Archive of Our Own ^beta

Magnus has been thirty-four for about twenty-eight years already by the time he's finally informed via a fire message that his expected induction into the Society is about to begin. Being meant for the fiftieth birthday celebration, it's so overdue that the truth is, he's already lost interest, considered himself forgotten and begun doing his own thing in the meantime. His logic was this: clearly, being an official part of the demonic commune was not necessary for his survival or maintaining the quality of life and if he was overlooked, it clearly wasn't important enough, so he needed to live his life on his own. He definitely had no interest in pursuing the issue through the official means he was familiar with and could have used.

By now he knows it was naïve enough to think he'd get any more attention than the absolute bare minimum from the powers that be (meaning the demonic elite). He's an orphan on both his human and demonic side and to this day he still hasn't gotten an answer about what half-demon he was even supposed to be. He mostly thinks of himself as 'just Magnus' but when he needs to, he reminds himself he's a cambion. Although, the folk tales are unclear on whether that's the name of all demon-children or specifically the sex demons. He's heard it both ways, although usually as an accusation, so he didn't expect scholarly knowledge from those people. It doesn't truly matter either way, since Magnus does happen to like sex, so he might as well go with assumed sex demon parentage. It wouldn't have bothered him.

It used to sting, the indifference of both sides of his 'family'. While he knows his human parent is no longer alive, he can't have the same certainty about his supernatural one. He never had any contact from them, only from the… well, the body of the demonic society, or whatever it should be called. Demons can be killed more easily than one might think so it's not completely unlikely that Magnus is a full orphan. And maybe that was indeed the reason for the others sidelining him.

Whatever the case may be, Magnus's natural talent of moving on and ignoring others' opinions of him got him out of low moods and usually put him in the middle of parties instead. In fact, it worked so well that he spent a week going from event to event, breaking up the party routine with only the most necessary amount of sleep. He might not have felt the very best at the time but so long as he looked fantastic as usual, he didn't care.

That was in the past, just after Magnus had decided his home address probably got lost in the demon files and he was not going to get an invitation to anything at all. Sometime later, he got over it enough to go back to spending his days the normal way and doing paid favors for his acquaintances. They were mostly witches, but not exclusively. Magnus rarely had reason to turn someone away and though he usually asked to keep it secret, he sometimes went without payment. It let him acquire a reputation among witches and other supernatural beings, which eventually made him popular for reasons other than great dancing at parties.

For some reason, that never helped him get much attention from the Society. Sure, Magnus has friends among demons and demon-human offspring like himself, but they're not the ones pulling the strings.

All of that is why the fire message is a surprise, which Magnus would go so far as to say is an inconvenience at that point.

He already has plans of his own for the week and means to leave for Sicily next month, and with the demonic business being a trial of sorts, he knows it's supposed to take more than a few days.

At first, a thought crosses his mind to just ignore it and continue as he always has, but he doesn't do that simply because he'd hate to end up looking petty. Or worse, a petulant child saying 'no' to what they had wanted previously. Being petty is an art form and Magnus reserves his skills at it for other, better occasions.

The message gives him the day and time of an appointment made for him (without his input) and stresses that he's required to be present for it. It doesn't say 'or else' but he can read between the lines that there won't be any rescheduling available. Rolling his eyes wouldn't be seen by anyone so he just sighs in the solitude of his apartment instead. The worst possible outcome is that whoever shows up will just get on his nerves enough to make Magnus drop the whole thing after all, so he comforts himself with that thought.

There's nothing else in the note, just the line with the date and his name, so he knows it's for him. It doesn't mention anything that he should prepare for the meeting, so he goes ahead and forgets about the whole note for the rest of his night.

The following day, Magnus wakes up late and spends his noon and afternoon lounging in a silk robe, listening to music. He had meant to work on some hexes first and lounge later, but since he was going to have to work later as the message told him to, he shifted his plans to lounging first and working later.

Well, to be honest, he's hoping the first meeting regarding his advancement into the Society will be short and only introduce him to the terms and conditions, so to speak, and he'll have the night to himself again. It's not that he's too lazy to get it done quickly, he just happens to hate dealing with the unknown. And since he's not prepared in any way for what he might be expected to do, it's the very definition of the unknown.

What he can do in preparation, however, is to look his best (as usual), and if he can't charm his new assistant, he'll at least be able to leave for Pandemonium right away. Maybe he'll collect more orders for hexes and divinations, so he'll be able to bury himself in actual work to forget the disappointment.

