Chapter Text
Chapter 1 - remember how you watched me leave
Twelve years was long enough for Magnus to have forgotten the sheer, stifling heat of a Virginia summer. The dazzling glare of the sun reflected off everything it touched. Up ahead, as the road stretched on into infinity to meet the cloudless sky, the world looked hazy. To his left, several feet below the dusty road, the cerulean blue ocean shimmered like someone had sprinkled it with diamonds. To his right, the jagged edge of the cliff led up to trees perched precariously on the weathered rock face.
Despite the dark sunglasses covering his face, Magnus had to slow his car and squint at the road sign as he approached. Not that it mattered - his was the only car on the cliff-side highway, this far away from a reasonably-sized town.
Valentina, five miles.
Magnus pressed down the accelerator and turned up the air conditioning. Despite trying very hard to ignore every passing landmark, he found himself beginning to recognise the scenery. Even more worrying, as everything looked the same for what felt like a hundred miles. He’d felt sure he’d locked away every memory of this place. Not securely enough, clearly.
The rhythmic beat of his music blasting through the speakers did little to ease the curl of anxiety in his gut as he passed the next road sign.
Valentina, two miles.
Tapping out the chorus against the steering wheel, Magnus indicated to take the next exit. Not that he needed to, of course, because he hadn’t seen another car for twenty minutes. No wonder he’d hated this town as a teenager. He hadn’t even arrived yet and he already felt suffocated. In New York, he could be one person in several million. There was never so much as a heartbeat of silence, but it was just as easy to fade into the crowd as it was to make himself the centre of attention. Out in the middle of nowhere, the mere presence of another human being was enough to get people talking.
Magnus glanced down at his phone, situated on the dashboard with a map open, as he passed the flaking Welcome to Valentina sign. He sighed. Of course, there wasn’t enough phone signal for Google Maps to function properly. His phone thought he was in the middle of the ocean.
Frankly, driving off the sheer cliff the highway wound around didn’t seem too terrible, in comparison to what he was heading for.
Something akin to muscle memory guided him through the town’s small streets. At least there were a few people here, Magnus thought grimly, as he drew to a stop to let a mother and three children cross the street. Very, very slowly. God. Everything in New York was so much more efficient. Even the people.
A part of Magnus’ brain felt like he was sixteen years old once more as he drove up the gravel of Ragnor’s driveway. The house looked just the same as Magnus remembered it: red brick, hideous olive green front door, and a beautiful, well-tended garden. Even the cotton-candy-pink roses climbing up the trellis beside the porch looked the same.
Magnus inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. He could do this. He was only staying for a few weeks, and he was here for Ragnor. He was a fucking adult. It was just a town. Barely a town, with its boast-worthy fourteen hundred people.
Magnus opened his eyes and let out his breath in a rush. He could do this.
Squaring his shoulders, Magnus swung open the car door, picked up his bag from the back seat, and let the door slam shut. God, it was so hot. He was wearing shorts and a tank top, and sweat had already started to prick at his skin. It felt oppressive.
“Magnus!”
Despite everything else that was crap about the whole situation, Magnus smiled as he turned to look over his shoulder at Ragnor Fell. Ragnor looked just the same as he had the last time he’d visited Magnus in New York, grumbling about cities and city people and how rude everyone was.
“You’ve got more grey hairs,” Magnus told him, grinning cheekily.
Ragnor glared at him as he descended the steps of the porch. “If I do, it’s your fault.”
“How do you figure that?”
Ragnor shot him an unimpressed look. “How could I not?”
Magnus pretended to be put-out for a handful of seconds, before he let Ragnor sweep him into a hug. Part of him wanted to hold on. The other part couldn’t stand to touch another human being in the heat. How the hell had he survived summers here for eighteen years?
“I’m glad you came,” Ragnor said, smiling.
“Well.” Magnus glanced behind Ragnor at the house. “I suppose I did live here for three years. Now that you’ve finally decided to move—”
“I am moving three streets away,” Ragnor said, deadpan.
Magnus rolled his eyes. “And you wonder why I don’t like small towns. Why? What is the point?”
Ragnor shrugged. “It’s nicer. And bigger. And the front door isn’t green, which should please you. You’ll see. You are here to help me sort everything out, after all.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m here to help you move.”
Mischief glimmered in Ragnor’s eyes. “I’m going to milk your help for all it’s worth, darling.”
“Don’t darling me,” Magnus muttered. “I say darling. You saying it makes me feel old.”
“You are old. You’re thirty. That’s it. The kids mock you now. They tell you you’re deeply uncool and have no sense of fashion and then show up at high school wearing exactly the same crap that was trendy in your day. Trust me. It’s all downhill from here.”
“You’re making me regret coming,” Magnus lied, brushing past Ragnor to stride up the porch steps. He leant against the front door with one shoulder to push it open. “I can and will get in that car and drive back to New York.”
“And leave a poor old man to move all his things by himself?”
“You’re forty-nine. I think you’d cope.”
“Oh, I see. So I’m only old when it suits your narrative?”
“Exactly,” Magnus agreed. “Are you sticking me in my old room?”
“I think this level of rudeness deserves the cupboard under the stairs.”
“No, you don’t,” Magnus said confidently, tossing a grin over his shoulder as he kicked off his shoes and began to ascend the stairs. “You love me far too much.”
“Oh, piss off back to New York,” Ragnor grumbled. “I’ve made lunch. Then I’ll put you to work doing some awful, grisly task.”
“Sounds wonderful!” Magnus shouted over the bannister.
So much pain had been felt in this house. The worst year of Magnus’ life had played out against the backdrop of Ragnor’s terrible wallpaper. But, when he opened his old bedroom door, a different bed sat in the corner, and the curtains had been replaced with a sensible cream blind, and it smelt of air freshener rather than the stench of teenage depression.
