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Alec is sixteen when his wings come in.
He knows it's not a good thing the moment he sees the first black feathers protruding from the flesh at his back. He’s heard of the occasional Nephilim growing wings, a result of their angelic blood, but they’re always white or gold. The dark coloring of his own feathers worries him.
He hides his wings as long as he can, no longer training shirtless, always keeping his back hidden, and it works for a while. Until it doesn’t. Until the wings create an obvious lump in the fabric of his shirt.
Maryse notices first and he’s forced to show the wings to his parents.
They aren’t big, stretching from the skin around his spine to barely reach past his arms, but the feathers are dark as night. He sees the horror, the disgust in his parents’ eyes as they study his new appendages.
"We have to remove them," Maryse says, moving behind him to study his wings.
Alec sees his father nod in agreement, his face hard. "No one can know."
"We'll draw Iratzes, for the pain. Kneel on the floor so we can have a better view of... them."
Alec sinks to his knees, folding his hands in his lap because what else can he do? If even his parents can’t accept them then no one will. He’ll lose the wings in exchange for keeping his life, his runes, his home.
He feels the familiar burn of a stele drawing runes on his back before Maryse steps away. "Tell me when it's done."
Robert nods and Alec hears Maryse leave the room, the door slamming shut behind her. He barely manages not to flinch as he prepares himself to lose his wings. Robert is brandishing his seraph blade and he thinks it will be over in a matter of seconds.
However, the adamas slices through the feathers without making a mark, without a hint of pain. Robert tugs at a handful of feathers, as if confirming they’re real and tangible. They come out in his palm and Alec curls his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms, at the sharp pain. At least it fades quickly. He stays where he is, knowing they're not done.
When the seraph blade doesn’t work, Robert tries a regular mundane knife. It cuts through the skin and feathers, making Alec’s eyes fill with tears, but it’s not sharp enough to cut through the bone.
Robert throws the knife to the side in a fit of rage, muttering something about abominations. Alec holds back his tears, his feathers matted with blood. He doesn’t expect the feel of hands on his wings so when Robert grabs one, he jolts. He peers over his shoulder in time to see Robert snap the wing backwards, cleanly breaking the bone, his strength rune activated.
Alec cries out, mostly in shock. The pain is, of course, excruciating, but pain is nothing new. There are already multiple Iratzes drawn along his back in preparation, but they don’t quell the pain. Alec stares at the wing, broken and folded in against his back, drooping slightly, and feels his stomach twist.
Robert’s hands land on his other wing and Alec digs his fingers into his legs, squeezing his eyes shut. This time he manages to keep silent when he hears the bone crack. Pain radiates through the limbs and down Alec’s back. He can’t stop the tears from falling down his face, but at least he cries silently.
“You know I don’t like hurting you,” Robert says, matter-of-factly. “But this had to be done. They couldn’t be allowed to grow any larger. We will find a way to remove them, but for now this will ensure that they stay hidden. Don’t allow them to unfold, understand?”
“Yes sir.” The words are spoken in a low voice, steady voice.
He hears Robert pick up the knife and leave the room, probably aware of Alec’s pain and, more importantly, his emotions. He’s giving Alec the chance to pull himself together.
Alec takes a moment to mourn his broken wings before he takes in a shuddering breath, forcing himself to stop crying. He presses his hand to one of his wings, feeling the blood dried over it, no doubt a result of the Iratzes. Alec drops his hand. He wipes his face and forces himself to his feet. Pain isn't excuse to get out of his responsibilities.
Even so, his entire back aches for weeks afterwards.
His parents make several more attempts to rid him of the wings, including a couple very painful runes, but nothing works. Eventually the crippled wings become just another part of Alec’s life, something he's only distantly aware of. He makes sure no one ever sees him shirtless.
Even Isabelle and Jace remain oblivious to the monstrous obtrusions that grow from his back. He can’t handle the idea of seeing the horror that was so clear on his parents’ faces reflected on his siblings'. No one needs to know. And, if feathers are occasionally found in odd places around the Institute, Alec pretends not to notice.
Alec thinks he could have lived the rest of his life like that. The wings are just one more thing he has to hide.
Things change when he meets Magnus Bane.
When they start dating, Alec carefully ensures that Magnus never touches him where he might feel the wings. He pulls away when make out sessions threaten to become more, when Magnus hands move to the hem of his shirt. He wants to go further, but how can he do that when he can’t let Magnus see him shirtless?
It crosses Alec’s mind that perhaps Magnus knows a way to get rid of the wings, might even help him for a discount. But he can’t bring himself to ask. He doesn’t think Magnus would appreciate his boyfriend becoming his client, just another person needing a magical fix.
Alec knows he can’t continue like this forever, but he’s terrified of showing the wings to his boyfriend. Every time he considers it, he sees the disgust in his mother’s eyes, feels his father’s hands in his feathers, hears the snap of bones breaking.
The issue is forced into the light by a mission gone wrong. A demon claws through the fabric of Alec's shirt, leaving a few painful scratches in Alec’s chest. He banishes the demon with a thrust of his seraph blade, but he can feel the venom spreading through his body.
