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Alec runs the Institute like a general.
Nobody has the heart, or courage, to tell him that he took after his mother, but his similarities with Maryse are uncanny and undeniable for anyone who has ever had the misfortune or the necessity to deal with the woman, which at the moment means every single inhabitant of the Institute one way or the other.
At the beginning it wasn't like this.
When Jia personally came to tell Alec he was to be appointed head of the New York Institute – a decision that the majority of the Council had made on the grounds of necessity and nothing else – he was happy but too occupied with learning the basics of his role, the procedures, the amount of responsibilities that they were expecting him to take upon his shoulders to really rule the place with an iron fist.
But that changed pretty fast. The moment Alec got the hang of it, he started demanding that every single procedure to do anything was followed to the letter. This was for two reasons. One, Alec is a prissy perfectionist, and in Jace's very own immortal words, rules give him a boner. Two, Alec wanted to make sure that the Institute would run as smoothly as possible, so that the Council wouldn't have nothing to complain about. In Alec's very own immortal words, They will have to explicitly say that they are firing me because I fuck a male warlock.
Alec's impressive leadership would have been way more impressive if he had a slightly larger group of people to rule, instead of Magnus, a four year old child and, occasionally, Jace. But that is about to change too because the Council is sending them thirty mundane kids – they could have gone for far less than that, of course, but the New York Institute is very big and very empty at the moment and the Council is trying to cram as many children they can in as many places they can following a quantity over quality policy, apparently – and this is happening today.
“What time is it?” Alec asks from behind the desk and a pile of folders he has been reading non-stop since yesterday, when they were delivered.
“Same time as before plus ten minutes, circa,” Magnus says. “You need to calm down.”
“They are late,” Alec points out. “They were supposed to be here half an hour ago.”
Magnus sighs, reminding himself that if he's here now instead of Bali it's because he loves this young man more than his own life. “It's not easy to move thirty children from a physical place to another physical place by walking to avoid the heart attacks it would cause kicking them through a dimensional portal.”
There was at the beginning the idea of organizing a group of warlocks who would manage the transfers through portals, but the Council gave up on the idea when they realized – quite late, honestly – that mundanes are not used to magic and while some of the kids would have probably been excited at the chance of stepping willingly into the unknown via colorful whirlpools, most of them would have probably freaked out. And you can't hoard kids if they run away, never to be seen again.
So the Council opted for an old-fashioned school field trip kind of thing. Magnus can't help but chuckle thinking that right now, all over the world, there are groups of kids walking through the streets of mundane cities, chaperoned by two or more Shadowhunters in mundane clothes.
“And these documents?” Alec shows him a bunch of them. “Pointless. They are pieces of paper with a name on it.”
“You will have to call them something.”
“There's almost nothing else on it, Magnus! We know nothing about them. They just scooped up a large number of random kids to drop them here and there. Unbelievable!”
“You will learn who they are along the way, it is what you'd do with Nephilim-born anyway. Their past or their present don't really matter. Everything's going to be new for them.”
“Until they get used to it and then die!” Alec raises his voice, more in panic than anger. “I can't do this.”
“Well, not with that sunny attitude, you can't,” Magnus comments, one of his eyebrows flying to his hairline.
The expression on his husband's face when he looks up at him makes him reconsider not only his presence in the room, but also the idea of marrying a Lightwood and the whole living among the Nephilim. There must be at least a thousand places on this planet and other dimensions where he could be safer than right here right now after saying those words.
“Magnus, we're talking about real lives here,” he says sternly. “This is not going to be a summer camp. Ascension is dangerous.”
“True that, but the number of deaths as a consequence of it are not as high as you picture them.”
“We're going to have a class of thirty kids,” Alec points out. “Statistically speaking, we're going to have to deal for sure with at least two or three kids dying.”
Magnus hisses through his teeth. He did not know the numbers. “That's a pretty high number.”
“It's an absolutely unacceptable number, but does the Council care? No, it doesn't because they will be Nephilim after the Ascension not one minute before, so what they will lose is just mundanes. Mundanes they even didn't take the time to know. So we will be left with the impossible emotional baggage of having met them, taught them and lost them at a young age.”
