Chapter Text
Just for a minute
The silver forked sky
Lit you up like a star
That I will follow
- The Lightning Strike, Snow Patrol
The sound of a single bird chirping woke Alec from a deep sleep and it took him a while to figure out what day it was. His eyelids were heavy as he eventually managed to open them. The bedroom window was slightly open as to let in the fresh air of the early dawn and the earthy smells of the woods in his backyard. The light that shone in through the creaks of the curtain ushered in a foggy day and the wind in the trees outside whispered of yet another cold morning.
He had woken before his alarm and soon enough it started ringing, signaling the beginning of his day and he drew away the comfort of his blankets and stepped out onto the chill wooden floors. As he sleep drunkenly stumbled through his bedroom, through the kitchen and into the open space living room, he kneeled in front of the woodburning stove and began to light a fire to warm up the cottage he lived in.
The cottage was old, but the last owners had been an elderly couple who had spent a fortune fixing the place and redesigning and redecorating in into something very modern and very Scandinavian minimalistic in style.
He had no idea how he’d ended up living in this place, because it must have cost a fortune. But when he had moved to town about a year ago, the elderly couple had recently passed away and had left the cottage as city property. Alec had spent the last of his college savings and had taken a loan in the bank to call this place his own.
And he loved it. He loved how it was far away from the small town he worked in, yet not further away that he could easily bike when the weather allowed it in the summer. He loved that his nearest neighbor lived a mile away, yet he never felt alone. He loved that he got to wake up to the sound of animals and the smell of the woods. He loved the big windows in his living room that gave a full display of the trees in his backyard and the outline of the mountains in the back.
With the fire crackling and the cottage slowly heating up, he felt more awake and began dressing himself for his usual morning run.
A 5k done and 20 minutes later he was in the shower, lungs burning and muscles sore from the strain and the fast pace. He let the warm water massage the muscles on his back and rubbed his face. The week old stubble scratched his hands, but he didn’t care to do anything about it.
The bathroom mirror was covered in steam and with his hand he wiped it dry and looked at himself. Sure, his stubble was getting darker and thicker by the day and his hair had gotten longer than he ever remembered it being in his childhood, but overall it wasn’t a stranger looking back at him.
He stared at his eyes and found them greener today than they were yesterday and smirked at the wonders of hazel eyes. He cast a glimpse on the tattoo on his neck and smiled sentimentally at the fond memory of the first time he’d gotten truly wasted with Jace on a trip to Atlanta City.
They had both come up with the idea of getting a tattoo by the end of the night, and while Jace had chosen a spot that could easily be covered, Alec had chosen a spot that at the moment signaled ‘ I don’t have anything to hide ’.
And so the intricate pattern that covered a little part of his neck was a permanent reminder of the weekend he’d decided to stand up to his parents, drop out of business school and come out as a gay man.
He got dressed and ate his breakfast in silence with the occasional branch knocking on a window or the crackle of the fire. The open space living room and kitchen had been warmed up while he was out for his run, and it was easy to pretend that the cottage was filled with life.
Reality was different as his siblings lived in New York while still in school, and his parents were miles away doing whatever politicians did nowadays in Washington DC.
Alec liked this little town and he felt at home. The thought of home made his stomach churn with an unpleasant feeling and the thought ‘stop pretending’ nudged his brain.
He sighed before picking up his car keys, locked up the cottage and went to his car. The brown leaves under his feet crunched loudly, he filled his lungs with the smell of the mountain air and got in his car.
The drive into town was a short one, and suddenly he was standing in front of the shop. Not his shop, not yet at least. It was one his dreams to one day own a shop like this. He liked his job and liked the people he worked with, yet he felt as if something was missing.
Unlocking the door Alec was greeted with the sweet humid smell that screams flowers and plants.
He got started by putting the sign out and a variety of this seasons flower and plants were put outside, while the flowers that didn’t belong in the chill October air was kept inside. He began watering the flowers that needed to be watered, he fed the turtle they had in a basin in the corner of the shop and he plucked dead leaves off of plants to make them more presentable.
He turned on the radio that was his only source to what happened in the city and the world around him when it came to music and news. In a town like this it was easy to get lost in time, and sometimes it felt like he was living in his own private bubble of contentment.
