Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Magnus closed his eyes and took a deep breath of cool morning air, leaning against his balcony railing with coffee in hand. He had a few moments before his first client would arrive, and while he didn't anticipate the job taking up too much time or effort, he intended to enjoy the peace while he could. The individuals that tended to request the services of a High Warlock were rarely a calm bunch.

Case in point: Magnus was just finishing the last of his coffee when a loud, insistent banging started at his door. It seemed his client had arrived both disgustingly early and in a great hurry.  Magnus rolled his eyes and headed to the door, making a point to take the time to drop his mug into the kitchen sink on his way, despite typically preferring to handle such things with magic. Really, a routine translation did not warrant taking his door down.

Once he had the door open, however, Magnus' eyes narrowed. In front of him was not the client he was expecting.

"Maryse," he grimaced. "I thought I told you—"

"I recall," Maryse bit out a tad desperately. "We need your help. We'll pay."

Magnus was stunned into silence; even he knew that to see Maryse Lightwood in any way other than absolutely in control, of herself if nothing else, was a bad sign. He glanced behind her at her husband, standing further back in the hall with a covered, wiggling bundle in his arms. A small, weak moan of pain coming from the bundle finally broke him out of his daze and he stepped back to usher the Lightwoods into his home.

"This needs to be quick, and it's going to be expensive," he muttered, ushering them into the sitting room. "What seems to be the—oh, dear."

Robert had uncovered his bundle, pushing the blanket away from the head of a little boy, no older than six or seven, Magnus guessed. The boy was flushed, panting and seemingly barely holding off sobs as he clutched at Robert's shirt, pressing his face into his father's chest. The dark hair gave it away: this was the Lightwood boy.  

The boy was shirtless, and Magnus found his eyes glued to his back. The expanse of it was an angry red, and from his shoulder blades to near his hips were two large masses of… something under his skin. Up towards his shoulders was the worst of it; the bulging masses were clearly proving to be too much for the boy's thin skin, and it was stretched to a dark, purplish red, bleeding where it had begun to tear in some places.

Magnus swallowed and held out his arms. "Hand him here." When all he received were mistrustful glares, he said, "This is going to get much more painful before it is through, and I can take away some of the pain." He had seen this before, many years ago, though he hoped for the boy's sake it was something different. If his suspicions were correct, this boy was destined to become a pariah, at best. He didn't want to consider the worst case scenarios. While Shadowhunters might not be very high on his list of people he enjoyed being around, it was hard to harbor the same ill-will against a suffering child.

When he finally had him in his arms, Magnus carried the surprisingly light child to the couch and sat, gently, setting him on his lap and letting him lean against his chest. He rested his palm against his lower back, rubbing slowly and soothingly as he let his magic run through the boy.

"There you go," Magnus murmured as he felt the boy shudder and relax in relief. "A little better now, hm?" A small nod as he stared up at Magnus in wonder. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Alec," he whispered.

"Alec, I'm Magnus. I'm going to help you through this, okay?" Another small nod. Magnus turned to his parents. "Why did you wait so long to seek help? Things like this don't just spring up overnight."

Robert winced. "We were called away and he hid it from his minder."

Magnus looked at the two incredulously. What kind of care was this boy in that something like this was easily hidden? He felt a tug on his shirt before he could question them further, though Maryse's glare told him all he needed to know. He looked down to see tearful eyes looking up at him.

"Am I going to die?" Alec asked softly.

Magnus' eyes widened. "Dear lord, no. You're going to be just fine, I promise. It might take a while, and it will be a little scary, but you'll be okay." He let out a relieved breath when this appeased him, watching as Alec accepted his assurances and settled against Magnus' chest.

His parents were not so easily calmed.

"So you know what's going on?" Maryse demanded, watching the interaction rigidly from the doorway.

"I have my suspicions. If you two will give me a moment to do some assessments, I can give you a more concrete answer." To his relief, Maryse acquiesced with only slightly obvious internal debate, her husband trailing behind her to another small couch.

When he figured he could be sure they would stay put and behave while his focus was elsewhere, Magnus closed his eyes and murmured softly in a language few knew, casting his magic outward toward the small being in his lap.

