Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter was doing just fine. No, really.

Swinging through the busy New York streets, enjoying the wind rushing through his hair, or rather- rushing past his mask- helping out the little guy, eating gourmet sandwiches while perched precariously on skyscraper roofs, living life on the edge (of rooftops). This was the high life.

And yeah, so Peter was still a little confused about paying his electricity bill. Why did turning on the heat for an hour cost so damn much?

And yeah, he had dropped his veggie panini down a sewer grate while texting and swinging today. It was a really good panini, too.

And yeah, he kept falling asleep every single time he tried to read more than 3 pages of that boring GED prep book.

But it was fine.

It was. Fine.

At least he wasn’t actively ruining people’s lives anymore. And no one was getting hurt.

Well. No one but him, and that too- he hadn’t even needed stitches in like, a whole week.

So, yeah. Peter was doing great, he was the pinnacle of a mature responsible adult. Or he would be, once he turned 18 in a few months anyways. 

“Hey, Karen?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Could you pull up some footage of those subway rats? The cute ones doing weirdly human things? I’m bored,” he complained. He knew his voice was a bit too whiney, but it wasn't like Karen was going to judge him.

“Of course, Peter. Playing all clips of- Subway rat - now.”

Peter leaned back on his hands, swinging his legs carelessly as he sat on the roof of a nondescript apartment building, and zoned out while watching cute rodents engage in silly little shenanigans to pass the time.

So far, patrol had been pretty quiet. Not that Peter was complaining, per se. It's just- he didn't really have a bunch going on right now, and at least fighting some bad guys was entertaining. And distracting. It took his mind off of- things. Things that were totally fine and totally didn't warrant thinking about. So it’s not like he wanted patrol to be busy, per se.

He really shouldn't have pushed his luck though, looking back. 

The back of his neck prickled right as his superhearing picked up a strange sound from the alley one over, somehow a gross mix of both squelching and skittering. That combination had never led to anything good.

“Karen, pause.” Peter took a breath, and then flipped forwards over the edge of the roof and slung a web at the building across the alley, catching himself in a wide upswing that vaulted him way over the building. Peter tumbled gracelessly in the air for a moment and swung down from the closest fire escape, letting his webbing fall away as he landed softly on his feet in the alley.

What in the fresh hell was making that disgusting, disgusting noise? And why was his Peter tingle- sorry, Spidey sense, absolutely blaring like that? A burst of unease shot through his gut. The sound echoed again, closer now, and Peter whipped around, webshooters at the ready.

He stopped cold.

Was that- was that an alien? In the shape of a giant fucking scorpion?

Peter’s stomach dropped nauseatingly. Shit. He was supposed to be looking out for the little guy. This was neither little, nor a guy. And he hadn't even eaten lunch today, not really, on account of the panini sewer grate incident.

Shit. 

---

Alec was doing fine. No, really.

Maybe even better than fine, if he wanted to be cautiously optimistic.

He really meant that, for once. It felt good, to say the least. His Downworlder lieutenant program was taking off smoothly, to the point where even the most conservative Clave members couldn't deny its success. People in Idris had more or less stopped glaring daggers into his back as he attended Council meetings. His Institute was pulling off successful missions in astonishing numbers, with the lowest casualty count too. Clary was back and Jace had been happier than ever, so Alec’s parabatai bond had been thrumming joyfully instead of spiking with devastation. Izzy and the Daylighter seemed to be doing well too, which Alec could admit made him happy, despite Alec’s baseline irritation towards the vampire. And he was currently on his way to Magnus’s, after squaring things at the Institute real quick.

It was Alec’s first day off in a while - though the Clave Council didn't really give a shit about respecting that, so he’d already sat through two meetings this morning. He’d put his foot down after that, though.

Enough was enough, he had long earned this break and he was going to fucking enjoy it if it killed him.

Alec firmly pushed all thoughts of stubborn conservative Clave councilors and overly-complicated patrol schedules from his mind and just focused on the city around him. His city.

The sun was filtering weakly through the wispy clouds, but it wasn't chilly yet: Alec’s favorite kind of weather. There was a cup of far-too-sugary coffee keeping his hands warm, and the promise of snuggling on the couch with Magnus keeping his heart warm.

Alec was doing more than fine. 

Alec’s Hearing rune hadn’t quite worn off yet. Most days he didn’t really mind, not as he walked through his city, the city he had sworn to keep safe at all costs. He really was a typical New Yorker through and through, and he loved his city, the blaring sounds and the shitty smells and all. And despite the enhanced hearing, he loved hearing his city come alive.

Which is probably how he heard the telltale noises of a demon attack coming from an alley to his right.

Alec sighed, and lifted his eyes to the sky, as if there’d be something written there that would excuse him from getting involved today. A divine doctor's note or something.

But no, wasn’t Alec just thinking about how he’d sworn to protect his city? That shit remained true, even on days where he was speedwalking to his boyfriend’s apartment for a late brunch.

Alec allowed himself one last moment to grumble and lament his shitty luck, and then veered into the alleyway, knees bent low and feet soundless, his hand resting on the seraph blade nestled in his thigh holster. 

The first thing he registered was the Scorpius demon, large and grotesque with three wicked barbed tails and a set of serrated pincers. Alec’s legs propelled him forward almost subconsciously, his body and mind smoothly slipping into a battle ready stance, before he pulled up short, stopping in his tracks.

The second thing that had taken him too long to notice was the kid.

A short, skinny kid, clad in some kind of cheap red and blue costume, was stuck to the alley wall, one hand and one foot braced along the wall and their other limbs firmly planted on the demon. Alec blinked, took a second to really internalize what was in front of him.

Was this kid a warlock? How the hell were they sticking to the wall like that? And why the fuck were they wearing that stupid costume? Alec wasn’t totally clueless, and since Clary had arrived, he was even more aware of mundane customs, so he was pretty sure it wasn’t anywhere close to Halloween. So why…?

By the Angel, Alec wasn’t even that old, he was barely 24 and he was loathe to admit it but he didn’t think he’d ever really understand kids these days.

And was the warlock kid- talking? To the Scorpius demon? Alec tuned back in for a moment.

“Yikes, my guy, that tail is gnarly. And, haha, it's kinda interesting. You’re from outer space, the Scorpio constellation is also from outer space. That’s kinda ironic. Wait, am I using ironic correctly? I'm never really sure-"

Alec shook his head. Why was this kid rambling at the demon? Seemed counterproductive to Alec. But, no matter. He didn’t need to understand this kid and his logic (or the lack of) to go help him out of this sticky situation. Pun definitely intended.

It was time to go kill a fucking demon. On his day off. 

Alec darted further into the alleyway, deactivating the glamour on his weapons as he moved. In the couple seconds it took Alec to draw closer, the kid was thrown bodily off the demon and slammed into the wall hard enough to dislodge a couple bricks. Alec winced in sympathy.

But a snap second later, the kid was up and attacking the demon again, shooting some type of- 

“Is that a spider web?” Alec whispered incredulously under his breath. The kid perked up at that, though Alec knew for a fact he hadn’t spoken loud enough for his voice to carry all the way to the kid.

“Why, yes it is, sir! Perks of being your friendly neighborhood spi- oh wow, you’re tall! And really well-dressed. I kinda wanna add that whole ensemble of yours to my fit inspo Pinterest page, though I haven’t really updated it in like two years, which I think is understandable, you know, considering all the shit that’s happened to and around me these past couple of years-”

Alec was blinking too fast, trying in vain to keep up with this kid’s rapid fire rambling, almost faster than his movements as he swung around the demon and slung strand after strand of - fucking spiderwebs - at the beast.

Alec stopped trying to understand that kid's word vomit. Gritting his teeth, Alec surged ahead with a few determined strides, ready to do what he’s meant for, but the kid quickly held out both his hands in a halting gesture, somehow holding himself upright on the brick wall with just his feet.

“Sir- could you maybe run along - or, just like, really embody the bystander effect, because it’d make my job, like, a thousand times easier if there’s no collateral.”

Alec just paused for a split second, furrowing his eyebrows hard. Was this kid for real? Warlock or not (and Alec had no fucking clue what kind of warlock magic could produce spider webs from the wrists- or were the webs themselves his warlock mark??), Alec sure as hell wasn’t going to stand by and let some kid get mauled to death by a Scorpius demon today. That too, a preteen kid whose voice still cracked and was still full of the kind of young exuberance that comes with being in high school- or so Alec guessed, based on those mundane movies Simon made them watch. It’s not like Alec ever went to highschool so how the hell would he know?

Sighing harshly through his nose, Alec ignored the kid’s protests, unsheathed his seraph blade, and lunged forward, his blade singing through the mid morning air, blending seamlessly with the discordant harmony of the city. 

And then a million things happened at once.

Alec ducked closer to the Scorpius demon just as one of its barbed tails lashed out towards him fast as lightning. He swung his seraph blade up in a wide arc towards the tail, yet the tail stopped moving inches away from the tip of his blade, as if frozen in time.

Everything halted for a moment, and then Alec noticed the handful of glistening webs wrapped firmly around the demon’s tail. Alec flicked his gaze up to the kid’s masked face. Somehow the eye lenses on the kid’s stupid mask had expanded, almost as if he was surprised. That was weird though, that couldn’t be right. Why was his mask moving?

The kid seemed to be fixated on Alec’s blade. Well, what the hell else was Alec supposed to do? It’s not like this kid was a mundane anyway, so Alec didn’t really need to hide his seraph blades.

Alec broke the weird moment of stillness with a slice of his blade across the demon’s tail, dislodging the kid’s webbing from the demon. With his free hand, Alec grabbed the web strand and yanked firmly. The kid, still attached to the web on the other end, followed with a muffled yell and somehow landed gracefully on his feet like a goddamned cat or something in front of Alec. He shook the sticky web off his hand with some difficulty. 

“Woahhh, what’re you doing, man? And where’d you get that cool ass sword? Hey, it lights up too! Sick! But wait- what’re those blue markings? No wait, forget that, man why'd you pull me away? I gotta go back to fighting that weird ass alien.” And with that speedy stream of words, the kid pivoted away from Alec and made as if to reenter the fight, but Alec wasn’t having it.

He stepped in front of the kid and pushed the kid further behind him in one movement. “Kid, just stay back and stay out of trouble. I’ll take care of this-” Alec cut himself off abruptly.

“Wait, did you just say alien ?” Alec asked, voice dripping with incredulity. He turned back to level a disbelieving look at the kid, but the young warlock had already shot another web at the demon and was yanking himself straight towards it. “Shit,” Alec hissed, and reached for his bow while pulling out an arrow swiftly.

Fuck, the kid was fast as hell and had reflexes sharper than any vampire he’d met before. Alec had to admit, beyond that, the kid was strong and smart, too - he knew how to maneuver himself skillfully around the demon and keep away from its pincers and nasty bits, and his punches combined with powerful kicks propelled by those fucking webs were pretty effective at slowing the demon down, but ultimately, this demon wasn’t going to vanquished without runed weapons.

Calculating the kid's complicated trajectory rapidly in his mind, Alec nocked three arrows in his bow and dropped to the floor to slide forwards on his knees, one leg extended like a baseball player. He used his momentum to twist onto his back, and in one smooth motion, he slid underneath the carapace of the demon, down to where its fleshy belly was exposed.

Alec let all three arrows fly.

The sound of them embedding into squishy demon flesh was at once disgusting, yet all too satisfying.

Alec scooted out from underneath the demon quickly. He didn’t want to get caught underneath when the demon crumpled to the floor. His arrows wouldn’t quite kill a Scorpius demon, but they would weaken it greatly. Alec snapped up to his feet, just in time to unfortunately witness the kid lose his balance for a split second, slipping down the hard plates of the demon’s back before catching himself with a well-timed web across the narrow alley and a slew of almost-curses. The kid flipped a few times in the air before landing lightly by a dumpster.

