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Alec turns his face to the stone wall, taking in deep breaths where no one can see him. There’s hardly been time to even breathe since the wedding that never happened, no respite from Valentine or his parents or any of the daily tasks that weigh him down.
The world tilts, spins around him until Alec has to reach out and steady himself against the wall. Vertigo swamps him, and Alec sways, unsure if the room is tipping or he is. The halls around him are empty, and though this is a smaller hallway, it suddenly looms around him, vast and so, so empty.
Alec presses his forehead to the cool, familiar stone, letting it sooth him as he closes his eyes. It’s the bloodloss, or the burned out stamina runes. It’s nothing he really needs to worry about. There’s a lurch, almost like jerking to a stop on the subway, and Alec breathes through it like he always does. It’s never been like this before.
The hall isn’t vast or imposing when he opens his eyes again, the light suddenly warmer, the shadows a bit less dark. Still empty, but when he steps away from the wall, Alec hears laughter down the hall, hears crisp footsteps and the comforting ring of blades, and relaxes. He’s gotten what he needed, he should get back to his room. The last thing he wants is Izzy or worse, Jace, putting the pieces together.
Not very likely, he thinks, and sighs. Neither of his siblings have had much time for him lately, especially if it meant trying to get him out of his room. The chances of them noticing now, when he was mostly dealing with stiff muscles and phantom pains, were small.
He takes the back halls, sticking to routes that would be deserted this time of night. He should return to his office, try and get some work done. The mess with Valentine was getting worse, the Clave cared more about punishing Alec then taking real action, and it would take a miracle from Raziel himself to keep his siblings alive during the mess.
Except, of course, that he doesn’t even have an office. His parents had taken the head office back when they arrived, and then Alec’s official office when Lydia took over. It’s strange, now, that he resents their intrusion more than Lydia’s.
No office, no job, and no future if the Clave had anything to say about it. The still healing marks on his back may have been his official punishment for his stunt at the wedding, but he doubted it would be the worst one.
He hasn’t even had time to see Magnus since the wedding. Alec has to hope he was clear enough at the wedding, which may have made all the rest worth it. He can’t be sure if Magnus is avoiding him, after the way Alec’s parents spoke to him, Alec can’t even blame him if he is.
The thought that, after everything, he might lose Magnus as well, is unbearable.
When his door comes into view, Alec has to suck in a deep breath. He’s probably catastrophizing. Magnus knows who Alec’s parents are, knows how horrible they can be. He probably knows better than Alec does, and he’d come to the wedding anyway. Had come for Alec , however undeserving he might be, even after Alec had rejected him. He wouldn’t have done all that just to leave now— would he?
Abruptly, it's all too much. He wants, needs to see Magnus. He feels his future slipping away the further they get from that one perfect kiss. Before he can think better of it, Alec turns on his heel and heads towards one of the secret exits. Outside, he activates his runes, the city an unseen blur around him.
Outside the door, however, Alec hesitates—he hadn’t told Magnus he was coming, he’d just wanted to see him—but squares his shoulders and wraps on the door, heart in his throat.
The door opens almost before his third knock lands, but the loft is open and empty on the other side. Still, Alec feels the tingle of magic as he enters, feels the energy of the place that only exists when Magnus is here.
“Alexander, is that you?” Magnus’ voice drifts from down a hall Alec has never seen before, and he follows it without thinking. Magnus is standing over a cauldron. His hair is longer than it was at the wedding but just as carefully styled, streaked with the same teal as his shirt.
“Hi,” Alec says stupidly, trying not to stare. The shirt is pushed up to Magnus’ elbows, and Alec can see his muscles shifting as he stirs his potion. It’s distracting.
You don’t usually knock.” Magnus looks up from the potion, a smile already blooming on his face, but he falters slightly at the sight of Alec in the doorway.
Alec tries not to shuffle his feet, feeling like he’s done something wrong, to have Magnus already look at him like that. But then Magnus is smiling again, warm and sincere, and Alec tells himself he was imagining it.
