“Magnus hoped if he ever went mad like that himself, so mad that he poisoned the very air around him and hurt everyone he came into contact with, that there would be someone who loved him enough to stop him. To kill him, if it came to that."
Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood (Thule)
@elettralightwood made me do this ksksk
tag list: @ahanahahaha @anarchistbitch @khaleesiofalicante @romas-dorogaya @lantsovs-emerald @noah-herondale-lightwood @wtf-is-reality @sociallyineptbibliophile (let me know if anyone wants to be added or removed)
A/N: *pulls on protective gear, my anti-chappal helmet, and hides in a nuclear bunker*
//Tw: Blood, MCD
***
The city of New York never looked grayer.
The curtains of the apartment above were rustling, just loud enough for Alec’s enhanced hearing to pick up the sounds. That apartment had been abandoned several days ago when the demons invaded. The only house occupied in the Brooklyn Brownstone was Magnus’s, having been warded by Magnus’s own magic.
But even these wards were weakening now. Once Magnus turned - or died, whichever came first - they would be completely gone, leaving Alec exposed to the hoards of Endarkened and demons roaming New York.
There were only two ways Alec’s life could go after that. He’d fall victim to the demons and die. Or he’d be found by the Endarkened and be tortured for information before he was turned into one of them. The second option was looking more and more likely these days - the Endarkened were on the hunt for rogue Shadowhunters and resistances, and Alec would be their key for finding more.
Magnus had told him to leave while the wards were still up, while his protection and undetection spells would still hold, and find safety. Several times. Alec had refused every single time, unwilling to leave Magnus. Not when the world was like this, and especially not in his state.
“Alexander?”
Alec turned around at Magnus’s voice, which was weak and raspy and so low that Alec almost didn’t hear him. Magnus was lying back in bed, his back propped up by a few pillows, a thick blanket covering most of his body. His cheekbones were more prominent than ever, drawing a twinge of worry out of Alec’s heart.
Magnus’s health had declined rapidly over the last two months, ever since Sebastian Morgenstern shut down the wards and opened the world to other demonic dimensions. He grew weaker and weaker everyday, his body constantly trembling at even the slightest hint of a breeze. He was losing weight and strength and even the hope in his eyes, wasting away as the days passed by. Even his magic grew weaker, to the point where Magnus had to shrink down their apartment to the one-room living space that it was now so he could hold up the wards without compromising their strength.
And then came the news a few days ago. A few warlocks suffering from the disease that had taken over had now turned into demons. It went unsaid that the rest would follow.
When Magnus realised it, he’d looked at Alec, a strange sort of desperation in his eyes, and said, “I can’t- I can’t let myself become something like that.”
“You’ll have to kill me, Alexander.”
The words had landed like a whip across Alec’s heart that day. They still did.
Magnus looked at him with that same look in his eyes now.
“Alexander,” he said again. “How much longer before…”
Magnus’s voice trailed off into the stale Brooklyn air. He didn’t have to speak any more. The question he wanted to ask hung between them like a phantom.
When are you going to kill me?
Alec’s hand tightened on the windowsill.
“We should wait a little longer,” he said quietly. “Just a few more days. How long do you think you can hold out?”
A shadow passed across Magnus’s face. “I don’t want to wait until I’m transforming into a demon, Alec.”
“We don’t have to wait that long,” Alec assured quickly. “Just a couple of days more, I promise.”
“I just-“ Magnus turned away, coughing into his shoulder. Alec was halfway out of his seat, but Magnus waved him off, his cough subsiding. “I just don’t see why we have to wait.”
“I just need more time,” Alec said quietly, leaning back into his seat.
He didn’t need time to prepare himself. He just wanted more time with Magnus.
He knew why Magnus wanted to rush this. He thought of how he might be turned into an Endarkened someday, and his heart blanched, and he knew Magnus felt the same way about his own predicament. He understood.
But… he didn’t want to look into Magnus’s eyes and know that he was the one delivering his love’s death.
He understood why Magnus wanted to die before that day ever came. Sometimes, Alec wanted to die, himself. (He’d voiced that sentiment out loud to Magnus, only once. Magnus had vehemently shut it down.)
