#malec coda

[goldenalec]

“This apartment is not important.”

Magnus digs his heels into the ground in an effort to steady himself before speaking again, “I have you and I have my magic. Truly, that’s enough.”

Alec looks at him, scanning every inch of Magnus for some betrayal of pain, of the incessant burning that’s been crawling under his skin ever since he returned from Lorenzo’s. Then his gaze drops to the ground.

Magnus thinks back to that first night Alec had spent in the loft. He remembers watching him in muted wonder, watching as the shackles of Alexander’s life slowly began to loosen, ever so slightly, as they talked late into the night. They’d sat engulfed by plush cushions, lit by soft light with the skyline of Manhattan glittering behind them beyond the great glass doors. Magnus remembers the smile on Alec’s face, wondrous to behold, appearing here and there almost as if Alec himself wasn’t aware of it. The endlessly endearing way his cheeks coloured whenever Magnus said something remotely flirty.

Then, he thinks back to the night Alec had turned to him, fire in his eyes.

“I don’t care how many people you’ve been with.” His voice had been steadfast, resolute, and without preamble. It was the first of many instances when Alec spoke to him as though there was a direct connection between his heart and his mouth. The kiss that had followed had been fire and morning sunshine, lightning and dew drops all at once. Magnus remembers blinking his eyes open and staring into Alec’s.

I’m all for effort.

Magnus had kept his promise in this loft. Between these walls, in these rooms, on this balcony, Magnus had found the man who would turn out to be the love of his life.  

Nights spent sitting across from him, watching him speak. Listening to the impossible softness of his voice, tinged with effervescent joy, imbued with his smile. Waking up to find him humming to himself in the kitchen, hair messy and a kind of looseness to his movements that spoke of the comfort he found in this place. Feeling his heart flutter more and more in his chest at every kiss, every touch, every adoring smile sent his way.

Magnus fell in love with Alec between these walls.

And now, they were no longer his.

No longer theirs.

[banesapothecary]

long enough to fake a smile - coda for the 3x15 promo

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“Did your sister make these pancakes?” Magnus mutters under his breath. He’s not as sly as he thinks, though, and Izzy glares across the table. “Or you?” he adds, directing a disdainful gaze that’s only halfway joking at Alec.

“Be nice,” Alec grumbles, nudging him in the shoulder. “The Institute isn’t exactly a five-star restaurant.”

“I see that,” Magnus says, holding up one of the stiff pancakes to examine it. The bacon is the only thing on the table that looks even remotely appetizing, though he’s suspicious of even that. “I guess I know where you and Isabelle got your cooking skills.”

Jace laughs across the table, the sound loud among the quiet severity of the other Shadowhunters in the cafeteria. “None of us stood a chance.”

“You get used to it,” Clary says next to him, her smile small and reassuring.

Magnus looks around the table again, at the less than ideal spread before them. “Is there even any fruit? Something tells me that’s the only safe thing to eat around here.”

“I think there are some apples in the kitchen, if you want some,” Alec says. “I can get them.”

“No,” Magnus says quickly before Alec can stand. “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure there’s something edible on this table.” He’s never felt like this in the Institute before, so out of place. Even before he and Alec were together, he’d never been afraid of what the Shadowhunters thought of him. But now their gazes feel different, like he’s a stranger invading their home. A foreigner.

In a way, he is. He doubts any warlocks have willingly lived in an Institute, at least not since Tessa.

But he also knows that it isn’t the Shadowhunters, even if some of them have been staring all morning like he’s on display at a zoo. He knows most of the Shadowhunters have accepted his place at the Institute by now, his place in their leader’s life.

No, it isn’t the Shadowhunters that are making him feel so out of place, out of his own skin. It’s the Institute. It’s the yellow magic and whatever it’s doing to him. It’s him.

“Besides,” he says, before Alec or any of their friends realize something is wrong. “I can simply do this now.” He waves his hand and in a flash of yellow that he can almost pretend is gold, a plate of fresh waffles and fruit appears in front of him with a flute of orange juice where his sad stack of pancakes had been a moment before.

Alec tsks, the sound teasingly judgemental but also apprehensive. Magnus knows Alec doesn’t trust Lorenzo’s gift--or Lorenzo--and for good reason, but he hopes Alec at least can understand why he had to do this. Something in Alec’s gaze had broken the night before when Magnus told him how empty he felt, how insignificant, without his magic.

