Chapter Text
When Alexander Lightwood was a young boy, he’d always known he was different.
There’d never been any words for that feeling, nothing to explain how he felt – not for the longest time. Just a sense inside of him that put him apart from those around him.
It wasn’t until he was almost eleven years old that he finally found out why.
Later, when some time had passed, a part of Alec would be more than grateful that he’d been alone in his room when everything happened, and the truth finally broke free.
At the time, all Alec could really think about was how miserable he’d felt. For days and days he’d been feeling sort of off, like there was something not quite right. He didn’t think he was getting sick; shadowhunters didn’t typically get sick. Even if they did, they worked through it, and they definitely didn’t whine about it. Maryse had drilled that into his head years ago. While Isabelle might get away with crying over something, being the baby and all, Alec was the eldest. He was held to much stricter standards than his sister was.
He tried to pretend that it didn’t hurt when he watched his parents dote on Isabelle while they ignored him. The way Robert would pick her up, how he’d call her his little princess. (Alec had stopped being his mother’s little prince a long, long time ago)
In the end, he told himself there just wasn’t any point in saying anything to them about not feeling well. It wasn’t like there was any one thing that Alec could point to anyway to say what was wrong. Just a feeling of not-quite-right that stuck with him through his daily training. Besides, he was home on leave at the moment from the Academy, and while ‘leave’ didn’t actually mean taking a break in their family, Alec could at least get some rest. More than he would there. He could try and sneak in a little extra sleep and everything would be fine.
However, by the time Alec went back to his rooms that night, what had started out as just feeling unwell had turned into an almost too-tight sensation to his skin. Like it was stretched out way too thin in some places. And it itched. Angel, did it itch! Some spots itched so bad Alec had to fight not to scratch his skin raw. More than once Hodge had told him to stop scratching during lessons today.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, there was an ever-growing pain in his back that ached each time he twisted or bent.
Alec was a shadowhunter – he was tough, and strong, and he wasn’t a whiner. His Mom had taught him not to be. Though it’d been hard, he’d done his best to keep everything inside except the a little scratching here and there, and it seemed to have work. Aside from Hodge’s scolding no one had really noticed anything off about him. Not even Isabelle.
Hiding things was something Alec was getting good at. He had to. If he let the people at the Academy see how much their taunts got to him, let them see how their words hurt, his life there would be so much harder. People already weren’t that fond of the Lightwoods for some reason or another. Alec wasn’t going to give them anything more to make fun of him for.
He remembered the look on his Mom’s face after he punched that kid in training. How proud she’d been of him for standing up for himself, and for taking his punishment with the Clave without flinching. Alec kept hold of that memory and used it to help himself feel strong no matter what anyone said.
Which was why he curled up by himself in bed that night and tried to ignore the pain, the feeling of prickles under his skin and the painful ache in his back, and just go to sleep. Maybe it’d be better in the morning. Maybe this would all just go away and he’d be fine.
Even at eleven years old, he knew it was a lie, but he was well practiced at tricking himself into believing it.
Luck definitely wasn’t on Alec’s side.
He woke up just a few hours later sweating, his body and joints aching like he’d gone a few extra rounds in training and then been dropped into boiling water, and with his back screaming like someone was trying to carve their way into it. He had to bite down on his pillow to keep from crying out when the pain seemed to spike the instant he was awake enough to feel it.
That itching that had been bothering him so much had gotten stronger than ever. It spread over every inch of Alec’s skin, prickling him from the inside out. It had Alec gripping at the blankets to fight back the urge to scratch and scratch until it finally went away.
For one brief moment Alec thought about calling out to his parents for help. A small part of him wanted the comfort of his mom’s presence. Even if she wasn’t happy with him about it, she always had the answer to things. And Alec was beyond trying to worry about being weak. Forget that – something was clearly wrong with him! Something had happened and he just, he didn’t know what. A spell, maybe? Mom always said warlocks weren’t to be trusted. But, Alec hadn’t been around any?
Thinking of his parents’ faces if he dared to go down to their room, however – that was enough to have Alec rethinking his plan. He knew exactly what kind of response they’d give without any proof that he was actually injured. After all, he wasn’t a baby any longer. They wouldn’t coddle her for being weak.
The itching and pain intensified, and Alec lost all coherent thought after that as it felt like his skin was suddenly on fire.