Belatedly he realizes that Magnus probably expects some kind of response. “Yeah, sorry. I’m working on it,” Alec says, familiar with having to apologize on Jace and Izzy’s behalf. When he glances up, Magnus’ whole attention is on him, eyes sharp, and Alec flushes and looks away. It’s the first time they’ve been alone since the wedding.
“Hmm,” Magnus says, letting it go easily, returning to his potion. “How’s your day gone, darling?”
Alec feels his face heat up at the petname, and he wonders if he’ll ever return to a normal color around Magnus. He cautiously moves further into the room, more bold when Magnus just smiles at him. “Nothing too exciting,” he says honestly. “Mostly paperwork.” Not letting him take patrols with Jace and Izzy was his mother’s way of punishing him, and would have taken twice the Clave’s punishment than sit around on desk duty for another day.
“The exciting life of a Shadowhunter,” Magnus teases. “Would you pass me the jar of lacewings?”
Alec turns where he indicates, but most of the bottles are unlabeled, and nothing in any of them looked much like lace. “Which one’s that?”
“Third row, two in. Silver topper.”
Alec finds it, peering at the contents. They don’t look anything like lace. They looked more like dragonfly wings, with veins of bright silver.
“Pretty,” Alec observes, and winces at his own awkwardness. Hurriedly he turns and hands it to Magnus, too fast for their hands to brush.
“They are, aren’t they? Cost a fortune, but that’s why it’s so wonderful to have someone who’ll go through the work of catching them for me.”
Alec fights down the urge to volunteer, to tell Magnus he’ll bring him anything, bring him the stars themselves, if Magnus asked it of him. Magnus is a warlock, has probably had thousands of lovers. He didn’t need the full weight of a Nephilim's devotion laid on him.
"What about you?" Alec asks, perching awkwardly on the edge of a tall stool in front of Magnus' work table. "How was your day?"
"Not too eventful, although I suspect that's all about to change soon."
Alec makes a face. "I hope not." Every day that Valentine doesn't act is another knot of tension in his spine, but it's better than the alternative.
Magnus gives him a soft look, almost too much to bear in the bright light of the workroom. "We don't always get a choice."
"That's ominous."
Magnus just makes another humming noise and turns his attention back to the potion. Alec watches, mesmerized, as Magnus works, adding ingredients, casting spells, being magical with every movement. Finally, Magnus weaves a shimmering blue net over the top of the cauldron and turns to face Alec fully.
"That was a bit time sensitive, but now I'm all yours," Magnus says, stepping around the table to move closer.
If only, Alec thinks, and bites his lip to stop himself voicing the thought aloud. Magnus stops just in front of him, close enough to kiss.
Alec swallows, and links both hands behind his back so he doesn't do anything stupid.
"I haven't seen that face in awhile," Magnus says quietly. He reaches out and cups his hand over Alec's jaw, and Alec turns into the touch helplessly. If he were more daring, he would kiss the soft skin of Magnus' palm, so close to his lips.
When Magnus steps away, Alec balls his hands into fists rather than pull him closer.
"Why don't we talk on the couch?" Magnus offers, leading Alec out of his workroom and guides him down onto his couch, sitting down almost too close beside him. It reminds Alec of waking up here, Magnus sitting almost close enough to touch, the way it had made his heart race. His heart is racing now.
"Alexander." Magnus hesitates, then takes both of Alec's hands with his. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes," Alec replies, too sincere. He's said it before, but it feels so damning each time.
Something, some emotion, crosses Magnus' face and Alec wishes he knew Magnus well enough to understand what it meant. "Thank you, darling," Magnus says, no trace of whatever it had been in his tone. "That means a lot."
Feeling daring, Alec turns his hands in Magnus', lacing their fingers together. He can feel the weight of Magnus' rings against his knuckles, warm from his skin. "Why?"
Magnus takes a deep breath. "Because I'm going to tell you something unbelievable, and I'm going to need you to believe me anyway."