Magnus doesn’t focus on it long, though, his ears suddenly ringing and his head pounding. He turns away slightly so the others won’t notice. It’s just a headache, he thinks, he hopes. I didn’t sleep well last night, that’s all.

He blinks, hard, and the ache subsides. He takes a bite of his waffle, turning to Alec with a smile.

Alec stares at him and it’s everything Magnus can do not to squirm under the weight of the gaze, the concern. “Your cat eyes are back,” Alec whispers.

Magnus’s hand goes to his eye instantly. “Oh,” he says, blinking and quickly putting up his glamour. “I suppose that’s the one thing I got used to with not having my magic,” Magnus says. It’s only a half-lie. He did get used to it. It’d been one of the few things that had given him solace whenever he felt truly lost or vulnerable. But he also knows he put up his glamour as soon as he got out of bed that morning, knows that it fell only seconds ago with the headache that had lasted only a few seconds.

Alec seems to accept his answer, his gaze softening into a smile. “You were right, by the way.”

“About what?” Magnus asks, eyebrow raised.

Alec leans closer, his words soft and breath warm against Magnus’s ear. “I did miss them.”

Everything is about to go to hell, Magnus knows. Maybe even literally. But for now, his smile is brighter than any shade of magic, and that’s enough for him.

“I did, too, Alexander. More than I ever thought I would.”

[itsdeanwinchester]

Magnus was mad. That was why he destroyed the lock. In half anger, half pain, he wanted to erase his memories of Alec forever.

But then Asmodeus said, “Anger runs in our blood, after all” and it reminded Magnus that he never wanted to be like his father. It reminded Magnus of how much Asmodeus used to nurture his darker impulses.

Anger once brought him to kill his step-father and it made him hurt Lorenzo. Magnus hadn’t forgotten the things he did for his father--with his father.

Magnus won’t let anger rule his heart anymore. Instead, he lets love in. He knows about the deal Alec made but it doesn’t matter. He understands and he chooses love, chooses to cherish every moment he has with the one he loves.

[magnusbaneandthegodsofasgard]

where are all of my post 2x20 malec fics where magnus and alec go back to the loft and chill cause magnus mostly drained his magic? where are they??!! where?!!!???!

[caringmalec]

I Don’t Think I Can Live Without You

When Alec got to the door of Magnus’ loft, cider buzzing deliciously in his stomach, the neon glow from the alley outside the Hunter’s Moon still lit behind his eyes, something in his mind, his heart, his lungs, was waiting, cresting. The last time he had been here, he had paced outside the door until he’d been sure he’d worn a pit into Magnus’ welcome mat. The last time he’d been here, he’d had to watch Magnus’ glamoured, guarded eyes roll away from him, focusing on anything but his face. As he stepped over the threshold, the thing that had been building finally crashed over him, and he felt relief, and warmth, and a sense of belonging like he had never known, not under the institute’s cold lights and watchful stare. He stopped for a second just inside the doorway, closing his eyes and breathing in the smells: sandalwood, champagne, the musk of books older than Alec, and was that… yes, the incense he’d bought for Magnus on mission in Chinatown. He breathed out a sigh, and felt Magnus shift to face him.

“What is it, Alexander?” asked Magnus, and though Alec still had his eyes shut, he knew the expression Magnus must be wearing, his eyebrows pulled together, eyes searching Alec’s face for any sign of distress. Alexander. A name he’d never realized the beauty of until it passed through Magnus’ magical lips, until he’d been craving to hear it said just one more time. Alec smiled despite himself.

He finally opened his eyes. “It’s nothing, it’s just… can I…?” he grabbed Magnus’ other hand, tugging him closer. Magnus’ brows pulled apart again, and his expression smoothed. He looked upon Alec with a softness Alec never thought he’d have the good fortune to see from anyone he truly cared for, let alone one so caring, kind, giving, breathtaking, beautiful. In the low lamp light, the hair on Magnus’ chin so close that Alec could almost feel it, Alec was overwhelmed with every emotion he hadn’t had time to feel during the day’s long events. Relief at seeing Magnus, worry for the mundanes with the demons, terror over losing the people he loved. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He didn’t know how he could convey to Magnus the pure gratitude and joy he felt just being allowed to step back inside this beautiful loft. He did the only thing he could think clearly enough to do.

