Disclaimer: Nope, nope, anddddd nope.

Summary: 60 years later after the Mortal War, there are still some farewells that are hard to say.

"You know, I never got to figure out what your favorite season was."

For the past 60 years, this day, this place, at the very same time. It was a routine that he could not live without; this obsessive routine that he had stuck faithfully with for the past 60 years. Leaning forward, he gently re-arranged the scarf that was wrapped around the cross.

"And then, you always hated the cold." A fond smile crossed his lips at a memory. "Always under thick blankets, mom always wondered if the Institute was located in New York or the Arctic. Old Hodge though…he always indulged you." A long pause. "Although maybe though, that's why you took his betrayal harder than anyone of us. He was as close to a grandpa you would ever had, I guess."

He tilted his head up, looking at the fiery shades of orange and red leaves, their fiery colours brought more alive as the sunlight hit them at different angles; so much so that it looked like the trees were burning. Glowing, even.

"I always thought you'll be the autumn kind though. Izzy said so too; that at the very least your taste in clothes looked decent was during the autumn season. I suppose those fancy scarfs and jeans and shoes and whatnot we dumped into your closet helped you for once." He chuckled. "You made a whole ruckus about us ransacking your closet though; mom grounded all three of us for a week."

A light breeze touched his cheek; the leaves rustled against each other as if it were amused. The smile grew a little wider on his lips.

"I guess autumn is definitely your season then." A stronger breeze; leaves gently rained around him as he absent-mindedly picked up one that had fallen onto his lap, sub-consciously admiring the blend of red and orange with the occasional splotches of yellow.

"Does go well with your personality too; you being all hot and cold at the same time. Clary said she never managed to properly figure you out; Simon too. Well, in any aspect, I guess you kept popping up new stuff we never knew about you." He furrowed his eyebrows. "Sounds kinky. Oh well." He chuckled. "I can almost hear you yelling in my ear, you know." He spoke up wistfully after a while, having fallen silent for a few seconds after his joke.

"But I guess you would have more to yell about at me. Complain, even. After all, Izzy chose an immortal life with Simon. Yea, I suppose you would have known by now though, that she made, forced him, rather, to converting her to a vampire. Something not Izzy-like, I know. Or wait. That was 50 years ago."

He shook his head. "Feels like yesterday that she told us she was renouncing her status as a Shadowhunter to be with Simon. I remember everything though; Izzy standing her ground, Mom yelling and shaking her…as if that would knock any sense into that hard block of wood that is Isabelle Lightwood." Another light breeze; he laughed softly this time, almost blending in with the wind. "Simon was completely freaked though, he had no idea of anything that happened. I bet Raphael was pleased though, knowing him. But as you know he got his ass handed to him. Never interfered with the way Isabelle did things around after becoming one of them." He paused thoughtfully for a moment.

"Or rather, I guess there was a mutual respect kind of thing going on between them? I heard Raphael and Izzy discuss a lot of stuff, heck, she's there as one of their representatives during Clave meetings. And the old farts do certainly shut up and listen to her now. Her and Clary both. Women power, Maia calls it."

A proud smile crossed his face. "Oh yes, speaking of which, did you see my great-grandson and granddaughter? Beautiful pair of twins, the both of them. They've definitely got their great-grandmother's eyes; it suits them well. Luke says they'll grow up being heartbreakers. Just like their great-grandmother and great-grandfather." A cheeky grin found its way to his lips. A familiar gesture; one that always appeared when he teased a certain someone.

And then it faded away, and if anyone looked closely, they would see that the man's eyes had clouded over slightly, looking at the cross as if a part of his life was residing in it. "You know…after the war…I never thought I would actually marry. I loved Clary, yes…but somehow…something was missing. You were missing." He took a shuddering breath. "Not there anymore, the other part of me, which was you."

"You would have throttled me if you were still here." Another deep, choking breath. "Saying things like 'How could you not marry her' or 'Are you an idiot'." Even after 60 years, the pain was too fresh. When he had gone to Brother Zachariah…or rather, Jem Carstairs, Jem had all but given him an empty, pained smile.

