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“Are you alright?” Julian had stepped closer to him, resting his hand on Ty’s shoulder. Ty jerked away, Julian’s touch had sent a bad feeling through Ty. “I’m fine,” He hissed. He did not feel fine. He felt like he might be sick. His head was pounding and he thought his heart might beat out of his chest. There was a horrible pressure behind his eyes. He had to shove his hands into his pockets, clenching them tight, his nails digging into his palms, all to keep Julian from seeing.
Julian creased his brow, “You don’t seem fine. Did Kit do something to you?” His voice was hushed. Ty glared at the doorway, trying to will Kit to come back in the room, so he could argue with him some more. “We had a fight,” He said, his voice still razor sharp. How could Kit say that? That Ty was selfish? That he didn’t care? That he got away with anything?
“Well, Ty, people fight. That’s okay, and I’m sure that Kit will apologize if you give him some space,”
Ty snapped his head back to Julian. He stared at him. At his words. Julian stepped closer, “What’s wrong?” he asked. Ty blinked at him. Kit was right. In Julian’s eyes, Ty could never do anything wrong. “I’m fine.” He said again, and tore away from Julian. “I need to go,” He managed to mutter, his throat closing in on itself.
Julian called something after him, but Ty hardly heard, he rushed out of the library and down the halls. His feet were landing heavy with each step. The sound echoing off the walls. He was storming through the Institute, aimlessly. Muttering nonsense to himself.
He felt at war with himself.
On one side, he wanted to forgive Kit. He wanted to forgive him and forget about it all and have Kit back. Sometimes, when he was at the Scholomance, he pretended that Kit was still there. He would read something interesting, and say it out loud. Then he would wonder what Kit would say about it. What kind of jokes he would make.
The other side, wanted to never see Kit again. Wanted to prove Kit wrong. To yell at him some more and say that none of that was true.
With every storming step Ty took, that side seemed to lose, just a little more. Because, more than anything, Ty just wanted to make up with Kit. So badly, he wanted to fix this.
While his anger seemed to drift away, an ocean of guilt began to rise over him. He had been wrong.
With a grunt, Ty threw himself down the hall. He ran until he found the hall of his old bedroom. And the great big window that stood in front of it. Ty fell forward against the window, pressing his forehead against the cool glass. His breath coming in rapid pants.
“Ty,”
Ty jumped at the voice, turning around to find Livvy floating beside him. She was giving him a concerning look. “Kit left,” She said. She already knew what he was thinking, what had bothered him. Something in Ty’s heart twisted when she said that.
“Where did he go?”
“To his dad’s.”
Ty’s heart plumpted.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was so quiet. But that wasn’t weird. It had always been quiet. It had always been empty. Ready to leave at any moment. But this was a different kind of empty. It was a haunting empty. It sent a shiver through Kit’s spine.
His father’s house had been confiscated by the Clave. Everything had been cleared out and everything that had been Kit’s was returned to him. It was a Shadowhunter safe house, now. For emergencies. There was probably nothing left in it. Yet,
Yet there was something there.
Kit knew that, and he almost dreaded entering the house more than he had dreaded meeting Ty again. But it was time.
It might not even be there anymore. Knowing Johnny, he probably had things in place. Probably had someone, or some spell, to clean up his mess.
Or.
He wanted Kit to clean up for him. Kit had done it before. No one had known about Kit. And Kit had been loyal to Johnny. He was the perfect clean up crew.
Kit’s bag felt heavy on his back. He loosened a breath, he could just see it puff in the air. The evening was surprisingly cold. So Kit rushed to the door. With a few swift strokes with his stele, the open rune blazed and the door popped open. The house was, in fact, completely empty.
Nothing but chairs and a table covered in white sheets. Kit found himself sitting there, for a long moment. He wasn’t struck with emotion or memories of his dad. It was just a place. There was nothing here for him.
