Archive of Our Own

.one

“You can’t do this, not when I’m-”

“Alec, please, you have to let go, they -”

“I know you lo-”

.five

Alec doesn’t want to open his eyes.

He splays a hand on the sheets and knows they’re not his own with bone-deep certainty. They’re far more expensive, silk and smooth beneath his bare chest. The covers are pulled down, his back exposed to the cool air of the bedroom, and Alec swallows. The first time he was embarrassed; the second he’d been too freaked out to care.

This time, he takes his time; he stretches, takes up as much of the bed as he likes. He knows Magnus won’t be in the bed, knows he’s out in the kitchen, pretending the breakfast he magicked from the diner down the street is his own cooking.

Cracking open an eye, Alec takes in the room. Before today (yesterday, the day before, the day before), Alec could never have pictured himself here, whether because he would have decided not to out of self-preservation, or because he’s always been desperate not to focus too much on what he wants because he shouldn’t want it. Either way, he’s here now.

Humming drifts in through the open door before a tentative, “Alexander?”

Alec shifts until he can see the outline of Magnus in the doorway. Fingers clenching unconsciously around the sheets, Alec turns onto his back, covers falling away, leaving little to the imagination. Alec’s never been this brave, never been given cause to be, but drawing Magnus back into bed would be a benefit and a relief.

Leaning against the doorjamb, Magnus gives him a knowing look. “Breakfast is going to get cold.”

“Let it,” Alec says, his voice dry. He swallows, forces his fingers to release the sheets. He scrubs a hand through his hair and swears he sees red. Years of practice keep the panic from showing on his face, but he has to close his eyes for a beat. Forcing his mouth into a smile, he gestures at the bed. “Come back to bed?”

There’s an unreadable expression on Magnus’ face. It’s taken them an age to get this point, and even though Valentine is still out there, still a threat, Alec’s been desperate to know Magnus, to shape life around someone who cares about Alec and everything he is. The look Magnus gives him is knowing, and while Alec’s heart beats just that little bit faster with the knowledge that someone cares about him enough to gauge his moods without prompting, a part of him doesn’t want Magnus to know.

Bare feet making no sound on the carpet, Magnus crosses the room, sitting on the edge of the bed close to Alec’s head. Alec sees a flash of blue varnish as Magnus raises a hand to run it through Alec’s hair, already in disarray from sleep. “Something’s wrong.”

Alec swallows again, closes his eyes against the feel of Magnus’ fingers. Before this, before Magnus, Alec hadn’t even known it was something he liked. He is learning so much about himself, and he doesn’t want that to stop, doesn’t want to lose Magnus. He doesn’t reply, can’t make himself lie. He reaches for Magnus, one hand on his neck, the other on his knee.

Magnus leans in, brushes a barely-there kiss against Alec’s lips. “Breakfast?”

“No,” Alec says, before he’s even thought about it. “Can’t we just--”

“Alexander.” Magnus knows what that does to Alec, the way his name sounds, the inflection Magnus puts on it. “Tell me.”

Alec doesn’t say I can’t or I don’t know how. He just pulls Magnus in for a proper kiss, fingers clutching the wrong side of too hard against Magnus’ neck. He’s desperate, wants to drown in this moment, forget that in four, five, six hours, everything will be different. Magnus sinks into the kiss, despite his worry, and Alec’s grateful. It means he doesn’t have to explain, doesn’t have to find words he isn’t sure he has.

“Breakfast,” Alec says finally, because if he stays in bed for too much longer, Magnus will pull the truth from him.

Wary at the quick shift in Alec’s mood, Magnus pulls Alec up and out of the bed. Alec’s naked, and though he flushes from the heated gaze Magnus gives him, he reaches for his pants. He forgoes a shirt, and as Magnus turns to lead him from the bedroom, Alec catches his hand, threads their fingers together. If Magnus is surprised, he hides it well.

This is the first time Alec’s had the presence of mind to enjoy breakfast; he takes his time with the food, watches Magnus like he’s going to disappear the instant Alec stops looking. He’s giving too much away, knows he’s being clingy in ways he shouldn’t be, but it’s so easy.

The clock on the wall is ticking ever closer, minutes sliding into hours too soon, and Alec pushes his plate away. “I have to go.”

“I know there’s something wrong,” Magnus says, as Alec stands. He’d dropped the glamour from his eyes the first time Alec stayed over, apprehension clear on his face, but Alec had - and still - found them as much Magnus as his magic, or his style. This time they hold something deeper, a knowledge that Alec can’t ever hope to match. He rounds the table, touches a hand to Alec’s face. Alec leans into it, makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. “Whatever it is, promise that you’ll be careful.”