Magnus takes out the remainder of the demons in a blaze of red magic before turning with the clear intention to heal Alec’s chest. He tugs at the hem of Alec’s shirt, but Alec stumbles back before his wings can be revealed.
Alec catches the look of confused hurt on Magnus’ face as he pulls out his stele instead. He clears his throat, “No point wasting magic when I can use a rune.” He lifts his shirt just high enough to draw an Iratze on his hip.
That should have been the end of it, but Alec, exhausted, agrees to sleep at Magnus loft with him. It isn't the first time he's stayed the night, but he should have expected Magnus to ask about the wounds, which he does almost instantly.
Magnus has barely handed him a change of clothes, boxers and a T-shirt, when he asks, “How is your chest?”
Alec blinks at him. “It’s fine. I healed it.”
There’s something in Magnus’ face that Alec can’t decipher, but he doesn’t like it. Magnus looks... unhappy. “Alexander. Are you hiding something from me?”
Alec feel a tightness closing in around his heart. He berates himself for not moving faster, for not ducking out of the way of the demon’s attack. He clutches the clothing in his hands to his chest. “What?”
Magnus frowns at him with a thoughtful expression, summoning a glass of clear liquid that is most likely not water. He sips at it while Alec watches silently, frozen. “I thought you were just body shy or nervous. But today... You didn’t want me to see your chest, even to heal the demon venom.”
It’s a fair statement, but Alec feels his hair stand on end. He moves his gaze to the carpet.
He doesn’t want to lie. He’s a terrible liar anyways. He also doesn’t want to tell the truth.
He settles on reiterating his earlier statement. “I didn’t need it, runes don’t use energy and you needed your magic for more important stuff.”
Magnus’ eyes narrow before he turns away to look out the window at the night sky. “Please, Alexander, don’t lie to me. If you don’t want to tell me what you’re hiding just say so. Don’t make me doubt myself.”
“I’m sorry.” He is sorry. He hopes Magnus can hear it in his voice. One of his wings gives a useless twitch against his back. “You’re right. I just... I don’t want you to look at me differently. I can’t... Magnus, you look at me like no one has before. Like I’m something special. I’m scared to lose that.”
The honesty, surprising even Alec himself, makes Magnus glance back at him. “You are beautiful.”
Alec fidgets, fighting down his habitual response to argue. Instead, he tells the truth, let's Magnus see another vulnerable piece of him. “I don’t want this to change your mind.”
Magnus closes the distance between them, tracing Alec’s cheek with his thumb, a gentle touch that Alec leans into. “What makes you think I’d ever change my mind about you?”
It’s too much to have Magnus so close, touching him so sweetly, speaking so gently when he's about to lose Magnus entirely. Alec can’t convince himself that Magnus will be okay with this. Alec thinks it would break him if he learned to completely trust Magnus, only to have him react badly at the sight of Alec's wings.
So he takes a step back, drops the clothes in his arms and sheds off his leather jacket. He pulls his shirt over his head, always a bit of a hassle with his wings, and turns so Magnus can see the deformed limbs sprouting from his spine. He stares at Magnus’ carpet, jaw clenched, determined to keep himself composed.
Alec hears a sharp intake of air from behind him. He balls up the torn shirt in his hands, trying to explain, “Some Nephilim are born with wings. Not many. I don’t know why I have them.”
“They grew like this?” Magnus says, his voice surprisingly soft. Alec risks a glance over his shoulder and sees Magnus’ face carefully wiped of any emotion.
“No one has ever had black wings, until me.”
Magnus raises a hand, like he wants to touch one of the wings, but lowers it before he can, using both hands to hold his wineglass. Alec is equal parts relieved and disappointed. “They look... broken.”
Alec turns his gaze back to the carpet. “Nephilim with wings are typically looked up to, seen as blessed, but they all have gold or white wings. Black wings are seen as an omen or a curse.”
Magnus seems to realize that he’s skirting around the truth. “Someone did this to you?”
Finally, Alec hears the horror and disgust he’d expected. He swallows hard. “They couldn’t be removed. My father broke them so they wouldn’t grow, so I could hide them.”
The sound of glass shattering makes Alec jump and spin around. Shards litter Magnus’ carpet. His hands are wet, his glass obliterated. Alec stares as Magnus clears his throat and waves a hand to clear the mess. His eyes, full of fire, meet Alec’s.
“Robert did this?” Magnus echoes, glancing over one of Alec’s shoulders before looking back at his face.
Alec’s eyebrows draw in, showing his confusion at Magnus’ response. “I had to hide them. They would have kept growing.” Alec watches the way Magnus' fingers spark with red magic. “Are you... angry?”
“Of course I am.” Magnus pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.
Alec digs his nails into his palms. “Because I didn’t tell you?”
“What? No, darling, I’m not upset about that.” Magnus drops his hand to his side, his face soft. “I’m horrified and furious about what Robert did to you.”
