I had always been terrified of storms. When the thunder rolled and the lightning cracked a flash of innocent white through the sky, the little me was reduced to a crying mess, tears streaking my face more than the rain coming down from the sky onto the Institute roof. Plop, plop, plop. Mom and dad told us that we were Nephilim, we were brave, and the brave did not cry. The brave always stood strong and tall and the brave never admitted fear. Dad told me never to show weakness. Weakness could get us killed. I never thought that weakness could be someone's salvation.

In those storms, though, I couldn't stop myself. Terror jolted through my veins like electricity, and fear could not be contained, but where mom and dad were not there was always you. You, with your hair as silky and black as mine and your deep smiling blue eyes that I could only wish I had inherited. I always wondered what eyes that deep would look like on a face with harder features. Maybe your kids would be more fortunate than me and inherit your gorgeous eyes. I didn't know. All that mattered was you, always next to me, always there during those storms to hold me and stroke my hair and tell me that everything was going to be okay. You never showed weakness. You were always strong and brave and good and perfect. You are my brother, and I have always loved you.

Flash.

I remember the first time you decided that I was old enough to take to your fortress in the garden. You lead me through the grass and toward it, a small box of wood under an overgrown tree branch on the lawn. Crouching, crawling, and leading the way through what seemed like vast tunnels but probably were small dirt patches, we went in and I was amazed. Books stacked against the wall lining the corners, black painted wooden stumps substituting for chairs because you were always small before you grew into yourself. Your legs touched the floor when you sat. Mine couldn't touch the floor so I just sat there as you gave me a lopsided smile, amazing me yet again.

Flash.

I remember when our parents announced that Max was going to be born. They told me that I was going to have a new brother and I jolted away from them as fast as I could to the safety of the linen closet by the bathroom and began to cry. They couldn't see me cry. You couldn't see me cry. You never cried. You were brave. I was weak. I was vaguely aware of the choked sobs escaping my throat, vaguely aware that I couldn't breathe in the stifling small space surrounding me. I was all alone. It hurt. The next thing I remember after the hurt was the door cracking open a little bit and your voice,

"Iz?" I immediately stopped and looked up at you. You were perfect, even with your unwashed hair matted and holes poking all through your black sweaters because you didn't care how you looked. "Why are you crying all alone in a closet? What's wrong?"

You bent down next to me and put your hand on my shoulder, an act which made me choke on my sobs even harder, because I knew. I just knew.

"They said I was getting a new brother… but you're my brother… I don't want them to replace you!" It was difficult for me to get the words out. It hurt so badly. You, much to my dismay at the time, didn't look distressed, didn't look upset, just gave me a light chuckle and patted me on the back.

"They're not replacing me," you said reassuringly. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll never go anywhere. Our parents would never get rid of me, Iz. We'll just have another sibling to love, that's all."

I remember your voice being a calming presence as I slowly stopped crying and let you lead me out of the stifling closet and to my bedroom, where I let the enchanting power of sleep overtake me.

The day, later, that Jace came, I knew you weren't being replaced. You had taught me that. You were my brother, and brothers were forever.

Flash.

I remember one day how I was in the kitchen, making myself a ham and jelly sandwich when I was supposed to be focused on my training. I remember so vividly the look on mom's face when she walked in, purple bruises around her eyes that I deemed from a lack of sleep, looking pitiful, no way that I had ever seen our tough mother looking before. "Mom!" I was so concerned, so scared, at ten years old not even able to fathom what kind of godawful thing could have happened to her. "What happened?" Dad had given me my electrum whip for my tenth birthday that year. If anyone hurt mom, I wouldn't hesitate to use it then. Even so young, you know that the Shadowhunter life is one of great violence. She told me that at that young age she couldn't tell me what happened in full, but she told me that dad didn't love her anymore. She told me that now, dad loved some other woman and she had known for two years and she couldn't take it, couldn't hold it in anymore. I wondered what it was like, holding something in until you bursted. She asked me not to tell anyone, and because the Nephilim are an honorable people, because I am an honorable person, I didn't tell anyone. Not even you.

That was the day I started to keep secrets. I didn't know that, that same week, I would be keeping one that could ruin your life.

Flash.

I remember so clearly the day that I was sitting in my room, alone, staring out the window. There was a knock at the door that I instantly recognized as yours, five short, to the point raps at the door that I had grown accustomed to you using over the past ten years. You were twelve now; beginning to look different, more like Jace, who had grown into himself before you had, even though it was clearer to me now that you were going to grow to be larger than he ever could hope to be. The thought made me smile because of how stunningly attractive Jace thought he was.