Alec gave a brief moment to be grateful that he usually slept with a soundless rune on his door anyway to keep anyone from hearing if he had a nightmare, or in case Isabelle snuck into his room again because she had a nightmare. Then there was no room left for thinking. Face buried in his pillow, Alec screamed, and the whole world exploded around him.
Something was sliding through the pores of his skin like burning water. It was like his blood was boiling and pouring out of him, and his spine seemed to snap bit by bit by bit. He was burning, breaking, ripping apart, his whole word ablaze until there was nothing but the pain. If he’d had a voice for more than just the screams, he would’ve desperately called out for his parents.
Then, between one heartbeat and the next, it felt like a breeze blew over Alec and the heat changed into something so cold it made him shiver. It washed over him, chasing away the burning sensation until it was just an echo, a memory that would linger on the edges of his mind.
Alec hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes while it was happening. Nor how tightly he’d been gripping at the bedsheets. Not until the pain was gone and he was finally able to start to relax.
His hands ached with the force he was squeezing. Slowly, carefully, he began to uncurl his hands, waiting every second for the pain to come back. Why had it stopped? He couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes yet. Not until his fingers caught in the bedsheets and no amount of tugging would get them free.
When Alec finally opened his eyes, if only to see what was going on, another scream tore from his already abused throat.
Those… those weren’t his hands. They weren’t his hands.
Alec jerked his hands back, everything in him screaming retreat, and it stole his breath as he watched those as those things moved, curled, responded to his every command, but that couldn’t be possible, they weren’t his. There was no way they were his! This had to be – there had to be some sort of trick. Those weren’t his hands!
It looked like something had been dusted over his knuckles, a sense of something green like moss that spilled over them, shining in the light. His nails had grown a little, too, ab it more pointed without being fully claw-like, and that was what was keeping them locked into the bedding.
Alec gave another hard yank. With a loud tearing sound, his hands were suddenly free. Unfortunately, the force of the tug also sent him flying off the side of the bed. He tumbled over the edge and down onto something hard, far harder than the stone floor he’d tried to brace for. Whatever it was he landed on sent every inch of Alec’s body screaming all over again.
Yet none of that was compared to the feeling that clamped tight around his heart when he caught sight of the rest of him.
The fall had yanked the blankets away and left the lower half of his body on display. Alec stared in horror at his legs – the right one looked normal, but his left… from toe to mid-thigh, it looked like that faint dusting he’d seen on his knuckles, only more. Green, glittering scales, some of them dark enough to look almost black while others were light and shining, marked most of his leg from his toes all the way up to his boxers.
“Oh Raziel,” Alec breathed out, the only words he could get out past the lump in his throat. “Raziel.”
Scrambling backward, the panic growing, Alec twisted around and pushed up off the ground, knocking over so many things as he went. Forget his parents mocking him for being weak. Something had happened to him – someone had done something! Alec got ready to run for it, desperately needing someone to come in and fix this, only to catch sight of his room.
What had once been a bare, organized room was now an absolute mess.
Alec stared, half off the ground, at the wreckage around him. What happened? The footboard of his bed was cracked down the middle, and one of the posts was actually broke off, the pieces of it shattered all around him. The dresser had been knocked over, his truck where he kept his weapons was broken with the lid hanging loose, and his clothes were everywhere. Some of them looked shredded by what looked like pieces of the bedpost.
Don’t panic, a voice in Alec’s mind scolded him. It sounded far too much like his mother for comfort. You’re a shadowhunter. Shadowhunters don’t panic. If we panic, we die. Calm down, assess the situation, and then do what must be done.
Those words had made Alec grit his teeth more than once in the past. He hated hearing them. Hated how they always made him feel like he was failing somehow. Now, he gripped tightly to them and used them to try and calm himself. He drew in a few deep breaths as he repeated those words until, finally, he felt less like he was going to break. Next, he did his best to assess himself.
He was sore, but it didn’t feel like he was burning anymore, he wasn’t bleeding, and so far nothing seemed broken. There was a solid ache in his back that throbbed like a deep bruise each time he breathed, but that could’ve come from falling on whatever he’d landed on. Honestly, aside from his skin, he was in far better condition than his room.
Reaching out, Alec braced one hand on the bed and used it to push himself slowly upright. As he did, he tried to draw in a deep breath to steady himself. He was a shadowhunter, not some pathetic little mundane. Suck it up!