“He was...” Alec’s voice is hesitant. “He was trying to protect...” He wants to say Robert was trying to protect him, but he knows better. His parents were only ever concerned with protecting the Lightwood name. Alec sighs. “I believed he was trying to help me at the time. And maybe he did, in a way. No one learned about my wings.”
Magnus doesn’t look reassured. “Did it hurt?”
Alec doesn’t say anything which seems to be enough of an answer for Magnus.
“May I touch them?”
It’s the last thing Alec expects, but he nods, turning again so his back is facing Magnus. After a moment he feels familiar fingers caress a feather on his right wing, the touch gentle. Alec had never imagined anyone would touch his wings in such a caring way and his eyes fall closed as a sense of calm settles beneath his skin. Magnus touches a few feathers, straightening them, before his fingers skim the wing bone. It had healed over time, but in a way that left the wings crushed against Alec’s back.
“I don’t know how anyone could look at these and see anything but angelic beauty.”
The words make Alec’s eyes sting with tears. He holds them back, toying with the shirt in his hands for something to do with them. He wants to collapse into Magnus’ hold, bury his face in Magnus’ neck and seep out every bit of comfort he’s offering.
“Can I heal them?”
Alec jolts. Magnus’ hand falls from his wing as he faces the warlock. “Heal them? I thought you’d want to...” He shakes his head. “I thought you would hate them- hate me because of them.”
Magnus purses his lips, reaching out to hold and squeeze Alec’s arm. “I could never hate you. Especially not because of anything with your appearance. Your wings are stunning, even broken in this way. Just imagine the way they would shine if they weren't forced to fold in on themselves.”
“You couldn’t-” Alec stops, unsure of how Magnus will take what he’s about to say. He squeezes his eyes shut so he won’t see Magnus’ reaction. “You couldn’t get rid of them, could you?”
“Alexander,” Magnus breathes and Alec can hear the pain in his voice. He keeps his eyes tightly shut. “Can I show you something?”
Alec slowly opens his eyes, settling on Magnus’ face. The warlock looks almost nervous. Alec hesitates, but nods.
Magnus blinks and when his eyes reopen they’ve changed. Of course Alec has seen glimpses of Magnus’ true eyes, has seen the photos of them that the Institute has. They don't do the eyes justice. Magnus' irises glow a brilliant gold, radiating power. Surrounded by Magnus’ dark makeup they look almost angelic even given their demonic existence.
“They’re beautiful,” Alec breathes, captivated.
The smile he gets in return is one of the softest, most honest things he’s ever seen on Magnus’ face. “Thank you. Do you know how many people have hated them? Have hated me for them? My own mother believed they were evidence that I was a monster. Would you suggest I remove them? Or permanently change them, given the option?”
“No, never,” Alec says vehemently, only realizing Magus’ argument afterwards. He lets out a breath. “You can hide them though, around mundanes and... others.”
Magnus nods in understanding. “If I cast a glamour on your wings- whenever you need it, will you let me heal them?”
“Are you sure that’s okay? You won't use too much magic on them?”
Magnus’ golden eyes peer up at him, as if he’s attempting to understand the question. “Glamours are simple magic, easily done. It will last until you ask me to remove it, which I hope you will, I’d very much like to see more of them.”
Alec still hesitates. It’s a step outside of his comfort zone. But he finds a part of him aching to see his wings restored. Especially with the way Magnus is looking at him, like he’s something precious. “Okay.”
Magnus leans in to place a soft kiss to his lips, lasting only seconds, before nudging him to turn around. “I’ll try to make this painless, but the bones healed wrong, they need to be re-broken to heal properly. It will probably hurt for a moment.”
He hadn’t expected anything else. He recalls the almost unbearable pain from so many years ago under his father’s hands. He steadies himself to feel it again. “That’s fine.”
Alec feels the warmth first, the familiar tingle of Magnus’ magic. The pain is sharper and makes him grit his teeth, but it isn’t so consuming with the comfort of the healing magic around it and only lasts a few seconds. Alec feels his wing shifting, the magic coursing through it. When it fades, Alec glances back at his right wing. It’s slightly longer, but only barely. Robert had undoubtedly stunted its growth.
“The left wing now,” Magnus says softly as his fingers trail through the feathers on Alec’s wings. The movement makes him shudder, surprised at how much he enjoys it.
Magnus repeats the process with Alec’s left wing and Alec barely manages to keep his tears at bay. He reaches for one of the feathers that’s brushing over his arm, rubbing it between two fingers. He tries to imagine how Magnus sees his wings. Beautiful, powerful, soft.
“How do you feel?”
Alec spins and wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, curling into him. His wings flutter and slowly fold in as well, as if he can somehow hold Magnus more. In response, Magnus’ hands encircle his back, one of his hands combing through the feathers at the bottom of his right wing.
“Thank you,” Alec whispers, voice heavy with emotion. He hopes Magnus knows he’s thanking him for more than simply healing the limbs, but for making Alec feel as if they weren’t a curse forced upon him. Based on Magnus soft hold, his reverent hands, the light kiss he places to Alec’s cheek, he thinks Magnus understands.
He holds Magnus tighter and finally, finally, feels a weight lift from his shoulders that had settled there so long ago.