Chapter Text
As a permanent resident of the Institute, there were a lot of odd things Alec Lightwood was willing to take in stride, however, three mundanes and a dog showing up on the Institute doorstep out of the blue was something special. There were two men and a woman and one of the men, the shorter, more clean cut of the two, was holding the woman up. “What-”
“She said you could help her.” The younger, taller man cut him off, eyeing Alec with a mixture of hope and doubt. He'd probably been expecting someone older. “She was scratched by a... a thing.”
“Ravager.” The man holding the woman announced, “She called it a ravager, I think.”
Alec's attention was drawn to the bleeding cuts on her leg, “You mean ravener? You were attacked by a demon?”
The shorter man looked hesitant, but his taller companion nodded quickly, “That's what Elizabeth said. She called it a demon.”
Alec hesitated, then stepped aside to let them in, “We need to take her to the infirmary. She's right, I can help, but we have to hurry, ravener poison will kill a mundane quickly. With scratches like those, it's a miracle she's still breathing now.”
The one man scooped her up, carrying her inside and following Alec as he rushed towards the infirmary. The other man trailed behind them, eyes darting around curiously, “What is this place? It looks like an abandoned building from outside.”
“It's warded.” Alec replied shortly, pushing the infirmary door open and motioning for them to put the woman on one of the beds, “It's supposed to keep mundanes out.”
“Mundane?” The younger man scowled, “Look kid, I'm not entirely sure what you're talking about, but mundane has never been a word anyone's used to describe me.”
“Neal, please.” The older man scolded, “Look kid, you said you could help my wife?”
“I'm not a kid...” Alec muttered under his breath, turning his attention to the woman. The wounds in her leg were deep, but would be easy enough to bandage if he could counteract the poison. The question was, how to do that without the use of runes, without killing the mundane. A glimmer of silver caught his eye and he reached for the item in her pocket, pulling out the silver and crystal Steele and turning it over in his hand. “Where did she get this?”
The older man blinked in confusion, “I've never seen that before.”
“She got it from the trunk under the bed.” The younger man, Neal, provided, “Why? What is that?”
“Possibly the beginning of an explanation.” Alec frowned in consideration, taking the Steele and pressing it to the exposed skin of her forearm beginning to draw a rune where he though he could see the traces of old scars, like she'd been runed before but it had been so long her pale skin had disposed of the evidence.
“What are you doing?” The older mad demanded, clearly alarmed, reaching for Alec's hand as if to stop him.
Alec knocked the hand aside, “Do you want your wife to live or not?”
He looked as though he might protest further, but Neal gave him a look, “Peter, maybe we should trust him. I mean, we don't seem to have another option.”
“Neal, he's burning her...!” Peter protested, though he trailed off as Alec finished drawing the rune. The improvement was immediately evident as colour returned to her cheeks and the wounds started to heal. “What did you do?”
“Iratze rune. For healing.” Alec provided, “More importantly, one that's working. But something tells me you're not aware of what your wife is.”
“El is an event planner.” Peter gave a scowl that Alec quickly matched.
“Maybe she is, but the fact that she survived a runing is definitive proof.” He announced, “Your wife is a shadowhunter.”