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Alec doesn't notice it, at first.
It's little things - the way Magnus always shows up to their dates early. Alec will arrive to find Magnus already there, smiling pleasantly at him like one might do at a business meeting. "Am I late?" he will ask, checking his watch worriedly. He had been making an effort not to get swept up on work anymore; Magnus was right, there was always a crisis, and his husband was top priority. "No such thing," Magnus then answers, casually, "perfectly on time. Besides, I do believe the Head of the Institute is never late; everyone else is simply early," as he stands up and tilts his head to give Alec a peck on the lips. It's all of his usual grace, swift movements that flow as a dancer's do - practiced. Rehearsed. It's in the way Magnus would take care of everything, conjuring up their meal, giving Alec flowers, barely allowing him to leave his seat. "I thought I was supposed to spoil you tonight," Alec will say. "Oh, darling," he will answer, "you do enough as it is," as he makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. It's in the way Alec would tell him, "this was nice," and Magnus would answer, "I'm glad". In the way these would sound like the most sincere words he has said all night, an edge of extra honesty that tells Alec how close to scared Magnus was.
It's in the way Magnus is always the one to initiate sex, in the way he will flip Alec over and start riding him, so frantic and desperate, as soon as Alec tries to caress him, to take care of him. It leaves Alec feeling a little wounded and even rejected, even if he knows it doesn't make sense. It's the way Magnus is always taking charge of everything, to the point where Alec doesn't get to do anything for him.
He doesn't notice it at first, but he does notice it eventually.
He's seen Magnus trying to overcompensate enough times to recognise it for that it is - Magnus is not feeling well. He's being extra pleasant and way too accommodating because he's trying to hide it from Alec, trying to tell him that he's fine, as he deals with his pain alone and lets it eat him alive. It's his perfect, carefully practiced in-control facade that he always puts on.
And Alec will be damned if he ever lets that one fool him again.
He made a promise - I will catch you when you fall. He made a promise - the forever engraved in his wedding ring. He made a promise - I stay here with you. I'm never leaving your side again. Alec promised he wouldn't let Magnus alone anymore, he promised to be his rock and support him and he planned to do that for as long as Magnus would let him. He'd be damned if he ever let Magnus face any kind of pain alone again, if he ever got that close to losing him because of it again. Ever.
He made a promise to take care of Magnus, and in order to do that, he couldn't afford to overlook anything again.
So he pays attention, and he notices, and he's going to do something about it if it kills him.
Now, if only he knew how.
He's tried to approach the topic gently - show Magnus that he's there for him with actions instead of words, mindful so as not to scare Magnus away with his usual bluntness. He knows Magnus has his reasons to try to hide it from him- knows this isn't easy for him, knows for how long and how many times his feelings have been belittled and even treated with disdain. So he tries easing him into it, gently nudge him into telling Alec what's wrong.
But it never works.
This is a language Alec's still not fluent in, and Magnu's had centuries of practice. It's like trying to lead a Bolshoi ballerina into a dance, like trying to catch a butterfly with your bare hands, like trying to trick a Seelie. Every gesture Alec makes to try and show Magnus he's there, Magnus flips on him. If he tries to hold him, Magnus turns around in his arms, kisses his neck and plays with his hair. If he tries to make him food, Magnus shoves him out of the kitchen and conjures up a three-course meal. If he tries to tell Magnus he loves him, Magnus smiles and says "why, I must be one lucky man," and kisses him. Magnus deflects every attempt at getting him to feel safer, to open up. He doesn't let go, and he never lets Alec lead the conversation.
It scares him, how good Magnus is at this. How naturally he dodges Alec's attempts at comforting him. How used to it he seems to be.
So, he decides, maybe he needs to try another approach.
He can never beat Magnus in his own territory. He needs to play his own strengths - he does his best when it comes to spoken words, honesty and communication. He is able to speak clearly and convey exactly what he means. And he's resourceful and skillful and very good at holding onto Magnus and not letting him go.
So he's going to use all of that.
----------
"Magnus," Alexander says as soon as he enters their home, "I know you're hiding something."
It's like being hit by a train.
"I-" he begins, but isn't given a chance to finish.
