Work Text:
What am I, insane? – Another soul fades to grey.
And all I want to know is, and all I need to know is:
Who is controlled in this darkness?
Darkness – AWR (feat. Sonny Alven)
*~*~*~*
"Magnus."
It was dark and damp. No, it was raining and he was outside walking precariously and dancing on hardened slippery steps.
"Magnus."
He was high up and the city was dark with only patches of yellow light here and there. Dreary.
"Magnus! Get down."
Someone was calling him but he hated it. He couldn't remember why but someone was stopping him from doing something stupid. Why couldn't he?
"Magnus."
The haze cleared and somehow he wasn't outside anymore. No, he was staring up at his ceiling on his bed and it was warm.
"Magnus... Are you okay?"
His mind relaxed as he registered the voice. He knew this voice. This voice was home.
"Magnus?"
A shadow hovered above him and startlingly-bright hazel eyes gazed into his own with concern and the beginnings of strong affection.
"Magnus? Hey, are you alright?"
He lifted his hand and brushed his fingers across soft warm cheeks and cupped the boy's neck.
"Yes. Yes, I'm fine, Alexander."
Alexander smiled a shy smile. "Where did you go?"
Magnus felt it then. A slight twinge of restraint and regret and shame. He didn't want to say. "I... was in my dreams." I'm sorry for lying.
"What did you dream of?" Alexander asked, open curiosity plain on his face.
"London. I dreamt of London." Magnus replied. He circled his arms around the boy's taut waist and turned them around so he was settled on top instead. He leaned forward and caught the boy's soft chapped lips with his own for a gentle kiss. "Alexander..."
This was home.
“Oh, Magnus, darling.”
Cat eyes widened and Magnus was wrenched out of the bed. He was now standing in front of his old London home. Camille was in front of him looking dainty and beautiful. Her flowing dress rippled around her like ocean waves.
“Magnus, come. We have things to do.” She crooked her finger, red painted lips curled up into a sinful smile. “Don’t just stand. You know I hate waiting.”
“Magnus!”
“Stay away from me!” Magnus stumbled back, hands thrusting out and a swirl of magic released from him in a flurry.
Everything was electric blue and he squinted, trying to make sense of the next rapidly forming scene.
Magnus froze. Ragnor was falling from the top of the stairs and down, down to him. He went over to kneel on the floor, bent close to his green friend and on the verge of tears. His eyes slid up and he was about to tell the Nephilim to go back to the Institute when he saw his ex-lover still standing, waiting.
“Have you sunk so low?” Camille sneered. “Helping those with Angel blood. Look at what you’ve done.”
“Magnus, wake up!”
“Look at what you’ve done to us!” Camille’s face turned wretched in anger, her former beauty twisting into nothingness. “We’re Downworlders. We help each other. Or have you forgotten?”
Magnus opened his mouth, ready to retort, anger rapidly blinding him. Anger so strong and so consuming, his cat eyes started to flash. He felt his demon blood curdling inside him, just waiting for the last push to force its true nature upon him. And he didn’t care. He didn’t care.
He stood full of fury, his blue smoke curling around his body in a sweet dance. “Enough, Camille.” Magnus whispered in a deadly tone.
A flash of hazel and he saw runed pale arms crossing together to hide the lovely face he had come to admire so to protect against Camille’s vengeful mercy.
“Enough!” Magnus dispelled his magic in force, sparing nothing as he infused his emotions into the blue sparks that sent Camille into a ball of screaming and writhing fire. His heart swelled in sick but pleasant satisfaction. “Enough.”
“Something’s wrong with him, Catarina.”
He tracked his Alexander's retreating form and his heart clenched. There was fear in the Nephilim’s voice as Alexander called his name. His heart thudded painfully then it slowed. Acceptance.
“Demon child!”
“What could possibly be wrong? His body is unharmed.”
“Demon!”
He was being dragged and it hurt. Everything hurt. The rough road was scraping his tender skin and his scalp was burning from his hair being pulled and he just wanted it to stop.
“Please! Father!”
“I’ll check his blood stream.”
The water tasted foul and his body rejected it. Something was swirling inside of him like a vortex, consuming his fear like gasoline to an engine. He was revving up and suddenly he exploded.
