A/N: Hello supernatural fans/shadowhunter fans. As usual all the thanks and appreciation goes to whoever is reading!
Carry on wayward supernatural fans and safe patrol shadow hunters.
Andra wiped the sweat from her brow, the clang of weapons echoing through the empty training room. She was alone, just the way she preferred it. It had been a few weeks since that fateful night at Pandemonium, when the alcohol had loosened her tongue and she'd spilled her secrets to Jace—about being a fae Shadowhunter, about her childhood with Valentine. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet the weight of those confessions still pressed down on her.
Addy had offered to spar with her, but Andra had shooed her away. "Go have fun with Izzy," she had said, a fake cheeriness in her voice. "I'll just be here, practicing my brooding and existential dread." And now, in the solitude of the training room, the only company she had was the echo of her own thoughts.
The door creaked open, and Alec stepped in, his expression serious. "Hey, Andra," he said, his tone almost hesitant. "Can we talk?"
"Sure, just as long as it doesn't involve discussing my life choices or the impending apocalypse," she replied, her sarcasm slipping out easily. But inside, her heart sank. She could already sense where this conversation was headed.
"I wanted to talk about Magnus," Alec said, shifting his weight as he leaned against the wall. "I'm thinking of asking him to marry me."
Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. Magnus. The man she had been secretly in love with for years—his charm, his laughter, the way he made everything feel lighter even in the darkest of times. She forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "Oh, that's great, Alec. Really, it is. I'm sure he's just dying to hear you pop the question."
He chuckled, oblivious to the turmoil brewing inside her. "You think so? I mean, it's a big step."
"Yeah, because nothing says 'I love you' like a proposal. Just make sure you have a ring that matches his fabulous wardrobe," She tossed back, her tone light but laced with bitterness.
He met her gaze, his brow furrowing slightly. "You're being weird. What's up?"
She shrugged, trying to push down the rising tide of emotions. She couldn't let him see how much this hurt, how the thought of Magnus marrying her brother felt like a dagger to her heart. "Nothing, just a little jealous of your happy ending, that's all. I'm sure you'll throw the best wedding in Shadowhunter history."
Inside, her thoughts spiraled into darker territory. What would Alec think if he knew her secrets? That she was half fae? That her childhood had been spent under Valentine's twisted care until she was twelve? And, worst of all, that she had harbored feelings for Magnus, feelings that made her heart race and her stomach churn? She could imagine Alec's reaction, his disappointment, his concern. Would he feel betrayed? Would he look at her differently?
"Are you sure you're okay?" Alec pressed, his concern evident. "You've been kind of distant lately."
"Distant? Me? Never," she shot back, but the sarcasm felt hollow. It was a mask, a shield against the vulnerability that threatened to spill over.
Alec studied her for a moment, and Andra felt her heart race. Did he know? Had he noticed the way her eyes lingered on Magnus, the way her heart skipped when he entered a room? The thought made her stomach twist. "You know, if you ever need to talk about anything—"
"Right, because I'm just bursting to share my deepest, darkest secrets," she interrupted, trying to keep the mood light. "What happened to all that brotherly support? You know, the kind that doesn't involve a wedding planner?"
Alec frowned, clearly sensing her evasion. "I just want you to be happy, Andra. You know that, right?"
"Sure, happy as a clam in a sea of chaos," she replied, rolling her eyes. But inside, she felt the tension ease just a little. Even if he didn't know everything, he still cared.
As they stood there, the air thick with unspoken words, Andra couldn't help but wonder if Alec had truly noticed her feelings for Magnus. If he had, would it change how he viewed her? Would he still be able to support her if he knew the truth?
"Listen, I'm happy for you, okay?" she finally said, her voice softer. "Magnus is a great guy. Just… don't mess it up, or I might have to kick your ass."
Alec smiled, his tension easing. "I won't. And hey, if you need a plus-one for the wedding, just let me know. I'll make sure to save you a seat right next to the cake."
Andra chuckled, the laughter bubbling up despite the ache in her heart. "Sweet of you to offer. I'll be sure to bring a fork and a whole lot of sarcasm."
As Alec turned to leave, Andra felt that familiar wave of loneliness wash over her again. She was always the emotional support, the one who held everyone else up. But who would hold her up when her heart felt so heavy?
With a sigh, she returned to her training, the clashing of weapons echoing in the silence that followed. She had a long way to go before she could face the truth of her own feelings, but for now, she would keep fighting—both in the training room and in her heart.
As Andra resumed her training, the clang of steel against steel reverberated through the room, but her mind drifted far from the sparring mat. She couldn't shake the image of Dean Winchester from her thoughts. Every time she tried to focus, his face would flash in her mind—a mix of determination and that devil-may-care smirk that seemed to slice through her resolve like a hot knife through butter.
What was it about him? He was infuriating. He swaggered into a room like he owned the place, all charm and bravado, as if the world was his personal playground. And yet, beneath that surface, there was something deeper, something that tugged at her curiosity and her frustration in equal measure.