Alec opens his mouth to speak, and then closes it just as quickly. He doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to (re)live the next few hours. He gets a grip on his emotions, even though he’s sure Magnus can see them flash across his face anyway. “I’m always careful.”

Magnus doesn’t say anything else, just leans in for another kiss, drawing it out until Alec has to step away, has to leave.

“I’m sorry,” Alec says, closing the door on Magnus’ confused face.

.six

Alec’s footsteps echo in the alley, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

He’s going to be too late, he’s always too late, he can never -

Bursts of blue, silhouettes of Izzy, Jace, Clary, the sound of weapons, heavy breathing and the cry of -

Alec skids around the corner, bow cocked and he knows he’s not going to be able to make it, knows the timing is wrong, always wrong, but he fires anyway and -

The demon goes down, and for one heart-stopping moment Alec thinks he’s actually managed to -

Something dark starts to spread across the impeccable blue shirt Magnus put on that morning, and Alec thinks no, no, no, as Magnus drops his arms to his sides, his face blank with -

“Alex-”

The word cuts off as Magnus crumples -

- Alec catches him, like he did the first, third, fifth time and presses a kiss to his forehead. He closes his eyes, drowns out everything but the fading thud of Magnus’ heartbeat against his thumb and tries to think -

“Not again,” Alec whispers into the space between them. “Please, Magnus, I-”

Magnus doesn’t hear a word.

.eight

“Izzy, please.”

Izzy looks at him, searching his face for things he won’t reveal to her. “What’s going on, Alec?”

“I need you to promise you’ll watch him.” Alec knows Magnus deserves to be told about this, to know what’s going to happen, but he needs Magnus to be safe. Maybe if Izzy’s with him everything will be fine.

“I will.” Izzy brushes a kiss against his temple and Alec leaves.

He knows how it goes down; knows Valentine sends the demons, puts mundanes in danger and isn’t that why shadowhunters exist? He, Clary, Jace - they all go after them, sometimes with Izzy, sometimes with Simon, and then Magnus comes because Alec asks - because of Alec, because he knows with magic they can save the people ten times as fast.

This time he won’t bring Magnus.

It doesn’t make a difference;

Izzy calls Alec, screams, Alec can hear the roar of something demonic, hears something altogether worse when Magnus gasps out his last -

Alec feels the anger before the grief, both familiar and unwelcome, and latches onto it. He shoots arrow after arrow, overkill in ways he’s never used before. Jace looks at him, something dark and worried in his eyes, but Alec ignores it. He shakes off the hand Clary rests on his arm, feels something vindictive and justified settle in his stomach as he slices his blade across the demon’s throat.

They deserve it, he thinks. He can’t even save Magnus when he leaves him with Izzy, and he doesn’t know why this is happening, doesn’t know how to make it stop. Maybe if he tells Magnus -

.nine

“You’re going to die.”

Magnus gives him a strange look. He’s pressing against Alec in all the best ways, but all Alec can think about is the blood seeping through his fingers, the light dying in eyes he’s just starting to love. “I don’t-”

“I won’t be able to stop it,” Alec continues, hands shaking as he cups Magnus’ face. He digs deep for the anger, but finds only the bone deep terror of knowing he’s going to lose Magnus. “You die and I never get there in time.”

There’s a myriad of emotions on Magnus’ face, and he rocks back onto his heels, hips strategically placed to not distract Alec. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve done this so many times,” Alec says, almost to himself. “The first time I thought - and then I woke up and it was the same day, and you still died. I’ve done it again and again and no matter what I do, it just keeps happening.”

Magnus looks serious, eyes narrowing just a little as he takes in Alec’s story. ”What happens?”

Alec doesn’t know how he finds the words, but he does. Everything is still too raw, a replay he’s watched over and over, like a DVD stuck on the intro menu. “The third time I spent the whole day in the alley, but the fight just took place somewhere else. I don’t understand why this is happening.”

“Magic,” Magnus says. He’s frowning, staring down at Alec’s hands. He lifts them to his lips and presses a kiss to each, before holding them close to his chest. “I need you to tell me what happened the first time, in more detail.”

“I can’t.” Alec doesn’t want to think about it; the first time is still vivid. He remembers the morning, his embarrassment giving way to fondness as Magnus offered him breakfast. He remembers leaving, snatching a kiss that lasted too long to be chaste. He remembers grinning his way to the Institute, obvious and daring as he entered. He remembers the call, the demons, begging Magnus to help, and the crackle of magic in a darkened alley. He remembers the blade sliding into Magnus, the life bleeding from his body, the way Jace’s hand had burned against his shoulder. He doesn’t remember what happened after that, only that somehow he was in the Institute, hands still bloody. Washing them had seemed too much like washing away Magnus.