“I – I can sense a mix of Downworlder blood in him.”
Magnus heaved in a greedy gulp of night air. He glared at the rusting steel above him, wondering if he had too much to drink. The steel ceiling edged closer and closer to him. He sat up, struggling, and suddenly dipped down into the nothingness beneath him.
“Do you need help getting them all out?”
He was underwater again. He curled up into a ball. His head was aching. He needed oxygen. He needed to breathe.
“He needs to throw it all up.”
Magnus opened his mouth involuntary and took a gulp, bracing himself for the burning sensation in his lungs once more. The first thing he noted was that the water tasted like copper and steel and something foul like Sulphur.
Blood.
Magnus jolted up to a sitting position, eyes wide. He had a second to breathe in deeply, note the sandalwood smell and the familiarity of his loft, then promptly double over. He wretched all over his canary yellow blanket, eyes rolling back to his head. His lungs burned and his ears rang.
A soothing hand patted his back and with a sudden push, he barfed all over again. The pushes didn't stop and he continued to empty his stomach until he was reduced to dry heaving. His mind was spinning, cold sweat beading down his whole body.
The room started to revolve and he fell right back into the abyss.
*~*~*~*
Under the moonlight, maroon silk sheets twisted and turned, catching the light like a delicate leaf in the wind. Harsh sounds of air filled the dark room then came the first groan followed by moans and whimpers. But the sounds were unfamiliar to the black and red walls of the room. The sounds that weren’t from pleasure but pain and discomfort.
Beads of sweat ran down caramel skin and soft eyelashes like black lace were displaced by the terrible scrunch on the handsome face of Magnus Bane. He awoke with a start, skin clammy, and groaned loudly, swallowing thickly after.
His head was throbbing and he felt sick. He felt like he had been cursed and was dying. His body was heavy. With a herculean effort, he grabbed his phone from his bedside table and called the one person who might be able to help him.
The ring went on for long seconds and then… click.
“Magnus?”
He swallowed, trying to clear his throat to speak. “Catarina,”
“Are you okay?”
Despite everything, Magnus smiled at the concern he heard. “I’m not sure.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
Click.
Magnus tucked himself back into his bed. Everything felt heavy. And he noted that even his vision was slightly hazy. He closed his eyes and drifted right back off.
Minutes later - or maybe even an hour -, he woke once more to Catarina leaning over him with a worried face. Her hand was glowing and healing his body for whatever reason.
“I don’t remember getting hurt.”
Catarina frowned. “No, Magnus.”
“Then why..?”
She shook her head. “What do you remember?” Her voice was tight but tender.
Magnus took in a shaky breath. “I’m not sure.” He shuffled over and tucked his face into his pillow weakly. “Did I kill Camille?”
A beat. “I don’t know.”
He shook his head and rolled out of bed despite Catarina’s protest. Catarina followed him to the living room where he got out some alcohol, offered her some and shrugged when she refused. He sat down on his couch and she did the same.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Magnus poured some vodka into a low ball. “I was stuck in a shipping container.”
Catarina opened her mouth but was denied from speaking by a ringing that echoed through the loft. Magnus snapped his fingers and took hold of his phone, noticing two messages from Alexander. A cold rush glided down his spine when he saw the caller id with the same name.
“We’re Downworlders.”
“Magnus?”
Magnus’ eyes flickered over to his friend. He downed his drink and swiped his phone's screen to accept the call. “Alexander,” He greeted.
“Magnus, can we come up?” Alec sounded hurried.
Magnus snapped his fingers again to allow it and threw his phone away. “Company comes.” He frowned.
Catarina looked confused and concerned. “He didn’t come to check up on you?”
“What for? Aren’t I powerful?” Magnus replied so bitterly his voice was like pieces of shard glass.
Catarina didn’t flinch but her face set into simmering upset like the calm before an angry storm.
Magnus said nothing.
Neither of them reacted when a crash and thunder of footsteps neared them. But Catarina did rise in surprise when Alexander entered the living room carrying an unconscious and bloody body Magnus recognised as Isabelle.
He felt a pang of concern along with hurt. He really was starting to become their pet warlock. Just like with Camille back then.
“Have you sunk so low? Helping those with Angel blood.”