"You don't forget the pain, the loneliness that was your bond. You don't forget it. It's part of what it means to be Parabatai; what it means to lose your other half that is bounded to you by soul."

"What it means to be closer than brothers."

The first drop trailed down his cheek; it promised of more to come, like with every 60 years thus past far. "Why though? Why did you do it? It would have been fine if it was me…"

The sound of steel cutting through flesh; two pairs of eyes stared down at him, both unseeing, but one had a facial expression of shock, the other, with a grim smile.

He barely registered the scream of pain from the one with a shocked expression as the blood of an angel raided his tainted veins, burning him, tearing at him, dragging himself off the blade with a sickening wet sound, while he caught the one who was falling to his knees, drenched in ichor and demon blood.

With a trembling voice, he shook his other half, willing him to keep his eyes open, nearly breaking down as he pulled the Mortal Sword out of his Parabatai, exacting a scream of pain as demon blood touched his skin; he knew the runes were burning him.

"Why…why did you…"

Blue eyes hazily glanced at him, giving him no answer as he collapsed into his arms.

"That day…because my blood ran purest with Ithuriel's blood…both me and Clary, one was us was meant to be sacrificed… did you do it because of us?" A bitter smile crossed his lips. "Magnus…what you did, it was enough to break him. He's a frozen block of ice…and would have if Tessa hadn't set him straight. But he's never loved another ever since you. He won't even step into the Institute except during Clave meetings."

"Everywhere in the Institute reminds us of you…no one goes near the tower too. Except him. And me…and Izzy. The battle where you made yourself a hero."

"A hero, man. A hero." A half-crazed laugh choked its way out of his throat. "That's what the Clave called you. I told them to piss off. After what you did…a hero? YOU LEFT ME BEHIND!" he roared, punching a fist on the ground. A still silence fell over the place.

"You left me behind, damn you! Me, Izzy, Magnus…Maryse…" he buried his face into his palms. "I never actually thought I would call her Mom…but we already lost Max…and then you…and you left me behind to suffer the loss of my brother that was closer to me than anyone else was, even Clary." The last sentence came out as a bare whisper.

"You left me…to live…" he whispered, head still bent low, hands buried in once brightly blonde hair, which had since lost much of its blaze with the passage of time. "To live without you…in this ideal world where we all dreamed of achieving…"

He looked up, tears still falling from his eyes. "Without you…this past 60 years…I lived…as if you were by my side. Then I turn around…you aren't there…how did you even thank me for it…how…" he choked out.

He ignored the shouts of victory from the Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike. Couples were embracing, some were crying for their fallen friends or comrades, families gathered together in tight circles, Allied partners giving their partner an exhausted clap on the back, others giving chase to escaping demons.

All of that, was irrelevant to him.

He only focused on reaching his destination, the one the both of them always snuck into after a hard day of training, or simply when the other could not sleep due to their own nightmares. It was the very same place that Valentine had once come so close to destroying what it meant for the both of them, and also the only place that he could fulfil his Parabatai's request.

"You remember the glass dome that we always snuck up too?" he absently twirled a leaf in his hands. "We always stayed there, watching the sunset, or the sunrise. It was supposed to be sacred though, watching a sunrise together…" empty eyes fell back on the cross. "And then you left."

Heaving, he all but stumbled into the room, pushing away the acrid odour that was a mix of sweat and blood, and that against his chest, the breathing of his Parabatai had grown more shallow. There was hope…he had hope.

"Alec…we're here." As gently as he could, he set down his Parabatai and pulled him close so that Alec's head was resting on his shoulder. The bleeding had reduced to mere drips of blood, but the iratze had only limited healing powers.

As much as he was trying to deny it, Alec was fading, poisoned with demon blood and from the multiple wounds that covered his body. Already his once bright blue eyes had faded to a dull color, and Jace had felt it.

