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“Purple? Or green?” Magnus was staring down at a wedding catalog, his eyes narrowed with determination. “Which one do you think says, 'I'm marrying the Head of The Institute and there's nothing any of you can do about it?”
“Magnus, are you trying to turn your marriage into a political statement?” Catarina laughed from her place on Magnus' couch.
“My dear, Catarina, a warlock marrying a Shadowhunter is a political statement. That statement being, 'fuck the Clave'.”
“Fuck the Clave...hmm…a reasonable opinion held by the man soon to be wed to their poster boy.”
“Oh, please. Alexander is not their poster boy.” Magnus scoffed, as he openly rolled his eyes. “If he wasn't such an exceptional leader, they'd force him to step down tomorrow. If they didn't need someone like him in New York, they'd cut him off without a second thought.”
“Whatever you say, Magnus.” Catarina responded with a grin. “And I'd go with purple. It'll match your skin tone better, and it'll look good next to Alec's suit.”
“I should probably get his opinion before showing up in a purple suit to our wedding…” Magnus sighed, while he closed the catalog, completely. “And his opinion will probably take around twenty years to get. He's been so busy lately. All this demonic activity…”
“He'll find a way to make time for you, Magnus. He always does.”
Magnus smiled to himself as he fondly recalled their engagement, the way that Alec had cleared his calendar for a week after Magnus said yes, the way the most fastidious man he’d ever known chose to return Jace’s phone calls at the very last minute, the way Alec held Magnus closer in their twisted up bed-sheets, insisting that the world could wait, insisting that they had nothing but time...
Magnus’ phone began to loudly ring from his pocket, interrupting his pleasant daydream. He briefly checked the name that lit up across his phone, before a smirk spread across his face. He answered the call with that same smirk, as it only grew brighter and brighter. “Speak of The Angel. Catarina and I were just discussing you, my love—”
“Magnus.” Clary’s voice was taut and shaking. “Magnus, I...I’m...I’m sorry...”
“And what in the world could you ever be sorry for, Biscuit?” Magnus’ tone was warm and inviting. “And why-oh-why are you calling me from Alexander’s phone? Is he so occupied with Clave paperwork that he has you fielding his calls?”
“Magnus...” Clary tried to speak again, although the nerves that seemingly lined her throat made her barely coherent. “You’re...you’re going to hear something very...bad. Very soon. But—Just. Don’t believe it, okay? Don’t believe a word of it. I promise you...I...already took care of it.”
Magnus squinted, as his confusion now showed on his expression. “Biscuit, why are you calling me to apologize for something that you’ve already taken care of? If you’ve already solved the problem, why would I still be hearing something bad—”
“I have to go. I have to go...” Clary sniffled on the other end of the line. “Just...give me a few days, Magnus. And...we can sort everything out. I just need...time. It just needs time to work.”
“Biscuit, what are you talking about—”
But Clary had already hung up the phone.
Nearly as soon as their conversation ended, there was a somber knocking at Magnus’ front door. He exchanged a hurried look with Catarina, who could only offer a subtle shrug of her shoulders in response.
Magnus cautiously approached the loft’s entrance, his fingers gracefully pulling open his door—
And he was immediately met with Jia Penhallow’s stoic face. “Magnus Bane.”
“Jia Penhallow...how unexpected...” Magnus’ words trailed off between them. “I don’t imagine that The Clave has sent you to apologize for all of their misgivings against me?”
Jia didn’t respond to Magnus’ suggestion. Instead, she neatly folded her arms behind her back. “I’m here as an official representative of The Clave, yes, but I am not here on Clave business, I’m afraid. I’m here to report that Alec Lightwood, Head of The New York Institute, lost his life earlier in the evening. Seeing as you two were meant to be wed, I believe it’s well within your right to know about this unfortunate situation.”
Magnus felt all the breath leave his body—
And if he hadn’t been able to lean against the open doorway, he would’ve crumbled down to his knees.
No.
It was the only word he could think—
The only word he could feel—
No.
“There must...be...some mistake.” Magnus’ reply came out as broken as he felt. “Jia—”
“I understand that this is awful news for you, Magnus. And I wish that there was something that I could say to ease your pain...” Jia took in a deep breath, her composure slightly faltering for one, brief second. “But you should know that Alec died a noble death. I’ve been told that he received word of a demon that was targeting Mundane children. And once Alec arrived on the scene, there were only seconds to spare before it was ready to fatally attack. His choice was between letting the demon go after the children or go after him, instead...and Alec...made the right choice. The choice we hope that any dutiful Shadowhunter would make.”
In that moment, Magnus knew that Alec was truly gone.
Sacrificing his life for the sake of others ran deep in Alec’s blood, and Magnus had often wondered if he’d lose him this way—
Lose him to his dedication to always doing what was right.