Magnus slowly reached into the boy and searched. There was the fear, and further, the childish joy and love that had yet to be snuffed out by the harsh lifestyle he was born into, but further down… Further down was Alec, the essence of the person in his arms at the basest level, what he was made of. Magnus was aware of the angelic power flowing through him typical of a Shadowhunter, the hints of the mundane, human side of him, but—there!—that's what Magnus was looking for. Small, yet to be fully awoken, a spark of magic that had nothing to do with the angels these people so revered.   

As Magnus gently pulled his awareness back to the present, he unconsciously clutched Alec tighter. He wasn't sure what he would do if the Lightwoods reacted too poorly to this news. Before he could speak, however, Alec began squirming. He loosened his grip, but the boy continued, letting out a small moan of pain that Magnus tried his best to lessen. It seemed he would have to explain afterwards; Alec's body wasn't on anyone's schedule but its own. He looked at the couple sitting across from him and leveled them with a serious look.

"What you're about to see is going to shock you, and you're going to want to help your son. I know what I'm asking of you, but you need to trust me and not interfere." He continued quickly before he could be interrupted. "I will take as much pain as I can, but he will still be hurting. It should be over quickly and he will be okay. You must not—" He didn't get any further before the boy in his lap let out a pitiful wail, curling in on himself and clutching at Magnus' shirt. The torn skin at his shoulders, already stretched thin around the mass underneath, ripped more, and Magnus pulled the pain away as quickly as he could.

The next minutes were a blur of noise and activity; Alec's pain, his parents' shock and anger as they leapt off the couch but could not make themselves come closer, blood and skin and—wet, matted feathers.

Once he could tell they were all the way out and would do no more damage, Magnus switched his focus from taking Alec's pain to healing the mess left over on his back as Alec shook against him. Only when there was nothing left to heal and Alec was simply resting against him, limp and dazed, did Magnus stop and assess the aftermath.

The Lightwoods were frozen in shock. Alec's back, while unharmed and back to normal, was covered in drying blood and fluid, and extending from near his shoulder blades were two wet, dark, matted wings, feathered like a bird's—or an angel's, though Magnus knew better. He let out a slow breath and made quick work of magicking the mess away, being more careful once he got to the wings.

Alec twitched as Magnus' magic flowed over his quivering new wings, clearing them of blood and mucus and leaving them dry, straightened, and shining.

"There. Good as new. Even better, maybe," Magnus said, trying to coax some reaction out of Alec other than fear and shock. Instead, it looked like the Lightwoods had awoken from their stupor and the only thing keeping them silent was deciding if they were more furious or horrified. Before they could erupt, Magnus decided that it would be in everyone's best interest if Alec were to get an uninterrupted introduction to his new additions, and decided to quite literally freeze them in place for a moment, stealthily turning so that they were out of Alec's view.

Alec blinked and took a few breaths, adjusting to suddenly being pain-free. He looked at Magnus. "I'm okay now?"

"Indeed you are. Do you feel any differently now?"

"I—my back isn't as, as stretched? And I don't feeling like I'm—like I'm tied up anymore," Alec answered dreamily. Magnus expected it would be a while before the adrenaline wore off, but it would work in his favor. A high child was rarely a scared child, in his admittedly limited experience. Magnus watched as the small wings began to slowly and haltingly unfold.

"Mr. Magnus?" Alec asked with a frown.

"Yes, child?"

"Why's it feel like I got two more—more—uh—somethin's on my back? And I can—I can move them? What—" Magnus saw his eyes widen as he caught sight of an expanding wing out of the corner of his eye. Since he clearly didn't have full control yet, Magnus gently helped him guide one small wing forward, wrapping slightly around Alec's side so that he could see the black, iridescent feathers more clearly.

"Ah—neat, huh? Very pretty," Magnus prompted cheerily as he noted Alec's breath speeding up, but to no avail. The child's eyes widened as he continued to hyperventilate until he simply passed out into Magnus' shirt. Before he could shake the boy or something, Magnus jumped at the sound of a knock at his door, groaning when he realized his actual, scheduled client had arrived at last.

He sighed, looking around his once-calm home at the frozen Lightwoods and their unconscious son and wondered where he had gone so wrong.