"I tried to get you to talk about it, but you never let me," Alexander continues as if he'd never been interrupted, dropping his bag by the doorstep, "so I decided it was best to just ask. I know you feel like you need to deal with whatever it is alone, but you don't. You really don't. I know you, I know that when you get like this- so, so perfect, like- a housewife or something, it's because you're trying to- to keep your distance, but don't. Just don't."
It's not like that, Magnus wants to say. He's not trying to push Alexander away, he's trying to keep him close. He had no idea it would backfire this badly, and he tries to tell him that, but Hurricane Alexander is in full force at this point, talking and gesticulating as he moves towards Magnus with absolute intent. It's an unstoppable force, and all Magnus can do is watch in awe, slightly dizzy at the intensity of it all, and hold on for dear life.
He doesn't really manage to process anything - all he knows is that one minute he was labeling his vampire fangs, and the next his husband was storming in, already in a rant about how apparently Magnus had been pushing him away and- and Magnus didn't even notice he was doing that. He watches, frozen on the spot, as Alexander talks, focused and determined, until he comes to a halt right in front of Magnus, just toeing into his personal space, grabs Magnus' elbow and says, "I'm here for you."
And Magnus cries.
It's horrifying, it's ugly, and it's exactly what he didn't mean to do when he realized Alexander wanted to talk to him. Angel, he doesn't even know why he starts to cry - because nothing has happened. At all. It seems it's just in his nature to overreact to anything and everything and make people worry. Somehow he's done everything so wrong that Alexander thinks he's trying to keep a distance from him, his theatrics and stupid careless actions getting the best of him. And now- Alexander had just asked a question, and there he is, breaking down for no good reason, making this even more of a mess.
It's terrifying, it's humiliating, the extent of his fragility.
He thought he had been doing alright, but he still comes apart at every breeze, like he always has.
He sees the picture in his mind. A weak, crying, petulant child. An overdramatic, hyper sensitive, insufferable boyfriend. Camille's and Asmodeus' voices get mixed in his head, a mere extension of each other. By the Angel, why can't you just grow up?
He cries harder, ugly sobs tearing through him, and he's sure he's going to break in half from the sheer force of it. He's being washed away by it, losing himself, drowning in these feelings, helpless and scared. As always. You can do better than that. Come on, no one wants to be saving your ass all the time.
He's always hated being drowned.
A touch on his shoulder jerks him back to the present, and he's suddenly reminded that Alexander is there - having to watch him come apart like this, probably regretting ever bringing it up.
"I'm sorry," he says, voice teary, feeling like a child who just broke a vase. Useless and weak and wrong and too late. "I didn't mean to make you feel like-" who cares, it's done. "I'll do better," he promises, because it's all he can do, and hopes it's enough.
"Hey," he hears Alexander say, "it's okay. You didn't do anything wrong, just- hey, look at me," he says, hands slowly tilting Magnus' face so he can look into his eyes.
It's unbearable. The way he looks at Magnus - he's so worried, like he believes there's a legitimate reason for this outburst, and what does Magnus have to say for himself? He doesn't even know why he's crying, why he would react like this, when all he had to do was tell Alexander that he's fine. Because he is. He's been trying to be good for Alexander, that's all- is trying to be perfect because shouldn't he be trying to be?
But none of this comes out. Instead, it's more sobs and tears. Words fail him, and isn't it fitting?
"I-" he begins, desperate to just keep himself together. "I'm sorry, I don't know where all of this came from, I'll just-" he tries to shove past Alexander, go upstairs, go anywhere he can take a breath in because right now he can't handle all this, because Alexander is looking at him like that and he has no idea what to do, how to make this right, how it even went wrong in the first place, because he was supposed to be fine he thought he was doing it right-
Alexander grabs him.
Gentle, but firm, in typical Alexander fashion. And just like that, Magnus halts, and stares at him, like the act of holding one's shoulders is somehow groundbreaking enough for his entire world to tip off balance. He feels lost, a blind man in unknown territory.
It's too much. He needs to leave. Needs to leave, needs to leave, needs to leave, needs to-
"Don't leave," he finds himself saying instead. Then, as it downs on him, "oh God, please don't leave." His fists find themselves hitting Alexander's chest weakly, and he hides his face in his shoulders, more tears falling down with even more force than before, which is absurd, but true nonetheless. It's like the last remnants of the dam are gone and there's nothing he can do to stop the flood but wait it out and redo everything later. He stops fighting it, tears and words alike flowing through him like he's nothing but a mean to them. "Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave, please, Alexander, please, don't leave."
