Chapter Text
Alec was unconscious for twelve hours after Clary’s rune.
It wasn’t unreasonable. He’d been under a lot of stress, and he hadn’t slept since the heavenly fire, and that much pain must have been exhausting, not to mention the… physical transformation from the rune, so there was really no reason to worry.
Magnus worried.
Jace and Izzy came and went, heading the institute together in Alec’s absence. Clary and Simon and Maryse dropped in sometimes, as they had while Alec had been burning, Marye hugging Magnus and whispering reassurances in his ear. (He didn’t know how she’d gotten in — she was technically a mundane now, after all — but nobody questioned her. That might have been because of the glare she levelled at anyone who looked like they might send her away.) Magnus and Jace spent a few hours sitting together on either side of the bed, until Jace was called away again. They talked of Alec, of how he’d been so much happier since Magnus came into his life, of the despair he’d felt when he’d traded away Magnus’s memories of him, of the way he’d give up anything — blow up the very ground he stood on — to make things right. Magnus hadn’t liked Jace all that much, thought him hard-headed and hot-headed and ignorant and arrogant, but hearing him talk about Alec… He truly cared for his parabatai, and that showed. There was a faint thought in the back of Magnus’s mind that they might be brothers, one day, and he didn’t mind it at all. He might even have been looking forward to it.
Magnus didn’t leave Alec’s side. He hadn’t left while he was lying there, literally on fire, and apparently on the verge of exploding with only Magnus’s magic and his own willpower holding him together, and he wasn’t about to leave now.
Wings or no wings.
Clary had been as surprised as him when the pure white, faintly glowing wings had burst from Alec’s back as the flames died down. Alec hadn’t noticed them, he didn’t think, since he’d fallen unconscious right after.
Clary had left, saying she was going to tell Jace and Izzy, and Magnus stayed there, still unsure if he could safely touch Alec. He summoned a piece of paper, scribbling a fire message to Helen — she’d need to check Alec over, see what had happened to the heavenly fire. (And why his fiancé had wings, although he wasn’t sure she’d know anything about that.)
Jace and Izzy burst in, immediately hurrying to Alec’s side. “He really has wings,” Izzy murmured. “I didn’t quite believe it at first.”
They’d both let out a breath when they saw that he was unharmed. Izzy had probably been blaming herself for letting Alec take on all the fire, maybe even for agreeing to share it with him in the first place, and Jace had been feeling some of Alec’s pain through the bond.
Alec had been curled up on his side, facing Magnus, when Clary had drawn the rune, and the wings had extended behind him and drooped gracefully off of the edge of the cot. Magnus had widened it, and then turned Alec onto his stomach with a wing extended on either side so he’d be more comfortable. Well, probably. He hoped.
The feathers looked soft, and Magnus wanted rather desperately to reach out and touch them, although he resisted for now. He wondered how they worked — he knew very little about bird’s wings, which was an inadmissible gap in his knowledge and would have to be rectified immediately, but would they need grooming? Could Alec fly?
Helen arrived, armed with a syringe to extract and run tests on Alec’s blood. She blinked for a moment in the doorway upon seeing Alec’s wings, but took it in stride, picking up a feather that had fallen out to test, as well. Izzy went to help her while Jace — with a heavy sigh — headed to Alec’s office to stop the Institute from falling apart too badly.
Magnus dozed lightly in his chair (he hadn’t slept at all the day before, instead spending all his time pouring magic into Alec), but when Helen came back and said Alec was safe to touch, he woke up enough to further widen the bed with a snap of his fingers and curl up next to his fiancé. He ignored her explanation about exactly what had happened, trusting Izzy and Jace to tell him later.
He’d woken up eight hours later, feeling refreshed, and listened as Izzy explained what they thought had happened. (Jace and Clary were nowhere to be seen.) Apparently, the heavenly fire had been running wild in Alec’s body, threatening to make him explode and not something that he could control. What Clary’s rune had done was make that fire a part of Alec, something that he could use and control — and the wings were a physical manifestation of that. There might be more consequences, new abilities like Clary’s or Jace’s, but that would need more studying and probably experimentation before anything could be confirmed.
Then, a few hours later, Alec woke up.
Magnus was sitting in the chair, holding his hand, when he felt Alec’s fingers tighten on his. “Alexander?”