The ache in Alec’s back grew more when he rose. He couldn’t focus on that yet, though. Not when he was still trying not to panic about everything else.
Just how bad was this? How bad had this thing, whatever it was… how much was he marked?
The young boy took in a deep, shuddering breath. He knew he should go and get his parents. Not for comfort, not like he’d originally wanted, but because something had clearly happened to him and he needed their help to figure it out. And yet, somehow, Alec found his legs carrying him, not to the door, but to the bathroom. The one little luxury he’d been given with his upgrade to an ‘adult’ room.
Alec walked in there on legs that felt numb. His whole body had started to feel both numb and heavy, like something was pressing him down. It mad eit hard to move without toppling over, and yet somehow, he still managed to walk into the bathroom and turn on the light.
For one moment he stayed where he was, facing the toilet and the shower. Then, slowly, he turned toward the mirror.
The sight of his reflection drew a soft, aching gasp from Alec, and the horror he’d felt before came back tenfold, twisting his stomach. This was – it was so much worse than he’d thought. So much worse. It wasn’t just his arms and leg that had been changed. “Raziel.”
Half of Alec’s face had been marked by whatever this, this thing was. Shining, glittering scales glittered across his brow, over his cheekbone, up over his temple and into his hairline. Little, smaller lines of scales snaked away from the central mark – into his eyebrow, one line down his cheek, and a smaller one ghosting up toward his forehead. It covered his left ear, a few lines snaking toward his jawline, and then traveled down the whole left side of his neck where it bled over his collarbone, his shoulder, and down his entire left arm all the way to his fingertips.
His right arm was different. The scales flowed up his arm from fingertip to elbow, covering almost all his skin, until it thinned out into little lines just partially up above his elbow, and then it stopped.
Seeing all of that was bad enough. Alec looked at himself and felt a kind of terror he hadn’t even felt when staring at the books on demons when he was just a baby.
But those scales weren’t the worst. Alec shifted, and the truth of just how much he’d changed became apparent in the air behind him, drawing his eyes away from his skin for the first time since he’d come in.
What Alec saw drew another shaky gasp from him. The strange weight on his back suddenly made a whole lot more sense, and his panic grew. That pain wasn’t just from falling on something.
It was from his wings.
Two wings peeked up over Alec’s shoulder, rising up in time with the tugging in his back in a way that made it clear they weren’t just back there – they were attached. Alec twitched, and the wings twitched with him, spreading out like they sensed him looking at them, giving him his first terrifying look at them.
The first thing he saw were feathers. Only, they weren’t like what he thought of when he thought of feathers and wings. They weren’t white with the pure light of Heaven. They looked like they’d been green once. A pretty green, even. Only, they looked like they’d been… burnt. The edges and the bones were black, like they’d all been charred. That was just the top half, though. After that the feathers gave way to something that looked tough and leathery.
They aren’t angel wings, a part of Alec murmured, and he wanted to laugh and cry and scream all at the same time. Because, no, those weren’t angel wings. They were like someone had taken angel wings and burned away everything that made them good until this was all that was left.
Staring at his reflection, Alec felt sick.
He was… he was a monster.
A demon.
The scales of some sort of creature, the broken wings that looked like they belonged on a fallen angel, one who’d crashed down into the hell realms. Wings he would’ve pictured on Lucifer himself, or one of the Greater Demons.
Alec lifted one hand, almost like he was going to reach out and touch his reflection. Like that might somehow make this real. He couldn’t bring himself to reach back and actually touch the wings themselves. But he lifted his hand and brought it up to the mirror, ignoring his wide eyes or the way his fingers trembled, and he reached out to brush his hand against the glass in front of him, only to get stopped once again.
Not because of how it looked, though. But because all around Alec’s hand swirled a light that seemed to be shifting between blue and orange.
That was – that was too much. It was too much. Alec doubled over and felt like he was going to be sick.
As a part of his training, he’d been well versed in all types of demons, beings, and Downworlders out there. Looking at this, seeing the swirl of colors around his hand, there was no doubt in Alec’s mind what it was. No moment of what the heck is that. It was like Alec’s mind blanked almost entirely of everything else. From some far, distant part of his mind was a calm voice going oh, yes, of course, that’s magic, that’s what did this. That’s what caused that mess.