Unless there was. He prayed there wasn’t. But at the same time, he wasn’t sure what he would do if he got there and it wasn’t there. Kit swallowed, his mouth dry, and walked down a hall that had always felt closed off to him. He came into his father’s bedroom. He felt like he was breaking a rule, like he wasn’t allowed in here.
It was sort of thrilling. Making his heart pound, loud as a drum in his ears. There was only a bare bed in the room. Nothing else. It was the only thing in the house that was exactly the way Johnny had left it. An eerie chill went down Kit’s back, and he looked towards the closet instead.
When he opened the door, there was extra gear hanging on the rack. A duffle bag on the top shelf. Probably filled with seraph blades and stele’s. At least that was something in this room, that was purely Clave and not Johnny at all.
Kit crouched down on the carpeted floor. Slipping his pocket knife out from his back pocket. He flicked the blade open, and shoved it into the corner of the closet floor. Prying up the carpet from underneath. He peeled it back, revealing the wooden floorboards beneath. And the finger sized hole in the corner. Kit pushed his finger into the hole, and popped up the floor board. He sat back on his heels. There it was. A black book, hidden in the tiny alcove. If you could concentrate Johnny’s entire criminal career, into one single object. It would be that book.
A sudden crash sounded from the basement.
Kit grabbed the book and shoved it into his backpack. He kept his knife, open in his hand and rushed, silently, down the hall and down to the basement. It was completely dark, he could barely make out a figure was hunched by the window, looking like they had tripped and fallen. Kit didn’t waste a moment of time, he flung himself off the staircase, right at the figure.
Kit slammed them against the wall, pressing his knife to their throat, “What are you doing here?” He growled. So close to them, Kit could see as they widened their eyes. Silver eyes. “Ty?!” He hissed, pulling his face back. Ty swallowed against his blade. “H-hi,” He stuttered. Kit blinked, at him, at the knife on his throat. He pulled the knife away, but didn’t step back. “What are you doing here?” He asked again.
Ty lowered his gaze, “I’m sorry,” He said, so quietly that Kit almost didn’t hear. “You’re...what?” He wasn’t sure he had heard right. Ty looked back up at him, in his eyes. A look that stole Kit’s breath away, “I’m sorry.” He said louder, holding his head up higher. Ty licked his lips, “You were right. I was selfish, I didn’t know what I was going to do,” His expression turned pained, his voice wavered, “And...and people treat me differently.”
He took a deep breath. “But you don’t,” Ty tore his gaze away, “You don’t, and I miss that about you, and I’m sorry,” He rushed out in a single breath. Kit blinked again, what was he supposed to say? Ty missed him. He missed him.
And here, Kit had thought that Ty Blackthorn hated him. Turns out, he missed him. Kit laughed. He couldn’t help it, he laughed so hard he doubled over. Ty stared at him in surprise. Kit breathed in deep, pulling himself together and standing straight. “I forgive you, and I’m sorry, too. For yelling at you,” He grinned. Ty didn’t hate him.
A small smile pulled across Ty’s mouth. “I forgive you, too.” They stood there for a long moment, just staring at each other in the dark. Kit closed his knife and slid it in his pocket. Ty cleared his throat, “What are you doing here?” He asked. Kit’s grin fell, “Just… making sure there was nothing left for me,” He said, simply.
“Was there?”
Kit’s backpack felt weighted by stones. “No,” He said, and shrugged. “Nothing left for me here,” He glanced up the stairs, “Here,” Kit held his hand out to Ty, “I’ll take you home.” Ty took his hand, letting Kit lead him up the stairs and through the house. “Take me home on what?”
Kit smirked, “Jace and Clary arrived at the Institute just as I was leaving. So I’ll be taking you home on a motorcycle,”
“You stole Jace’s motorcycle?”
“No, I borrowed it. Without his permission. So we should go before he notices it’s gone,”
Ty laughed, and Kit wished he could bottle it in a jar and use it as medicine. A sudden jolt went through Kit, as he realized, he was going to get to drive Ty home on a motorcycle.
Kit grinned.