Chapter Text
“Simon.”
And Simon shivers because Alec Lightwood, Head of the New York Institute and his girlfriend's brother doesn’t need to raise his voice to be terrifying.
And Simon is terrified.
Officially.
But also not overwhelmingly so.
Because he’s also finally seventy percent sure Alec won’t kill him, which is much better than the fifteen percent Simon thought his chances were until recently.
Though in a crisis, he’s also the one Simon wants to be around. It's much easier to step behind Alec than it is Izzy and he's a lot more comforting too because Alec isn't one to be overconfident and he was very confident he could survive living in Edom.
So thinking back, even in the beginning Simon’s chances were always better when he was with Alec, even if they both complained about it.
“Okay, yeah right. I’m Simon.” He hears himself say and he reminds himself to take a breath even though he doesn’t need to. He's talked to Alec now. Multiple times even.
He'll be fine.
Plus a lack of heartbeat and oxygen only mean that even Simon’s own body won’t save him from panic anymore.
“Yes? I know you’re Simon.”
And Alec says it like it's an obvious conclusion but Simon is just really happy to hear him say it, especially without a threat.
Because Alec isn’t the kind of person who is casual with most people and Simon is almost nothing to him.
Sometimes Simon worries he’s just another body to Alec — one in the congo-line-of-lovers that Izzy has had — but then Izzy reminds him he’s the only boyfriend Alec’s bothered to remember the name of.
And Simon is also one half of Clary’s package deal and boy, that sure didn't do him any favors when they first met.
He takes pride in it, even if he probably shouldn't but it's that or cry remember the first months of his new life.
“Simon—“ Alec says and he’s sighing, deep and long and Simon wonders if his inattention and eagerness has once again doomed his — now second — attempt at living.
Well living while he's also dead but Simon might actually stay dead this time if he lets his thoughts keep going, especially if Alec can secretly read minds like he sometimes suspects.
“The greenhouse?” Alec is asking him and Simon wonders why until he remembers how much he hates Alec’s office and sitting in any closed room in the Institute besides Izzy's or Clary's.
The greenhouse is the only other place Alec takes official meetings.
And something shivers down Simon’s spine.
Because Alec doesn’t even like him but he’s noticed Simon’s dislike.
This isn't even an Alec that’s trying to be thoughtful, he's just naturally this calculating.
So just how much does Alec notice? Simon wonders and the little part of his brain that he’s learned can save his life tingles.
Where does it end?
“For the love of, Simon sit the fuck down and breathe every fifth count.”
Simon finds himself on the hard marble of the Institute’s unfamiliar greenhouse floor. His head between his knees and a too heavy hand roughly smacking his back in sets of five.
There is brightness on his face when he finally opens his eyes.
“This is sunlight!” He accuses angrily, because he finally trusted Alec a full seventy percent and now this.
Betrayal!
“Simon you’re a daylighter. You were blasted by the soul sword and survived. You’re fine.”
And Alec doesn’t sound sympathetic and Simon winces because well—
Okay yeah. That’s fair.
Plus Alec has seen Simon drunkenly dance naked in the sun and that is a memory neither of them talk about.
It actually calms Simon down, because if Alec refrained from killing him when he plastered his naked body to Alec’s and yelled ‘teach me how to fight future brother-in-law!” then he should be safe nw. After all, Alec had in fact, spared his life.
First by not killing him.
And secondly, by not telling Magnus that Simon’s no-good-very-bad-brain decided it was perfectly reasonable to cop a feel of Alec’s ass with vampiric strength.
It’s not a bad ass.
A little flat but very muscular with thighs that could break a neck and Simon tries very hard not to work himself back into a panic.
He does not need Alec Lightwood bringing him down from a panic attack while he thinks about how he nakedly groped Magnus’ Bane husband’s ass hard enough that Alec had sighed and in the medical bay he’d dragged a still drunk and naked Simon to, had to activate an iratze.
“Magnus is going to know that these marks aren’t his.” Alec had said casually, “and he’s not going to like it. I really didn’t like it. You certainly didn’t like it either, if you know what’s good for you. So therefore, this never happened.”
And Simon is never ever going to tell even Clary that he did like it.
He’d liked it very much and he’d suddenly understood Magnus’ instant obsession.
Which had turned into a new crisis.
Because Simon’s taste is apparently Lightwood’s.
Which is not helpful for his continued life expectancy.