His eyes flitted back and forth between Magnus’ as he ducked his head closer, wanting to map them the way they were now, open, soft, loving. He would never truly deserve the love Magnus gave him. When his lips finally met Magnus’, his thoughts gave way to a wave of hunger, a sense of breathlessness whose only remedy was to breathe in more of Magnus. He craved only to be closer to him, to feel Magnus' nose pressed into Alec’s own cheek, to trace every tooth, every taste bud, every crack in Magnus’ lips.

His hand traveled up to frame Magnus’ ear, his fingers pressing into the back of Magnus’ head, where his short hair met his neck. Alec’s eyebrows pulled together, determined as always, ever the soldier, intent on his solitary goal, to inhale every breath Magnus was able to get out. He kissed the corner of Magnus’ mouth, his chin, his jawline, down his neck, to his protruding adam’s apple, with every kiss stepping forward, pushing Magnus further towards the wall, until he heard the backs of Magnus’ shoes hit the baseboards.

“By the Angel, I’ve missed you,” Alec murmured between kisses, pausing only long enough to say those words before finding new places to whisper his love into Magnus’ skin. “I love you,” he said, placing another kiss, “I’ve missed you,” another, “I love you I love you I love you.”

“My darling,” breathed Magnus, hands sliding up from the small of Alec’s back to hold his face firmly, “my beautiful Nephilim. I love you more than I think I can bear.”

Alec smiled his radiant smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, cheeks dimpling, and Magnus thought, there, there is the reason why I know I am on this Earth to do good, if only to do so for this one beautiful man.

Magnus looked up to the heavens and his hands dropped devilishly low as Alec lowered his lips again to the side of Magnus’s face, teeth and tongue trailing downward, leaving marks and a glimmering trail in his wake. Magnus looked up to the Heavens and he thanked the angel that the shadowhunters spoke so fondly of, he thanked Raziel for making his beautiful children, no matter the trouble they’d caused him, just because it meant he had this beautiful man within his grasp.

Magnus brought his hand up to cup Alec’s neck, bringing Alec’s lips to meet his own. “I love you so much, my dear,” he whispered, brushing Alec’s lips with his own. “I can’t remember how I lived before I met you.”

“I don’t want to,” breathed Alec, resting his forehead against Magnus’. “I don’t want to ever have to come close to imagining my life without you. Never. Not again.”

“Nor I, my darling,” Magnus said, staring into his Alexander’s hazel eyes, feeling his own lose their grasp on their glamour. He was close enough to watch Alec’s pupils blow wide, and he smiled.

“Shall we?” asked Magnus, inclining his head towards the open door of his bedroom.

Alec responded by capturing Magnus’ lips between his own, tasting the question on his tongue. “There is nothing in this world I would rather do,” he finally responded, breathless, dizzy, full of every emotion he never thought would be his to experience.

The night was filled with laughter, and joy, and comfort, and both men wondered how they could have ever given this up, even for a second.

[banesapothecary]

never believe it’s not so (it’s magic, you know) - coda for 3x14

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The Institute is strange to wake up in. He shouldn’t feel as out of place as he does. After all, he’s stayed the night in Alec’s room once or twice before when they’d both been exhausted and hadn’t wanted to walk or been too tired for a portal. Other times, they simply hadn’t wanted to move from their place on Alec’s bed and fallen asleep without meaning to.

This morning is different, though, Magnus knows. This morning is different because, at least for now, it’s permanent. He can’t get out of bed and whisk them both back to the loft for a private breakfast and the comfort of home.

There is something he can do, though.

He shifts, raising his hand to examine it. The magic feels different, looks different, but god it’s enough. He snaps his fingers, watching the wisps of yellow rise at his fingertips. Yellow. He’d once mocked Lorenzo’s sickly colored magic to Catarina. (“It’s absolutely putrid,” he’d groaned.)

This yellow isn’t the blue he’s always associated with his own magic, with himself. It isn’t the blue that’s always felt a little bit like home, even when he was just a terrified boy who could do nothing but hate what he was.

He shakes his head, refocusing his gaze on the magic. The blue is gone, he tells himself. But my magic isn’t. Not anymore.

