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Shadowhunters - So You Will Come to Know
Title: So You Will Come to Know
Fandom: Shadowhunters
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~4,900 words
Synopsis: Their job was to protect the mundanes from the demons and the Downworlders. But who was to protect them from the mundanes?
Author’s Note: Yes, the title is a reference to the song Twilight Zone by Golden Earring.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no profit from this.
Also available on AO3.
“There’s been a lot of activity reported over in the Hunts Point region this week,” Alec said as he pulled up the map of the corresponding area. Other Shadowhunters weaved to and fro, each with their own assignments, knowing they would be called in if needed but otherwise minding their own business for now.
“There’s always a lot of activity there, mostly of the ‘please run away quickly’ sort,” Clary grumbled under her breath.
Alec ignored her for the most part and continued to point out areas of interest, but Jace felt the need to chime in to clarify, “Are we talking mundane activity or Downworlders? The police can handle the mundane crime.”
Alec made a face that showed he agreed, but that there was more to the reports. “That’s what we have to figure out. The wolves are blaming the vamps and the vamps are blaming the wolves. Increased violence against both, but both deny starting anything.”
“So we go in there and what?” Jace prompted. Missions where they were to dig deep, not step on anyone’s toes, and then do precisely nothing with the intel they discovered were not his favorite.
“Hope our presence is reminder enough to back down,” Isabelle guessed. A look to her brother and he nodded in confirmation.
“If we’re lucky, maybe we can figure out what started all of this. If not, maybe we can stop it before it becomes more of an issue,” he expanded.
“Did Luke mention anything?” Izzy asked.
Clary shook her head but it was Alec who replied, “He’s had four of his return with minor wounds and tales of suspicious activity. They didn’t explicitly blame the vamps, but...”
“But they blamed the vamps,” Jace finished for him. He had seen this play out far too many times before. “I’m guessing the vampires deny any wrong doing, claim they went in to check out the complaint and now have fingers pointed at them?”
“Pretty much,” Alec agreed. “So now it’s our turn to poke around.”
It wasn’t the most glamorous mission, but he reluctantly admitted it was kind of nice having a break from the huge overlying threats of evil trying to destroy them all for once. He knew simple missions helped them better appreciate the normal mixed in with all of the usual abnormalities and not become quite as immune to either. Besides the vamps and the wolves, while they hadn’t been getting along like best friends or anything ridiculous like that lately, had maintained a truce of sorts. Anything threatening that truce had the potential to blow up in their faces in a major way.
So they gathered their weapons and activated their obfuscations and marched out into a fairly decent evening. The wind had the slightest of bite to it, but the heat from the day still lingered making it an almost pleasant walk save for the occasional smell of trash and exhaust. There was the blare of the random car alarm and the smash of dishes from within a house, but nothing screamed for their attention, nothing screamed of anything more than a usual mundane night in a less than opulent neighborhood.
Until something caught Jace’s attention.
Two men, dressed a shade nicer than one would expect given the time and place, clearly impatient and clearly hoping not to be seen. It was an easy enough task to hone in on their conversation, even if he didn’t sense any demon involvement yet. He didn’t even need to activate his rune; he got close enough to listen in perfectly fine on his own and they had no idea that they were not alone.
“He’s late,” the first one complained.
The second one waved him off. “He drives a school bus, maybe the kids had a field trip,” he reasoned.
“Yeah? Well we need that bus for transport. I don’t like our merchandise sitting out waiting to be found, I’m funny that way,” the first one sneered.
A glance showed several boxes sitting in the backs of several pickup trucks. The first row was obviously for show, cardboard things loaded with junk. Behind them, half draped with torn blankets and what might have been a roll top at one point, were far nicer containers of much sturdier quality.
The men were talking again, the second one pointing out, “This was your idea, man. I told you there’d be glitches. If this is the worst of it? The runner being like fifteen minutes late after everything we had to do to get to this point? We’re golden.”
As if on cue, a dirty yellow bus pulled up, mud spattered and reeking of diesel in a way that made his nose twitch. The door cranked open on the side and an older man in a worn plaid shirt and jeans apologized, “Sorry, the kids were late coming back from a farm trip. Whole bus smells like chicken shit and pigs.”
The first of the suits made a face, but gestured to the other man and said, “Get loading, we can still beat the deadline.”
A lackey emerged from each truck and began to unpack, shifting the decoy boxes to the side to get to the real goods. Alec and Izzy had snuck around to the far side of the trucks but Clary had stayed relatively close to him up until that point. Something caught her eye and she edged closer to the bus itself. He watched as she cocked her head to the side and then activated her hearing rune, honed in on something he had yet to notice.
Before he could activate his own, she slunk back and said, “There’s kids on the bus. Two of them. They must have fallen asleep on the ride back - Simon and I did that once and... anyway, they can’t be more than seven or eight. I saw one of the backpacks and heard the girl trying to wake the boy up.”
“We’ve got to get them out of there,” Jace agreed, knowing exactly where she was going with her findings.
She motioned to Izzy and pointed at her neck, letting her know to listen in. She whispered her findings and watched them be relayed and no one was surprised when Alec headed straight for the bus and Izzy headed straight for whatever contraband was about to be in transit. For his part, Jace let them get into position while he watched for everything to go pear shaped as he had a sinking feeling it would.
The lights that flickered a quick one-two beat across the street were a warning. The stampede of feet and the cock of mundane weaponry was another. “Get out of there,” he whispered, knowing his friends would see the oncoming threat as simply more reason to get the kids to safety.
