Work Text:
The first sliver of sunshine was visible between the branches just outside the window, casting long shadows into the bedroom. Jem Carstairs slowly blinked against the apparition of dawn. He hadn't slept at all, but it did not matter to him. Soon, he knew, he would be sleeping for all eternity. He was laying there, quite content, under the covers wife Tessa, whom he loved dearly. Her dark hair was a mess, and her lips were slightly apart, causing her breaths to come out in sighs. Her hand was laying over his chest, as if she wanted to hold on to every beat his heart would still muster. Her head lay against his shouder. Jem must have kissed it a thousand times during the night. It had been a long night, which reflected his long lasting life. He had always considered himself extraordinary lucky for what he himself called "borrowed time"- indeed, once, centuries ago, Jem had been scheduled an untimely death. He had managed to postpone it with the help of the people surrounding him. The thought made him smile to himself in the dark. In that aspect, he had been lucky too. He had been fortunate enough to love and be loved. And it had made him a lot of things. After he had travelled from Shanghai to England as a young shadowhunter, he had become a Parabatai. Then, he became a Silent Brother. A mundane, a husband and yes, even a father.
He had fathered a daughter, who had come in with a spouse and family of her own the previous evening. They had arrived after everyone else - Alec and Magnus, Clary and Jace, Izzy and Simon and even Brother Enoch - had said their goodbyes and left. Even though she would always remain his little melon, Mina had grown into a beautiful and strong lady. She and his grandchildren sat by his bedside and laughed as they told stories from Mina's childhood, and how much alike Jem and Tessa she was. Kit had been there too. Jem had trained him over the years, and had watched him grow into a fine gentleman. Jem sighed to himself in whimsy. If his children could hear him now, they would tell them how oldfashioned he sounded. Nevertheless, he was proud of them. Then, they had said goodbye. Mina had wanted to stay at her father's side, but Jem and Tessa told them that their lives had been filled with much death and decay already. They deserved to remmeber their father as he was. Which was a rare feat already, because a lot of shadowhunters tend to die on the battlefield. But Jem had chosen to live a most normale life as possible after being cured from the yin fen. It was one of the topics during his and Tessa's talk that followed the departure of their offspring. They had talked and kissed into the wee hours of the night. Jem knew that Tessa was strong, and he knew that she would endure this for his sake and that of their beloveds, but she grew weary as the dreadful hours dragged on, and broke down around two in the morning. Jem had held her and whispered to her that it would be alright. That he loved her and that he always would. But he knew those words would mean little to someone who had to live forever apart from those she loved. But Jem knew she would not be alone. He had faith in his Tessa, and that she would see this through. And if not, he thought wistfully to himself, he hoped that wherever he went, she could join him if time ever called for it, just like he hoped he would soon be reunited with someone he loved and lost ages ago. Jem had continued to comfort Tessa, and went as far as to sing a chinese lullaby for her that he remembered from his youth, until she fell asleep at his side, tired out from worry and grief.
Jem was interrupted in his thoughts by a small bittern that had rustled its way up the windowsill, just above the dresser. The dresser itself was decorated with pictures filled with even more memories; Family picnics, Kit's first car ride and Mina's wedding. Next to the picture frames, hidden in the shadows of the still climbing sun, lay and old and battered case. The lid was open and the contents it had held for over a century had disappeared. Jem was too old to play his violin. The last time he had held the Stradivarius on his shoulder, he could barely move his stiff old fingers over the strings anymore. He had given it to Mina that evening. He claimed that it was better to give it to his daughter by life than in death. Tearfully, she had taken the instrument and played one last song for her father. And as she finished the song and had hugged him, Jem had nearly broken down himself.
The shadows surrounding the case seem to move and to Jem's surprise, a very familiar figure appeared. He figured it must have been his imagination, or the play of the light, but the figure's hair seemed pretty dark. Darker than Jem had last seen it. And as he grinned and spoke, it didn't look as if there were any deep lines in his face.
"I am the Grim Reaper."
Jem grinned back, with the allure of a little boy himself. "William Herondale. It's good to see you, my Parabatai."
Will moved closer to the bed in a movement not unlike that of the Silent Brothers. "And I'm very glad to see you too, Jem. Though it pains me that your hair has once again turned to silver."
Jem slowly moved his free hand to his brow, where a few strands of grey hair had escaped the rest. "Really?' He asked. "Haven't I aged with grace?"
Will's grin broadened. "You are the most handsomest grandfather ever to have walked around of course." Then, Will's gaze turned to Tessa, and something in his eyes and demeanor softened. Even in death, Will loved Tessa with all his being.
"Do you want to wake her?"
"Do you think she can see you?" Jem answered with another question. Will shook his head and smiled sadly. "I would have loved it, but I am here for you and you alone."
Jem reached for the drawer of his nightstand. he grunted as he lifted a box out of it. He placed it on his stomach. When Tessa woke, she would open it and find it filled iwth letters. one for each year they had been together. Jem had been writing them all his mundane life. He knew the love he felt for Tessa was hard to convey on paper, but they would be a permanent presence for her after he would be long gone.
"Then it's best if we don't wake her. She needs the peaceful dreams she is having, for she will have difficult times ahead of her. Besides, there is nothing to transpire between us that hasn't transpired before, Will. She knows how I feel. I can die a man with no regrets. The wheel has come full circle," he said.
"I am happy to hear that, old friend," Will replied. There was something peaceful and solemn about him, Jem thought. He hoped his journey into whatever came next would feel the same. As if reading his thoughts, Will stretched out a hand.
"Are you ready?"
Jem weakly swallowed the dryness in his throat away. He stroked Tessa's hair and kissed her head one last time. "Gàobié, Qīn'ài de." Farewell, my love. Then, he turned to Will and gave a small smile.
"Whither thou goest, I will go."
Will smiled. Even after all that transpired, their Parabatai oath was still burned into their memory.
Jem looked into Will's eyes. once upon a time they had been filled with a secret sorrow. His eyes had been filled with seen and unseen battles. With worry for Jem's wellbeing. But now they were nothing but the clear, blue eyes of the man he had shared so little time with in life, but with whom he had a bond deep enough to transcend every plane of existance. Will was existance itself to Jem. And now he would join him again. The blue of Will's eyes seemed to reflect the morning sky behind him, as the sun had climbed among the treetops. The light brightened the surroundings of Jem as he took Will's hand, and the warmth of the rays spread through his fingers all the way up to his chest. Jem's mind flooded with memories that felt like a different lifetime now. All the burdens he had to bear, all the hurt now felt like a weight he was leaving behind as he rose. He no longer felt tired. The light of the sun engulfed him. For a moment, all there was left was the smile of his Parabatai, and the palm of his hand that felt almost too real to the touch.
And then, the bittern on the windowsill let out a cry as it spread its wings. It took off, leaving behind the bedroom, in which Tessa's body twitched as she woke, her husband's body growing cold. Leaving behind the cruel morning, as time goes on despite what happens. Leaving behind the hills and greenery of the grounds below, where he had lived and loved and been so much in his life. And leaving behind the memory of Ke Jiang Ming.
The memory of James Carstairs.