There was no doubt, only a certainty he couldn’t deny while staring at the glittering scales of what was undoubtedly a warlock mark.
Somehow, someway, Alexander Lightwood, oldest of the Lightwood children, part of an old and respected shadowhunter line… had magic.
The numbness he’d been granted for that one single moment didn’t last long. When it vanished, the fear that Alec had been feeling before came rushing back.
Alec knew as surely as he knew his own name that this wasn’t something he could let anyone see. This wasn’t just some spell done to mess with him. No one had used magic against him. No – this was his. His body, his magic. He only needed to look down at the swirls of blue magic around his hands to know that. Or step back out into his bedroom and look at the damage that his magic had caused.
How it was possible, he had no idea. But he was… he was a warlock. A warlock and a shadowhunter.
Mom’s going to kill me.
Those words sent a shiver down Alec’s spine. They weren’t just hyperbole. Alec knew how his parents thought about Downworlders, no matter how they tried to hide it from others sometimes. He’d seen the scorn on her mom’s face when she would talk about warlocks and how they were tricky bastards, they weren’t to be trusted. They were half-demon, and that was why they were marked, so everyone would know.
Alec stared at his reflection with wide, tear-filled eyes. A reflection that, up until this evening, had been normal. And as he looked, he knew – I’ll never be normal again.
No, he was a freak. A shadowhunter and a warlock both, with a mark as well as runes covering his skin. It didn’t seem possible, yet there was no denying what was right there in front of him.
Alec’s thoughts were interrupted when someone banged on the main door of his room. “Alec, get up!” Robert’s voice shouted through the wood. “We’ve got an alarm. Someone used magic in the Institute. Go to your sister’s room and watch her until we get back.”
There were no other word. Robert didn’t even wait around to see if he’d woken up or if he was going to answer. The man had given Alec orders – it was up to him to obey them. Only… he couldn’t. How was Alec supposed to go out there looking like this? What would happen when the other shadowhunters saw him? When they realized Alec was the one who’d caused the magical blast?
I’ve gotta get out of here.
That thought broke through all the others, and Alec knew it was his only option. He didn’t even entertain the idea of having his parents help him. Not anymore. He knew what they thought, and he could only imagine what waited for him if the others saw him, or if they turned him in to the Clave. It didn’t matter how hard Alec had worked at being a shadowhunter. They were only going to see this.
Alec had to get out of here before someone found him. That was the only answer. If he stayed here… He had to go. Somewhere far, far away from here.
Once the decision was made it was like Alec’s body moved on autopilot. Hurrying from the bathroom, he walked through the wreckage of his room and gathered up what clothes he could find to stuff down into a bag. Then he did his best to dress quickly and carefully, ignoring the way his… his wings… made it impossible to put a shirt on. He shuddered past that and settled for wrapping his sheet tightly around himself, tying his wings tight against his back. It would have to do for now.
He treated it like he was going out for a mission. Black jeans, a jacket, a belt, his seraph blade at his hip, his stele, and the bow he’d been working so hard to practice with. The one he’d kept hidden in his closet so he could work on the draw in here where there was no one to tell him that weapons like these were worthless compared to all the other choices.
It wasn’t easy to do with fingers like claws. Yet Alec managed to get things on without doing more than tearing a few holes.
Once he had everything on, he adjusted the blanket around himself and did his best to draw a section up like a hood. It was crude, and wouldn’t hold up under much scrutiny, but that was fine. It only needed to work long enough to get him out of here. Then…
Then he’d figure out what to do next.
Sneaking around the Institute wasn’t hard. Alec had done it plenty of times in the past. He knew how to get to the kitchens, how to get to Isabelle’s room, where all the best places were to duck down and hide from people passing in the hall. He used those to his best advantage now as he hurried as quickly as he could down the hall. It wasn’t easy – moving with this new body had him stumbling along, not used to the extra weight.
The only blessing was that most of the shadowhunters sounded like they were all headed down towards the Ops Center. That made the hallways emptier. Though, it raised the risk of the cameras catching him.
Alec ducked down into the nearest hall he could where he knew the cameras were broken. Once he was in there, he breathed a small sigh of relief. Then he tugged the bag further up his shoulder, made sure his face was still covered, and then hurried forward.
Just up ahead was a statue that had a little hidden doorway behind it. One that Alec and Isabelle had found once and then used plenty of times to slip out to the yard for a little playtime. Or, well, Isabelle went to play. Alec went to keep her out of trouble and make sure she wasn’t caught.