But Alec couldn’t lose Magnus. Not yet. He wanted to wring out all the time he could get. He knew he was being selfish, but…
Sometimes, he just wished they had more time.
But time had always been against them, hadn’t it? They had been given maybe seventy years out of the hundreds of Magnus’s life span, now cut down to seventy days. Magnus would die soon. And Alec…
He didn’t know what would happen to himself.
“Time for what?” Magnus asked, a note of snark to his voice. “I’m not exactly getting younger and healthier here, Alexander.” He looked at Alec again, that look of desperation in his eyes again. “Why can’t we just do it now? Kill me. Just get it over with.”
Alec blanched. “Now? But-“
Magnus frowned. “But what?”
“Magnus, you’re asking me to kill you,” Alec replied, his breath quickening the slightest bit. “I can’t- I need some more time-“
“Damn it, Alec!” Magnus yelled. “You had no problem with that when you were trying to turn me mortal, didn’t you?!”
A terrible silence fell across the room.
Magnus was breathing hard, his pale cheeks botched with red. He slumped back into the cushions, closing his eyes, exhausting hitting him after his outburst wore off.
Alec could only stare at him. Magnus had closed his eyes, a deep crease between his eyebrows.
“What?” Alec whispered at last. “Magnus, what?”
Alec remembered the days before the Battle of Burren, before all their lives and the world had changed for the worst. Remembered the subway tunnels and Camille Belcourt’s cold, pale face. Remembered his mistakes and the moments during the battle itself when he’d thought Magnus was dead. He remembered realising that between Magnus dying before Alec, and Alec dying someday, he much preferred the second.
He had never contacted Camille after that.
Not that he had an opportunity to do so, anyway.
He had never explained any of it to Magnus, either. He couldn’t bring himself to. Especially not since the illness took over him.
But it looked like Camille beat him to it, anyway.
“Forget it,” Magnus rasped, turning away. There was pain etched in every line of his face. “Forget I said anything.”
“How do you-“
“Camille sent me a very informative letter,” Magnus whispered, his eyes fluttering open. “I shouldn’t trust her, and I don’t, but… it all matched. Your strange behaviour, all the times you disappeared off to somewhere and didn’t tell me where you’d been. I didn’t want to believe it, but…”
“How long did you know?” Alec asked, his voice soft.
Magnus’s face darkened. “Since Clary’s funeral.”
It had been nearly two months since then.
If Alec hadn’t been sitting, he would have collapsed to the ground.
“You knew? All this time, you knew?” Alec’s breathing turned a little harsher. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“What was I supposed to say?” Magnus said softy. “‘Hey, I know you were gossiping with my ex behind my back and conspired to make me mortal, so we should break up. Nevermind that we’re in the middle of the apocalypse’?”
“You were going to leave me.” It was not a question.
“In better circumstances, I would have,” Magnus replied.
Something broke inside Alec.
“Why didn’t you atleast say something? Why did you keep it all to yourself?” Alec’s voice turned low, almost despairing. “You never tell me anything.”
“It doesn’t matter now, I suppose,” Magnus said. “You’re getting what you wanted, anyway.”
“Magnus!” Alec chastised. He felt raw at this point, as if someone had whipped him over and over again.
“Not like this,” Alec said, his lips trembling. “I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this to happen.”
The room fell silent again. Magnus stared up at the ceiling. Alec stared at him.
“I never wanted any of this, either,” Magnus said quietly. “Have you ever considered that, Alexander?”
Alec blinked at him, unsure where this was headed. “No one wants to see their entire life crumble before their eyes.”
“Would you have asked me?” Magnus asked again. “If you’d gone through with it… would you have asked me first?”
Alec swallowed.
“We were going to make you think Camille did it out of revenge,” he admitted quietly.
Magnus’s face closed off. “So you weren’t going to ask me.”
“Magnus-“
“Did you ever even think about what I wanted?” Magnus asked.
“I’m sorry,” Alec said. He could feel the tears running down his face now, turning his vision blurry.
Magnus shook his head. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have brought this up.”
Alec fell silent. What could he even say to that?
What could he even say anymore?
Alec bowed his head.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Alec had never said it out loud. Not like these, not these three words in this exact order.