Magnus let out a breath. He could do this.
***
Once he’d unpacked, Magnus trailed into the kitchen. At this time of day, the sun streamed right through the windows and fell onto the wooden table, around which a mismatch of chairs were asymmetrically positioned. Ragnor had music on, and he’d set a truly enormous bowl of pasta salad in the middle of the table.
Magnus arched an eyebrow. “Are we expecting company?”
Ragnor glanced up at him from where he was busy typing on his phone. “No. Sit down, you look like you’re about to crawl out of your skin.”
Magnus rolled his eyes, but did as Ragnor said, and began piling pasta into a bowl. “I am here under duress.”
“Yes.” Ragnor gave him a slightly odd sort of smile as he took the seat opposite. “You’ve mentioned that once or twice.”
“I miss strangers swearing at me already.”
“How’s the salon?” Ragnor asked.
“Oh!” Magnus felt brighter at the mere mention of the place he’d poured the last ten years - and rather a lot of start-up money - into. “It’s great. I saw one of my long-term clients the other day. You remember the little girl with the brain tumour? With the lovely mother and absolutely awful father?”
“Mm?”
“Well, she’s not so little anymore, she’s a year in remission, and we spent half an hour planning what she wants to do with her hair now she doesn’t have to have any more chemo or surgery. She wants to grow it long enough to have a fancy up-do for senior prom.”
“That’s great,” Ragnor said. His voice had taken on an unusually soft quality. “I always knew that place would do a world of good. And you were always far too good to be a lawyer.”
Magnus smiled down at his pasta, feeling oddly embarrassed at Ragnor’s easy praise. Objectively, his salon had done well, despite all the people who’d scoffed at him and told him it would just be a financial drain that would never get off the ground. Running a business that only catered for cancer patients was an unusual stance, true, but Magnus’ faith in his idea had paid off.
“What are you making me do first, then?” Magnus asked, changing the subject before they veered into anything that could get emotional. He was sure the heat had already melted his eyeliner - he didn’t need it getting any worse.
“Well.” The smirk that pulled at the corners of Ragnor’s lips made dread curl in Magnus’ stomach. “I’ve got a very long list of things that need doing. You can pick the least heinous.”
Magnus groaned. “You’re making me feel like I’m sixteen,” he complained, taking Ragnor’s phone and scrolling through the seemingly endless jobs. “Pharmacy. Pharmacy is easy. I choose the pharmacy.”
“You don’t fancy clearing out the loft?” Ragnor suggested innocently. “Or picking up the paint and bringing it back here? Or—”
“I will leave,” Magnus warned him.
Ragnor, the absolute asshole, just threw his head back and laughed. Magnus rolled his eyes fondly. Despite everything, warmth had settled in Magnus’ chest. Being back in Ragnor’s kitchen and joking around with the closest thing to a father he’d ever had was nice. Nice enough that he could ignore everything else.
***
Magnus’ greatest fear about returning to his hometown was being recognised.
Not because he was ashamed - far from it, he was happier and prouder and more confident than he ever had been, which probably came with the territory of having passed the age of thirty and consequently ceasing to give a fuck - but because he didn’t particularly want to have a conversation with people who’d known him as a teenager. Or, more specifically, with people who knew what had happened - which was everyone, because gossip in Valentina spread faster than wildfire - and who might try to discuss it with him.
That was the absolute last thing he wanted.
Which was why, when he walked through the door of the pharmacy, so hot he felt sure his skin was sloughing off, he felt relief sweep through him when he spotted the guy behind the counter. He looked about sixteen—far too young to have any recollection of Magnus.
“May I help you?” the boy asked, far more professionally than Magnus would have been capable of at that age. Magnus at sixteen had had a vocabulary formed mostly from swear words, and had struggled to utter a sentence that wasn’t bitter and sarcastic.
“I need to pick up a repeat medication for Ragnor Fell,” Magnus said, holding up the prescription Ragnor had thrust at him earlier.
“No problem. I’ll just ask Aline.” The kid turned away from the counter to peer into the back room. “Oh, uh, Mister Li– I mean Doctor– I mean– Alec—”
A very tall figure with a head of rumpled dark hair appeared in the doorway. An amused smile graced the man’s lips, and he quirked one eyebrow. The boy’s cheeks were bright red. Magnus’ heart stopped.
“Any of those will do,” the man said kindly. “What was it you needed?”
Without stuttering, this time - although, really, Magnus could sympathise - the boy repeated Magnus’ request.
“I’ll see if Aline can get that for you,” the man said, and then disappeared into the back.
The man. Tall, dark, handsome, and oh so familiar. Achingly familiar. It was difficult to think of anybody in the damn town Magnus would have wanted to run into less. Alec Lightwood was a haunt of Magnus’ past that he truly hadn’t expected to be confronted with on his trip to Valentina. He’d expected Alec to be in a different state. Perhaps a different continent. Far, far away from here.
Not standing behind the same counter he’d worked in high school.
“It’ll just be a moment,” the boy said, giving Magnus a customer-friendly smile, ignorant to Magnus’ horror, or the way his heart was thudding so hard against his ribs it was starting to hurt.
Alec reappeared a moment later. He was wearing glasses and had a box of Ragnor’s glaucoma drops held in one long-fingered hand, and, god, sixteen year old Magnus might have been a mess, but at least he’d been a mess with good taste.
“All ready for you and packaged up by our pharmacist, who is just sorting my messes out,” Alec said, looking up, and—
Oh, god.
Magnus’ lips tugged up half-heartedly as Alec met his gaze and froze.
“Hello,” Magnus said, like a fool.
Alec blinked, and then, to Magnus’ surprise, a grin overtook his face. “Well,” he said, eyes sparkling, “Magnus Bane. I didn’t expect to see you here today.”