Because it will either be Izzy for eyeing up her married brother, Magnus for eyeing up his husband, or Alec for the offense of Simon’s sheer audacity.
“Simon, do I need to get someone else to calm you down?”
“No!” Simon manages to get out because Alec Lightwood-Bane can never find out that he snapped out of the panic attack three minutes ago and almost sent himself into another panic attack because of said man’s ass. “I’m good. I’m good.”
Alec doesn’t look impressed but Simon knows he must not look very impressive.
He doesn’t take it personally.
Alec isn’t impressed by anyone besides Magnus, unless he’s impressed by someone’s stupidity.
And that never turns out well. Simon's both seen and been a part of the aftermath.
“Okay, so what can I do you for? I mean for you. What can I do for you?”
Alec is eyeing him like Simon is Magnus’ awful snake Baby.
Which is rude.
Because Simon has seen Alec with that nasty little worm and Alec is much nicer to Baby than he is to anyone besides Magnus and Madzie. Simon's certainly never been smiled at like that or cooed over or petted, not that he wants to be but he's practically Alec's brother-in-law at this point by Izzy's say-so and he's certainly never gotten so much as a smile.
“Okay so listen carefully. There is a lot of information I’m about to give to you. You know that Magnus has several identities in the mundane world. Some of them are legal, respectable identities and some of them are instead are identities that hold a great deal of power in mundane crime groups.”
“Magnus is a mob boss!” Simon gasps out in giddy delight and then Alec is ruining his joy like the grumpy DILF he is.
The grumpy DILF he is not.
Because Simon doesn’t even know what a DILF is and he’s never been so glad that Alec can’t read his mind.
“No Simon. He’s not actually running a mob or gang or whatever else you’re thinking. He’s simply a powerful individual and is known for his information and skills and that he has a lot of money and little respect for laws. Nobody wants to be on his bad side. Everyone wants to be on his good side, just like in the shadowworld. So consider that he has the authority of someone powerful enough that even the mundanes behave in Brooklyn. I personally don’t really care how Magnus got his status or how he maintains it.”
And Simon has so many questions but Alec has his—
if-you-interrupt-me-I’m-shoving-my-hand-through-your-chest-and-exiting-with-your-heart
— look on his face.
And Simon has seen that security footage before.
- and he never wants to see it again -
So he stays silent.
“It’s a persona that most High Warlocks create. They need certain identities for the mundane underbelly of their territories. It helps them make sure the mundanes fear and respect them enough that they can come and go freely. They need to be trusted to keep an eye on any slip-ups. And no, they’re not trying arrest any of them or make them stop doing mundane crime. No shadowworlder involves themselves so deeply and if I have any comments, keep them to yourself.
“Magnus and I honestly don’t care. We protect mundanes from the shadowworld, not from themselves. If the mundanes want to kill and hurt themselves and each other, that’s their problem. So long as they only do it in mundane ways and not with substances that have ties to the shadowworld. We don’t need the clave coming down here, bristling about the accords anytime soon, or anytime at all.”
And Simon swallows because he understands how serious this is, intimately.
Aldertree was sent by the clave.
He remembers Aldertree.
Izzy remembers Aldertree.
A lot of people remember Aldertree.
So he keeps focused, listening to the hummingbird-wing-beat of Alec’s pulse under his words.
“Magnus has done this for centuries. He knows what he’s doing. But we’d both prefer if I could go with him in the future.”
And Simon is practically vibrating because he’s nearly positive that he’s about to get a padawan.
Which, even in such a serious situation, is amazing!
“Which means I need to know more about modern mundane culture than I do.” Alec is grimacing and Simon knows it’s a testament to just how much Alec loves Magnus that he’s doing this.
“Magnus gets by because he has centuries of knowledge but I’ll need a crash course. And no Simon, I cannot read your mind.” Alec Lightwood’s eye roll continues to be a thing of beauty and Simon feels his undead soul un-die a little more before he feels relief.
Because Alec definitely can’t read minds.
Or Simon wouldn’t continue existing.
“Look, Magnus and I went over a list of all the questions you might possibly ask. He gave me the answers so I didn’t have to waste time. We both agreed you’d be the best to ask, since you spend the most time around young adult mundanes. And you’re popular with your peers.”
Simon feels like he’s dreaming or maybe died again.
Except this is a much nicer if not possibly a more traumatizing experience than his first death so Simon concludes it has to be real.
