This is my take on Alec and Magnus's future. If you're not a fan of depressing Alec-dies-and-then-Magnus-jumps-in-front-of-a-bus fics, then boy have you found your story!

The House of Plenty

You can't reap the rewards if you don't take the risk.

In times of great conflict, Alec always looked to the facts for guidance. Facts were real, solid, and certain. They pointed the way to what was right and what was wrong. It seemed to Alec that all of his problems in life had resulted from him straying from the facts and following his heart. This was definitely one of those times where he needed to be level headed, to think clearly. This was one of those times where he needed to look at the facts and stuff his stupid, confusing emotions back in the closet where they used to stay.

"This is your decision, Alec. Don't let me choose. And please don't rush it."

Alec nodded absently. He didn't plan on letting Magnus influence his choice - that was why he wasn't meeting the warlock's glimmering cat eyes. All he could hear was Magnus's breathing and his own. It seemed as though all of the noise from The House of Plenty had been shut out. What had the warlock outside said? These walls were lined with the bones of the willing? It was something unpleasant and familiar like that. Alec bit his lip, staring at the luminescent blue liquid in the bowl before him.

He was thinking, remembering, seeing himself six weeks earlier. The liquid responded, showing him his own face as Magnus told him about The House of Plenty and a choice he would have to make.

O-O-O

It feels like being splintered on the inside. All of your bones turn against you and bristle against your organs. Every breath aches, every heartbeat pushes you one stumbling step closer to death. Time slows and you're left there, laying on a flat infirmary bed, your eyes too swollen to open. I find myself in this bed so often that it should have my name stitched into the sheets. And hovering above me, like some sort of strange angel in leather pants, is Magnus. Though I can't see him I know he's there. I know because the shattering and splintering is going away. Magnus makes everything better. He makes me sleep even though I don't want to.

What if he's gone when I wake up?

But he isn't. I sit up and he's in his usual spot on the bed next to mine, gray circles around his eyes, using a stuffed blow-fish as a pillow. I remember when Izzy bought that stupid thing when she was seven. It's too large to resemble an actual blow-fish, but it must be more comfortable than the flat hospital pillows. Feeling a little guilty, I tap him with my toes, and then with the whole bottom of my bruised foot. He growls like an irritated bear cub, but eventually opens his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" he askes.

"Not dead." I smile, but it's not a funny joke. Jokes aren't really my strong suit. Sometimes I say things that make him laugh, though, and that makes me happy. "I'm good."

Magnus sits up on his elbows, looking dented and strained. "Alec, I... I have something to ask you. But I can't figure out how."

My stomach dips. This is how I felt when Hodge called me off to yell at me years ago; I don't know what I've done wrong, but I know that I'm going to pay dearly for it. "Just say it," I murmur, trying not to appear worried.

He reaches out and takes my hand. "Alec... I don't want you to die."

O-O-O

Alec closed his eyes and the memory shut off. The temptation to grab Magnus's hand was almost too much, but he managed to resist. This decision was his. Alec's. The whole world didn't revolve around Magnus Bane.

There was his family to think of. Could he really go through this without them? Did he want to go through this at all? Eternity was eternity. What if he couldn't handle it? Alec wasn't Magnus. He wasn't meant to live forever. What if it drove him insane? How could he sit by and watch his family grow old and die while he stayed twenty-one forever?

But how could he grow old without Magnus?

It was all too much. It hurt to think about, so he simply put it out of his mind. So what if he was going to get old one day? That wasn't going to happen for a long time. He still had decades left with Magnus. That meant a lot to Alec. But at the same time, a couple of decades was nothing to an eight hundred year old. And those decades wouldn't be youthful. He would get older, weaker. Someday people would look at him like he was some sort of monster just for loving Magnus. Just because he appeared old.

Alec closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Emotions were no good. They had to go. They had to leave the equation. This was his choice and his choice was going to be made by looking at the facts. If he did this, he would have to watch his family die, but they were going to die anyways. That was nature. That was right. And if Alec went through with this, he would be denying nature.

Really, though, what did Alec care about nature? He'd defended humanity long enough - it should throw him a bone. Besides, he could die tomorrow. He could be slaughtered by a demon or hit by a train or choke on a doughnut. Life owed him one, didn't it? It owed him a future free of misery.

He pried his eyes open, head thumping with the distant beat of the August UKF Dubstep Mix that slid faintly up through the packed floors. The liquid waited for him, showing him more. Flashes of Magnus, of his family, of eternity slid before his eyes.

O-O-O

"It's called The House of Plenty. It's like a club for warlock's," Magnus says, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I rest my chin on my knees, eyes on my toes. This conversation is always present, but we're not allowed to talk about it. Stupid near-death experiences. You always make everything so tragic. "So we just go there and they make me... any time?"

Magnus shakes his head. "Not exactly. There's a whole process. It takes a couple of weeks and you have to start it on your birthday." He makes a face. "And I have to pay them, but that's not really a big deal."

"How much?"

The obviousness of my lame attempt at a subject change makes me cringe. "The money isn't the point. Alec, do you at least want to try?"