Eyes Magnus loved more than any others blinked open. “Magnus,” Alec murmured, sounding parched. Reasonable, seeing as he’d been screaming for quite a while before he’d quieted down — nope, not going to think about that right now, Magnus reminded himself. He snapped his fingers, offering Alec a glass of water, which was quickly gulped down.
Alec hadn’t noticed the wings yet, apparently.
Then, he shifted slightly, and caught a glimpse of his wings over his shoulder. He turned his head, sitting up as the wing curved around his shoulder so that he could get a proper look at it. Magnus noted that the wing’s movement didn’t seem like a conscious choice of Alec’s, more of an instinctive obedience to his wish to see them.
A long pause. Finally, “I have wings?” Alec asked incredulously.
“It appears so, darling,” Magnus said. “They appeared when Clary drew the rune to control your heavenly fire.”
Alec nodded, still rather shocked, then latched on to the end of Magnus’s sentence. “The heavenly fire — what happened to it?”
Magnus explained, briefly, what he’d been told.
“Why didn’t you leave?” Alec asked suddenly. “You knew I was on the verge of exploding, but you stayed there—”
“I was trying to help you, Alexander—”
“I could have killed you, Magnus!” Alec burst out. His wings, behind him, flared and trembled slightly with the force of his emotion, and Magnus searched for the words to reassure him that he was here, Alec hadn’t hurt him, but Alec was speaking again. “I was struggling to hold it together, even with your magic helping me. I don’t know how long I would have held on, Magnus. And if you’d been hit with the fire, it would have killed you.” He stopped, dropping his head into his hands.
“I’m sorry,” Magnus said softly. And he was — sorry for causing Alec so much worry, at least, even if he didn’t regret staying to help him. He held out a hand to Alec, who took it.
Alec looked up at him. “To be fair, I’d be dead right now if you’d left me alone.”
Magnus took that as the decision to talk about this tomorrow that it was, and huffed, leaning forward to kiss him. It was a soft kiss, gentle, no more than a brush of the lips. A reminder that they were both there, and alive, and safe.
Jace, who had been asleep on a nearby cot between Interim Head of the Institute duties, yawned and then abruptly sat up. “Alec — you’re awake!”
Magnus pulled back, letting Alec turn to grin at his parabatai.
“Hey,” Alec said, holding out a hand. Jace hurried over to hug him, tentatively reaching his hands below the wings. Magnus leaned closer, too, and Alec reached out an arm for him.
The three of them held each other for a long moment. Magnus glanced up to get a faceful of feathers and chuckled when he realized that Alec had wrapped his wings around them. Inadvertently, judging by the embarrassment on his face.
Magnus kissed him on the cheek, and caught Jace looking at them with a small smile on his face. Then he straightened, remembering something alarming. “Izzy — if I don’t tell her you’re awake, she’s promised to feed me lunch—” and Jace, looking slightly terrified, hurried out of the room.
Alec laughed, still not releasing the arm around Magnus, although he opened his wings to let Jace pass. Magnus climbed out of his chair and onto the cot, because if they were going to cuddle, it had better be comfortable. Alec leaned back, too, putting one arm around Magnus’s shoulders and draping a wing over them like a blanket. It felt so safe, curled up there together.
Magnus spread his hand on Alec’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of it. He wasn’t wearing any rings except the Lightwood ring, and seeing it made his heart lift.
“We’re going to get married, Alexander,” he said softly. He could feel a grin tugging at his lips.
“Yeah,” Alec said, equally soft. “I mean — if you still want to—”
Magnus rolled his eyes, even if Alec couldn’t see him. “Of course I want to marry you, you stupid Nephilim.” He tilted his head up to look Alec in the eye. “I missed you so much, in Edom. Missed you even when I couldn’t remember who you were. And when Asmodeus was taunting me about you, before I took my memories back, all I could think was that someone had loved me so much they’d been willing to trade a relationship with me for my magic.” He paused. “I mean, that deal was a horrible idea and I’m much better off with you and without my magic than the other way around, but the thought is what counts.”
Alec looked like he was going to respond, but they were both rather tired and that conversation was for tomorrow. “We can discuss that later, however,” Magnus added.
Alec smiled softly, reaching up to interlace their fingers. Magnus’s eyes traced his hand, and then a thought struck him.
“Can I — would you like a ring, too?” he asked, almost tentatively.
He was rewarded with a brilliant grin. “I’d love that.”
