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Magnus knew there was a mundane word for it. He had watched many warlock friends fall victim to it, and smacked Catarina out of her funk when she crumbled beneath its weight.
It was worse for her though, since the drain on her reserve came from both her mundane and her medical side.
At least the mundanes talk about it, he mused quietly.
It had been a long ass day.
Since Magnus was no longer the High Warlock of Brooklyn, he considerable magical skills were now available to hire. This meant that everyone and anyone who knew where to look came to him for help. Lorenzo may hold the title now, but Magnus was still the public face of New York’s magic users and he had centuries worth of prestige to fall back on.
His first client? Wanted a ward on her new studio. Easy. Simple even. It had taken 15 minutes, and he left with a bag of rare herbs and the knowledge of a job well done.
The day went to Edom from there.
Next up was a young warlock with a bad attitude and 1000 questions. Didn’t help that he arrived 20 minutes late for their appointment and overstayed his welcome, which in turn, lead to client number three being cranky from the get go.
And this was one woman you did not want to make mad.
She had asked for a particularly difficult spell from Magnus weeks ago. It had not gone according to plan and now Magnus was stuck in a mess of trying to somehow salvage the situation. The more he played with it however, the more tangled it all got and the harder it became to weave something acceptable to the woman.
“All” she had wanted was a ward that would notify her if someone tried to walk through her home in Belarus. Which is fine. That’s totally doable. But no, Magnus wasn’t actually allowed to go to her home in Belarus and he had to construct it all from a distance.
Because Edom forbid anyone actually sets foot in this woman’s house.
But because magnus is Magnus, and he is trying to get back into the game, he agreed to try to make something work.
Spoiler alert, it did not work.
And now the woman is standing in his house, screaming that he is incompetent because she managed to fuck up putting the amulets in the correct position.
And now she’s mad that Magnus was running behind.
Great.
“I do not understand why this is so difficult.” Elen crossed her arms and huffed, “You told me it was very straight forward when I originally asked you. How can something so simple turn into such a trial?” The woman turned to Magnus with a sneer, “I guess that’s all I can expect from a failed High Warlock.”
Magnus raised an eyebrow and took on a non-affected expression, though internally, he was counting to ten and summoning the will power to not blast the woman out the door and back on to the street.
“As I explained at the time, m’am, your refusal to see the layout of the building, the placement of the ley lines or even the direction the room in questions faces is compounding this issue.” He took a deep breath, “If you would just allow me to see the schematics of the property, I am sure I can pull this together.”
Elen pursed her lips, “I do not think so. I will not have anyone as… Incompetent as you visiting my house. I will seek out someone more qualified I think.” She sniffed and wrapped her coat around her more tightly, “Now. Please portal me to Brest.”
Magnus smiled tightly and conjured the required portal.
If the exit of the portal happened to be facing so that the lovely Ms. Elen walked straight out and into the river Mukhavets, well.. He was a lowly failed high warlock. What more could one expect?
Closing the portal after hearing the highly satisfying splash and accompanying high pitch shriek, Magnus slid down the wall and dropped his head to his hands.
He had another 15 minutes before his next appointment, and the warlock could not find the strength to move. The thought of facing the rest of the days’ worth of appointments was overwhelming him and it made his breaths come in short gasps. Magnus knew what this was, but, being centuries old did come with a few perks. He took a deep breath and focused on pushing the last hour from his mind. He locked it in a mental box and vowed to come back to it when he had the time.
(so, hopefully, never.)
All too soon his appointment book “dinged” to remind him that his next client would be arriving any moment and Magnus stood up, shook himself off and prepared to meet the Gilbert family with a wide smile, who wanted a series of blessings done for their newborn.
°ºOº°
What felt like hours later, Magnus finally collapsed back into the soft and welcoming hug of his very expensive armchair. He rubbed a well manicured hand over his face and let out a groan. It had been a long and tedious day, but not an unusual one.
The warlock itched to get changed and climb into bed, but even getting off the couch felt to be an insurmountable challenge. In fact, nearly everything felt to be impossible right now and to his shock, Magnus realised tears were welling up in his eyes. Angrily, he brushed them away and slammed a fist into the couch.
It was not time to open the box damnit!
Magnus let out a huff and pushed his way off the armchair. He swiped a glass off the counted and watched is shatter with a detached sense of appreciation.
He stepped over the crystal shards and stalked into the en suite he shared with Alec. There were signs of the other man all over the room, but for once, instead of filling him with a warm glow, it just made Magnus irritated. Alec’s towel was in his way, his dirty jeans were on the floor. His two hair products clogged up the bench. His stupid, bloody, Nephilim trinkets were on his shelves!
Magnus raised a hand to throw the little gift Izzy had bought for them on her last trip to Idris, before his anger suddenly ran out of steam.
Dropping to the floor, he fisted his hands in his hair and tried to take a deep breath. Magnus knew this wasn’t him. He knew that this was an irriational response brought on by a series of long and arduous days, but he couldn’t bring himself to set it all aside.
Lost in his thoughts, Magnus didn’t hear the door open.
