Malec One-Shots

Photograph

It all starts with a photo.
The photo is taken one afternoon, when they are laughing too hard to breathe. It is a snapshot of the life they share together. Alec's wide grin is immortalized in the photo, a joy Magnus rarely sees on his face. Alec is holding the camera, his head leaned close towards Magnus. He remembers the moment perfectly, because he can almost feel Alec next to him like he was in that moment.

The photo is collecting dust on the mantelpiece. It's been a part of their lives ever since they took it, and Magnus has adored seeing his and Alec's happiness every time he steps into the living room. Lately, however, he's looked less and less at the photo and more at his beloved Alexander. The night before Alec went on an important mission, they hadn't taken their eyes off each other for a second.

They would have made love all night if they could have, but Alec needed his strength, so eventually they spent the night wrapped up in each other.
The photo is in Magnus's arms. It is wet from where his tears have dropped onto it. Alec's body was recovered from the mission, and despite all of their best efforts to work against the poisoning, despite Magnus working himself till he passed out to save him, he was dead.

In the end, Magnus needed Alec to give him strength. It is brutal irony that is causing Magnus unbearable agony. He runs his fingers over Alec's smile in the photo. "Alexander....Alec...Alec...." he whispers over and over again, saying his name like a prayer, willing him to come back. He doesn't.
The photo's frame is cracked from where Magnus has slammed it against the mantle. He can't bear to see his own face in the photo anymore. He didn't deserve Alec.

He knew loving a mortal, especially a Nephilim, would in the end cause him heartbreak, but he didn't anticipate it this soon. And he hates himself for it. "You wretched, filthy..." the words he uses to curse himself die in his throat as he gazes at the ruined frame. It's cracked over Alec's face. He slips the photo out of the shattered frame and cradles it against his chest. "I should have asked you to stay with me," he murmurs. He sobs and doubles over into an armchair, weeping.
The photo is kept in a box for safekeeping.

He can't bear to look at Alexander's happy face anymore. It just reminds him of what he's lost. He wanders through his days in a haze, time blending together. He drinks himself to sleep. Clary, Jace and Isabelle have visited him, but he doesn't know how long ago they did. They are hurting as much as he is, but he can't reach out to them. The High Warlock of Brooklyn has been laid low by this loss, and he is unsure what use his immortality is if he can't have Alec by his side.

Eventually everything in the apartment reminds him of Alexander in some respect, and he goes out to Pandemonium. His nights there blur together as well in a mass of music and bodies moving in slow motion. One night there is a man there. His green eyes stand out to Magnus. They don't talk much, but his hands on Magnus makes him feel something he hasn't felt in a while. He takes him home. The sex is incredible, and Magnus finds himself moaning out "Alec...Alexander!" when he comes. He apologizes profusely before breaking down in the man's arms. He spends the night before leaving in a hurry the next morning, a sympathetic smile on his face. He never sees the man again.

The photo is in the middle of a circle that Magnus has drawn with chalk. He doesn't know why he has never thought of this before. Contacting Alexander's spirit should be easy enough, but holding the connection will be the hard part. He focuses his energy and calls out Alec's name, invoking him to come to him. The connection dies and sputters out, but for a brief second, he feels something touch his hand. Whether or not it was Alexander, he does not know. He tries again. It doesn't work. However, sometimes he feels something. Not a presence or a spirit, just...something.

He wants it to be Alec. He wants for it to be Alec so badly.
The photo is on the mantelpiece, in a new frame. It no longer brings him agony to see his and Alexander's smiling faces. He keeps in contact with the Shadowhunters and even helps them out. It feels as though there is a weight in his chest that he carries at all times, but it is manageable. He smiles at the picture now, running his fingers over Alec's face and remembering what it was like to have that beautiful, shining man in his life.

"I love you, Alexander," he whispers to the photo. He knows he will love again. But his heart's space is not finite, and he will always have a special spot in it for Alexander.
The photo stays where it is.