But a deadly pincer had trailed after the kid across the alley, and Alec cursed inwardly before launching himself up and rebounding against the wall to get some height. He flung his blade out as he spun around and sliced clean through the pincer. The claw dislocated from the demon with a wet squelch and flopped to the ground, writhing for a few moments before going still.

“Oh shoot, thanks for that. I was about to be scorpion dinner if you’d been any slower,” the kid exclaimed, too animated and jumpy for someone who had almost gotten snapped clean in half.

Alec just nodded once before gesturing to the kid, “Come away from there, kid. That thing may be a lot slower without one if it’s pincers but it’s no less lethal, so let’s get you out of its range, okay?” The kid nodded, and quickly shot a web over Alec’s head before swinging expertly and landing soundly by Alec’s side.

“So, what’s the play here, boss?” the kid drawled. “I go high, you go low? Or something?”

Alec could feel his face scrunch up with disbelief. He scoffed, “No- kid, just- stay here. Please. Let me handle this. You should be in school or something, not picking fights in alleyways.” The kid bristled at that, but Alec cut his protests off. “Just- stay out of harm's way, I’ll finish this off in a second, ok?” Without waiting for an answer, Alec charged ahead, unsheathing another seraph dagger as he went. The kid was squawking something behind him but Alec’s focus was honed in on the screeching demon in front of him. It was almost done for.

Alec slashed his blades a few more times, the metal glinting in the white watery sunlight and the sounds of ripping flesh filling the air. The second pincer fell away from the demon’s body with little fanfare. Unfortunately, Scorpius demons were notoriously hard to kill properly and banish back to hell, but Alec had handled much worse. The demon’s maw swiped a little too close to Alec’s head, and he had to duck and roll low to avoid a mouthful of razor sharp teeth. As he sprung back up, another barbed tail was hurtling his way, too fast for Alec’s blade to stop it in time to avoid all injury.

Shit.

But the tail never reached him, the sting never came, because the kid had thrown himself back into the fray with a kind of hardheaded determination Alec usually saw in Clary.

By the Angel, couldn’t this kid just leave the demon hunting to the literal professionals? Alec just wanted to keep him unharmed, was that too much to fucking ask for?

The kid’s webs had stopped the tail though, so Alec had enough time to sever the barbed end from the demon’s body with his dagger. He stomped a heavy boot on the barb as it fell, stopping the wet writhing.

As he glanced back up, his blades ready to finally stab this thing in the heart, he saw the demon’s last remaining tail gunning for the kid, far too fast, and the kid was facing the wrong way.

Alec dashed forward as quickly as he could, blades glinting maliciously, and he saw the moment the kid sensed the tail coming up behind him. The kid jerked to the side as Alec lunged forwards to slice at the tail, but neither of them could prevent the barb from piercing the kid in the shoulder.

“Shit, fuck!” The kid hissed, large eye lenses of his mask screwing shut in pain. Alec internally echoed the kid’s sentiment as he yanked the kid away from the tail, only a split second too late. As he pulled the kid behind him, the barb fell out from the kid's shoulder, thank the Angels. 

“Don’t fucking move, kid,” Alec all but growled out, and set out to finish this once and for all. The kid just groaned in vague acknowledgement, grasping weakly at his shoulder.

In two calculated leaps, Alec vaulted himself onto the demon’s back and jammed both his blades into the crack between two of the armored plates. Alec felt his blades meet the demon’s soft flesh inside. He yanked his blades free with a jerk, and the demon finally began to disintegrate back to a hell dimension. Alec tucked his blades into his belt as the demon's back disappeared from below his feet and he hit the ground in a roll before springing back up.

He let out a deep sigh, far too heavy for ten in the morning on his one day off per quarter. 

Fuck, the kid was sprawled on the ground now, clutching at his shoulder. Alec rushed over, dropping heavily to his knees by the kid's side. Now that he was closer, Alec could see more than a few rips in the young warlock’s costume besides the one from the barb at his shoulder. How long had this kid been fighting this demon before Alec showed up?

“Hey. Hey, kid!” Alec demanded, gently patting the kids face.

“Yes Mr. spiffy crime-fighting machine, sir? What- what's up?” The young warlock's voice was slurring and pitching even higher than before. Alec frowned hard, more worried about this stubborn kid than he expected. Scorpius venom was serious, even for a warlock. He’d have to take him back to the Institute, and maybe call Magnus to see if he could help, since he couldn’t just apply an iratze to a Downworlder.

“Kid, I’m gonna take you to the infirmary so we can get you fixed up, okay?” He said, trying hard to keep the panic out of his voice as he pulled the kid’s costume apart at the barb sting so he could see just how deep it went.

But the kid jerked violently, scrabbling desperately at Alec’s arm, yelling, “No! No hospital, I’m fine- I’m totally fine!”

Alec lifted his hands palm up, going for placating, though he had never been very good at being reassuring. “Hey, hey, okay, alright. No one said anything about a hospital. I know you must not have great experiences with Shadowhunters or Institutes, but I promise- we’re just going to make sure that the venom gets out of you safely, and then you’ll be on your way home, okay? No hospital.”

Some of the manic worry in the kid’s body language faded at Alec’s words, and the kid loosened his vicelike grip on Alec’s hand. Alec flexed his fingers and winced. By the Angel, this kid was strong. Alec was going to have bruises across his palm from the kid’s grasp.

“Okay Mr. sword-fighting runway model, that sounds good to me. Though I don’t know what the heck a shadow hunter is.” His youthful voice was even more slurred by now- the venom must be spreading, which meant Alec needed to hurry.

He scooped the kid up in a fireman’s carry and activated his glamour all in one movement. He didn’t need any good samaritans worrying for this kid’s safety and stopping him before he could get him to the Institute to heal him. The kid groaned a bit at the movement and Alec winced in sympathy. There was nothing he could do, he couldn’t be gentler even if he tried.

In a trembling voice, the kid garbled, “Sick tattoos by the way, man. Why’d you get so many, and in  such random places? No judgment though! ‘M just curious,” the kid rambled shakily.

Alec blinked, and opened his mouth to respond to that strange statement, because what warlock in New York couldn’t recognize Shadowhunter runes? But in the next breath, the kid went limp in Alec’s hold, passed out cold.

Shit. Just what Alec needed.

Well then. Alec should really text Magnus. Brunch would need to be postponed. 

Chapter Text

There was a faint buzzing in his head. It was really fucking annoying. Peter tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt like they'd been sewn shut. Everything felt so, so heavy. And his shoulder ached like hell. Around him, Peter could hear a whole host of unfamiliar voices, arguing.

Shit, where was he? Who was talking?

That thought jolted him awake faster than he thought possible. The arguing stopped abruptly when Peter blinked his eyes open, but Peter didn't hesitate even for a second.

Throwing a lightning quick glance around the room, he clocked three people hovering close to him, and a straight shot to the window. He threw his legs over the side of the cot and bolted towards his exit route.

Or he tried to, but his legs didn't quite seem to get the message.

The next thing Peter knew, he was eye level with three pairs of shoes against a really shiny tiled floor, and his left cheekbone throbbed painfully. He groaned, body aching in places he never knew could ache like that.

Shit, whatever that alien had injected him with had really done a number on him. He'd have to rethink his escape plan here.

Peter was jolted out of his miserable thoughts by a pair of gentle hands on his arms and a concerned voice. “Woah there, kiddo. Let’s take it easy, ok? Your system’s been through a hell of a shock.” Peter was firmly pulled back onto the infirmary bed, and then the hands receded. Peter could reluctantly admit he probably needed to be back on the bed for a bit, before he could attempt another escape.

Warily, Peter took a few seconds to glance around the room, properly this time. The bright lights were making his head feel like a punching bag.

Where the hell was he? 

Peter recognized the tall, intimidating man standing across his bed: he was the badass, sword-wielding vigilante from the alleyway. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest and his face was carefully blank, but Peter could see the tension residing in his eyebrows. The man's hair, which had been artfully tousled earlier in the alley, was now at best, stressfully ruffled.

The woman next to him was- gorgeous, to say the least, but her face was a picture of concern, her doe eyes wide and turned towards Peter. Her worried expression clashed discordantly with the surety with which she held herself and her impeccable posture.

And perched on the side of Peter’s hospital cot was the man who had helped him up off the floor. The man’s face was done up with exquisite makeup, sparkling under the fluorescent lights. He was holding his hands out placatingly, his movements slow, as if not to frighten a startled baby deer.

Which- that was fair. Peter was pretty fucking startled right now.

Then Peter caught a glimpse of the man's hands- covered with various rings and painted with black nail polish and- glowing with blue mist that reminded Peter a bit too much of Mysterio.

Shit. No, no no no he couldn’t-

Peter scrambled backwards, crowding up against the wall behind his bed and held his arms out to ward off any magic or illusions, he didn't really know which would be coming his way today. “What did you do to me?!” Peter demanded, wincing at how his voice cracked. The sparkly man looked surprised, and a little hurt. He opened his mouth to explain but Peter cut him off. “Please don't turn my brain into scrambled eggs. No more mind warping, please?”

The woman snorted behind her hand. Sparky’s hands dimmed as he spluttered, “Scrambled- what in the world? I would never-”

Peter took advantage of his confusion to make his great escape, take two. Steadier on his feet this time, Peter didn’t look back, even as a voice called out “Shit, we got a runner!”, followed by an annoyed “Izzy, you’re not funny. This isn’t one of those mundane movies.” Peter was almost to the window when his body slammed to a halt, almost comical if it wasn't so worrying.

Peter blinked. He didn’t do that. Glancing down at himself, Peter’s stomach bottomed out.

A fine glowing blue mist surrounded his limbs.

Before he knew it, his body was being pulled up through the air and placed gently in the cot again, but Peter was thrashing as hard as he could, the furthest thing from calm. “Hey! Not cool, man. You can't just restrain me with tingly blue magic, this isn't a fair fight!” Peter protested, trying to appear more nonchalant than he was feeling inside, because this guy was powerful as hell if his magic could restrain Peter and all his considerable spider strength.

The glittery man winced apologetically. “Sorry, kiddo, but we can't let you go until you’re fully healed. Venom poisoning is serious. Just stay put for a little more time, ok?”

Peter's stomach flipped at that. He threw an incredulous glance at the man as he settled back in the cot. He had been poisoned? What the hell was going on?

The taller, serious man was scrutinizing Peter with an unreadable expression pulled tight across his face. It was making Peter jittery. Both he and the woman had an unshakable intensity that Peter mostly associated with soldiers who’d seen some shit.

“We can release the magic on you, but only if you’re gonna stay put for the time being. You gonna bolt, kid?” The tall man raised his chin in a challenge, voice firm and gaze piercing. Peter swallowed, shook his head once. He’d have to figure something else out, now that he knew they had a magic guy who could do whatever he wanted to Peter. The tall man nodded, and Sparky pulled the blue mist back. Peter’s body thumped softly back onto the cot.

God, he was winded. Magic’ll really do that to you, huh?

The woman spoke up then. “Hey, kiddo. I know you must be scared, but you’re in good hands, okay? You can trust us.”

Peter just scoffed. “No offense, lady, but you guys just magically restrained me against my will and I don’t even know who the hell you are. Or where I am. Why should I trust you?”

She tilted her head and some of the tension left her shoulders. She smiled, a little tight around the edges but friendly enough. “That’s a good point, kid. Sorry about that. I’m Isabelle, that’s my brother Alec,” she pointed at the guy with the scary angry eyebrows. “And that’s your High Warlock, Magnus Bane," she finished, gesturing at the sparkly magic guy.

Peter felt his eyebrows creep up close to his hairline. “My high warlock? I’ve never met this man in my life, what’re you talking about?”

