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Alec knew that it was only a matter of time before someone eventually came looking for him. He’d slipped away from the OPS Centre without notice and made his way to his favourite corner of the Institute library: a small nook, tucked away behind the dusty section on downwordly sea creatures. It was hidden and private. There was a comfortable wingback chair, its dark green leather cracking at the seams from age, and one of its front legs was broken but mended with duct tape. Beside it stood a lopsided reading lamp that had seen better days.
Alec sagged into the weathered armchair with an audible groan and closed his eyes. His mind was still reeling – a dizzying number of thoughts to process – and he was beginning to get a headache.
He’d left Clary and Jocelyn to celebrate their reunion in private with Luke; a moment Alec hadn’t felt privileged to be a part of given his own misgivings about Clary and her headstrong, one-woman mission to rescue her mother. A part of him envied her; in the time he’d known her, Alec had lost count of the number of laws she’d broken in the pursuit of saving Jocelyn. The Clave on the other hand had placed the blame on his parents, who had passed it down onto his shoulders to bear. He envied her freedom to do what needed to be done free of the shackles of filial duty or the Clave.
But then Alec supposed kissing Magnus in front of the Clave representatives and his parents hadn’t exactly been an act borne of respect to those he owed his allegiance. It was impulsive and instinctive – a decision that he was still trying to come to grips with. Magnus had given him an escape; solace from the road that would eventually led to his own personal purgatory. Lydia had unbound his restraints, allowing him to take that leap of blind faith. Magnus and Lydia had both saved him and for that he had a lot to be thankful for. But every action has its consequences and seeing Clary and Jocelyn reminded him of his own mother and the part of him – the part that would always seek her approval – that felt choked by their estrangement.
Then there was Jace. His headache grew worse when he thought of Jace. The last few weeks had been a tumultuous hurricane battering against their weakening relationship and just when he thought the storm had finally blown over, another had taken its place, this time inside Jace. As weak as it was, Alec could feel Jace’s turmoil through their bond.
The sound of unhurried footsteps drew Alec away from his thoughts. Hidden from view, he sent up a prayer wishing to be left alone. Unfortunately for him, heaven didn’t agree.
“I didn’t think you were the type to hide, Alexander.”
Of course it was Magnus who found him. Alec caught himself smiling at the thought, though he was thankful that Magnus hadn’t seen it. “I’m not hiding, I’m thinking,” he replied, internally flinching at the petulance in his voice. He quirked a brow when Magnus loftily wandered into view.
Magnus leaned against the shoulder-height glass-cabinet that held an assortment of historical artefacts and trinkets. He looked tired, making Alec wonder if the spell Magnus had performed to wake Jocelyn had taken more out of him that he was letting on.
“Thinking.” Magnus pressed his lips into a thin smile and nodded. “You do have a lot to think about.”
Something inside Alec ached at the tone of sadness in Magnus’ voice, alien to the enthusiasm and zest that he was used to hearing.
“Are you angry with me?” Magnus asked.
Alec lifted his gaze to Magnus. “Why would I be angry at you?”
“For Camille.”
Magnus wasn’t looking at him but Alec shrugged all the same. “No.”
“Disappointed perhaps?” Magnus finally turned and all Alec could see was his youthful face betrayed by the lifetime of weariness in his kind, brown eyes. Seeing Camille kissing Magnus–a clear distinction he’d drawn in his mind–had been awkward, but he was familiar with the discomforting sensation – like falling. He’d felt it when Clary had kissed Jace, but this time it was undefinably different and deeper.
Then there was the issue of immortality–a heaviness that loomed overhead. It was something they needed to discuss but Alec neither had the energy nor the desire to broach that particular topic. All he knew was that when Magnus smiled at him, the world slowed down, and for now, that was what he needed most.
“In your taste in women, maybe,” Alec said after a beat. He quirked a brow at Magnus, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small smirk.
Magnus’ brows lifted in surprise. He shook his head and chuckled softly, muttering something Alec couldn’t quite hear under his breath though Alec was sure he’d distinctly heard his name.
“How’s Jocelyn,” Alec asked, hoping to steer their conversation into neutral ground.
Magnus managed a tired smile. “A little disoriented but that’s to be expected.” He moved to the nearest book shelf, head cocked to the side as he slowly ran his finger across the spines of the old books. “She should be fine in a day or two.”
Alec hummed in response. That was good news at least. He could only hope that Jocelyn knew enough, something–anything–that could help them get Jace back and maybe defeat Valentine.
“Clary wants Jocelyn to stay here at the Institute for safety.”
“Which probably means Simon and Luke hanging around. Great,” Alec replied sardonically. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “My parents are going to love that.”
Magnus chuckled in agreement. “Speaking of your parents. That’s partly why I’m here. We’ve been summoned.”
Alec looked at Magnus with narrowed eyes then sighed. “Did they say why?” he asked wearily, running a hand through his hair.
Magnus looked sheepish. “I can’t imagine there being that many reasons why they’d want to see the both of us – other than the obvious, of course.”
Alec rolled his eyes and moved to get up when Magnus held up a finger. He grew curious when Magnus waved a hand. The armchair from across the room slid its way to a stop right beside Magnus and he dropped into it with a sigh of satisfaction.
“I’m going to need a drink before I deal with your parents,” Magnus said with a grin. “I believe you owe me one anyway.”
Alec’s eyes widened in surprise. “You want to have our date here? Now?”
Magnus shook his head. “Maybe not a date. Just a drink. I think we deserve one, don’t you?” Before Alec could say another word, Magnus clicked his fingers and a pale pink drink appeared in his hand.
Alec peered down at his own silvery drink. His own shimmering reflection stared back at him. Not exactly the most appetising, Alec thought. He looked at Magnus dubiously.
“Liquid Steel,” Magnus said cheerfully. “Just a name I assure you. For courage.”
Alec snorted.
Magnus held out his glass for a toast.
Alec hesitated for a moment then clinked their glasses together. He frowned at his drink then brought it to his lips, the taste surprising him. He arched a brow and asked, “Does courage always taste like pineapple?”
Magnus beamed. “It does when I make it.”