Restless Heart Syndrome

Chapter 4 Stop When THe Red Lights Flash

"When?"

"As soon as possible. I don't know how long this has been going on for, just... help him. The only reason he can't feel the ripping right now is because the Brother gave him something."

"Why don't I try to remove it? Magic can do things that shadowhunters can't." It's worth a shot. If he does this job, it's unlikely that it'll be a short little thing. It could last months, however long until they figure out what to do, and tissue regeneration isn't easy business, not at a constant rate anyway.

It could be dangerous.

The Silent Brother interjects, forcing words into his skull. He hates that. Alec isn't too fond of it, either... But now's not the time for reminiscent thoughts.

Magnus nods. "I'll be careful. If you'll just leave the room, I'll try and work my magic?"

Their answer comes in their exit, and Magnus sighs, pulling the sheet completely off Alec, revealing scruffy dark jeans and bare feet, devoid even of the mismatched gray socks that he usually has. He puts his hand on Alec's chest, sending a trickle of magic through his nervous system, through his bloodstream, trying to figure out what needs fixing and what doesn't belong.

It doesn't take him long to find the invasive organ. It's small, just bigger than the button on his jeans, and nestled down between some very important parts of the digestive system. It's under the large intestine, surrounded by a mangled and dying small intestine. Nearly all the organs along the digestive system are losing cells, giving them to the invader, and it seems to be rotting the organs as it breaks them down to reform itself. That's got to have hurt, and to think, if he'd been called much later Alec might be dead.

Sighing, Magnus focuses some of his magic on repairing the damages, then uses the extension of himself that makes him a warlock to prod around the stubborn organ, tumor, whatever it is, seeing if it'll move. But it seems it's rooted itself quite thoroughly in the small intestine, with what feels like webs tracing to organs it's draining life from. It's like a vampire organ, or something. It's certainly not natural, and it's not something Magnus has ever seen before. Which is quite impressive, if you hide away how annoying and potentially dangerous is could turn out to be. Maybe it'll be simple; just because Magnus didn't know about it before now doesn't mean it has to be insanely difficult. Every plague started out as a cold, easy to cure, but finally turning deadly... Or something. Well. Every plague didn't start out as a cold, not that he cares or anything.

He sends a shock of magic directly to the leech, a spark of blue moving through Alec before it's absorbed by the parasite. Curious, he sends another bolt, and it disappears into the tumor like it's a black hole. Sending magic directly to it is useless for everything, it seems. He'll have to see if he can snip away the chords suspending the unnamed thing to take it out.

Magnus places his hand over Alec's lower-abdomen, his head in a similar spot as his eyebrows knit together in concentration. Slowly, carefully, he send destructive magic into his ex-boyfriend, attempting to cut away the strings that are sucking life from the shadowhunter. A barrier of resistance reaches Magnus, a shield against his magic, something he can't destroy in such a delicate space as Alec's body. It's not going anywhere, which means Magnus isn't, either.

Ah, fuck.

"What do you mean, he has to be with you?" Maryse demands, her expression making clear her thoughts on the matter.

Magnus sighs, exasperated. "Spells on the mind and body are completely different. It's not like with Clary, he can't just come back every two years to make sure his tissue-regenerating abilities don't fade. If you keep him away from me, away from a constant source of magic, the spell won't work. You can use a supply I give every now and then for the mind and perceptions, but this is physical, this is... real, and it's can't be separated from the source of the magic that's keeping him alive, which is me, for long or it'll go away. Trust me, I don't care for this situation at all, but if I'm getting paid... This is my job, after all."