Alec held Corey as if—dare he think—afraid to let go.
The Shadowhunters and the Warlock remained still in the room where nearly all had watched Clarissa and Corey's memories slip from their fingers. Corey remained seated at Alec's lap, pulled into his chest, and though Corey couldn't recall how he'd found himself in this position he didn't dare to ask.
"Why would you do that?" Alec spoke—the first words to be spoken since Corey awakened. Corey pulled away minimally so he'd catch Alec's gaze, his words had been slow and quiet as if afraid is to ask.
"Do what?"
"Risk your life... For me," Alec amended. "You could have died, Corey."
"I— I don't know."
. . .
"I saw him, I heard him. 'Your Mother for the Cup,' that's what he said!"
Alec, who'd hadn't yet fallen asleep, supported a near exhausted Corey, who risked falling at any moment. After what had happened in the Warlocks home, Alec had yet to leave Corey's side—fearful something may happen to him again—he'd spent majority of the night watching over Corey as he slept, and though Corey was leaning toward confronting Alec's actions, was far war-weary to fight the Archer.
"Who said that?" inquired Alec, his arm draping itself absently around Corey as the smaller lad begun to lean into him.
"Valentine." At this, Corey felt himself waking but made no effort to stray from Alec's hold. "He's with my Mother," Clary continued, frantic.
"And he can speak to you through that necklace?" inquired Alec, his stance straightening. "Here, in the Institute?"
"It was like when I saw Dot."
"It's a Portal Shard," Corey realized and when the three had all looked to him, expectant, he meaninglessly shrugged and answered: "I saw a book." Alec, twisting his head negatively, smiled fondly. "That's why your Mother made sure you had it."
"Our Mother."
Alec leaned forward, asking, "Where is she?"
"I–All I know is that our Mother's alive." her lips stretched into a toothy grin. "Unconscious, but alive."
"Where are they?"
"I don't know."
"But you saw them"—the frustration was written in Alec's creasing brows—"were there any identifying characteristics? Equipment, weapons, photographs?"
"I don't remember," Clary disclosed, her smile dimming. "It was awful."
"Alec, lighten up—"
"I'm trying to get something we can use out of this," Alec justified. "Clary, what did you see exactly?"
"Valentine with my Mother. That's what I saw."
Alec scoffed at the woman. "Emotions are nothing but a distraction. You are ruled by them. We're taught to control them."
"And how is that working for you?"
. . .
When Alec reentered Corey's bedroom, he hadn't expected to find the gangly male sprawled across the mattress, his eyes closed. When Alec had asked what he'd been doing, the smaller male answered timidly: "Thinking."
The eldest Lightwood sibling entered the bedroom without invitation and laid himself beside Corey, his hands folded neatly on his chest. "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked—a childhood saying Corey hadn't expected. He was silent for another moment.
"... Dollar."
Alec looked to Corey like he'd been joking, but when the teenager remained unmoving, Alec placed a crumpled dollar in his hand—ignoring the minimalist smile that creased in Corey's lips. "Jocelyn. Luke. Simon." When he'd heard the name of the child-like-mundane, Alec stiffened. "L- Luke? Who is that?"
"... I—" Corey began to gnaw at his lower lip, his eyes peeled open as reality embraced him once more. "No one."
. . .
"Looks like we're stuck with each other." Clarissa, who'd waited reluctantly for the arrival of both Corey and Alec, sighed. "I'm sorry for how your Mother treats you if it means anything—"
"It doesn't. Mothers are like that."
"Mine isn't." Alec, surrendering a bow staff to Corey, eyed Clarissa narrowly, but commented nothing to her words. "Go ahead and knock me on my ass, you'll feel better."
"Don't make him say you're right about something," murmured Corey as he trailed to the other end of the room, seating himself on the ground. Alec laughed softly at Corey's words as he gestured toward Clary's feet.
"Plant your feet wide."
Corey watched as the two fought one another, one blow after the next—though, Alec was easing his strength on the girl, he could tell. It wasn't until Clary had fallen did Alec acknowledge Corey, smiling crookedly. "Your turn." Corey, looking from his right to left, faced Alec—the corners of his lip tugging downward as he pointed quizzically to himself, silently asking: Me?
Alec nods his head in confirmation, motioning Corey over with a single finger. "But, uh, I– I normally play bench..."
"That was in the mundane world," says Alec. As Corey stood, he felt a debate tipping his tongue but remained silent as he lifted the bow staff. Mocking both Clary and Alec's precious stance, he raised his bow staff, but before either could make a blow Alec's phone had begun to ring. With a bitter curse, Alec unearthed his lively phone and left.
Corey looked awkwardly toward Clarissa—neither had truly spoken since the night they heard of Dots death, at least, not alone.
Clary swayed from where she stood but didn't speak, nor make any real effort to approach Corey. It wasn't until Corey had turned away from her, did she speak. Only making it three, small, strides, she said: "I didn't mean what I said. Not everything, at least."