Alec was already on the bus, and Clary was reaching for the rear door. The handle didn’t turn and so she etched a quick unlocking rune and forced the issue. By now the two sides of what he could tell were an entirely mundane argument had spat out their threats and brought out their guns, one shouting that the others were less than intelligent as they would set everything off, only using some creative profanity to do so.
A glance showed Izzy rifling through the contents of one of the boxes she had obtained, eyes wide, man collapsed at her feet. A second glance, this one towards a cracked open safety window lit solely by the streetlight, showed Alec trying to convince the kids to leave with him, which meant he had dropped his obfuscation and could be seen at any moment.
Jace decided that the mission had successfully gone to hell in a hand basket when the first shot was fired. He was already in motion, closing the distance towards where Clary and Alec had ducked and covered. The glass from a bus window exploded and the now open and swinging back door was being used as a potential shield from bullets, even as it served as a target, drawing attention to something that really should not be moving.
Clary pushed the door into position anyway, and helped Alec lower the kids to the pitted asphalt. Jace knocked down the man that would have shot at his parabatai, twisted, and then took out another, their trigger reflexes stunted when presented with a sword wielding opponent that they couldn’t actually see. Alec nodded his thanks and then ushered the kids towards what would hopefully be safety, bodily shielding them until they took off at a fast run into the shadows of houses and alleyways.
Jace paused for a moment then, not certain if they should further meddle in mundane affairs. That decision was ripped away from him when the second group continued to fire.
They clearly still did not have a read on Clary, but Alec was another matter all together as he had not yet reactivated his obfuscation. A bullet ripped into his shoulder and he stumbled, body shaking as if hit by another. Clary was closer by a hair and rushed towards his side, but never made it. A stray bullet hit one of the boxes and it exploded with earth shattering sound and light. Flames and sparks hit the dilapidated bus and soon enough the gas tank had joined in the revelry.
Jace was knocked to the ground, dazed, but was able to clamber to his feet again through sheer force of will. He forced his eyes to focus and did not like what he saw. Clary was crumpled in a heap, half covered in debris from the bus. Alec was only a few feet away from her, clutching at his chest, soot and scraps littered about him.
The mundanes were fleeing the scene, taking a handful of potshots along the way but obviously running while the running was good. Some of their own were dead or nearly so, and at least one was on fire.
He ignored all of that and rushed to Alec’s side, only to find a bloody and filthy Izzy already there. She activated his iratze rune while Jace searched for further injuries. He found several, to say the least. Alec would be uncomfortable, and would need a day or so to rest to fully heal, but he would heal eventually and that was all that mattered.
Clary still hadn’t moved though and so, while Izzy cradled her brother’s head in her lap, Jace crawled the short distance to check on the final member of their team. He rolled her over carefully and found what might have been a graze across her left arm but thankfully no other wounds from the mundanes’ ridiculous weapons. Blood flowed freely from her scalp near her hairline, and it worried him that a fair deal dripped from her ear as well.
“Clary?” he whispered, hoping to be heard over the roar of the continuing fire behind them. They needed to get out of there. The police would be there soon and all four of them could use a place to rest that wasn’t a debris-filled street.
He cupped her face in his hands and ran his thumbs over her eyebrows, careful of the tiny nick he found even there. Her face scrunched up in pain and she let out a low moan, but eventually she managed to pry her eyes open only to slam them shut again.
There were sirens now, as expected, but there was also a glow of purple added to the overwhelming orange and he knew Isabelle had called in a reinforcement of their own.
He turned to see Alec slumped between Magnus and Izzy, his parabatai’s feet useless to support himself as they lifted him up and shuffled towards the glow. “Can you get her on your own?” Magnus asked, which was a stupid question because of course he could.
Well, usually could with no problem but it was far harder when a dazed and confused Clary fought the simplest of actions and he resorted to bodily lifting her into a fireman’s carry to join the others through the portal back to the institute. People cleared the way pretty much immediately, and he knew rumors would abound by morning.
He hadn’t realized his own injuries until a medic shoved him down and activated his rune. It was only then he noticed the scratches and scabs and the clothing that was stained with blood that may or may not be his own. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “It was those two that were caught in the explosion.”
His reputation preceded him, as did Isabelle’s, which meant the medics left them mostly alone after that as well as knew not to try to kick them out while they dealt with the other two. They also knew not to cross Magnus while he fussed over his boyfriend, which was really for the best.
“His wounds are already healing,” one of the medics said encouragingly, and the warlock offered a half smile in thanks.
“How’s Clary?” he asked, but had already left the bed they had given him to check on her himself. A medic was dabbing at the blood from her temple and the young woman winced and swatted the hand away.
“Jace!” she exclaimed, too loud and too off key in worrying ways. She paused and reached towards her ears, only to have her hands held away from them by the well-meaning medic. She changed tactics and reached for the graze on her arm, and was swatted at again.
“We’ll get to those in a moment,” the woman promised her, tone low and soothing. Shadowhunters might face the worst demons with barely a blink of an eye, but trying to get them to be calm and rational after a fight while the adrenaline was still fresh in their systems was always an uphill battle.
Instead of reassuring her, it sent Clary even more into a panic. “I can’t... I can’t hear anything! Everything’s muffled and foggy and...” She trailed off when she tried to push herself up to her elbows. She didn’t tumble right off the edge of the bed solely due to the quick reflexes of the medic and Jace and the only reason why his shoes were not decorated with her earlier dinner was from Isabelle’s own quick reflexes at shoving a basin towards her in time.