She swung her sword with more force than necessary, imagining it was Dean's face she was aiming for. How dare he waltz into her life, flashing that grin, making her feel things she didn't want to feel? The nerve!
Andra could still hear his voice, teasing and light, challenging her as if she were just another hunt.
"Who does he think he is?" she muttered under her breath, her breath hitching as the sword clanged against the training dummy with a satisfying thud. The dummy didn't have a smirk, but it would do. "Some kind of hero? He doesn't know anything about me."
The anger bubbled up inside her, hot and fierce. How could he act like he had it all figured out when he didn't even know the half of it? The secrets she guarded, the weight of her past—it felt like a fortress around her heart, and here he was, casually tossing grenades into her carefully constructed walls.
The truth was, Dean had a way of making her feel seen, but it also made her feel exposed. She didn't want him to see her struggles or the shadows lurking behind her facade. Why did he have to be so good at breaking through her barriers?
As she moved through her training routine, the rhythm of her body clashing against the dummy mirrored the tumult in her mind. Each strike was a mix of frustration and longing, a battle between wanting him to notice her and wanting to push him away. It was easier to be angry, easier to keep him at arm's length. If she let him in, if she allowed herself to care, it would just complicate everything.
But the truth was, she was tired of being angry. Tired of pretending that his presence didn't affect her. Each time he walked into a room, it was like the air shifted, charged with something unspoken and electric. It made her heart race and her thoughts scatter.
With one final, powerful strike, Andra paused, panting heavily, her sword hanging limply at her side.
She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts swirling in her mind. "Focus, Andra. You've got enough on your plate without getting tangled up in feelings for a hunter who probably doesn't even know you exist beyond a passing glance."
But the anger simmered beneath the surface, a reminder that she had to keep her guard up, even against the most infuriatingly charming man she'd ever met. With a determined breath, she returned to her training, each swing of her sword a promise to herself that she wouldn't let anyone—especially not Dean—distract her from her.
Andra wiped the sweat from her brow, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins as she stepped out of the training room. The echoes of clashing steel faded behind her, replaced by the familiar hum of the Institute. But her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts—thoughts of Dean and Magnus that twisted together in a chaotic knot.
Dean was like a storm, wild and unpredictable. Every time he grinned that cocky smile, it was like thunder rumbling in her chest. She had spent too long pretending his presence didn't affect her, that she could laugh off his teasing and brush aside the feelings he stirred within her. But every moment spent in his orbit made it harder to deny the truth. He made her feel alive in a way that both thrilled and terrified her, and she hated that he had that power over her.
And then there was Magnus. The warlock with the allure of a thousand secrets, whose very being seemed to shimmer with magic and mystery. She had been in love with him for years, the kind of love that felt like a fantasy, beautiful yet dangerously out of reach. Every shared glance, every lingering touch, sent her heart racing. But the truth hung over her like a shadow—she could never tell anyone. Not Alec, not Addy, not even Izzy. The thought of revealing her feelings felt like opening a floodgate she couldn't control.
What would they think of her? A half-fae Shadowhunter mooning over her brother's boyfriend? It was a recipe for disaster, and she wasn't about to become the center of some family drama. The last thing she needed was to complicate the already tangled relationships in her life.
Sighing, she stepped into the corridor, her thoughts still entwined with the two men who occupied so much of her mind. As she rounded a corner, she collided with someone—Jace.
"Oh, hey!" she exclaimed, stumbling back slightly but quickly regaining her balance. "Didn't see you there, blondie."
Jace grinned, his trademark smirk in place. "Well, you should probably pay more attention. You never know when a handsome Shadowhunter might appear." He raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "What's got you so distracted? More training? Or are you finally going to admit you've developed a crush on someone?"
Her heart raced, and she felt heat creeping up her neck. "Definitely not the crush thing," she shot back, crossing her arms defensively. "I'm just trying to keep my skills sharp, you know. Can't let the fae blood make me soft."
His gaze sharpened, something in his expression shifting. "Right. Because you're so concerned about keeping up appearances with the fae. What about Dean? You keep dodging his advances."
She cursed internally. Why did Jace have to be so perceptive? "Dean? Please. He's just a distraction, off on some sort of hunt," she said, forcing a laugh. "Too charming for his own good."
"Charming, huh?" Jace leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a knowing look on his face. "Or maybe you just don't want to admit that he gets under your skin."
Andra felt her frustration bubbling to the surface. "I'm not in the mood for your psychoanalysis, Jace," she snapped, the words escaping before she could reel them back in. "I'm fine. Just busy with training."
He raised an eyebrow. "Right. And I'm sure that's why you're looking like you just walked off a battlefield. You've been avoiding everyone, Andra." His tone softened slightly. "What's really going on?"
She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Nothing's going on, Jace. I promise. Just… stuff to deal with."
"Stuff?" He echoed, his expression serious now. "You can talk to me, you know. I'm your friend."
She looked away, biting her lip. "I appreciate it, but some things are just… complicated."