And I can see it in his eyes. He wants me to try, to go with him and make my decision. And the part of me that isn't denying this is necessary really wants to. I'm afraid of the future. I'm afraid of dying without him. I'm afraid of so many things about the future that I feel sick thinking about it. More than that, I'm afraid of living forever. I'm afraid of never seeing my family again wherever we end up when we die.

"Okay," I say. "I'll go."

O-O-O

Alec tried to look at the time on his phone, but Magnus grabbed his wrist. "You have time," he said. "I'll let you know when we're running out."

He made a noise of agreement, knowing full well what would happen if he thought of the time while looking into the liquid. Still, the thought couldn't help but burst into his head at the last moment. He was supposed to be thinking of his choice, of immortality - that was what The Insight was for, after all. It was to help him clearly recall the events that had led him to this point. But Alec couldn't concentrate on the facts anymore.

So he thought about the time.

O-O-O

Despite the fact that I've been panicking about this moment for weeks, I'm actually a little relieved to arrive at The House of Plenty with Magnus. Even though there's a part, Magnus isn't smiling. He's wearing his serious clothes - plain black pants, plain white t-shirt, and a sweater he stole from me. He's trying not to draw me away from the decision, the one I've yet to finalize, but it's hard not to be biased when he's wearing my clothes.

The House of Plenty is actually a house. I half expected it to be a warehouse or a functional shoe factory or the underside of a bridge or something. It's not. It's just a giant house covered in skulls and sprinkled with gambling, drinking, and potions making. Magnus takes me away from the throngs of people, dancing to disturbingly addictive music, up a flight of stairs. The banister is knotted with loops of hair, all different colours. The upstairs has less people - if you can call them people - and smells like thick incense, roofing tar, and sulfur. I choke on it. Magnus doesn't seem to notice.

He leads me up another flight of stairs, this one narrow, and come face to face with a large horned man. "Name?"

"Magnus Bane."

A smile lights up his rough face. It somehow makes him uglier. "The Lady is waiting for you. Don't worry about your screams echoing - the walls are stuffed with the bones of a thousand gullible men."

Magnus raises his eyebrows. "Charming."

The man opens the door and we find ourselves in an attic. The walls are hung with dark silks and the floor is covered in soft, strange rug wherever it lacks beaded pillows - which is rare. A thin woman sits in the center of the room. She stands up when we enter.

"Magnus Bane?" she asks, and he nods."I see. I'll leave you to it. Money?"

A thick wad of bills appears in his left hand and I can't help but gasp. "You didn't say it would cost that much!"

He shrugs. "Honey, it's nothing. Really. Think of it as an extremely stressful birthday present."

The woman takes it and then reaches over to touch the Portal waiting for her. "You have one hour." And then she slides through and is gone.

O-O-O

The facts were slipping away like wet sand through his cupped hands. His thoughts kept running in circles - life and death, for now and for eternity. Family versus Magnus, right versus wrong, magic versus nature... he couldn't take it anymore! And what good was The Insight doing? All it showed him were pointless moments in the recent past. He could remember those moments perfectly fine and they didn't matter!

Where was the epiphany? When would he be able to make up his damn mind? Why did it always take him forever to figure out what he wanted?

He always thought he worked well under pressure, but that seemed to be a lie. He wasn't working well at all. Not with Magnus sitting so close and the music so loud and the clock tick-tick-ticking away.

It was always ticking, wasn't it? That was what this whole thing was about, really. The damn clock. It raced by in that hour, in the six weeks leading up to that moment. And it was ticking away at his youth, at their time together. He just wanted to stop the damn clock and give himself more time to think!

And there it was - Alec wanted to stop the clock.

O-O-O

"Do you love me more than sleeping in?"

"Yes'm."

"Do you love me more than putting cheese on your macaroni?"

"Of course!"

"Do you love me more than glitter?"

"Now let's not get carried away, Alec..."

I laugh and chuck the afghan hanging over the back of the couch at his head. He catches it and winks. It makes me melt a little on the inside. It also makes me supremely jealous because I can't wink gracefully. Whenever I try it looks like my contacts are falling out. "I've been out done by reflective specks of dust," I sigh.

"Come on," he nudges me with his foot. "Yes, I love you more than glitter. However, I'm not going to disclose how much you've won by."

And this is where I'm happy. Not with blinding hot passion or carefully crafted romance, but with silly, sweet games. Sunny Saturday's with nothing but teasing Magnus, baking cookies, watching old movies, listening to him talk about people I'm never going to meet. Playing with his cat, stealing sweaters from each other, having him force me to play with everything in a toy store. That time he took me out of New York to try a trampoline. Admiring cupcakes in London, drinking at a cafe in Paris, making snow angels in Stockholm. Water balloon fights, that time we laughed for an hour straight because of that really ugly baby we saw, going to the movies, shouting at famous people I never knew - and still doubt - existed.

I love Magnus. I love everything about him. I

O-O-O

"Don't want time to run out," Alec mumbled.

Magnus perked up. "Pardon?"

Alec let himself breathe for a moment. He let it come in and go out.

You can't reap the reward if you don't take the risk, he thought.

"I'm ready." The words were thick in the heavily perfumed room. He found Magnus's hand and squeezed it tight. "For forever."

FIN.

-Cara