The bell above the door rang and signaled that a customer had entered the shop. Alec was not one bit surprised when it turned out to be one of the regulars. It was an elderly lady with white puffy hair who always wore a long coat and a scarf around her head.
“What can I get for you today Mrs. Wright?” he asked politely as he walked around the desk to greet her properly. She smiled toothy at him and chuckled as he led her to the selection of flowers, some were new and some were the usual they had.
“You know how I am about change my boy, the usual will do just fine but it’s sweet of you to ask every time,” she grinned as Alec started to pick the flowers she normally chose.
Every time it was the same; a bouquet of white tulips for her to put on the gravesite of her husband. It was a sweet gesture, but Alec couldn’t help but think that the lady wasted money doing it.
He collected them in a neat bouquet and tied it together and wrapped it up in paper and together they walked to the cashier while she talked a little about her morning. How her poodle Pod had woken her at 4 am because "as you know, she senses something all the time".
“They say there’s a storm coming. I think it’s what Pod sensed this morning. She’s usually never sensitive to storms, but I think there’s something different about this one,” the old lady pondered as Alec accepted the cash she reached him.
He sent her a reassuring smile and went to open the door for her. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Mrs. Wright. You have a good day, and tell Pod I’ll bring him a treat if he comes to visit me.”
At Alec’s comment, the old lady chuckled with laughter and left the store with the white tulips in her arms.
Alec shook his head and let his mind wander to the peculiar people that lived in the town.
When he’d first moved here people had given him a strange look because he was a single man.
“Single men don’t move to small towns for no reason,” the city had whispered behind his back. But it hadn’t been long before the town had opened their arms for him and welcomed him in. He’d been invited to various town gatherings such as the Thanksgiving feast, the Christmas tree lighting, New Years services in the local church and more.
Closing the door after Mrs. Wright his eyes fell on the building across the street. The big ‘for sale’ sign put a smile on his face as he imagined himself buying the place. The front of the shop was open with big floor-to-ceiling windows and a glass door.
Alec imagined how broad daylight would flow in and open up the place even more. He imagined the green light that would be a permanent presence, as the light would hit the plants and color the store. He imagined how he could give in to his imagination and creativity, and he could create flower arrangements he would spend his present days coming up with. He imagined owning something to call his and finally feel like everything would be in place.
The rest of the day went by quickly and to Alec’s surprise the only thing the townspeople seemed to talk about was this storm. “It’s coming in from New York ,” said one customer. “I’ve heard they’ve lost power for a few hours even. Can you imagine? New York City without power!” said another.
Alec thought of his siblings and made a mental note to get in touch with Izzy later tonight to hear of their well being.
He continued to greet the customers with a smile, making sure to stay friendly as to make them feel comfortable and helped. A good day for the store was 20 or so customers and while that might not seem like a lot, it was the usual and Alec liked the routine of it.
As he closed off the store that afternoon a little before 5pm he went outside and saw the storm that they’d all been talking about. It was right above them and he heard the faint rumble of thunder.
He carried plants and flowers inside, signs were put away and as he stepped out to close the door, a black car came riding down the street and stopped in front of the empty shop across the street.
He’d seen cars like this before, and for a short minute he thought his parents had come for a surprise visit.
That was until a door opened and a man stepped out and went for the ‘for sale’ sign, tore it off the window and bended it over his knee and handed it to the driver of the car who had stepped out to empty the trunk. Three large black suitcases were stood in front of the door and he saw the man hand the driver a handsome amount of money.
The man was dressed in a pair of dark pants and a long black coat, that flailed wildly around his legs as the wind had picked up and tore in the coat.
Alec’s heart dropped to his stomach, and cold dread flew through his veins, when he saw the man pull out a set of keys and unlocked the glass door into the shop. He must have felt Alec’s gaze on him, because he turned around and their eyes from locked across the street.
And that’s when the first lightning stroke and hit the road between them, and the skies opened up and rain started pouring.
“I still don’t know why you’re doing this, Magnus,” said a voice behind him and he spun around to see Catarina leaning in the doorway, arms across her chest and a frown on her face.
He hadn’t expected to see her because he figured she would be stuck at work, working double shifts as she usually did. He was happy to see her, but it also made his heart ache. He would miss her dearly. Having been friends for a long time, it was difficult for him to imagine his life without seeing her every other day.
“I’ve told you why I’m doing this, stop saying you don’t,” he told her with a fond smile as she came towards him. He was hunched over a half packed suitcase, trying to remember what it was he was missing.