That sounds ominous. Alec doesn't let his grip change, doesn't let his face betray his apprehension. "I'll try," he says, which earns him such a fond look he feels almost all those new nerves drift away.
"Can you tell me the date?"
"July 19th, why?"
"What year?" Magnus presses.
"Wha- 2016?" Alec replies, baffled at Magnus' intensity. "That's not unbelievable though."
"It is, Alexander," Magnus says firmly, holding his eyes. "It is, because today is July 19, 2036."
Alec stares at him. Then. "What?"
"I think you've run into some temporal displacement. Or, rather, the you of this time has. We've had pockets of instability around New York lately, but nothing that's been big enough to send a person through. It won't be permanent, but it can be quite inconvenient."
"That's, that's impossible." Alec doesn't stand only because it would mean taking his hands out of Magnus' and he can't bear to do that yet.
"Not impossible, just incredibly improbable," Magnus replies. His grip tightens on Alec’s hands, giving him a tentative smile. "I did say it would be something unbelievable."
"You did," Alec says, closing his eyes. Magnus wouldn't say something like this as a joke. Magnus isn't that kind of person. He wouldn't lie either. Not after the wedding, not after they both made such public, irrevocable statements at the wedding. "I'm trying."
"I know."
Alec shakes his head, trying to get his bearings. The future. 20 years in the future. It should be impossible. He shouldn't believe it.
But then, mundanes thought that magic was impossible. Alec had once thought someone like Magnus was impossible. Maybe there was no such thing as impossible, only things he didn't know.
"Help me believe you," he says softly, eyes still closed. "Anything. Please."
Magnus pulls one hand free, and Alec almost chases it before he gets himself under control. Magnus doesn't let his hand drop, catching it palm up in his own broad hand. Alec feels something metallic and warm press into his open palm; one of Magnus' rings.
"Open your eyes," Magnus whispers.
And Alec does, because Magnus asked him to.
There, centered in his palm, silver and ancient and /familiar/, is the Lightwood family ring. The one worn by the spouse of the first Lightwood heir. The one he hadn't been able to offer to Lydia, not without love behind it.
Alec turns shocked eyes to Magnus. "But this is-"
"You gave it to me. 19 years ago." Magnus closes Alec's fingers around the ring. "We've been married for almost twenty years now."
This time Alec can't help it, can't help ripping his hands from Magnus as he jumps up, fingers closing into a fist around the ring. "That's not, that's impossible. We can't. /You/ can't possibly want- the Clave would never allow it."
"You would be surprised what the Clave allows these days," Magnus replies, watching Alec carefully.
"How can I- how could you-" Alec feels panic pressing at his throat, behind his eyes. He spins away from Magnus and his lovely, too-knowing eyes, striding towards the window. There’s something off about the skyline, something different from the New York Alec knows so well.
"What part are you struggling with?" Magnus asks. "The future or the wedding."
"Neither," Alec snaps. "Both. I don't know!" He pushes a hand through his hair, sucking in a deep breath. The ring is digging into his palm, and he opens his hand again to look at it. It's unmistakable; the stylized capital L, the familiar flames that curled up the edges. His mother had still been wearing it at his wedding to Lydia.
Alec takes another deep breath and turns back to Magnus. "We're married?" It can't be true. It's impossible. An impossible dream.
"Ah, so it is the marriage." Magnus stands and crosses to Alec, uncurling his fingers from the ring until his hand is relaxed. "Yes, Alexander. We're married. You are my husband, and I am yours, until the sun fails to set and the oceans themselves run dry."
"Why?" Alec gasps out desperately. "Why would you— why me?"
With a sad smile, Magnus reaches out to touch Alec's face. "Oh, darling. Because I love you.”
Alec feels tears prick at his eyes and he has to pull away or risk Magnus seeing them. "That's not a real reason," Alec says, staring out the window.
"If you want me to give you a list, we'll be here a very long time."
Alec blushes. "No. No, I don't need a list. I just." He turns back to Magnus. "I believe you're telling the truth- I just down see how it could be possible."
