Chapter Text
The sun was just starting to dip low in the sky when Alec Lightwood stood at the back of his truck and loaded his groceries inside. A quick look up at the sky told him it was smart to have stuck the canopy on his truck. A storm was rolling in from the ocean. By his best guess, he probably had about an hour at most to get back home and get things unloaded before the first rain hit.
Alec moved a little quicker, loading up the last of the groceries and shutting the back hatch. He got the grocery cart in one of the nearby caddies before heading to the driver’s seat.
The drive home from the store was a short one, thankfully, which meant he had more than enough time to beat the rain. It was still far enough away when Alec pulled into his driveway that he knew he had plenty of time to get all his groceries inside.
For a moment Alec sat in his truck and just took a second to look up at the place he called home. Once, a few years ago, home would’ve been the New York Institute. It would’ve meant cold stone halls, rooms full of people, his sister’s laugh echoing down the hall and his brother’s bright grin. It would’ve been alerts at all hours of the day and night. People constantly coming to him with questions, demands, problems, things that needed fixing. And those problems were always life or death.
Now? Now, home was a private, cozy little house with two bedrooms and an office, tucked into this little cove by the beach. Home was cold winds, far more rain than any one place should have, and a roof that sometimes leaked when the weather got bad. It was drinking coffee while watching the sun come up on his back porch. Home was where the only alarm that went off was the one to wake him up at five so he could get a good workout in before he had to go to work.
A lot had changed in Alec’s life in the past two years. But he’d found a sort peace here that he’d been lacking for most of his life.
Being here, living in this house, afforded Alec some privacy away from the world around him, something he’d so desperately needed when he’d come here. A place for him to relax and unwind and escape from everything without making him so far removed that he ran the risk of becoming a shut-in. With the place he’d been in when he first came here, that had been a distinct possibility.
It wasn’t hard for Alec to picture the expressions some people from his old life might wear if they caught sight of him at his new home. Or the way they’d look at him driving up in this new truck. Where once the thought might’ve bothered him, now Alec found that it entertained him.
The life Alec had once lived was so far removed from the one he was currently living. They were so different in so many ways. The biggest one being that, for the first time in his life, Alec found himself happy. Truly, honestly happy, in a way he hadn’t known it was possible to be.
From the moment Alec had been born it’d felt like his life was one big training session to get him to some unattainable goal. He had to be better, faster, stronger, always reaching up towards the stars, trying to grab the brass ring that his parents and others set for him. Yet each time he got close, each time he thought he might make it, they changed the rules around on him and lifted it a little higher.
The expectations Alec had lived under were crushing. He had to be the best in his class, the best in his training groups. He needed to achieve top marks at the Academy. He needed to be better than those kids, and then better than Jace, and then the best there was. He needed to learn how to control himself. To be a Shadowhunter, one had to learn to control their emotions. Emotions were a distraction. Alec had to be better than that. If he wanted to be Head of the Institute, he had to be worthy.
No one had ever bothered asking Alec if that was what he wanted to do. He’d been told for as long as he could remember that he was going to be Institute Head one day. Alec had just followed along.
Then life had changed. Everything had changed.
All because of one tiny little redhead who had come in and disturbed the status quo.
Clary Fairchild’s arrival had stirred up life in the Institute in so many different ways. For a while, Alec had done his best to roll with it. He’d helped his siblings as they sought to reclaim Clary’s memories, get her reintroduced to the shadow world, track down her mother, and countless other things that were absolutely vital and yet not a one of them could spare the time to listen to him about how to do it right and safe. He’d fought against his siblings, the ones who should’ve had his back, should’ve respected his authority, until he was forced to give in time and time again.
Alec had fought beside them all through Valentine’s return and the whole mess that came with it. He’d even done his damndest to try and fix the damage that his people and the Circle had caused despite the whole new set of impossible expectations it’d put on him.
Once Alec started working toward building his Downworlder Council, a fight he’d had to wage on both sides, it was like all sides of it decided that Alec was the one personally responsible for what the others did. If the Downworld started acting up, caused any sort of trouble, or pushed back against the Clave, it was Alec’s fault for giving them too much leeway and not trying to control them. If the Clave said or did something stupid, it was his fault because he was a shadowhunter, and clearly he wasn’t trying hard enough to fix things.
The more Alec tried to do to help, the more it felt like he was getting everything wrong. The Clave was constantly breathing down his neck, the Council was demanding more and more out of him that Alec knew he couldn’t promise to give, his siblings were almost constantly frustrated at him for trying to make them follow the rules. They repeatedly broke them and ignored what he had to say while simultaneously demanding that he listen to them and do everything they said.