“I know why, I just don’t understand. You say you want to ‘ reinvent yourself through your arts’ , but that you could do just as easily here in New York. We have parks, you know,” she said pointedly and in return receiving a fond glare from Magnus.
“Is this about Camille?” she rested a gentle hand on his arm as he turned towards her. He sighed and let out a silent laugh.
“This is not about Camille. I’ve been over her for a long time,” he reassured his friend who had a concerned look on her face. “And I know that New York has parks, but when I say nature I don’t mean the lake in Central Park or the skating rink in Bryant Park. I mean actual mountains with icy tops, trees in every color, water as far as the eye can see-“
“Okay, I get it,” Catarina interrupted. She saw the hunger for adventure in his eyes and knew there was nothing she could do.
“And when Luke said there was a shop that had been vacant for a while with an apartment in, how could I say no? You’ve seen the pictures he e-mails from that place. It’s wonderful ,” Magnus gushed as he started pacing his almost empty apartment, looking for things to pack.
He came across a figurine he’d picked up on one of his travels and as he held it in his hand, a sad smile grew on his face. He would miss the opportunity to travel the world and meeting interesting people, but he needed to this for himself, for his craft. He looked around in his apartment and sighed heavily.
“I’ll miss this place,” he mumbled mostly to himself but Catarina came to stand next to him, nodding and pulled an arm around his shoulders. He drew an arm around her as well and hugged her sideways.
He looked at the now empty walls and remembered how pictures he’d taken had hung on them. He could see the nails where he had hung pieces of art that had been gifted to him by other photographers. He clenched the figurine and took a deep breath to stop tears from falling. He shook his head and looked at Catarina who had tears in her eyes.
“Everything will be just fine, my dearest Catarina,” he mumbled reassuringly into her hair as he pulled her into a proper hug. “You have that new girlfriend to take care of you, and the constant shifts. You won’t even notice I’m gone!”
“Don’t say that!” came her frail voice muffled from where her head was buried in his shoulder. She pulled away and wiped the tears under her eyes. “I’ll think about you everyday. I’ll think of you when I see people on the street making funny faces, or whenever I see tourists with cameras. I’ll always think of you.”
Tears threatened to flow over, as he silently laughed at her attempt of sounding frustrated. He pulled her in for yet another hug and did not feel like letting go, not yet.
“And I you,” was all he could say as they stood in the other’s embrace, reluctant to let go of the warmth and comfort of friendship.
Later when Magnus had finished packing and they had said their goodbyes, Catarina stood in the doorway, hugging herself and watched as Magnus stood by the car that would take him to his new home.
The storm that had been raging through the city was finally moving on and moving up north. Catarina’s girlfriend Dot had said that the storm was a sign of change. Magnus had huffed at that and agreed half-jokingly.
Casting a last glimpse of the brown brick building that had been his home the past 4 years, and looking at Catarina as she stood there in the doorway still in her uniform it was easy to pretend that he was just going away for the weekend for a summit, when in reality he was going away for a much longer time. Exactly how long, he didn’t know. The contract he’d signed didn’t have an end date and so he had decided to take every day as it came.
Sitting back in the black leather seat, he rolled down his window to wave at Catarina who once again wiped her eyes. He kept waving until she was out of sight and they’d left the familiar neighborhood of Brooklyn. He leaned back in his seat and watched as the city disappeared behind him.
“It’s going to be a long drive, Mr. Bane. Let me know if you need anything,” said the driver once they’d gotten on the freeway going north.
He could see the mountains in the distance and when he closed his eyes he remembered how the mountain air had smelled that one time in Austria, and the time he’d gone to Bhutan for a spread of the native tribes that lived in the mountains.
He smiled and felt giddy excitement spread throughout his body yet the constant sound of the car tires against the concrete, and the almost unnoticeable rocking of the car, lulled him to sleep.
He woke again just as they exited the freeway and the mountains had grown taller. The light outside had faded as thick gray clouds hung above them, hiding the icy tips of the mountains.
The giddy excitement returned and he leaned forward in his seat and cleared his throat. The clock in the car told him that it was a little after four in the afternoon.
“Will we be arriving soon?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep as he suppressed a yawn. His nap still lingered in his limbs and his eyelids felt heavy.