Magnus lets the silence hang between them, though it never grows uncomfortable. Alec wants to know what he’s thinking, desperate to know he’s not crazy. Eventually, he tugs on Alec’s hands. “Come on.”

Alec lets himself be led through the condo into the living area, lets himself be pushed down onto the couch. Magnus stands over him, wiggles his fingers in the familiar way he has when he’s performing magic. “What are you going to do?”

“There are ways to know if there’s a spell in effect,” Magnus says, offhandedly. He waves a hand, blue energy dancing over his fingertips. Alec’s always fascinated by it, wants to know more about how it works; where it comes from, the price Magnus has to pay to use it, the beauty in the performance. He just wants to know Magnus. Alec watches him work, eyes tracking the movements Magnus makes with his hands before he drops them to his sides.

“So?” Alec asks.

Expression grim, Magnus paces the length of the couch. He keeps his eyes on Alec the entire time, but Alec doesn’t know what he’s looking for. “It is magic. I don’t know the origin.”

Alec’s stomach drops. He’s been desperately hoping - “Is there a way to find out?”

“I’m not the best at this kind of magic,” Magnus admits, looking mad at himself. “It’s powerful magic, the high warlock kind, but it’s nothing I recognise. If I know the spell, I can reverse it. Unless I do…”

Alec will lose Magnus again.

“I can’t watch you die again,” Alec blurts out. He rubs his hands against his knees, looks up at Magnus through his lashes. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Magnus drops down onto the couch next to him, presses a hand to his face. Alec’s felt it so many times before, but he never tires of it. Curling his fingers around Magnus’s wrist, Alec closes his eyes, lets himself feel.

He doesn’t know how long they sit that way before Magnus pulls him in for a kiss. It feels too much like an apology.

eleven.

“You said it was magic.” Alec sits with his back to the headboard, Magnus cross-legged at the opposite end of the bed. “That you didn’t recognise the spell.”

If Alec looks too long at his hands, he sees red.

Magnus doesn’t say anything for a long time. “What else did I say?”

“That if you could figure it out, you’d know how to reverse it..” Alec wants it to stop. He doesn’t tell Magnus that can was much less certain the last time around. “I need to stop it. I can’t-”

“I promise we’ll find a way,” Magnus says. He doesn’t touch Alec, doesn’t look him in the eye.

Alec doesn’t know what that means, but he nods, grateful that at least Magnus believes him.

thirteen.

“Ragnor was much better at determining the origins of spells,” Magnus says, sorrow deep in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” Alec says, into the curve of his neck. He clings, he touches, he wants.

They have sex right up until an hour before. They’re making out against the door when the time ticks down to half an hour, fifteen minutes. Ten, and they’re waiting in the kitchen, eyes watching the steady tick, tick, tick of the second hand.

A yell. The door flies off its hinges. Demons. Jace, Izzy, Clary. Magnus’ blood, Alec’s heart, Enough.

fourteen.

Alec asks for another team to be sent to help the mundanes.

He spends the day clock watching, nervous, angry and tired in equal measure.

His Parabatai bond flares not long before time and Alec feels it when Jace goes.

He gets a call from Clary, but it’s Simon, his voice broken and sad. Izzy. Jace. Clary.

“-and Magnus,” Simon says.

“Why?” Alec wants to throw his phone across the room, wants to break everything, hurt something.

There’s a long pause, Simon sobs down the handset. “He said you’d never let him live it down if he didn’t help protect Jace and Izzy.”

Because of Alec.

His phone shatters against the wall.

fifteen. sixteen.

Alec runs.

twenty-one.

“Alec?”

Alec’s forehead is pressed to his knees, eyes closed. His hands are clenched around fistfuls of his hair. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“We’ll find a way to-”

“You said that last time,” Alec snaps. He pushes away from the wall, unbalancing Magnus enough that he has to press a hand to the floor to keep from falling over. “You tell me you know it’s magic, that there has to be a way to find the origin of the spell, but that you can’t. A dead warlock can, but that doesn’t help me, Magnus. I watch you bleed and die, again and again. I don’t want to see that anymore!”

Magnus looks startled by the outburst, though he stands slowly, eyes narrowed. When he speaks, it’s slowly, like he’s testing the words before he says them. “You can’t give up, Alexander. I promise, there-”

“Stop it.” Alec’s voice is a threat, low and deadly. “You can’t promise anything. You don’t know, you can’t help, and I still have to live this day again!”

“What would you have me do?” Magnus spreads his hands, the eternal gesture of surrender.

“Stop dying.” Alec’s voice hitches on the words, and as Magnus reaches for him, he ducks out of the way. “I can’t do this. I can’t be here.”