“Her hearing rune was activated right before the explosion,” Izzy told the medic. “She and Alec were the closest, though I don’t know if he activated his or not. It’s how she found the children.”
“And it likely amplified the effects,” Magnus pointed out. He looked torn between helping his already mostly healed lover and someone he called friend that was still hurting.
Alec chose that moment to raise to full consciousness versus the fleeting version he had been playing around with before. He opened his eyes and groaned, took in where he was and who he was with and immediately demanded, “Are the kids safe?” His own voice was far more modulated and closer to his usual growl, either from experience or sheer force of will.
“They booked it right before everything else hit,” Isabelle assured him.
He seemed to understand her with no issue, so Jace ruled out him having the same side effects as the woman sheepishly wiping her mouth. Alec glanced her way, likely to check up on her. Failing that, he tried to push himself up into a sitting position despite the protests, and then flopped back down clutching his shoulder, a ground out exclamation of pain managing to escape.
“Alexander?” Magnus asked, clearly concerned.
“Bullets,” Clary announced from the bed next to him. She might not be able to hear, but her vision was still tracking enough to watch the debacle even if she squinted more than she should. Her volume was still way off and she once again tried to sit up only to lean heavily to one side and turn even paler than usual. Jace had the feeling she had gotten her bell rung far worse than he first suspected, even without the other issues. “They’re not like arrows or swords. If they’re still in him... He could have internal bleeding or they could still be moving around or... Wounds inside even if we don’t see anything outside.” It was a testament to her state of mind that she felt the need to explain the concept in a room full of healers and fighters, none of which took any offense as she was simply trying to look out for one of their own.
It was also one of the few things that would have made him leave her side in her current condition. Jace managed to confirm the medic had her and moved to the other bed in about a second. He helped Magnus gently rotate Alec to do a more thorough examination and found that, while the front of his parabatai’s shirt had three distinct holes that lined up with reddened and angry skin beneath the fabric, the back had precisely none. He dragged the dirty fabric up to find skin with nothing but mild bruising that was already beginning to fade. “The iratze is sealing the wounds, but it won’t remove the source,” he guessed.
Magnus had quite the rant about mundane weapons and the destructive nature there of at that, all the while bodily tearing the remains of the shirt off to more clearly show the healing wounds below. “They have to come out,” he finally announced after a quick scan with his magic. He then cupped Alec’s face in his hands and apologized, “I’m sorry, my angel, there is no other way. I may be able to force you into unconsciousness, but I will not be able to cope with pain management and removal at the same time if we are to ensure we get all of the pieces.”
“Just do it,” Alec ground out, ever the martyr. He flopped back gracelessly, but was unable to hide how much even that hurt.
“Oh for...” Jace griped. He knew they didn’t have time to grab the stash of brandy from the head office that he wasn’t supposed to know about to help deaden the sensation that way, not to mention the whole alcohol and probable ill effects aspects of it. He forced Alec’s hand into his own and said, “We’ve done this before. Give me what you can’t take.”
Which is how he got an up close and personal view of a blue mist settling about healing yet still blood- and soot-smeared skin. What happened next he really wished he could unsee. Alec’s body as a whole vibrated for a moment, a sensation he felt to his very core. A moment of stillness and silence, and then the bullets burst backwards from Alec’s chest and stomach, the wounds violent and red, bleeding freely as they undid all of the healing his body had already completed. Alec gripped his hand like a vice and, even though he did his best not let anything slip through their bond, Jace was a sneaky bastard when he wanted to be and took on more than offered anyway. His own chest burned in phantom pain, his own lungs seized in shock, and it took Isabelle’s reassuring touch and constant whispering to remind him to let it go and take another breath again.
Magnus, of course, was not quite done yet. There was the clink of metal as the pieces of whatever he had removed hit the ground, but it was distant and inconsequential in comparison to the pure rush of energy, of magic, that poured out from the warlock. Jace himself was beginning to get lightheaded from the ebb and pull, from the spikes of pain followed by spikes of euphoria that he could feel through his bond with Alec. He had no idea if there had been that much damage or if Magnus was being just that thorough, but he sure as hell was not going to try to stop him.
Eventually, through the haze, he heard Clary’s exclamation of, “Magnus!” He opened eyes that he didn’t remember closing and saw the warlock falter, entire body heaving as he struggled to remain upright. One medic was dumb enough to lay a hand on his shoulder, and skidded across the room for his effort. A second hand appeared, only this one snapped its fingers in front of Magnus’ face and threatened, “I am not above sedating you, even if you just saved my child’s life, Bane.”
The blue and the mist and the sparks and everything else faded away to reveal one very exhausted warlock slumped half over the edge of the bed. “I don’t believe that will be necessary, Maryse,” he slurred.
Jace didn’t remember too much after that. He had the vague recollection of being pried away from his parabatai, of a familiar exasperated voice that told him, “Jace, darling, you have to let go. Alec will be fine now.” There were hands that he knew well enough not to fight, and then there was cushion against his cheek and a fading light.
When he next opened his eyes, he didn’t know if it was minutes or hours later. The lights had been dimmed, but there was still enough ambient brightness to see Alec laid out in the bed next to him. There was no one to stop him, so he levered himself up onto his elbows, a wave of dizziness easily pushed to the side, and fully took in his surroundings.
