A/N- So this is a story I've co-written with TheFeatherQuill and mrs. jessica mellark (Her name is actually one word, but ffn won't let me do that!) It's 100% Malec! Enjoy!
Disclaimer- Nat, Jess and I don't own the Mortal Instruments series. Cassandra Clare *insert bowing fangirls here* owns it all.

My dad's rough, calloused hand comes into contact with my cheek again. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the tears in my eyes, so I squeeze them shut, trying to find a spot in my mind not filled with terror and pain. He yells something at me but I don't hear him. I learned over the years to simply tune it out… I also learned that things never change.

I wonder again what I did that made him so angry. It's probably my entire existence that upsets him… but I am only ten, what could I have possibly done?

He strikes me down again as I try to stand up. His foul breath washes over my face and I wince in disgust. Of course he's intoxicated; he is always drunk when he gets the most violent. A sharp pain threads through my head as the man who called himself my father drags me into a standing position by my hair. My heart races faster when he all but kicks me into the bathroom and next to the bathtub that suddenly seems like a porcelain object of fear. It's filled to the brim with steaming water and my mind goes blank.

There's nothing else I can do once he forces my head under the water, so every time I manage to get above the lapping liquid I scream bloody murder, wishing, hoping, praying someone would come to my rescue.

As it turns out, that someone is my neighbor, who hears the commotion and immediately calls the police. I never meet her, but I am silently and eternally grateful.

*Twelve Years Later*

"Ragnor," I said for the third time, looking at my best friend in disdain. "There's no need for this; I'm perfectly fine."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling of his Porsche. "Yeah Magnus, you're perfectly fine," he said sarcastically. "You're also one hundred percent straight, a die-hard republican, and have an intense love for classical music."

Sighing, I crossed my arms and stared catatonically out the window. "Point proven," I muttered. "I just don't see why you're making me see your cocky psychologist friend."

"He's not my friend," Ragnor corrected. "He's my co-worker. And I'm making you go because you need to."

"No I don't," I said stubbornly. "I've already told you everything, why can't you examine my brain or whatever?"

"Mag, you know I'm not a psychologist," he said. "I work in a building with some psychologists though and I bet they could really help you out." He paused as we came to a stoplight and turned to me. "I'm worried about you."

"Well, you're my friend, not my life coach," I said to him. "I can handle my personal problems just fine on my own, thank you. Besides, if it took me years to open up to you, what makes you think I'm going to tell a perfect stranger?"

"Because I'm paying a shitload of money for your sessions," was his answer. "Now you're going and I don't care how you feel about it." I sighed as he parked the car and we both got out and made our way to the huge building he worked at.

This building was mostly for life coaches, marriage counselors, grief mangers, and dermatologists. It was a weird combination of professions but where else was New York supposed to put them? Anyone who lived within a thirty mile radius of the building went there for their issues. I lived alone with my cat in a nice Brooklyn flat and hadn't ever heard of the place until Ragnor brought it up. I still didn't want to go.

"You're acting like a child," he scolded when he had to literally tug me by my wrists into a stuffy looking office filled with the sounds of sad people. The sign on the door listed a name of the psychologist's there-

Dr. David Allen Stern
Dr. Tessa Gray
Dr. Alexander Lightwood

I looked to Ragnor, my expression questioning. "Which one of these am I going to?" I asked him.

"The Lightwood one," he said, shoving me into the room. "I tried to get you in with Dr. Gray so you wouldn't be distracted by the good looks of the other two. David is average but Alexander is quite a looker."

"I don't think I'll be looking at him anyways," I said melodramatically. "My eyes will be cast downward, staring at the bleak floor as I pour my feelings out in a wave of the horrible events I had to endure as a child."

Not even a chuckle from Ragnor, just a sigh. "Stop being such a drama queen," he muttered, ushering me down a narrow hallway.

"Was that a homosexual slur I just heard?" I said, sarcastically appalled.

"Stop stalling, Mag. Just go." He opened a door I hadn't realized we'd reached and pushed me inside before I got to say anything else. The last thing he told me was, "See you in an hour and a half!"

Sighing, I turned away from the door and saw a very young man, probably just out of college, sitting behind a large mahogany desk with papers and files cluttered amongst it. He had an unruly shock of black hair atop his head but somehow he made it work. I could barely see his face; he was looking down at a paper in his hands, but his skin was flawless.

