A/N 1: Hey guys! This chapter is especially cheesy, so ummm beware, I guess? And please don't hate me for that extremely long hiatus… Pwease? With an Alec on top?

Some of this is Magnus POV, and the change between Alec's and his is super subtle, so watch for it.

The edge of the smooth bathtub was cool against Alec's cheek as he leaned against it. The tears have long dried up, the only evidence of his breakdown were his puffy eyes and the tears that wet the pale yellow sheet wrapped around his shoulders.

His head pounded painfully against his skull and his chest hurt with a certain type of soreness. And his stomach, Angel, his stomach. It throbbed and lurched and flipped painfully all over the place. He wasn't sure if it was his disease, or the remnants of his pathetic sobbing. "Alec, please come out. Please." Magnus whispered from the door, barely audible in the echo of the bathroom.

Alec should've known. He should've known. The purple bruise sitting perfectly on Magnus' chest was ingrained into his memory. It was faded at the edges, as if it was an old bruise. That meant it had happened a long time ago. Which meant it has been going on for a while.

Honestly, Alec really should've known. The sudden protectiveness of his phone, the midnight 'clients', it all made sense. And part of him, part of him already knew. But he refused to believe, and that was his own damn fault.

That pain that struck his heart in angry bursts now dulled into a sort of sort ache. Like instead of the blade stabbing into him, the blunt side of the knife pressed against him into a sort of painful soreness. It's almost like he has gone numb, all the pain and senses reduced into a blur of emptiness and confusion.

Magnus was still outside the door, his soft breathing just in the distant background. And Alec, he was so done.

He wished he would feel betrayal, like the stereotypical jealous shrew that found out about his lover's unfaithfulness. But all he could feel was deservedness, and stupidity, because he already known. He couldn't cry about the fact that Magnus' heart was not his, because he already known. It was never his, anyways.

"Please come out, Alexander!" Magnus called and Alec, he half-smiled sadly. The fact that Magnus cared so much kind of warmed his heart.

He stood up on two shaky legs, and the yellow sheet that wrapped around his pale frame fell and trailed on the floor in elegant cascades. It mocked him in a way. He was always extremely fond of this set of sheets, but immediately, the thought of another rolling around in it with Magnus forced him to shudder and remove the idea completely from his mind.

The cold floor that Alec padded on gently was spinning as he made his way to the door. He can do this. Just get his stuff and bolt. No need for talking. No need for talking. He's fine. He's fine.

The doorknob was firm and comforting as Alec gripped it tightly. He was ready. He's stronger than this. No need to hide. With one last regretful look into the mirror with millions of pots of glitter and cosmetics in front of it, Alec turned the knob and pushed.

And there was Magnus. He was staring up at the ceiling as if there was some supernatural force residing there to provide him with the strength to go on. Alec cleared his throat awkwardly, pulling the sheet closer to his body, feeling extremely awkward and pained. Magnus' gaze immediately shot down to look at him. "Alec, I'm sorry. Please, let me explain." He pleaded, and Alec tried to delude himself away from the honesty in the Warlock's eyes.

Alec looked away, turning his head away from Magnus to stare determinedly at the pile of clothes yet to be folded. "It's—" Alec had every intention of saying 'fine, okay, whatever', but this time, this time the words couldn't come out. Because it was the furthest thing from fine or okay or 'whatever'.

The sentence was left unfinished as Alec started to push past Magnus to the messy disarray of his clothes lying on the bed, a sharp reminder of the mistake Alec made. His world was crashing down on him faster and faster, and he just wanted it all to stop.

"Alec, listen to me. Please." Magnus voice was increasingly desperate from behind him, but all Alec focused on was collecting his clothes that were thrown aside carelessly in their bouts of pleasure. "Just stop, Magnus." Alec whispered softly, with no conviction, and Magnus just stared for a second, the words not sinking in.

Alec, hunched over onto the bed was beautiful. His hair fell into his face in soft strands that Magnus just wanted to run his fingers into. His cheeks were flushed softly in the bright light of the bedroom and god, those eyes. They were large and impossibly blue, even with the slight bags under them, and the little bit of puffiness, they were stunning.

