This fic takes place after CoLS

There will probably be spoilers.

I may or may not stay true to the snippets Cassie has posted on her own Tumblr.

As always, I don't own these characters or The Mortal Instruments, Cassandra Clare does.

I will do my very best to stay true to her characters. (Also I have not yet read The Bane Chronicles so if I say something outside of cannon I am sorry. :) )

Old, but I'm Not That Old

Magnus looked himself over in the mirror. His usually so well kept appearance had started to slip over the last few weeks leaving him feeling like half the man he usually was. It had started the night he'd left Alec. He'd gone into it telling himself that he would hold it together, that this wasn't going to be as bad as he thought, and that no matter what was said or done he would be strong and stick to his choice. Alec was not the first person to break his heart, he could handle this. He had started off believing this too. Started strong and determined, then he'd made the mistake of looking, really looking into Alec's eyes. The pain he had seen in that blue, that beautiful blue that made his heart melt, that drove him crazy, it was just too much. He'd almost lost it there. That last kiss had nearly killed him; he'd nearly changed his mind in that moment. He had manged to turn away though, without breaking down. The tears hadn't come until after he managed to turn away from Alec, hadn't come until Alec could no longer see his face, and for that he was grateful.

He had wandered after that, given Alec the day as he'd said, to pack his things and go. He could have used magic to give himself privacy, to go unseen, or at the very least taken a cab someplace so no one but the driver saw his sorrow, but there had been something slightly satisfying about walking through the streets with tears streaming down his face as people passed by almost oblivious to his pain. He almost didn't realize he'd gotten home until he was at the door. It was dark bu then so he knew Alec was probably long gone but fear gripped him anyway. He unlocked the door with hesitation, but the lights were out and no one there except the Chairman, who was curled up on the couch. Magnus looked around and found that all signs of Alec were gone. Jackets no longer hung in the hall closet that were not his. There were empty drawers in his dresser and empty hangers in the closet. No longer was there Shadowhunter Gear neatly placed in the trunk at the end of the bed. No more extra tooth brush. No more dagger on the nightstand. No more books full of runes piled on the coffee table. No more stele on the desk. No more Alec.

He had lost it then. Rage hit him like a sledge hammer to the chest. The things nearest to him had been thrown and broken to pieces as Chairman Meow streaked from the room with a hiss. Suddenly his powers, which had always been best with healing, were violent and destructive. He would come to regret that later but right then he relished in it, setting fire to the couch and tearing apart his bedroom. He probably would have burned the whole house down with himself inside if Isabelle hadn't shown up and fought him until he'd collapsed into hysterical tears in her arms. She'd held him then in a way he didn't deserve, rocking him with soft whispers, and stoking his hair the way one took care of a sibling. That realization had sobered him enough to ask her why she was there. She should have been with Alec, should have been comforting him not Magnus.

Izzy explained that Alec had come home with his things looking completely broken. That he'd told them of Maureen and Camille. That he'd explained stiffly what had happened between himself and Magnus, before packing a backpack of things and left, asking them not to come looking for him, to let him be for a while. He'd said he would check in to let them know he was safe. She had said all of this while cleaning him up. Washing the cuts he'd given himself in his tantrum, pulling glass shards from his hair and cloths, and making sure nothing was bleeding still. It was a side of Izzy he'd never seen before and he found himself overcome with more emotion than he could handle over it. She'd pulled him up and walked him to one of the guest bedrooms at that point, putting him to bed as he sobbed that he was sorry over and over. He hadn't seen her since. It seemed the Shadowhunters were leaving him alone as he'd asked and he was glad for it.

The next three weeks had been a blur for him. A blur of Chinese take out, minimal showers, sweat pants, I Love Lucy reruns and multiple, hysterical sobbing fits. Now he found himself in front of the mirror really looking at himself for the first time and he hated himself. His hair hung limp and in his face, there were bags under his eyes that would take considerable effort to cover up, and he didn't even want to get started on the sweats he was pretty sure he's been wearing for the last three days. He looked horrible. Worse than horrible, he looked old. Not really in the physical sense of wrinkled, that would never happen, but the way he held himself. The way his eyes stared back at him like they'd seen too much. All of it showed his age. Anger suddenly flared inside him again. Age. All of this was because of his age. Because he was an old fool who'd lived too long and forgot what it was like to be young. Alec's betrayal, Camille's involvement, his hesitation about his past, all of it because he'd let his age matter. He was old, but he had never thought he wasthat old. His fist found the mirror and it cracked.Seven years bad luck, he thought bitterly. What was seven years though when you were destined to live alone forever anyway?