Alexander looked at him and his eyes ran up and down the length of his body. “Magnus,” The Shadowhunter breathed out. “I’m sorry. But I didn’t know who else –,”
Catarina raised her palm and gestured towards the couch that Magnus promptly vacated. Alexander shut his mouth and set his sister down, free hands shaking in worry. Catarina then moved in and ran her eyes over the prone form.
Magnus shifted closer to his warlock friend. “I’m too lazy for this.” He admitted softly enough for only both of them to hear.
Catarina gave him a brief side-glance. “Alec, I am the better healer out of us two. May I?” She gave a half-smile when Alec nodded gratefully.
Magnus brushed past her, briefly leaning his head on her shoulder as thanks. He was too tired for this. Lazy was a better word. Less… weak.
Alexander released a breath and turned to observe him critically. “How are you?”
Magnus gave a shrug and tried not to berate himself when the boy frowned. “I’m fine.” He amended. Pet warlock, ran through his mind and he shoved it away forcefully.
“I’ve been texting you…” Alexander shook his head and walked over, taking one of Magnus’ hands. “You seemed off back at Camille’s.”
Catarina threw him a look and Magnus ignored her along with the sudden pick-up of his heart. “Why?” He questioned evenly.
“Do you… not remember?” Alexander furrowed his brow and leaned in closer, his other calloused hand reached up to brush away a stray hair.
Magnus blinked, not betraying any emotion on his face. “I need to know your version.” He said slowly, raising a brow afterwards.
Alexander looked put-out but answers anyway. “You weren’t reacting to anything when I arrived. It was like you weren’t even in the same room. Then, we started fighting Camille and her fledgling arrived knocking down both Clary and Izzy and they almost had me but you… I’m not sure what you did but I think they’re dead.”
Catarina sucked in a breath from behind Alec’s back and shifted guiltily for her slip.
“Who saw?” Magnus disregarded her and asked steadily.
“Just… Just me.”
Magnus nodded and lowered his eyes. A scene flashed before him, frozen like a photograph. He looked past two flames of fire in mid-air straight at Alexander’s face, stricken with fear. His heart thudded loudly once. “I see…”
“Demon child!”
“All done. She just needs to rest.” Catarina announced.
Alexander scanned his sister then squeezed Magnus’ hand before letting it go. “I need to bring my sister back but…” The boy shifted on his spot. “I mean, you still look tired and I should let you rest. When can I – I’ll come over tomorrow morning?”
Magnus nodded deliberately. “There’s no need but if you want to...”
Alexander gave him another once-over. “I want to.” He ambled closer and gave him a hug. “Good night.”
Moments later, the sound of the door thudding close felt final and ominous.
“Good night, Alexander.” Magnus whispered.
Catarina stayed silent for some time and then, “you killed her when she was attacking the Nephilim?”
“It would seem so.”
“What have you done?” Catarina sighed.
“I was out of it.” Magnus laughed bitterly. “But I know what I did. I couldn’t allow her to harm Alexander.”
“No? And what about you?” Catarina took his hand and held it. “Do you think he knows?”
Magnus threw her a look. “Who? And about what?”
“Alec. Does he know what risk you took?”
“No.”
*~*~*~*
Magnus was still tired. After the ordeal he had gone through, he wasn’t surprised. What he was surprised about was the fact that he was awake again when it had barely been three hours since Catarina left. Stupefied, he stared at his ceiling, darkness creeping up his irises as his brain tried to shut down.
And that was when he felt the disturbance in his wards. Someone was coming up to his loft. Someone he liked enough to allow through the wards without question. This soon, it wouldn’t be Alexander. And somehow, he was happy about that fact.
He stood up smoothly and walked out of his bedroom, through the hallway. He reached just in time to see the door swing open to reveal an old friend of his. “Raphael.” His voice was gravelly but did nothing to hide surprise.
Raphael looked furious and sad. Those weren't a winning combination in any circumstance. “Magnus,”
“Is this about Camille?” Magnus asked wearily. Because of course it was. He knew that.
“I just found out myself. Was wondering why I was in pain.” Raphael said. “Your Nephilim didn’t even bother informing me he killed her.”
Magnus swallowed. “Don’t. I did it.”
Raphael froze.