And Magnus, he just felt like a douchebag, the hickey throbbing uncomfortably on his chest. He's a damn warlock; he should've healed it before Alexander caught on. But honestly, this was probably better. Because Alec needed to see, needed to break up with him. Magnus didn't deserve Alec. He really didn't.

"Turn around." Alec's voice cut through the tension like a knife. Magnus blinked, but obeyed anyways. The sound of rustling filled his ears and Magnus realized Alec was putting on clothes. "Okay, you can turn back around." Alec's voice is quiet, and Magnus does as he's told.

Alec was sitting on the bed on the corner furthest from Magnus, with his hands balled up together on his lap. He looked tired, like he hasn't slept in years. He's slumped over, and he looked skinnier, his collarbone jutting out in a way that Magnus hasn't seen before.

Magnus really shouldn't try to make this better. Magnus really should Alec have an angry fit and dump him like the pathetic Downworlder he was. But he couldn't because now Magnus couldn't picture his life without his insecure little Nephilim, couldn't live without him. So, like the selfish asshole he is, he tried to make himself sound charming, seducing Alec into forgetting, into forgiving.

"Alec, can we please talk about this?" Magnus asked imploringly, coming around to Alec tentatively. Alec looked at his hands, still refusing to look at Magnus. Alec looked older now, more mature. But most of all, bone tired.

Alec refused to acknowledge Magnus, his eyes completely away from Magnus. He was hurt, obviously and if that didn't cause sharp shocks of anger and regret stab at Magnus' conscious, nothing will.

And it was all Magnus' fault. He should've have let that werewolf who wasn't worth anything cut away the last strand holding together their relationship. He didn't even sleep with him, not really. He got that hickey and made out but as soon as the girl tried to unbuckle his belt, Magnus just couldn't do it.

"I'm sorry." Alec and Magnus said in unison. They both flinched up to look at each other in astonishment.

"Why would you be sorry, swe—" Magnus immediately cut himself off. Alec doesn't want him calling him pet names. Whatever Alec wants. His voice was soft as if talking to a trapped animal, or a small child. And Alec's eyes stared at him in an emotion Magnus couldn't place.

"Because I don't deserve you. Yet I tied you down. All these years, you were unhappy. And I'm sorry." His voice is barely audible and his eyes are seriously the window to his soul because there it is, regret and sorrow and fucking guilt, all wrapped up under a thin veil of blue and beautiful. And Magnus felt it, felt his heart thrum erratically in his chest in some kind of foreign emotion that he doesn't remember ever feeling.

"No," Magnus breathed softly, his voice rough and sagged, none like the beautiful and exotic purr that Alec was so used to hearing come out of those pink plump lips. "It's my fault, don't blame my…" Magnus searched for a word, but none could fit, "mistakes on yourself. This is on me."

And Alec's eyes went wide, the whites of his eyes completely surrounding his irises. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that." Alec snapped harshly, surprising even himself. "You're perfect. You've always been perfect."

Then silence, because Magnus felt it. Because this wasn't a guilt trip, this wasn't some trick to make Magnus feel bad about himself, this is Alec, perfect insecure Alec. Who is so self-unaware, selfless and extroverted. Perfect.

"And me," Alec sighed softly, barely more than a shaky exhale. Magnus could only focus on how broken he sounded. "I'm a horrible person. I'm a fuck up. And the fact that you dealt with me for all these years," Another pause as if it was hard to go on, "Thanks." Then a smile that could pause the whole world.

Staring at Alec, Magnus felt helpless. He felt desperate and angry with himself and staring at Alec, perfect Alec who loved him unconditionally for all these years, he's a horrible person.

All Magnus' life, he's known love to be fleeting and temporary, a flash of something special that sinks back into the ground some time later. He's been monogamous in the past, of course he has, but none made him feel like without them, there is no future worth seeing. All relationships were impermanent, fugitive bouts of laughter and happy memories that just disappear. And he was fine with that; he was fine with having multiple lovers at the same time, fie with getting together with someone only to break up a week later.