He ends up wearing black pants and a black satin shirt, with one of his favorite jackets on top; the one in deep purple and embossed with diamond patterns. Purple goes into his hair as color streaks, as well, and he adds a gold streak in between them to liven things up. Jewelry is not his priority, as he doesn't plan to appear like he's wanting to impress anyone with money so he just leaves his usual set of signet rings on and the newest earring he's acquired in Spain.

It's near the appointed time, while he's sitting in his armchair, enjoying a little wine, when there is a firm knock on the front door of his apartment. Magnus does wonder about that since he has a perfectly functional, mundane doorbell mounted on the wall. Admittedly, it's a fancy model with a pleasant ring, but still, it's the modern way of announcing one's presence.

Behind the door, when Magnus opens it, stands a man who is unlike anything Magnus had expected to see. He is tall, dark and handsome, which in itself is not strange, especially not for a demon, but it's that he happens to be exactly what Magnus likes so that's kind of… unsettling. Since demons of higher ranking can shift forms, it means this form was intentional and there's no way to know for certain if it's coincidental or purposeful. Well, either way, Magnus can certainly enjoy looking.

He's looking while saying a cheerful 'hello' and stepping aside to invite the guest in because no one ever accused Magnus Bane of having no manners. The guest nods in acknowledgement of the greeting and steps inside just far enough that the door can be closed. Then, he produces a piece of paper to take a glance at it.

Magnus wants to sigh inwardly. Already with the paperwork while he's standing here, prepared to be a perfect host.

"Magnus Bane?" the guest asks but it's clear it's just for confirmation. He knows he got the right address, Magnus thinks.

"That's me. Now, I would like to know who I'm talking to, pretty boy."

That earns him an odd look.

"Alexander Lightwood, your assistant for the crossing of the fiftieth birthday and fulfilling the requirements of the trial."

Magnus frowns. He ignores the official speech completely and does not point out that the specific birthday has already long passed. Instead, he focuses on the beginning of that sentence.

"That's not a demonic name," he notes out loud. In fact, it sounds vaguely like the opposite, a Nephilim one.

"I'm with the New York Institute," the guest confirms, "but it doesn't make me any less qualified for the task."

"Oh?" Magnus says. This is all already going very differently from what he's been expecting.

"I've received the assignment and I'll make sure it's successful. As a rule, we research our tasks and assign them to the most qualified members. If it's hopeless, we're upfront about it."

The words sound like they might as well have been said by a robot, but the man saying them is certainly too… earnest and honest-sounding to be one.

"I don't know you yet, so I wasn't doubting your skills, darling," Magnus replies. "Surely you understand I'm mostly confused by how someone like you got the job with someone like me."

"It was sent down as an assignment and we confirmed the details were true. I don't intend to leave it unfinished in our files and I don't see a reason why it'd clash with our… kind."

Magnus thinks about it. It's not that he has anything against the Nephilim, except that they have a talent to be killjoys sometimes when out in the city, but it's just a little too strange for him.

He's mostly convinced to go through with it, thanks to the sight in front of him, because Magnus is the last person to let an opportunity like this pass him up. The guest, Alexander, is holding himself rather too stiffly for Magnus's liking but there's hope he can get him to lose a bit of the Nephilim seriousness and maybe they can both enjoy the job. The official speech will have to go.

Magnus gestures to the center of his living room while asking Alexander to sit down. There's a moment when the man stays still, eying the armchair and the sofa with what Magnus reads as distrust mixed with an unwillingness to move. Magnus insists, then, adding that he only means to discuss the assignment in conditions more comfortable than standing around by the entrance to the apartment.

"Fine," is what Alexander says in reply before moving to sit in his chosen spot.

Oh well. Magnus sees that it may be more difficult than he'd thought, to get the Nephilim to progress to friendlier terms than robot speak and one-word, toneless replies.

Magnus uses conjuration power to have them both equipped with drinks and while the guest doesn't even flinch when a whole glass materializes out of thin air at the low table in front of him, he does look at it like it might just jump up and bite him if he moves.

Ignoring the glass, he slides a closed envelope over the table to where Magnus is sitting down.

"That's for you," he says, and indeed, there is Magnus's name on it, burned out in demonic glyphs straight in the paper. That, at least, is a sign that this whole thing might be legitimate, rather than some sort of Nephilim trick. Nephilim can use fire messages the same as demons or some witches, but they aren't capable of faking the burn writing.

Magnus reaches for it despite wanting to forgo the paperwork and move on to the rest of the evening instead.