I opened the door to you only to see your face looking almost exactly as mom's had that one day: worn out, exhausted, old in a way.

"Alec," I asked you. I was gentle with you. You were always my favorite person. "Alec, what's wrong?" I put my hand on your back.

"Izzy, can we talk? I have to tell you something." Your voice was so small. You were trying to shrink into yourself and become so small. I didn't like it, didn't like it one bit.

"Are you okay, Alec?" I beckoned you over to my desk and into the room. You glanced out the door, left, right, left, right, and then slammed the door with such force that I jumped. I was scared for you then, raw terror that didn't match to anything I had ever felt before.

"Would you still love me if mom and dad couldn't? Would you still speak to me if the Clave exiled me and I couldn't be a Shadowhunter anymore?" You buried your face in your hands but did not cry. Because you were brave, because you were not weak. Crying was for the weak, never the brave.

"What did you do, Alec?" I was starting to shake. I felt my heart pound in my chest. I wanted to cry now, to wrap myself up in your arms and let my fear go, but I had to be strong for you.

I had to be brave.

"What did you do?" I repeated, fearing the worst. Did you accidentally kill someone? Steal something valuable? Insult our lifestyle? No, you wouldn't do any of those things. My brother was strong and brave and good, not evil.

You whispered something inaudible.

"What?"

Again, I couldn't hear a word.

"Alec, you have to speak louder."

"I SAID, I'M GAY! HAPPY? I'VE KNOWN I'M GAY FOR TWO YEARS, ISABELLE. I'M GAY AND I LIKE JACE. I'M AN ABOMINATION."

And then you curled into yourself like you regretted telling me, looked at my arm with the hand that was still resting on your upper back like you expected me to pull away in disgust at any moment.

I didn't. I didn't see the big deal.

"So… you like boys. What's it to me?"

"Iz, you don't understand. If mom and dad knew… if the Clave knew… I wouldn't be welcome here. Don't even try to deny it."

I didn't say a word.

"Please don't hate me," you said in a barely audible whisper. "I need you. I love you."

I could never hate you, I told you. You were my big brother. You were always strong and brave and good and perfect. Those were the important things. You were making nothing into something.

"You're the best brother I could ever ask for, Alexander Gideon Lightwood," I said.

"Thank you."

You got up and walked out of the room. To me, then, the conversation didn't seem to end in any particularly important way, just in truth, but years later you told me that night was the best you had slept in two years.

Flash.

You hardened over the years, no longer the happy little boy I had known when I was small. Still fiercely protective and with a heart of gold, but you had grown inwardly rather than externally into a person that scared almost everyone you came across. You never scared me. To me and me alone you were different than that mirage of a person you had created, still willing to laugh and smile and outwardly love. Even to Jace you were hardhearted. That you scared me, but as soon as everyone was gone you would always go back to being your beautiful, loving, caring self.

The day Simon and Clary first came to the Institute I think was the most difficult day for me to watch you. For years I had guarded your secret; for years you had been so safe, so secure. And now Clary knew. She noticed herself, telling you that if you were half as brave as you said you were you should just admit that you were in love with Jace. You were as steady as rock when you said to her that you would kill her if she ever said anything like that ever again, but I could see you. I could see it hurt you.

Flash.

Apparently, Clary's memories had been blocked by someone by the name of MAGNUS BANE, who apparently if his party invitations were to be believed would give us A RAPTUROUS EVENING OF DELIGHTS BEYOND YOUR WILDEST IMAGININGS. You didn't really want to go, but you would for Jace. You said that Bane sounded like a pretentious asshole judging from the invitation, and I really couldn't disagree. But Jace wanted to help Clary, and you loved Jace, and so we were going.

Magnus Bane was a warlock, with unusual glowing cat eyes, a lot of glitter, and incredibly tight clothing. He was blunt. He was to the point. He was provocative. He was a party boy. To me, that's all he was, but when he told a joke, it was the first time I think that I had seen you laugh in public in years.

Magnus Bane told us this story about his childhood, awful stories of death and hatred and rejection and a poor little boy in terrible pain because of his mother's suicide and his father's abuse and attempt to drown him in a river, a sad rejected child who accidentally realized his power because he lashed out at his stepfather because he couldn't breathe and accidentally killed him causing him to be ridden by guilt for the rest of long long eternity. I couldn't pin that boy as the insane warlock in a bright shirt and leather pants that hugged his skin so tightly that they must be ridiculously hard to move in that was standing in front of me, and beyond pity I really didn't feel much. None of us expected the gentle voice to come from you and say, "It's alright. We can't help how we're born."

