Chapter Text
Tiberius Nero Blackthorn sat perched atop a steal beam that jutted out above the lights of downtown Manhattan. The cool wind of the evening blowing gently through his hair. One hand fluttered restlessly at his side while the other twirled a butterfly knife deftly between his fingers. A deep glower was set upon his face as he watched the mundanes pass below unaware of his presence. With a huff he stood, pulling his phone from the pocket of his gear. At the start of their patrol Ty and his group had been ambushed by a pack of raveners. In the momentary confusion he had lost sight of Kit. He wasn't necessarily worried at first, it had been many years since they had first met, the both of them now eighteen, and Ty Knew Kit was no longer a stranger to battles; they had trained together for years and Kit had picked it up with astonishing ease. Kit could hold his own. It wasn’t the distance that made Ty nervous. It was the steady silence of his phone. He knew from experience that it didn't take that long to dispatch of a few raveners. And it was the strangeness of his disappearance. One minute he and Kit had been dancing around each other, their blades flashing in the moonlight, and the next Ty was on the ground pinned under a ravener. By the time he had dispatched of it Kit and the rest of the raveners were gone. And there was no trace of a struggle, because Kit wouldn't have just left him. There was nothing. Ty had called him multiple times after that and gotten nothing but a busy signal, loud and deafening in his brain.
He spun the knife faster.
Kit could be dead for all Ty knew. And he hated that; not knowing…With an irritated flick of his wrist he spun the knife back onto his weapons belt before falling gracefully from the beam. He caught himself on another beam nearer to the ground, slowing his decent before landing in a crouch. He stood, pulling his head phones up over his ears, before exiting out onto the busy street and began to walk.
Small Boutique shops and eateries lined either side of the street, as well as entrances to offices for mega corporations and small businesses alike. So it was no surprise that the streets were uncomfortably crowded. Everything was as it always was, so much so that Ty nearly didn’t notice the tall blond boy standing amidst a flock of mundane females.
Ty Froze, his head whipping around to stare incredulously. Irritation crept throughout his entire body. Kit was standing in the middle of a group of pretty girls, all fawning over him, with a radiant smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Ty had always thought the Herondales were unfairly beautiful. The portraits hanging in the London institute, the old pictures and even Jace, were all exquisite. And Kit was no exception. In the years since they had met, Kit had grown taller, his muscles filling out and his cheeks becoming more angular. The resemblance to Jace becoming more apparent in the shape of his deep blue eyes, the set of his jaw, and even the lazy smirk that came so easily now. He was devastating, and he knew it. And girls had become painfully aware of how splendid a specimen Kit was, especially mundane girls.
Ty glowered, his gray eyes meeting Kits vibrant blue ones for the briefest moment before flicking away, downwards and overwhelmed. Ty turned angrily and continued back in the direction he had been heading in, whipping out his phone and sending a quick text to Dru, listening as Kit caught up to him. He shot a glare in Kit’s direction as he fell into step beside him.
“Ty, the weirdest-“. Kit began, but Ty whirled on him glaring viciously at his collarbone.
“You could have texted me.” He said “That you were ok and not dead somewhere. I’ve been freaking out looking for you everywhere and you’re fine, hanging out here flirting with a bunch of mundanes.”
In the corner of Ty’s eye he saw Kit’s expression harden from surprise to something else (maybe irritation?) Before he spoke, his voice straining to sound composed.
“In what world do I ever not contact you first?” It was more of a statement, than a question. Because in all of Ty’s and Kit’s memory it had never happened. Which is why it had stung.
“In whatever world this is that you don’t want to be my parabatai.” Ty said. His eyes locking with Kit’s, taking in the flash of distress across his face before turning and stalking away.
***
Kit didn’t pursue the topic. He also didn’t mention what had happened during the raveners attack. Ty had been bitter towards him for weeks, and if he didn’t want to hear what Kit had to say, he wasn’t going to force him to listen. He would just discuss it with Jace when they got back to the institute. Although that did not stop him from sulking as he followed the taller boy in silence. It wasn’t because Ty was mad at him so much. He understood why, he really did. He’d of been upset too if he was in Ty’s position. He was sulking because he didn’t know how to explain to Ty why he had rejected his request to become parabatai and that because of his lack of an explanation Ty’s trust in him seemed to be failing.
After Livia’s death Ty and Kit had become extremely close. Circumstances and bad decisions had made them nearly inseparable, and once things had calmed down, even if just a little, that closeness had remained. It was during all the bad decision making that Kit had started to realize the way he felt about Ty. But he would have never in a million years divulged that information to him. So he kept it quiet. For years, he kept it to himself. He figured Ty wasn’t interested like that and they would remain friends and he would be alright with that. The last thing he had expected, however, was for Ty to want to be parabatai. He had thought, after Livy, Ty wouldn’t want to be parabatai with anyone; but he had been wrong.