He’d made it to the statue and had just slipped behind it when a voice caught him off guard.
“Alec?”
Alec’s heart felt like it stopped in his chest. He froze, half behind the statue, and debated for a moment whether just bolting might work. The only thing that stopped him was that he knew Isabelle would try and follow him. She was always trying to follow Alec everywhere.
Slowly, carefully turning himself so that the shadows kept the left side of his face hidden, Alec turned to face his little sister. “What, Izzy?”
“Where’re you going?”
The younger girl moved up toward him without fear. She was always so fearless.
Why wasn’t Isabelle in bed? She was supposed to be shut away somewhere safe when the Institute alarms went off; she wasn’t old enough to go and fight. Not yet. Alec had fought with his parents on that. He’d wanted to make sure that Isabelle stayed out of the fighting for as long as possible. Let her stay a little girl as long as she could. I won’t be able to do that anymore.
That thought had Alec’s voice just a little sharper than usual when he spoke again. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”
“And you’re supposed to be with me. The alarm went off – that means you come to my room. But you were taking too long, so I was coming to get you. How come you’re sneakin’ out?”
This wasn’t a conversation that Alec had wanted to have. He’d wanted to just go. Disappear and never look back. The thought of talking to their parents was an impossible one, and talking to Isabelle…he hadn’t been sure he’d be able to make it to her room and then back out without being seen. Besides, he had no idea what to tell her. He was barely even thinking himself. All his focus was on getting somewhere safe, and everything in him, even in this strange magic he felt growing stronger with each moment, Alec knew that here wasn’t safe.
How could he explain this to her? How could he run the risk of his sister looking at him with the same horror on her face that Alec felt inside?
For as young as she was, Isabelle was smart. Far smarter than Alec. She was going to be brilliant and deadly one day.
Too fast for Alec to stop her, she darted forward, latching onto Alec’s arm to keep him from moving away. She used that hold to draw herself in behind the statue as well, squishing in there until there was no one someone would see them unless they were right upon them, and there was no way for Alec to get away. Isabelle was little, but she was good at getting what she wanted, even if it meant trapping her big brother so he was forced to answer her.
“What is it?” Isabelle demanded. She tightened her grip on Alec’s arm and glared up at him with the kind of defiance that would get her in so much trouble one day. Yet, if she kept it, it would also likely take her far. “You know what attacked, don’t you? You’re going after it!”
Alec swallowed down the lump that was trying to build in his throat. It didn’t go down easy, choking him as it went. “No.” The word came out far more hoarse than Alec had wanted. What could he say, though? How could he tell Isabelle about this?
He watched in the dim light as Isabelle’s eyes narrowed on him in a look so reminiscent of their mother it was like a fist to the gut. She looked down, her gaze taking in the bag that Alec was wearing as well as the bow over his shoulder. Then she looked up, tilting her head to try and catch sight of him underneath the hood, that same curious look Alec had seen her wear when she devoured the books he brought her.
Alec didn’t know what to say. He felt frozen, knowing that he needed to say something and yet not sure what. What was he supposed to do here? Did he risk explaining this to Isabelle, or did he come up with some sort of elaborate lie?
He should’ve known Isabelle would take the choice out of his hands. For one so small Isabelle could move fast when she wanted. She darted in lightning-fast and lifted a hand up to shove at Alec’s hood.
Just barely did Alec manage to jerk back and reach up to catch his hood before it was pulled fully off. Even so, he knew by the wide-eyed look Isabelle was giving him that his sister had seen something underneath it.
“By the angel,” Isabelle breathed out. Her eyes went even wider. “You’re the one…”
“I didn’t mean to do it!” Alec blurted out before he could stop himself. Now that she knew, the words came tumbling out of him. “I swear, Iz, I didn’t know! It just, I was in my room and it just happened.”
“Oh, Alec.”
To Alec’s surprise, instead of pulling away or running off screaming, Isabelle did the exact opposite. She slammed herself forward and wrapped tightly around Alec. The hug was tight enough to almost cut off air, and yet Alec didn’t dare move her. He wrapped his own arms around his little sister and held her close the same way he’d always done. When Isabelle’s hands brushed her wings, he felt her startle, but Isabelle said nothing. She just clung tighter.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
Buried against him the way she was, it was hard to hear Isabelle’s voice. Yet Alec was well used to listening to even the faintest whispers from Isabelle. He’d been taking care of her since the day she was born.