The boy looked between them with raised eyebrows. Magnus sighed internally. Even if Alec didn’t spread his reappearance around the entire town, the kid probably would.
Magnus shrugged one shoulder. “What can I say? Just can’t stay away.”
Alec scoffed as the boy rang up Ragnor’s medication at the counter and held up the card machine. “Of course. I’m sure that’s the story Ragnor will tell me.”
Unbidden, Magnus’ eyebrows rose. “Ragnor?”
“Oh.” Alec paused. “I assumed—”
“No, you’re right, just...” Magnus shook his head and plastered on a smile, desperate to get the hell out of there. “Never mind. Thank you.”
“You don’t need to worry. I won’t say anything,” Alec said, as Magnus turned to go.
Magnus closed his eyes for a moment. Twelve years. It had been twelve years since he’d last been in this stupid town. Twelve years since he’d last seen Alec. And it had taken less than a minute for Alec to diagnose the root of Magnus’ discomfort.
Well. One of them, anyway.
“It’s okay,” Magnus said, turning to look at him over his shoulder. Alec’s eyes were wide and worried behind his glasses. “It won’t take long for the entire town to find out, either way.”
The little bell that tinkled as Magnus let the door shut behind him sounded far too cheerful. Magnus wanted to wrench it off and throw it on the floor. Instead, he climbed back into his car, took a deep breath, and put Alec Lightwood out of his mind.
***
“You asshole!” Magnus hollered as he opened Ragnor’s front door.
“What did I do?” Ragnor shouted back, from somewhere upstairs.
Fuming, Magnus stormed upstairs, Ragnor’s stupid eye drops clenched in one hand. He found Ragnor kneeling on the landing taping up boxes, the loft hatch open overhead with a ladder leading up into the darkness.
Ragnor caught the box Magnus tossed at him, looking mildly alarmed. “What happened? You’ve only been gone twenty minutes. Mrs Herondale can’t have found you in twenty minutes.”
Magnus scowled at the mention of Mrs Herondale, who’d enjoyed gossiping about other people’s misfortunes under the guise of sympathising far too much.
“I cannot believe you let me go there,” Magnus said, glaring. “You knew, and you still let me go.”
“Magnus.” Ragnor held up both hands placatingly. “I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about. What happened?”
“You didn’t think to warn me that Alec Lightwood still works there?”
What the hell was that about, anyway? In what universe did Alec end up working in the same tiny little pharmacy in the same tiny little town he had at age seventeen? Alec had wanted to leave and get out and never look back nearly as much as Magnus had. And he had. He’d gone far, far away. Or so Magnus had thought.
Ragnor’s face creased in bewilderment, and he let out a short laugh. “What? No, he doesn’t.”
Irritated, Magnus exhaled through his nose. “Yes, he does. He was the one who refilled your stupid prescription.”
Ragnor’s confusion didn’t abate. “I promise, he doesn’t. I have no idea why he was there today, but I’m not cruel, Magnus. I wouldn’t have asked you to go if I’d known you’d run into Alec. I’m sorry.”
Magnus deflated, anger subsiding. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
“I’m sure I’ll find it in myself to forgive you. I’m very magnanimous.” Ragnor sat back on his heels and shot him a sympathetic smile. Magnus wanted to hate it, but he didn’t. “I was going to warn you that he’s still in town, but I thought I’d save that for tomorrow. I know you don’t exactly want to be back here.”
Magnus shrugged one shoulder. “No, but I do want to help you, after everything you’ve done for me over the years. But I don’t understand. Why is he still here? Why have you never mentioned him? He said something about— It sounded like you know each other. Properly.”
“We do. Everyone knows Alec, but we do know each other well, yes.”
“Everyone knows everyone in this place, Ragnor, that’s not special. Why is he here? Why are you being shady about it?”
“That’s not really my story to tell,” was all Ragnor said. He looked down at the box set on the floor in front of him, but he didn’t really seem to see it. His eyes were glassy. Then he blinked, and glanced back at Magnus. “But I will tell you that he’s a doctor. The doctor. That’s why everyone knows him.”
Magnus narrowed his eyes. “You’re not dying, are you? That’s not why you know him so well?”
“What?” Ragnor let out a startled laugh. “No, of course I’m not dying.”
“Because if you are, and you’ve lured me back here under the guise of helping you move house but you’ve actually only got six months to live—”
“You watch too many movies,” Ragnor said, shaking his head. “I’m perfectly fine. Now, enough about Alec Lightwood. All of this–” he gestured at a stack of boxes to his left “–is stuff I thought you should go through before we choose to keep it or toss it.”
Magnus hesitated. He knew what that meant. Some of those boxes were probably perfectly innocuous. His school things, old toys and childhood trinkets and things he’d found on the beach. But others would contain her things. Photographs. Clothes. Memories of times he’d rather not revisit.
“I don’t think I can,” Magnus murmured, watching the boxes warily.
“I know,” Ragnor said gently. “I’m going to leave them on the landing. Until you’re ready.”
Magnus cut his gaze across to Ragnor. “I’m only here for a few weeks. I don’t know that that’s enough time.”
Ragnor smiled. “No. But I do.”
Magnus narrowed his eyes. He was starting to get the impression that Ragnor had some ulterior motives for luring him back to Valentina that went beyond wanting an extra pair of hands to move boxes. Ragnor was not, as a rule, sneaky, or conniving, or manipulative.
“But—”
“If not,” Ragnor said, interrupting him by lifting a hand placatingly, palm-forward, “that’s okay. I can take them with me. I’ve got the space.”
The expression on Ragnor’s face seemed open. He was watching Magnus with the same calm, steady eyes that had led Magnus through the darkest days of his life and got him out the other side in one piece.
