Work Text:
Alec wandered the streets. He wasn’t sure why he was out there.
The thought denotes, sudden and violent, making his breath stutter out of his lungs.
He probably should call Jace, but his phone wasn’t in his pocket like it should be.
It didn’t matter; he knew the way to the institute by heart.
Flashing lights to his right pull his attention.
He doesn’t know why, but his feet take him there, it feels…..familiar?
Alec stands still before the flashing lights.
‘PANDEMONIUM’ it reads.
The ‘demon’ part of it goes out and becomes dark before flashing to life again.
Someone brushes past him, colliding with his body just hard enough to make him stumble on the spot.
He drags a hand over his face, steadies himself and steps inside.
Why he steps inside, he doesn’t know, he has never been big on clubbing, that was Izzy’s thing….and Jace’s.
Maybe Jace was inside? Maybe that is why instinct drove him inside the noise building.
He curled his fingers over his Parabatai rune for a second as the noise drowned out any active thoughts inside his head.
Lost. He feels like he is lost.
His breath stutters, his eyes scan the room.
So many Downworlders.
No one seems to mind him being there, though.
That surprises him.
Downworlders don’t usually like the Nephilim.
He hums and moves forward without much thought.
Someone smiles at him and waves.
Confusion rolls low in his belly like turmoil waiting to ignite.
He gives them a polite, unsure nod and keeps moving.
Someone grabs his wrist.
His body reacts before his mind does.
Muscle memory he doesn’t know is there, snapping into place.
He twists sharply, breaking the grip with brutal efficiency, steps in close and drives an elbow back.
The blow lands with a solid, sickening thud.
Shouts erupt around him, someone else lunges.
Alec pivots, sweeps a leg and sends them crashing into someone else.
“Don’t touch me!” Alec snaps, voice steady and commanding even as his thoughts fragment.
Another hand touches his shoulder, Alec turns around, his fist meeting someone's nose.
They go down to the ground, grabbing their face with a grunt.
He is panting, not from overexertion, but from adrenaline, ready for the next person to try and lay a finger on him.
The crowd has backed off by now, watching him with- worry, pity?
It confuses him.
A couple of glares and angry looks, he can place, that makes sense, that’s right.
He is bracing himself to run, to fight if he has to, as he reaches for the stele in his back pocket-
Fingers grace his hand before he can wrap his own around the heavy metal.
“Alexander,” a shiver goes down his spine at the sound of that voice.
He freezes on the spot.
Confusion.
Why….?
He takes a deep steadying breath and then- the most beautiful man he has ever seen steps out from behind him, gently guiding his hands away from the stele he was about to grab.
He stares, gapes really.
“You are beautiful,” he whispers it like one of his oaths to the angel, breathless and with a commitment that rivals the power of heaven, Edom and anything in between.
The man’s eyes gloss over for a second, he sucks in a sharp breath before the smile returns to his features.
“I- sorry, I am usually not that impulsive, I-” he starts to ramble.
“That’s quite alright darling, I don’t mind,” the man promises him.
Alec snaps his mouth shut and stares at him.
Two warm brown eyes look back at him, grounding, steadying.
“I…-” Alec braces himself; he is usually not this bold, not this forward.
“Can I have your number?” he asks.
The other man's breath stutters.
“Of course,” he answers, caressing his face with one hand, shooting him a smile that is bright but fake- definitely fake.
Alec doesn’t understand.
A second later, the room around them seems to come back to life again, like the breath everyone held got released.
Whispers ripple through the crowd.
“That’s him.”
“The Shadowhunter.”
“He’s getting worse, isn’t he?”
Magnus’s head snaps up, sharp, glowing cat eyes replacing the warm brown that was there just a second ago.
Alec is entranced by them.
Gorgeous.
“Enough!” the man growls, “Anyone who speaks about him like he isn’t standing right here can find another club to haunt.”
The whispers die instantly.
“I…” Alec looked around, meeting green glowing werewolf eyes, vampire fangs still exposed, eyes that were examining him.
He feels like he is missing a part of the story.
Like everyone else has gotten the script but him.
“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” he said, voice dropping low.
“I know, it’s alright, everyone is going to be alright, darling,” the man reassured him.
“Let’s get you home, hm?”
Alec didn’t know what he meant, but he felt a surge of trust.
Even if all his instincts told him to be logical, he somehow knew, against all logic, that he could trust the man in front of him.
He nodded, allowing the man in front of him to guide him away and through a portal.
“Magnus Bane,” He whispered, recognition dawning.
He had heard about this warlock before; he was powerful by all accounts.
The Clave feared him.
Magnus glanced at him, tears were brimming in his eyes.