"So, what part did you mean?" Corey inquired, his voice as quiet as a single raindrop caught in New York traffic.
"You're changing, Corey. Ever since..." her voice trails as she eyed Alec warily across the room—Corey didn't have to follow her sight to know whom she spoke of. "At a time like this," she continued, "we—"
"Corey!" Looking up, Corey found Alec from the end of the room, waving him over just like he'd done moments before. Without so much as a spared glance toward Clarissa, he retreated toward Alec with raised brows. "Magnus," Alec explained vaguely–extending his phone to Corey.
Attentive, Corey took the phone with a single nod, raising it to his ear. There were a few seconds of silence before Magnus spoke. "Corey?"
Corey grunted softly, murmuring a silent, "Yes."
"Oh, good!" Magnus responded chipperly. "I was inviting your dearest Alexander out for a drink. You wouldn't mind, would you?"
A silence grew.
"Shall I take that silence as a no?" inquired Magnus.
"I—"
Magnus sucked in a sharp breath, sounding as though he held in a laughter. "I only ask because when I'd brought up the event to Alexander, he declined, mentioning something of your name..."
Corey curtly looked to Alec, whom seemed to have no acknowledgment of what they spoke of as he'd begun to wander away. "Perhaps we should all go drinking!" suggests Magnus, gleefully. Corey surrendered the phone back to Alec, who took it quizzically. "Are you and Alexander available now?"
"I—"
"Clary is gone." Alec, searching the room in hysteria, called again, "Clary's gone! That— that bitch!"
. . .
Clary could only stare at the school she yearned to be. Could only stare at the future she should have had. She could only wonder the 'what if's?'.
"Why would you run out?" barked Alec from the other line, his breathing heavy. "And what's the point of the invisibility rune if your phone isn't on silent?"
Ignoring Alec's criticism, she asked: "How's Corey?"
The phone went silent for longer then what could be considered a moment. "I can't tell. He hasn't said a word since I told him you were gone. He seems... mad." As Alec spoke, Clary felt a force against her back, causing her to stumble forward. When she turned she saw Corey – and true to Alec's words – he was livid.
When Clary faced Corey, questionable, his hands begin to frail with frantic gestures, as though mutely screaming: What the hell?
It took moments for Alec to join their side, and it took seconds for Alec to ease Corey's anger—all by the touch of a hand. Corey's limbs fell to his side and though he didn't lean into Alec's hold on his waist, he hadn't pulled away either. "We have to go back to the Institute." stated the Lightwood. "Mundanes. Look at them," he observed, already turning halfway as he spoke. "Running around like ants."
Though Alec had begun to walk with Corey, pulled to his side, he and the Shadowhunter only made it three steps before Clarissa spoke. "Why do you always look so miserable?" Both Alec and Corey turned, pointing toward themselves, silently asking: Me? But neither question was answered as Clary continued to speak. "It must be hard, being in love with two different guys, but—"
"I'm not."
"It must be hard loving both and knowing that even if you do pick one, neither will love you back." she continued, even as Corey stepped forward, gently pushing the gender back in a desperate attempt for her to stop. "No one needed to see that memory to realize it, Alec. Everyone knew."
"Clary, stop," Corey spoke, but Clarissa continued to push against Corey, ignoring his words. Alec, reaching forward, pulled Corey back into him. Corey exasperated a sigh, straying from Alec's hold. Against his better judgment, Corey left the two, knowing Alec wouldn't want him to hear the words Clarissa would speak. As he wandered—not straying far from the others—he'd begun to wonder whom the other man was that Alec loved.
Had it been Magnus?
He hadn't known why, but the idea made his stomach knot. Is that why Magnus wanted to drink with 'Alexander'? Was that why he called Alec, 'Alexander'? His fist had begun to clench at the idea, and before he could comprehend what he was doing, his fist struck the nearest building and though he'd expect the feeling of brick, collided into his fist, to hurt, he oddly felt no pain. He felt relief.
"Corey!" Alec called from where he'd witnessed Corey's outburst. "What did you— why?' Alec murmured to himself more than anyone as he approached the smaller male, bashfulled. "What were you thinking?" he inquired, taking the swelling hand in his own. "Did you want to break your hand?"
Corey could only stare.
. . .
The Iratze burnt into his skin hadn't burnt, it felt as though he'd drawn the run a dozen times. But, what he felt, what hurt, were the fingers intertwined on his own, belonging to a man who will never see Corey, the way he saw him—see him in a way Corey couldn't yet grasp himself. Perhaps it was this knowledge that made it so easy for Corey to let go of his hand.
It only took less than moments for Alec to realize the lack of weight in his hand, but when he turned to face the other Shadowhunter he was no longer at his side, but beside Simon, who embraced Corey as though never wanting to let go. "I'm sorry for leaving you," Simon confessed, pulling away from their embrace as he reached for Clarissa next. "You shouldn't have to do this alone. That's not who we are."