He understands his husband's worries but he also understands that there's no way around it, unless he refuses the task of teaching this new generation of future Shadowhunters. It is within Alec's rights to say no, of course, but that would also mean stepping out as head of the Institute and there's nothing Alec wants less.
“Do you think it might be acceptable to cross that bridge once we get to it?” He says. “I mean, we're talking several years from now and by then some of them might decide this is not what they want. That option is still on the table, right?”
“Jia never explicitly mentioned it and it's obviously not on the document the Council sent me,” Alec says, “but I won't keep here kids who don't want to be here. I will personally make sure they can have a life out of this madhouse if they so wish.”
Magnus is not so sure there are many opportunity in Idris – or in the world in general – for a mundane who has been raised and trained like a Shadowhunters who actually doesn't end up becoming one, unless you erase their memories, but it doesn't look like the right moment to say something like that. Besides, he wouldn't have the time as someone trips over the security sensors of the Institute, setting off his magic.
“They are here,” Magnus says as casually as he possibly can.
Alec stands up and fixes a uniform that doesn't need to be fixed. “Let's go meet them,” he says in a clipped voice as he frantically searches his desk for something.
Magnus observes as he moves pieces of paper back and forth, apparently to no avail. “Are you alright, love?”
“Yes,” Alec answers, and then he stops, putting down a stack of paper he was about to move to the other side of the desk for no reason at all. “No, I'm not.”
Magnus sighs and joins him behind the desk. “It's going to be fine,” he says with an encouraging smile. “You know what to do.”
“I just don't know if I can do it,” Alec sighs. “This is important.”
“You've never done anything that wasn't,” Magnus says, pulling him into a kiss. “You've lived a life of statements and your point has always come across. This is only another one.”
Alec can recognize the truth in his husband's words. Since he came out, it's been a constant fight. For his own right at first, and then the warlocks', and the fairies, the new generation of Nephilim. Somewhere along the path he decided that he wanted to change things if he could. Two wars later he hasn't stopped fighting, and he doubts he'll ever will.
“I just don't want to make a mess,” he admits.
As per usual, the fear of failure is what worries him the most. Magnus blames Robert for that. When you raise your son to be perfect and act disappointed whenever he's not, the result is a very talented young man who can achieve anything he puts his mind to but is also constantly doubting himself whenever there might be the possibility that he will do something less than perfectly.
“Making a mess is part of the game, love,” Magnus says. “The key is to learn how to deal with it if it happens. And you have dealt with a lot of mess in your life beautifully.”
Alec sighs, pulling himself together. He's not sure he believes everything Magnus is saying right now, but it's nice advice he can at least try to follow. “Alright,” he says, eventually. “Let's go, before they think the Institute is abandoned.”
As they leave the room, Tommy comes running towards them. “Uncle Alec! Uncle Magnus,” he shouts out of breath. “There are a lot of kids downstairs! A lot! Like, a million!”
“We know that, Tommy,” Alec smiles. “They came to live here.”
“For real?” Tommy's eyes turn big and gleaming. “Does it mean—Does it mean they will be classes like, like—like dad said?”
“Yes, there will be classes—at least I hope there will be,” Alec answers. The logistic, honestly, eludes him and he still has to work out the kinks of it. There aren't many people in the Institute that can take upon themselves the task of teaching kids. It's going to be either Jace or himself, or probably both as they have both other jobs to do as well. He only hopes his parabatai will keep his promises and not disappear on them anymore. “Speaking of which, where's your father?”
“Out,” Tommy shrugs.
“Of course,” Alec sighs.
“Can I come with you to meet the other kids?” Tommy asks, jumping from one foot to the other.
They're down one member of the welcome committee, his mini-me will have to do. “Sure,” Alec concedes. “But you'll have to behave properly. You'll be representing the Institute and the family.”
“I'll be the bestest best!”
“Grammatically heinous but genuinely eager,” Magnus comments. “That's what matters.”
Alec chuckles, holding his nephew's hand as they walk downstairs.
*
Awaiting for them at the entrance there are four Shadowhunters – who look very out of place in here without their gear – and behind them, a group of scared kids who are looking around with big, confused eyes. They should be thirty, but they look so many more as they fill the atrium from wall to wall.