Magnus snapped his fingers, conjuring an exact replica of his ring. (A truly exact replica — you could use either one to track the other extremely efficiently, plus it would also be possible to share strength through the ring. And, of course, they matched. He was cheesy and romantic. Sue him.)
Alec held out his hand. He looked — awed, almost, like this was all he’d ever wanted, and Magnus could empathize. He felt the same way.
His glamour had dropped at some point, but he didn’t put it back up. He was in the middle of the New York Institute, and yet, in Alec’s arms, he felt the safest he’d ever been.
Alec didn’t wear jewelry, although Magnus had been hoping to wear him down. The ring, however, seemed to fit him naturally — the harsh lines that contrasted with Magnus’s usual style were perfect on him. But most of all, the ring was something Magnus loved for what it represented: Alec was going to marry him.
With everything that had happened in Edom, Magnus doubted whether anyone had seen that he was wearing Alec’s ring. He wondered how the Lightwoods would react to knowing that they were engaged — Izzy would probably be happy, Jace too, but Maryse? Max?
The infirmary door burst open, announcing Izzy’s arrival. “Good to see you’re awake, hermano,” she said. And then, her sharp eyes immediately noticing Alec’s and Magnus’s rings on their entwined hands, “Is that what I think it is?”
Alec grinned. “Well, if you’re thinking that I’m going to marry the love of my life, then yes.”
She grinned, hurrying over to the bed. “Finally. I’ve been waiting so long to have a brother who actually understands makeup.” Completely ignoring Alec, she reached over to draw Magnus into a hug.
Alec made offended noises, although he couldn’t really argue with that. Magnus — Magnus could barely breathe for the lump in his throat. Alec loved him, considered him family, and he had his own family with Cat and Raphael and Madzie, but Isabelle’s easy acceptance as her brother —
He didn’t actually start crying on Izzy’s shoulder, but it was a near thing.
“I’ve never had any siblings,” Magnus said softly when she pulled back. “Friends, sure, but — it’s not really the same.” He looked up at her, glamour still down. She met his eyes unflinchingly. “I would be honoured to be your brother.”
Magnus felt a tell-tale wetness in his eyes — there go my plans not to cry — but Izzy’s eyes were watery, too. “I will be honoured to be your sister,” she returned, hugging him again.
Somehow Maryse managed to get in again. She hugged her son, asking him if he was alright, and then saw the rings on their hands. Magnus froze for a moment, but Maryse actually beamed and hugged him, too. (Magnus may have cried. Slightly.) Then she chivvied Izzy out of the room, suggesting they leave the “two lovebirds” alone — she actually called them that, and in a warm, loving voice no less, which nearly made Magnus cry some more.
Alec grinned at him, wrapping him back up in his wings. Again, it seemed vaguely unintentional, but he certainly wasn't complaining, and they’d just gotten engaged, and they could figure it out tomorrow.
They had quite a bit of… stuff… to discuss, tomorrow. The deal Alec had made, why he’d made it and why that was not an acceptable solution. That he should talk to him, if something like that happened again, and certainly not make a deal with a greater demon. They’d need to talk about what Alec’s wings meant, figure out what they could do, what other consequences there might be of Alec’s heavenly fire. What the Clave would do. Talk about how Alec should have told somebody about the heavenly fire, how they could have found another solution. About how Magnus had made the choice not to leave Alec’s bedside.
There would probably be tears, there might be pain, but they would come out the other side so much stronger.
And it wasn’t like they had nothing but the bad to speak of. They were getting married, and Magnus had the feeling that Alec didn’t quite grasp how much he meant to him, so that would have to be fixed. They were going to spend a lifetime together, perhaps adopt a few kids, have a family together, and Magnus’s future had never seemed so bright. (The short-term future, at least. Magnus did not think about what would happen in another fifty years.)
Here, curled up to Alec’s side, wrapped in his wings and in his arms, Magnus was perfectly, blissfully content. Nightmares might come to torment him with the almost-disasters, but Alec would be there to hold him when he woke up. And hopefully hug him with those wings, too, which was apparently something Magnus hadn’t known he wanted.
Alec yawned, sleepy, and Magnus was quite willing to take a nap. (Or sleep for ten hours. Either one was fine.) Tucking his head into Alec’s neck, he pressed a kiss to his collarbone, feeling the safest he’d been in as long as he could remember.
Magnus fell asleep, secure in Alec’s arms.
He was home.