He still wore everything he had left in that night in sans his boots, but Alec had been changed into the scrub-like pajamas that meant he would have far more than a single night in the infirmary. A second bed had been scooted closer, far from standard protocol, but possibly the easiest solution given that its occupant was a dozing Magnus, one hand draped over across Alec’s wrist as if seeking his pulse and proof of life even in sleep. One more bed over held Clary, who’s soft snores were timed to perfectly counter Alec’s.
“I think we set a record for how many of our team ended up in here at once,” Isabelle yawned from his side. She was stretched out in a chair, heels kicked to the side so that her bare feet could rest on the edge of his mattress.
“Why aren’t you in one of these? I saw how much blood you lost,” Jace accused without heat. It was a little worrisome to think of how poorly one of the top teams of Shadowhunters had dealt with what turned out to be a mundane problem all along. More worrisome was the thought that the team as a whole had been nearly taken down and would have been at the mercy of whatever else could had been thrown at them without Magnus’ help and love of portals.
“Tattletale,” she pouted. She showed her own iratze though, visible on her clean skin draped in clean clothing and, man, did he need a bath. “Anyway, I might have gotten knocked a bit, but I was further from the blast range and didn’t sap all of my strength trying to heal someone else, so there’s that.”
“Your selfish ways serve you once again?” he teased.
“Something like that,” she agreed with a poke of her foot to his thigh.
He eyed her carefully despite the dig, and found dark shadows under her eyes, a single strand of her usually perfectly coiffed hair twisted and knotted from where she tended to twirl it in a nervous gesture that fooled absolutely none of the people who knew her. She had stayed there for them, on watch, uncertain of when they would wake or what state they would be in when they did so, even when they were surrounded by dozens of other Shadowhunters in one of their strongholds.
He knew she would only glare if he brought any of that up, so instead he asked, “How are they doing?”
“Alec is healing, but I’m assuming you know that already. It will be a few days before he’s back in the field. Clary stopped barfing about an hour ago, which they are taking as a sign her concussion is going away. Her hearing is still shot though and they might send in a specialist if Magnus can’t fix it in the morning. Magnus used up like all of his magic on Alec and is not to go anywhere without an escort or bodyguard until it builds back up, whether he likes it or not per mother’s orders. And you desperately need a shower,” she readily recited, ending with a sniff. The twirl was back though, so he knew she was not nearly as nonchalant about it all as she seemed. Her eyes seemed to zero in on every place that he knew had held even the tiniest of scrapes, whether they were still visible or not.
“Maryse ordered that?” he asked, doubtingly.
“I did,” a voice from the doorway confirmed. “Just like I am ordering you to get some more rest, or at least be silent enough to allow the others to do so.”
His surrogate mother walked over and ran her fingers through his hair in a way that he tried really hard not to lean into. She didn’t seem to mind in the least that he was probably destroying her pristine manicure with the sheer amount of filth on him. “How long was I out?” he asked around a yawn. She knew exactly how to make him pass out again and he didn’t even have the energy to care.
“Just over three hours,” she replied, which explained why he still felt like shit. The last time he and Alec pulled the energy sharing schtick it took him about two days to feel like himself again. At least then they had let him stay in his own bed, so he could use that as precedent if needed.
He let his head loll to the side towards his parabatai and asked, “He really going to be okay? Those mundane weapons... I’ve seen men die from those wounds.”
“Those men did not have a very determined warlock trying to save them,” Maryse pointed out. Softer then, she added, “He will heal; all of you will, including that warlock. But to do that, everyone needs to rest. Seeing how you are determinedly avoiding that, did you want to come with me to get something to eat? We can discuss the Clave’s response and they can actually stop pretending to sleep and maybe even do it for real.”
He paused to listen and realized half of the snoring had stopped. Alec mumbled a rough thanks and Magnus offered a half-hearted thumbs up without even bothering to open his eyes, so Jace decided he should probably take her up on the offer.
He swung his feet over the side of the bed and went to stand, only to nearly crash to his knees on the hard concrete floor. He was stopped by the quick reflexes of the two women next to him. “Yeah, no, not happening any time soon,” Isabelle commented as she hauled him upright, or as close to it as he could currently manage. Without the edge of the bed bracing him, he was fairly certain he would overbalance in the opposite direction.
He didn’t know which was worse, that Maryse pretty much bodily lifted him back up onto the bed, or that she didn’t even need to activate her strength rune to do so. He was down for the count, and there was no hiding it from the woman who raised him. She even had the audacity to tuck a blanket around him.
“I’ll fetch some soup and we can see if you’re still conscious enough to eat it,” she said with another run of her fingers through his hair.
He tried not to be offended.
Izzy looked at her hopefully and she added, “Yes, I’ll get you some too. Angels know there’s no prying you out of here anytime soon.”
Jace listened to the click of her heels as she left and turned his head to where he knew Isabelle had resumed her watch position again, the slight dip to his mattress giving her away. “You know she’s probably going to drug it, right?” he verified.
“If it means you two finally shut up, I’m all for it,” Magnus grumbled, but there was no heat to his tone. Alec snorted in response and the sound blended in with Clary’s continued snores.
“She’s the lucky one, she can’t even hear herself,” Izzy pointed out.
Magnus snapped his fingers and the snores dropped off to nearly nothing, the faintest trail of blue wafting over the slumbering woman. “Dust from the explosion,” he said by way of explanation. “Not strong enough to repair the burst eardrums yet, but give me a few hours?” he asked around a yawn.
If anyone responded, Jace never knew. It was enough that they were all there, all mostly in one piece, and all pissed off enough to probably take on some mundane weapons dealers once they were back on their feet again. They might even have some parental assistance in the matter. He would figure that all out when he woke up again.