Then Alec comes, with his stupid baggy sweaters and beautiful blue eyes, and now, Magnus' entire life was thrown upside down. Now, he has no want or need to go after another, or find multiple people to keep his interest. Because Alec, he's perfect and never has Magnus ever felt genuinely bored with him.

"But still, I hate you sometimes." Alec continued softly and Magnus cocked his head to the side, swallowing the hurt. "I hate that I love every little thing about you. I hate how different you make me. How happy."

"Oh, Alexander." Magnus breathed, eyes going wide and soft and glittery and it hurt for Alec to look any longer, so his eyes tilted downward.

"You changed me and affected me more than anyone I've ever known." He said firmly, truthfully.

"Please, just stop." Alec snapped, but there was no conviction. His voice sounded gruff and old, a whole lot older than he really was. And Magnus has never felt that sorry, that regretful. "Because you won't remember me. Not in ten years. Not in twenty. Not in two hundred."

He could count on one hand how many times he has felt this kind of guilt, this apologetic feeling. Magnus wasn't used to it at all, and it made him severely uncomfortable and out of his own skin, and it was supremely uncharacteristic.

"You're wrong. Because I'll love you in ten years. I'll love you in twenty. And I'll love you in two hundred." Magnus replied simply, as if it was common knowledge. And it was in a way, because it was the truth that anyone with eyes could see. Anyone could see the artificiality of the boredom that he forced himself to feel. Anyone could see how he looked at Alec with a type of love people see in people married for decades. Anyone but Alec.

Because Magnus was the final cut into a long wound that hacked away Alec's self worth, that blinded him from seeing the beauty every time he looked in the mirror, and made himself refuse to believe Magnus' words, made himself conceive the false boredom in the Warlock's behavior as true and real. And it was all Magnus' fault.

And he was so sorry.

"No you won't!" Alec hissed suddenly, all passiveness, all tiredness completely gone. And it took Magnus by surprise as he looked up suddenly. "You won't because you're bored of me Magnus. I see it in your eyes, despite any words that fall out of your mouth. You're bored. And that's not love, Magnus. And I don't know why you're trying to convince me otherwise, just stop. Because it hurts. More than anything."

And at this point, Magnus is just staring at him because he was so far from the truth. Because Magnus loves Alec. Really loves him, and the fact that his love was being questioned, that Alec's heart is even more broken than his, it's on him. It's his own damn fault.

And Alec, he's clutching the wall that he had backed up to desperately. He was pale and off in color, and his lips were too red against his cheeks and he looked pained, and Magnus doubted it was just because of their conversation that dealt with a couple too true truths.

"I love you." Magnus said walking slowly towards him, wanting to hug him and kiss his forehead and brush that one strand out of his eyes that didn't want to swing like the rest of them. He wanted to feel Alec's cheek in his palm, wanted to feel his lips on his and wanted to feel the heartbeat slowly speed up under Magnus' palm. He wanted it all.

"Don't say that. Stop saying it." Alec said again, and his voice was harsh and powerful yet strangely weak. His face is absolutely bare of color, slightly ashy and a little tinge of green, but undetectable in the florescence of the room, washing everything into a muted tone.

And Magnus is worried, really worried that there's something wrong. Something Alec's not saying or showing. "No, I won't. I won't stop. Not now, and not in a hundred years. I'll say it until you believe me. Because it's true. I love you. I love you. I love you." Over and over, Magnus repeated it, taking tentative steps closer and closer.

Color is slowly returning to Alec's face, his cheeks coloring slowly, a blotch at a time. "I love you too. You know that. And I thought—All this time, I thought you knew and you were mocking me."

Magnus shook his head immediately, his ungelled hair hitting the sides of his face gently, it was an unusual feeling, he felt almost naked with his hair undid and his makeup minimal.