The three shared a confused look. Peter felt something uncomfortable settle in his gut. There was a certain tension suffusing in the room, one that was a bit too stifling for Peter at the moment. Angry eyebrows- sorry- Alec, sighed deeply and asked, slowly, “What did you mean, earlier, when you said this wasn't a fair fight? Do you not have control over your own magic yet?”

Peter opened his mouth to answer, then paused. Blinked twice.

His own magic?

“What?” was all he managed, croakily. Alec’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, and Peter swallowed thickly. He was missing something here. Magnus just smiled reassuringly at Peter, his eyes sympathetic.

Peter did not feel reassured.

Magnus spoke up. “Hey, it’s alright. I’m a warlock, just like you! There’s nothing to worry about, okay? You’re in good hands with us,” he finished, throwing a sweet smile at Alec.

Peter blanched. What the hell?

“Wh- I’m not a- wait, did you say warlock? D’you mean a sorcerer?”

Magnus looked affronted at that. “I am not- ha, I have never stooped down to the level of those ridiculous party clowns that call themselves sorcerers,” he scoffed with great disdain, fingers sparking slightly. Peter leaned back, still wary of all these people, still plotting his way out of here in the back of his mind.

“I think we’re getting off track here, babe,” Alec mumbled, placing a calming hand on Magnus’s shoulder, his voice full of more warmth than anything Peter had heard since he woke up. Peter wasn't sure he trusted that warmth. From what he remembered as he was losing consciousness in the alley, this guy was a lean mean fighting machine, and was a pro with a sword. Peter didn’t wanna get on his bad side at all.

Then Alec turned his intense gaze on Peter, who absolutely held his ground and did not lean away again. “What do you mean, you’re not a warlock? How is that possible? How were you sticking to the alley walls, then?” Alec ground out from behind gritted teeth. Peter was just as confused and frustrated as this man seemed. If this guy was out there fighting aliens on the daily, wouldn’t he at least have heard of Spider-Man? Why was he calling Peter a warlock?

Peter opened his mouth to clarify, but only got out a word before he was rudely interrupted. “I’m-”

“Oh my gosh, is that Spider-Man?!” a voice shrieked from the doorway.

Everyone in the room snapped their heads over at the newcomer. Peter shifted uncomfortably in the cot, jitters spreading all through his body like a wildfire. He was clearly outnumbered here. His Spidey sense wasn't blaring yet, but Peter needed to keep on his toes regardless.

“You know him?” Isabelle questioned, skepticism coloring her voice blue.

The guy who had screamed earlier came rushing into the room, dragging a slim redhead behind him. “Of course, oh my gosh! It’s such an honor to meet- wait, holy shit, where’s his mask? Everybody look away, we shouldn’t be seeing this!” he gasped out, and with that he spun around to face the door, but Peter could barely register that through the abject panic shooting through his veins like a tidal wave, drowning out everything else around him. Peter whirled around, his breath stuck unpleasantly in his chest, trying to spot his mask, gripping at his face with a frantic grasp before a gentle hand pulled his own away from his face.

Magnus had a much more sympathetic look on his face now, his brown eyes kind and reassuring. Peter didn’t quite understand why, but he thought maybe he could trust him.

“We took it off to make sure you were breathing properly.” Isabelle dropped his mask onto his lap with a small, hesitant smile. The terror slowly leaked out of him, leaving him shaky but his lungs clear, and he deflated back down onto the cot. Peter reached for his mask, running his fingers over it and soaking in some comfort from the gesture.

Magnus smiled apologetically, the corner of his eyes crinkling fondly, and said, “I really am sorry about restraining you with magic. You’re right, that wasn’t fair. But we really need to keep you under observation, to make sure the venom is completely gone. Your cells were regenerating at an alarming rate, which was incredibly dangerous when the venom was still flowing through your system.” He explained.

That didn't really clear things up. Peter's jaw dropped as Magnus's words finally registered in his mind. “Wait, venom?” He exclaimed, fists tightening painfully.

Alec’s eyebrows disappeared under his messy hair. “Yes, venom. You don’t recognize a demon or Shadowhunter runes, you say you’re not a warlock, and yet you have weird, sticky powers and confusing bloodwork. Who the hell are you?” Alec asked, exasperation coloring his voice red.

Peter’s head was swimming. “I’m sorry, did you say demon?” Peter demanded, the same time the newcomer determinedly exclaimed, “He’s Spider-Man, obviously? The legendary vigilante superhero?” Peter glanced over, meeting the new guy’s eyes with a small smile of his own.

Alec scoffed, looked Peter up and down once. “You? A-superhero?”

Peter scowled. “You don’t have to sound so skeptical. I know, I know- I’m kinda scrawny. What about it?” The redhead in the corner stifled a giggle behind her hand.

“So you’re a mundane? How the hell do you have powers then?” Alec bit out. He looked like he had the beginnings of an awful migraine. Peter could relate.

He just shrugged. “Got bitten by a radioactive spider.”

Alec threw him a look flatter than day-old soda. “You’re joking.”

Peter shook his head, and heard the newcomer gasp loudly, turning to his redhead friend and shaking her vigorously. “Clary, Clary, holy shit did you hear that?” The redhead, Clary, laughed, shaking her head fondly at her friend. He turned back to Peter. “I don’t think anyone could have guessed that! None of the Reddit threads or theory message boards had anything even remotely close to the truth about the origin of your powers!”

Peter blinked.

“There are Reddit threads about me? Huh. Wild.”

The guy nodded eagerly. He pushed forward and extended a hand. “I’m Simon Lewis, huge fan of your work. You once helped my Bubbe find her cat, we’re all so grateful!” Peter smiled, still a bit confused, but always happy to be of help.

“Hey Spider-Man, it’s actually pretty cool to meet you in person after seeing you swinging around the city for years.” Clary smiled at him warmly.

“You too, uh- both of you,” Peter croaked out, still a little lost, but a lot less eager to jump out of his skin. Or the window, for that matter.

Alec cleared his throat roughly, causing Peter to startle. Just a little. Embarrassingly. “You know this kid, Daylighter? What’s his deal, exactly?”

“I’m not a kid,” Peter grumbled right as Simon complained, “Alec, I know you know my name.”

Alec threw a frosty glare at Simon, who quickly cowered and blurted, “He’s not a Downworlder. He is a mundane, I guess? At least, until he was apparently bitten by a radioactive spider!” Simon mimed a mind blowing gesture with enthusiasm.

Peter would have to check out those Reddit threads, he wanted to see what wack explanations people had come up with for his origin story.

Peter looked up to see Alec studying him with an unfathomable expression. Alec looked away, and had some sort of silent conversation with Magnus through pointed looks while Simon continued blathering excitedly to Clary in the background. Isabelle just watched this all with a finger to her lips and a thoughtful tilt of her chin.

“From my initial scans, Sherman here is right, he doesn't seem to have any demon blood.” said Magnus, confusion stitched into his brow. Simon let out a short squawk of protest.

Peter just gaped at Magnus. They thought he might have demon blood? What the hell had he gotten himself into?

Isabelle piped up before he could voice his incredibly valid concerns. “My lab tests concur, he’s mundane, but only sort of.”

“Hold up, everybody just- can we go back to my question from before? Demons??” Peter sputtered, still utterly confused and honestly a little scared to hear more. Clary and Magnus shared a sympathetic glance with Peter. It didn't do anything to ease his confusion, or anxiety.

Alec sighed harshly, then ground out, “Yes, kid, demons. Like that thing in the alleyway. They’re notoriously hard to kill, even for a tween superhero.” Peter bristled at that, but Alec cut off his outraged reply. “Shadowhunters,” here, he gestured to himself and Isabelle and Clary, “have been trained from a young age to properly fight and kill said demons. Which is why I told you to stay out of it, back in the alley. And you completely ignored me. I had half a mind to leave you to rot in that damned alleyway.” Alec scowled. Peter had never seen a more effective scowl in his life.

Isabelle chuckled, and patted Alec on the chest lightly. She sent a teasing glance Peter’s way and said, “Don’t mind my brother, he’s actually a real softie at heart. You should have seen how worried he was when he brought you in here,” Alec scoffed, an affronted look on his face as he shoved Isabelle away, who shoved him back equally as hard. Peter watched in awe as they devolved into a classic sibling slap fight, much to Clary and Magnus’s amusement.

Peter took a second to try and internalize everything Alec had just said because- demons? On top of everything? As if aliens and alternate dimensions weren't enough. Now Peter had to deal with actual real-life demons, like- from hell?

Goddammit.

It’s not like Peter wasn't already terrified, trying to fall asleep in his empty, quiet apartment with a few too many dark corners.

Magnus’s voice broke Peter out of his overthinking spiral. “My dear, there’s unfortunately a lot more to this world, the Shadow world, as we call it, that you’ll need to know, but we can get to that later.”

Peter gulped. He really didn't want to think about what ‘more’ entailed.

“For now, would you allow me to give you one last scan to make sure your blood is clear of all demon venom?” The look in Magnus’s eyes was genuine, an inherent thread of kindness shining through.

“Yeah, I guess.” Peter shrugged. Magnus smiled at him, and Peter felt his shoulders loosen by a degree.

“What’s your name, kid?” Alec asked warily.

Simon gasped theatrically. “Alec! It’s bad enough you de-masked him, you can’t ask a masked vigilante his name! You’re breaking all the tenets of superhero etiquette!” Alec glowered at Simon.

Peter huffed a laugh under his breath. “Simon, it’s ok, man. No sweat. Thanks for trying, though.”

Simon looked at Peter with wonder in his eyes. “He knows my name,” he whispered under his breath, too low for anyone else to pick up, but Peter heard it anyway and smiled.

"I’m Peter."

Alec nodded sharply. “Alright, Peter. Unfortunately, I have to get back to work, but Magnus and Izzy will make sure you’re taken care of. And - I am glad you’re feeling better,” Alec said, somewhat reluctantly, as if he was loathe to admit he actually cared. Aww. “Magnus and Izzy will make sure none of the venom is remaining in your system, and they’ll brief you a bit more about the Shadow world. Once you’re cleared for discharge, I’ll have someone escort you to my office. We have some things to go over.”

Peter paled. Shit, was he in trouble or something?

“Ooooh, you’re in trouble!” Simon singsonged helpfully.

“Shut up, Lewis,” Alec hissed. “Get back to work, you two. You both owe me a mission report, and with the way you’re frolicking around this place without a care, it seems like you have a lot of freetime on your hands, so your report better be absolutely fucking flawless.”

Simon shuddered at the glare Alec sent his way. Alec nodded to Clary once, smiled briefly at Isabelle, leaned over to kiss Magnus sweetly on the cheek, turned his piercing gaze on Peter for a moment, and then swept out of the infirmary like a summer storm.

The room was silent for a moment, and then Simon heaved a large sigh. “Ugh, Fray, we better get started on that report. This is so unfair, I’m not even one of you. My delicate musician wrists aren't built for handwriting pages and pages of boring mission summaries.” Peter snorted a laugh, and grinned at Simon when he looked his way.

Clary just rolled her eyes fondly and started dragging Simon from the room. She called back, “Nice to meet you, Peter! Sorry you got dragged into this whole Shadow world mess!” Simon gave a hearty salute to Peter, mouthing ‘you’re my hero’ with his hands clutching his chest as he was dragged bodily out the door. Peter waved to them as they left.

Isabelle ruffled Peter’s hair playfully as she walked by. “Kid- Peter, I’m gonna grab some more vials, if that’s alright? I’ll need to test your blood again to make sure your cells are regenerating like they should, taking your powers into account. We just gotta make sure the demon venom didn’t mess with your accelerated healing abilities, okay?”