Magnus somehow managed to suppress his oncoming tears, as he stared directly into Jia’s eyes. “And...his body...what of it? Were you able to—”
“His body was unable to be recovered. We suspect that the demon...it...it fully...consumed it...” Jia averted her gaze away from Magnus’ own—
And silent tears began to roll down Magnus’ cheeks in response. “Thank you...Jia...for letting me know, personally. I know it must’ve cut into your calendar to have to travel to New York so suddenly.”
“Magnus, I...” Jia paused, as she shifted her stance. “I know you and The Clave haven’t always been on the best of terms...but I’ve...grown to respect your relationship with Alec, even though I didn’t always understand it. You...were worthy of a personal visit.”
Jia nodded to herself, before she turned away from Magnus’ door—
And Magnus was soon left alone with his utter devastation.
“Magnus? Magnus, what’s going on?” Catarina came to stand beside Magnus, placing a concerned hand on his shoulder. “Is it something to do with Alec? Is he alright?”
The innocence of Catarina’s question went through Magnus’ heart like a sharpened dagger...
And he began to weep, in the very spot he stood.
*********************************************************
Each day seemed darker than the last.
Magnus had completely skipped Alec’s funeral proceedings, knowing that he’d be unable to contain his emotions throughout the somber event. He didn’t want to serve as a distraction or a spectacle, not when he’d heard that Maryse had worked so hard on her thoughtful eulogy.
He didn’t know how much longer he’d have to live like this—
Without his heart beating in his chest.
Without being able to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin.
Without feeling anything beyond the surface.
He’d lost lovers before, to war, to time...
But he’d never lost his Alexander.
The man whose soul seemed to call out for his very own.
And Magnus had tried to keep himself busy. He’d tried to lose himself in a never-ending mess of clients, scheduling appointments back to back to back, trying to dissipate the very concept of free time, trying to make it so he barely had a moment to himself, barely had a moment to think—
But the memories always found him.
If not in his waking life, then late at night in his dreams.
And each morning, he still found himself reaching out for Alec’s frame, so used to him occupying the space on his side of their bed...
Tonight, Magnus had just finished up with his clients, and he was putting one of his spell-books back into their rightful place on his bookshelf—
And then he heard an urgent knocking on his front door.
Afterwards, there was an awful lurch in the pit of his stomach.
Magnus didn’t want to answer the door.
He never wanted to speak with an uninvited guest, ever again...
But he stilled the painful waves in his abdomen, just like he stilled the wild beating of his heart beat, and he made his way towards the loft’s entryway. And once he pulled open the door, he found himself unexpectedly smiling. “Biscuit.”
Magnus’ smile soon faded away, as he looked down at Clary’s hands—
They were shaking, and completely caked in dirt and blood.
“...Biscuit?” Magnus’ tone was cautious, as he eyed Clary up and down. “Are you alright?”
“I’m sorry, Magnus! I’m sorry. I had to hide the body...if they knew what I did...” Clary’s words come out frantic and unfocused. “Simon helped me find a safe spot in the cemetery, some old mausoleum. I sealed it with a rune. We’ve gone to check on him, every day, since, and—”
“Check on him? Biscuit, what are you—”
“Magnus, Alec’s alive. He’s...alive.” Clary’s face brightened as she shared the news, a low chuckle following her own admission. “I was the first one to reach the site of the demon attack. I moved his body, somewhere safe, after I drew my rune. But I didn’t want anyone to know, not The Institute, not The Clave. I thought that if they found out...how he was able to survive...they might prefer that he stay dead. They might not want anyone to know what I can really...do.”
“...Alive? My...my Alexander...” Magnus’ heart felt as if it was going to leap out of his chest. “Clary, are you...are you certain?”
“Come. See for yourself.” Clary offered Magnus a barely-there smile, before holding out her hand for his own—
And Magnus placed his own nervous palm into her grip, letting her lead him away from the loft.
*********************************************************
Alec looked as if he was simply sleeping—
His body peacefully rested against the mausoleum’s cold, gray slab.
He was unclothed, too, only wrapped in dark blankets that cascaded over his fair skin.
As Magnus now stood over his frame, he quickly observed that there was a new rune that adorned Alec’s chest...
One that he’d never seen before, his memory having no recollection of its shape.
“Biscuit, what’s—” Magnus didn’t finish his sentence, as he pointed directly at the rune on Alec’s chest. “This seems...new.”
“Sorry if it looks a bit rushed. I drew it during the whole demon attack thing.” Clary grimaced, as she moved to stand by Magnus’ side. “It’s a modified immortality rune.”
“...An immortality rune? Biscuit, you’re capable of such a thing?” Magnus couldn’t hide the surprised nature of his response. “And what do you mean by ‘modified’?”
“Well, an immortality rune is supposed to keep someone alive, forever, right?” Clary began to explain, while she gently tapped her fingers along the slab. “But...I...and maybe this is silly of me...I couldn’t imagine you without Alec...or Alec without you. And, so...his rune has an expiration date. When you die...he’ll die, too.”