One of the Shadowhunters, Eloise Pounceby, whose father voted against Alec's motion to distribute the kids to the institutes as well instead of sending them all to the academy, comes forward, holding one of the kid by the hand and a sleepy infant in his arms. “Lightwood,” she greets him with a stiff nod of her head, as if she didn't like to greet him at all.
“Good morning Eloise,” Alec smiles politely at her. She doesn't smile back, proving that expecting manners from certain people is a waste of time and hope.
“As per the Enclave decree, the Institute of New York has been assigned thirty mundane kids to train and prepare for ascension,” she says perfunctorily. “You should have their folders already.”
“Yes, I do,” Alec confirms. “Although, they weren't very informative.”
“There wasn't much to say about them. They are mundane kids.”
Alec sighs, it's like talking to a tree, except a tree would be probably warmer and more accommodating. “I guess not,” he says. “Did you have problems coming here?”
“No, but it was uselessly time-consuming,” she answers, bluntly. There's no small talk with her, Alec realize. He was like that once, and then Magnus happened. Then, she rigidly passes him the infant – a baby of no more than a few months – and gently nudges the older kid – a boy, about eight years old – towards him. “These two are assigned to the Lightwood.”
Eloise does glare at Magnus in saying that, but the baby is squirming a little and Alec is too busy trying not to drop her, so he lets the glare slide. “There must be a mistake. My parents don't live here.”
The older boy, now free of Eloise's iron grip, has no intention of holding Alec's hand.
“No mistake,” Eloise says. “I have received orders from the Consul herself to assign them to you and... yours. Although the reason eludes me.”
It eludes Alec too, but he's too stunned to say anything.
“The baby has not been named yet. She was left in the hospital a couple days ago. The boy's name is—“
“Gabriel, and I don't want to be here.”
“Duly noted,” Magnus says cheerfully, his cat's eyes sparkling. Gabriel takes a step back in shock.
“He is a lot, this one,” Eloise says, vexed as Gabriel throws a murderous glance at her. “He tried to escape several times. We almost lost him in Times Square.”
“We'll take it from here,” Magnus steps in nonchalantly, taking the baby from his husband, who's currently frozen in place by shock, fear and an early onset first-time parent panic. “Thank you, Ms. Pounceby.”
She openly ignores him by turning around without another word and then snapping her fingers to signal the others they can go. As one, four Shadowhunters walk away, leaving them alone with thirty-two children.
*
Twenty minutes after the children's arrival it's already madness, which is not a very good start.
Making sense of the group of children is not easy. Half of them is too scared or confused to even speak and the other half doesn't want to shut up. And Tommy running through the group excitedly, introducing himself to everybody is not helping. Although he is being a perfect welcome party of one.
“If ever they realize they outnumber us,” Alec whispers to Magnus, “They're going to take over the Institute.”
“It's a good thing most of them can't count then,” Magnus smiles, and then he conjures a crib for the baby out of thin air, eliciting screams of awe and terror. “I think the first thing we need to do is understand who's who, and then find them rooms to stay in.”
They divide the group by age, and subsequently by gender, and then proceed with a roll call. The children come from three different orphanages and two group homes. None of them has any idea of what's going on or why they are here. The older ones have very bleak opinions about why they're being relocated. They think they are either going to be sold as slaves or worse, which makes Alec wonder what exactly they have been exposed to.
“You are not to be sold to anyone for any reason,” Alec says right away, before the rumor can spread to the whole group and cause panic and another round of uncontrollable tears. He waits until all eyes are on him to continue. “My name is Alec Lightwood and this is the Institute of New York. You are all here to be trained as Shadowhunters.”
“What's a Shadowhunter?” Gabriel asks, from the windowsill he climbed upon, followed instantly by Tommy.
“Shadowhunters are warriors,” Alec explains. “They protect the world.”
Gabriel doesn't seem impressed at all. “From what?” He asks.
“From any threat,” Alec answers. He decides to leave the details out of this speech. It doesn't seem wise to tell a bunch of kids they are going to fight against demons. “We vigil, we fight, and we protect.”
“So, you are a Shadowhunter,” Gabriel ponders. “And what is he?”
“Not a Shadowhunter,” Magnus responds, “but there will be time to discuss that. Starting from tomorrow, you will have classes in here.”