“Um- yeah, that’s fine. And- thanks, uh-thank you, for, you know- making sure I’m alright.” Peter stammered, feeling disoriented under her selfless concern for a complete stranger. He had gotten somewhat used to patching himself up again, after May- well.

Peter cleared his throat. Isabelle’s eyes softened, and she offered him a kind smile. “Of course, Peter. You had all of us worried. You should have seen Alec as he rushed in here with you in his arms, he was more frantic than I’ve seen him in a while.”

Peter’s disbelief must have shown on his face, because both Magnus and Isabelle chuckled and exchanged a knowing look. “You’re not gonna believe us, my dear, but Alec cares a lot more than he lets on. Trust the two of us on that, at least.” Magnus offered, eyes crinkled with mirth.

Peter just shrugged. Isabelle shook her head, smiling, and strode out of the room, calling, “I’ll be back in a bit!”

---

Magnus was rolling up his sleeves and waving his glowing fingers gracefully when Peter asked, “So- this demon venom you all keep talking about. What exactly- how dangerous is it? And what did it do? How am I ok if I was poisoned?”

Magnus paused his ministrations and looked up at Peter, face carefully neutral. “Well, my dear, this specific demon’s venom is particularly lethal. If you didn’t have such accelerated healing, you would have gotten very, very sick, and it might have persisted maybe for the rest of your life if Alec hadn't brought you back here so quickly.”

Peter swallowed hard, laying a hand flat on his thigh to stop it from shaking.

Magnus pursed his lips in sympathy, and continued. “But, not to worry, my dear! Isabelle and I, your good old fashion science and magic tag team, managed to extract the venom from your bloodstream before it reached your heart or brain. And I was able to prompt your body in replenishing the cells killed by the venom faster than even your healing is naturally able to do.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “You- shit, you can do that? Isn’t that like, insanely intricate?”

Magnus raised a single eyebrow, the motion both haughty and teasing at once, and drawled, “Sweetheart, I’m over 800 years old, it would be a shame if I didn't have that level of control over my magic by now, wouldn't it?”

Peter gaped, his mouth hanging open awkwardly. “Holy shit- no way! Are you serious?”

Magnus fired a sly smile at Peter, his eyes dancing with mischief. “I’m only joking, I’m barely a spry 400.”

Peter barked out a laugh. “Still, that’s impressive.”

Magnus tipped his head in thanks, as he returned to scanning Peter with magical blue fingers. And Peter, as usual, couldn't keep his mouth from blabbering. “Wait, so did you live through the French Revolution? And the roaring twenties?”

Magnus’s eyes flicked up to Peter’s, and a slow smirk spread across his face. “I did indeed, my dear. I’ll have you know, Robespierre wasn’t a very generous lover, that’s for sure, but the man that Fitzgerald based Jay Gatsby off of most definitely was.”

Peter’s eyes bugged out. “No- you- you’re joking again, aren’t you?”

Magnus tilted his head elegantly. “I don’t know, you tell me,” he replied with a wink. Peter was speechless for a moment, but that didn’t last long.

“Did you go to any speakeasies in New York?”

“Darling, I owned the ultimate speakeasy in New York. Many of the biggest stars on the planet paid through their teeth for just a night at Midnight’s Pandemonium,” Magnus replied, eyes twinkling like shooting stars.

“That’s sick!!” Peter exclaimed. It really was, someone who’d lived through all these insane historical events. Magnus chuckled and went back to checking Peter’s blood.

“Hey - so, you were throwing shade at sorcerers earlier, right? Then - do you know Dr. Strange, by chance?” Peter asked carefully, maybe not quite ready to poke that wound just yet, but curious all the same.

Magnus glanced up with a scowl. “Stephen Strange, the doctor who wanted to play at being warlock, ugh what a poser.” He rolled his eyes with annoyance, his mouth pursed in something close to disgust.

Peter laughed hard at that, feeling his shoulder twinge a bit at the motion. “You’re really showing your age there, Mr. High Warlock, using last century slang like that all willy nilly.”

Magnus scoffed theatrically and pressed a hand to his chest. “Says the literal child who just said willy nilly with a straight face?”

“Ok fair,” Peter admitted.

“And I’ll have you know, kiddo, the nineties undoubtedly comes out on top, both in terms of slang and fashion. Genuinely, some of the all-time best pictures of myself are from the nineties.” Magnus smoothed his hair back haughtily and Peter just laughed along with him as he finished up Peter's magical blood scans. 

---

“Hey, Spidey! I’m here to oh so graciously escort you to Alec’s office.”

“Sweet! Lead the way, my good sir.”

“So those webs - so cool, man! And- they’re synthetic, right? Like- they don't actually come out of you, right?”

“Awww man, if I had a nickel for how many times I've been asked that- I could probably pay for proper heating in my apartment.”

“Ooh, rough man.”

“But yeah, totally synthetic. I actually started making them in chem lab at school.”

“No shit? Wow, that's- like,  ridiculously impressive, man.”

“Thanks! So- vampire, huh?”

“You know it.”

“But- you don't sparkle in the sun, do you?”

“Aww man, I wish! Actually, in real life, vampires can't really go out in the sun at all, like- they get burned to a crisp.”

“Oh shit, man - get away from that window then!”

“Nah, it’s chill, Spidey. I don't get burnt anymore, because of- uh, extenuating circumstances, let's say. I’m a Daylighter now. Capital letter. So now I can go in the sun and everything.”

“Huh. Neat!”

“Right? Everyone’s suuuuper jealous, it’s wild.”

“So, how old are you?”

“Oh my god, Spidey, you can’t just ask people how old they are!”

“Ha ha. Funny.”

“I’m aware. I’m hilarious. But anyways, I’m 18.”

“... and how long have you been 18?”

“I like you Spidey, we’re vibing on the same wavelength. But to answer your question, not long enough that I'm unable to appreciate the absolute masterpiece that is the Twilight franchise.”

“Oh, sweet! It’s really not given enough credit for shaping an entire generation.”

“Exactly! That’s what I've been trying to tell everyone! Did you know I’m literally the only vampire in the whole greater New York area who’s even seen the movies? Literally, every time I bring it up to Raphael, he gives me the scariest death glare of all time-”

Chapter Text

Alec glanced up at the soft rap on his office door.

“You called, bossman?” Peter drawled with a crooked smile. Alec waved him inside.

The kid tucked himself into the chair across Alec’s desk with more nervous energy than Alec had expected. Hmm.

“What’s up?” Peter asked, his eyes flicking restlessly over Alec’s desk, to the window behind him, to the fireplace, and then back to Alec.

“Couple of things to discuss, kid.” Alec said simply, trying not to psych the kid out any more than he already was.

“Okay, shoot. Haha, get it? Because- you're, you know, the whole archer thing?”

“Hilarious,” Alec deadpanned, and the kid let out an awkward chuckle.

“First of all- I want to emphasize just how dangerous the shadow world and demons really are. You- kid, you just got scratched today, honestly, and still that demon venom put you through the wringer.”

Peter’s face sobered as he sat up straighter, and Alec knew he was taking this seriously, knew that he took all this seriously - his calling, his responsibility, just like Alec's Shadowhunters did.

Peter was so young, though. That genuine eagerness pained Alec just a bit. It reminded him of the child soldiers Maryse Lightwood had raised and called her children.

But he didn't really want to pick at that scab today, so-

“Peter, I know you’re strong, and have insane reflexes, and are- sticky, I guess. But- and I’m not condescending here, kid- have you ever been formally trained in any sort of fighting, any martial arts or anything?” Alec tried to keep his face neutral, he didn't want the kid to think he was judging or anything.

Peter shook his head. “Not- no, not really. I just sort of picked stuff up as I went along.” He shrugged, a little sheepish.

“That’s ok, kid. That’s- actually really impressive. You saved my life a couple times in the ten minute span of the battle today, which was commendable, to say the least.”

Peter perked up at that, the beginnings of a smile blooming across his face.

Alec continued. “But it would make me feel a lot better if you got some real, formal training, here at the Institute. I have a feeling you’re not going to stop inserting yourself into future demon fights if I ask you to, am I right?”  Alec asked pointedly, and Peter chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.

Alex rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. “That’s what I thought, unfortunately. So- to make sure you don’t end up skewered by demons sometime in the near future, I thought it be best if we could help you out with some extra training. We have some of the best fighters and the best teachers around. Izzy, especially, could really help you utilize your smaller stature and superior strength to its maximum potential.”

Alec caught a clear spark of interest in Peter’s eyes before he forcefully blinked it away. Weird.

Peter tried and failed to hold back a grimace as he politely declined Alec's offer. “I-, sir I- I’m honored, truly. But I’m gonna have to pass on that, unfortunately.”

Alec lifted a brow. Peter paled.

Ok, maybe that was a little mean, Alec knew his disbelieving face was particularly intimidating.

Peter rushed to clarify. “No, no- I just, it's - well, I’m sure you're all soooo busy here saving the world from demons every day, I wouldn't want to add anything else onto your plate. I’ll - figure this out on my own, don't you worry about me, Mr. Head of the Institute.” The kid trailed off weakly, wincing at his own paper-thin excuses.

“Kid, I’m offering this to you for free. You wouldn't have to pay, of course. It’s just to help you out there, with your own superheroing or whatever you call it, and on top of that, we can teach you how to handle a demon properly if you ever run across one again without a Shadowhunter. I’m hoping that won't happen because Angel knows you have so much of your own shit to deal with, but we can never be too careful, right?”

Peter looked like he wanted to agree so badly. Alec was thoroughly confused why he didn't.

Peter looked down to the side, fiddling with his fingers listlessly. “I- um, I’m really sorry, sir. It’s just better for everyone if I don't.” His voice was so soft, Alec had to strain the last dregs of his Hearing rune to pick up his words. 

What the hell was that supposed to mean - better for everyone? Refusing this offer seemed really difficult for the kid; Alec wasn't sure why he kept doing it.

Alec thought he’d try another route. “Okay, well, there’s another option, of course. Like I said before, this world, this knowledge, is extremely dangerous, moreso than I can adequately explain in words. People who find out about the Shadow World have gotten really hurt, or worse. And- you’re so young, kid. Again, I'm not bringing this up to be patronizing, but you have so many other things to worry about. So just say the word, and I’ll ask Magnus to wipe your memories of this whole encounter and you can go back to just dealing with your regular vigilante problems, instead of adding demon problems as well.”

Alec hadn't expected the surge of panic that tore across Peter’s face like a wildfire. The kid thrust his hands out as if to ward off the very idea Alec had put forth.

“No! No- sorry, shit, I didn't mean to shout, I just- um, please don't- do that. Please. I’d like to - keep my memories, please.”

Alec was taken aback at the short outburst. Peter’s voice was trembling now. He was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. The kid looked like he wanted to say something else but was stopping himself, and Alec’s patience had worn out.

“Okay, kid, what’s really going on?” Alec interrupted, his brow creasing in frustration. Peter looked up at him with a caught expression, with way too much guilt stitched onto his pallid face for a kid so young. He blinked and looked back down at his hands.

Alec could barely hear him when he whispered, “I just- don't want to get anyone else hurt. I- You all have been so nice to me, and this place is really nice and cozy, but I’m gonna ruin it and you're all gonna get hurt. I- I’m cursed, everyone around me just gets hurt. I just- I get people hurt.”

With that, his voice broke and the kid finally lost the fight against the tears.

Alec’s chest tightened uncomfortably. What the fuck had this kid been through that made him this spooked? This cautious?

Alec's voice was embarrassingly hoarse as he spoke. “What- kid, you're not cursed. Magnus would have sensed it if you were, ok?”

Peter glanced up at him with watery eyes. He sniffed miserably and replied, “Either way, doesn't really matter. I can't- I won't ruin anyone else's life again. It's maybe- even a good thing that everyone’s rid of me, now.”

