Death in Idris (Alec/Magnus, Mortal Instruments)

I have to get out of here, Alec thought, as he calmly walked away from his little brother's grave. His family didn't say a word to him when he turned his back and started to leave, the quick funeral was over, and everyone was too caught up in their grief to notice him, for which he was grateful. He made sure to keep his shoulders back and to walk with his head up in case anyone saw him. It didn't matter how overwhelmed he felt or how much he just wanted to curl up somewhere and forget the rest of the world existed. He was a Shadowhunter. He had to be strong. Nearly everyone had lost someone to the demons, and the war wasn't over yet. In fact, it had practically just begun.

Alec started walking a little more briskly, as he neared the end of the cemetery. He didn't want to look like he was fleeing, but his chest felt tight with grief, anger, and guilt, and he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He wanted to fight, to run blindly into battle at the very moment and revel in the violence in a way he never had before. Now it would be revenge, and it would get them one step closer to getting Sebastian and avenging Max's--

The anger immediately drained from Alec's veins as Max's name crossed his mind. He couldn't even allow himself to face the reality of his youngest brother's death, but with the anger gone all that was left was the hollow emptiness of grief. He glanced around and realized that he was in front of the house that his family was staying at while in Idris. The house was dark, and a few of the windows had been smashed, but they were already covered with boards. It looked stranded and nothing like home. He knew Izzy was in there, but he couldn't bring himself to go in just yet.

There would be no comfort or solace for him inside.

Instead, he kept walking, keeping his head down and hunching his shoulders against the chilly wind that cut through the fabric of his formal white clothes, the Shadowhunter attire for mourning. He was sure that no one would bother him but didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself. He purposely avoided the center of the city, knowing everyone was grouping there, preparing for battle and looking for loved ones. He didn't have any idea where he was going exactly, but it didn't matter. As long as he kept moving, he could leave behind every horrible thing that had happened in the last 24 hours. Maybe if he just kept moving, he could outrun his misery.

He turned a corner onto a dark and deserted street. He glanced around quickly, making sure no one was around and took off at a dead sprint. Letting the feel of his muscles working and the shock of his feet slamming into the pavement consume his mind.

By the time Alec began to slow, he was at the edge of the city, his heart was beating rapidly in his chest, and his lungs were tight with exertion. Still, he kept going, jogging until the dull glow of the city's witchlight was just a streak in the distance. Finally, he acknowledged his body's need to rest and half fell onto his back in the tall grass on the hillside.

Alec closed his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. He knew he must have run for miles and that his strength would be better spent at a later time, but running had cleared his mind. Even if it was only for a few moments.

Suddenly, Alec was aware of someone watching him. Alec's breathing hadn't quite returned to normal, but his muscles tensed as his eyes slowly scanned the darkness surrounding him, ready for a fight. He stayed still on the ground, not wanting whoever or whatever it was to know that he was aware of their presence. It was unlikely that whoever was watching him was friendly, considering all the Shadowhunters were convening in the city, along with the many of the allied Downworlders. A muffled footfall sounded to his right, and he slowly reached for a seraph blade from his belt, hoping the tall grass would obscure his movement. When his hand reached the place where the hilt of the blade should have been, his hand closed around thin air. He hadn't brought any weapons with him to Max's funeral, and he hadn't even thought to grab something before he took off. It was incredibly stupid of him and a renewed sense of anger and self-loathing shot through him, as the sound of footsteps got closer.