Alec took in the state of the loft.
He knew Magnus had a big day, so some of the debris made sense, but he hadn’t expected to see quite so many things broken. Fresh from the hunt, Alec still had his quiver on his back and bow in hand. Silently, he drew an arrow and knocked it, preparing to scout his shared abode.
There was broken glass on the floor, spell ingredients scattered over the benches and books strewn across the floor. Alec rarely came home before Magnus cleaned up, so it was 50/50 as to whether this was normal, or if the place had been ransacked.
The living room and kitchen of the loft was clear and Alec made his way towards the bedroom, where he finally caught the sounds of quiet, wet breaths.
Alec lowered his bow and quickly made his way towards the sound.
What he saw broke his heart a little.
Magnus had squished himself into the space between the bath and the vanity, with his knees drawn up to his chest and his hands in his hair. What struck Alec most was how small the other man looked. Gone was the centuries old warlock, and in his place was a vulnerable and insecure young man.
Alec toed off his shoes, dropped his weapons on the bed and slowly made his way towards his partner. He stopped a few feet away and crouched down, so his face was in Magnus’ line of sight.
“Hey Mags. It’s me. You doin’ ok in there?”
Magnus showed no sign of hearing him, so Alec shuffled slowly forwards until he was within arm’s reach. Gently, he put a hand on Magnus’s shin and was rewarded when glowing cat eyes flicked up to meet his own.
Alec smiled softly, “Hey babe. Bad day?”
Magnus huffed a little wet laugh, “Apparently so.”
Alec nodded, “Want to talk about it?” He was supremely unsurprised when Magnus responded with a shake of his head. Nodding in response, Alec repositioned himself so he was sitting just in front of his boyfriend. He raised his hand to unwind Magnus’ fingers from his own hair and then ran a thumb across tear stained cheeks.
“What ever happened, you’re ok. We can talk about it later, but let me take care of you now?”
After a length pause, Magnus leaned into his hand and nodded ever slow gently. Smiling, Alec shifted to help draw his partner out from his hiding post. Magnus went limply with him, allowing himself to be stood upright and undressed.
He didn’t flinch when the spray of the shower first hit his skin, or when Alec guided him into sitting on the tiled bench. He didn’t react at all until he noticed strong hands massaging his scalps and cleaning away the day, both physically and emotionally.
Some indeterminable period of time later found him dried, dressed in soft lounge clothes and tucked up against Alexander’s chest in bed. Magnus hummed and burrowed his cheek into the strong muscle beneath it, content to lay in the same position forever.
Alec’s hand was carding through his hair gently, while his other arm was wrapped tightly around Magnus’s waist, keeping him pulled in tight. Everything was warm and smelt like home. It was the most content Magnus had been in quite some time.
Attuned as he was to his partner, Alec noticed Magnus began to come back to himself and decided it was time to find out what happend.
“Are you ready to talk?”
The soft rumble from beneath his check didn’t startle Magnus, but he did frown. Couldn’t they just exist in this sphere of warmth forever? Centuries of wisdom had already given him the answer to that question, but it was nice to dream occasionally.
“It was just a shit day I guess.”
Magnus felt, more than heard, Alec hum in response. He knew he was leaving it open for Magnus to discuss, but would drop it if he really didn’t feel like he could. Refusing to be out matured but someone less than 1/20th of his age, Magnus resolved to do the adult thing and open the box.
He outlined in efficient, detached phrases exactly what had gone wrong with the client from Edom and how it made him feel. He explained how hard it is was to swing from consoling one client then swooping in to another appointment without giving himself time to process. How difficult he found sorting through all the sob stories he was given as people pleaded for free or discounted help, only to be burned, again, by a con artist while skipping over real suffering. He tried to explain how drained he felt. How empty and alone and lost and useless we was.
Alec held him through it all. Murmuring reassurances when needed and pressing gentle kisses to the top of Magnus’ head.
When he finished speaking Alec hugged him tight for a moment, before freeing one hand and using it to tip Magnus’ chin up. “Love, I think you need a break, you sound like you are absolutely exhausted.”
Magnus began to shake his head, “All I do is conjure things for rich housewives while you are literally fighting for your life every day and…”
Alec cut him off with a kiss and a gently smile, “I didn’t say I wasn’t also tired, but there is more than one type of exhaustion. What you do... It requires a lot of emotional energy, a lot of compassion.” He paused and shifted them both, so he could more easily stare into his partner’s eyes, “I know that the Nephilim tend to be terrible at valuing those things, but you’ve trained me better than that. Catarina would have my head if I let myself think otherwise.”
Magnus smiled at the thought of Cat stalking into the institute and demanding to speak with Alexander Lightwood because he did not value emotional labour highly enough. The thought made him chuckle.
Alec pushed on, “We would never have made it this far if you hadn’t managed to beat the importance of feelings into us, so hear me when I say, you are exhausted. You have nothing left to give. I think we should go away somewhere, just the two of us, and recharge for a bit. What do you think?”
Another tear slipped out of Magnus’ eye, but this one, he ignored, “I think that sounds positively delightful.”