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Alec closed his eyes against the sunrise, the pinpricks of white-hot light too much for his eyes to handle this early in the morning. It was nearly 5am, and most of the world was still waking up, neon signs blinking to OPEN in the windows of nearby businesses, tired mundanes getting in their cars half-asleep to drive to another day at whatever job it was that they loved and hated in equal measure. It was all so much, and yet not enough at the same time.
The world felt like it was too small, despite the vastness that Alec knew existed in and beyond the streets of New York. It felt like this was all there was, all there would ever be - other days, other moments, exactly like this one, one after the other until the day he died. It was a miserable feeling.
He was self-aware enough to recognise that he needed an escape - something to take him away from the smallness of his own world, the permanence of his own situation. This was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life, and he hated it. He needed something, anything, to remind him that he was alive, that there was more to life than balancing on a tightrope he didn’t even know why he still had to walk after all these years.
His thoughts briefly turned to Magnus, and then to the training center on the roof. He took a deep, controlled breath. So it was that kind of day again. He should’ve known.
It was too early for Magnus to be awake, and Alec worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he considered his next move. He knew he could wake Magnus if he needed to; his husband would never be mad or upset with him, not for this. It was an option, one of a few that he needed to weigh.
Beside him on the balcony side table, Alec’s phone laid, face-up - on it, he knew, were the numbers of three people he could call for support.
Jace was one of them; his parabatai knew that he struggled, even if he didn’t exactly understand why, and their bond meant that he, at the very least, wasn’t horribly inept at finding the right words to say to talk Alec off the blood-stained ledge. It was always hard for Alec to admit he needed help, especially to Jace, but he knew that when push came to shove, his parabatai could help him, and he would. He was an option, too.
Izzy was another contact that he could call, but Alec was hesitant to place her on the list with Jace and Magnus. She was his little sister, his charge, the person he had cared for since the day she was born. Jace was too, in a way, but Jace was honest about himself and his needs, at least, and Alec trusted him to say if he couldn’t handle something. Izzy had no such sense of self-preservation; she would follow Alec to Hell and back if it meant fixing him, and Alec knew that, try as she might, he couldn’t be fixed. It wasn’t about that.
He heaved a sigh, shaking his head. No, he couldn’t put that pressure, that weight, on his little sister. He would never forgive himself.
The third option was Andrew, who had become an unlikely ally in the past year or so, ever since Alec and Magnus’s wedding. Alec knew Andrew was grateful for him, grateful to have someone in charge that respected him regardless of who he loved, but it was more than that. Andrew understood him, in ways that not even Magnus could. They were different, but all too much the same.
Alec picked his phone up, hesitating. He’d never called Andrew about this before. They’d shared beers together and talked about their relationships, and Andrew had shared things with Alec that Alec knew weren’t easy to let go of. Andrew wouldn’t judge him, that much he was certain of; but the fact was, Alec still had no idea what to expect. He hovered over the call button, his hands clenching and unclenching in the fabric of his sweatpants.
I can’t do it.
It was too risky; too many unknowns, too many factors that he couldn’t predict. He couldn’t walk into a situation like this blind. He trusted Andrew, but he was also Andrew’s commanding officer. Even out of the office, Alec knew he was expected to act as a leader, to be the image and faith of the New York Institute at all times. Being friends with Andrew didn’t change that.
So that left two people. Alec raked a hand down the length of his face, letting out a heavy sigh. He was so tired. He was goddamn exhausted and there was nothing he could do about it. This was just who he was.
Alec closed his eyes and allowed himself to entertain the only option that he hadn’t considered yet: calling, or speaking, to no one, stopping his battle entirely; giving up and giving in and allowing himself the comfort his punching bag would bring, the relief that would flood his veins like ice when he felt his own blood drip-dripping onto the rooftop below. The escape that it would give him.
Alec took a deep breath, trying to chase away those thoughts, the temptation to stop fighting himself and surrender. He couldn’t let them fester for long, couldn’t let the temptation grow; he of all people knew how dangerous they were, how dangerous they could be if he let any of them stay.
No. I’m a month clean. I’m not ruining it for this.
He wouldn’t force Magnus to go through this again, he couldn’t. Magnus was so proud the other week when they’d both realised the date. Alec felt tears pooling in his eyes, and he blinked them away in frustration. He wondered just how proud Magnus would be if he could see him now.
It was a harsh blow to Alec’s ego to realise that he wasn’t safe; that he couldn’t keep himself safe without support. His hands were shaking, and he let out a ragged breath, trying to ignore it. This wasn’t working. He needed to talk to someone, he needed to talk to someone now or he was going to ruin his progress and reset the clock and he was tired of it. He just wanted to get better, for everyone’s sake.
Do it. Do it. You know you want to. Just do it.
Alec grit his teeth until his jaw hurt, trying to ignore the call of the rooftop, the punching bag, the blood, the pain. It had been too long. He needed it.
No! I don’t need it, I don’t need it, I don’t need it.
But I want it.
Alec let out a frustrated breath, vaguely aware of one of the tears from before slipping down his cheek. He wiped it away angrily. He didn’t have anything to cry over; this was nothing, this was something he should be able to deal with. It made him blind with frustration and hatred - hatred for himself - to know he still couldn’t do this, not without help.
But he was tired, and he was starting to think it didn’t matter, not really. He was tired of all the temporary replacements for real escapes, he was tired of being miserable and he was tired of calculating and for once in his life, Alec just wanted to reach out and take a chance. He was done trying, tired of fighting against himself in this unwinnable battle between opposing sides of his mind, when all he had to do was reach out and take one of the hands that were always offered to him. He was done with beating his fists bloody, done with digging his nails into his skin when his siblings and husband turned their backs, done with the hiding and the lying and the pain.
He was done.
“Magnus?” Alec called, turning away from the balcony and into the loft. “Are you awake?” As he made his way to their bedroom, his decision made, the ground beneath him seemed to shift, settle. Like it knew, somehow, that he was making the right choice.