Magnus Bane was something else, too, though we didn't know it yet. One day, he would be the man that I would hand you to after we walked down the aisle. We didn't know that yet, though, so I should continue your letter in blissful pretend ignorance.

Flash.

After Max was killed, you shrank into yourself even more. You started spending less and less time at the Institute and less and less time with me. I was so scared.

Flash.

I remember that day in the Accords Hall when I was so proud of you. You didn't care who was watching you and Magnus after dating in secret for months. You didn't care who was looking at you at all; the war was coming, you were going to fight the battle alongside Magnus thanks to Clary's alliance rune, and you knew you might die. I knew you wouldn't. I never thought of you as able to die before, because you were my perfect brother. And now, knowing that you wouldn't die but knowing that you felt free to let your feelings go for once, not caring if you were in front of the whole Clave, I was so proud of you when I watched you lean up, take Magnus's face in your hands, and bring it down to yours.

I thought that was brave, regardless of what anyone else thought,

Flash.

Mom eventually learned to accept.

Dad didn't.

And I watched their relationship fall apart even more, and all I could do was wonder.

Flash.

The most terrifying day of my life was not the day that I almost died in a demon hunt. It was not a day that I fought in a war. It was the day that I found the razor blade on the kitchen sink, coated in red.

Without thinking, I barged into your room. I grabbed your arm. I pulled the sleeve of your sweater up and screamed.

"WHAT THE… BY THE ANGEL ALEC. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF?"

I knew from the way your body crumpled. You fell into my arms and just started sobbing. It was only then that I realized that tears were rolling down my face too. "I want dad to care about me again," you whispered as quietly as possible. "I want a family again."

"Alec…" I said. "You can't do this. Please. Please don't… don't treat yourself this way. You're strong and brave and you always protect-"

"What does it matter, Isabelle? Does anyone really care what I do?" Your blue eyes were poison. I looked straight into them.

"I care. Magnus cares. Jace cares. Mom cares. We all love you. Promise me something," I instructed him, more gently than I felt. "Promise me that you will never do this again."

You promised. You never broke a promise to me. By the time the weather began to warm, I knew, you would be wearing tee shirts again.

Flash.

Dad and Mom are divorcing.

Flash.

The day that you packed all your bags without telling either of our parents where you were going, I didn't stop you. You told me you were moving out of here and in with Magnus. There was no way I would try to stop you. You deserved to only be with people who were good to you and respected you.

Flash.

Magnus broke up with you. You fell apart.

Flash.

That's how I found myself outside Magnus's apartment at 3:15 in the morning, trying to kick his door down with my stilettos, screaming at him to open the door, to let me in, to let me smash his pretty little sparkling face in. Because no one hurt my big brother and got away with it. Not even the High Warlock of Brooklyn. He never came to the door, but I don't think it was my imagination when I heard the choked sobs coming from the inside of the loft.

I left after that. Maybe he was hurting, too, and maybe me making it worse would hurt you.

Flash to now.

I am so, so happy that you and Magnus are together again. He was good to you, always good to you, and he always loved you in the way that you deserved. Traveling to hell on a seemingly suicidal rescue mission for Magnus seems totally worth it now seeing you smile this brightly. And, of course, you should be smiling this brightly.

Today is your wedding day.

Jace is your best man, of course, confused though he is- shouldn't the man you're MARRYING be the best man? – and he just came out and said you wanted to speak to me privately. So I walk in to see you standing there, looking amazing not in your torn sweaters, but instead a black suit and gold tie to go with Magnus's gold suit and black tie. I smile at you.

"Hey Iz."

"Congratulations, Alec." I smiled at you. It was good to see you finally happy. Max would have been happy for you too, and proud. I miss Max. I can't talk about him for very long.

"I have something I want to request of you." You looked straight at me. It really was a wonder how you could do that when just a few years ago you couldn't even look at your own reflection in a mirror. Magnus again, I guessed. He really helped you. "I know this is unconventional…"

I snorted, interrupting you. "Since when have our lives ever been conventional?"

You laughed at that, a pure, wholehearted laugh. My heart swelled.

"Dad didn't come." You paused to wince very briefly, but then went on. "Mom… mom was never there for me. The only family that was always there for me was you."

This wasn't a request. I was confused.

"Walk with me down the aisle, Iz. Please."

I hugged you and started to cry, tears of joy for you this time.

There would be no more pain flashes, because the storm was over.

We had made it.

Thank you all for reading my take of the Lightwood sibling's lives! Please take the time to R&R. I would really appreciate it- I'm super proud of this one, but there's always room for improvement.