Feedback is always welcomed.
Fandom: Shadowhunters
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~4,900 words
Synopsis: Their job was to protect the mundanes from the demons and the Downworlders. But who was to protect them from the mundanes?
Author’s Note: Yes, the title is a reference to the song Twilight Zone by Golden Earring.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no profit from this.
Also available on AO3.
“There’s been a lot of activity reported over in the Hunts Point region this week,” Alec said as he pulled up the map of the corresponding area. Other Shadowhunters weaved to and fro, each with their own assignments, knowing they would be called in if needed but otherwise minding their own business for now.
“There’s always a lot of activity there, mostly of the ‘please run away quickly’ sort,” Clary grumbled under her breath.
Alec ignored her for the most part and continued to point out areas of interest, but Jace felt the need to chime in to clarify, “Are we talking mundane activity or Downworlders? The police can handle the mundane crime.”
Alec made a face that showed he agreed, but that there was more to the reports. “That’s what we have to figure out. The wolves are blaming the vamps and the vamps are blaming the wolves. Increased violence against both, but both deny starting anything.”
“So we go in there and what?” Jace prompted. Missions where they were to dig deep, not step on anyone’s toes, and then do precisely nothing with the intel they discovered were not his favorite.
“Hope our presence is reminder enough to back down,” Isabelle guessed. A look to her brother and he nodded in confirmation.
“If we’re lucky, maybe we can figure out what started all of this. If not, maybe we can stop it before it becomes more of an issue,” he expanded.
“Did Luke mention anything?” Izzy asked.
Clary shook her head but it was Alec who replied, “He’s had four of his return with minor wounds and tales of suspicious activity. They didn’t explicitly blame the vamps, but...”
“But they blamed the vamps,” Jace finished for him. He had seen this play out far too many times before. “I’m guessing the vampires deny any wrong doing, claim they went in to check out the complaint and now have fingers pointed at them?”
“Pretty much,” Alec agreed. “So now it’s our turn to poke around.”
It wasn’t the most glamorous mission, but he reluctantly admitted it was kind of nice having a break from the huge overlying threats of evil trying to destroy them all for once. He knew simple missions helped them better appreciate the normal mixed in with all of the usual abnormalities and not become quite as immune to either. Besides the vamps and the wolves, while they hadn’t been getting along like best friends or anything ridiculous like that lately, had maintained a truce of sorts. Anything threatening that truce had the potential to blow up in their faces in a major way.
So they gathered their weapons and activated their obfuscations and marched out into a fairly decent evening. The wind had the slightest of bite to it, but the heat from the day still lingered making it an almost pleasant walk save for the occasional smell of trash and exhaust. There was the blare of the random car alarm and the smash of dishes from within a house, but nothing screamed for their attention, nothing screamed of anything more than a usual mundane night in a less than opulent neighborhood.
Until something caught Jace’s attention.
Two men, dressed a shade nicer than one would expect given the time and place, clearly impatient and clearly hoping not to be seen. It was an easy enough task to hone in on their conversation, even if he didn’t sense any demon involvement yet. He didn’t even need to activate his rune; he got close enough to listen in perfectly fine on his own and they had no idea that they were not alone.
“He’s late,” the first one complained.
The second one waved him off. “He drives a school bus, maybe the kids had a field trip,” he reasoned.
“Yeah? Well we need that bus for transport. I don’t like our merchandise sitting out waiting to be found, I’m funny that way,” the first one sneered.
A glance showed several boxes sitting in the backs of several pickup trucks. The first row was obviously for show, cardboard things loaded with junk. Behind them, half draped with torn blankets and what might have been a roll top at one point, were far nicer containers of much sturdier quality.
The men were talking again, the second one pointing out, “This was your idea, man. I told you there’d be glitches. If this is the worst of it? The runner being like fifteen minutes late after everything we had to do to get to this point? We’re golden.”
As if on cue, a dirty yellow bus pulled up, mud spattered and reeking of diesel in a way that made his nose twitch. The door cranked open on the side and an older man in a worn plaid shirt and jeans apologized, “Sorry, the kids were late coming back from a farm trip. Whole bus smells like chicken shit and pigs.”
The first of the suits made a face, but gestured to the other man and said, “Get loading, we can still beat the deadline.”
A lackey emerged from each truck and began to unpack, shifting the decoy boxes to the side to get to the real goods. Alec and Izzy had snuck around to the far side of the trucks but Clary had stayed relatively close to him up until that point. Something caught her eye and she edged closer to the bus itself. He watched as she cocked her head to the side and then activated her hearing rune, honed in on something he had yet to notice.
Before he could activate his own, she slunk back and said, “There’s kids on the bus. Two of them. They must have fallen asleep on the ride back - Simon and I did that once and... anyway, they can’t be more than seven or eight. I saw one of the backpacks and heard the girl trying to wake the boy up.”
“We’ve got to get them out of there,” Jace agreed, knowing exactly where she was going with her findings.
She motioned to Izzy and pointed at her neck, letting her know to listen in. She whispered her findings and watched them be relayed and no one was surprised when Alec headed straight for the bus and Izzy headed straight for whatever contraband was about to be in transit. For his part, Jace let them get into position while he watched for everything to go pear shaped as he had a sinking feeling it would.
The lights that flickered a quick one-two beat across the street were a warning. The stampede of feet and the cock of mundane weaponry was another. “Get out of there,” he whispered, knowing his friends would see the oncoming threat as simply more reason to get the kids to safety.