But maybe it was too late to say them now.
Magnus took in a shuddering breath. “Then why?”
Alec looked at him sharply. How could he even begin to answer that?
Why did you do all that, then?
“You say you love me, then why?” Magnus looked at him, finally, and Alec almost reeled away when he saw the tears pooling in Magnus’s eyes. “Why won’t you kill me, Alexander? Why won’t you end my misery? Why?”
It took a few moments for Alec to process those words.
“I thought we were talking about what I did?” he asked quietly when he finally did process them.
“I told you, it doesn’t matter anymore,” Magnus said quietly. “You wanted a solution to the whole immortality problem, and you have it.”
Alec flinched.
“And I-“ Magnus chuckled dryly. “I was going to die someday, anyway. I’d rather it be now.”
Alec stared at him. “Magnus… do you want to die?”
Magnus’s face fell. He looked exhausted, but not physically. This was a bone-deep tiredness, from all the running, all the hiding, the pain from the past two months alone.
“What do you want, Magnus?” Alec asked in a low voice. Was it too late for this? Was it too late for any of this?
“Ask me what I don’t want, Alexander,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to be mortal. I don’t want to turn into a demon. I just-“ Magnus’s face crumbled, and a few stray drops ran down his cheeks. Alec wanted to run to him, wanted to wipe those tears away, but he couldn’t move.
“I just want this pain to end,” Magnus admitted, curling into himself, a sob breaking through his throat. “Please.”
Alec’s throat felt tight. He swallowed through it all and stood up, the shortsword in his thigh holster growing heavier with every step he took forward.
He sat at the edge of the bed, reaching out with one careful hand to wipe Magnus’s tears away.
“Do you want to stand up?” Alec asked. He didn’t have to ask why.
Magnus looked at him for a long moment, and then nodded. Alec helped him up, one arm clasped strongly around Magnus’s waist. Magnus was leaning on him heavily, his arms resting around Alec’s shoulders. Alec led them to the middle of the room, taking slow, careful steps. If he closed his eyes and ignored the way he could feel every bony bump of Magnus’s spine, he could’ve pretended they were dancing.
He didn’t know what he was supposed to say now.
Do you think, in another world…?
No.
Magnus had said it himself. He would’ve left if things were better.
They weren’t meant to be, in any world.
Do you still love me?
Do you hate me?
Why did you stay?
Before Alec could say anything, however, Magnus spoke up.
“You know where the resistance base is, right?”
“Of course I do,” Alec said.
“When… this is over. Go there. Be careful, Alexander.” Magnus’s breath shuddered. “Live on. For me.”
Alec’s throat tightened. He didn’t know if he could promise him that.
“I love you,” he said instead, carefully pulling his sword out from its holster.
Magnus trembled, and stepped back, just enough to look at Alec.
“I don’t know if you believe me,” Alec said quietly. “Not after everything. But…” he couldn’t look Magnus in the eye. He couldn’t. His grip tightened on the sword. “If this is the only way to make you believe...”
The sword cut through Magnus easily, diving straight into his heart. Magnus let out a tiny gasp, and that was all.
Alec dared to meet Magnus’s eyes, but there was nothing. Nothing except for the glossy sheen from the tears he had shed earlier, the slightest hint of pain from having been stabbed, the tautness of his facade slipped firmly into place.
Don’t do that, Alec wanted to plead with him. Let me see you. At least in your last few moments, let me see you.
But the words wouldn’t come to his lips.
The sword came out easier than it went in, and Magnus stumbled against Alec. Alec caught him easily, holding him up. He could feel Magnus’s lips moving against his shoulder, the words too low to make out. They could’ve been anything.
Thank you?
I love you?
He wanted to hope, but hope stayed out of reach.
Alec stood there, staring ahead at the bed where Magnus had been lying minutes earlier, feeling utterly empty. He didn’t notice Magnus slipping from his arms until he hit the ground with a thud that pulled Alec out of his reverie.
He looked down and stared, his breathing the only sound left in the apartment.
There was blood everywhere. On his clothes, his arms, on Magnus - coating his chest and abdomen and pooling around him in a thick puddle.
