It was dark. By now Magnus and Alec would be wrapped in the safety of Magnus’ silk sheets, tucked away from the world; the smell of sandalwood hanging in the air after a shared shower. But right now, the dark alley wrapped around them and they were tucked in the thought of death and fear.
The fresh smell of blood hung in the air, equally shared pain between the two lovers. The thought of death ripping them away from each other constricting and pulling roughly at their heartstrings.
The sound of ragged breaths, hands gripping desperately was all they clung to. The reassurance that Alec was still here, both lovers absolutely helpless in this precarious situation.
Alec’s lungs were burning, he ached and withered in pain. Wincing but not because of the arrow piercing his chest, but at the thought of Magnus being alone. The warlock had suffered enough loss and pain and Alec Lightwood had made a promise. He had promised that he wasn’t going anywhere.
Alec reluctantly forced his eyes open, clinging to Magnus as if he was the only thing keeping him alive, “Magnus…” he wheezed, before spluttering blood and releasing another groan of pain.
Magnus shook his head quickly, his pain-filled eyes too afraid to leave Alec for even a second, “Just stay with me,” he repeated quickly, the fear evident in his shaking voice, “Don’t talk, don’t waste your strength,”
“Magnus I-“
“No! Alexander, we’re not doing this!” Magnus cut him off, raising his voice desperately. He was completely useless. Magnus gripped Alec tightly as if trying to hold him away from the clutch of death, “You’re going to be okay, I called Catarina you’re going to be fine,” Magnus spoke more to himself, as if he needed the reassurance that Alec is not falling into the inevitable process of death just yet.
A few seconds passed. Alec’s pale fingers gripping tighter on Magnus’ scarlet-stained jacket; ragged breaths getting shorter and laboured as if the arrow found itself deeper in his chest. Magnus was crying, tears running freely down his cheeks. He didn’t seem to notice.
“I love you,” Alec whimpered, gritting his teeth out of frustration, “Magnus… I’m scared,”
Magnus observed him helplessly as if looking at his face for the first time. Alec was a stranger and it was breaking his heart.
“Magnus…” Alec wheezed, his voice scratchy and weak as if his body was protesting not to speak, “Shadowhunters aren’t meant to be afraid of death,”
Magnus finally met his eyes. Magnus’ eyes were filled with something else that Alec couldn’t work out. It scared him. Finally, Magnus spoke his words coming out as a hushed whisper.
“Everyone is afraid of death.”
Magnus risked a hand leaving Alec’s, pushing the sweaty hair from Alec’s forehead and resting it on his cheek fondly. And Alec’s eyes widen in the realisation that Magnus was also afraid of death. Not the warlock himself’s death but of the thought without Alec here.
And Alec’s mind wondered back to Magnus’ loft, his home and safety. The familiarity of the thought putting him at ease. He could almost imagine himself sinking in the Warlock’s mattress. Legs tangled and hair spread out messily against the soft pillows. He could feel the warmth of Magnus next to him, the sun rays favourably lightening up his beautiful boyfriend’s face.
Magnus was still beautiful now, leaning as close as possible to Alec protectively. Fear and devastation threatening to tear him apart.
Finally, Alec felt a warmth come over him. His eyelids shutting carefully as he drew out a final breath. The coldness leaving his lungs as the blood continues to seep around his own arrow. And then Alec Lightwood was gone, his last thought Magnus Bane who was repeating his name in a panicked whisper. And maybe, just maybe, a part of Magnus died too.
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