His luck is always this bad.
“Magnus thought and I agreed that it would be just you and I. Since you tend to—“ and Alec trails off and Simon has a moment where he wishes he’d never drank Jace’s blood and could still walk into the sun and just cease to exist.
Because Alec is trying to be considerate.
Because he’s trying not to say that Simon can’t handle being in the same room with both of them after the Incident.
It’s mortifying.
“Right, so do I need to call Magnus so he can join us?” And Alec looks very serious, eyes dark and calm and without a flicker of anger or of true concern. Alec is a good leader not because he cares but because he makes himself act regardless of care.
It took a while for Simon to realize that sometimes the people who care the most are the ones who let you down the worst.
And Simon winces, because Alec does look incredibly tired compared to when Simon saw him… however long ago.
“No sorry. I’m good, just a surprise. But like a good surprise, it’s like I’m Q and—“ and Simon trails off with a sigh because there’s no point and he is shocked when Alec runs his big hands over his scruffy perfect Lightwood face.
Or maybe it’s his Trueblood genes.
Whatever.
“Yes, okay fine. Simon you can be Q. But if you call me 007 or whistle that obnoxious tune I will give you cause to regret it.”
“You know 007?” Simon actually gasps, because this might truly be some epic dream and he doesn’t even register the threat.
Well, his hindbrain does and it’s screaming, but Simon can’t listen to it over the shockhold Alec’s words have put him in.
“Simon, consider who my husband is. Just for a minute.”
And Simon does consider it.
He considers how a delighted and charmed Magnus would coax Alec into ‘research’ for his ‘undercover excursion into the mundane world’.
“Oh my god.” Simon barely breathes out, “Magnus made you marathon them.”
And Alec is gritting his teeth. Simon can hear the grind of his incisors and he swallows, hard.
“Right. Absolutely no mentions of triple digits or shockingly appropriate theme songs.”
And Simon’s death flashes—
hunger the dirt the gnawing-bite-thirst-trap-feed of hunger and Clary’s screams
— before his eyes when Alec gives an exasperated sigh.
The moment passes and Alec is giving him a begrudging yet judgmental look.
“It’s often that the criminal part of mundane life is where the shadow world slips over. Magical drugs slip into mundane ones, easy money, anything goes. Some of them feed off of messing with mundanes, others just don't care and like to make mischief, some of them actually want the money. And no one cares about any of those parts, except for when it sometimes leaves evidence. Unexplainable evidence that mundanes want explained. Right now Magnus is chasing a new rumor; and we’d like for me to be able to go with him.”
This is quite possibly the single coolest thing Simon has ever been involved in.
“So are you going in as his bodyguard? A new dealer of some super magic drug? Oh. My. God. Alec, are you going to be a rival boss or something coming in? Or a hitman? Are you going in as Magnus’ cleaner?”
And Alec is staring at Simon like he’s actually truly lost it.
Which Simon doesn’t get. They’re all obviously the best and most understandable choices.
“Simon, Magnus is my husband. Obviously I’m his mob wife.”
And Simon can’t breathe, but he feels the oxygen knocked out of his lungs.
Because Alexander Gideon Lightwood-Bane — a man who has prevailed heavily in both Simon’s nightmares and his recent and most horrifying wet dreams — wants to learn how to be a proper mob wife.
“Oy vey.” Simon manages to get out and then he looks up at Alec and blinks at his too-tall, too-powerful body.
And wonders how he’s supposed to guru Alec into anything that can pass as what middle-aged criminals will consider a wife.
Mob or otherwise.
Later they’re finally finishing up their first crash course and Alec looks worse than he did with his own arrow through his chest.
But he escorts Simon out, calling out encouragement and instructions absently to the shadowhunters he passes and Simon takes it in with a sudden wonderment.
Simon’s seen more changes of leadership in this Institute in his short time as a part of the shadowworld than is normally seen in a generation.
And he got a much more up-close and unwanted personal view of how badly it can go.
And Alec is… he’s surprisingly really great. Even if Simon only has shitty examples to compare him to and so when Simon is walking out into the sun and Alec is going through a portal that appears out of nowhere, he lets his guard down and mutters.
“He’s so totally M.”
And just before the portal warps out of existence, Simon’s hearing picks up a quiet, irritated—
“Simon.”
And he winces.
Alec’s senses are frightening and Simon is a vampire.