Magnus exhaled. This was Ragnor, for crying out loud. He trusted Ragnor. Implicitly. Always. In all their years, Ragnor had never hurt or betrayed him. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be scheming. Ragnor didn’t have it in him. Not where Magnus was concerned, anyway.
“Alright.” Magnus exhaled. “So. What’s my next job? And it had better not involve any Lightwoods, this time.”
One half of Ragnor’s mouth lifted in an amused smile, and, abruptly, everything felt okay again.
***
For two beautiful, blissful days, Magnus didn’t see another person he recognised while he drove around town doing jobs for Ragnor. More importantly, nobody recognised him. Nobody came up to him. Nobody turned up on Ragnor’s doorstep just to say hello. Nobody started offering him words of sympathy and looking at him with that pitiful expression that used to make him want to scream.
Clearly, Alec kept his word and didn’t breathe a word about Magnus’ return to town.
Ragnor was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop open when Magnus returned home carrying two enormous cans of paint.
“Are we painting now or later?” Magnus called out, setting the cans down by the stairs.
“Later,” Ragnor said, glancing up and pausing momentarily in his furious typing. “I’ve got a few things I need to sort out. Have a break. Go and do something fun.”
Magnus snorted. “I will have to leave the town to manage that.”
Ragnor rolled his eyes. “You managed to find something to do every weekend for eighteen years. I’m sure you’ll cope.”
Valentina was just as stiflingly hot as it had been the day Magnus arrived. Everything seemed dry and dusty and a little lifeless in the streets. Magnus was beginning to detest the sight of poorly-fitting shorts and sweat-stained t-shirts. Not that the people could be blamed for the latter, but, nevertheless, Magnus itched to go somewhere less sweaty.
Which was how he found himself picking his way carefully down a crumbling, rocky pathway, hanging onto tree trunks and low-hanging branches to keep his balance and stop himself tumbling to his ugly demise. Things had moved since he’d last been there: the oddly-shaped tree he’d used to stop and swing on like it was a monkey-bar in a playground now laid across the ground, clearly long-dead; some of the rocks had broken up nearer the bottom; someone - probably sickeningly in-love teenagers - had scratched H&A 4ever into the bark of a tree.
He stepped easily over a rock pool and landed on the crunchy, glistening sand of the beach below. Down there, several yards down from the town that sat high up on top of the cliffs, a breeze cut through the still, sticky heat of the summer. Magnus inhaled the familiar smell of salt from the ocean, enjoying the spray that hit his face as the waves crashed against the sheer cliff face to his left.
To his right, the beach sprawled out as far as the eye could see, empty but for seaweed and a few crabs scuttling across the sand, and the odd tree that had, presumably, been felled from its precarious position on the vegetation-covered cliffs behind in a storm.
It had been so long since Magnus had last been in Valentina that he’d almost forgotten about this place. This small, private slice of wonder in the middle of hell. The townspeople never came down to the beach—many of them struggled with the climb down, and many more would rather drive out to the touristy, accessible beaches further along the coast, a few towns over, where people went to sunbathe and swim.
Magnus had always loved coming down here. Nobody ever bothered him on the beach. He could escape the gazes and the whispers and simply exist.
Perhaps that was why he’d adapted so well to life in New York. It was so entirely the opposite, but also very much the same. He was surrounded by millions of people, but the solitude, the way strangers left each other alone and barely paid attention to anyone else in the street, felt rather similar to standing alone on the beach and looking out across the waves rolling in.
Not that he’d always been alone down here, of course. His first foray into skinny dipping had been on this beach. The first time he’d dared to utter his plans to run away to New York, he’d sat on one of the rocks behind him, shoulder to shoulder with the only person he thought might understand. His first kiss hadn’t been down here, but the first one that really mattered had.
Magnus dropped his bag - containing just his phone, a bottle of water, and suncream - onto the sand, kicked off his espadrille sandals, and tugged his tank top over his head.
The sea felt freezing in comparison to his overheated skin, and he shivered, feeling goosebumps rise across his skin. But even that was familiar—as was the way it began to feel warm as he stepped further in. The water lapped at the bottom of his swimming trunks, and Magnus inhaled deeply before ducking down, letting the ocean consume him.
He shook his hair out of his eyes as he resurfaced, dripping wet and feeling better than he had since he first set foot in Valentina three days ago. He always used to feel more alive when he’d come down here. Twelve years later, nothing seemed to have changed.
He didn’t stay for long. He didn’t want to abandon Ragnor for the entire afternoon, and he didn’t want to exhaust his enjoyment of the beach in the first few days he was in Valentina. So, after letting himself swim out a few hundred yards and float around in the warm sun, Magnus made his way back to the shore and redressed.
The snap of a twig made Magnus look up, startled. Nobody ever came down to the beach. At least, they never used to. Perhaps things had changed since Magnus had last been there. Perhaps it was the new haunt for teenagers to make out.
He scanned the trees, struggling to see into the shrouded darkness there with the bright sunlight behind him.
A figure came into view, and stopped abruptly. They appeared to be looking right at Magnus.
Magnus blinked. Was that—?
Slowly, the figure continued, until they stepped past the last line of trees and into the sunshine.
“I’m sorry,” Alec said, calling across the distance between them rather than moving any closer. “I didn’t think anyone would be down here.”
Magnus raised his eyebrows. “No. Me neither.”
A sheepish smile softened the corners of Alec’s lips. “Guess we probably should have predicted this, huh?”
“I guess so,” Magnus agreed, although, privately, he didn’t agree at all. What the hell was Alec doing down there? Was it a regular thing for him? If so, god, why?
“I don’t mind leaving,” Alec said. He shifted awkwardly in place. His eyes darted behind Magnus, out to sea, and then back. He didn’t seem to want to hold Magnus’ gaze for more than a few seconds at a time. Truthfully, Magnus didn’t mind: he didn’t particularly want to stare into Alec’s eyes for prolonged periods, either.