A sob tore itself out of Alec’s throat. He knelt, knees hitting the puddle of blood, and hefted his sword once more.
Live on, Magnus had said, but what for?
The world was dying. Alec’s home had been destroyed and his family shattered. There was only pain awaiting him. And Magnus…
Alec had lost him, in all the ways that mattered.
“I’m sorry,” Alec sobbed, thick teardrops rolling down his cheeks as he looked over at Magnus. “I’m so sorry.”
He drove the sword through himself, twisting just the slightest bit to let the blood flow out. Even as he reached for Magnus, he could hardly feel the pain.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Alec pulled Magnus into his arms, supporting his weight on his thighs, fingers slipping on his body until he caught a firm hold of him. He held Magnus close to his chest, cradling him, and pressed his trembling lips against Magnus’s hair.
He knelt for a long, long time, the wards around him cracking bit by bit. He knelt and held Magnus until the wards finally fell, until his throat ran dry, until “I’m sorry” turned into “I love you” and “I love you” turned into a stream of “Magnus, Magnus, Magnus”. Until there was no more blood trickling out of him and he finally keeled over, hitting the ground, his eyes staring away into nothingness.
Alec’s arms were still curled tight around Magnus.
This is how it starts—the day that changed everything.
Magnus’ shoulders sag as he chases after Alec—always chasing after this stupid, beautiful man, he thinks, with a weary smile that never quite reaches his eyes.
The hallowed walls of the former New York Institute stretch up on either side of him, still impressive and imposing, despite the ruin they now stood within. It had been foolish of them to think that they could have won, that they could have even survived…after everything they’d lost? This world belonged to Sebastian now; there was really no sense in denying it at this point. They may have outrun it for a time, seeking refuge here in New York for a little while but really, hadn’t they just been avoiding the inevitable?
Foolish, indeed.
Magnus’ hurried steps echo off cracked stonewalls as he follows after Alec, who was purposely putting distance between them—making the Warlock work for it. He wants to be indignant about it—after all, he was the one slowly turning into a monster, not Alec—but he couldn’t…he wouldn’t.
He finds Alec standing in the library, which is now just a shell of its former self. Tall book stacks now stand barren, save for a thick layer of soot and ash and the occasional torn page that hadn’t been burned in the fire. The fall of the institute had felt like the very last of their hopes finally being snuffed out and although Alec would never say it, Magnus knew that he was mourning, for what once was and perhaps what could have been.
Now there was nothing except fire and blood and death…so much death.
Magnus is silent as he carefully navigates through the debris that litters the floor. He’s making his way towards Alec, who has his back to him and is staring down at a large piano that was lying in two halves, as if someone had sliced right through its middle. It’s a grim sight to behold, even amidst the ruins that crumbled all around it. Magnus knew why Alec was so fixated on the piano. He knew it and it broke his heart.
“Alexander…” He starts slow, gentle, as if he could somehow coax Alec into seeing things from his point of view with a whisper and a smile. Ah, if only it were still so easy..
Magnus stills behind him and reaches up to place a gentle hand on Alec’s stiffened shoulder, ignoring the way his veins sing with pain under his skin with even the subtlest of movements. He knows that Alec is thinking about Jace and he wishes, more than anything that they had the luxury of time to dwell on such things…but they don’t. They’re already living on borrowed time; Magnus can feel it inside of him. Demon blood that was once his source of existence, of power, had been twisted and deformed by blight and soon, he would be gone. Too soon.
His resolve steels when he is met with only silence and he continues, because he has to. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear but—“ Alec whips around to face him so fast that is shocks him, fury and hurt and tears burning in his enormous eyes. Magnus’ resolve crumbles and his words die on his lips, which quiver with an unspoken agony that mirrors in his eyes.
“You think this is easy for me?” Alec asks, and his tone is so cool that is chills Magnus, all the way to his bones. “There is no reality that you are ever a burden to me.”
Alec’s words are sharp and they cut Magnus down to his core because they were stupid, foolish words that he himself had uttered to Alec once—back before the world had fallen apart and they still thought they had a fighting chance. It felt like someone else’s life now; distorted, like a faded picture that was hard to make out.