He retreats. He runs. He wants to hide, but he’s done that, knows no matter where he goes, Magnus will still be dead and he’ll wake in the condo in Brooklyn, the smell and feel of Magnus all around him.

Alec doesn’t think there’s much more of his heart to break.

twenty-five.

“What if I die too?”

Magnus grips his arms in a hold that’s painful. It grounds him more than words ever could. “No.”

Alec growls low in his throat. “Why do I have to be the one to suffer? Why can’t you?”

Shocked into silence, Magnus looks like Alec’s outright punched him. Alec should apologise, feels the guilt blossom in his chest, but he’s done with this. “Alexander, please.”

“If you don’t help me get out of this, I’ll do it.” It’s an unfair threat; Magnus won’t even remember this when Alec wakes up, but it’s all he has.

Gripping his arms, Magnus looks sad, eyes dark and angry. “When I find whoever is doing this...”

He lets the threat hang. Alec wants to cling to it, desperately wants it to be true.

twenty-seven.

Alec brushes a lock of hair back from Magnus’ face.

He doesn’t cry, his hands don’t even shake.

Maybe this is it. Maybe this is where Alec ends, where he stops. He can’t take this, can’t escape, can’t.

twenty-eight.

Magnus doesn’t agree.

Alec wants to punch him, wants to kiss him. He wants to lay down and forget everything.

Magnus kisses him before the call comes in and Alec savours the taste. He nuzzles into Magnus’ hairline, fingers smoothing down the hair at the nape of his neck. He tries to memorize everything, feels numb as he kisses an eye, his cheek, his lips. Alec’s heart feels heavy as he pulls away, automatically reaching for his phone before it even rings.

He knows to expect it; watches the demons corner them in the alley.

Alec can call every move, predict every word. When Magnus raises his hands, blue with magic, Alec knows there’s a demon coming up behind him, sword raised.

Stepping between them is effortless.

“Alec.” He’s never heard anyone sound like that before, not even when he’d fallen from a tree when he was nine, trying to stop Jace being an idiot. Izzy had screamed and his parents had yelled, but Magnus sounds - he sounds distraught, broken, like everything is-

Magnus cradles him, though it jars Alec’s wound and he whimpers. It’s pathetic and stupid but he knows, knows he did okay. It will end now because he’s saved Magnus, done what he was supposed to.

“It’s okay,” he says, voice weak and tight. “You’re okay.”

“No,” Magnus disagrees, thumb resting against Alec’s cheekbone. “I’m not.”

Alec wants to ask why, but can’t make his mouth work. He can hear people sobbing, the sound of blades. A litany of faces; Izzy kissing his cheek, Clary burying her face in his arm, Jace looking distraught. It’s Magnus, though, who keeps Alec’s gaze on him. Magnus who kisses him long and drawn out, tears smearing makeup on both of them.

I saved you, Alec thinks, closing his eyes.

twenty-nine.

Alec bites down on the pillow to drown out his screams.

Magnus slides hands into his hair, whispers sweet nothings in his ear.

“You’re going to die,” Alec says, tries not to remember how many times he’s said that.

Seeing Alec’s expression, Magnus places his hands on Alec’s cheeks, brushing away the dampness clinging to his bottom lashes and shakes his head. “No.”

It’s nothing Alec hasn’t heard a hundred times, but this time is different. Magnus tightens his hold, eyes searching for something. Alec’s so tired, so worn and he wants to be free, wants tomorrow to come.

“Look at me,” Magnus says, drawing Alec’s chin up. When his eyes meet Magnus’ brilliant cat’s eyes, Alec swallows thickly, but not quick enough to stop the broken sob falling between them. “Did I do any magic on you?”

“The seventh time,” Alec says, uncertain. “You said you knew I’d been put under a spell, but you didn’t know who created it. Since then you’ve asked, you’ve borrowed, you’ve tried. You don’t know whose spell it is, don’t recognise anything.”

Magnus looks thunderous, his eyes narrowed and fingers tightening imperceptibly on Alec’s face. “I’ll kill whoever’s doing this to you.”

He’s said it before, but there’s something different this time around. He looks murderous, angry in ways Alec’s never seen. Something thrums under Alec’s skin to think that this is all for him, that he can make someone feel that way out of protectiveness or worry.

“Magnus-” he starts. He pulls Magnus in, kisses until his mouth is numb. He can’t count how many times they’ve done this now, how many ways he’s tried to kiss and touch his way out of this loop. “How, when you don’t know-?”