It had only been three weeks since Ty had posed the question. They had been lounging in the Library of the New York institute reading about old Nephilim myths and various downworlder folklore. They had both been sprawled out on the loveseat, Ty's legs spread out over Kits lap. It had been a calm moment between them, and Kit had been enjoying it, the warm pressure of Ty's legs over his. The sensation still fresh in his mind even weeks later. He hadn't been in any rush to move or to do anything to disturb Ty, so when Ty had suddenly sat up, tucking his legs underneath himself, Kit couldn't help the tiny noise of disappointment that had escaped his lips. Ty had either not heard it or had paid it no mind, he had seemed to be steadying himself, his hands fidgeting in his lap. Kit had watched for a moment before opening his mouth to ask what was wrong, only to be interrupted by Ty.
"We should be parabatai." He said, a nervous smile gracing his lips. Kit had only allowed himself to be distracted by the rare smile for a brief second before the words hit him. He blanched. Being parabatai with Tiberius was the last thing he wanted. He had seen firsthand what Emma and Julian had gone through and though the situation was remarkably different (seeing as Kit's feelings weren't necessarily reciprocated) it still was not something he was willing to risk. Ty had shifted uncomfortably and opened his mouth to say something else but Kit didn't give him the opportunity.
"No." He had blurted, his voice tense and harsh in the silence. Ty's mouth snapped shut and his eyes flicked up to look at Kit briefly, the hurt in them palpable.
"I can't. Not-...not with you Ty." and before Ty could question him or before he could break under guilt form the hurt on his face, Kit had stood and left the room.
Now, as they stalked up the familiar steps of the institute in awkward silence, Kit almost regretted turning Ty down. Almost. As much as Kit would do for Ty (and that was not said lightly-kit’s thoughts had crossed into dark territory on more than one occasion) he was not that self-sacrificing. With a heavy sigh Kit Brushed past Ty, heading to his room.
Ignoring the dull pain in his arms he stripped and took a quick shower, washing the blood and the ichor from his body, the scene in the library playing on repeat as it had for the last several weeks. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he exited the shower and threw on some sweats and a long sleeved t-shirt, not bothering to dry his hair before making his way to the Library where he Knew Ty and Dru would be waiting with Jace. He was the last to enter the room and ignoring the light glower still on Ty’s face he flopped down next to Dru on the loveseat.
“Nice of you to join us.” Jace said teasingly a small smirk playing on his lips. “I heard you had a wicked night.” His smirk grew bigger and Kit scowled before standing grasping his hands behind his back.
“I did.” He said with a humorless smile, “Woke up in a Starbucks bathroom with both my wrists slit. You know how much I love BDSM.” He heard Dru swear and in the corner of his eyes he saw Ty’s head shoot up in alarm. Kit glanced over and saw the worry clear on his face; his eyebrows knit, and his fingers flexing. He sighed.
“The last thing I remember was Ty being pinned to the ground by that ravener. I went to help and then suddenly it was black and the next thing I know I was waking up in the bathroom, in a puddle of my own blood.” He added, gentler this time, before flopping back down next to Dru. He felt her small hand find his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before pulling away. He appreciated the gesture more than she knew.
An hour later, after Jace and Ty had grilled him, getting as much detail as he could remember about the incident, Kit found himself sprawled out on his bed, his wrists exposed above him. He had divulged that whatever blade had filleted his wrists had been enchanted, but he hadn't disclosed why he believed that. He ran a finger over the split skin wincing at the sharp pain that followed. When he had woken up, dazed and confused, he had called Ty's name. When he recieved no answer he realized where he was exactly and that he was very much bleeding out on the floor. His wrists had been more than slit, from the edge of his palm to the crease of his elbow his arms had been sliced open. In alarm, he had hurriedly applied an iratze to each arm, before crying out as a white hot pain flashed through him. He had never experienced pain like that in his life and it had left him panting in a heap on the floor, the iratze having only worked well enough for his wounds to just barely begin clotting.
He had stumbled out of the bathroom (after attempting to clean up the puddle of blood as best he could) into the dim lighting of a Starbucks. The barista behind the counter had jumped in surprise at Kit's sudden appearance and Kit had squinted back, before stumbling out of the shop and onto the street outside, pulling his phone from his pocket to try and contact Ty. When he saw that it had no power, he had stood there frowning and disoriented trying to figure out why his phone was dead, when it had been at a full charge. The sound of giggles broke him from his daze and he had glanced up to see a group of girls eyeing him in the distance. They had waived and he had given them a half-assed smile, and waived back. Somehow they had translated that as an invitation to approach him and he was surrounded in moments, irritation clawing at the back of his head. He had been about to ask them to fuck off nicely, when he had caught a gleam of pale skin glowing in the moonlight and messy black hair. His head had snapped in Ty's direction their eyes meeting briefly, and he had immediately excused himself, much to the chagrin of the girls.
"That looks awful." A voice from the doorway said, breaking him from his reverie.
Kit shot up, whipping his head round to stare up at the tall dark haired boy standing in the entrance to his room. Ty was leaning against the frame with a roll of bandages and some kind of awful looking green antiseptic clutched in his long fingers.
"Christopher Jonathan Herondale." Ty began, "You have been keeping a lot of things from me lately and I don't like it."