Body of Memory [4/7]
Title: Body of Memory Pairing: Alec Lightwood/Magnus Bane Warnings: None Other tags: Temporary amnesia, Magic-induced memory loss, Identity issues, Angst with a happy ending Summary: After a patrol gone very wrong, Alec Lightwood comes to in the infirmary with no memory of the past three years, and that turns out to be just the beginning of his problems.
Chapter 4 on Archive of Our Own
*
Magnus stands frozen in the doorway, staring up at him. Alec has just long enough to feel awkward before he takes a short breath, then says, “Of course. Of course, Alexander. Please come in.”
“Thanks,” he mutters. The warlock stands aside to let him in, and Alec can feel the fine hairs on his arms lift as he passes close enough, almost, to feel the warmth of his skin. There’s a small, panicked part of him demanding that he turn around right now, that it was a mistake to come here, what are you doing, Alec, everybody’s going to know—
Everybody already knows. The secret he’s spent more than ten years protecting is entirely out in the open. He doesn’t need to hide, whatever his instincts are screaming at him. What he needs now are answers.
The door falls shut behind them, and Alec pauses inside, shoves his hands in his pockets, staring at the place that he now apparently calls home. He’s never been inside a warlock’s lair, and it’s… not what he was expecting. There’s nothing obviously magical about the place, no floating candles or scorched cauldrons or spells scrawled on the hardwood floors and exposed brickwork; it just looks like an apartment. A nice apartment, large and airy, tall windows open to let in the soft night air and the distant noises of the city below, but that’s it.
The bow rack that was missing from his room is mounted in between the windows, a seraph blade hanging underneath. There are pictures of him on the walls. Pictures of Magnus, of people he knows and people he doesn’t, and Alec finds his attention caught by one on the far wall, black and white and large enough that he can make out most of the detail from across the room. It’s them, the two of them. Alec is in a tux, bow-tie loose around his throat and a champagne flute in one hand, head thrown back in laughter as Magnus leans in to press a smiling kiss to his cheek.
It’s a strange jolt that passes through him at the sight of his own happy face, a moment he can’t remember preserved within the bounds of a handsome silver frame. It’s not just the intimacy of it, although it’s that, too. It’s that someone took this picture. This moment, this kiss, happened where other people could see it, and neither of them seems to care. The Alec in this photograph looks completely fearless. Joyful.
Read the rest on AO3