Inside, there are two sheets of thick paper, one detailing who it is for, repeating Magnus's name and the second contains a list that's the most important part of everything. At this point, Magnus focuses on it more than on his guest and takes time to read it carefully to make sure he's not missing anything.

Reveal the demon mark, says the first line. Magnus knows what that means and it's something he has been avoiding because it's of no value to his daily life. It was also, to be honest, something he wasn't looking forward to. He's perfectly aware of the existence of marks and he knows what they are, but he never tried to figure out his own.

Next, it says to Utilize demon magic, which confuses Magnus somewhat because he has been using magic. It is surely demonic, too, because he's not capable of using the witches' one. And maybe that's exactly what he has Alexander for, to clarify it for him. After all, he's here to assist, not just deliver envelopes.

Clarifications can wait, however, and Magnus reads on.

Break laws of the mundane world. Huh, that's another unclear one. Magnus is too smart to jump onto the first obvious meaning, which is the legal kind of law for judges and the police and such. He's broken enough of those already. Unless… the task means murder or something drastic like it, to pull Magnus to a dark side? He doesn't believe so, but he can't be certain at that moment.

Breaking laws could also possibly mean revealing magic, demons and other supernatural things, but Magnus doesn't see how that'd benefit anyone. He doubts the other demon-kind want him to run around drawing summoning circles in the middle of the Times Square.

He glances at Alexander, who's patiently sitting still, his head turned slightly while he's looking at a painting on the wall to their left. When he feels Magnus's gaze on him, he returns it but before he can comment on it or ask if he needs anything, Magnus looks back down at the paper in his hand and continues reading the list.

Forget others in a selfish pursuit. This one should be a piece of cake? Actually, it should have already come crossed out because over the years, Magnus has certainly been selfish enough times.

Push yourself beyond the mortal body. That at least makes a lot of sense in the context of embracing his demonic roots and probably goes together with finding his demon mark. Magnus isn't very keen on changing his appearance, body parts or the nature he already has, but he's hoping he can achieve the set goals without doing too many things he doesn't want to do or losing anything of himself. Unfortunately, he can't say he has any trust in the demon elite to care about him or what he wants, so he will have to be the one looking out for himself.

His eyes stray to Alexander again. How can he even fit into this job? He's Nephilim. They're no angels and their own morals are sketchy at best in Magnus's humble opinion, but ultimately, they are the light force doing the most protection against dark forces. They're the ones looking out for mundanes even if they don't even like most of them so Magnus can't imagine him happily following a half-demon on a law-breaking spree.

This really makes Magnus need a nice, long sip from his glass, so he goes ahead and picks it up from the table.

Still silent, Alexander is looking at him, waiting for Magnus to be done. As much as this is ruining his plans for the evening, Magnus does have enough sense of duty, he supposes, to know they need to talk this over instead of forgetting the paper and going straight to the second round of drinks. …Not that Alexander has even touched the one he already has.

Magnus starts to move to hand over the paper but the other man gets his intention and says simply: "I have a copy."

He does indeed produce a copy from the inside pocket of his jacket. It's not on the same paper as Magnus's and it's folded in half.

"You have questions," Alexander says, unfolding his paper and giving the text a quick look. With all that seriousness on his face, Magnus assumes he doesn't need to see the list to know perfectly well what's on it. He probably already did research and all.

"Considering what's in here," Magnus waves his list in the air, "surely you already know what my concerns are."

The Nephilim inclines his head in agreement.

"I have some guesses. Most of these relate specifically to demonic matters but Nephilim are educated in those, as well as other beings, and I'd venture to say we often know more than the mixed offspring who had no parents or proper education from other sources."

Magnus gives him a long look. "That's not what I'm concerned with, pretty boy. Pretty and smart, which is my favorite combination. I am more curious how your values as Nephilim go with, say, number three."

To that, the man nods in understanding. "I didn't have enough time to thoroughly prepare but I did start thinking of it and have some ideas."

"All right, will you share?"

"No. One, because they're just ideas for now and two, because we will be starting from the beginning. You'll need to complete the previous points and I think it might be good practice before the more complicated ones."

Magnus takes another sip and has already topped up his glass before he even finished the first he'd conjured. He wonders if Alexander's talent is going to be making things easier and harder for him at the same time.

"Fine, then. Mister angelic guide, what are we to do next to get us started?" Magnus asks, leaning back in his armchair. His letter is put back into the envelope while Alexander keeps holding his.