The sadness present in those words was like getting punched again. Alec closed his eyes and buried his face against Isabelle’s hair. How many times was he going to have to hurt tonight? How many blows was he supposed to take and still keep on going?
Alec fought to clear his throat and steady his voice. Now, more than ever, he needed to be strong. Not just for himself anymore. For Isabelle. Being strong for Isabelle had always been so much easier than being strong for himself. For her, he could do anything. Even if it meant breaking both their hearts.
“I have to,” Alec said softly. He turned his face in a little until his nose rubbed through Isabelle’s hair. She smelled like that rose shampoo their father had brought back for her from his travels. It was a scent that was pure Isabelle. One that Alec was going to take with him. “You know I do, Izzy. If Mom and Dad see me like this and knew I… that I…”
“Take me with you?”
Agony was like a living thing inside of Alec. This was worse than what had happened earlier. Worse than the burning, the changing, the fear and pain he’d gone through afterward. Hearing Isabelle sound so small, so desperate, was torture. Especially when they both knew what answer Alec had to give. “You can’t.”
When Isabelle pulled back, her face was dry but her eyes were wet. “Why not? I don’t wanna stay here without you!” Then, in the way of every child Alec had ever met – he’d long since stopped considering himself one – Isabelle actually stamped her foot and demanded, “Who’s gonna take care of me, huh? Who’s gonna help make sure I eat and practice? Who’s gonna spar with me?”
He didn’t try and reassure her that their parents would do it. They knew better. It’d been Alec taking care of Isabelle for her whole life. The best Alec could offer was, “Mom and Dad will find you someone else, Izzy-Bella.” Alec let go of Isabelle with one hand so he could reach up to tuck a bit of her loose hair behind her ear. “You’ll be fine. And maybe… maybe I’ll figure out a way to fix this, whatever this is, and I’ll come back.”
Just as he’d know she would, Isabelle latched onto that, hope brightening her eyes. “You’ll come back?”
“Maybe.” That was the best promise Alec could give, and they both knew it. Only Alec could taste the lie behind his words.
Noise nearby reminded the two of them that they weren’t alone here. Their time was limited. Alec needed to go, now, before someone
Alec pulled on the edge of his blanket and curled it over his hand so he could wipe at the few tears that were trying to spill down Isabelle’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, Izzy. I am. But, I have to do this, okay?”
“I’ll miss you,” Isabelle said softly. That was the same soft, sad little voice she sometimes got at night when she came to Alec after her nightmares. Who was going to do that for her in the future? Who would she go to now?
Fighting back the pain in his heart, and the aching in his gut, Alec bent down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll miss you too.”
It was the hardest thing Alec had ever done to make himself let go of his sister. He drew his arms back and reminded himself that this was for the best. This was what he had to do. “I love you, Izzy. Don’t forget that, okay? No matter what anyone else says.”
Those words had never been ones easily said in their family. But they were ones that Alec had always made sure to say to Isabelle from the very start. He’d always wanted her to know just how loved she was. How important.
Isabelle sniffed. “I love you too.” Then she drew on that part of her that was just as much of a shadowhunter as anyone else. The tough part that would make her amazing as a shadowhunter one day. Even though her eyes were still watering, she met Alec’s gaze head-on and as serious as she’d ever been. “Don’t you forget it either, hermano. Even if you… even if you can’t come back for Mom and Dad. I’ll always want you. No matter what, okay?”
Emotion clogged Alec’s throat so badly he couldn’t answer. All he could do was give a quick, sharp nod.
Then Isabelle stepped back, moving out of the way, and Alec’s pathway was clear. He took one last look at his sister, his brave little warrior – one last image to take with him. And then Alec turned, slipped into the passageway, and he was gone.
He didn’t know where he was going to go or what he was going to do. He had no plan beyond getting out of the Institute before someone found him. But that could be figured out he was out there.
Once he was safe.
Getting out of the Institute turned out to be the easiest part for Alec. Being out on the streets… that part, not so much.
He had nowhere to go, no idea what to do, no mundane money to help him, and only a base knowledge of runes to help him out. He knew the most important ones, at least. Dad had been drilling him on them for quite a while now. Which, thankfully, meant that he knew the runes necessary to keep himself hidden from sight, as well as a few other tricks. The last thing he needed was a mundane spotting him.
