Okay. I am so sorry about this. I didn't even realize it had been so long. With November, I had NaNoWriMo, so I didn't post then, and I meant to in December, promise! I just…forgot. So, anyway, here's the next chapter. The end is really confusing, and I apologize for that. But remember, reviews fuel my fingers! Any theories, guys?
Alec stood on the other end of the door, just resting his head against the weathered surface, not moving. All that held him up were those puppet strings that had kept his smile. He could make it a couple steps to his room before he broke, he was sure of that. Still, he didn't feel quite right to start that journey back yet. Magnus had been there. Magnus had asked for forgiveness, denied all of Alec's accusations with point blank accuracy. He always knew exactly what to say when they were together; one of Bane's endless talents. Now, instead of stabbing him with each breath he took, his heart felt like it was melting, it was beating so quickly. Was it possible to actually spontaneously combust on the spot? Maybe he was shaking fast enough for that to happen.
Walking quickly, briskly, he pushed his way into his room. The door was painted a simple black, like most of the interior. Pushed into the far corner of the room was his bed, a dull black and white accented twin, with a single pillow tossed lackadaisically against on end. There was no headboard, so he alternated nights sleeping facing alternate directions. On the pillow was an almost permanent wet spot where he had put his head when he cried, that first night. Since then, he had discovered it was more effective to use the shower. Izzy had noticed when he had used the pillow. If he wanted to keep that door, he knew he'd have to use the bathroom. It was attached to his room with a similarly painted door to the previously mentioned one.
A tall wardrobe, a dark brown wood with Mark-like patterns winding up it stood in the other corner. A desk in the third. The rest of the room was empty, with a cream colored carpet. There was nothing besides a single picture of Max that defined it from any of the other rooms in the Institute. All the other things that he had reminded him of Magnus. He had gotten rid of it all, burned it in the library one night while Jace and Izzy had been out. Only Iz actually knew about the breakup; Jace was still oblivious. And it would be all the better if he never found out, thought that his brother was happy forever.
Jace wouldn't ask questions would he? Even that lovable blockhead had limits sometimes. Maybe he'd realize on his own, or after Alec got over him.
And when would that be?
Sighing, he collapsed on to the bed, subconsciously hoping to dream of Magnus tonight. He didn't even care that he was on the wrong end, with his feet resting on the damp pillow. He didn't even notice that his hair was still damp. What did it matter? The boy was bone tired. Something about all of this had just exhausted him more than normal, body and mind. Although thoughts and ideas and hopes and inspirations still raced through his head, soon enough, Alexander Lightwood was lying sprawled out over his covers and snoring lightly. Despite everything, he slept.
Magnus was tired. He was tired of everything there was, really. Of living with this heartache, with wanting Alec back. Would it all be better if he just went to sleep? He could deal with all of this in the morning. He felt as if his bones were already gone as he dragged himself back to the apartment. He didn't have enough energy left to open a portal, and after all, his house was only 5 minutes away.
Not at the rate he was going.
Could he help it if he was more tired than normal? The look on Alec's face when he opened the door, the way it fell instead of rose like it had before, still tugged at him. He looked like shit, but nobody noticed beyond the glamour he had just cast up around himself. It was weak, and any mundane could have seen through it if they had chosen to. He just had to make sure he wasn't bumping into anyone, and he'd be fine. God, was he tired.
20 minutes later, he shuffled into his apartment and discarded the sopping coat at the door. He was disgusting. He might not have smelled bad, but there was a voice arguing about whether or not that could count as a shower battling common sense in his mind. There, Magnus Bane had common sense. Why hadn't he earlier? Slapping him was definitely the best thing to do, you moron. But he had just…made him so upset. Saying all of that worthless denial stuff was enough to push anyone over the edge. He wanted to scream, to throw things against the wall like he had earlier. The warlock cast a longing glance over towards the empty-looking end table that had once held a 6th dynasty oriental vase. It was probably in the middle of a mundane junk yard right now.
The man ran a hand through his hair, noticing the repelling grime that came clean with his hand. That did not count as a shower, he decided. He would take one in the morning. How did that song from Annie go? Stupid little kid. Normally, he loved the musical with all of his glittery heart, but right now, just the idea of her optimism appalled him to the point where the T.V would end up with bright blue scorch marks if he watched it.
Now, more than ever, he had to work on controlling his magic. With his emotions raging all over the place, and his thoughts not doing much better, it would be all too easy for it to get out of control. If that happened, he'd either blow up the entire building, or it would be raining giraffes for the next couple of weeks. As an old and fairly powerful Warlock, it would most definitely be bad if his power exploded on him. He'd managed to keep it from happening to him for the most part throughout his life, never drinking too much, and always exuding little bits whenever he could. If a Warlock went too long without using his or her magic, it built up like water at a dam, and eventually, that dam burst. It could be compared to that- that was how the Silent Brothers had explained it to him all those years ago.
It had been a week since he had let out any magic. With a gasp, he summoned a blanket, feeling the rest of his cyanic blue sparks battling to come out of him with it. It was physically painful, swelling feeling that wasn't one mundanes ever had the pleasure of suffering through. Gritting his teeth, the Warlock stumbled towards the bed room. It was best to be lying down when it exploded.
He didn't make it.
A burst a bright blue light, and a silent scream accompanied Magnus as he stumbled, fell, and hit the ground. His vision swum with azure dots, weaving their way around the apartment. He couldn't tell whether they were magic, or just him passing out. He didn't have time to figure out which one it was before his eyes closed.
Alec saw Magnus smiling. That was how he knew right away that he was dreaming. Magnus wouldn't smile at him anymore, especially after today. That beautiful, crooked, confident grin that he could never help but notice. This dream Warlock had nothing on the real one. There was a glow that he just didn't have, that the real one carried around with him like a second skin. His magic? Maybe.
Magnus shook his head, confused about where he was. Their- his- apartment. Nothing was off about it, other than the fact that nothing was off about it. There were no empty bottles of liquor scattered around it, no wet coat, and no singe marks anywhere. He was dreaming. And of course, Alexander was right there. That made sense, that Alec would be in his dreams.
Magnus smiled, only to find himself looking straight at the man he saw every day in the mirror. He had 3rd person dreams every now and then, but this was plain weird. Without realizing it, he had started leaning into himself. He tried to pull back, only to find that he couldn't control his own actions, besides his eyes. Frantically searching for one of the plethora of mirrors scattered about the apartment, he glanced towards it. God, he was gorgeous.
He was Alec.
Alec smiled, inhaling the scent of his Magnus. This was a memory, a quaint one that Magnus barely even remembered. It was right after their second or third date, when they had decided to get thai instead of going somewhere fancy. Alec had insisted they do nothing special for him. And yet, Magnus could feel him almost purring with satisfaction. Although watching- feeling- his boyfriend as he leaned down to kiss him felt wrong, it gave him a spreading warmth to think that he had once made Alec this happy. Beneath it, of course, was the raging, coiling mass of discomfort that he had always known Alec carried around with him whenever they were together. This was all before the Accords Hall. No one knew about them.
Alec smiled fondly at the memory, enjoying his dream to the extent that he could. This was one of his favorites.
He woke up with a start as Izzy banged on his door.
Magnus jumped awake, feeling a more than a little confused.
He had just lived his own memory. As someone else. What was going on?