Alec was already on the bus, and Clary was reaching for the rear door. The handle didn’t turn and so she etched a quick unlocking rune and forced the issue. By now the two sides of what he could tell were an entirely mundane argument had spat out their threats and brought out their guns, one shouting that the others were less than intelligent as they would set everything off, only using some creative profanity to do so.
A glance showed Izzy rifling through the contents of one of the boxes she had obtained, eyes wide, man collapsed at her feet. A second glance, this one towards a cracked open safety window lit solely by the streetlight, showed Alec trying to convince the kids to leave with him, which meant he had dropped his obfuscation and could be seen at any moment.
Jace decided that the mission had successfully gone to hell in a hand basket when the first shot was fired. He was already in motion, closing the distance towards where Clary and Alec had ducked and covered. The glass from a bus window exploded and the now open and swinging back door was being used as a potential shield from bullets, even as it served as a target, drawing attention to something that really should not be moving.
Clary pushed the door into position anyway, and helped Alec lower the kids to the pitted asphalt. Jace knocked down the man that would have shot at his parabatai, twisted, and then took out another, their trigger reflexes stunted when presented with a sword wielding opponent that they couldn’t actually see. Alec nodded his thanks and then ushered the kids towards what would hopefully be safety, bodily shielding them until they took off at a fast run into the shadows of houses and alleyways.
Jace paused for a moment then, not certain if they should further meddle in mundane affairs. That decision was ripped away from him when the second group continued to fire.
They clearly still did not have a read on Clary, but Alec was another matter all together as he had not yet reactivated his obfuscation. A bullet ripped into his shoulder and he stumbled, body shaking as if hit by another. Clary was closer by a hair and rushed towards his side, but never made it. A stray bullet hit one of the boxes and it exploded with earth shattering sound and light. Flames and sparks hit the dilapidated bus and soon enough the gas tank had joined in the revelry.
Jace was knocked to the ground, dazed, but was able to clamber to his feet again through sheer force of will. He forced his eyes to focus and did not like what he saw. Clary was crumpled in a heap, half covered in debris from the bus. Alec was only a few feet away from her, clutching at his chest, soot and scraps littered about him.
The mundanes were fleeing the scene, taking a handful of potshots along the way but obviously running while the running was good. Some of their own were dead or nearly so, and at least one was on fire.
He ignored all of that and rushed to Alec’s side, only to find a bloody and filthy Izzy already there. She activated his iratze rune while Jace searched for further injuries. He found several, to say the least. Alec would be uncomfortable, and would need a day or so to rest to fully heal, but he would heal eventually and that was all that mattered.
Clary still hadn’t moved though and so, while Izzy cradled her brother’s head in her lap, Jace crawled the short distance to check on the final member of their team. He rolled her over carefully and found what might have been a graze across her left arm but thankfully no other wounds from the mundanes’ ridiculous weapons. Blood flowed freely from her scalp near her hairline, and it worried him that a fair deal dripped from her ear as well.
“Clary?” he whispered, hoping to be heard over the roar of the continuing fire behind them. They needed to get out of there. The police would be there soon and all four of them could use a place to rest that wasn’t a debris-filled street.
He cupped her face in his hands and ran his thumbs over her eyebrows, careful of the tiny nick he found even there. Her face scrunched up in pain and she let out a low moan, but eventually she managed to pry her eyes open only to slam them shut again.
There were sirens now, as expected, but there was also a glow of purple added to the overwhelming orange and he knew Isabelle had called in a reinforcement of their own.
He turned to see Alec slumped between Magnus and Izzy, his parabatai’s feet useless to support himself as they lifted him up and shuffled towards the glow. “Can you get her on your own?” Magnus asked, which was a stupid question because of course he could.
Well, usually could with no problem but it was far harder when a dazed and confused Clary fought the simplest of actions and he resorted to bodily lifting her into a fireman’s carry to join the others through the portal back to the institute. People cleared the way pretty much immediately, and he knew rumors would abound by morning.
He hadn’t realized his own injuries until a medic shoved him down and activated his rune. It was only then he noticed the scratches and scabs and the clothing that was stained with blood that may or may not be his own. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “It was those two that were caught in the explosion.”
His reputation preceded him, as did Isabelle’s, which meant the medics left them mostly alone after that as well as knew not to try to kick them out while they dealt with the other two. They also knew not to cross Magnus while he fussed over his boyfriend, which was really for the best.
“His wounds are already healing,” one of the medics said encouragingly, and the warlock offered a half smile in thanks.
“How’s Clary?” he asked, but had already left the bed they had given him to check on her himself. A medic was dabbing at the blood from her temple and the young woman winced and swatted the hand away.
“Jace!” she exclaimed, too loud and too off key in worrying ways. She paused and reached towards her ears, only to have her hands held away from them by the well-meaning medic. She changed tactics and reached for the graze on her arm, and was swatted at again.
“We’ll get to those in a moment,” the woman promised her, tone low and soothing. Shadowhunters might face the worst demons with barely a blink of an eye, but trying to get them to be calm and rational after a fight while the adrenaline was still fresh in their systems was always an uphill battle.
Instead of reassuring her, it sent Clary even more into a panic. “I can’t... I can’t hear anything! Everything’s muffled and foggy and...” She trailed off when she tried to push herself up to her elbows. She didn’t tumble right off the edge of the bed solely due to the quick reflexes of the medic and Jace and the only reason why his shoes were not decorated with her earlier dinner was from Isabelle’s own quick reflexes at shoving a basin towards her in time.