Magnus hushes him with another kiss, threads his fingers into Alec’s hair. His grip is loose, soft, and Alec pushes into it. He feels like he’s flying apart in a million different directions, feels like he’ll never stop, he can’t even die. Something in Magnus’ eyes dims, and Alec realises he’s said that all out loud. “Did you-”

“I got between you and a demon,” Alec says, without thinking. Now that he’s started, he can’t stop, and even with the way Magnus is looking at him, his anger bubbles up. “I needed to stop it and isn’t that what I do? I protect people and save them! I thought if I did something different, it would work, but then I wake up here and it’s still the same and I don’t know what to do.”

Making a horrible sound in the back of his throat, Magnus buries his face in Alec’s neck, kisses the skin there. He stays there for a beat, another, and Alec pretends he can’t hear the aborted sobs. He reaches up, touches Magnus on the back of the head, turns until he can nose at Magnus’ temple.

“Help me,” he whispers, and the words sound broken. Magnus pulls away, gathers him up until they’re sitting awkwardly in the middle of the bed, Alec pressing tight against Magnus, his fingers clenching tightly around cotton. Magnus is shaking, or maybe Alec is, but the trembling isn’t enough to pull them apart.

Time is running too fast; there’s never enough time for them to figure out what to do, let alone work out how to make sure Alec can keep the information for the next cycle. He’s tried paper before, but when he wakes up, he’s clutching thin air. He’s tried recordings, but they disappear the next morning.

Magnus works feverishly, desperate to help, and something in Alec’s chest tightens. He feels a little like he’s going crazy, especially when he stops to think for too long. If he can’t even die, how is he ever going to be able to go on, to survive, and -

“Alexander,” Magnus says, pulling Alec down next to him. Alec goes, sinking into the cushions and letting Magnus stroke a hand through his hair, down his neck. “Come back to me.”

Rolling his head along the back of the couch, Alec meets Magnus’ gaze and gives a weak, awful smile. “I’m okay.”

Pained, Magnus rests his thumb against Alec’s cheekbone. “Oh, if that were true, my darling.”

Alec looks at the papers and books spread out over the coffee table. “Have you found anything?”

Distracted by the task at hand, Magnus lets his gaze linger only a second before he launches into an idea. “It’s something you said, about doing it differently. I can’t find the spell because it’s different from its original form. If I know the modifications, I can find out who - or what - is responsible.”

It’s not something he’s brought up before, not something Alec would ever think of, but he’s willing to try anything if it means he doesn’t have to relive the next two hours ever again.

“I can place a spell on you. I know,” he says quickly, at Alec’s pained noise. “I know, Alec, but this is the only way; it will help me find who did this. I can stop it.”

Alec fights down the urge to refuse; he clutches at Magnus’ hand, his hold painfully tight, but Magnus doesn’t even flinch. “Okay.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Magnus says, and if the endearment makes Alec flush and shift uncomfortably, he wants to hear it, wants to take it and shove it down where he can hold it forever. If he gets a forever, he thinks hysterically, that isn’t the same terrifying day over and over.

“Will it last?” Alec wonders, not wanting to wake up to yet another failed attempt to carry over information. “I don’t think I could take it if-”

“There’s a way,” Magnus says.

thirty.

Alec lifts his shirt, lets Magnus see the tattoo etched against his hip. It spirals up into an intricate design that stands out against the runes. Running his fingers over the mark, causing a shiver to run up Alec’s back, Magnus furrows his brow.

“Okay,” he says, holding his hand above the mark. Alec watches the blue sparks turn and jump around his fingers. When he pulls back, Magnus looks down at the mark with eyes that are empty, cold. It makes Alec’s heart leap in his throat.

“You know who’s done this.”

“I’ll kill her,” Magnus says, and it’s not his voice, has nothing of the warmth and fondness that Alec’s used to. He pulls back, fingers sparking with unbidden anger.

“Magnus,” Alec starts, dropping the hem of his t-shirt. “You can’t-”

“I will,” Magnus says, but Alec grips his arms, forces him to look.

“Don’t,” he pleads. “Whatever it is, whoever did it, I need you.”

The words are true, and he slowly watches the emptiness fade from Magnus’ face, a little warmth return to his eyes. He sags a little, expression sad and hurt and guilty all at once. Pressing their foreheads together, Magnus curls a hand around the back of Alec’s neck. “I can fix it.”

Alec’s legs buckle, but Magnus has him, holds him. He wants to cry, the relief so strong he feels sick with it. “I don’t, how can-”

“I promise,” Magnus says, voice thick with emotion. “I’m going to fix this, and you’re going to wake up tomorrow.”

Alec hardly dares hope. “Who did this to me?”

The guilt is back, and Magnus looks reluctant as he says, “Camille.”