He sits up, leaning back against the headboard as he continues to stare. It’s mine again, he thinks as he directs the magic at himself, feeling his familiar armor of eyeliner and styled hair appear perfectly. No more struggling in front of the vanity every morning to feel like even an ounce of himself. No more rushing around the Institute and New York in an attempt to distract himself from how empty he felt inside, because he isn’t. Not anymore.

The drop of blood is as sudden as the night before. It stains the sheet pulled around his waist and he stares, the red vibrant and real and the last thing Magnus wants to see right now.

He just got his magic back goddamn it. He will not--he could not--go through that again. Not today. Maybe not ever.

Beside him, Alec stirs. Magnus jumps from the bed, sending a quick burst of magic to remove the spot of blood as he disappears into Alec’s bathroom.

Maybe it was nothing, maybe it would go away in a matter of days. Maybe he could hold onto this feeling.

But looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, at the trail of blood under his nose, Magnus knows. This can’t last. It won’t. He just hopes he’ll be strong enough to face it, even though he knows he isn’t. No one is.

[banesapothecary]

remember me as I was (not as I am) - 3x11 coda

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I don’t know who I am anymore.

Magnus wants to scream it, wants to feel the words tear through the quiet of the loft and shatter the white noise of the city into millions of irreparable pieces. The thought has been a constant fear, a steady slice, tormenting him since he returned from Edom without his magic.

He thought it would hurt, when his father took his magic. He thought it would feel like a limb being torn from his body, or blood pouring from wounds inflicted in battle, or being skinned alive until he was nothing but muscle and blood and bone.

He never expected to feel nothing at all.

That’s what I am now, he thinks bitterly. Nothing.

No thrum of magic just beneath his skin, comforting and reassuring as an old friend. No insistent buzz waiting to be let loose in a show of power. No red, angry sparks ready to attack his enemies and protect those he loves.

Magnus has survived centuries, has led countless lives, but none have ever been like this. Never has Magnus felt so utterly lost and useless.

“I can’t protect Madzie, let alone give her a nightlight,” he mutters angrily to himself. He’s been sitting on the floor in the apothecary for who knows how long, hiding away as soon as Catarina had collected Madzie and taken her to the High Warlock of Estonia’s protection.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Magnus jumps at the voice, though really he should’ve expected Alec to come looking for him sooner or later. He’s standing in the doorway, brow furrowed in a way that would be adorable if the underlying concern there didn’t make Magnus’s heart ache.

“Sorry,” Alec frowns. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. If you want to be alone, I’ll—”

“No, it’s alright, Alexander,” Magnus says, tapping the floor next to him lightly in invitation. Alec takes it immediately, resting his hand on the ground next to Magnus’s, palm up. Magnus stares at it for a minute before curling his own around Alec’s, their fingers weaving together.

They sit in silence, the weight of the evening and everything left unsaid settling over them both.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Alec says, his voice low and quiet and steady. “None of this is.”

“I couldn’t protect her, Alexander,” Magnus says, and he winces when the words come out sharper than he meant them. Alec doesn’t flinch, though. Instead, his thumb ghosts up and down Magnus’s, the motion grounding. Magnus breathes for a moment, closing his eyes. “I tried to stop Iris, but I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop her.” The words are defeated and Magnus wants to laugh. If only Asmodeus could see him now:  the great Magnus Bane, former High Warlock of Brooklyn, the defiant son he so desperately wanted to control, defeated.

He supposes that was his father’s point in all this, in claiming the one thing that’s always been a part of him. The one thing he’s learned to trust more than he’s trusted people, in most cases.

“You did, though,” Alec says after another moment has passed. “Maybe it wasn’t with magic, but you did stop her. You distracted her, and Madzie got to you. That was enough.”

“Tonight, perhaps,” Magnus mutters, the words bitter on his tongue. “But distraction isn’t enough. I’m not enough. Not anymore.”

“That isn’t true,” Alec says immediately, his voice fierce and sure.

Magnus wishes he could believe him, wishes his magic was still strumming through his veins, wishes he was still strong enough to protect the people he loves. I’m not the man you fell in love with anymore, he wants to yell. Gone is Magnus, the all-powerful High Warlock of Brooklyn capable of taking on princes of hell. Now he’s just broken and lost and weak.

“Losing your magic doesn’t make you weak, you know,” Alec continues as if reading his mind, and Magnus turns to him in shock. “You’re still the strongest person I know.”