Well, no, the last thing he needed was to be spotted by a shadowhunter or even a Downworlder. If they found him, they’d either drag him back and hand him over to the Clave, or they’d kill him on the spot.
So, Alec did the only thing he could think of to do. He found a spot down near the docks where he knew the water would make it harder, if not impossible, for anyone to track him. Then he nosed around until he found a warehouse that looked like no one ever went in it. All he needed was somewhere he could curl up, just for a little bit, and try to figure out what the hell he was going to do next.
There, with no one around to see and no one for him to risk hurting, he let go of the iron-clad control that had been gripping him from the moment he’d started at himself in the mirror and had been forced to confront what he’d become. Alec sank down against the wall and curled his knees up towards his chest, wings curling around him as he did. In the shelter of that cocoon, he held his hands out against his thighs and looked at them with a sense of aching horror.
The scales shone faintly in the low light of the moon that crept in around him. They weren’t as dark as he’d first thought. Like this, he could see that they were definitely green. Kind of like the jewels in his mom’s fancy necklace, only nowhere near as pretty. Not to him, at least.
Staring at them, Alec wanted to clench his fists and hit something, only he was scared of pressing his fingernails – his claws – into his hands and breaking skin.
Why now? Weren’t warlocks born the way they were? If that was what he was, why had it waited until now to happen? Could… had his family known? Known and somehow repressed it?
Alec dropped his face down to bury against his hands. He tried to ignore the press of his claws against his forehead and he took a ragged breath, and then another. All the while the same question repeated in his head. What am I going to do?
There was no going back. Even if Alec’s parents had known and they’d somehow been responsible for repressing things, it clearly wasn’t working anymore, and what they might do to fix that…or if they found out they couldn’t fix it…
Selfish though it might be, Alec couldn’t give them that chance.
Nor could he go seek out help. He was alone. Well and truly alone.
Closing his eyes tight, as if that might somehow stop the traitorous tears that were burning in them, Alec tried to find the calm that his parents had taught him. The one that had gotten him through so many different things already. He was destined to be a leader one day – leaders don’t curl up in corners and freak out.
You’re not gonna be the leader of anything anymore, his brain helpfully pointed out.
The thought had Alec swallowing down bile.
Around his hands, he felt a sort of tingle start to build. Just the faintest echo of what he’d felt earlier. It was enough to have him jerking out of his thoughts and back to the present.
When he drew his hands back off his face, he found that they were once more glowing. Only this time, the magic was just blue, not orange or any other color. Nor did it feel angry. It felt… soothing, almost. Like it was trying to… make her feel better.
As Alec stared at the magic he’d never wanted, a magic that he would get rid of if he could, he knew the first thing he had to do. He had to figure out a way to control it so that what happened earlier in his bedroom never happened again.
The archives were full of stories of warlocks who’d lost their power and caused some serious destruction. That was the last thing Alec wanted to happen. He had to learn how to control this so he could be safe. Plenty of warlocks learned how, and from what he saw in a few files, they’d done it on their own, too. At least some of the time. He could do the same. He could hide out down here by the water to keep from being found and practice each and every day until he had things under control. Then… he wasn’t sure what he would do next. There was no home to go back to, no matter what happened. He was well and truly alone.
First things first, get this under control. The rest can come later.
Determination had Alec slowly straightening himself up from the curled up position he’d been hiding in.
This was just like some of the training exercises they’d done at the Academy. Only, instead of the woods, he was on the streets of New York. The principal of the matter was the same, though. Alec needed to find shelter, make sure he was protected against the elements and any people or demons, and then see about getting some food, too. He’d have to find somewhere secure. Somewhere that he wouldn’t risk being easily found by strangers.
Laying here and cowering while he whined about his problems wasn’t going to get him anywhere.
Alec tugged at that feeling of magic in his hands, pleased to see as it retreated back under his skin, a warm sensation that was surprisingly soothing. If only his marks were as easy to hide. He’d figure that out, too, though. He’d figure it all out. He had to. For now, getting the magic off his hands was a good first step in what he needed to do.
That done, he pushed himself up to his feet with a determination no child should have to have. One that had been forced into him at a age far younger than even most shadowhunters.
It was time to get to work.