As an answer, Alexander launches into a recount of statistics regarding demonic children of mixed blood and their marks. It's factual and Magnus is forced to appreciate how neutral in his tone and language the Nephilim is, without anything that could sound like judgement seeping into his words. At the same time, he still annoys Magnus with the same serious approach to the task and issues related to it, because that forces Magnus to do another thing - imagine Alexander sitting at his serious desk, doing actual research essentially for Magnus's benefit, while Magnus himself was probably in the bath at the same time, planning how to get his demonic assistant to stay the evening for fun reasons instead.

While Alexander talks, Magnus walks the fine line between zoning out and half-heartedly listening. He does know all these things, which is why he knows Nephilim's knowledge is correct.

Alexander comes up with a neat little conclusion, too, as if this was his school essay assignment. He suggests that since Magnus is a grown man and it's unlikely (as well as undesirable) to have him discover his mark through a traumatic event or in a fight for his life, he is left with the option of becoming more in touch with his demon blood. If he's more in tune with magic and his instincts, he might find it easier or possibly even useful to call his mark into view in the material sense.

When Magnus asks how he'd do that and that he has no time to sit around meditating on his nature, Alexander scoffs.

"Meditating is for those interested in it and willing to actually do it. You might need a little more of a tangible push."

"Am I supposed to be insulted or oddly touched that you're thinking of me with such insight?"

"I don't need you to feel anything about me or my words, except maybe expect that I do my job right. Eventually, a little gratitude might be a nice touch."

Magnus blinks. "Well, darling, if we manage to get completion ticks all the way down the list, I will show you just how well I am able of showing gratitude."

It truly is a shame how effective his guest is at showing how unimpressed he is with just his look. Those are some really pretty, big bright eyes, and Magnus would rather have them show a little appreciation of the effort Magnus had gone through hours before to give Alexander his best self to look at.

Those lips, too, Magnus could find other uses for than being pressed into a thin line while their owner pretty much glares at Magnus.

Alexander says nothing, but all the same, Magnus raises his hands in mock surrender.

"I mean it," he says. "I obviously want this to work out. Both my personal quest and the cooperation between us. I am appreciative of you taking the job and coming to assist me. Especially considering who you are and that you didn't have to take it on when no one else did."

Thankfully, that does make the other man relax slightly and let go of the pinched expression.

"Good. But don't worry, I've never been run off a job by outrageous flirting before."

Magnus can't help the delighted surprise smile curving his lips.

The smile dies when Alexander takes a glance at his watch and says: "You should probably change if we're to leave soon."

There's a pause filled with silence and then, "Now?" Magnus asks, the word coming out slightly choked because he already knows Alexander is not prone to joking. "It's nighttime."

"Yes," the guest replies patiently. "I want to try encountering demonlings or darklings, so it's safer to try with the weaker types. At night."

"Normal people sleep at night, you can't expect me to just stay up late-"

He trails off because that very specific expression of unimpressed exasperation returns to Alexander's face.

"As far as I know, you have no issues at all staying up late. I can ask some of the local bartenders for confirmation."

Magnus winces mentally. "You did do your research. Do I have a large file in your angelic systems?"

"I didn't need a file. I do live in New York," Alexander says and that is that for a while.

"Fine," Magnus relents eventually because while he hates this, a lot, it might be better to just get it over with quicker and release Alexander from his obligation… so that Magnus can be free and go find someone else with bright, hazel eyes to charm.

While in his bedroom, changing into items of clothing he won't terribly mind getting dusty or damaged on their outing, Magnus is thinking back to what Alexander said about living in New York. It means Magnus has a reputation. That is, of course, he knows he does because he's worked hard for it, but it's just a surprise any Nephilim would care to know it.

Magnus is known for his ability to party longer than most while avoiding getting gracelessly drunk (he's always graceful, thank you), for usually being one of the best dancers on the floor and for being an excellent tipper. He makes it a point to patronise new places but he has some firm favorites he keeps returning to, so it's not strange that he'd be known from those clubs. It's also not completely unlikely that some other Nephilim, being less of a stick in the mud than Alexander is, would frequent the city club scene and notice him.

Or, possibly, they had some of their hunting business lead them through clubs and that is something they might have had in common in the past. As much as Magnus likes keeping away from others' problems, he tends to go out of his way to get rid of supernatural issues in his favorite spots. The last thing he wants is an accident, murder or a mystery blood summoning circle getting his clubs closed indefinitely. He wonders, now, if he'd possibly interfered with Nephilim hunt or two without even realizing.