Alec froze, his stomach dropping nauseatingly. “What exactly do you mean by that, Peter?”

Peter gulped visibly, his eyes wide and shining. “Well,” Peter started reluctantly, picking at the skin around his fingernails anxiously, and then started to explain a truly horrifying series of events. 

A chill ran across Alec’s body, one that pervaded his bloodstream and sank into his bones. On its heels, icy anger followed.

“What.” Alec demanded. He knew his face must be a stony mask of rage right now. “The warlock did what? How is that possible, how was that the only solution?”

Peter gaped up at Alec, perhaps shocked at his vitriolic tone but Alec couldn't care less right now. His fists were clenched so tightly that they creaked.

“What kind of idiotic warlock rips a kid’s entire world away from them, to fix a mistake they themselves made?” Alec thundered.

Shit, this kid lost everything. He had nothing left, not even himself.

“No wonder Magnus bitched about Strange for a fucking hour,” Alec grumbled under his breath. Peter huffed a shaky breath that could have been a laugh if it wasn't so wet.

Alec glanced back down at Peter, and the blazing rage simmered to a slow boil as Alec swallowed back his initial reaction. Peter didn't need that right now; he needed something softer.

Too bad Alec was terrible at soft, but hell if he wasn't going to try.

He sat back down. When had he stood up in the first place? He took a deep breath in, not quite as calming as he wanted, but it cleared his mind enough to really take stock of the situation, and of Peter in front of him. 

Shit. There were- no words. Everyone, everyone, forgot him. There was no one left from his world  who knew him. Alec couldn't even begin to imagine-

But he could, though, couldn't he?

It wasn't the same, wasn't the same at all, but it was frighteningly similar enough, Alec realized with a sick jolt. Realizing that people you’d known your whole life didn’t know who you are anymore. There was a familiar kind of resigned sorrow that Alec could recognize too easily in Peter’s eyes; he’d been seeing it in the mirror for most of his life.

He'd seen it there until just a few years ago, and it was unsettling him more than he expected to, seeing it in Peter's eyes.

There was that despairing, numbing loneliness stitched into every measured breath Peter took, into every carefully calculated step Peter took. The price of holding yourself so far away from people, from anyone, to keep them from knowing you, really knowing you and all your secrets and failures and disappointments- the chill that spreads relentlessly out from your chest and radiates down your whole body till you're frozen stiff.

Alec’s eyes caught on Peter’s hands fidgeting restlessly on his thighs. Alec wondered if Peter’s fingers were as cold as his own used to be. Alec realized he really didn't want to know the answer; he didn't think his heart could handle it.

Alec swallowed roughly, and desperately dragged himself out from the storm of his darkest memories, a time when he hated himself and hated everyone around him because he was convinced they'd hate him too, if he let them close enough to know him.

There wasn't anything he could do for the boy he used to be, but maybe he could do something for the boy sitting in front of him, now. 

“Kid,” Alec started softly, but then shook his head. “ Peter.”

The kid’s eyes snapped back up from where they were boring holes into the top of his shoes.

“You- I’m going to fix this. We’re going to fix this for you.” Alec swallowed around something heavy lodged in his throat. 

Peter’s eyes widened, a desperate, cautious hope warring with disbelief and shock at Alec’s conviction.

“You can’t-” the kid's voice cracked, so Alec gently cut him off.

“Promise that?”

Peter nodded wordlessly, warily.

“You won't believe me if I do, I get it. So I won’t. Promise, that is. But- I’m not giving you false hope, kid. We’ve done the impossible before. Like, the truly, truly impossible. I’m the head of the fucking Institute. I can get it done.”

Peter just stared at Alec, his eyes almost imploring, begging Alec not to give him even a smidge of hope. Alec could tell how badly he wanted to grasp at that hope, just sink his teeth in and run with it.

But there was something fragile in the set of the kid’s mouth that told Alec he wouldn’t be able to handle being let down, not about this.

Alec wasn’t going to let him down.

Peter broke eye contact with a watery sigh, and slumped down in his seat, all his strings cut loose with nothing to hold him up. “Please don’t,” he whispered roughly.

The plea cut Alec deep in his chest.

The kid pushed on, his voice shaking and face drooping but his mouth was set determinedly. “You’re gonna regret it. I’ll- I’ll put you all in danger, and none of you deserve that. I- I’ve made so many mistakes, I’ve screwed up so many people’s lives already, I don't-” his voice broke. “I can't do that to you guys too. You’ve been so nice to me, you don't even know me, but you helped . And I can't repay you by screwing up your life too.”

Alec didn't interrupt, he felt Peter needed to get this off his chest.

“So- so, don't worry about it, please just forget I said anything, and please don't offer me that training regimen, either.”

That last part was especially difficult for Peter to say; Alec could tell just how much he wanted it for himself.

“Peter,” Alec said softly. He waited till Peter met his eyes again, waited till he straightened up slightly in his chair. Alec sighed. “Couple of things, ok?”

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but Alec just held up a hand. Peter snapped his mouth shut, eyes wide with a desperation that Alec recognized too well.

“Just hear me out. Firstly- Shadowhunters are in more danger daily than you can probably imagine. I’m serious. We know, every day when we step out of the Institute for patrol, that this could be our last day. We’re prepared for it. You coming into our lives, frankly, isn't going to add much more danger at all. Not to, like, shit on your importance or whatever,”

Peter sniffled wetly and huffed out a facsimile of a laugh. Alec smiled, tried to look encouraging or whatever.

By the Angel, he wasn't good at this. Fuck, he had to try, though. The kid needed to understand this.

“And furthermore, we all make mistakes, kid. We all fuck up. But unfortunately, in our line of work, fucking up means getting yourself or other people hurt." Alec paused, pushed down the guilt that was threatening to well up in his chest.

"It sucks, but it’s what we signed up for when we committed ourselves to this, to what we’ve promised to do, right? Things can't work out all the time in our line of work, right? That'd be impossible. ”

Peter blinked up at Alec, as if he hadn't thought of it that way. Alec didn't wait for Peter to respond just yet. He wanted to make this clear.

“Peter. If you knew all the stupid shit I’ve done, all the idiotic mistakes I’ve made recently, how many messes my fuck-ups have caused, your head would spin, Spidey powers be damned. I’m the Head of this Institute. I make impossible, hard decisions every day, and sometimes I’m wrong, and sometimes the price of being wrong is terrible . It’s a lot to handle. Some days I’m not sure I am handling it, but- I’m not going to stop. Because that means I wouldn't be protecting my city, right?”

Peter nodded hesitantly. Alec steeled himself, trying to sound convincing enough to himself first before he could convince Peter.

“Just because I fuck up sometimes, ok- a lot of times- and accidentally get people hurt in the process, doesn't mean I should push away the people who care about me. Where’s that gonna get me, huh?"

Alec sighed. He'd have to get personal, wouldn't he? "

I’ve done that, Peter. I’ve done that for so long, and all it does is fucking exhausts you, and it helps no one. You know why?”

Peter was biting his lip so hard it was drawing blood by now. He shook his head, chin wobbling all the while.

“Because the people are going to care anyways, kid. Whether you want them to or not, whether you push them away or not. It's- it’s really not up to you, to take away their choice to care about you, ok?”

Alec’s voice caught in a few places. So he wasn't used to opening up like this, but he was trying, ok? And he was getting better at it too, just ask Izzy.

Alec took a long breath, leaned his head down to meet Peter’s eyes. Something eased in Alec's gut at the dissipation of that horribly resigned determination Peter had held onto like a coat of armor for so long.

“Let us help you, Peter, even if it’s just because we can. We can and we care to. Do you really need a better reason than that?”

Peter was glancing at him with some skepticism in his eyes still, some reluctance pursing at his mouth. Alec needed to clear that.

“Spend some time at the Institute, okay? Come train with us. I know we can learn a lot from you too. And- you’re really, really, not going to put us in any more danger than we get ourselves into, so don't fucking worry about that, alright kid?”

Peter tore his gaze away from Alec and stared hard at his fingers as if they held a cheat code to this interaction.

Alec waited patiently, he knew it would take time for Peter to internalize any of this, and even longer for him to become accustomed to accepting any support. He knew firsthand how difficult it was to accept any support when you’d gone so long without, when you’d convinced yourself you weren’t deserving of it at all.

Alec could wait. He could wait for as long as it would take.

Peter looked like he’d been through the emotional wringer. Peter almost looked touched.

Clearing his throat and pulling up a ghost of a smile, Peter said, “It looked like that took a lot out of you, saying something that nice, huh?”

Alec scoffed, his insides thawing slowly at Peter’s response. Good, the kid was easing back into who he should be, who he probably was before his life got tossed into a meat grinder.

“What're you talking about- I can be nice! You- I'm nice.” Alec exclaimed, with a theatrical scowl plastered on his face. Peter giggled softly behind his hands. Thank the Angel for that, honestly. This kid's face wasn't built for that much anguish.

Alec narrowed his eyes in mock outrage. He made a shooing gesture with his hands. “Get out of here, punk. Visit to the principal’s office is over.”

Peter stood with a teasing smile, a little wobbly, but a smile nonetheless. “Yes, sir,” he said solemnly, the effect greatly diminished by his mock salute. Alec fought down a smile of his own.

“Hey. Izzy’s waiting for you in our R&D lab. I’ve heard you’re kind of a nerd, I’m sure you’d love to get your hands on our weapons and chem tech.”

Peter’s eyes widened with glee, a truly worrying expression that Alec was sure to have nightmares about. He could already feel his hand cramping from the mountain of paperwork he'd have to fill out after Peter and Izzy blew up the Institute's labs.

Alec pointed at him sternly. “You only get actual access for any tinkering and shit if you come back for training, ok? I’m basically bribing you, so you gotta come back here, alright, kid?” Alec emphasized with a raise of his eyebrow.

Peter’s grin softened into something small and genuine. “Yeah, I- that sounds fun, actually. Thank-” he coughed, looking down and avoiding Alec's gaze. “Thank you, Alec. For- well, for everything. Especially for saving me from that demon, but also-”

He broke off, swallowing hard and gesturing wildly at Alec and around his office in general.

“Don’t thank me, kid, that’s not necessary. Now, get out. I have so much work to do. I don't know if you heard, but some kid got gravely injured in a demon fight and took 5 hours out of my day.” Alec said dryly.

Peter smirked. “What an idiot.”

Alec quirked a small smile. “Nah, he’s alright. Mostly.”

Peter’s smirk melted into a shy smile.

Damn, Alec really had gone soft, hadn't he? What happened to his rough and tough reputation? Even this essential stranger wasn't fooled by his usual gruff façade.

With one last salute, this one just a bit more serious than the last, Peter ducked out of Alec's office with all the grace of a spider, and disappeared down the hall.

---

“Uh uh uh, hold it right there, kid,” a sharp voice rang out before Peter could enter the lab. He paused, one foot hovering awkwardly in the doorway.

“Um- what-?”

“PPE before entering the lab, kiddo. Goggles are to your right.” Isabelle pointed vaguely to the right of the door without glancing up, her head bent over a microscope slide.

“Uh- do you mind if I just wear my Spidey mask? Those goggles really hurt my head.” Peter scratched at his neck awkwardly.

At this Isabelle looked up, her brown eyes intense and intelligent as they peered through him. Then she blinked and smiled, the intensity cracking in a heartbeat. She was instantly approachable again as she rounded the lab table.

“Hand it over, lemme check the eye lense quality.”

Peter silently placed his mask in her outstretched hand.

After a moment filled with the clink of her nails against the eyes of his mask, she tossed the mask back at Peter and spun around primly, striding back to her station while calling back, “That'll do, kid. Come on in.”

Peter yanked on his mask and rushed forwards into the lab hastily. 