By the time it was all over, and Valentine was dead, Alec was done.
The memory was one that haunted him, even now. Alec tried to push it back a little as he finally went inside his home, and through the putting away of his groceries, but eventually the memories crept up on him until he finally gave in. Grabbing a fresh cup of coffee, Alec made his way to the back porch to watch the last of the storm roll in with clouds as dark as his own thoughts.
There, in the relative safety of the little haven he’d carved out for himself, Alec let his thoughts drift back to the past. Back to the lowest time of his life.
Some of his memories towards the end of the war were hazy. But it was those final moments when everything broke that were the clearest.
Alec could remember the feeling of hitting his knees there on the shores of Lake Lyn. He could remember the cold of the mud, the sharp prick of a broken branch stabbing somewhere against his left shin.
Valentine was dead, Jace was alive, and the shadow world was safe. All the things that had kept Alec going for months were finally done. He should be able to rest. Only, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Just because the war was done didn’t mean the battles were over. There was still the Council, who was going to be hell to handle after all the recent troubles with the Seelie Queen. The Clave, who would seek to disband his Council the instant Alec reported Valentine’s death. They wouldn’t see the need for keeping it going now that there was no mortal threat over them all. And all the other little troubles that had been piling up and would now demand his attention.
Alec felt a broken laugh tumble its way up his throat. He stared out at the waters of Lake Lyn and felt himself laugh, and laugh, and laugh.
He didn’t hear the voices of his family, nor feel their hands as they tried to drag him up. All Alec could do was kneel there and laugh and sob. They were all so happy – they thought it was over. None of them had any idea. It wasn’t over. It would never be over. This was going to be Alec’s life, day in and day out, a constant war he never stood any chance of winning.
The punch to the face that knocked him out felt like a blessing.
When Alec had woken up from that, he’d been in the infirmary back at the New York Institute with no one at his side save for Magnus Bane, who’d been called in to try and heal him. None of the healers there had understood what was wrong with him, and they’d proclaimed him healthy. Magnus had proclaimed him healthy, even if he’d looked suspicious about it.
Alec hadn’t argued it.
But he had begun to plan.
In the next two weeks Alec put together a plan. It took the entirety of those two weeks to make everything work. There were long meetings with Imogen, a few shouting matches with his parents, and countless preparations that were made. Alec took care of everything he could at the Institute to guarantee that his people and his ideals were going to be taken care of long after he was gone.
He filled out the paperwork for the Institute to pass to one of the only people he felt like he could trust to continue his work that the Clave wouldn’t immediately protest. He appointed Lydia Branwell as Head of the Institute, with Andrew Underhill as her second, and at his last Council meeting he appointed Isabelle as the new shadowhunter representative in the hopes that not only would her compassionate heart help, but she might also learn a little about what it meant to really be a shadowhunter – the good and the bad.
Then, when everything was said and done, and while his siblings were still in Alicante for Clary’s rune ceremony, Alec gathered up his things and walked out of the Institute for the very last time.
One of the many preparations Alec had made had been the hiring of one of the only warlocks he trusted implicitly. Someone who would be able to portal him away, and who could give Alec the mundane paperwork necessary to exist in the world. Also, someone who would be willing to keep Alec’s presence a secret from everyone unless absolutely necessary. The Clave was only willing to let Alec go so long as they maintained the right to recall him if an emergency came up.
Magnus, Alec knew, would keep that secret. He trusted the warlock enough for that.
Once, he might’ve trusted Magnus for more. Might’ve been flustered by the flirting but maybe taken him up on it. But life and the war had kept them both too busy, and whatever chance they might’ve had together was lost under war, politics, and business. However, they somehow managed to eke out something, at least. A hint of respect and what could’ve been the start of a friendship. Enough that Alec had trusted him with this.
Magnus hadn’t disappointed, either. Though he’d looked sad, he hadn’t tried to talk Alec out of what he was doing. He’d simply given Alec exactly what he asked for, at what was surely not even anywhere near his usual prices, and he’d set Alec up in the small coastal town of Prayer, Oregon. What the warlock likely found a rather amusing joke in his eyes.
The first glimpse Alec had gotten of the place, he’d thought it was a tiny little hole-in-the-wall. Nothing at all like the streets of New York. Here, almost everyone knew everyone else. They had tourists that came through, Magnus had explained, but not as bad as some other coastal towns. It was small, secluded, and absolutely perfect. Though the town had a few Downworlders, there was no Institute, no demons came here except randomly, and the nearby water made tracking Alec almost impossible. This place was exactly the safe haven he needed.