The knot in his heart. Something was tugging away…away…

"It will be soon." He breathed into jet black hair. "Can you imagine, we've fought nearly the entire night..."

There was a long silence, and Jace felt his heart grow cold. "Alec?"

"It's almost time…for the sun…"

"Yea."

They remained in that position for what seemed forever, and then the faintest peeks of the rising sun.

"Alec, it's rising. The sun." he shook his Parabatai gently, tightening his grip around the other teen.

His only comfort was the irregular breathing sounds of the person in his arms, reassuring him that Alec was, indeed, struggling to stay alive, as long as he could.

He silently willed for Izzy, for Clary, for anyone…just anyone that could save Alec.

But it seemed the other had no intention of being saved, having been resigned to his impending passing.

"It's beautiful…" Jace nodded in agreement. "It is. We can now see this everyday now, now that the war is over."

"…Jace…" a whisper fell from pale lips. "After everything…my room…" a spurt of blood fell from his lips as his body jerked from the action. "No one else…you must…first…"

"Shut up, please. You'll be fine." Jace rocked Alec in his arms. "You'll be fine, I promise."

"Jace…"

"Shut up, SHUT UP! No, you'll be fine, I swear by the Angel, you'll be fine Alec, you can't go…"

Thundering footsteps. He heard their names being called amongst many others.

"Someone's coming Alec. You'll be fine." By now the sun had almost fully risen, illuminating the inside of the dome, spreading its rays to signify the start of the new day.

He heard the footsteps drawing closer, and blearily realized that Luke, or Jordan or Maia might have traced their scent.

"It's fully up now, Alec. You see that? The war is over. We won. You won."

There was no response. And then something wet against his chest.

He lifted a hand, insides churning as he realized his rune was bleeding. It was bleeding.

"Alec." It came out calm. But the pain was growing stronger. "Alexander! Don't you die on me! Alec!"

A hand gripped his arm weakly, and Jace froze.

"Thank you."

Cold air from the morning breeze occupied where a warmth of a hand should have been seconds ago.

The other half of the knot fell away.

And hazily, he wondered why the screaming that he heard sounded so much like his own voice.

"They named the pact after you. A pact between Shadowhunters and Downworlders." He felt the throbbing pain of where the rune once lay, darkly tattooed. "The faeries though, for their betrayal, they got what they deserved." A grim smile crossed his lips. "That traitor of a Seelie Queen. Maureen too. I thought you might want to know that she's gone too. Lost to some rouge vampire running amok. Naturally, we dealt with him too. There'll never be another Camille or Maureen or Seelie Queen anymore."

The breeze began picking up again.

"I wish you were here, by my side." A lone tear slid down his cheek. "I wish it wasn't your grave I was looking at. Just the two of us, sitting side by side here as old men and talking about our great-grandkids and maybe, just let me insult Magnus for a bit. And that nerd too. Clary's an exception."

More rustling, and looking him, he saw the first indication of night falling.

"I tried to name my son after you. Alexander." He took a deep breath. "But I couldn't. I feared that I would love him more than anyone else, aside from you and Clary. So he took your great- great-grandfather's name instead. Gabriel. Also uses a bow and arrow. Like the both of you."

A dog barking in the distance, little kids squealing in delight and happy laughter of parents…Jace Herondale let out a long sigh, and rested one hand, wrinkled with age yet still full of strength, onto the cross.

"It will be your anniversary in a couple more days. I'll come again, brother. Do wait for me, you hear, Alexander Lightwood? Or I won't give you peace even if you're surrounded by Angels." A cocky smile, one that defined him, Jace Herondale, very well.

"See you then, my other half. My Parabatai. I love you." As he turned away, a breeze trailed past his ear, almost laughing, almost bittersweet.

See you soon, my brother.

A/N: Sooooo...after such a long time, being missing on that is, I welcome back myself with a TMI fanfic. For a first try for a TMI fic, I hope it went well...I knew it was bad thing to be writing so much angst. Alec I'm so sorry- TTATT