Magnus shakes his head, partly in disagreement and partly dumbfounded by the unadulterated way in which Alec Lightwood loves him. “It sure doesn’t feel like it,” he whispers.

Alec leans closer, bumping their shoulders together. “That’s because you aren’t used to this, yet, but I know you. You once told me I’d blow up the very ground to make things right, and maybe that’s true, but I think it’s more true for you.”

Magnus makes a noise of protest, not trusting his own voice when his throat feels tight and raw.

“You’ll figure this out, and I’ll be right there with you.” Alec’s hand tightens around his and it’s the safest Magnus has felt since he returned from Edom, but he can’t bring himself to squeeze back. Instead, he lets himself lean closer, his head dropping on Alec’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am anymore.” The confession is quiet and he feels Alec tense slightly before he presses a kiss into Magnus’s hair.

“Everyone gets lost sometimes. It doesn’t make you weak,” Alec says softly.

“What does it make me then?” Again, his words have come out harsher than he intended, a snap that Alec doesn’t deserve. Again, Alec doesn’t flinch. He slides his hand from Magnus’s and winds it around his back instead, his hand warm against Magnus’s tense muscles.

“Human,” he answers simply. “You always have been, you just aren’t used to relying on that part of you.”

Magnus knows it’s true, knows on some level this should make him feel better, knows that somehow, someday, he’ll be used to it and mostly okay. But right now, he doesn’t know what to feel. “I don’t know how to be anything other than who I was, Alexander.” The words are a choked whisper. He swallows, tastes salt as a teardrop reaches his lips. Oh, he thinks, as he wipes a hand roughly across his cheek and feels the tear tracks there.

Alec laughs, but the sound is humorless. Pained, almost. The knife already embedded in Magnus’s heart twists. “You’re still that person. You’re still you.”

“But—”

“Your magic is gone, but you are still Magnus Bane.” Alec’s voice is hard, but not angry, like he’s trying to block out any doubt in Magnus’s mind, any argument.

“I don’t know who that is without magic,” Magnus whispers anyways because he needs Alec to understand, needs to understand himself.

Alec shifts away from him, turning Magnus’s gaze towards him with a hand cupped to his cheek. “I know him. He’s brave and self-sacrificing if it means he can protect the people he loves, regardless of the consequences.” His thumb brushes along Magnus’s cheek, and Magnus feels a streak of wet following in its wake. “He’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s lived through centuries of love and heartbreak, pain and betrayal, and yet he still opened his heart up—to a Shadowhunter, of all people, even though he had every reason not to trust me with his heart.”

“Alexander—” Magnus starts, his throat tight and choking. He swallows.

“He’s caring and thoughtful and so full of love—for me, for Madzie, for every single one of your friends.” Alec leans closer, presses a kiss to Magnus’s tearstained cheek. “And he’s smart, so incredibly smart and I could listen to him talk about absolutely anything for the rest of my life. He’s—”

“Alexander, please,” Magnus interrupts. He’s not sure he quite believes Alec’s words, but his heart wants to, so badly. Between the tightness in his throat and chest, Magnus doesn’t know how he’s still breathing. No, that’s not true, he thinks. Breathing always comes just a bit easier when he’s looking at Alexander. “Thank you, but I…” he trails off. The rest of the sentence echoes in his mind, like it’s bouncing off the walls in his head:  I want to believe you, but I can’t, not yet.

Alec seems to hear them, too. He shrugs, a small, teasing smile on his lips, but his eyes still serious. “Don’t take my word for it,” he says softly. “You’ll find out for yourself.”

His sureness is a balm, even if Magnus can’t share it himself. It’s almost religious, Alec’s belief in him. Magnus has never been one for prayer, but without thinking he’s sending a silent prayer to the gods above that he might even be an ounce of the man Alec believes him to be, that he might be worthy of Alec’s love.

“How?” Magnus asks.

Alec’s eyes light up, just a bit. Magnus recognizes the gleam:  the one he gets when faced with a challenge. “We have a rogue warlock to catch,” he says. “And you know more about Iris and where she might go than any of the rest of us.” Alec stands, stretching a hand down to Magnus. “Come on.”

Magnus stares up at him, his eyes wide and still full of tears, but drying. I can still do this, he thinks. He hopes.

He takes Alec’s hand.