"Complicated how?" His gaze pierced through her defenses, and she felt like he could see right into her soul. "Is it Dean? Or Magnus?"
She inhaled sharply, her heart racing. "Why does it have to be about them?" she shot back, frustration spilling over. "Can't a girl just have a little mystery in her life?"
Jace chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling. "Mystery is great and all, but you don't have to shoulder it alone. Just remember, you're not the only one with secrets."
Andra's breath caught in her throat. She wanted to believe him, but the fear of exposing herself was paralyzing. She couldn't risk losing her brother's trust or the delicate balance of their lives. "Thanks for the offer, Jace. Really. But I'm fine."
He studied her for a moment longer, and for a fleeting second, she thought he might press further. But then he shrugged, stepping back slightly. "Alright, but if you ever need to vent or throw something at Dean, you know where to find me."
She managed a small smile, grateful for his presence even if she couldn't share her truth. "I'll keep that in mind. Maybe I'll even take you up on the throwing part."
As Jace headed down the hallway, Andra let out a shaky breath, her thoughts swirling once more. She had to keep her secrets locked away, but the weight of them felt heavier with each passing day.
Andra leaned against the cool stone wall of the Institute, letting the weight of her frustrations slip away for just a moment. She had been lost in her thoughts about Dean and Magnus—thoughts that churned like a storm inside her—when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and her heart lifted a little when she saw Emma's name.
"Hey, Andra!" Emma's voice came through, bright but laced with an undercurrent of frustration. "You have to help me. I just had the worst argument with Julian."
"Of course," Andra replied, her mood shifting as she straightened up, instantly ready to switch gears. "What happened? Did he refuse to share his snacks again?"
Emma let out a huff of laughter, but it was tinged with annoyance. "Worse. We were talking about Mark and Kieran, and I just… I don't know, I snapped. I told him he was being too protective, and he took it way too personally. Now he's sulking in the library like a brooding poet."
Andra couldn't help but smile at the mental image of Julian, dark and brooding, probably surrounded by books and a scowl that could rival any tortured artist. "Classic Julian," she said, her tone light. "What do you mean you snapped? Did he actually do something wrong, or was it just classic Julian being… well, Julian?"
Emma sighed dramatically. "It's just… I know he's trying to look out for Mark, but it feels like he doesn't trust me to handle things. I mean, I've been around the block a few times, you know? I can handle my own life without him treating me like I'm some delicate flower."
Andra nodded, feeling a surge of empathy for her friend. "Well, you're definitely not a delicate flower. More like a spiky cactus, really. But I get it. Julian is just trying to protect you. He probably thinks he's doing the right thing."
"Yeah, but sometimes he needs to remember that I'm not a damsel in distress," Emma replied, frustration bubbling through her voice. "I want to be part of this, not just someone he has to keep safe."
Andra's heart ached a little at the thought of Emma feeling sidelined. She remembered the first time she met Emma and Julian. It was a whirlwind of emotions back then, just after Mark had returned from the Wild Hunt. Andra had been on her travel year, and had stumbled into their lives at the most chaotic moment.
She had found herself drawn to their dynamic, to the way they supported each other while navigating the complexities of their lives. As Mark struggled to find his footing, Andra had stepped in, offering a listening ear and a bit of clarity. She had seen how Julian's protective nature often clashed with Emma's fierce independence, and she had tried to help them find common ground. The three of them had forged a bond that had felt so natural, so right.
"Remember when we all got together to talk about Mark's return?" Andra said, her mind drifting back to those moments. "You and Julian were so nervous about how he would fit back into the group. I couldn't believe how much you both cared."
Emma snorted. "Well, it was all very dramatic. You were like our emotional support animal, helping us figure things out."
"Hey, I'll take that title," Andra laughed, trying to shake off her own feelings. "But honestly, you two are like a pair of puzzle pieces. You just have to learn how to fit together without forcing it."
"Ugh, I know," Emma groaned. "It's just frustrating. I want to be there for Mark, but Julian's always in the way, like a knight guarding a castle."
"You're both allowed to have your parts in this," Andra encouraged, her voice firm. "Julian needs to understand that you're capable of handling yourself, and you need to reassure him that you can still support each other without him hovering all the time."
Emma sighed again, but this time it sounded lighter. "You always know just what to say. Maybe I'll go talk to him. I just wish he wouldn't sulk like that."
Andra smiled, feeling a rush of warmth. "You've got this, Emma. Just remind him that you're a warrior, not a porcelain doll. And if he doesn't get it, I'll come over there and give him a piece of my mind."
"Deal," Emma said, her spirit lifting. "Thanks, Andra. I really appreciate you being there."
"Anytime," Andra replied, a sense of satisfaction filling her as she ended the call. Helping Emma felt good, like a balm on her own frayed emotions. It was easier to focus on someone else's problems than to confront her own tangled feelings about Dean and Magnus.
As she put her phone away, Andra took a deep breath, feeling a flicker of purpose. She could be someone's emotional support. She could help her friends navigate their drama while she kept her own heart locked away. For now, that was enough.