“So the Institute is a school,” Gabriel concludes, quite disappointed.
“It's more than that, Gabriel. It's a safe place where Shadowhunters can go when they need help,” Alec explains, “and where our community can gather and spend time together.”
“Looks like a bigger orphanage to me,” The kid shrugs and jumps down the windowsill. “Where's my room?”
Magnus leans to whisper into Alec's ear. “Let's remember to send Jia a thank you basket full of venomous spiders.”
*
They assign three children to every bedroom on the second floor, which hasn't seen people in years. The rooms are way bigger than those the kids are used to, and that alone is enough to make them content, at least temporarily.
Gabriel gets his own room on the third floor, where the Lightwoods live, which he seems perfectly fine with. Alec tries asking him if he prefers to sleep with the other kids instead, but Gabriel doesn't seem interested. “I don't know them,” is his only answer, before closing the door on Alec's face.
The baby ends up in his and Magnus' bedroom as there is no nursery in the Institute, and even if there was, they're lacking a nanny at the moment.
“Please, get us all something to eat,” Alec pleads to his husband, and that is as close as he will ever get to give Magnus permission to steal-conjure food from a restaurant that won't get paid, “and find my stupid parabatai. I need to speak with Jia.”
“We're going to need a cook, you know that right?” Magnus calls after his husband, as he marches towards the safe heaven of his child-free office. “I can't possibly grab all that food without no one noticing!”
“We'll hire someone with the Sight,” Alec says, dismissively.
“And someone with a broom, because I'm not playing the maid unless it's in a bedroom!”
Alec sighs, closing the door.
*
As he takes a step inside Jia's Office, the Consul smiles smugly. “Alec,” she greets him with barely concealed satisfaction, as the portal closes behind his back. “Is everything alright? How's the children's settling going?”
“It'll take a while to get used to having so many people at the Institute.”
“It used to be like that in the past. We were millions all over the world. There were dozens of us coming and going from every institute at any given time,” she says. “But that's our goal here, isn't it? To go back to those numbers.”
“I would settle for going back to non-extinction level numbers,” Alec sighs.
Jia smiles, sweetly. “One step at the time. So, was there something you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Yes. The children, the ones that are assigned... Uh, to me—“
“And Magnus,” Jia adds. “Two children, sometimes three, have been assigned to each Nephilim family as well to be educated at home, as I'm sure you know already.”
“Yes, I'm aware,” Alec says. He read those documents so thoroughly that he could cite them by heart. “I just assumed that we...”
“The document, as the Enclave has approved it, doesn't specify that the family should be composed of a man and a woman. So you two were eligible, in my opinion.”
“But they don't recognize our marriage.”
“It says nothing about marriage either,” Jia shrugs. “The only word that's used is family. And you are one. The Enclave gave so much for granted in the definition department that drafted the most pliable decree in history.”
“And you went with it.”
“Of course! It will help the cause, after all. More families, more children, more Shadowhunters. They can't accuse me of being unpatriotic, can they? But you don't seem happy.”
“Oh no, I am, I really am,” Alec says hastily. “It was just unexpected and it threw me off a bit.”
“What did Magnus say?”
“We haven't... uh, we haven't really talked,” Alec says, finally realizing that they're fathers now, and they haven't even addressed the situation yet. The first thing he thought of was going to Jia to ask why. Magnus just asked for a cook. “But he took it well, I think. He always takes everything in stride, like life couldn't surprise him anymore, which makes sense since, you know, he's been alive for a while.”
“It's not that much different when you plan them, you know?” Jia shrugs. “You think you know everything there is to know, you always think you're ready. You fight demons for a living, raising a child must be a piece of cake, right? But they throw you off. That's what they do. So, as far as first-time parents go, you're just on schedule.”
Alec smiles, nervously. “Maybe you're right.”
“Oh, I know I am,” Jia nods knowingly, a little smile on her lips. “Anyway, I wouldn't have assigned the boy to anyone else but you, honestly. I thought it was about time for another Gabriel Lightwood. The last one was in—“
“1860,” Alec offers.
“I'm impressed, you really know your family tree.”
“I sort of had to,” He shrugs. “That's our branch of the family and my mother is nothing if not a big fan of tradition. My second name is Gideon, after all.”