His run-ins with feral vampires, hungry demonlings and other strange creatures wanting to prey on drunk partying mundanes are why tonight he's not completely dreading going out into the night with a Nephilim to go after the supernatural.

If Alexander truly wants them to get into fighting, then what scares Magnus is the possibility of getting ichor stains on his shoes.

-

As luck would have it, Magnus returns home that night after four am. Or somewhere around it. He has nothing to show for hours of horribly spent time and only Alexander can be pleased with the number of darkling creatures they've encountered and eliminated or scared into crossing back into their realm.

His magic got a good workout from it but since it was not what he wanted or needed, he's entirely not pleased with even that.

They did everything as Alexander wanted and suggested but nothing made him feel as though he was getting any closer to his 'true nature', so the item on the list remained unchecked. They were lucky enough to see several various types of demonlings but killing them never did anything to Magnus's mood or his attitude towards them so he doubts he'll discover what type his demon parent belonged to this way while he kills them with Alexander instead of alone.

Magnus knows it's childish to be discouraged after literally just one day (not even twelve hours, at that) of trying, but he's just too tired, too frustrated and disappointed to care to not have childish emotions.

When he gets home, he cleans himself off with magic and doesn't even stop to chase his bad mood down with alcohol. He just drops on his pillows and sleeps.

-

The next morning, his magic is perfectly fine, but his human body is not. He wakes up terribly hungry and terribly sober, and he drowns his bad mood in an overly large, overly sweet coffee monstrosity he conjures from a certain shop he knows. He drinks that while looking into his fridge in search of snacks he'd intended to have the previous night… The previous night that he'd planned to spend lounging artfully and comfortably on his sofa, preferably with a pretty guest still present.

The memory makes him groan into the coffee cup that he now emptied one-third of. He wishes Alexander had been more irritating or rude, or just simply more disagreeable so that Magnus could have said to hell with his assignment. Unfortunately, there's no solid reason yet for him to resign.

* * *

Alexander appears earlier than he had the previous evening but it is still objectively late. He'd probably slept long, too, as Magnus had. Or maybe not. Maybe he'd woken up fresh like a morning lark, ready to do his fresh Nephilim paperwork and chase other people to do their jobs.

Whatever the answer is, he looks fine. To Magnus's eyes, more than fine. It is a curse, Magnus thinks, placed on his person. It's not outside of the realm of possibilities that dealing with the Nephilim it is part of the test aside from the task list.

Alexander stands at the door while Magnus spends three seconds in silence wondering if he should even let the man in. That gets him a reaction in form of slowly rising brows (those are fine eyebrows, too), so Magnus sighs and calls up enough enthusiasm to say, "Hello, Alexander. Maybe today I can charm you with a drink and my other, numerous hosting talents."

"I was rather expecting you to be preparing to leave…" the man replies, eying Magnus's silk robe and slippers.

"To be fair, we had no set hour to begin. It wasn't even clear what day we'd continue."

"Ah, true," it surprises Magnus to hear the honest reaction. "I suppose we overdid it last night and I'd forgotten to mention it. It's my bad."

"You think crawling into bed past four am was overdoing it?"

Alexander shrugs, having the grace to look the tiniest bit sheepish. "We've both been up later than that," he says as if it makes the last night any better.

"Not fighting gross things in the back alleys."

Another small shrug. Right. He had been fighting gross things in the back alleys. Magnus crosses his arms on his chest. All in all, he's not feeling very awful after he's had sleep and the magic he'd used much more than before feels positively lively inside of him. There's not really an excuse for him to use not to go with Alexander today and it still is true that he wants to get it over with quickly.

"Please sit down, make yourself at home," he says, before leaving the room to go change.

-

They go out while it's still before the sunset and it almost feels like a nice walk down a familiar street. Alexander is, of course, quiet, so Magnus takes it upon himself to fill the silence with talk. He's got some questions that Alexander dutifully answers for him regarding Nephilim in New York and their work. Magnus keeps it general enough to avoid being told 'it's confidential' or whatever the Nephilim equivalent is, but he does get much of his curiosity satisfied in the end. Alexander sounds rather proud of his kind and his job, and surprisingly doesn't seem to mind giving longer replies about it.

When he's not being annoyed by Magnus and showing it, his voice is rather nice to listen to. It's smooth and steady.

Steady is also what Alexander is while killing hostile creatures. The experience is obvious in his movements but it's probably also just his nature to do things methodically, with no rush unless it's necessary for survival. On that second day, knowing what to expect, Magnus feels freer and less stressed, which allows him to pay more attention to the Nephilim. That allows him in turn to notice that Alexander always pays attention to where Magnus is and whenever he can, he makes kills easier for Magnus or makes sure nothing jumps on him from behind.

