Archive of Our Own

Alec groaned quietly, clasping his arms over his stomach and curling into the corner as much as he could. His wound was bleeding, far too heavy and fast for him to be fine by the time Jace and Isabelle would return.

The stone halls of the den were dark, providing Alec with ample cover to hide himself from the enemy’s eyes. When Maryse had called the three of them on his mission, Alec knew that it would be difficult for all three of them to return. But he had resolved then and there that if anyone were to remain behind, it would be him.

He just didn’t expect to run into one of the asmodei so soon into their mission. Jace had managed to deliver the killing blow, of course, but not before it stabbed Alec in the torso with one of its long claw-like limbs, and he had to remain behind. He could only hope that Jace and Isabelle would take care of the rest of the mission and return to him in one piece.

For now, Alec’s eyes shifted from left to right, watching out for any enemies who might pass this way. The halls were silent for a few painfully long moments, and then Alec heard the distant echoes of voices and footsteps.

Panic surged instantaneously within Alec’s veins. He leveled his breathing as best as he could, and backed into the well, pressing his back into the black wall. He was dressed in all Shadowhunter black, so it was easy to blend into the shadows. He had been trained from a young age to be able to blend into shadows. This ought to be easy to pull off.

Two forms appeared at the end of one hallway. One, a tall person, stalking through the halls with long thick-soled boots that clacked against the floor as they walked. The other was stubby and short, and from the wriggling movements it exhibited, was clearly was demon.

“On the third moon, you say?” the person was saying, and from the thick, rich deep voice, Alec assumed it was a man. “Isn’t that too early?”

“His majesty believes it is the perfect time.” The asmodei demon’s voice was rough and gurgly, as if it were speaking from underwater. Alec kept his trained eye upon them both, ignoring the dizziness that his wound was starting to cast over him.

“Very well, then,” the man stopped right next to Alec, who held his breath and waited. “Go ahead, I have something to attend to. I shall join father in a moment.”

The demon nodded and moved on. Alec watched the man, who watched the demon until it was out of sight, and then to his utter shock, turned upon him.

Alec sat extremely still, hoping that the man’s gaze would simply pass over him and then he would move on, but he kneeled in front of Alec, one hand shooting out and gripping the front of Alec’s jacket.

“What the hell,” he hissed, and Alec froze when he noticed the man’s eyes. “Are you doing here?”

His eyes were slit-pupilled like a cat’s, and in Alec’s world, that meant only one thing. He remembered the man saying something about meeting his father, and if this father was who he thought he was, then this person was...

“You-“ Alec’s throat blanched at the thought.

“Yes, I’m Magnus Bane,” he said, confirming Alec’s fears. Maybe he should’ve fought back immediately, but his nerves froze at the sight of one of the men he was taught to fear since childhood. “And you’re one of the nephilim. You’re not supposed to be here.”

Alec tried to say something, but Magnus ignored his efforts at speaking and looked both ways before he reached down and hoisted Alec up into his arms. Magnus stood, and Alec yelped, scrambling at Magnus’s shoulders for something to hold on to.

“We’ll have to take care of your wound,” he said, looking at the gaping wound in Alec’s stomach. He walked towards the nearest door and shouldered it open, then took Alec inside.

Alec’s heart was beating fast. He couldn’t fathom what was going to happen now. Magnus Bane was the eldest of Asmodeus’s children, and had a notorious reputation among the Shadowhunters. The room that Magnus took him into was dark for a moment, but then he snapped his fingers, the sound crisp and clear in the silent space. A few torches lining the walls lit up, and Alec took in the room with wide eyes. It was probably a study once. Now there was nothing more than a large empty desk in one corner, and several bookshelves with books spilling out of them, rotting away. Magnus cleared the dust off the desk with a flick of his hand, then placed Alec on it.

Alec jerked away from him, defensive when Magnus’s hand hovered close to his wound. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Just shut up and trust me,” Magnus hissed. His hand was glowing with a blue light, and Alec watched in wonder as the blood cleared away, and his skin knitted itself over the wound. Though it was quick and clean, it wasn’t painless. Alec gripped the edge of the desk with his hands, biting his tongue to keep quiet as, in a few moments, his skin turned unblemished under the torn cloth as if there had never been a wound there in the first place.

“Why?” Alec gasped out when it was done.

Magnus looked up at him, his cat’s eyes bright and dangerous.

“Why the hell are you doing this?” Alec asked again. “We’re- You’re supposed to be killing me.”

Magnus cocked his head to one side. “And if I don’t kill you? What then? You’ll kill me?”

Alec was silent. He didn’t have to say it out loud. Both of them knew exactly what the answer was.

“Maybe I’m sick of all the killing,” Magnus said, backing away. “But you will never stop, will you? You won’t stop until all of us are gone.”

“You’re all demons,” Alec said. “It’s my duty.”

“Not all of us are demons,” Magnus said, and then turned away, swishing a flame to extinguish the lights. “This never happened. We never met. If you ever see me again, that will be out first meeting. And I may not be as kind then.”

Alec watched him leave, closing the door behind him, then gingerly got off the desk. He stretched sideways, making sure that his wound was completely healed, then unstrapped his bow from his shoulder and stepped out to find Isabelle and Jace.