“Why?” Alec thinks he knows, could see the look in Camille’s eyes as she draped herself over Magnus.

Magnus freezes, body coiled like he’s poised to run. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

Alec swallows, fingers tightening on Magnus. “Take me.”

“Alec, please.” Magnus says. “I can do this-”

“She did this to me,” Alec snaps, feeling the anger overwhelm him. “I’m going to make her pay, and if you don’t help me, I’ll find her myself.”

Magnus sounds as broken as Alec feels when he says, “Fine.”

“Okay,” Alec says. He needs to not be here, wants to be free.

thirty.

Camille’s smile makes Alec want to stake her through the heart. “What a pleasant surprise, Magnus.” Her gaze lingers on Alec. “And you’ve brought your boy toy. I feel lucky.”

“You shouldn’t,” Magnus snarls. He visibly crackles with energy, and Alec thinks if Camille weren’t crazy, she’d be terrified.

“So you discovered my little spell then,” Camille says, sounding delighted. “I wondered how long it would take. What’s it been for you, shadowhunter, twelve? Thirteen?”

Alec bites down on the thirty before he can say it. He doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction. He wishes he had his bow, sword, anything. He wants to watch the life bleed from her, like he’s had to watch it bleed from Magnus. He’s tired, furious and wants to be done.

A ball of energy grazes Camille’s cheek as she turns to address Alec again. Her eyes widen a fraction in surprise before she gets control of herself, glaring at Magnus. Eyes dark in fury, Magnus lets another ball dance over his fingers. Under any other circumstances, he would be beautiful. “Don’t talk to him.”

“Why?” Camille gets a gleam in her eye and it makes Alec’s hair stand on end. “Why shouldn’t I tell him how you’re responsible for this?”

“What are you talking about?” Magnus grates out. “I did no such thing.”

Camille tips back her head and laughs. “Oh, Magnus. Remember 1884? I wanted to relive that wonderful night in Berlin and you told me you had just the thing.”

Alec watches Magnus freeze, the energy dissipates from his hands. No. He wouldn’t-

“It was a memory loop,” Magnus says, his voice faint. “It couldn’t-”

“Not on its own.” Camille turns her gaze on Alec and she looks delighted, runs her tongue over her teeth. He feels anger clawing at his throat, wants to scream at her, kill her. “You’d be surprised what vampire blood and a little money will get you from a warlock who isn’t quite so reluctant to make something hurt.”

“Why?” Alec manages, needing to know why she’d trap him there. It should have been Magnus.

Any guilt Alec feels about thinking that is destroyed when she says, “Because I can. Because Magnus will always be a liability to you, will always be a means to hurt you.”

Magnus says something else, but there’s a roaring in Alec’s ears when he looks at him. Everything crashes around inside his head; Magnus made this spell, Camille warped it. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to deal with this and he chokes out, “Fuck you.”

The curse word falls into the air between them and Alec doesn’t care if he doesn’t have a weapon, he’s going to kill her. Launching himself across the room, he slams her into the wall, gets his hands around her throat.

“Alec!”

He ignores Magnus, ignores the way Camille is clawing at him, fighting dirty. He can see her fangs glisten, the way she snarls in anger. She’s strong, pulls against him, but it’s Magnus; Magnus who pulls Alec away and off, pushes him back like he weighs nothing. Magnus who takes Camille by the throat, pins her against the wall, magic that binds her there. Magnus, who’s exerting force on Alec, keeping him from moving, from attacking her again.

“Don’t be her,” Magnus says, not looking away from Camille. “Don’t be me.”

“What are you-”

A wave of his hand and there’s a portal inches from where Alec’s sitting. His eyes widen and he says, “No, you can’t,” but Magnus is already pushing, and Alec crashes through the portal -

-and slams into the floor of his bedroom at the institute.

The portal disappears before he’s even screamed out, “Magnus!”

.thirty

Izzy throws open the door to his bedroom, eyes wide and frantic as she takes in the scene; Alec’s still on the floor, Camille’s blood on his jacket, scratches on his face and neck. “What happened?!”

Alec opens his mouth to answer, wants to tell her everything, but doesn’t know what to say. He’s not even sure what he’s supposed to feel; about Magnus, Camille, any of it. Izzy drops down on the floor next to him, draws Alec into a hug. He hates it, wants to pull away immediately, but Izzy doesn’t let him.

“Tell me everything,” she says.

This time, Alec makes himself talk. He feels disassociated, like it’s not him, and it makes it easier to tell her. He still sees Magnus die, still feels the blood on his hands. He can see the way Camille smiled, like this was fun for her and all because she wants him to hurt, to make him see what people will do to Magnuss to get to him.