Alec continued. "And all this time, it was like those sappy romance novels. That that one person who makes you different, makes you want to be different is finally here and everything else just looked insignificant. You've changed me. You made me happy, even if we didn't talk anymore. Even if you didn't look at me. Because when I look at you, I'm different."

And it felt like Alec was describing his own emotions. "You've changed me even more than you know, Alexander. Through my long life, I've dated many people. Many people who dressed interestingly to stand out , who lived interesting lives that painted history in bright colors. I chased interesting." Magnus paused and looked at Alec meaningfully, and his response was a tight unreadable smile.

"Because I was scared of getting bored. So I slept around, had multiple lovers who all dressed in bright funky colors, who all looked interesting. Because I couldn't bare the thought of being bored. 'Having sex with the same person over and over would get boring, would it not' I would think to myself. "

Alec blushed bright scarlet at that, his innocence a quirk that lacked in most of his past lovers.

"And monogamy just didn't seem such a good idea to me. That having one lover couldn't possibly be better than having five. Five who had interesting lives and dressed in interesting colors and were beautifully interesting."

Alec didn't know what to make of that. "So you think I'm boring." He said flatly. And Magnus just shook his head profusely again.

"No, because then you come into my life in your stupid ugly sweaters, messy hair and you just seemed boring boring boring. But then I looked into your eyes, that first time, and I knew you were special. And you didn't need to have electric blue tights on for me to see that." Magnus grinned and he approached Alec, closing the last couple of feet between them, and then he could feel the soft skin of Alec's cheek under his hand, and he could see the adorable tiniest smidgeon of a birthmark that sat just at the side of Alec's throat.

"You're different than anyone I've ever had, Alec. And all those little quirks that I would've hated on anyone else, is what I loved the most about you. The way you're scared of spiders, or the way you dress, no matter how ugly, the way you drink your coffee with no sugar or milk. All these things that I would've found insanely annoying on anyone else, it's adorable on you. And then I couldn't see living without you. I really couldn't." Magnus paused as Alec opened his eyes to their complete capacity; the royal deep blue Magnus saw constantly transforming into a softer more icy blue.

And Alec was ridiculously beautiful. And suddenly, Magnus realized even if Alec was ninety and old and wrinkled, he would still be beautiful. Because he would still be Alec. And Alec, no matter how he looks, is beautiful. "Magnus, you can't just say all these things when I'm about to leave. Because your words now, they scare me. Because one part of me, I want to believe you so bad, but when I think of-" Alec swallowed and raised a shaky hand to rest softly on Magnus' chest, on that small bruise just north of his nipple. "I just don't know. I really just don't." Alec said softly and Magnus swallowed, and once again, he was reminded with just how he screwed up.

"Please let me continue." Magnus said pleadingly, and smiled a wide regretful smile as Alec nodded slowly, and didn't pull away from the hand Magnus had on his cheek. "And I was scared, Alec. Because I didn't want to accept just how much you changed me. I knew I was supposed to feel bored, supposed to feel like this much time we've been together should make me pine for another, but it didn't. So I tried to convince myself that I was bored, and I tried to distance myself from you.

And then I started thinking into our future. That when you—" Magnus paused again, this conversation getting harder and harder to push out. "pass on, I'll be alone. And I wouldn't want anyone else. And once you die, I think I would too. And that's terrifying. Because I would have to continue living, and I know I wouldn't get better. That's how gone I am for you, Alec. I'm selfish, I know I am.

So I tried to push myself further and further away form you, and I tried to make you hate me, so you would break off from me and go find yourself some mortal who you can love and who will love you and you two can grow old together, and forget about me. Because you deserve that. But time turned me into a selfish bastard, and I just couldn't break it off with you. Because I need you so much. Please, don't go." Magnus whispered and he can feel a strange prickle in his eye that he hasn't felt in at least three decades.

Tears, he realized. He hadn't cried in a long time.

Alec sighed and reached a hand to Magnus' face. With a gentle touch, he wiped away the first tear that slid out Magnus' eye. "Don't cry. I understand now, Magnus. I really do. But sometimes, actions speak louder than words." He said in a voice that didn't sound like Alec.

