need."

"Magnus, come on, we can work through this," Alec said and took another step closer to Magnus, yearning for the touch of his hand, wanting to erase the look of betrayal and disappointment from the warlock's face.

"Please leave Alec," Magnus said, and he turned away from Alec and towards the window, his voice like a death sentence, final, and unmoving.

Alec let his head hang down his chest for a second, before he sighed, walked towards the door and left. Magnus turned when he heard the door close. He wanted to go after Alec, called him back, tell him that he forgave him, that it was not the mistake he had made the reason he had asked him to leave, but he called on all his powers to stop himself, to stay where he stood, his eyes on the door through which his happiness had just walked out.

Two days later, when Magnus was sitting on the sofa, his cat on his lap, his eyes lost in the distance as he contemplated the emptiness of his life, and the fleeting nature of happiness, his phone vibrated in his pocket making his heart jump with anticipation. He had been staring at the phone more and more often in the last couple of days, wishing that Alec would call him even though he knew he wouldn't. He knew that Alec would respect his request and stay away; the Shadowhunter was respectful like that and he would never want to intrude or impose. That was what Alec was like; he never thought himself important enough to be entitled to interrupt or impose. A few times in the last two days, Magnus had almost dialed Alec's number, but he had stopped himself. He had been a coward because he knew that as long as Alec stayed away, he, Magnus, would not have to come to terms with the fact that his heart was truly in danger when it came to the young Shadowhunter. He now took the phone out of his pocket, his hand shaking and as he looked at the screen, a message flashed on it: a message he had wanted so much to receive, a message from Alec. But the happiness was all too brief and quickly turned to sadness, regret and despair.

"Magnus, I am leaving for Idris. I hope one day you will forgive me," were the words he read on the screen. Each word a stab on his already broken heart. Just like that, Alec was gone, gone to where Magnus couldn't follow.

Sorry it took me this long to post a second chapter. Life is busy. This still needs some work, but I thought I would post it anyway.