“Woahhhh you’ve got a centrifuge? And- that’s such a new model, too, oh my god.” Peter knew his eyes were probably embarrassingly wide. His fingers were tingling with a distinctively nerdy urge to fiddle with all the fancy, expensive-looking technology.

Isabelle cut her eyes to the side with a small smile. “We are a fully functioning, multipurpose lab, Peter. Just because we fight literal demons with glowing swords and magical tattoos doesn’t mean we don’t believe in science. We have everything.” Isabelle said smugly.

Peter could tell. So cool.

He turned slowly around the lab, taking it all in. Several tables were covered with scrap metal and the guts of weaponry sprawled about haphazardly, welding torches and metal hammers hidden amongst the mess, while other stations held test tubes and Petri dishes, the glass containers glowing and bubbling curiously. The table Izzy stood behind held a top notch electron microscope and a mess of used slides.

“Are you- wait, do you guys make your own weapons here?!” The awe was audible in his voice, but Peter was too impressed with this whole place to really be embarrassed.

Isabelle chuckled. “Not really- most of our seraph blades are made in a special forge by special Shadowhunters called the Iron Sisters,” her voice took on a dreamy quality as she relayed this. “But I’m the weapons master of this Institute, so I do fix them up and give the rest of our weapons upgrades and stuff like that. I also like to experiment in my free time, so some of these weapons you see lying around may have a few nasty surprises,” she winked at Peter.

He grinned wide, his hands buzzing with the electric urge to create. “That sounds so cool. You know, I sort of made my own weapons too.” Peter offered.

Isabelle raised an interested eyebrow.

“Yeah, I developed my own web formula for my web shooters.” Peter relayed excitedly, just the tiniest bit proud of himself (okay, a lot proud).

Isabelle frowned lightly. “You mean that stuff’s not coming out of you? Like an actual spider?” Isabelle’s voice was incredulous.

Peter made a face. Why did everyone think that?

“No, it’s- no I made it. Chemically.”

Isabelle’s eyes lit up in a way that reminded Peter too much of Mr. Stark. He had to look away.

Peter swallowed around the lump in his throat with difficulty and focused back on Isabelle as she asked, “That’s incredible. Mind showing me in a bit? I’d love to see if I can guess what you used, just for funsies.”

Peter raised his brows under his mask. “Oh wow, you’re a chemist too?”

Confidence looked right at home on Isabelle’s face. “I’m a little bit of everything, Peter. A while back, I performed a dangerous extraction of heavenly fire from a very volatile serum and cured it well enough to forge it into a glowing golden sword.” She said this casually, glancing at her perfect manicure and flipping her long hair over her shoulder.

Fuck. Peter didn’t really know what heavenly fire was, but it sounded rad as hell and he was thoroughly impressed.

“Sick!”

Isabelle laughed, her nose scrunching up with joy. She jerked her head, gesturing to him. “Get over here, kiddo. You look like a kindergartner in a candy shop.”

That was all the invitation he needed. Peter scrambled over and peered into the microscope she offered him. It was someone’s blood cells, but there was a hazy golden sheen surrounding each one, keeping almost everything out of the cells. Peter leaned back, his shock hidden under his mask.

“Cool, right?” Isabelle drawled.

“Yeah- but what-what is that?”

“It’s complicated, kid. But-" she paused. “It’s related to that heavenly fire I mentioned.”

“Oh shit, are you trying to replicate it?”

Isabelle sighed heavily, shaking her head. “No, actually- the opposite. I’m trying to prevent my friends from being experimented on.”

Peter froze. That was serious. That was a big responsibility.

“I just- a lot of my friends recently have had unrelated, weird things happen to them that could make them the target for a great deal of human experimentation, and their blood could potentially be used to decimate a couple of populations. I'm trying to see if that’s possible, and if it is, then I need to come up with a plan to protect them. Protect everyone involved." She shook her head with a small, sad smile.  "I’m- ha, experimenting on their blood to ensure no one else can. Paradoxical, right?”

Peter’s head was spinning a little, but that was really noble of her. He knew just from this small interaction that like him, as a scientist, she must be itching to work to a breakthrough in this heavenly fire stuff, and it must be killing her to actively be working towards the opposite, all for the safety of her friends.

“No, I think that’s really admirable, actually.”

She glanced up at him, her face breaking out into a small but genuine smile. That felt more right than the unnamed sadness that spread across her face earlier.

“Thanks, Peter. Oh, also- speaking of which.”

She pointed to a test tube rack filled four vials of blood.

“Those are yours. I didn’t look at them, after the first few scans to make sure you were clear of the venom. Take them with you, destroy them, whatever. Make sure no one gets their hands on them, okay?” Her eyes bore into his, serious and full of concern.

Peter felt something pulling at his chest. Being worried about like this, someone so concerned for his safety, after so long, it felt-

Peter cleared his throat and blinked back the tightness behind his eyes. He just nodded gratefully, pocketing the vials and turning back to Isabelle. Her eyes softened for a moment, before she grinned widely and pulled him towards another station, this one full of scattered solar panels and unfinished blades.

“Come check these out, I want your opinion on the viability of incorporating solar energy into our regular swords so that we can vanquish demons at night using the power of daylight, in case our seraph blades get burned up by demon ichor.”

Holy shit, there was so much in that sentence, Peter didn’t know where to start.

“Yeah, some demons are super vulnerable to sunlight, so they only come out in the dark. And therein lies the problem, doesn’t it?” Isabelle continued to explain. Peter nodded, lifting up the miniaturized, powerful solar panels Isabelle had soldered. These were incredible.

“These are incredible, Isabelle. How’d you get the panels this small while still holding this much power?” He asked in disbelief.

Isabelle grinned widely, a spark of the same excitement that flooded Peter’s veins flashing golden in her eyes as she launched into an explanation so complex it took all of Peter’s concentration to understand.

Oh, he was gonna have so much fun down here.

---

Alec knew, somehow, that Peter wasn’t going to show up to their first scheduled training today. Even though he'd barely known the kid for a week.

The kid had a heart of gold, that was for sure, but he was also nothing if not stubborn. And somehow, unbeknownst to Alec himself, Alec had decided it was up to him to make sure this kid could take care of himself.

He didn’t want to find the kid's body strewn across an alley in pieces, ripped open by some demon on one of his night patrol shifts, alright?

Alec sighed. Why did he do this to himself? As if he wasn’t overloaded with responsibilities already.

With great power, he thought, with a resigned shake of his head. 

By the time Alec reached Peter’s apartment, his second favorite leather jacket was already splattered with ichor. Alec winced as he tried in vain to swipe the black goo off without burning himself through his gloves. He didn’t want to show up to Peter’s place looking like this much of a mess, but it’s not like demons took a lunch break. What's a shadowhunter to do?

Alec took the stairs two at a time, and headed down the hallway of the apartment building Magnus has so graciously tracked down for him. Just one of the (many) perks of having a wonderful warlock boyfriend.

Whipping out his stele, Alec slashed an Unlock rune against Peter’s door and shoved it open with one shoulder. Muffled cursing and a resounding crash echoed over the rusty squeak of the door, and Alec winced.

He hadn’t meant to wake the kid up, but- well. It was almost noon.

Anyways.

The kid had better reflexes than Alec had expected. Must be that arachnid awareness or whatever the fuck he called it, because the kid somehow got his hands on his web thingies and blearily shot a web Alec’s way quicker than he could blink. Alec was just barely fast enough to shift aside to avoid a sticky mess, the web landing harmlessly on the wall behind Alec’s shoulder with a quiet thwip.

Alec raised a single eyebrow and gave Peter his patented unimpressed glower, which was unfortunately wasted on the kid.

Peter was still blinking the sleep out of his eyes, but his body was wired for a fight. Alec felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest at that instinctive battle readiness in this kid, far too young for that haunted look in his sleep-deprived eyes.

Once the kid had finally registered what was going on, his eyes widened almost comically and his hands came up over his mouth in panic.

“Oh shit- Alec, Mr. Lightwood, sir! I didn’t realize it was you, I’m so sorry about the whole web thing, I-"

Peter's words got cut off by a yelp as he collapsed in a heap to the side of his bed. His legs had gotten hopelessly tangled in his sheets in his haste to apologize. That felt pretty on brand for the kid.

Alec sighed, massaging his temples hard. Taking a deep breath, he forced his face into something slightly less unapproachable than his usual expression (read: massive resting bitch face).

“Don’t worry about it, kid.” He tossed a breakfast sandwich at Peter's chest, who fumbled a little but ultimately caught it, then stared down at it like it was an especially confusing puzzle.

“It’s just a sandwich, it won’t bite, Parker. Now, get your ass out of bed, you’re late, and I have better things to do than to personally escort you to the Institute for training.” Alec scowled, making sure to keep it light and breezy, far from the scowls he specifically reserved for the Daylighter.

Peter’s head snapped up at that, guilt painting shadows on his face. “Sorry, I-" he steeled himself, breathed out harshly. “I thought by not showing up, you’d get the message. I didn’t want to make you walk all the way here, I swear!” The kid's hands were fidgeting up a storm by his sides.

Alec rolled his eyes. “Get what message, Parker? That you’re ducking out of my very generously offered training regimen? What, too cool for school or something?”

Peter shook his head frantically, his hands waving in time to his head. “No, no! Nothing like that! It- I just-" he stopped abruptly as his voice began to waver, and he scrunched his mouth shut as if he could eat his own words.

Alec had a feeling where the kid was going with this, unfortunately. He shut his eyes for a minute, trying to think how to phrase this so that this stupid, well-intentioned kid would finally understand.

“Parker, your introduction into our lives isn’t gonna make them any more dangerous, ok? I said it before and I guess I’ll say it again." Alec exhaled harshly from his nose, almost laughing wryly. "Hell, I almost died twice just on my way here, just walking through the city, ok? Two separate demon attacks, Parker.”

Peter’s face contorted with even more guilt. Shit. That was the opposite of what Alec wanted.

“That’s not your fault, kid.”

Peter opened his mouth to argue, his eyes so determined to find some fault in himself.

Alec didn’t let him.

“No, kid, how the hell could that have been your fault, huh? You think yourself so important that you gotta be involved in every aspect of everything? You’re the center of everything and bad things can’t happen without your involvement, right? Gonna hog all the blame for yourself, Parker?” Alec finished, tilting his head pointedly.

Peter gaped at him, at an unusual loss for words, before stammering out, “No, that’s- of course that’s not what I-" He huffed in disbelief.

"Oh, you’re good.” Peter shook his head incredulously, shock traded in for a frustrated wonder, the glorious look of someone who’d been out-logicked.

Alec just smirked, crossed his arms and offered, “Comes from experience, unfortunately.”

Peter exhaled something that almost resembled a laugh, if you squinted.

“You’re an only child, yeah kid? Wouldn’t expect you to know how to share.” Alec said dryly.

Peter squeaked in confused protest, not quite sure where Alec was going with this apt reading of his character.

“You gotta share things, Parker, the good and the bad. Blame can’t only be yours alone. Leave some for the rest of us to shoulder, yeah?”

Peter blinked at Alec a few times, a little too fast and a little too wetly. He looked- taken aback, almost grateful. Alec almost wanted to give the kid a hug.

Peter cleared his throat, shaking himself slightly as if he could shake the emotions off him. Alec knew from experience it didn’t quite work like that, unfortunately.

“You’re kind of unexpectedly wise, for someone only a couple years older than me.” Peter snarked, a hint of a smile returning to his face, his fists slowly unclenching at his sides.

Alec scoffed theatrically. “A couple years?! I’m like, half a decade older than you, Parker.”

Peter stood up from his bedsheet entanglement gracefully, clutching the sandwich firmly in his hands as he scooped up his Spider-Man suit. “Well, when you say it like that, 'half a decade' instead of just saying five years like a normal person, it does kind of date you, Grandpa,” the kid replied with a crooked smile.