"A lot of hard work and determination," Magnus says, "And love. Always love."
Alec has to look away and count his breaths, overwhelmed, before he can reply. “Okay. So. I’m in the future. What do I need to do to fix it?"
Magnus gives him an indulgent look, but there’s an edge of sadness that Alec doesn’t understand. “You don’t have to be the one to fix everything, darling.”
“Of course I do.”
Magnus’ hand clenches on his, then relaxes before Magnus lets go, stepping away from him. “Why don’t we sit back down on the couch. I’ll explain as much as I can.”
When Alec sits down, Magnus sits too close again, their sides almost touching.
“First thing, you don’t have to do anything. The timeline is quite a bit stronger than people think. You and my husband, you’re stretched out in time. It won’t be long before you snap back, like a rubber band.”
“A rubber band,” Alec repeats skeptically.
“Exactly. Beyond that— well, do you have any questions for me?”
"How did you know it was me?" Alec asks, leaning back against the couch. "I mean, me me. You knew right away, didn't you?"
"I knew something was wrong when you knocked to get into our home."
"But you knew it was the temporal whatever. I could have been a shifter. Or someone in his body."
"Well, to start with, my wards are a bit better than that, have a little faith. Secondly, I have some-" his gaze darkens, "experience with body stealers, and I know how to recognize them now. But mostly? I know you. I would know you in any body, in any time, in any universe. Do you understand me?"
Shakily, Alec nods. "Yes."
"As to how I knew it was the temporal replacement? It's been a long time since you've looked at me like that." Magnus cups Alec's cheek, sweeping his thumb on the delicate skin beside Alec's eyes.
"Like what?" Alec whispers.
"Like you're still afraid to want me," Magnus says. "Like you think you'll break me."
Alec swallows. "How do I usually look at you?"
Magnus' gaze goes a bit distant, his smile a bit looser. "Like I'm everything you want and will ever need, and you don't care who sees it. Like you want me, but so confident, because you know that you have me."
Alec slams his eyes closed to stop himself from crying, overwhelmed at the love in Magnus' voice, the way the words 'you have me' rings in the air. His hands clench into fists at his side as he struggles for control.
"It's alright, Alexander," Magnus says, pulling Alec into a hug. "You're alright. I love you."
Alec breaks, his shoulder shaking with the single great sob of the dam breaking as he turns his face into Magnus' shoulder.
Magnus guides them both back down to the couch, not letting Alec get further away than the circle of Magnus' arms. They end up with Alec half in Magnus' lap, arms around Magnus' neck. Magnus has one comforting arm around his waist to hold him in place, and one hand running through Alec's hair.
The tears, silent after that first outburst, slow then stop as Alec breathes, taking in the scent of Magnus, rich and heady this close to his skin. He should feel embarrassed, but Magnus holds him so carefully, strokes his hair with such care, he can't muster the emotion.
When he pulls back, Magnus lets his hand fall to rest comfortingly on the back of Alec's neck. "Better?"
“Yes,” Alec says, reluctantly sliding sideways off of Magnus to sit beside him on the couch. “Thank you.”
Magnus winces. “Please don’t thank me for that. It’s not— you don’t need to thank me.”
“Okay,” Alec agrees, confused by the change in tone, but willing to go along with it.
It’s still easy, with Magnus. It always has been, and it’s true even 20 years removed. It’s easy, to let Magnus make him coffee, perfectly made to his preference. It’s easy to let Magnus tease him, to let himself smile and unfold under the attention.
“We live here together?” Alec asks, looking around the loft with wide eyes. It’s so magical here, so different from the Institute, that Alec can hardly imagine it.
“Kind of,” Magnus says. “We try and stay here as often as possible, but most of the year we have the house in Alicante. Just a portal away, of course, but it’s not really the same—”
“Alicante?” Alec interrupts, shocked. “I live in Alicante?”