He glanced up at me when I clicked the door shut and I think he almost did a double take. That didn't surprise me- I was wearing tight, electric blue skinny jeans, an equally tight rainbow shirt and a black vest over top. Ragnor made me leave my hair out of its usual spikes because he figured they could potentially draw blood if I were to force them upon people, so it was long and down, hanging to about my shoulders and falling over one eye. No one had to tell me that I looked damn sexy; I already knew how hot I was.

Yes, I'm conceited. There's nothing wrong with that.

"Uhm, hello," he said kindly, his voice squeaking ever so slightly on the last syllable. He cleared his throat and stood up to meet me near the door. "You must be Magnus."

I made a grunting noise that could have been accepted as a yes or a no and he reached out his lightly colored hand for me to shake. I took it gently and couldn't deny the fact that I liked the feeling of having his hand in mine.

"I'm-" he started.

"I know who you are," I said quickly and in an admittedly bitchy fashion.

Dr. Lightwood seemed a little taken aback for a moment but he quickly recovered and gestured to a comfy leather chair on the other side of his desk. I stayed standing but he sat at his desk chair. "Ragnor tells me you two are friends…" he said quietly.

"Yup."

"So what brings you here today?" he asked.

I shrugged and picked at my lime green painted fingernails. "Meh," I muttered. "Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" he asked imploringly.

I didn't answer his question but leaned over his desk to look him in the eye. "Listen," I said slowly. "Neither one of us wants to be here right now so I'll go and we can pretend like I talked to you, mkay?" Walking to the door before he got a chance to answer, I heard the slight scuffle of his chair against the carpet and he was next to me in a second.

"Mr. Bane," he said firmly. "I'm just trying to help you. Please sit down and let me do my job. Dr. Fell paid a lot of money to help you out, so unless you want to disrespect your friend, I'd greatly appreciate it if you would sit down."

One of my hands was on the doorknob and his hand was on my other wrist. I turned slowly and my eyes caught the gaze of his intensely blue orbs. They were every shade of blue imaginable, twisted and swirled into two circles of perfectness.

Call me kinky, but I liked the way his voice had sounded just then. It was firm and assertive and the startling color of his eyes made it all the more interesting. I cocked my eyebrow like I always did when I was a bit amused and his gaze wavered, his hand sliding off my wrist.

"Fine then," I said, sitting down in the leather armchair and crossing my legs. "Do your thing."

He sighed and cleared his throat, taking his seat as well. "Please," he started. "Tell me the main reason why you're here."

"Didn't Ragnor already tell you my entire life story?" I asked disgruntledly.

"We aren't that close," was his answer. "Just tell me what happened."

"Well, my father was physically and verbally abusive towards me and my mother, he ended up killing her, and my foster parents ignored me." As a second thought, I added, "Oh and I haven't been able to sleep through the night in four years."

He didn't speak for a minute but his expression remained the same. "Okay, that's a start," he said. "Care to elaborate?"

"Nope."

"Uhm, well, do you have any creative way to let your feelings out?" he asked.

"Like… coloring?"

"No, that's not what I meant," he said, making a teeny tiny sound that could have been a chuckle. Whatever it was, it was cute. "Do you sing or dance or paint? Play an instrument, maybe write poetry?"

"I can sing a little," I said. "But it hasn't seemed to help much."

"You want to try some Rorschach's?" he asked.

"You mean the dude from Watchmen?"

"Ink blots," he answered, reaching into a drawer in his desk. "Tell me what you think of when you see this." He held up a square piece of paper with black ink on it.

It could be described as nothing else but an inky explosion on paper. I decided to tell him that because he had asked so nicely. "Someone had an accident with their pen," I said bluntly.

He said nothing for a second before flipping it over and showing me a different ink blot. "What do you think now?" he asked.

"It's a blob," I said simply. "There's nothing else to it."

Another ink blot was shown to me and I tilted my head a little. It seemed like there could've been something there. "I don't know," I muttered. He began to flip it over but I stopped him with my next words. "Wait," I said. "I think I might see something." He paused and urged me on with his deep blue eyes. "I got it," I said, snapping my fingers. "It looks like a penis."

Something in Dr. Lightwood's jaw twitched and he eyed me suspiciously. "You're going to keep being difficult, aren't you?" he asked quietly.

"No," I said slowly, lacing my fingers together. "With just a little more effort, I'm going to be impossible."

A/N- There you have it. Next chapter will be done by Nat (TheFeatherQuill) Yay! Don't forget to review!
-Ella