“Her hearing rune was activated right before the explosion,” Izzy told the medic. “She and Alec were the closest, though I don’t know if he activated his or not. It’s how she found the children.”
“And it likely amplified the effects,” Magnus pointed out. He looked torn between helping his already mostly healed lover and someone he called friend that was still hurting.
Alec chose that moment to raise to full consciousness versus the fleeting version he had been playing around with before. He opened his eyes and groaned, took in where he was and who he was with and immediately demanded, “Are the kids safe?” His own voice was far more modulated and closer to his usual growl, either from experience or sheer force of will.
“They booked it right before everything else hit,” Isabelle assured him.
He seemed to understand her with no issue, so Jace ruled out him having the same side effects as the woman sheepishly wiping her mouth. Alec glanced her way, likely to check up on her. Failing that, he tried to push himself up into a sitting position despite the protests, and then flopped back down clutching his shoulder, a ground out exclamation of pain managing to escape.
“Alexander?” Magnus asked, clearly concerned.
“Bullets,” Clary announced from the bed next to him. She might not be able to hear, but her vision was still tracking enough to watch the debacle even if she squinted more than she should. Her volume was still way off and she once again tried to sit up only to lean heavily to one side and turn even paler than usual. Jace had the feeling she had gotten her bell rung far worse than he first suspected, even without the other issues. “They’re not like arrows or swords. If they’re still in him... He could have internal bleeding or they could still be moving around or... Wounds inside even if we don’t see anything outside.” It was a testament to her state of mind that she felt the need to explain the concept in a room full of healers and fighters, none of which took any offense as she was simply trying to look out for one of their own.
It was also one of the few things that would have made him leave her side in her current condition. Jace managed to confirm the medic had her and moved to the other bed in about a second. He helped Magnus gently rotate Alec to do a more thorough examination and found that, while the front of his parabatai’s shirt had three distinct holes that lined up with reddened and angry skin beneath the fabric, the back had precisely none. He dragged the dirty fabric up to find skin with nothing but mild bruising that was already beginning to fade. “The iratze is sealing the wounds, but it won’t remove the source,” he guessed.
Magnus had quite the rant about mundane weapons and the destructive nature there of at that, all the while bodily tearing the remains of the shirt off to more clearly show the healing wounds below. “They have to come out,” he finally announced after a quick scan with his magic. He then cupped Alec’s face in his hands and apologized, “I’m sorry, my angel, there is no other way. I may be able to force you into unconsciousness, but I will not be able to cope with pain management and removal at the same time if we are to ensure we get all of the pieces.”
“Just do it,” Alec ground out, ever the martyr. He flopped back gracelessly, but was unable to hide how much even that hurt.
“Oh for...” Jace griped. He knew they didn’t have time to grab the stash of brandy from the head office that he wasn’t supposed to know about to help deaden the sensation that way, not to mention the whole alcohol and probable ill effects aspects of it. He forced Alec’s hand into his own and said, “We’ve done this before. Give me what you can’t take.”
Which is how he got an up close and personal view of a blue mist settling about healing yet still blood- and soot-smeared skin. What happened next he really wished he could unsee. Alec’s body as a whole vibrated for a moment, a sensation he felt to his very core. A moment of stillness and silence, and then the bullets burst backwards from Alec’s chest and stomach, the wounds violent and red, bleeding freely as they undid all of the healing his body had already completed. Alec gripped his hand like a vice and, even though he did his best not let anything slip through their bond, Jace was a sneaky bastard when he wanted to be and took on more than offered anyway. His own chest burned in phantom pain, his own lungs seized in shock, and it took Isabelle’s reassuring touch and constant whispering to remind him to let it go and take another breath again.
Magnus, of course, was not quite done yet. There was the clink of metal as the pieces of whatever he had removed hit the ground, but it was distant and inconsequential in comparison to the pure rush of energy, of magic, that poured out from the warlock. Jace himself was beginning to get lightheaded from the ebb and pull, from the spikes of pain followed by spikes of euphoria that he could feel through his bond with Alec. He had no idea if there had been that much damage or if Magnus was being just that thorough, but he sure as hell was not going to try to stop him.
Eventually, through the haze, he heard Clary’s exclamation of, “Magnus!” He opened eyes that he didn’t remember closing and saw the warlock falter, entire body heaving as he struggled to remain upright. One medic was dumb enough to lay a hand on his shoulder, and skidded across the room for his effort. A second hand appeared, only this one snapped its fingers in front of Magnus’ face and threatened, “I am not above sedating you, even if you just saved my child’s life, Bane.”
The blue and the mist and the sparks and everything else faded away to reveal one very exhausted warlock slumped half over the edge of the bed. “I don’t believe that will be necessary, Maryse,” he slurred.
Jace didn’t remember too much after that. He had the vague recollection of being pried away from his parabatai, of a familiar exasperated voice that told him, “Jace, darling, you have to let go. Alec will be fine now.” There were hands that he knew well enough not to fight, and then there was cushion against his cheek and a fading light.
When he next opened his eyes, he didn’t know if it was minutes or hours later. The lights had been dimmed, but there was still enough ambient brightness to see Alec laid out in the bed next to him. There was no one to stop him, so he levered himself up onto his elbows, a wave of dizziness easily pushed to the side, and fully took in his surroundings.
He still wore everything he had left in that night in sans his boots, but Alec had been changed into the scrub-like pajamas that meant he would have far more than a single night in the infirmary. A second bed had been scooted closer, far from standard protocol, but possibly the easiest solution given that its occupant was a dozing Magnus, one hand draped over across Alec’s wrist as if seeking his pulse and proof of life even in sleep. One more bed over held Clary, who’s soft snores were timed to perfectly counter Alec’s.