Magnus shook his head. “It’s okay. I was just going.”
He bent over to pick up his bag, intent on removing himself from the unbearably uncomfortable situation he’d managed to find himself in. It wasn’t Alec’s fault - of course not, he lived there and he was welcome to go wherever he pleased - but Magnus hadn’t been prepared to run into Alec in Valentina at all, and now he’d seen him twice in three days.
“Magnus, you don’t—” Alec exhaled. It was a sound Magnus was familiar with. It made him look up. “I’m sorry.”
Magnus frowned. “What on earth for? You’re allowed to be here.”
“I’m sure I’m probably the last person you want to see here.”
Yes, Magnus thought, but he smirked instead, and said, “No, Mrs Herondale is much higher on my list. And Alison. You don’t even make it into the top five, really. You’re right behind Jessica Hawkblue.”
At that, Alec spluttered, eyes wide. Magnus grinned unapologetically, and Alec choked on a laugh. The tension between them seemed to ease.
“Well now you’re top of my list of people to avoid,” Alec said, folding his arms and pretending to be put-out. The sparkle in his eyes suggested that he didn’t really mind too much.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Magnus told him, smiling innocently. “Jessica Hawkblue wronged me terribly on all the occasions I didn’t meet her.”
“You should get in touch with Isabelle,” Alec said, shaking his head. “She’s never let me forget Jessica Hawkblue, either.”
“How is Isabelle?” Magnus asked, the words falling from his mouth before he had a chance to think about them. And, strangely, he found that he really did want to know. The last time Magnus had seen Alec’s fierce, beautiful sister, she’d been sixteen and a force to be reckoned with. He’d always liked her. He couldn’t imagine someone like Isabelle being stuck in a town like this for all her adult life.
Then again, he found it difficult to imagine Alec having been here for the last twelve years, too.
A fond smile overtook Alec’s face. “She’s great,” he said. “She’s living in California with Simon, her partner. She ended up doing marine biology. Every time she visits she’s got some incredible new story about things she’s done at work.”
There was so much pride in Alec’s voice. He always had loved his family to death, and it was oddly reassuring to see that that hadn’t changed.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Magnus said, and he meant it. “Look, I feel like I owe you an apology.”
Alec blinked. “For what?”
“How I reacted. Just now, and when I saw you in the pharmacy. I wasn’t expecting— Well. I wasn’t expecting to see you. I had no idea you were even still in town.”
“It’s okay,” Alec said, waving off Magnus’ apology with apparent ease. “In your position, I wouldn’t have expected me to still be in town, either, after all I talked about getting out of here.” He smiled wryly. “If it helps in your avoidance, I don’t normally work in the pharmacy. I’m a doctor. I was just there because I needed to discuss a patient’s medication and Aline knows far more about drugs than I do.”
Well, Magnus supposed that solved one mystery. Although many remained.
“I don’t need to avoid you, Alec,” Magnus said, and—oh. The name tasted odd on his tongue. It was the first time he’d addressed Alec by name in years, and the last time must have been—
He stopped the train of thought before he could start off down that rabbit hole.
Alec shrugged. “It’s okay if you do. I won’t be offended.”
Magnus shook his head. “No. In fact...maybe we could catch up sometime. If you’d like.”
It wasn’t what he’d meant to say. He’d meant to respond with an amusing, reassuring quip. From the way his eyes widened, Alec was as surprised by the suggestion as Magnus. But, perhaps even more surprisingly, Magnus didn’t hurry to take it back.
Sue him, he was curious. He wanted to know what in hell had occurred in the last decade that ended up with Alec Lightwood still stuck in Valentina, a town that he’d spent long, wistful evenings fantasising about fleeing from.
Besides which, he was bound to run into Alec again in the weeks he’d be in Valentina. Far better to get past the awkwardness and face the situation like adults. Once upon a time they’d enjoyed each other’s company. Perhaps they could get to that point again. At least, close enough to last them a few weeks.
“I would very much like,” Alec said, “if you’re sure you would.”
Magnus smiled. “I would. Why don’t you show me somewhere in this abysmal place that does good coffee? Because I think I miss my Nespresso machine even more than I miss my cat.”
Alec let out a laugh. “Alright, challenge accepted. I’ll text you. Tomorrow? I’ve got the whole weekend off.”
“Tomorrow,” Magnus agreed. “You need my phone number.”
“Ah.” Alec pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it with his thumb, and started scrolling, eyes moving quickly across the screen. “I’ve probably still got it somewhere– Yeah. Have you changed it?”
Magnus felt like he’d been doused with a bucket of cold water. Of course Alec still had his phone number. Why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t like Magnus regularly went through his contacts and deleted old numbers he didn’t use. But...twelve years.
Did he still have Alec’s number? Probably. He’d changed his phone maybe half a dozen times since he’d last texted Alec, but Magnus couldn’t help but wonder what the last text they’d sent each other had been. He certainly remembered the last time he’d seen Alec in person. Had they stayed in touch for a while after that?
“No,” Magnus said, in response to Alec’s question. “No, I haven’t changed it.”
Alec smiled. His eyes crinkled at the corners. It wasn’t age—they’d always done that. Magnus remembered it all too well. He’d always found it endearing.
“I’ll text you, then,” Alec confirmed, sliding his phone back into the pocket of his shorts.
Magnus inclined his head in a nod, and glanced behind Alec, up the rocky pathway that would lead him back to town. “I’d better go. I’m sure Ragnor has things for me to do.”
“Of course.” Alec’s smile softened. “I’m glad we ran into each other again.”
“Me too,” Magnus said, offering Alec a smile in return.
And, somewhat alarmingly, he found that he meant it.
***
“Need me to come rescue you yet?”
