Piano Days and Other Malec One-Shots

Epilogue 1: I'm Not the Only One

He leaned forward on his hands, inspecting his darkened eyes in the mirror. He silently thanked his past self for buying concealer the day before. The Clave was demanding his presence in Alicante for the next three days and he looked like a resident of hell.

And lately, his apartment had been feeling like it. 

She was constantly cold, so the heat was always on, despite it being the hottest Brooklyn summer on record. 

Magnus leaned towards the mirror. Was he breaking a sweat?

He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, and it came away damp. 

Life was on a low. He hated saying that things were bad because that sounded too defeatist. And that was one thing Magnus Bane was not.

"Magnus?" She called to him like she knew she was a burden to him. And he hated that she knew that but it was the truth. She was a burden on his heart. He was tired of watching her suffer day in and day out, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop time. 

He was powerless against time.

He rubbed his forehead. "One moment," he called back, tearing his eyes away from the mirror.

He stepped into her room which felt more like a furnace than anything. He'd drawn back the curtains today because for the first time, the skyline wasn't looking gloomy with winter fog and clouds.

Etta was propped up in bed, a book stretched across her lap. 

"Dickinson," Magnus observed as he stepped in. "You don't like poetry."

"I rather like her," Etta said with a raspy sigh. Her fingers, just skin clinging to bones now, traced the raised embossing on the cover. 

"She's rather depressing if I recall correctly." Magnus sat on the edge of the bed, watching her with shining eyes. Her fingers came to rest, splayed out against the book. The gold band around her fourth finger caught the sunlight and bounced against the wall. 

"What time does Catarina arrive?" Etta asked. 

"Noon," Magnus said. "If it weren't for the dinner tonight--"

"You have to do your job," Etta said. "That takes priority over me."

"Nothing takes priority over you--"

"Except the Clave," Etta said. Her tongue still tasted the words like they were foreign. She wasn't born into Magnus' world; she moved into it. 

"Apparently," Magnus said. "Did you need something?"

He knew sometimes she just needed company but he couldn't give it to her anymore. 

Magnus lifted his eyes. She was frowning but she shook her head.

"I have to go finish packing," he said, patting her hand and rising. 

He couldn't breathe until he was out of that room-- out of the smell of death.

.........

Pain shot through his leg and his eyes flew open in shock.

"Did you just kick me?" Magnus sputtered to the silver-haired warlock beside him.

"The Consul just started speaking," Malcolm Fade said at a completely normal volume.

The Gard was filled with Shadowhunters and suddenly they were all looking at the two warlock delegates. 

"Is there something the warlocks would like to say before we begin?" the Inquisitor stepped in, her voice echoing throughout the marble chambers. Magnus stood unsteadily, keeping his weight off his bruising right leg.