And Magnus was scared that he granted himself his own stupid wish. Alec might leave him and fall in love with another while he is forever haunted by the memory of Alec and their years together. "Let me show you. I'll spend forever showing you if I have to. But you're worth it. Touching you is worth it. Waking up every morning in your arms is worth it. Seeing you smile is worth it." Magnus said vehemently, and when Alec moved to take his hand away, Magnus moved his to clap onto of it. He didn't want Alec to move, because his touch made everything better.

Alec searched his face in a seemingly indecisive way. Alec was hiding something from him and Magnus was surprisingly nervous. "Alec, what's wrong, darling? You seem… like you have something to tell me." Magnus watched as Alec's face transformed his skin going back to the ill white color and throat bobbing in a seemingly uncomfortable way as he swallowed.

"Magnus I—" Alec couldn't continue as his stomach gave a wild lurch, his spine bending in a way that Magnus knew wasn't good. And then he ran, pushing past Magnus to the bathroom, leaving the Warlock stunned completely.

The sound of retching and chokes sounded off in the distance and Magnus moved immediately, following Alec to the bathroom.

He's sprawled in front of the toilet bowl, retching and sobbing as tears leaked out of his eyes that Magnus is sure isn't because of sadness. He's clutching the toilet with one hand, the other pressing on his stomach, but at a weird place. Because it's not the pit of his stomach, in front of the bellybutton, but right above, under the ribcage.

"Magnus…" He croaked out and Magnus was suddenly there, one hand at Alec's back the other on top of Alec's own hand on his stomach.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked tormented, because with one eye, Magnus could tell it wasn't just some minor stomachache that'll pass. It's something worse, much worse. And he was scared.

Alec gave another coughing gag, and Magnus had to look away slightly. Then the Shadowhunter turned two tearful eyes around at Magnus, and all Magnus wanted to do was gather the Nephilim into his arms and just hold him close forever. "I think I'm gonna die." He whispered hoarsely, eyes completely sunk in.

And Magnus' whole world came crashing down.

"I'm worried. I shouldn't be worried but I'm really worried." Isabelle paced back and forth in front of Jace, who sat calmly on the windowsill of his room. Jace rolled his eyes in semi-annoyance, head still spinning in light of recent events.

The Institute is what he considered his home. Ever since he was eleven, it was his home. Not Valentine or the Wayland estates, they never meant home to him, just where he spent his childhood. Because people is what truly made a home. Clary was his home. Where she goes, he goes. Isabelle, Alec and Max were his home. And suddenly the winding hallways of the Institute got suffocating. It was almost unbearable to be on edge at all times as he walked in the halls.

Because the Institute used to be his place to unwind, where he could relax without the threat of demons and monsters. But now, there was a constant unsetting feeling following him everywhere, listening for yelling and soft footsteps and the deep voice of Robert Lightwood.

"Why are you worried?" Jace asked as he reclined back onto the window, staring wistfully out of it, focused on some bird chirping prettily on a telephone line. Isabelle looked up from the floor, seemingly stuck in her thoughts. "What?" She asked, not paying attention to him apparently.

"Why are you worried?" Jace repeated, this time notably sharper, and Isabelle's lips fell open softly in disbelief.

"Alec, Jace, Alec!" Isabelle hissed smacking him on his arm. Jace rolled his golden eyes, and right now he didn't want to be trapped in the Institute, he dreamed of green eyes and a freckled face and long red hair. Instead he's listening to the hushed yelling next door of Robert and Maryse and he's just sick of it all.

"Why? He'll be fine. He's always fine." Jace's voice is laid back, and that just kept the fuel in Isabelle's tank going longer.

"No, he's not! Did you see him today? He thinks it's his fault our damn parents treat him like that. He's sorry, Jace. Sorry for finally giving that monster what he deserved. And now he's off with some shady Warlock whom Alec's obviously terrified of. Not to mention that strange illness that obviously isn't some minor stomachache. Is that fine? Is it?" Isabelle yelled at him, her pale face growing redder and redder by the second.