"Magnus," Alexander says, cupping his face and looking at him, "I won't."
Magnus tries to catch his breath, just now realizing that he's cupping Alexander's face, too, and that Alexander has his eyes closed with such grief hiding in them as he touches their foreheads, and Magnus is hit with a wave of deja vu as he realizes that the last time they were in this position... Well, he was also begging Alexander to stay.
He's punched at once with all the events of that day, with the worthlessness he felt, with the despair that hit him when he realized, after he had just said that he didn't know what he'd do without Alexander, that Alexander was telling him he'd have to figure it out, because he had failed again and Alexander had gotten tired, and it was so scary, but also known in a way that told him he was a fool for ever thinking he could forget how it felt. He cries harder, head hurting and spinning and chest constricted, because he never wants to go through that again-
Alexander is saying something. "I'm here for you." Over and over again. A chant. A promise. He breathes. He can breathe.
Alexander sweeps him in his arms and takes him to the couch. He has the space now, but he just curls in on Alexander's lap, trying to hide himself and to pierce himself back together, but he's stroking Magnus' hair and telling him that he loves him and that he won't leave and that it's okay, and crying so much has left Magnus' head buzzing and empty, and his eyelids are so, so heavy with tears.
----------
He wakes up to find his head on Alexander's lap and his eyes still dry and hurting from crying.
A slow ache is forming between his brows, the remnants of emotional tiredness resting deep in his skull.
"Oh, dear," he says as he gets up, playing with the lobe of his ear sheepishly, "that was intense."
"It was," Alexander answers, matter-of-fact, as he hands him a cup of water that had somehow made its way to the nighstand. "Come on, you're probably dehydrated," he continues when all Magnus does is look at him.
He drinks the water.
The ache dulls a little.
He snaps his fingers, refilling the water, and drinks it again.
The ache is gone.
He looks at Alexander.
He's looking back at Magnus, elbows resting on his knees and hands held together.
His eyes are beautiful and his expression is open.
Magnus stares at his cup.
"Whenever you're ready," Alexander says, gently. Not demanding, but reassuring.
His eyes water a little, but he holds it together.
Perfect stillness.
It stretches between them, as Alexander looks at him and he doesn't look at Alexander. He knows he has no ways of running away now.
He doesn't know if he wants to run away anymore.
He sighs.
"I was just trying to be nice."
"Magnus-" Alexander begins, tone dripping with disbelief, but Magnus raises a finger to his lips, and he immediately silences.
"Let me finish," he says, finally looking at him, and he knows how vulnerable he must look right now- puffy eyes still watery at the edges, tiredness present on every inch of his features, no trace of smile on his face. He hopes it's enough for Alexander to see that the pretense is gone. It seems to be, for everything in his demeanor immediately softens, "I was just trying to be nice. But not for the right reasons. I was just scared."
Alexander nods, and he looks away. He knows he's curling in on himself, nearly hugging his knees, but he's willing to draw whatever small comfort he can find in order to make this conversation easier. Alexander seems to understand that, too, because he doesn't comment, and Magnus is grateful for that.
"I've never been married," Magnus continues, "in 800 years. Because I've never met anyone who would."
Alexander looks like he's about to say something, but thinks better of it and stays silent, waiting for him to continue. He's grateful for that, too.
"I don't think I've been doing it on purpose. I'm just- used to it," he presses on, as the words coming out of him slowly start to feel less like blood and more like breath, "I please people. I give them what they want. They stay. It's been working so far, so why not-" he trails off. "I didn't want to lose you again. I know why you did what you did, but- I had just begun to believe that I could afford to- to be vulnerable. After so many years being told I was too much, impossible to handle, affected by everything, impossible to be around-" he feels himself slip away, almost in a trance, as he repeats the word Camille has said to him so many times before, and he forces himself back to the present, "You held me and watched me cry and told me you wanted to be there for me. And I had started to believe that it could be different, but then- you broke up with me, because it was too much, because you couldn't stand me, and I- I know it's not your fault," he adds hastily, because he sees the hurt that forms on Alexander's eyes, and he shouldn't feel guilty over things other people did, "This is on me." Then, because Alexander frowns, "I appreciate what you did- I really do. You saved my life, I know that, and you did it all for me, I know, and I'm grateful, I am, you have to believe me-"
"I believe you," he says simply, cutting through the beginning of Magnus' panic with prefect, clean efficiency. Magnus allows himself to breathe as he feels his hands being held, Alexander's thumb circling over his palm, "it's okay."
