Chapter Text
Alec is thirty-three when he writes the first letter. He's inspired by an offhand comment their son makes while he's tucking him in to bed. "Daddy, you have a hair that's different from the rest," he says, reaching up to pluck it painfully from Alec's head. Alec laughs and takes the hair out of Max's hand. There are more than a few black strands mixed in, but it's easy to spot – a single grey hair.
"That happens when you get older, Max," he answers, and throws the hairs on to the floor. They'll mix in with the multitudes of cat hair until he decides vacuuming is something he should probably do. "Your hair can turn white or grey. It just happens."
"But daddy is way older than you and he's never had that colour of hair," Max answers, pulling the covers up to his neck and turning on his side.
"It's going to be different for you two," Alec says, kneeling down beside the bed and crossing his arms over the covers. He pulls at a loose thread as he thinks. "You're going to age, but after a certain point, it won't be physically." He pokes Max on the forehead. "And you know daddy would just turn his hair blue or something if that ever happened."
"It was blue last week."
Alec laughs, leaning in to kiss Max on the cheek. "Yeah, it was," he agrees, getting to his feet. He shakes out the pins and needles in his knees and tells Max he loves him. Max is already snoring before he shuts the door.
Later on that night he sits down at his desk stares out the window. It's been raining for a few hours now. Magnus hates the rain. He's out on business, should be getting home soon, but Alec knows he's going to be tired. The rain always makes him tired. He'll probably go straight to bed without eating, but Alec's made him a dinner anyway. It's sitting covered in foil in the fridge, with written heating instructions taped to the top.
Alec stretches his arms above his head and sighs as his elbows crack. He replays the conversation with Max over in his head and wonders if he should have said something different. Eventually they'll have to explain the concept of mortality to him, but Alec had hoped it was going to be later rather than sooner. It's something that took Alec himself a long time to come to terms with. He supposes Max has some idea. After all he knows Magnus has been alive for centuries, and besides a few of their friends there really isn't anyone else in Max's circle with that sort of life experience.
It has him thinking about what life will be like for Magnus and Max when he is gone. He knows it's something Magnus struggles with – that every passing year for Alec is another year closer to the end. It's not a point of contention in their relationship anymore, but it's still a painful thought, and despite everything... he worries.
He's not sure where the idea comes from, but before he knows it he's got a blank piece of paper in front of him and a pen in his hand, and the words just flow out of him. When he's done the rain has stopped it's relentless assault on the windows, and he's folding the page delicately in to a square. He slides it in to an envelope and seals it. On it he writes:
Open When I Have Gone
He bites his lip as he stares at it. He almost decides it's a dumb idea, and is very near to tossing it in the trash, when he hears the front door open and close, and the happy cries of Chairman Meow as Magnus arrives. Alec shoves the envelope and pen in to a desk drawer, and gets up to meet him.
*
By the times he turns forty he's written dozens of them. He's moved them to a box he keeps in the back of his half of the closet (it's more like his eighth of the closet – Magnus has a lot of accessories). His hair is speckled here and there with grey now, and when he looks in the mirror he can see the crinkles of time in the corner of his eyes. The creases of laughter at the edge of his lips. He looks in the mirror and he sees happiness, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.
*
When he's sixty-two, he writes a letter to Max. He's included little bits for him in some of his other letters to Magnus, should he ever decide to share them with Max one day (Alec likes to think he might), but this is the first time he writes to Max only. He draws a little dinosaur in the corner of it, because at seven Max was absolutely obsessed with them. It was one of Alec's favourites out of Max's many obsessions growing up, one he never really grew out of if the design of Max's phone case is any evidence.
He talks about how much he loves Max. He talks about what an honour it has been to raise him, how fulfilling his life has been. He doesn't ask him not to be sad, because he knows that comes with loss, but he says he hopes the sadness passes easily. He hopes that Max can look back on his childhood and smile.
He writes on this one:
Max: Open When I Have Gone
In another he simply writes the words I am so proud of you. That one he titles:
Max: Open When It Gets Easier
*
Alec is eighty-three when his hands no longer allow him to write fluidly. He writes one last letter, and he asks Max to read it over because he can't tell if it's legible. Max is crying as he starts to read, but he nods his head slowly and tells Alec it's perfect. He helps his father fold it in to a square, and together they fit it in to the envelope. Max tapes it shut and flips it over. Slowly, Alec writes:
Open When You Can't Remember The Colour Of My Eyes
When Magnus enters the room, Max has already stored the letter away in the overflowing box. He finds Max sitting next to Alec's bedside, head resting on mattress as they sleep. "Hey little goose," he says, gently shaking Max awake. "Raphael called – he said you're running late for that meeting."
"Yeah, sorry," Max whispers. He wipes at the tears that have long dried on his cheeks. "I love you, dad," he says to Alec, placing a kiss on his cheek before he rises. He turns to Magnus and smiles. "I love you too, you know."
Magnus returns the smile and pulls him in to a hug.
Shortly after he leaves, Magnus crawls in to the bed beside Alec and nestles his face in to the crook of his neck. "I'm home," he says quietly, placing a kiss to Alec's ear. Alec sighs in his sleep, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
*
Alec is eighty-four when he goes peacefully in his sleep. He's surrounded by his family, and it's exactly how he would have wanted it to happen.
*
There isn't an order to the letters. There are no dates to tell when they were written, only simple instructions for when they should be opened. At first Magnus wants to rip them all open and read them in one sitting. But the first one he reads is titled Open When I Have Gone and, in it, Alec chastises him for the mere thought. Magnus shakes his head and wipes the tears from his face as he reads through the letter.
Magnus,
First, I want you to know how happy you make me. Every day with you feels like the best day of my life. I'm going to write this to you often, because if there is one truth I can say without the slightest bit of hesitance, it's this: I love you. I have loved you since the moment I saw you, I think. And I will always love you.
I know that right now you're probably feeling lost. You probably feel angry. Sad. I want you to know that's okay. But I need you to be the father Max needs you to be right now. Promise me you will never shut him out. You would never do it intentionally, but I know you like to keeps things inside. You're stubborn sometimes (I think you got that from me a little bit – for that, I'm sorry), but you're so strong, baby. This hurt is going to pass. It might take a long, long time. But one day, I want you to think of me and smile.
(Also, if I do keep writing you these letters... open them when I tell you to, alright? Don't you dare go through them all at once. I know you better than you think I do, Mags.)
Tonight Max pulled a grey hair out of my head, and I got to thinking about what it will be like for the both of you when I am gone. We're going to have to explain it to him someday. I realised that tonight. I think I'll ask you about it tomorrow.
Gods, Magnus. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.
I love you,
Alec