“Ah. How very Shakespearian of you, Biscuit.” Magnus smiled back at Clary. “And...a bit overdramatic, too. I’d like to believe that you’re picking up on a flair for the dramatic from yours truly.”
Clary responded with a quiet grin. “I’ll...leave you two alone now. I think you have a bit of catching up to do.”
Clary only paused for a second, as she briefly spared a happy expression down at Alec’s resting figure—
Before she made her way out of the mausoleum’s doors.
Once Clary was officially out of hearing range, Magnus bent down towards Alec’s frame, and cradled his face between his hands. “Alexander...”
Alec’s eyes slowly blinked open, seemingly in response to Magnus calling his name...
And a few more seconds painfully passed, before Alec’s eyes came to focus on Magnus’ own. “Magnus...where are we...why...here...”
Alec openly glanced around the mausoleum, his attention soon focused on a marble angel in the center of the space. “Are we...am I...did we...die?”
“You don’t remember your brave sacrifice, my love?” Magnus asked the question, while reaching out for Alec’s hand—
And Alec took hold of Magnus’ palm, without a second thought. “No. The last thing that I remember...is my engagement ring...it was making this strange sound as it dragged across the pavement...I think...I think someone was moving my body...but that’s all I can remember. After that, everything went dark.”
Magnus’ eyes welled with tears, as he bent to gently press a kiss to Alec’s forehead. “I’m so thankful that you don’t remember it, Alexander. I wish I could forget it all myself.”
“Magnus, what happened?” Alec’s question was quiet and low. “What happened to me? What...what’s happening?”
“You...died...Alexander.” Magnus could barely get the words to leave his chest. “You died, and it was the most horrid thing in the entire universe. You sacrificed your life on behalf of Mundane children and you left me a rather noble widower. Well. Almost widower. We weren’t yet married, after all.”
“Magnus...I’m so sorry—”
“No. Don’t. Don’t apologize for being who you are, my love. If you’d told me that you let those innocent children die just so you could make it home to me...well...you wouldn’t really be the man I fell in love with, in the first place.” Magnus smiled down at Alec. “You’re rarely one for uncalculated risks, but when you do take them, it’s always in the service of others.”
“I didn’t mean to leave you. I...I never wanted to leave you.” Alec stared up towards Magnus’ gaze. “Magnus, I love you.”
“I love you, too, Alexander.” Magnus smiled down at Alec, once more. “And...I have some...news.”
“News?”
“Yes, well...you did die, my love. The Clave has already held your funeral. Tears have already been shed. Your position as Head of The Institute has already been bestowed unto Underhill. And it seems as if, Clary, your sweet savior, has every intention of keeping your resurrection a secret to the rest of the world.” Magnus tilted his head to the side, as he momentarily thought about their complicated situation. “I think that it means, at least for now, that you’re free of your obligations from your past life. At least until further notice.”
“At least until further notice...” Alec subtly nodded along with his own words. “So, what you’re saying is that my calendar is technically free...no boring Clave meetings...no untimely demon hunting...just...you...and me?”
“Just you and me, Alexander.”
Forever and ever.
Magnus kept the rest of his thought to himself, unsure of how to break the news to Alec about his now immortal state...
Maybe it’d be best if he revealed that information on his balcony in Paris...
Or even at his place in Tokyo...
All Magnus knew for certain was that he and Alec wouldn’t be returning to his Brooklyn loft, anytime soon. He wasn’t willing to risk someone reporting to the Clave about Alec still being alive—
He wasn’t willing to risk his Shadowhunter being ripped out of his arms again.
Never, never again.
“Are you hungry, Alexander?” As he asked the question, Magnus ran his thumb along the back of Alec’s hand.
“Actually...yeah. I’m starving. I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.” Alec’s free hand went towards his stomach, his fingers splayed across his skin. “Where’d you want to go for dinner?”
“Alexander, you’re the one who died. Don’t you think that you should be able to choose where we eat for dinner, at least?” Magnus lightly chuckled under his breath.
“I don’t care where we eat. As long as I’m with you.” Alec then brought Magnus’ hand up to his lips, as he softly kissed his knuckles. “I’ll go anywhere in the world with you, Magnus Bane.”
Alec’s sincerity served as Magnus’ final, emotional straw—
His confident façade then completely stripped away, as he climbed up onto the slab next to Alec, his head soon buried in Alec’s chest. “Oh God. I thought you died. I thought you died...Alexander, it was so awful. I was in so much pain, each and every day. I pray that the Angel never makes me live through that sort of pain again.”
“Magnus...” Alec lightly ran his fingers through Magnus’ hair. “It’s okay. It’ll all be okay. I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
Magnus nodded against Alec’s chest, even as he continued to sob in his arms...
Even if Alec soon despised him, even if he absolutely hated their linked, immortal fate...
Magnus knew that nothing could compare to knowing that Alec was still alive.
And he would happily spend the next thousand years all by himself—
If it meant that somewhere, out there, Alec Lightwood’s heart was still beating in time with his own.