Alec’s jaw dropped.

“Grand- shut up, kid. Let’s just get moving,” he growled, rolling his eyes hard and pretending that the contagious grin plastered on Peter’s face didn't warm his old man heart just a bit. 

---

Peter swung into his apartment through the window he stupidly forgot to close as he left earlier, landing heavily on his feet in the tiny living room.

Shit, his arms were aching a bit. Maybe it was kinda stupid to swing all the way back after that insanely intense training session with Isabelle, but Peter was prone to bouts of stupidity here and there.

Though maybe next time, just maybe, he’d take up Alec’s offer and stay in one of the Institute’s extra rooms for the night instead.

He closed his eyes, imagining what it’d feel like, after so long - falling asleep in a warm, homey place instead of his cold, empty apartment, surrounded by other people instead of dark corners and choking silence, people who were strangers for now, but who could maybe one day be- peers? Friends?

He blinked his eyes open, almost instinctively squashing the flame of hope as it quietly raged through him, but then he stopped himself. Today had sort of made him want to stop doing that. So he stoked the flame instead, let hope slowly warm him up, thaw out the brittle parts of his heart that had almost died with May.

Today had been- good. To say the least.

Alec dragging him out of his apartment this morning had made Peter feel a little ashamed, the fact that Alec knew him well enough already to know he wasn't going to show up for training unless he was pushed.

How did he know that about Peter? Why did it seem like Alec knew exactly how it felt to have the people who were supposed to know you not recognize you anymore? It felt so strange, yet so warm, that someone knew Peter, after so long of everyone forgetting.

Being known like that was all at once unfamiliar and terrifying, but it sparked something in Peter today that he thought was maybe gone, for good.

That day too, that indescribable feeling that rushed through Peter’s whole body when Alec said his name, his name, as if he saw him, as if he understood, as if he got it, how terribly alone Peter was, and what that crushing loneliness was doing to him. Peter didn't wish that on anyone, didn't want anyone to truly understand what that was like.

Why did Alec? What had he been through that allowed him to know that?

Peter was selfish enough to admit that he was maybe a little bit glad - that Alec understood. That maybe Peter was lonely, but wasn't so alone. As alone as he thought.

He was - actually really grateful that Alec bodily dragged him to the Institute today. Training with Izzy was more fun than he’d had in a while, and the adrenaline rush from the fighting had shot his evening patrol with enough fiery energy that Peter almost felt like his freshman year self again, high on the indescribable rush of swinging through the city and feeling invincible in the way only a fourteen year old could.

His whole entire body was going to be sore as shit tomorrow though - Izzy did not  hold back, and she had a mean right hook.

And left hook. All the hooks, actually.

She had even let him hold a sword today! Not one of those fancy runed ones, but a wicked double-bladed bronze sword with an ancient Latin inscription engraved along the edge like they were in a fucking fantasy novel or something. And he only accidentally cut himself once while she was showing him some sword forms, so he counted that as an absolute win.

And then experimenting and tinkering with Izzy in the Institute’s R&D lab was insane - Peter hadn’t been that excited about anything scientific since- Tony.

He swallowed past the tangible grief in his throat, still so, so abrasive and painfully tender, but almost close to manageable by now.

Maybe.

Peter was actively deciding to focus on the intoxicating rush that came with figuring out how to combine the magical properties of adamas with good old chemistry and mechanical engineering to create some truly badass weapons, instead of the sharp pull at his chest whenever he entered a lab space that looked too much like Tony’s.

Peter sighed, and stretched out his shoulders, stiff from rounds and rounds and rounds of grappling with Izzy, and crossed into the kitchen to warm his dinner.

He smiled down at the brown paper bag in his hands, so similar to the lunches that May used to pack for him that it made his eyes sting.

Alec had lobbed the bag at his head as he passed by the lab in a hurry, on his way to some important meeting, and had gruffly informed him that Izzy had not participated in making the stew, so it was perfectly safe for consumption.

Alec had ducked out of the lab quick enough to avoid the welding hammer that a very offended Izzy had thrown at his head.

Peter absently watched the stew revolve in the microwave, leaning against his kitchen counter and feeling warmer than he had in the past six months. Maybe he really was doing fine.

Maybe. 

Chapter Text

After that first week, Alec kept seeing Peter everywhere.

Okay, that wasn't fair. Alec had played a part in making that happen, it wasn't just random coincidence. But still, it was- strange, to say the least, to see this mostly-mundane kid slot himself into life at the Institute so seamlessly.

But maybe it wasn't a bad strange, not really. Alec wouldn't admit that out loud, though. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

Alec stalked towards the kitchen, desperately needing a hot chocolate after that clusterfuck of a council meeting, over fucking video call. How Clave councilmembers could still be so intolerably obtuse through a fucking computer screen was beyond Alec.

He was just passing by the lab when a blur of red and blue caught his attention, and he paused mid-step like an idiot.

Alec cautiously peered in through the lab windows.

Peter was standing with his hands over his ears, a pair of safety goggles nestled tightly over his Spidey mask, bracing for- what, an explosion of some kind? Alec saw Magnus standing a few paces back, his glowing magic fingers aloft, looking like he was ready for damage control.

That was just a little worrying.

Then Alec’s eyes landed on Izzy. 

She had a comically large welding torch in one hand and a big flask of- who knows what, glowing inhumanely purple-white and blinding, in the other hand.

By the fucking Angel.

Alec gulped and forced his gaze back in front of him. Plausible deniability. Plausible fucking deniability, otherwise he’d go insane.

It’d be fine. It would. Magnus was there. He had it covered. Right?

Alec shook his head and pressed his fingers into his temples as he started speedwalking away from the lab. He had a tension headache.

For his own sanity, Alec was going to magnanimously ignore anything and everything he’d just seen in that lab. It was time to get that hot chocolate. 

The next week, Alec swept by the lounge, trying to look for Simon, who still hadn’t submitted his latest mission report. He poked his head into the room, but Simon was nowhere to be found. The lounge did contain one Clary Fairchild and local teenage vigilante Peter Parker, however.

Alec paused for a moment.

Peter was hanging upside down over one of the couch arms, flopped over all limbless like those stupid car dealership balloon guys, gesticulating wildly and ranting agitatedly about something. Clary was sitting on the floor beside his head and calmly braiding Peter’s hair, adding tiny pink bows to each braid, while nodding along to his rant.

Alec blinked.

And then the details of their conversation finally registered in Alec’s head.

“-no, all I’m saying is that, okay- the popular consensus is that Cap is the most attractive, but he’s just kinda vanilla, you know what I’m saying? Objectively speaking, Thor is the hottest. It’s just -no contest, man, he’s literally a god. How can anyone compete with that?” Peter rambled. 

“No, okay, I hear you, but what about Iron Man? Now that’s an attractive superhero,” Clary responded, and Peter nearly fell off the couch with the force of his full-body grimace.

“Ew, Clary!! You can’t say that, that’s my dad!”

In the weeks he’d known Peter, the kid had explained to Alec who the Avengers were in gory detail, complete with an intricate slideshow presentation. And props. So Alec really didn’t want to think about which one of them was the most attractive right now.

He really, really didn’t want to think about this teenager calling one of the Avengers ‘vanilla’.

Clary opened her mouth, but Alec didn’t stick around to hear her take on Captain fucking America’s sex life.

He hightailed it out of the lounge and sped towards the guest rooms. Maybe Simon was holed up in there. Maybe Simon could knock Alec out so he’d forget about that entire exchange. 

Magnus handed Alec and Peter each a watch, the faces delicate and wide, with subtly sparkling brown bands.

Typical Magnus. Gotta include a little glitter. Alec was getting used to it - he no longer sighed like a weary soldier every time he found a light dusting of sparkles on another one of his cable knit sweaters.

“They’re magic, of course. I’ve calibrated them so that voice activation can be used to signal each other.” Magnus smiled gently at both of them. Alec saw Peter’s eyes go wide as he reverently ran his fingers over his new watch.

“Kid.” Alec said.

Peter looked up, his face earnest.

“You give me a call if there’s anything you can’t handle, okay? Anything at all, even if you just need someone to patch you up after a rough patrol. And especially if you run into a demon, got it? Like I’ve said a million times, it’s our job. We’ll come help you.”

Peter blinked a few times, trying to push the emotion off his face and failing miserably. He cleared his throat with some difficulty before saying softly, “Thank you, both of you. I- uh, I really appreciate it.”

Magnus smiled at the kid fondly. “Anytime, kiddo. Seriously. I’ll swoop by in a minute if you need a little warlock healing, alright?” Magnus wiggled his glittery fingers at the kid.

Peter nodded with a small giggle, but Alec unfortunately knew the kid would think twice, thrice, before even considering using the watch.

Alec sighed, and clapped Peter’s shoulder. “We’re here for you, kid. Remember- you being in our lives isn’t gonna make them anymore dangerous, alright? What, you think you’re worse than the literal demons we face every day?”

Peter softly snorted at that, eventually shaking his head.

Alec nodded firmly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Get out of here, then. Use the watch. And- don't slack on your GED studying, kid.”

Peter smiled, a wobbly thing, before saluting Alec sarcastically. “Yes, dad. ”

Alec scoffed and lunged at Peter, aiming for a vicious nougie. The kid danced out of his reach with a bubbling laugh and just jumped out the closest open window with a cheerful whoop.

Alec just shook his head in exasperation. Every time the kid defenestrated himself without a care in the world like that, Alec gained five more grey hairs.

After a moment, Magnus sidled up to Alec and looped their arms together. His cheek rested softly on Alec’s shoulder and he spoke his words into Alec’s neck. “You know, darling, I think you’re rather good at that.”

Alec raised a brow. “At what? Wrangling sarcastic little shits?”

“Hmm, yes, actually. You’d be a natural when they hit their teenage years, my dear.”

Alec froze. He blinked rapidly.

Is he-

“Are you-” Alec craned his neck down to look Magnus in the eyes. “Are we really having this conversation now? Because of Peter? ”

Magnus’s eyes were sparkling with mirth and a stomach-fluttering love as he smirked up at Alec. He leaned in smoothly and landed a dizzying kiss on Alec’s lips, leaving him blinking stupidly after Magnus as he sauntered down the hallway, his hips swaying enticingly as he called back, “Maybe, maybe not - you tell me, darling!”

Alec huffed as he tried in vain to calm his rabbiting pulse down to a normal speed.

“That’s not fair, you’re playing dirty,” he mumbled as he stumbled after Magnus. This was ridiculous.

Absolutely ridiculous.

A few weeks later, Alec’s side pulsed worryingly, a flood of overwhelming emotion almost bowling him over as he was returning to his office.

Jace.

Shit.

Alec couldn’t quite tell what exactly he was feeling, just that it was a lot. Their bond hadn’t sent him emotions this strong since Clary left, and that itself was worrying.

Alec needed to check on Jace. Now.

As usual, when their Parabatai rune flared like this, Alec’s legs just subconsciously propelled him in Jace’s direction. He found himself striding through the winding Institute hallways almost blindly, led only by the rune carved into his side and his own instinct. Before long, Alec was stopping in front of one of the side lounges in the Institute. The door was left slightly ajar.

Alec could just barely see Jace through the crack, and was about to burst in to find out what exactly had his rune pulsing like that. But as he moved closer, Alec noticed who was sitting across from Jace.

Peter’s face was shining with tear tracks and his nose was rubbed red. His mouth was pressed into a firm line but his chin was wobbling. Jace was gripping Peter’s shoulder reassuringly, but his parabatai’s eyes were still brimming with unshed tears and his small smile was shaky and thin.

Oh.

Shit, well. It was about time.

