Piano Days and Other Malec One-Shots

Dolor

dolor (n.)- sorrow, grief. From the Latin word dol (ere) meaning "to feel pain."

The darkness of the room and the heaviness of the air threatened to swallow him whole.

He'd lived in it for the last two days, not bothering to eat, only getting up a couple times to use the bathroom.

He knew what he was doing to himself: he wanted to live in the darkness that Raphael had lived in, never seeing true daylight. He wanted it to burn the next time he felt the sun on his skin, because a boy had given up his life for him.

Raphael had owed him nothing. Magnus had never held him to his word, his promise. It wasn't necessary. His companionship through Magnus' darkest, loneliest years had been enough. Why hadn't he seen that?

Why had he given up the sword? Why had he taken the demon boy at his word? Why had he been so stupid?

Within the first two hours of returning home from Alicante, he'd used up all the tears his body could produce. Today, the dehydration had reached its' worst and Magnus had found himself of the toilet, dry-heaving.

He was curled back in bed now, the feather down comforter enclosing him in a white, lumpy casing. No pillow supported his head and he stared out the window where Brooklyn was mourning Raphael with it's own tears and grey facade.

The sky was darker than the bags under Magnus' eyes, yet it illuminated the room slightly from where the gap between the curtains was.

Someone was driving a dagger into his stomach, twisting it again and again as Edom played over and over in his mind like a recording on a loop. But instead of a cat video or a Coca-Cola ad, it was Sebastian vs. Raphael's final seconds before the fatal KO.

Ragnor's death was just starting to heal. Then Raphael-- his better half, his side-kick, his wingman, his twin in all respects but appearance and genes-- had to go.

The silence had become deafening. He had memorized the rhythm of the raindrops against the glass, the neighbor above him's pacing habits, and how often an ambulance would go racing by or a cab would slam on the horn.

He wanted more noise to drown out his thoughts. But noise meant life. And there was no life in the apartment until early in the morning.

Magnus had heard the footsteps and the calls of his name but a numbed sense of shame stopped him from calling out.

At this point, he wasn't even sure his voice still worked.

There was a knock at the bedroom door. Magnus pulled the comforter tighter around him, burying his face in it.

It creaked open.

"Magnus?" Alexander breathed in tightly. "Are you awake?"

"I--" He'd forgotten the sound of Alec's voice, the way he controlled his breaths, the lightness of his footsteps. "Yes." He'd forgotten the sound of his own voice, how to breathe, and how to maintain the air of light flippancy he'd worked so hard to keep himself surrounded with.

"Are you-- Are you okay?"

Thunder cracked outside, echoed by a distant siren wail.

He couldn't find the words. He was supposed to be okay. He was supposed to be enjoying the life Raphael sacrificed so he could have. At the same time, he wanted to have the sword through his stomach right now.

"Hey," Alec whispered. Magnus pulled his face out of the covers, finding himself face-to-face with Alexander Lightwood. He hadn't felt the bed dip or heard Alec cross to his side of the bed. "Talk to me please."

"Raphael."

"Mm," Alec nodded. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"You're kind to say that," Magnus croaked out.

"I don't know what else to tell you. I can relate to the pain you're going through but I don't understand 100%. Whatever you and he had, Magnus, it was something special."

Magnus nodded. Alec had so carefully crept around "I understand." That phrase always set Magnus off. You could never understand. Never.

"Why are you here?" Magnus asked.

"I couldn't sleep. I missed you. I hadn't seen you. I could give you a long list of reasons, but mostly I wanted to see you."

"I'm not in a state to be seen," Magnus sighed.

"I can't see you because it's so dark," Alec said. "I can go if you want--"

"Please don't."

"What do I need to do?"

"Just hold me, please."

"Anything."

Magnus unfolded his arms, allowing Alec under the blankets. Alec wrapped his arms around Magnus' tiny, starved body. Magnus matched his position, the blankets balled into his fists so Alec was inside the blankets as well.

"You're going to be okay," Alec murmured, pressing a kiss to Magnus' forehead. It sent a wave of exhaustion and drowsiness through Magnus. "Go to sleep, dear."

Magnus closed his eyes, but his mind whirled about all the different points where Alec and Magnus were touching, where skin-met-skin skin-met-clothes clothes-met-clothes. Focusing on that made everything hurt less.

"I miss a lot of people," Alec whispered into the quiet of the blanket fort. It was just the sounds of their breathing. "But I missed you most of all."

Magnus pulled Alec closer to him, putting his face against Alec's black t-shirt. It smelled slightly of sweat but mostly of the country-sweet smell of Idris.

Alec had been gone far too long.

So this reached 5k so here's a little drabble. Thank you for the reads and the views! You know you're amazing so I'll stop now... - A