Chapter Text
How do I trust again?
I stay up all night.
Tell myself it’s alright
Put the record on, way too loud on our song.
Just dancing with your ghost.
How would I love again?
Baby you’re just harder to see more than most .
“Alec.”
The hunter whips around at the sound of his Magnus’ voice. It’s happening; he’s finally losing it. Surprisingly, he’s lasted a full twelve months before his brain betrayed him in the cruelest way.
Blue eyes fill with tears when they take in the sight of Magnus, instantly clocking the transparent form of his former husband.
Which means this is real.
Magnus is here.
Before Alec can think twice, he rushes over to Magnus, tears streaming down his face as his arms hold him for a second. One solitary second is all he gets before his arms go right through Magnus, the ghostly form of his love unable to stay solid enough for prolonged contact.
“H- how? I tried- we tried- everything. We couldn’t bring you back.” Alec needs Magnus to know that he tried, that he did everything he could to bring him back. All of it fell right through his fingers; potions, spells, and things so forbidden that even the Clave wouldn’t give a name to them.
Magnus bites his lip. This is exactly what he was afraid of; Alec looks like he hasn’t even tried to exist since he died.
According to the other habitants of Heaven the afterlife was pure bliss but, in his year of being there, Magnus hadn’t experienced it. From the moment he’d stepped through those gates however, there had always been something that felt off. At first it had been just a faint flicker of a feeling and then that feeling grew and grew until his life came rushing back to him; all the people and places he missed now that he was de- gone.
He’s still not sure how his friend bought back his spirit, even if it is just for a few hours. He knows better than to ask and judging from his husband’s broken expression, it’s the right call.
“Shh, sh I know, Alexander, I know. It’s okay, I’m here.”
Alec’s frame shakes with the sobs wrenching their way out of his body, all the grief and pain he’d bottled up and hidden away breaking free like a dam collapsing. He swipes furiously at his eyes, desperate to remove the tears from his vision so he can keep his eyes on Magnus.
He’s far too terrified to ask if this is a dream. He needs this to be real, even the ghost of Magnus is better than nothing. Angel above, Alec hopes it’s not. That this is somehow real.
Magnus always could read his husband like a book and death has done nothing to change that. “It’s real. Alexander, I’m here.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so - I’m sorry.”
Magnus focuses, trying his best to cup Alec’s face in his hands, only for them to pass through a moment later. But he’ll take the moment. Cherish it, even. Especially if his earlier suspicion is correct and this is all temporary. Heaven never gave up it’s people willingly, afterall.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare apologize for, for any of it. Alexander, there is no blame to place.”
Alec shakes his head, as viciously as the hate he’d spewn at the Clave when Magnus was taken from him all too soon.
“There is. You should never have been put in that position!”
Magnus smiles; Alec was always passionate. At least Magnus’ death hasn’t taken that from Alec.
“Dance with me.” Magnus points at their favorite record.
Alec looks like he wants to argue, like he will even, but then there's a minute shift. One no one but Magnus would notice. It’s enough to seriously worry him. Still, he won’t waste their time together.
As familiar notes fill their penthouse, Magnus holds up his hands. “Dance with me, love.”
Alec looks like he may break. “H- how?” hiccuping sobs still wrack his frame, “We can’t even hold hands.”
Magnus shakes his head. “We don’t need to. Just, hold your hands like this.” Patient as always, he waits till his archer holds up his hands in surrender.
Alec starts to shake as Magnus mirrors him and guides him through their living room and around the kitchen, past his potions room and the door of their bedroom. It’s a dance that neither of them thought they would get again.
All too soon, Magnus sees the first signs of sunrise. Somehow, he knows that once the sun rises, he won’t be allowed to linger.
“Listen,” he pushes every ounce of authority he can muster from his wavering throat into his voice. “Alexander, I need you to look at me.”
Blue eyes that have been trained on him since the moment he appeared narrow in confusion. “Magnus, what-?”
“Alexander, I need you to hear me; you have to stop . You need to let me go. Grieve me, let yourself fall apart. I don’t know how much more time I have but I need you to remember that I love you, that I blame no one, and neither should you, for my death.” Two lies in. Magnus may as well add a third. “I’m happy where I am. So please, let me have peace; let me go.”
Alec shakes his head, a rebuttal clear on his lips.
Light begins to creep into the room. Magnus leans forward, anxious as he presses a kiss to his husband’s lips. In that moment, they’re both shocked that he’s solid. And then he’s gone.
Alec is left standing in the living room of their house, the ghost of a kiss lingering on his lips as he allows the tears to fill his vision now.
Now, Alec understands the meaning of dancing with someone’s ghost though he’s not sure he wants to.
Like a puppet whose strings have been cut, he collapses onto the cold wood floor, barely registering when he lands painfully on his knees. Alec is unable to breathe as pure, unending grief, somehow even worse than what he’d felt before, rips through him.