Magnus, who had made himself comfortable in a lounge against the arm of the couch, sits up to look at Alec better. “No, darling, we live in Alicante. Both of us. You would never have gone without me, and I wouldn’t have let you.”
Alec opens and closes his mouth. “Why am I living in Alicante? Did I not— did I lose the Institute?”
“No, Alec, of course not,” Magnus says. “You were an amazing Head of the Institute. You were amazing up until the day they appointed you Inquisitor. And around the same time, they so happened to decide that what Alicante really needed was a High Warlock. Due to my close ties to the Shadowhunter community,” he winks at Alec, “I was the obvious choice.”
“Inquisitor?” Alec repeats, stunned.
“Youngest ever.”
Alec tries not to gape, his mind spinning. “Who is in charge of the Institute then?”
“You passed it to Isabelle when you were promoted. She did an excellent job, of course, but nothing on you. She just retired herself last year.”
“Izzy, retired?” Alec asks skeptically.
“It’s what she, Jace and Clary call running around on unsanctioned patrols.”
Alec snorts. Somethings never changed. And, from how casually Magnus had dropped her name in there, Clary was probably going to be one of them.
“So who’s running it now? Don’t tell me Jace and Clary have some ginger hellion running rampant over New York.”
“No, darling. That would be our hellion running rampant over New York.”
“What?”
“The current head of the New York Institute is Rafael Lightwood-Bane. Our son.”
“We have a son?” Alec whispers, something he hadn’t even known he wanted until Magnus said it.
“We have three,” Magnus replies. “And two girls.”
“That’s five kids,” Alec says, shocked. “How did we manage that?”
“Well, they weren’t all kids at once. The oldest is twenty, and the youngest is still a toddler. Would you like me to tell you about them?”
Yes. No. It’s almost too much, being so suddenly confronted with everything he’s ever wanted.
“What are their names?” he asks, heart racing.
Magnus studies his face. “Would you try something for me, first?”
“Anything,” Alec says easily.
Magnus rearranges himself on the couch, tugging and directing Alec until they’re positioned how he wants. Alec ends up with his head in Magnus’ lap, his legs stretched out the length of a couch that shouldn’t hold him, but did.
Magnus starts combing his fingers through Alec’s hair, soothing. When he starts to speak again, his voice is soft, and Alec wonders if this is Magnus afraid to scare him off. “Raf is the oldest, then Max. Then Anne, Orion, and the toddler Cayah.”
“I can’t wait to meet them,” Alec says honestly.
It sounds impossible. It sounds like a fever dream, some illusion created specially to trap him.
They sit in silence, Alec’s thoughts drifting away with the steady stroke of Magnus’ hand.
“What are you thinking, darling?” Magnus asks.
“I never thought that I could have this. This kind of life,” Alec says, even though Magnus has to know. “I thought the best I could hope for was a loveless marriage with someone I respected. And, after the wedding, I thought my career was over. I’d be lucky if I was confined to New York like Hodge was.”
Magnus turns Alec’s face towards him with his free hand. “You have a wonderful life, Alexander Lightwood-Bane,” and oh, what that name does to him, “because you have made a wonderful life. We fought for this, and I never take a second of it for granted. But I need you to know everything we have here; our live, our homes, our children. It’s all because you were brave enough to risk everything you ever knew on a chance.”
Alec stares up at him, beautiful and sunlit and everything Alec has ever wanted.
“Will I forget this, when I go back?” He doesn't want to give up the way Magnus is looking at him, the grounding heat of his palm. The words Magnus had said.
Izzy has, on occasion, tossed a teasing 'Love you, bro' at him. She's even said it sincerely, once or twice. Jace never has, and if Alec's parents ever said it, he's long forgotten. He can't remember the last time someone told him they loved him. Alec has never doubted that his siblings love him. He thinks his parents even love him, as much as they can. But he hasn't heard the words in so long, hadn't realized how starved for them he had become.
“You won’t need to,” Magnus promises. “It’s all in front of you.”
And somehow, impossibly, Alec believes him.