Magnus’ chest heaves with a sob that he was desperately trying to keep inside. He needed Alec to understand, before it was too late. “But I won’t be me anymore, Alec…” He whispers brokenly, ignoring the agony that radiated beneath his skin where Alec’s hand gripped him firmly.
Magnus had seen the effect that the blight had on the Warlocks. It had started with the very oldest of them first, their very own demon blood burning away their humanity until there was nothing left but a mindless demon on a tight leash—that Sebastian wielded. He knew it was coming, he’d been feeling it for weeks, the subtle simmer that slowly turned into boil as his veins began to blacken beneath skin that felt cracked and curled and raw, like wallpaper catching fire. They couldn’t outrun it, no matter how much they tried, and Magnus was so tired of running.
His gaze lifted tentatively, seeking the comfort in Alec’s eyes that had always been there before now. Now they just looked haunted. Magnus hated himself for asking Alec what he was asking, but he couldn’t bear the alternative—he just couldn’t.
“It has to be you, Alec, I’m not strong enough…” His voice hitches dryly, even as the words force themselves out of his throat, as if desperately trying to remain unsaid. Alec looks stricken, as if Magnus’ words had slapped him, hard and Magnus thinks for a moment that he is going to deny him.
Alec is already pulling away, taking a step back and forcing that distance again. Ever determined. Magnus loved him for it, even if it was all so very…pointless. “Please, Alec,” Magnus sniffled then, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He could feel the tears pushing up against the walls he had built to keep in all the emotions that he could no longer process in this world. It was taking every ounce of energy and sheer willpower for Magnus to retain control of himself for as long as he had already managed, he couldn’t afford to lose control—not now, when they were so close to the end.
“It has to be on my terms Alec…please…please…I need you to do this for me…please.” Magnus had never begged for anything in his life but here he was, dropping to his knees and clinging to Alec’s legs, begging for the unthinkable. It was agony, in every sense.
Alec seemed frozen in place, his eyes tired and hollow as he gazed down at Magnus like he was a stranger crumpled at his feet. Agony.
Silent tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and Magnus sniffled again and choked on another sob, struggling to retain some semblance of dignity. Whatever for, he did not know.
Something seemed to switch on behind Alec’s gaze and he jerked suddenly, like he’d just woken from a nightmare and needed to clear his thoughts. He said nothing, just held up a hand in front of him and shook his head, and then he was gone. Turning on his heel and stalking out of the room, broken glass and splintered bits of wood crunching beneath his boots as he left Magnus alone—a crumpled, broken mess.
For a long while, Magnus remained where he was, his shoulders shaking with dry sobs that bounced off the hollow walls. He felt hopeless and helpless and so many other things that twisted into a massive ball inside of him that was impossible to control anymore. Alec had asked him once, what scared him and it was this. Right here.
Magnus cried then. He cried for what they had sacrificed and what they had lost—what they had to lose still and it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
Eventually, like most days, Magnus finally managed to get himself back to his feet, wincing openly because there wasn’t anyone left to hide it from. The pain that simmered inside of him was constant and torturous and soon, it would be too much to bear at all, Magnus knew it was only a matter of time.
When he stepped back outside, the sun, which had already started to disappear behind the haze, was hanging duly in the sky, casting sickly shadows on everything around him. His gaze fell on Alec then, who was perched atop a motorcycle at the bottom of the steps, gazing off in the distance like a goddamn postcard. It was breathtaking and Magnus’ chest seized sharply, a fresh crop of tears already threatening to make their escape.
He didn’t know what to say. Alec looked like a natural sitting on the sleek machine and it stirred something in him, something that he feared was already beginning to burn away. Magnus wanted to ask him where he’d snagged the thing but found that he didn’t really care.
“Get on.” Alec says, just like that, without even looking at him.
Magnus blinked, his gaze flicking between Alec and the bike. He trusted Alec; would follow him anywhere in this entire fucked up world, but they didn’t have time for this. They just didn’t have the time. “Alec—“ It was the only word he managed to get out before Alec’s head snapped around so quick it was a blur and instantly killed any retort he thought he would like to make.