Coming here had been the best decision Alec had ever made. It’d taken him a long time to realize that. Months of hiding out in his new home, trying to break free from the grips of a depression that sometimes stole his breath away. He’d had panic attacks a few times, not just at home but in public. His senses were on the fritz, and his emotions felt like they were held on a hair-trigger.
If it hadn’t been for Milka, well, Alec wasn’t sure he would’ve ever pulled himself up out of that hole.
After a rather disastrous first meeting, one that Alec still cringed to think about, he was surprised that Milka hadn’t run screaming for the hills. Instead, she’d gone entirely in the opposite direction. The sixty-two-year-old was a petite little woman who barely reached over five foot and looked like a strong wind would blow her over. She was also one of the sassiest, smartest, funniest women that Alec had ever met. Her humor was bright, her wit and temper razor sharp, and she had no issue calling him on his shit in one moment and then cradling him in a hug the next.
Her wife, Lotte, was almost a foot taller than her, a couple years younger, and was just as sassy. She ran the local auto shop with an iron fist, was well loved in the community, and she also happened to be a werewolf.
The two women took Alec under their wing. They treated him like he was their grandson and took care of him whether he liked it or not. Milka came to his house and brought him food. She forced him out, made him interact with them, even gave him his first job.
Now, two years later, Alec had come a long way from the scared, broken boy that he’d once been, and he knew he owed a lot of it to Milka and Lotte. They’d given him everything.
Sighing, Alec sank back in his favorite chair, feet up on the porch railing and eyes lost out amongst the clouds. Rain was just starting to fall. His trip down memory lane had taken him a lot deeper than he’d expected. The sun was almost gone, and what little was left was mostly blocked by the storm.
Nails clacking on the ground finally drew Alec’s attention fully up out of the past. He felt a furred head press against his hand a second later. A smile curved his lips as he looked down at the dog that had come to sit by his chair.
Nana was a massive dog that Alec was convinced was more than just natural. There was an intelligence behind her eyes that gave her away as something other. She understood him in ways that no normal dog should be able to. She also seemed to eat less, and required no training whatsoever. Nor could Alec seem to place what breed she was exactly.
He, Milka, and Lotte all like to try and use the dog books at the store to try and guess what kind of breed she was. So far, they’d found nothing. Not in the normal books, and not in some of the more fantasy style books. Nana didn’t fit any completely. She was almost the size of a Great Dane, with a look of something close to a what Milka called a coonhound. She was pitch black, with short fur that only sometimes needed brushing – though she never shed anywhere that he could see – and the brightest, greenest eyes Alec had ever seen.
For the most part, Alec just accepted that Nana was his. Or, more accurately, he was hers. From the very first moment she’d wandered up to him on the back porch and laid down at his feet, he’d become her person, and no one could convince her otherwise.
Not that he minded. It was nice to have someone else in the house he could talk to. And it was nice to have someone there when things in his head got a little dark. Nana always seemed to know when he needed her and just how to help.
Smiling at her, Alec turned his hand enough to scratch behind her ears, a spot she particularly loved having pet. “Might not be a walk tonight, mon loulou. Those clouds look like they’re gonna start dumping on us any time now.”
A little snuffle and what he was pretty sure was an eyeroll was his answer. She looked at him like he was stupid for suggesting it, or for being bothered by it. Nana rarely ever cared about going out in the rain. The two of them had gone running in the rain plenty of times in the year and a half she’d been with him. Rain or shine, they always went running first thing in the morning, taking a lap down the beach and then back, and often in the evenings as well just to unwind from the day.
Tonight, however, she didn’t seem to want to nudge him out for an extra run. In fact, she pushed forward, away from his hand, and came up to his lap. Alec let out a low huff of laughter when she lifted her front half into the chair with him, nudging at his hip in a clear demand to move.
There was a reason this chair was Alec’s favorite. Nana was massive, and she liked to sit with him. Though she never sat on him. Not since the first time she’d tried it and almost sent him into a panic attack. He didn’t handle being pinned down well.
Alec shifted his weight around a little until there was enough space for Nana to climb up there with him. She sat down with her butt pressed against his and then let out a low woof. Her body slumped sideways into Alec’s side. It was either wrap an arm around her or risk his arm going numb as she laid against it.
The warmth of her body was a nice, pleasant weight. It kept Alec grounded and allowed him to relax in his chair, watching the storm and sipping his coffee, thoughts of the past pushed back to the small box in his mind where he hid them.