Jia chuckles. “Right. So, you see, he was just perfect. Nothing's better than an old family name to bring the next generation forward.”
“As long as it's not Benedict,” Alec makes a face. “Let's leave that one be for another couple of centuries.”
Jia definitely agrees.
*
It's an impossibly long evening.
They survive a very busy dinner and an even busier bedtime routine. Most of the kids are big enough to do things on their own – thank the Angel – but there's still a considerable number of children who need to be reminded to brush their teeth and put their pajamas on. The round to turn off the lights alone takes up half an hour.
By the time Alec can finally close the door of their bedroom and drop face first on the bed, it's around midnight and he only wants to die. “I resign,” he declares.
“And they're not even twelve, yet. Think about what kind of hell teenage years in this place will be,” Magnus looks up from the big old tome he's reading from in a language that might be or might not be demonic. Alec doesn't want to investigate. He reads cheap raunchy gay novels. Magnus reads forbidden texts. They are on a strict don't ask don't tell policy in regards of literature. “Thirty kids between the age of fourteen and seventeen enclosed in the same building. Edom will look like summer in Mykonos, in comparison.”
“You're making it worse.”
“So, how did it go? Did you put them all in bed? How many did you lose?” Magnus asks.
“None, I think. I didn't count them,” Alec's eyes grow big. “Should have I?”
Magnus shrugs. “Not.... necessarily?” Then, he says. “Relax, I bet they're all here. They have great rooms here and nowhere to go out there, and tonight they ate better than even I had eaten in years. As far as first impressions go, we did a pretty great job. Ten out of ten I would stay at this Institute again. Even the baby seems content.”
“Oh my god the baby!” Alex lifts his head in horror. “She didn't have dinner!”
“She did,” Magnus reassures him with a smile. “And she was changed. We had a lovely time.”
“Where did you find formula?”
“Where I find everything, love,” Magnus smiles.
“See? I can't do this. I forgot the baby, Magnus! The baby!” Alec groans, planting his face in the mattress again.
“And what am I here for then? Besides, you had thirty-one others. I say I picked the longer straw,” Magnus reaches out to stroke his head. “What did Jia have to say for herself?”
Alec rolls on his side to look at him. “She said she took advantage of a loophole in the way the decree was written. She was very proud of herself.”
“You seem annoyed.”
“Jia told me the same thing,” Alec snorts. “I really have to work on my resting bitch face.”
“I can't comment on that, it's in the marriage certificate.”
Alec chuckles and kicks him gently. “Shut up! No, I—I am happy, but we're, like, parents now. It's huge. Not that I didn't think of being a dad one day. But it happened overnight. I'm freaking out a little.”
“It is an activity that usually requires at least nine months of waiting,” Magnus agrees.
“She blindsided us.”
“Vile woman! Giving us two cute children to raise! How could she!” Magnus says, indignantly.
Alec chuckles again. “How are you so calm?”
Magnus shrugs. “My father's a demon. Literally nothing can go more wrong than that,” He explains. “Besides, they were in the plans, right? And we still would have to care for thirty others, if she hadn't given us those two, with the purpose of repopulating the Country of the Shadowhunters. But no pressure! If I freaked out for every task we've been assigned to in the past twenty-four hours alone, I would leave and nobody would ever see me again, love. But it's going to be fine. We went through hell and back. They are just children.”
“But what if we don't get along with them?” Alec goes on. “Gabriel hates us.”
“Oh, I don't think he hates us. He just has a very... strong character. He actually does justice to his namesake. Gabriel Lightwood was not easy to deal with.”
“He is the reason she sent him here,” Alec says. “She thought it was a nice coincidence that he had such an important name for the Lightwood, and I agree.”
Magnus nods. “The baby should have one of you people's traditional name too, then,” Magnus nods. “We could call her Tatiana.”
Alec raises an eyebrow. “She hated the Lightwoods.”
“That's not correct. She lost a child and she felt like her family had abandoned her,” Magnus says. “And after that she turned psychotic and murderous, as proof of the fact that a family should always care and protect their own. But that was three hundred years ago. It's about time at least her name gets its redemption.”