Magnus grinned at his phone screen as Catarina Loss, his best friend and one of the few people in the world privy to his messy history, picked up his FaceTime call. She looked tired—she’d probably come off a night shift at the hospital not long ago.
“Give it another week,” Magnus said. “How’s Chairman?”
Catarina rolled her eyes and muttered some comment that crackled over the mediocre wifi connection in Ragnor’s house. She flipped the camera and pointed it at the parquet floor of Magnus’ beloved New York apartment, where his equally-beloved cat was curled up beside the coffee table.
“He’s fine,” Catarina said, turning the camera back around so Magnus could see her. “He’s a cat. How’s the middle of nowhere?”
“Sadly, very boring,” Magnus said, and briefly complained about all the boring errands he was running for Ragnor. “Oh. And I’ve run into Alec. Twice.”
Catarina’s brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, and then her expression cleared. “Oh. Oh. The Alec?”
“How many Alecs have I mentioned?” Magnus asked dryly. “Yes, the Alec.”
“I thought he left like you did?”
“Yes,” Magnus agreed. “So did I.”
“I suppose it’s quite hard to avoid someone in that place. Although, if he wants to avoid you, too—”
“We’re getting a coffee later.”
Catarina fell silent. She stared at Magnus through the screen with those unsettlingly piercing eyes of hers. Magnus felt abruptly sorry for all the patients who’d ever been on the receiving end of that look. He felt certain Catarina made an excellent nurse, but, fuck, if he were her patient, he’d be terrified.
“Right,” Catarina said slowly. “Because— I can’t even think of a sarcastic suggestion. Why?”
Magnus shrugged. “Why not?”
Catarina narrowed her eyes. Magnus sighed.
“Sue me, I’m curious. I want to know what happened to him. Clearly, it’s something, if he’s back here. Ragnor made it sound like he’s never left. But he did. I know he did.” Magnus smiled wryly. “I watched him get on the plane.”
After a pause, Catarina’s only contribution was an unduly serious, “Be careful.”
Magnus let out a startled laugh. “What do I need to be careful of?”
“I didn’t know you in high school, but from what you’ve told me, Valentina holds a lot of history for you. And Alec seemed to play a pretty central part.”
“It was twelve years ago,” Magnus said, waving a hand dismissively. “I don’t think Alec Lightwood has the power to hurt me after twelve years.”
“Just be careful, Magnus. You always get caught up wanting to help people. You have a habit of forgetting about yourself. And if Alec has some tragic backstory...”
She trailed off. Magnus didn’t need her to finish. He knew what she was implying. But his time in Valentina had a definite expiration date. His entire life was in New York, and he’d always hated this town. He wasn’t staying. He wasn’t going to get caught up in things here. How could he, when he spent all his time longing for home?
He was curious about Alec’s story. He wanted to understand how he’d come to this point, which was so diametrically opposed to what he’d wanted at age seventeen.
Nothing more than that.
***
Alec was exactly on time the following day, because of course he was. How could Magnus have forgotten? He used to apologise for being more than two minutes late, much to everyone else’s bemusement—especially Magnus, who’d had to kick his terrible teenage habit of turning up late when Alec had become a permanent fixture in his life.
He pulled up outside Ragnor’s house in an old silver Porsche with the roof down. Magnus arched an eyebrow in amusement as he watched through the living room window. Alec had always had a little bit of an adrenaline addiction. A sports car seemed quite on brand.
“Have fun,” Ragnor called, as Magnus opened the front door. It felt horrifyingly like being sixteen again.
Magnus decided now wasn’t the time to have an existential crisis about it.
Alec had dark sunglasses pulled down over his eyes, and he smiled at Magnus as he climbed into the passenger side of the car. It felt as strange as all his interactions with Alec: he remembered the first time Alec had picked him up in a beaten-up Ford Fiesta that had probably been worth less than the jacket Magnus had stashed in his bag, right after he’d first got his licence.
“Ready?” Alec asked, in lieu of a greeting.
“That depends on which terrible establishment you’re taking me to. My standards are high after a decade in New York.”
“Mine are low after a decade of working in healthcare,” Alec replied, grinning, “but I think you’ll like this place.”
Magnus couldn’t remember any particularly wonderful coffee-serving place in Valentina, but he didn’t want to dampen Alec’s enthusiasm by being rude. It wasn’t Alec’s fault that Magnus hated this town infinitesimally more than he hated Republican politicians.
To Magnus’ surprise, Alec didn’t drive into the town centre, where most of the shops and restaurants were sprawled along a single street and one or two side roads. They headed along the coastal highway that headed out of Valentina, and, for just a moment, Magnus thought Alec might be taking him somewhere genuinely exciting. But, after a couple of minutes, he signalled to turn off at a tiny little junction Magnus had hardly noticed when he’d driven into Valentina.
“It might not live up to New York City’s standards,” Alec said, as he parked outside a quaint little cafe with chairs and tables in various shades of pastel situated out in the blazing sunshine, “but it’s only been open for a couple of years, and it’s a hell of a lot better than anything we used to have. Also, quieter.”
It did have character, Magnus thought, saying as much as Alec pushed open the door with his shoulder. The decorations were loud without being garish—something Magnus had always appreciated.
“Trouble returns,” said a woman standing in front of the cake and pastries counter, holding a tray of croissants. She had long, dyed blonde hair and was wearing an apron in pink, purple and blue. Magnus wondered whether the colour scheme was coincidental or deliberate. Her jeans were cuffed. She glanced at Magnus and gasped in mock shock. Her eyes were exaggeratedly wide and glinting with mischief as she turned them on Alec. “And what is this? Is this a friend? Alec.”
“Shut up,” Alec told her firmly, but there was a twitch at the corner of his mouth that told Magnus he didn’t really mind too much. “This is Magnus. Magnus, this is Helen. My friend and royal pain in my backside.”
