Chapter Text
Magnus loved his apartment. Of all the places he’d lived over the centuries, his apartment in Paris was the only place he was anywhere near as attached to as the one in Brooklyn. After his first stay in Paris, he hadn’t thought he could love another city as much, but Brooklyn had ensnared him almost immediately when he arrived, and it was probably his love for the city that had led to his love for his apartment. It hadn’t been particularly noteworthy when Magnus first moved in, but over the decades, he’d made it his own.
Whenever he was going through a bad time, this apartment was his refuge. He didn’t always feel the need to escape to exotic locales to forget like he had once upon a time. Instead, he could retreat into his own space until he felt ready to confront the world again. (Although, sometimes he did still prefer the escape. Didn’t everyone?)
He’d spent the past three years doing his best not to retreat and to instead act like everything was fine. Over the course of that time, his apartment had been neglected. Not in the sense that he’d let it become filthy, but the decor was far more outdated than he would usually be able to stand. It was strange, even to him. Decorating brought him happiness. In the past, a change of decor was exactly what he needed when he was feeling upset, but for the past three years, redecorating had felt almost painful. Each little change made the apartment more different from the space he once shared with Alec.
Magnus was only a few steps into the apartment when Chairman Meow began weaving through his legs. Magnus cooed at him, bending down to stroke his fur and laughing as Chairman pressed into his touch.
Chairman wasn’t his first pet, but he was the first in a while. One could only tolerate so many losses, and the loss of pets, piled on top of all the people Magnus had lost, was sometimes too much. He’d live alone for decades before someone, often Catarina, convinced him he could use the company of an animal.
He’d been very grateful to have Chairman with him since his breakup with Alec. Chairman was just about the only thing that kept him going. He had a compelling reason to be semi-responsible, even if that responsibility looked like snapping his fingers to make more food appear in Chairman’s bowl. At least it was something.
“What am I going to do, Chairman?” he muttered.
Chairman merely purred in response. He never acted differently depending on Magnus’ mood. Others might have disliked that. People liked to think that their pets were trying to comfort them when they were upset, but Magnus liked the idea that Chairman just wanted affection from him, no matter how Magnus himself was feeling.
He sat down on the sofa, and Chairman hopped up beside him, still rubbing against Magnus’ leg.
“I’ve really messed up,” Magnus said as he petted him. “Thank God I have you. I don’t know what I’d do otherwise. This apartment would be far too quiet.”
He sighed. He was thankful for Chairman, but he’d spent too much of the previous three years talking to a cat. Sometimes it couldn’t replace having a human to vent to.
He tilted his head against the back of the couch. When he told Alec that they couldn’t be together because of their positions, he meant it. Magnus could no longer imagine a future where they made it work. But each time he tried to imagine it, he also couldn’t help but think of Will and Tessa. They’d made their relationship work despite everything, and Will had even been the head of the London Institute. Tessa hadn’t been a High Warlock and was part Shadowhunter, but still, most of the Clave hadn’t accepted her as one of their own. Magnus had been amazed at the way they made their marriage work despite the pushback. They’d held their ground in the London Institute despite what others thought.
So far, he’d avoided talking to Tessa about his situation with Alec precisely because, deep in his gut, he was jealous of the way things had worked out for her. He knew he shouldn’t be. She had experienced loss far greater than he had too, but it was hard to think of that rather than the many happy decades she and Will had spent together.
After his brief conversation with Alec outside the Institute, Magnus couldn’t stop thinking about the despair he’d seen on Alec’s face. He needed to talk to someone, and suddenly, Tessa was the only person he wanted to see.
Usually, he didn’t like contacting her while she was in the Spiral Labyrinth. She kept herself busy, and dealing with the Labyrinth was always a pain. He preferred to let her come to him whenever she needed a break from the stuffy place.
He kept the message brief, not wanting to reveal too much in a letter. While he had no reason to believe the message would be intercepted, the idea of anyone reading about what he was thinking made him feel queasy. Tessa knew him well enough to understand how badly he wanted to talk to her without him going into detail about it. She’d already seen him at one of his lowest points.
After he sent it, he tried to settle back onto the couch. Chairman Meow lost interest in him and wandered off to nap in one of the bedrooms. Magnus prepared himself for a long wait. Tessa couldn’t usually just step away from her work in the Labyrinth, which was why he was surprised when a Portal began to form in the center of his living room less than an hour after he sent the message.
Magnus didn’t bother to stand from where he’d slumped on the couch as Tessa stepped into his apartment. “Tessa, wonderful to see you.” He waved the glass of whiskey he’d summoned for himself through the air. “Would you like a drink?”
Tessa raised an eyebrow but didn’t otherwise comment on his current state. That was one of the things he’d always loved about Tessa. No matter how obvious his distress was, she was patient and allowed him to take his time before opening up, unlike Catarina and Ragnor who always seemed to demand that he get it out straight away.
“I’ll take some tea,” Tessa said. “Milk and sugar only.”