“Yes, that’s my name,” he confirmed.
Alec didn’t fear him.
They entered the loft, a familiar scent of sandalwood greeted him.
Alec saw a flash of himself as they passed by a mirror in the hallway.
He looked different from what he remembered- older somehow.
Weird.
His shoulders sagged without his approval.
Muscles relaxing without permission.
Magnus led him to the couch, “Can you sit here for a second while I make a call?” he asked.
Alec nodded, sitting down and sinking into the soft material of the couch that enveloped him like a hug.
He closed his eyes momentarily, suddenly exhausted after the whole ordeal.
Voices, not one, but two, are what made him open his eyes again.
A woman, dark blue skin and eyes with white hair that seemed to glow as she approached him.
Alec blinked. He glanced at Magnus, unsure, seeking some sort of comfort.
Why was he seeking comfort from the high warlock?
They didn’t know each other.
Alec frowned, dragging a shaking hand through his hair.
“Hello, Alexander,” the woman said, voice as kind as her eyes.
Alec couldn’t help being cautious; he had, after all, just had a brawl in a club.
With Downworlders.
He hadn’t thought about it before, but maybe he was in trouble?
He tensed up, Magnus reacted instantly.
“You’re alright, Alexander. No one is angry with you, Catarina here is my friend- she is a nurse, she is here to check on you,” Magnus said.
Alec’s eyes flicked back and forth between them.
“Do I….have we met before? Do I know you?” he asked, desperate for an answer.
Magnus closed his eyes for a second, seemingly unable to meet his gaze.
When the warlock looked up at him, tears shone in his eyes.
“Yes, you do, darling, it’s alright,” Magnus promised again.
Alec nodded, slowly; he didn’t feel like he was being lied to.
Even if he didn’t understand.
He eyed the blue woman again, “You can call me Cat,” She said.
“Is it all right if I step forward? I need to be closer for this.”
A couple of seconds passed before Alec caved.
“Sure,” he said, short and simple.
He didn’t like all the fuss.
Cat smiled at him, warmly, he thought.
He wasn’t sure.
The blue warlock opened the palm of her hand in front of his face. He flinched slightly, but kept still.
“What are you doing?” he asked, anxious.
“Checking your condition and making sure you’re not under too much strain,” she said gently.
Alec frowned.
What condition?
Magnus sat down next to him, taking his hand and curling his fingers around Alec’s.
“Don’t worry your pretty little brain about it, Alexander. Everything is going to be okay,” Magnus promised once more. Alec was starting to wonder if he was reassuring himself more than him.
Cat gives a thoughtful hum, and Alec can see Magnus’s heart sink; the panic that rushes through his eyes is thinly veiled.
Alec doesn’t understand.
“It’s progressing,” Catarina says quietly.
“Not drastically. But the gaps are deeper. His instincts remain intact—possibly even overcompensating—but his orientation is slipping faster when he’s stressed.”
Magnus swallows hard before he speaks, “What can we do?”
“Manage his stress, follow routines, anchor him to what he feels, not what he remembers,” Cat glances at him, eyes softening as she notices the open confusion on his face.
“He can tell you don’t want him to hear,” she says to Magnus, rather than him.
Magnus eyes snap back to his face, finally notices Alec’s distress.
“I am sorry, Alexanders, we’re just making sure you’re okay,” Magnus says, squeezing his hand.
“Am I…..Am I sick?” Alec asks, warry.
Cat sits down on the coffee table in front of them, lowering herself to be less threatening. Alec recognises the move, recognises deep down that he has applied it many times.
He just can’t remember.
“You’re dealing with something that makes your memory unreliable, but you’re still you. Your skills, your instinct, your heart, they haven’t left you, they are still there,”
Alec swallows, averts his eyes to the floor.
“I don’t like not knowing,”
Magnus cups his face, forcing Alec to meet his gaze.
“I know, that’s why you don’t have to do this alone,”
Cat summons a steaming mug of something that Alec doesn’t recognise.
“This-” she says as she holds out the mug for him, “And plenty of rest, should help.”
Alec wraps his hands around it, staring at the contents.
He takes a sip, a warm fuzzy feeling spreading through his veins where sharp ice had frozen over before.
Exhaustion settles in quickly, dragging at his consciousness like an anchor on a boat.
“I do know you,” he whispers, flashes of moments playing through his fragmented mind.
“You do,” Magnus confirms again, thumb caressing his cheek.
“And I’ll keep reminding you,” The man promises.
“Magnus,” Alec mumbles, eyes sagging closed as his breathing evens out.
“Every time,” Magnus whispers.
“Every time I choose you,”