And Jace is half stunned. To Jace, Alec was always fine, always putting aside his personal woes in favor of helping Jace with his increasingly dramatic family issues. He's never not been fine, he's always been a stable constant in Jace's life and hearing the words come out of his sister's mouth, he doesn't know how to react.

Jace felt selfish in a way, like after Alec helped him through the times in his life where he didn't even know who he was as a person, but he completely glossed over any problems Alec's had.

"No, Isabelle, it's not. But I really doubt Alec wants to be treated like this right now. Stop worrying. Here, take this. Call him or something." Jace said, softening his tone of voice. He threw his phone to Isabelle with a certain type of graceful ease.

"Okay. Okay." Isabelle wiped away the beginnings of tears, sniffling delicately and pushing buttons on Jace's cellphone.

Soft knocks sliced through the silence like a knife. "Isabelle, Jonathan?" Maryse's voice was soft and delicate yet somehow hoarse, like she's been crying.

Jace huffed slightly and looked at Isabelle questioningly. She jerked her head a couple times, motioning for him to go check it out. "Go see what she wants." She mouthed, before pulling the phone to her ear. Calling Alec, right.

The blond haired Nephilim strutted slowly to the door, but didn't open it. "What in Angel's name could you possibly want now?" Jace asked her in lazy condescendence. He heard her labored breathing and pressed his lips softly together, keeping himself together.

"I just—I mean, can we talk?" She asked for the seemingly fiftieth time to any of her children.

"Why?" Jace asked her, genuinely wanting to know.

"Because I want my children to talk to me. I want a relationship with you three, that's why!" Maryse wailed and it would almost be comical how out of character it was.

"We're not your children, Maryse. You don't treat your kids like that." Jace replied, and turned his back on his door to watch Isabelle listen to the dial tone as she called Alec.

"Please, Jace! Let me in!" She pounded on the door. Jace disregarded her distastefully.

"Is he answering?" Jace asked Isabelle and she shook her head.

"I tried three times. Hold on." Isabelle pressed her lips together. "Go deal with her." She told him and Jace frowned.

"Go away, Maryse. Neither me or Isabelle have any interest in talking to you." Jace said from the door.

"Fine. Fine." Maryse muttered before they here a soft scratching noise. Isabelle cocked her head to the side. "Wait, he answered!" Isabelle said. "Hello? Alec?" She asked tentatively. No reply. "Alec? Alec!" She called.

Soft rustling. "Hello?" Magnus voice is pained and desperate.

"Magnus? What's wrong?" Isabelle sat up in her chair. "Magnus?"

"It's Alec." He whispered.

The door flew open to reveal Maryse with a stele in hand. Jace glowered at her, readying his fists against his chest.

"Alec? What's wrong?" Isabelle asked, extremely panicked.

"What about Alec?" Maryse asked sharply, eyes completely wide.

"Magnus? Magnus? Magnus!" Isabelle yelled into the phone, but the sound of the dial tone filled her ear.

"What's wrong?" Jace asked softly, but with an edge of panic that every person in the room was feeling. What if it was something serious? What if Alec was dead? That thought lit up Jace's mind and he was completely disgusted with even thinking it. It made his heart be unnervingly faster and faster, because he's worried and scared. It's an extremely unfamiliar feeling, that terror. He could take nervousness or even panic, but scarcely did he ever feel scared.

But Isabelle just shook her head. Because she had no idea. Not a damn clue.

A/N: Yipee! Finally done! I actually love this chapter, as I had a great jolly time getting drunk off red bull and writing the extremely cheesy-harlequin-novel-esque monologue that Magnus said to Alec. It wasn't supposed to be that fun. Really.

I think I have some weird thing for clichés. I need help, I really do. Well, I hope you're not completely put off by my childish foolishly romantic writing, and have a great day.

(P.S 90 reviews is absolutely INSANE. I love you guys to the moon and back, you know?)