Alec knew Jace still had a hard time talking about how difficult it was, Clary forgetting him, forgetting them all, but something warmed in Alec’s chest knowing that he would do it anyway, for Peter.

Alec was immensely glad they were finally talking, they both needed it and they could both benefit from it, but still - something about the two of them crying had lodged something incredibly uncomfortable in Alec’s throat.

It was difficult to swallow around it.

Alec was tremendously thankful that his Soundless rune was still activated as he slowly backed away from the lounge and headed back up to his office quietly. He tried his best to ignore the distressingly strong emotions that kept flaring through his rune as he finished up some paperwork.

Later that night, when Alec joined Jace in the training room, he took a moment to wrap Jace’s hands properly and then gently steered him away from the punching bag. Alec knew all too well just how easy it was to allow a preoccupied mind to orchestrate a cacophony of bruises on your poor knuckles.

Alec pushed Jace’s preferred dual blades into his hands instead and grabbed his own favorite swords. He didn’t hold back as their blades clashed, and neither did Jace.

As the minutes passed, Alec witnessed the slow unclenching of Jace’s jaw and the easing of his stiff shoulders as the clanging of blades filled the night air.

At the end of the night, Alec activated Jace’s iratze himself rather than letting Jace do it to better soothe his sore (but thankfully not bruised or split) knuckles.

Alec asked the kitchen staff to send a slice of Black Forest cake up to Jace’s room, even though Jace always pretended like he didn’t have a raging sweet tooth.

And Alec made sure the thermostat in the guest room that Peter usually crashed in for the night was turned up nice and toasty before heading to bed himself. 

So Peter was doing better, actually. For real, this time.

He swung smoothly into his apartment through the kitchen window (which he’d purposely left open today to let in some fresh spring air) and pulled it shut with a quick thwip of a web.

He sighed in content as the warm room eased his sore muscles, chasing the chill away from his limbs like- well, like magic. Magnus, the absolute legend that he was, had set up some sort of magical heating spell around Peter’s apartment and Peter has never been more grateful for anything in his life, ever.

He flopped back onto the kitchen floor and stayed there for a moment like a starfish, smiling sleepily as the magic warmth from the floor seeped through his suit. His disaster of a life hadn’t been instantly, magically fixed or anything, but- Well.

Simon had given Peter his old, insanely-detailed handwritten study guides for English and history, which were two of Peter’s worst subjects. And Simon's notes were so much more coherent than that inane GED prep book with the stupid tiny font and the stupid outdated practice problems.

Clary was just as confused about 401ks as Peter was, but she had helped Peter set up an account online to schedule-pay all his bills on time, which was such a fucking relief, honestly. He definitely wouldn't miss the scary red font on the endless letters from his grumpy landlord, thank you very much.

And she’d given him her handmade flashcards for demon identification, which Peter was getting so much better at. Clary’s incredibly intricate drawings of each grotesque demon were really helping, even though they frequented his (less and less common) sleep deprivation nightmares. She was an amazing artist, Peter was truly impressed. MJ would have loved her.

And yeah, all this didn’t exactly fill the terrible, craggy hole clawed into his chest with his own claws, the one that used to be filled with May and Ned and MJ and Mr. Stark, but Peter could feel the edges of that hole smoothening to something less sharp, something less biting.

The thought of crawling out of bed each morning didn’t feel quite as staggering anymore.

Patrol was fun again, especially since he kept ‘accidentally’ bumping into various Shadowhunters on their night patrols every so often, much to Alec’s chagrin.

Breathing was easier these days. And that was something, wasn’t it?

Peter heaved himself off the warm, cozy floor with much difficulty, stripping his suit as he slumped into a steaming shower. He needed to get to bed, he had an early start tomorrow. Alec had finally, finally agreed to let Peter attempt to shoot his bow and arrow (!!), just once, before he got wrapped up in meetings for the day.

Peter couldn’t wait, he was gonna be a pro, he just knew it. He had those Legolas genes in him somewhere, he was sure. It was gonna be so much fun. 

Alec and Clary were standing back to back on the roof of some random apartment building, slashing seraph blades at the horde of airborne Harpy demons.

They weren’t quite overwhelmed really, but Alec was annoyed because the fuckers kept flying up out of reach, and there was only so many times Alec could launch himself upwards without feeling like a total idiot. He didn’t even have his bow and arrows with him because he and Clary were on their way to a movie night at Maia’s.

Clary pulled her blade free from a falling winged demon corpse and swore loudly as ichor splashed all over her boots.

“Shit, Izzy’s gonna murder me, she loved these boots.”

Alec thought Izzy wouldn’t get the chance to murder Clary because Maia would kill them first for trudging into her apartment covered in demon ichor.

Shit.

Alec grumbled under his breath as more demons swooped down, trying to claw at his already-very-scratched up face. By the Angel, couldn’t they give him a break? He dove down and rolled to avoid sharp demon talons in his eyes. As he popped back up, he swung out his blades and sent two more demons back to hell in a shower of dust and sparks.

And then a large shape passed in front of the lone roof lighting, like something out of those stupid Bats-man movies the Daylighter was obsessed with.

And then he heard the kid.

“Hey there, Seﬞnor HOTI! Need some help?” the kid called out, a shit-eating grin audible in his voice.

Clary snorted loudly behind him. Alec glowered at her, but she was too immune to his glares by now, unfortunately.

So Alec scowled up at Peter instead, who was perched on a water tank by the side of the roof.

“Parker, you can’t say shit like that where anyone can hear, you're gonna get me arrested or something.”

Peter shrugged flippantly. “I think it's a fun little acronym. Certainly easier to say than ‘head of the institute’.”

Clary nodded solemnly from the corner of Alec’s eye.

He groaned. “Don’t encourage him, Fray. And- Parker, get out of here. Don't get involved, there's too many demons here for me to keep a proper eye on you.”

“Yeah, exactly! That’s why I’m here. Y’all look a little bit overwhelmed.” Peter drawled wryly.

Clary shot a huge grin at Alec, she’d been saying they were overwhelmed for a few minutes now, and Alec had been successfully ignoring her till now. He just glared weakly at her in response.

“Oooh Peter, never say that to Alec. He’ll deny it to his dying day, he’ll never admit to being overwhelmed. Ever. Even if he’s literally drowning in demons.” Clary teased with a sly grin plastered across her face.

“Oh, fuck off, Fray,” Alec grumbled, and ducked low to stab at another swooping demon.

Peter just laughed loudly, and then muttered something into his mask that sounded a lot like, “Karen, activate net webs.”

Alec frowned in confusion, but he didn’t spend too much time pondering it, on account of the hellbirds trying to rip his skull open with their claws.

Then Peter called over, “I’d highly advise you both to scooch out from under these evil little birds of prey.”

Little? By the Angel, what kinds of fucking aliens did Peter deal with on the daily if he thought these things were fucking little? Alec quickly decided he didn’t actually want to know.

The next thing Alec knew, Peter was shooting a web high above the cluster of demons. In mid-air, the web expanded into a wide sticky net, covering the demons and dragging them down, trapping them to the rooftop in a sticky, sticky embrace.

Alec and Clary had just barely rolled out of the way in time. Alec brushed himself off as he stood.

“Huh. That was surprisingly effective, Parker.” He was almost impressed.

Peter must have been beaming under that mask based on the way his shoulders straightened. He sent a quick nod Alec’s way. The kid adjusted his web shooters quickly, and then shot another few webs at the wriggling mass.

Clary looked visibly impressed as she sent a quick salute over to Peter. “Nice one, Petey!” she exclaimed.

Alec turned back to the writhing flock of Harpy demons struggling to break free from their sticky prison. “We’d better finish them off before they rip through, Fray.”

“On it, boss.” 

Clary and Alec got to work killing the trapped demons through Peter’s net.

“Y’all look kinda silly, it’s like you’re playing a messed up version of whack-a-mole, but with swords instead of those dumb mallets.” Peter piped up.

Alec rolled his eyes and held back a sigh while Clary laughed and said, “You’re not wrong. That actually makes this a lot more fun, to be honest.”

Peter giggled too, and then said, “This is kinda awkward for me though, just sitting here while you guys do all the hard, stabby work.”

Peter was sitting back on the water tank, swinging his legs idly, hitting the metal sides with his heels and leaving behind shallow dents in his wake.

Alec rolled his eyes. “Tough shit, Parker. You already got more involved in this than I wanted. I think I specifically recall ordering you to stay out of this.”

Peter squawked. “Well - you’re technically not the boss of me, Mr. Head of the Institute! I don't answer to you.”

Alec just grumbled under his breath, “Yes, so you keep reminding me. Little shit.”

“I heard that!”

“You were supposed to.”

Clary’s clear laughter rang out over the disgusting sounds of blades skewering bird demons to death. “Since Alec’s not gonna say it- thanks for your help, Peter. That was really cool, actually.” Clary said with a wide smile.

Peter perked up at that, likely grinning wide under his mask.

Alec scoffed, and reluctantly muttered a very quiet, “Thanks, Parker.”

Peter chuckled as he shot a pair of ridiculous finger guns at Alec.

Alec just sighed with fond exasperation. What else was he supposed to do? He definitely wasn’t going to shoot fucking finger guns back at the kid.

(Maybe he was). 

Peter breezily flipped through some flashcards as he paced across the ceiling of his apartment. Nice! He could properly identify almost all the ones Clary had included, though ravener demons were still giving him some trouble. He'd have to think of some mnemonic to remember them before the next ‘quiz’ Alec made him take next week.

Peter was so focused on the cards that he actually startled, embarrassingly, when his phone rang, the brash sound echoing around the walls of his kitchen.

The flashcards jumped out of his hands and fluttered sadly to the floor. Peter sighed.

He shot a web at his phone and yanked it towards him.

“Go for Spider-Man.”

Alec’s long-suffering groan made Peter chuckle.

“Parker, please tell me you don't answer every phone call like that. Please tell me you have caller ID.”

Peter resumed his pacing along the ceiling. “If it makes you happy, then sure, I’ll tell you that,” he smirked.

Alec sighed heavily, his voice going all crackly over the line. “Anyways. That’s not why I called. Swing by as soon as you’re free, kid.”

Peter paused. Something in Alec’s voice-

“And- bring a picture of you with Leeds and Jones-Watson, okay? A physical photograph, not one on your phone. Print it out at the library or something, alright?”

Peter choked on an inhale. It took a moment to cough and catch his breath again, but Alec waited patiently on the other line.

“You- wait, did you-?” Peter couldn't quite get himself to speak the words into existence.

Thankfully, Alec cut in. Peter could hear the slight smile in Alec’s voice, a smile that he would no doubt pretend didn't exist if they were speaking in person.

“Yeah, kid. We did. Magnus thinks he has a solution.”

Peter didn't dare take a breath.

“I don’t want to get your hopes up, but Peter- I feel good about this. I think it could work.”

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Peter dropped from the ceiling and landed gracelessly on his kitchen floor, something sparking in his chest that felt a lot like awe. Peter mumbled a quick, “Holy shit, thanks Alec! Be there in ten,” into his phone before hanging up and grabbing his mask from the back of the sofa.

He almost tripped twice while tugging on his suit, catching himself before he could break his nose against his stovetop and slipping on his webshooters in a rush.

Peter paused for a moment. He took a breath.

His pulse was racing so fast, he felt like a hummingbird, with a heart just as fragile.

He really fucking hoped this worked. He’d love to introduce MJ to Clary. And Ned would absolutely love Simon. And Peter-

Peter didn't want to think too far ahead just yet.

Shaking his head, trying not to choke on the flighty hope that was crawling up his throat, Peter leaped out the window, free falling for three blissful empty seconds, before shooting a web and soaring upwards and forwards, cutting through his city and heading towards his past, and towards his future.