“I killed her.”
“Dios. Shut up!” Raphael raised a hand just as Magnus opened his mouth once more. “Amigo, someone might hear you.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have done it.”
Magnus rubbed his fingers together hard and cast a soundproof spell around them both. “Even so. If she had succeeded killing a Nephilim, the end is the same.”
“But you don’t get to decide that.” Raphael huffed. “Forget it. What’s done is done. I won’t sell you out to my people. We cannot harm the Nephilim but until they calm down, tell your Nephilim friends to back off. They are not welcome at the Hotel Dumort.”
Magnus tilted his head slightly in forced assent, lips half-curled into an amused smirk. When were the Nephilim welcome there in the first place?
“And you,” Raphael continued, grim. “Being friends with them earn you no favours. I can no longer offer you my place to stay.” The Spanish boy did a none-too-discreet once-over. “Though, you are still weak and in no condition to protect yourself for a while. Can you count on your Nephilim to protect you?”
“I need to find Jace.”
Alexander’s hand started trembling in his hold.
“Nothing. I… It seems more real, somehow, entering Jace’s room when he isn’t here.”
Parabatai and yet, old as he was, he knew there was something more there.
Magnus looked away. Maybe for a sweet moment after Alexander kissed him at the non-wedding and just before everything went to hell, he had the gall to forget he was unworthy – had the gall to feel the sweet bliss of believing Alexander may love him back just as much as Magnus always did when in love. Now, with the blondie gone… His non-answer was enough for Raphael.
“Dios. Why do you do this to yourself?” Raphael stepped forward. “Amigo –,”
With a dismissive wave, Magnus stopped the other. He dropped his glamour. “As I said before, I’m the High Warlock of Brooklyn. I’ll be fine.”
“Really, so that mixture of Downworlder blood you ingested before has no effect on you? Bueno.” Raphael bristled.
“I can sense a mix of Downworlder blood in him.”
Magnus wrinkled his brow at the echo his mind just conjured. When?
“Is he worth it?”
Magnus blinked, taken aback. In his mind, he saw the first time Alexander spoke to him with a smile so unguardedly happy as the boy stuttered his name. He smiled softly and despite everything he came to believe as fact throughout the many years he had lived, he replied with: “I hope so.”
Raphael reached out, squeezing Magnus’ arm for a brief second before letting go. Without another word, Raphael turned and retreated down the stairs, leaving Magnus to stare after him.
*~*~*~*
An hour later, Magnus was sat on his bed gazing dazedly at his closet. The array of branded clothing, colours and random tokens from countries he’d visited in the past mixing and blending into a hazy vision. An opened leather-appliqued quilted satin-shell travel trolley was at his feet waiting to be filled.
He had been contemplating on leaving. To possibly go stay at Ragnor’s for a while and grieve his friend’s death properly as he recuperated. And so what if he really just wanted to run away from everything that’d been happening? But then he was torn as he also wanted to stay, to soak up the days Alexander would still willingly be with him before they ultimately parted when what Magnus was finally became too much to tolerate.
Magnus tightened his grip on his phone, the screen dark. For the good past few minutes, Catarina had been texting him, explaining details she forgot to mention amidst lecturing him about Camille and in her haste to return to the hospital. Really, she should have been happy the bitch was gone from his life.
<<04:50 [Catarina, dear, why is Raphael saying I ingested blood?]
>>05:06 [You ingested different types of Downworlder blood at Camille’s. Tessa was watching over you when you started thrashing in your sleep. I didn’t sense it in you before then. I made you throw it all up. Don’t you remember any of that?]
<<05:15 [Vaguely.]
>>05:30 [Take it easy for a few days. I’ll check up on you when I can. Tessa will drop by again when she finds the time.]
<<05:35 [That’ll vary between a few days to weeks. Or maybe even months.]
>>06:00 [She’s taken a break from the Spiral Labyrinth.]
<<06:05 [Oh well, if that’s the case…]
>>06:20 [Don’t be snarky with me, Magnus.]
<<06:30 [Of course not, dear.]
>>06:40 [Don’t pretend you don’t forget about time much like the rest of us.]
>>06:41 [Do you even know how many days it’s been since Camille?]