“I’m going to tell Aline you said that,” Helen said, and then, to Magnus: “Aline is my wife. She’s the pharmacist in town.”
“You might remember her, if you met her again,” Alec added. “She was the year below us at school.”
Helen didn’t say anything in response to Alec’s statement. Magnus wondered whether that meant Alec had told her about Magnus. If so, what exactly had he said? What would Magnus have said, in his position?
“It’s lovely to meet you,” was what Magnus decided to settle on, offering Helen a polite smile.
“Ditto,” she replied. Her smile seemed genuine. “Would you like a coffee? Cake?”
Five minutes later, Magnus and Alec were seated outside, shaded by the tarpaulin cover, with two cappuccinos and Helen’s best selection of cakes to try. Although, Magnus got the impression that Alec was quite familiar with their food already.
“Does it pass the test?” Alec asked, as Magnus took a sip of his coffee.
“You know, it does. I’m pleasantly surprised.”
Alec let out a laugh. “I’ll be sure to tell Helen that real New Yorkers like her coffee. She’s from the next town over.”
God. Small towns. Helen moving a whole town away had probably been a huge deal for her family, who’d almost certainly lived in the same half-mile radius for generations and thought a trip to the nearest big city was an adventure.
“So.” Alec set his cup down and looked up at Magnus with considered curiosity. “What have you been doing since you left this place?”
Magnus’ lips twisted into a wry smile. “Not law,” he admitted, because that would have been his life plan when he’d last spoken to Alec. “I did my undergrad, applied to law school, and lasted about three months before I threw in the towel. I worked in a hair salon while I was at university, so I went back to that while I worked out what I wanted to do with my life, and then I ended up setting up my own salon. We specialise in clients who are undergoing or have recently finished cancer treatment.”
“That seems like a good fit for you,” Alec said, something soft in his dark, endless eyes. Magnus wonders if he’s going to bring up Magnus’ mother, but he doesn't. “I thought about Googling you, but then I thought that would be rude.”
Magnus snorted. “I don’t think many people would pay the same courtesy. I wouldn’t have minded.”
He took another sip of his coffee, mostly just so he had something to do with his hands. Sitting across from Alec like this, chatting like it wasn’t a big deal, was easy and impossible all at once. It made Magnus a little nervous. He wasn’t sure what Alec wanted, here. God, he wasn’t sure what he wanted, either. Were they just old friends catching up? Was Alec just trying to be nice, because he could guess how tough it was for Magnus to be back in town?
“What about you?” Magnus asked. “The medicine thing worked out for you, clearly.”
“It did,” Alec agreed with a sheepish smile. “Well. More or less. I didn’t really expect to end up working here for my whole life after I’d run off to study in Los Angeles. I had tentative plans for a stint in Australia. But...” He trailed off and shrugged. “That’s just how life works out sometimes.”
Alec didn’t meet Magnus’ gaze. Instead, he stared down into his coffee unseeingly. Magnus felt a pang of sympathy for him. Something had happened, clearly. Ragnor knew about whatever it was. And Magnus didn’t want to pry, but, god help him, was it really so bad to ask? Alec knew all about the darkest years of his life. Alright, perhaps they hadn’t been that sort of close for years, but surely some echo of trust remained?
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Magnus said, “but can I ask–why did you end up back here? I remember how much you wanted to leave.”
Alec’s eyes flickered up to Magnus. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Don’t you know?”
Magnus shook his head. “How could I?”
“Well, Ragnor knows, so I assumed...” Alec stopped at Magnus’ blank expression. “He’s really never told you? All these years and you had no idea?”
Magnus shook his head slowly. “No. As far as I knew, you were off on some beautiful beach in LA sunning yourself in between saving babies.”
A ghost of a smile flickered at the corner of Alec’s mouth. It faded rather too quickly for Magnus’ liking.
“Not quite. I mean, I did, for a while. I went to university there, and got my medical degree there. Then I came home and trained at the hospital in the city. It’s only been recently that I finished my residency and started working in town, actually.”
“Small town family doctor is quite different from west coast paediatrician,” Magnus said gently.
“My brother died,” Alec said, and Magnus felt his heart thud. “Max. I don’t know if you remember him. I was still at medical school. He had leukaemia, and they were so sure they could cure him. But they didn’t. He died, and my family fell apart. My parents divorced. It broke Jace. Isabelle—she was always strong, but she wanted to grieve in her own way. She refused to come back. So I did.”
“So you kept it together for all of them.”
“I’m not sure how well I managed that, but I tried. My mom’s never been the same since. It was five years ago.”
“I’m so sorry,” Magnus said, because what else was there to say? No placation or careful selection of soothing words could make that sort of loss any easier. Magnus knew that far better than most. “I’m so sorry you all had to go through that. I’m sorry you were the one who had to be strong.”
“It’s been long enough that it doesn’t hurt quite so much anymore,” Alec said, and shot Magnus a weak smile. “I’m sure you understand what I mean.”
Magnus wanted to say yes. To an extent, he did understand what Alec meant. But when faced with his own loss, Magnus had done the opposite to Alec: he’d run away at the earliest opportunity. He’d buried his head in the sand and distracted himself with other things. He’d refused to grieve in a healthy way, because he’d been a stupid, stubborn teenager who’d made Ragnor’s life damn near impossible.
Distance and time had dulled the ache in Magnus’ chest that would never truly be alleviated. But being back in Valentina made it sharper.
“Yes,” Magnus said, rather than admitting that he still had many of the same demons he had at age eighteen. “I do.”
Alec sat back and gestured around them. “So, here I am. That’s why I came back here after our great escape.”
His grin was a little forced. Magnus noticed immediately.
“You’ve never thought about going anywhere else?” Magnus asked. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was probing. He was even less sure that it was his place to do so. But, really, what did it matter if he fell out with Alec or offended him or said entirely the wrong thing? He was only going to be in Valentina for a few weeks. After that, they’d probably never see each other again.