Alec’s gaze was fixed on him so intently that it commanded compliance and Magnus was helpless against it. He always had been, after all. “Magnus.” Alec said, simply, with just a hint of impatience that instantly softened his expression. It was just a simple thing, but Magnus understood it. He understood Alec and so he gave in.
Magnus nodded, once, firmly, as he walked over to where Alec sat, offering him a small, defeated smile as he climbed up onto the bike and tucked himself in right behind. Alec’s back was firm against his front and Magnus allowed himself to dissolve into that warmth that felt like home. He sucked in a deep breath and dropped his head down on Alec’s shoulder, arms snaking around his middle and holding on so tight he might never let go.
Alec kick started the bike with a confidence that made the very corners of Magnus’ mouth curl with the fondest smile. Alec was nothing if not determined. The motorcycle roared to life beneath them and Magnus’ eyes fluttered shut, surrendering it all to Alec and this moment.
It didn’t take him very long to figure out the mechanical aspect of the bike and soon enough they were roaring along down one street after another. The wind was warm and sharp and it whipped painfully at Magnus’ skin and tangled his hair. Alec was like a steady, comforting warmth against him and Magnus sucked in another, deep, cleansing breath, burying his nose right between Alec’s shoulder blades. He smelled like leather and smoke and so many other things that Magnus didn’t want to think about.
Once upon a time things could have been so different and Magnus feels bitter and cheated that this had become their fate. It wasn’t fair, he thought, petulantly, as if he still had the freedom to be so childish. Those days were gone, along with all of their friends. There was nothing left for them here, not anymore.
Magnus feels Alec’s muscles tense against him as he removes his arms from where they were anchored around his middle and he smiles, leaning in close enough to press a small kiss to the back of his neck. Just a small assurance. Everything is fine, or, as fine as it can be, anyways. He smiles as he raises his arms up, stretching them out on either side of him as they zoomed down the street like they were the only two people in the world.
Magnus knows what Alec is doing and he loves him for it, he always has. Alec was stubborn but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that there was no other way; Magnus had seen it in his eyes, even when he was denying it with his mouth.
When he tires of the wind’s relentless torrent his arms return, sliding back around Alec and locking him in place, as if he could freeze them right here in this very moment. Magnus would never say it aloud but he was tired. Tired of running and tired of fighting and tired of pretending that he wasn’t going to die.
There was never a reality in which leaving Alec wasn’t absolute torment, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t have to happen. Magnus knew it, and he knew that Alec did too, deep down, in the dark places.
By the time Alec parks the bike back at the bottom of the Institute steps, the red sun had nearly sunk into the depths of a black horizon that would devour Thule with all the ugly things that crept around in the darkness. A small shiver shook him as he slid off the bike, his legs stiff and sore and crackling with a pain that made his fingers shake. Magnus glanced up at the darkening sky and frowned, his brows knitting together as he followed Alec up the steps and back inside the ruined Institute. He didn’t need to say it, Alec was just aware that they were running out of time as Magnus was. He wanted to scream. Just scream and scream until his throat was hoarse and his lungs gave out but he said nothing instead, just stuffed down the agony and forged on—it was the least he could do.
Later still, the pain will become too much for Magnus to hide and he really will scream and the sound of it—the pure agony that resonated at its core—would break Alec. Break him right in half, like that stupid fucking piano. He will realize that he couldn’t ever really fix anything at all and it will consume him, much like the blight, that had turned all of love’s veins demon-black.
In the end, it is blackness and it is red-hot pain and then it is nothing. Just sleep.
Long ago in the other world, when Sebastian was sleeping, Janus had gone back for Alec, but the bodies had vanished. Janus hoped now that they had not been eaten by the roving, starving demons.
He hoped Maryse had burned Alec and Magnus both. He wished that a kind wind had carried their ashes away, and let them stay together.
Forever Fallen
I am not okay! Thule Malec's story is too sad for me...
“Bane realized he was turning into a demon. He begged his boyfriend, Alexander Lightwood, to kill him. Alec did, and then turned the sword on himself. Their bodies were found together in the ruins of New York”
I had a good day and then suddenly I remembered this... why Cassie, tell me why did you do this to me? I don’t think I will be over it anytime soon...