“I think we set a record for how many of our team ended up in here at once,” Isabelle yawned from his side. She was stretched out in a chair, heels kicked to the side so that her bare feet could rest on the edge of his mattress.
“Why aren’t you in one of these? I saw how much blood you lost,” Jace accused without heat. It was a little worrisome to think of how poorly one of the top teams of Shadowhunters had dealt with what turned out to be a mundane problem all along. More worrisome was the thought that the team as a whole had been nearly taken down and would have been at the mercy of whatever else could had been thrown at them without Magnus’ help and love of portals.
“Tattletale,” she pouted. She showed her own iratze though, visible on her clean skin draped in clean clothing and, man, did he need a bath. “Anyway, I might have gotten knocked a bit, but I was further from the blast range and didn’t sap all of my strength trying to heal someone else, so there’s that.”
“Your selfish ways serve you once again?” he teased.
“Something like that,” she agreed with a poke of her foot to his thigh.
He eyed her carefully despite the dig, and found dark shadows under her eyes, a single strand of her usually perfectly coiffed hair twisted and knotted from where she tended to twirl it in a nervous gesture that fooled absolutely none of the people who knew her. She had stayed there for them, on watch, uncertain of when they would wake or what state they would be in when they did so, even when they were surrounded by dozens of other Shadowhunters in one of their strongholds.
He knew she would only glare if he brought any of that up, so instead he asked, “How are they doing?”
“Alec is healing, but I’m assuming you know that already. It will be a few days before he’s back in the field. Clary stopped barfing about an hour ago, which they are taking as a sign her concussion is going away. Her hearing is still shot though and they might send in a specialist if Magnus can’t fix it in the morning. Magnus used up like all of his magic on Alec and is not to go anywhere without an escort or bodyguard until it builds back up, whether he likes it or not per mother’s orders. And you desperately need a shower,” she readily recited, ending with a sniff. The twirl was back though, so he knew she was not nearly as nonchalant about it all as she seemed. Her eyes seemed to zero in on every place that he knew had held even the tiniest of scrapes, whether they were still visible or not.
“Maryse ordered that?” he asked, doubtingly.
“I did,” a voice from the doorway confirmed. “Just like I am ordering you to get some more rest, or at least be silent enough to allow the others to do so.”
His surrogate mother walked over and ran her fingers through his hair in a way that he tried really hard not to lean into. She didn’t seem to mind in the least that he was probably destroying her pristine manicure with the sheer amount of filth on him. “How long was I out?” he asked around a yawn. She knew exactly how to make him pass out again and he didn’t even have the energy to care.
“Just over three hours,” she replied, which explained why he still felt like shit. The last time he and Alec pulled the energy sharing schtick it took him about two days to feel like himself again. At least then they had let him stay in his own bed, so he could use that as precedent if needed.
He let his head loll to the side towards his parabatai and asked, “He really going to be okay? Those mundane weapons... I’ve seen men die from those wounds.”
“Those men did not have a very determined warlock trying to save them,” Maryse pointed out. Softer then, she added, “He will heal; all of you will, including that warlock. But to do that, everyone needs to rest. Seeing how you are determinedly avoiding that, did you want to come with me to get something to eat? We can discuss the Clave’s response and they can actually stop pretending to sleep and maybe even do it for real.”
He paused to listen and realized half of the snoring had stopped. Alec mumbled a rough thanks and Magnus offered a half-hearted thumbs up without even bothering to open his eyes, so Jace decided he should probably take her up on the offer.
He swung his feet over the side of the bed and went to stand, only to nearly crash to his knees on the hard concrete floor. He was stopped by the quick reflexes of the two women next to him. “Yeah, no, not happening any time soon,” Isabelle commented as she hauled him upright, or as close to it as he could currently manage. Without the edge of the bed bracing him, he was fairly certain he would overbalance in the opposite direction.
He didn’t know which was worse, that Maryse pretty much bodily lifted him back up onto the bed, or that she didn’t even need to activate her strength rune to do so. He was down for the count, and there was no hiding it from the woman who raised him. She even had the audacity to tuck a blanket around him.
“I’ll fetch some soup and we can see if you’re still conscious enough to eat it,” she said with another run of her fingers through his hair.
He tried not to be offended.
Izzy looked at her hopefully and she added, “Yes, I’ll get you some too. Angels know there’s no prying you out of here anytime soon.”
Jace listened to the click of her heels as she left and turned his head to where he knew Isabelle had resumed her watch position again, the slight dip to his mattress giving her away. “You know she’s probably going to drug it, right?” he verified.
“If it means you two finally shut up, I’m all for it,” Magnus grumbled, but there was no heat to his tone. Alec snorted in response and the sound blended in with Clary’s continued snores.
“She’s the lucky one, she can’t even hear herself,” Izzy pointed out.
Magnus snapped his fingers and the snores dropped off to nearly nothing, the faintest trail of blue wafting over the slumbering woman. “Dust from the explosion,” he said by way of explanation. “Not strong enough to repair the burst eardrums yet, but give me a few hours?” he asked around a yawn.
If anyone responded, Jace never knew. It was enough that they were all there, all mostly in one piece, and all pissed off enough to probably take on some mundane weapons dealers once they were back on their feet again. They might even have some parental assistance in the matter. He would figure that all out when he woke up again.
Feedback is always welcomed.