Alec’s grin faded. “I have,” he admitted, “once or twice. But I can’t. I can’t leave my family. That’s what my dad did, after Max, and I can’t be like him.”
Privately, Magnus thought that even as a teenager it had been quite obvious that Robert Lightwood was a grade A asshole in a way that Alec could never be, even if he tried. But Magnus had probably dug into the topic enough for one day. Alec’s choices were his business. It had nothing to do with Magnus. Not anymore.
“You should try the lemon cake,” Alec said, effectively signalling the end of that conversation. “It’s Helen’s specialty. She and Aline had it as their wedding cake.”
It was good, Magnus agreed. Better, even, than plenty of cakes he’d tried in New York.
“There’s a cafe in the building next to mine,” Magnus said, and let out an exaggerated moan. “Best food I have ever tasted in my life. All these chains could never. It’s decadent. Should be illegal. They probably put crack in it, but I don’t care.”
Alec laughed. “I’m not sure the residents of Valentina are ready to have addictive substances in their baked goods.”
“They need a little more adventure in their lives,” Magnus said, quirking an eyebrow at Alec in mischief. “Things get a little slow and sluggish out here. It would liven everything up.”
“It’s not so bad,” Alec said, still smiling.
Magnus scoffed. “You couldn’t pay me enough to live here. There is absolutely nothing in the world that could make me move back. I’d airlift Ragnor to New York and buy him his own damn apartment before I returned.”
To Magnus’ surprise, that made Alec choke on his coffee and sent him off into a slightly hysterical bout of laughter. Magnus watched in amusement. Alec still laughed in the same way—smile stretching across his entire face, eyes crinkling, his entire body seeming to contribute to the action. It was just a little bit entrancing.
It always had been.
“So.” Alec sat back a little and studied him with an unnerving intensity. “Is there someone waiting for you back home?”
Magnus flashed him a smile that he knew didn’t reach his eyes. “My cat.”
Alec returned his smile indulgently. “I meant a human someone, but I suppose furry companions are good too.”
“I don’t really do relationships any more.” At Alec’s questioning look, Magnus shrugged. “They’ve never worked out well for me. Things always go tits up, and, frankly, I don’t have the time or the energy to waste on that. If it happens, that’s nice. If not, I’m happy as I am.”
He paused for breath as he realised that that had perhaps been a bit much to blurt out all in one go. Wasn’t that always his problem? People - partners - always told him that they liked him, but he was just too much. Not that Magnus had ever truly understood what that meant. Too much personality? Too much affection? Too much femininity? Too much confidence?
Alec, to his credit, didn’t look perturbed by Magnus’ mini rant. He was chewing thoughtfully on a slice of cake. Somewhat hysterically, Magnus wondered if this was what Alec was like when he sat in his doctor’s office listening to panicked, overthinking patients who’d Googled their symptoms and were now convinced they had some terrible disease.
“It’s good that you know what you want,” was what Alec said, after he’d swallowed. “You shouldn’t let people mess you around.”
“No,” Magnus agreed. He’d learnt that the hard way, soon after he’d moved to New York. Camille’s on-again, off-again attitude to their relationship had, with hindsight, been a huge red flag. At the time, he’d been too in love with her to care. Even though it had never really felt like—
Well. Magnus always put that down to teenage infatuation. Adult relationships were different.
“What about you?” Magnus asked, because it was the polite thing to do more than because he really wanted to hear about Alec’s husband or boyfriend.
“Not anymore,” Alec said, and Magnus blinked.
“Not anymore?”
“I nearly got married. Then Max died while we were engaged, and I had to come back here, and my relationship fell apart. Absolute disaster.” He nodded at Magnus. “Tits up, as you said. I haven’t had anything much since.”
“I’m sorry.”
Alec shook his head, eyes sparkling. “I’m not. Really, I’m not. It shows you who’ll really be there for you, going through something like that.” He picked up his coffee mug and gestured vaguely with it. “Ragnor. Hadn’t spoken to him since– Well, since around when I last spoke to you, I suppose. He tried to make sure we were doing okay.”
At least that explained one mystery that had arisen since he’d arrived back in Valentina, Magnus mused.
“Ragnor always liked you,” Magnus said, and then snorted. “More than he liked me.”
“Now, we both know that’s not true. He didn’t even yell at you when we got caught drinking. My mom went ballistic.”
They both laughed at the memory. They’d only been sixteen, and it hadn’t been a couple of teenagers drinking beer on the beach. It had started that way, but a friend had brought vodka, and soon the entire town’s teenage population had been drinking around a bonfire. Ragnor had given Magnus a lecture the next morning, of course, and played the not-angry-just-disappointed card. Alec had been read the riot act, and Magnus had barely seen him for a month afterwards.
“We should probably head back soon,” Alec said, sounding a little regretful, once they’d finished Helen’s cake samples and her surprisingly lovely coffee.
Magnus agreed. After bidding Helen goodbye, they made their way back to Alec’s car. Every time Magnus got in his own car in Valentina, he sat there sweltering for five minutes with the air con on full blast: Alec’s open-top arrangement avoided that problem, for which Magnus was exceedingly grateful.
“Ragnor is making me paint the landing this week,” Magnus said suddenly. “I don’t know if you still like that sort of thing, but if you’ve got a day off...”
Alec raised an eyebrow. “I have Thursday afternoon off. I can help out.”
“Only if you want to. I don’t want to rope you into doing Ragnor’s dirty work against your will.”
Alec laughed. “I don’t think I’d classify painting as dirty work. I’ll be there.”
Magnus smiled at him. Alec smiled back. Their gazes held for a heartbeat, and then Alec blinked, and drew his eyes away from Magnus to back the car out.
***