“She wouldn’t think that if it didn’t work,” Izzy says gently.

“I can’t,” Alec starts, and then chokes off, his anger warring with guilt and something else that he’s afraid to name. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Izzy looks at the clock. “Fine. Then we’ll stay here, you can sleep. You look like you need it, after all of that.”

“I don’t even know if the spell is over,” Alec says, suddenly, and he feels a flash of something that Magnus didn’t even focus on that. When he says so, Izzy frowns.

“You don’t know what he did, what he’s doing. You need to-”

“I don’t,” Alec says quickly, because he knows what she’s going to say. He doesn’t want to ask, can’t ask right now, and he’s not sure when he will be able to.

They sit in a silence for a while.

“I’m afraid to fall asleep,” Alec admits. “What if it doesn’t work?”

His voice echoes around the room, devoid of anything. He doesn’t remember the last time he was here; it doesn’t feel welcoming, but he’s not sure how much of that is genuine, and how much is reliving the same morning over and over.

Izzy pulls him up onto the bed, taking his hands in hers. He remembers telling her in the beginning, her and Jace and Clary. They’d believed him, of course they had, but every time was like the first time with them, having to relive their worry. It was different with Magnus, felt like someone with magic would know -

- and now Alec knows why. Magic is responsible for everything.

“I can stay,” Izzy stays, grip tightening around Alec’s hand. “I’ll be here. We’ll find out together.”

Alec nods absently, even as he thinks no we won’t. He might never have agreed before this, but he needs the company now that Magnus is - now that he doesn’t have Magnus. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I want to kill her,” Izzy says, quiet and serious. “I want to make sure she suffers.”

Alec thinks of the way Magnus tossed him through the portal, the anger that had consumed him when she’d taunted Alec. He closes his eyes, takes several deep breaths. “I think he’s done that for you.”

“Hey,” Izzy says, taking Alec’s face in her hands. Alec misses the way Magnus touches him like that, and his chest seizes. He’s so confused and hurt and he doesn’t even know where to begin. “Did you ask him not to?”

“I-” Alec shakes his head. “I was going to do it. She fought me back and he said, ‘Don’t be her. Don’t be me.’”

He hates how expressionless his tone is, how empty he feels.

Izzy looks sad, but she brushes her thumb over Alec’s cheek. “He’s protecting you, Alec. I don’t - I can’t understand how you feel, what you’ve been through, but I know that Magnus cares about you. He wouldn’t hurt you.”

Except he had, however unwittingly, and it’s that Alec has to deal with. “I can’t think about that right now, but I don’t want to hurt him. I think I-”

He doesn’t know how to put it into words. He can’t reconcile the feelings in his heart with the knowledge that he could still wake up and be living the same day, all of this just an extra way to make him suffer.

“He knows that.” Izzy brushes a kiss to his temple. “He cares about you, Alec.”

Alec nods. He cares about Magnus too, still, and even if he doesn’t want to admit that to himself, he can’t not think it. He grinds the palms of his hands into his eyes and then leans more heavily into Izzy. He needs something to cling to. The clock on his bedside ticks over into the hour and Alec holds his breath, hardly dares hope that everything will be okay. He’s turned his phone off; if this doesn’t work, he doesn’t want to know until he wakes up.

“Stay with me,” he pleads.

one.

Alec doesn’t want to open his eyes.

“Hey.” The word is familiar, but the voice not so. Alec opens his eyes to see Izzy smiling at him, small and careful.

Burying his face in his pillow, Alec clutches at the sheets, unashamed by the burn of tears on his face. Izzy’s hand presses against his back, buries her face in his hair.

“You’re okay, Alec. It’s okay.”

It’s not, not even close, but it’s tomorrow and Alec doesn’t have to suffer losing Magnus, doesn’t have to live through blood and fear and the knowledge that he’s never going to escape.

three.

Alec presses a hand against the door to Magnus’ loft, desperate to enter, but he can’t bring himself to open it.

He can hear Magnus moving around on the other side, the soft murmur of his voice. Alec worries that he has a client, until he catches Chairman Meow. His lip curls up into a soft smile as he thinks about Magnus chatting to his cat, who couldn’t care less.

He’s spent the last two days at the Institute, having to retell the story to Jace and Clary, then his parents. He’s sure at least one of them had contacted Magnus, he’d heard the whispers that abruptly stopped when he entered the room, but he doesn’t care. He’s been trying to mend, trying to deal with the fact that he’s not stuck, that he has time again, and that Magnus was at least in part responsible.

He knocks softly on the door.

“Who is it?”

Alec closes his eyes at Magnus’ shout and has to take a moment before he can reply. “It’s me.”