[itsdeanwinchester]

3.18 malec coda - magnus’s POV

Camille once said to him, “The fear of loneliness has always been your Achilles’ heel. You don’t do well losing those you love, do you?”

Her words came to him after Alec left and the universe felt unusually cruel tonight. Not only had he lost everything, now, he had lost Alec. His rock. The one person that gave Magnus reason to be happy despite his horrible situation. Having Alec by his side had helped subsided the pain and grief over his magic. It had made life easier to bear, but now, there was such a gaping hole inside Magnus’s chest.

He stood frozen for at least another five minutes before he forced his legs to move, forced his arms to finish decorating for Maryse. A sob threatened to crawl out of his mouth and he gasped, breathing shakily, remembering Maryse’s kind words.

“Magnus, it’s not a burden. In time of crisis, the people we love want to help...we are all here for you, Magnus. You’re part of the family.”

Her gentle touch on his shoulder and her genuine concern reminded Magnus of the thing he knew he always desired: family. It was all he ever wanted since the day of his mother’s suicide, the death of his step-father, since finding out Asmodeus’s true wicked self. He had no family and could not bear children, so he friended many fellow warlocks and became a surrogate father for downworlders, took on those who needed someone--like Raphael--and they became his children.

And now, he wasn’t even a downworlder anymore. He was a mundane. His connection to them--severed.

And the love of his life had walked out, unable to deal with him.

Magnus chuckled, quiet at first, before it became louder and morphed into a full blown laugh. He laughed, falling down onto the ground, leaning against a wall, and laughed until he was breathless. Tears streamed down his face.

He was truly alone.

And he was thinking about Camille’s words again because she was the last person to hurt him like this, to hold his heart and crush it completely. Camille, at least, Magnus knew of her nature and, in hindsight, saw it coming.

Alec was a different story. Alec, a nephilim who loved fiercely, who trusted him inherently, who made Magnus believed in deep, profound, perhaps even true love. Alec, who surprised him over and over again with his strength and overflowing feelings, his declarations of love, of complete faith and trust of Magnus. It was Alec who looked at him unflinchingly while Magnus revealed his ugly past. It was Alec who allowed him to be vulnerable.

Camille’s smirk played in Magnus’s mind: “You wouldn’t know what to do with love if you found it.”

He stared at the candlelights, their light soft all around the room.

Camille was wrong. He had tried his best for this love. He knew relationships took effort.

When Alec said those hurtful words--“days ago, I didn’t know the spark inside of you, the one I loved, was out for good”--Magnus still reached out for him, seeking reconciliation, seeking Alec’s humor and smile, seeking Alec’s beautiful eyes. He had tried so hard, rambling out his fears and ultimately prayed for Alec to stay. “Stay with me.”

But Alec wouldn’t even look at him and he still walked out. Love blew up in his face.

Magnus can’t bring himself to look at the door.

Family.

Alec.

The pain doubled, if possible, as Magnus struggled to breathe and tears continued to fall, mourning what could’ve been with Alec.

“You don’t do well losing those you love, do you?”

Magnus thought he was used to this feeling--being immortal and losing loved ones to old age or war or something tragic--but now he was mortal and loved ones were walking out of his life still. The problem wasn’t his immortality and outliving them; it was him. Alec left him because Alec couldn’t deal with him.

Magnus was losing breath. His head was swirling. His chest was collapsing because he can’t breathe.  At this rate, he would truly die.

He needed to get out of here away from this place, away from New York, but he couldn’t bear to head back to the Institute to get his things or grab his passport. He needed to leave immediately.

Quickly, he rose up, staggering toward the door, barely remembering to lock it up. His hands shook, the keys jangling.

He would ask Catarina to send him off and also return the keys to Maryse.

And later, when Catarina asks if he’s okay, he will do what he always do: deflect and smile, because Catarina shouldn’t have to deal with his baggage. And when she opens a portal for him with a concerned face, he will make a joke and promise he’s fine, everything’s fine.

And after grief remains while he walks around cities, memories of Alec surfacing everywhere he goes, he will call on brother Zachariah. He will realize he is wrong for thinking he could survive heartbreak. He may have survived before, but this--this was agonizing, unbearable pain and he will die, will break permanently this time if he doesn’t do something about it.

He will call brother Zachariah and tell him to erase all his memories of Alec, everything they’ve been through, and he will return to who he was before he met Alec: a man with his heart closed forever.