Chapter Text
There's blood everywhere on him. Julian cannot stop feeling the weight of Livvy (oh, his sweet little Livvy) in his arms. A part of him doesn't want to let go of the blood. The proof of his sister's murder. That's why he keeps a piece of her cloth with him. He can't forget what happened to Livvy, and he needs to make people pay.
Rage and grief and hatred should be the only things he feels, yet they aren't. Somehow, there is still space in his heart for love, for Emma, for his siblings, and all that somehow makes it all worse. He can't concentrate on what he has to do. He's broken, something was twisted open inside him. (The clock of a parent that never stops ticking when you lose a child)
The only thing that can make it stop is Emma. His sweet, dear, Emma. He needs her more than he's ever needed her before. He wants to lose himself in her, inside of her, in her pleasure. But he can't. He's denied even this small reprieve.
His heart aches in so many ways, some of them literal, as he runs in the rain to where Magnus is. He shouldn't do this, but he has to. He has a mission, and feelings and desire (that damn, doomed, desire, so singular yet all consuming. If only he could've fallen for someone else, but he never could. Didn't want to. He could lose himself in Emma, let himself burn. But he can't) are a distraction.
Maybe this is what the last five years have pushed him towards, these years of raising children as a mere child himself, and loving and longing from afar, from losing his sister (his child) because of his failed machinations. He doesn't have much more of himself left.
But what he has left, he'll gladly sacrifice for his family, for his children and siblings and Emma and Diana. He can't become a monster, can't be consumed by the curse, not until he's avenged Livvy. Not until Emma and the rest of his family is safe.
"I have nothing else I can do and nowhere else I can go." He begs Magnus for the spell to remove eros, all those dirty emotions, from him. Magnus tries to caution him, but Julian has nothing left. This is his last option. "Please. I don't have anything left to lose."
"Yes, you do. Oh yes, you do."
After, Julian walks back to the house in the rain. His thoughts are vague, his emotions muted. You'd think it would hurt, to have a part of you ripped open and shut down. And it did hurt. But for some reason, Julian doesn't mind. He doesn't care at all. (But of course, it's a lot more complicated than that)