Alec looks at the baby peacefully sleeping in the crib next to Magnus' side of the bed, perfectly at ease in her new life apparently. “She looks so small to be a Tatiana.”
“It's a long name,” Magnus agrees. “She will grow into it.”
*
For a place so big and important – at least the way they talk about it – this Institute is not really well guarded. In fact, it's not guarded at all.
All it takes Gabriel is to wait for everybody to be in their beds. He waits until he can't hear Alec and Magnus talk anymore, then he carefully opens the door and tiptoes down the hall. All the lamps are turned off on the floor, the only light coming from a window behind his back. He needs to keep his hand along the wall to know where he's going.
When he reaches the stairs, he realizes that they are very old – ancient, he would say – and the moment he tests the first step, they creaks loudly, the sound reverberating up to the ceiling. Wincing, he decides to jump onto the banister, which is wide enough to walk comfortably on it. He opens his arms wide, balancing himself as he makes his way down carefully. The hardest part is to keep his backpack from swinging left and right on his back, but it's very heavy because he filled it with all the food he managed to steal at dinner, and now it's seriously threatening to throw him off balance.
He covers the last few inches running and then he jumps down, landing on the second floor, which is possibly even more eerie. Here the heavy, perfect silence is interrupted only by the light snoring of thirty kids, tossing and turning and mumbling in their sleep.
Gabriel is not worried that some of them could see him. The other kids seemed very excited to be here, or so petrified that they could only do what they were told to do, either way nobody will feel the urge to leave their new safe and spacious room in the middle of the night.
Nobody except him, because clearly he's smarter than all of them.
It's not like he doesn't see the advantages of living in a place like this instead of that dump he grew up in, thanks to his lovely parents who washed their hands of him the moment after he was born. A room all to himself, nice meals, no mold anywhere. What's not to like? But the whole Shadowhunters thing? He doesn't vibe with that at all. Besides, he doesn't need school, and he certainly doesn't need another set of parents – one of which is a weirdo – who will get rid of him at the first chance they've got. No, thank you. He'll find some other place to stay. Somewhere.
He climbs down from the second floor by way of the banister once again. The Institute around him seems even bigger and darker than what it really is, but strangely enough it doesn't feel cold nor scary. In fact, it gives off nice vibes, like a safe place. A home.
He doesn't have time to think about that, though. He needs to understand how to open the big entrance door. He expects it to be bolted, but it's not. “How do they expect not to be robbed?” Gabriel wonders out loud.
“The door is enchanted,” says a voice behind him.
Gabriel jumps, caught off guard. He turns around to find Tommy standing there, his hands behind his back and a smile on his lips. “Jeez, you almost gave me an heart attack.”
Tommy chuckles. “You're good at sneaking out, but I'm better.”
“Whatever, I need to get out.”
“Why?”
Gabriel looks at him trying to decide if he can tell his plan to this blonde kid who seems always excited no matter the reason: new people, dinner, going to bed. He decides that there's no point in sharing details. “Because I do,” he concludes. “What do you mean the door is enchanted?”
“That uncle Magnus put a spell on it,” Tommy explains, very proud of himself for knowing the answer. “It warns him of anyone who enters or leaves the institute.”
“You mean there's an alarm?”
“Yes,” Tommy nods. “But I know a way. Come with me.”
Gabriel follows him into the kitchen, and then in the pantry, and then behind a cupboard where there is a small door. Tommy opens it and leads him through a tunnel. He lights the way by using a weird gray stone, which turns off the moment he stops holding it. In less than five minutes they're out in the garden.
“See?” Tommy says. “It's an old escape route. My dad always uses it when he wants to leave the Institute without Uncle Alec knowing. But you can't tell him, because—“
“He doesn't have to know,” Gabriel interrupts him. “It's pretty obvious. Well, thank you for the tip.”
He turns to walk away but, with his great annoyance, the kid starts to walk with him. “Did you live somewhere else before coming here?”
“Of course I lived somewhere else.”
“Where?”
“An orphanage.”
Tommy frowns, his little rounded face all crumpled. “What is it?”
“An old building with a lot of kids with no mother, all living together,” Gabriel says.
“Oh, so like an Institute but for mundanes.”