<<06:45 [That’s hardly fair. I’ve been asleep.]
Magnus looked down at his phone when it vibrated to see the screen light up and a new message flash.
>>06:50 [It’s been two days.]
He scrunched his face in disgust at the state he was probably in – Alexander saw him like this? – then rubbed his forehead with his slim fingers, trying to will away his headache; vague memories had kept on coming in flashes, disorienting him.
His mind wandered back to the flames of fires that were presumably Camille and her fledgling.
If he had been of right mind back then, would he still have killed Camille? Would he have risked his position and the respect of the Downworlders to protect Alexander? Or would he have, perhaps, simply restrained Camille?
“And with her, you are a lost and broken puppy.”
No. It was foolish of him to even think he could have. Raphael had been right.
He should be glad he had been so out of it or Camille would have been able to subdue him with her poisonous words and touches. It was pathetic how affected he could be when it came to Camille; she was perfect in every way except when it came to love. How she destroyed him… Even then, he felt sad for her death on top of Ragnor’s. And at his own hands too.
Magnus looked down at his hands, blue sparks dancing along his palms.
Two immortal beings he knew well now dead.
“Shit!” Magnus stood up and, with a wave of his hand, his luggage rolled all the way to the back of his closet as it shut. This was not the time to second guess himself. He couldn’t leave New York City without a High Warlock no matter the opinion of his fellow Downworlders at the moment about his relations with the Nephilim. He didn’t gain his position by being a coward. He would face all his problems head on. Now more than ever with Valentine looming just around the corner, his people needed him and more than that, Alexander needed him.
Alexander…
Camille always did have shit timing.
From his (fortunately) ruined proposal up until the most recent mentioning of his immortality to Alexander and then… It was just like her to be so consistently shitty right up to her – yet another untimely – death.
DING!
Magnus perked up at the sound of his doorbell and raised a brow. His previous thoughts fled from his mind. “Who dares disturb the High Warlock of Brooklyn?” He called out magically.
“It’s Alec.”
Magnus felt his heart flutter in hope and warmth. Alexander had come by for him. He snapped his fingers and allowed the Shadowhunter in. He moved to his living room, settling for lounging on his couch with a Blue Hawaii martini in hand just as Alec barreled in, sweaty. “Did you run here?” He asked in amusement, raising a brow.
Alec looked startled as he took a seat on one of the couches. “No.” He passed a hand through his forehead and leaned away to stare at his glistening palm. “Uh, I came from training Clary.” He cleared his throat self-consciously. “You look… better.”
A jolt ran through Magnus’ body and it now occurred to him that he hadn’t looked at his appearance yet. Oh no. What did Catarina say?
It’s been two days.
No. It’d been two days. Two days. He must look horrid. Again.
Magnus discreetly turned his face away and snapped his fingers, creating a glamour to cover his whole body before turning back to Alec. “Now I do.” He smirked.
“That’s…” Alec paused and scratched his cheek. “Do you always get ready with magic?”
“On the rare occasions. Why?”
Alec nodded then a smile bloomed on his face. “I just thought, well, it would make sense if you did. I mean, you’re always – um, it must take a lot of time so…”
Magnus laughed. “I’m always what, Alexander?” Alec turned red and he grinned, waving off his question for another. “So, breakfast?”
“Oh.” Alec frowned. “I can’t stay. I need to go back to the Institute. We’re still searching for Jace.”
Magnus tried to keep his grin up and refused the urge to snap his fingers to make a glamour for that. Of course, the parabatai comes first but he must play nice if he wanted any time at all with the boy. “Alright, Alexander. How about tonight then?”
“You mean, dinner?”
Magnus tilted his head, pondering before answering. “Whatever time you’re free.”
Alec brightened. “I’ll come by after I do the patrol with Izzy and Clary.”
Unless there’s a lead on Jace, Magnus’ mind supplied helpfully. He briefly wondered when his thoughts had turned so dark that he failed to be as optimistic as he usually was. But he gave nothing away outwardly. He smirked and winked and purred, “Can’t wait.” And when the boy grinned back helplessly happy and shy, Magnus couldn’t help his heart from beating faster either.
*~*~*~*
How beautiful is it that someone could make your –
Heart beat so fast when you don’t want it to beat at all.