"I guess it set me back. I didn't want to- I didn't want to ruin any more dinners, I wanted things to be perfect, because I wanted you- to stay," he continues, voice breaking, "and this is the only way I know- the day of our wedding, I had never been happier, and if I ruined this again, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. So I didn't want to take you for granted, or take up too much space, or to bore you- you've done so much for me already, and I just wanted to be- good," his hands are flailing now, "but you're right, it was fake, and I didn't really notice what I was doing, I'm just used to it, but I'll do better, I promise-"
"Magnus," Alexander cuts him off again, voice and eyes flashing with the kind of intense certainty that gets every single cell of your body to pay attention to what one says, "you don't owe me anything."
Magnus swallows.
"You've never- First of all, I'm the one who's always getting you involved, I mean, do you have any idea how many times you've helped me?"
"Of course I did."
"You chose to. You could have told me and the other shadowhunters to find someone else to help, or to pay you grandly, or never even opened the door at all, and you had every right to, too-”
“That’d be absurd.”
“It wouldn’t. It would be reasonable. You helped us because you cared, just like I’m here with you because I care.” He makes another pause, that intensity flashing through him again like a bolt of lightning, and all of Magnus silences at once, “I told you. I’ll catch you when you fall. You don’t- bore me, or take up space, or, or any of the things you said. You can’t take what’s already yours.” Another pause, “Every single moment that I’m with you, I’m happy. Even when the world is ending, just having you there is- it’s enough. You’re never too loud, because I always want to listen to you. You’re never too dramatic, because every pain you feel is already more than I ever want you to. You’re never too demanding, because I want to give you the world. You’re never too much because I can’t get enough of you. Magnus, don’t you get it?” He holds both of Magnus’ hands, and Magnus is taken aback by the sudden movement, “I don’t love you in spite of. I love you because. All I want from you is for you to be you- that’s a lot of yous,” he pauses, then chuckles, then takes his serious face again, “That’s all I need. I don’t want anything else.”
Magnus stares at him. His mind is so silent it’s buzzing. His entire body feels on edge, like he’s been struck with lightning. It seems Alexander’s intensity has gotten to him.
“And I’m sorry,” he continues, hand reaching out to stroke Magnus’ face, “I’m sorry that I made you feel this way, and I’m sorry that you had to go so long without being appreciated like you deserve to be. But I swear to you- and this is another promise - you’re going to unlearn all of that. We will take every single thing that Asmodeus, or Camille, or whoever else, has ever taught you about relationships, and we will burn it to the ground. There’s no space for that anymore.” And then once again, for emphasis, “I love you, Magnus. I really, truly, love you. So much, you can’t even understand.”
And the thing is, Alec is bad at lying.
But there’s nothing about what he said that doesn’t sound absolutely true - not a single word. It flows out of him so naturally, so surely, every word punches him in the gut.
“You can’t promise that,” Magnus says, voice croaking.
“I just did,” he answers stubbornly, an edge of defiance to his voice that's almost endearing, and Magnus smiles, despite himself, and hugs him. More tears fall down his face. No sobs, no intense clutching. Just the tears, rolling silently, being allowed out for the first time in so long they don’t need to burst out of him with enough strength to take him apart. He rests his head on Alec’s shoulder, and he knows he is dampening his shirt, but he can’t - won’t? - can’t- stop.
It seems they stay like this forever, until Magnus looks up at him.
“Do you forgive me?” Alexander says, and it’s so absurd Magnus actually giggles.
“No, I thank you,” he answers, “for telling me that. For- for not giving up on me.” Then, just for good measure, “I think you’ll keep surprising me forever, Alexander.”
“No,” Alexander says, holding him closer, “someday it won’t be a surprise anymore.”