Gabriel doesn't know where he's going, but since he doesn't have anywhere to be, he imagines that it doesn't matter which way he takes, so he follows inspiration. “You have already said that word earlier. It doesn't mean anything.”
“It means you. I'm a Shadowhunter, you are a mundane,” Tommy explains. He's usually the one who asks questions and doesn't know anything. He kinda likes this change. “But not for long. You're supposed to ascend soon.”
“Ascend where?”
“Nowhere, you're just going to change.”
“Into what?”
“A Shadowhunter! You're going to drink from the cup and be all wooooosh and shaaawoosh,” Tommy flails his arms theatrically. He has never witnessed an ascension, but that's how he imagines it. Loud, colorful, and with a lot of theatrics. “And then bam! You'll be a Shadowhunters and you'll be able to get runes.”
They stop at a streetlight. Actually, Gabriel does. Tommy would cross if Gabriel didn't stop him from being run over. “Runes?”
“Yes, like, written, here, and here,” Tommy shows him his arms and his neck and his legs, all the while following him across the road now that the streetlight is green, “Like, everywhere.”
“You mean, like, the tattoos your uncle has?”
“Yes. Runes give you all the coolest things, like speed and strength, and you can even see far far away.”
Gabriel looks around, and then decides to walk into the park right in front of them. It seems deserted, which is what you want if you're eight and you're out alone in the city. “Magic doesn't exist.”
“It does,” Tommy says.
“It does not.”
Tommy puffs his cheeks but then he seems to deflate. “You'll see,” he shrugs. “I prefer weapons anyway. I think I will use a sword when I'm old enough, like my dad.”
“A sword?”
“Yes, but you can choose whatever you want,” Tommy explains. “Uncle Alec uses a bow. It's huuuuuge, and super pretty.”
Gabriel sighs, and he stops. “Stop speaking as if I'm going to be back, okay? I'm running away, in case you didn't notice.”
“A-ah,” Tommy nods, looking like he didn't understand at all.
“I'm going now. I'm not going back to the Institute ever,” Gabriel continues, making sure it's all very clear for the kid. “I'm not... ascending or whatever that was, I'm not becoming one of you weird people with your comfy rooms, nice dinner and... and... cool weapons.”
“That's a bummer,” Tommy makes a sad face. “If you stayed, you'd be Uncle Alec's kid, so we would be cousins. I have never had a cousin.”
“But that's not going to happen,” Gabriel says, quite mercilessly. “And you should really be going back. You're very small and we are far away from the Institute now.”
Tommy is about to open his mouth and tell him that they're, in fact, just a couple of blocks from the Institute and that if they cut through the alley there, it's going to take them five minutes to go back. He's been out and about thousands of time. But then he realizes that if he acts like he doesn't know where they are, Gabriel is going to have to take him back.
“I don't know how to go back,” he says. He's not a good actor and maybe an adult wouldn't be fooled. But Gabriel is eight, and so it works.
Gabriel hides his face in his hands. “Are you serious?!”
“We were talking, I didn't pay attention.”
Gabriel's blue eyes appear from behind his fingers. “I was well on my way,” he tries.
Tommy shrugs. “You can leave me here if you want.”
“You're, like, five, I can't leave you here!” Gabriel says, indignantly. And then, as if deeply wounded in his integrity, he grabs Tommy's hand and starts retracing his own steps. “Come on, I'll take you back.”
“I'm actually four,” Tommy shows him his fingers.
“That's even worse!”
Gabriel marches back up the same way they came and Tommy tells him nothing about the shortcut. Instead, he grabs the other boy's hand very tightly and he feels suddenly happier than he has ever felt before in his life.
When they reach the door of the institute again, Tommy clears his throat. “I mean, maybe it's better if you don't go tonight, because I could follow you and then get lost again.”
“Well, if you know that, you could stay put.”
“I don't know, Gabe, I could follow.”
Gabriel groans, “It's not something that can happen to you. You can decide to stay inside!”
“But what if I see you go and I don't think that I could get lost and I follow you?” Tommy shakes his head and pulls him inside by the hand. “It's too dangerous, you can't go tonight.”
Gabriel can't do anything but follow him inside, as if there was a force bigger than them and deciding for both of them. Only tonight, he tells himself.
He doesn't know yet that he's going to stay forever.