There’s a heavy silence, and Alec’s half-afraid Magnus isn’t going to open the door. He can’t leave, not now he’s here, he just wants to talk, wants to know-

The door slowly opens, revealing the familiar loft; Chairman Meow is sitting in the middle of the floor, tail flicking gently against his body. Magnus is half-framed in the doorway, looking smaller and diminished, somehow, and that makes Alec hurt. He enters the hall, waits only until Magnus has shut the door before he moves to touch him. He’s startled and hurt when Magnus pulls back.

“I’m sorry.”

Magnus’ eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, I thought -”

He trails off, and Alec realises what the flinch, the step back were about. “I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

Magnus runs a hand over his face. “You’d have every right to.”

Everything is wrong and Alec hates Camille more than he thought possible. “I’m not angry at you. I - I thought I was, but it’s not - you made that spell for someone you loved - however I feel about that it’s true, but it was Camille who turned it into that, who made me-”

Silence falls again. Magnus leans against the kitchen counter, looking tired and worn. It’s how Alec feels inside, like he’s never going to be right again, but none of that is because of Magnus.

“Did you kill her?”

His bluntness makes Magnus flinch, but there’s an imperceptible nod. Alec lets out a slow breath, feels his body ache with the release.

“So that I wouldn’t have to,” Alec mumbles, just to see the way Magnus closes his eyes, the way his fists clench on the counter top.

“Alexander,” Magnus says, like he’s pouring everything he is into that one word, into Alec’s name. “I thought-”

He trails off, uncertain, and Alec takes a step forward. Another. When he’s standing next to Magnus, he rests a hand on the back of his neck, leans in to brush his nose against Magnus’ temple. It’s the first time they’ve touched this way since Magnus told him they could break the spell, and Alec didn’t realise how much he was aching for it until now. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise.” Magnus lifts a hand and then hesitates, unsure if he can touch. Alec doesn’t like this, none of this is his fault, and he makes sure to say so. Magnus frowns. “If it wasn’t for me, Camille-”

“You don’t know that.” Alec’s had two days to think about it, to listen to Clary and Izzy both fight for Magnus, telling Alec that Magnus cared about him, loved him even. He hadn’t needed them to. It took a while to realize, to know for sure that he wasn’t angry at Magnus, but at Camille, at the spell for taking away Alec’s freedom. He was angry that he’d been a prisoner for the worst part of a month, but none of that was anything Magnus could control. “Whatever she did is on her, not on you. I want - I want to be here.”

Magnus looks surprised, though he rests his hands on Alec’s hips. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me again.”

“I love-” Alec cuts himself off, tries again. “I don’t know if it’s love, I’ve never - but I feel it for you, and I want to be here. I watched you die thirty times and every time felt like the first, like I was never going to be able to wake up next to you without worrying I would lose you again.”

“I can’t promise that,” Magnus says, “But I can promise that it won’t be because of the time loop. I can - I can protect you from that.”

“Okay,” Alec whispers. “I was so angry at you for taking away my chance to kill Camille. She did this to me, made me live that and I wanted to be the one to-”

Magnus presses his face to Alec’s chest. “She’s not worth what that would take from you.”

That’s why Alec can’t stay away. That’s why he knows whatever this is burning in his chest is as close to love as he knows it. Why he can forgive Magnus; Magnus loves him, wants to protect him from becoming something less than he thinks Alec deserves. Alec wants to kiss Magnus, wants to touch him and relearn him, forget how he’s looked for the past thirty days. Magnus lets him, breaths slow as Alec presses their lips together, tangles his fingers in lacklustre black hair.

When they part, Magnus has a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Alec opens his mouth, then closes it. Magnus doesn’t look surprised, though the smile drops a little.

“You don’t have to be. I know it must be hard to have to come back.” Magnus rests his hand on Alec’s chest. “You can go back to the Institute tonight if you-”

“I want to stay.” Alec’s surprised by the vehemence in his words, though it’s true; not because if he doesn’t do it now, he’s not sure he ever will, but because he wants to be here. He wants to fall asleep wrapped around Magnus, wants to wake up to a new morning, a different day, with Chairman Meow padding across his hip to claw them both awake. He wants to forge new memories to cover the old, to push away any influence Camille has over him. When he says so, Magnus lets out a noise of relief. Alec smiles into his hair. “I don’t think it will be easy.”

“No,” Magnus agrees. “But when things are important, they rarely are.”

Alec is content for now that together, he and Magnus will work this out. Alec wants it to work out; he wants to know if this is love, wants to learn everything he can about Magnus. “You’re important to me too.”

Magnus pulls him down once more, wraps Alec in a hug and kisses his neck, cheek, lips.

Alec finally feels like he can breathe.