“Not for another hour, Mr. Bane,” the driver responded with a quick glance in the rearview mirror.
“I could really use some fresh air and a reason to stretch my legs. Maybe we could pull in for a minute or two? You look like you could use a break as well,” Magnus gestured at his stiff arms and figured he’d been asleep for at least 2 hours. The driver nodded and soon after he pulled into a small parking lot at the side of the road.
He quickly undid the seatbelt and stepped out of the car only to be met with roaring wind and cold air. Somehow it didn’t bother him all that much that the wind tore in his coat, because the smell of the mountains and the trees and the nature was overwhelming.
Before shutting the door, he grabbed his camera from his bag and slung it across his shoulder and stepped away from the car. The road was less trafficked here, and he figured it would only be lesser the further into the mountainous terrain they got.
He took a few big gulps of breath and felt how the cold air scratched his throat and filled his lungs. He turned on his camera, relaxed his shoulders and peeked through the lens to find a great motif.
The repeated clicks of a lighter broke his concentration and he looked up from his camera to see the driver trying to ignite fire for his cigarette. Even with his back to the direction of where the wind was coming from, and a hand cupped around the lighter it was near impossible for him to get a spark.
Magnus chuckled silently as the driver let out an annoyed huff and in an irritated movement threw the unlit cigarette to the ground, reached into his inner chest pocket and drew out a pack of nicotine gum.
“You should have told me you were a smoker, and we could have stopped somewhere less windy,” Magnus said as he turned off his camera. He’d shot a few pictures, but in this lighting it was difficult to tell if they were any good.
“It’s all good, sir. I’m trying to quit. It’s not good for the baby,” the driver shrugged and leaned against the car, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck.
“Please, call me Magnus. You’ve probably heard my snores. There’s no need for formality,” he reached out his hand and the driver took it with a blinding smile.
“David. You have any family?” he asked as he leaned back again, looking at the horizon where gray stormy clouds gathered and drew closer.
Magnus didn’t mind personal questions from people he had just met. It was an occupational hazard that came when traveling the world. For a long time he’d lived on the road with only his camera bag and a few personal items with him. We would meet people from all over the world who would ask questions about him and whom he was and he did traveling alone in the outskirts of the world. He had makeshift families in Europe, Asia, South America and most importantly New York.
“I do, yes,” he put his hands in his pockets, and as his phone buzzed with an incoming call, he excused himself and stepped away for some privacy. His face lit up when he read Luke across his screen
“Luke, hello,” he greeted
“Magnus! It’s good to hear your voice. Listen, how far are you?”
Luke had called to give him instructions as to where to find the keys for his new place and told him that he would stop by to help him settle in. When Magnus had first thought of moving from New York, Luke had been the first he had called knowing that he would understand. Luke himself had moved from the city to start a life as the town mayor, something he was looking forward to as he found that the police was not his calling.
The rest of the drive into to town was smooth even though the storm gained power and Magnus swore he saw lightning in the distance. They picked up the key at the realtor’s office and David drove him all the way to shop.
As they drove down Main Street a smile crept onto his face when he saw the quirky little shops on either side of the street. Trees covered in fairy lights lit up its surroundings with a warm orange glow and Magnus could almost feel the warmth radiating from it.
The car pulled up in front of an empty shop with floor-to-ceiling windows, lights reflecting in the glass, as it was getting darker and darker by the minute. Magnus’ eyes fell on the ‘for sale’ sign and he stepped out of the car to tear it down, bending it across his knee.
And that’s when he felt it. The hairs on the nape of his neck stood as a shiver ran down his spine. Electricity filled the air, thick and crushing, as he turned around on the spot. A man stood across the street from him, frozen in place in front of a hand painted sign that read ‘Flora Kimberly’.
The man’s burning gaze, and the electricity in the air, made him straighten up to get rid of the tense sensation that had settled in his back.
Their eyes met across the street and Magnus was surprised to find harshness in the seemingly gentle face they belonged to. Time slowed down and he took the man in. Tall with long legs and broad shoulders, dressed in a gray knit sweater, dark jeans and hiking boots, dark hair sticking out from underneath a beanie and a scruff covering his jaw framing plump lips.
And then lightning struck making the ground beneath his feet shake and the shaking reverberated all the way to his chest, setting something he’d long forgotten loose. And he wondered what more this town would bring him.