With a wave of Magnus’ hands, a to-go cup of tea from a local cafe appeared in Tessa’s hand. She was startled. No doubt she’d expected him to get a teapot and actually steep the tea for her. Even after more than a century of learning about her powers and decades spent in the Labyrinth, she opted to do things the mundane way more often than he did. Still, she recovered quickly. Taking a seat in the empty armchair at the end of the couch, she sat the tea on the coffee table and carefully smoothed her skirt out over her legs.
For the most part, Tessa had adapted well to the changing centuries, but she was still young as far as warlocks went, and for that reason, still clung to some of the conventions of her younger years. It was particularly noticeable in the way she carried herself, which held little of the casualness of most in the twenty-first century.
Magnus found it endearing. It never ceased to remind him of how young she was compared to his other warlock friends, yet she was the one he was seeking out for advice when it came to relationships. She’d been far luckier than him when it came to romance. Most of the time he didn’t begrudge her that, but when he was already in a bad mood… He wondered if asking her to come really had been a good idea.
“It’s been too long,” Tessa said, taking a sip of her tea. “I’m afraid we’ve been rather busy at the Spiral Labyrinth.”
“It has.” Magnus swallowed down the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “You were the only one I could think to talk to about the current situation going on in my life.”
Tessa nodded, waiting patiently for him to share more.
It wasn’t like she was completely clueless about his relationship with Alec. She’d heard bits and pieces of what happened over the last few years. She knew enough to know that it was Magnus’ worst breakup in the time he’d known her. But she hadn’t been there for the relationship itself. She’d never met Alec. Really, his and Alec’s relationship hadn’t been more than a blink of the eye on a warlock time scale.
For the first time, Magnus told her the full story, sparing few details. He let her know about his insecurities and listed the reasons why he and Alec could never work together. She listened patiently the whole time, her eyes wide and attentive.
By the time he finished, he was lighter. He’d shared many parts of the story with various friends already, but it was the first time he’d told all of it at once, and it felt good, like he’d helped clear things up in his own head almost as much as he had filled in the blanks for Tessa.
His glass of whiskey was empty in his hand, but he’d been too into his story to refill it. At some point, he sat it down on the coffee table, where it was forgotten about.
“Do you really think it’s impossible for the two of you to be happy together?” Tessa asked, her voice quiet. “You don’t think you could make it work? Will and I did.”
Magnus drew in a shaky breath. He’d known she’d bring up Will. Her marriage was why he’d invited her, yet the mention of Tessa’s late husband sent a jab of pain to his heart. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, but, “I think that’s why I invited you. Deep down, I want you to convince me that it’s possible even though the challenges feel insurmountable to me.”
Tessa nodded slowly. Her eyes fell down to her tea. She stared at the cup for a few moments before setting it carefully on the table. She scooted to the edge of her chair and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.
“I do think it’s possible, Magnus. I really do. From the way you talk, I can tell how much you care about Alec, and it sounds like he cares about you just as much. That’s all you need really, to care about each other enough.”
Magnus’ throat threatened to close up. “I want to be brave enough to take the risk, but I’m not sure my heart is strong enough to take it anymore. If Alec and I tried again and it didn’t work out, I don’t know how I would bear it.”
Tessa stood and moved to sit beside him on the couch. She took both of his hands in her own, gripping them tightly.
“My age when I met both Will and Jem made a huge difference in my relationships with them,” she said quietly. “I don’t think I fully appreciated how much so until after Will was gone. When we got married, the knowledge that I would have to continue on without him one day was abstract to me. I knew it, but I didn’t understand it in the way I do now. If I had understood, I’m not sure that I would have made the same decisions that I did. It certainly would have been a more difficult decision.”
She looked up at him, her eyes shining.
“But, Magnus, if I hadn’t made those decisions, I always would have regretted it. If I’d refused to marry Will, then his death would haunt me far more than it does now. I can’t imagine having wasted all that time we could have had together because I was scared. You are right that you and Alec will face obstacles, countless of them even, but if there’s one person I know who can love deeply enough to make it through all of that, it’s you.”
Tears began to fall down Magnus’ cheeks. He swiped at them quickly. Tessa’s grip on his hands tightened.
“Don’t close yourself off to love, Magnus. That’s how warlocks petrify. You know that better than I do.”
He did know it, and petrification had long been his biggest fear. Over the centuries, he’d met his fair share of warlocks who were still alive but not really present. Some of them were little more than statues that did the bare minimum to keep themselves alive and nothing more. He’d been terrified of becoming one of them since he’d learned what petrification entailed. He couldn’t figure out why they didn’t fight harder against it.
Yet somewhere along the line, as love grew increasingly painful, he’d become more scared of it than petrification. He’d started to close himself off. Finally, he understood how warlocks let themselves get into that state.
His own heart was far from hardened. He’d felt safe from petrification because the pain was so unbearable, but if he kept distancing himself, Tessa was right. He was going down a dangerous path, and he would have to do something about it.