There's nothing Magnus would like more than to encourage Alexander to be more protective of him (not that Magnus needs it, but it's a very nice first step to something more), but the thing is, he's not sure how making things safer for him is going to help him. The point was to make him use magic and come into contact with demonic beings, not to break a Nephilim cleaning-up record, right?

That night, they accidentally discover a nest of darkling spiders. They're gross creatures, with entirely too many twisted legs that ironically make them move slower than one would expect them to move. The worse issue than speed is that they're small and numerous, like a swarm, and someone not prepared to face them will easily be overwhelmed.

The Nephilim are prepared, obviously, but even though he's one of them, Alexander is struggling. At least, that's the impression Magnus gets from how he moves and reacts. Magnus isn't sure about the reason and there might be many, so he doesn't speculate and instead returns the favor of making things easier, incinerating whole bunches of them with fire magic. It's kind of satisfying to do.

Eventually, the mystery is solved when he hears Alexander mutter to himself: "I hate spiders."

It's unclear whether he means it to be heard by Magnus or not, but Magnus does take note of it and puts more effort into doing the work of ending the swarm.

A wrench is thrown into his plans of getting the hell out of the abandoned warehouse they're in when he takes a step on what no longer is solid ground, and finds himself tumbling down onto some sort of old scaffolding and rolling down from it onto the floor. His side is hurting from where he hit it and his lungs are full of dust but he's not in immediate danger and nothing seems to be broken.

It would be fitting to stay on the floor in a miserable image of one dirty person who could have been drinking at Pandemonium at this hour instead, but Magnus can't stay there when Alexander is calling his name and Magnus doesn't know where the next darklings are at that point.

Looking up, Magnus can see Alexander leaning over the now obvious hole in the floor of the level he just fell from. Alexander looks concerned, which is touching, but it doesn't help Magnus with his current issue. There's no way he could climb back up because the distance from the scaffolding to the floor above is too large and he has no gift of levitating.

"Wait there," Alexander calls to him. "I'll be right down."

"No," Magnus calls back immediately. "Stay there, keep an eye out on our friends and I'll find some stairs in a second."

The reason why he says it is that he can see this area is much darker than where they'd been previously. It's either because it's the first underground level or there's an adjacent building preventing the lights from the streetlamps from getting in. It's hard to tell with the dirty warehouse windows and Magnus got turned around too much on their way here to know which part of the building they're in anymore.

Still, there must be some stairs, right? The building's not that dilapidated.

"Seriously," he insists when he sees the Nephilim is still figuring out a quick way down for himself. "Stay there, Alexander, there's no need for both of us to waste time down there. I can't see any creatures here anyway."

It's the truth but Magnus's instincts tell him he'll probably run into something soon, probably after he goes out of sight of the hole.

And so, with Alexander staying up, Magnus goes into the first corridor to his left. It's dark in there. Magnus isn't sure if it's better to keep walking in the dark or risk a light. Some monsters run from light but others will use it as a reason to attack. So far, they've only seen spiders but there might be something else in the deeper spaces of the compound.

Deciding to go with light, Magnus creates and maintains a ball of light above his open palm. He keeps it dim to avoid blinding himself, so he can see better something hiding in the line of shadows.

Sure enough, he does run into the spiders, thankfully the same size as the ones levels above. He has not much trouble disposing of them but after a while, it does become inconvenient to have both the light and fire active. Magnus has a few choice words for the situation and he mutters them angrily while batting off a darkling that tries to get on top of his head from the ceiling. The last thing he'll allow those gross little legs to touch is his perfect hair.

At some point, he's forced to decide to end the light ball and focus on killing spiders. His offensive spells generate enough light in the corridor to let him keep moving forward without breaking a leg on something. He can already see better anyway, having gotten used to the darkness. His eyes focus on movement in the shadows rather than details and he's able to pick off darklings easily, much easier than when he'd started.

A thought crosses his mind that the more he kills here, the fewer will be crawling up to where Alexander is and then into the city. Against his better sense, Magnus no longer goes straight to where the stairs should be logically located, but instead pokes his head into the smaller rooms on his way from the large warehouse hall. Most of the rooms are empty but he does find small beginnings of nests in two of them. Glad to notice it's becoming trivial for him to get rid of those things, Magnus burns down the nests while fending off attacks from some agitated creature guarding them. He can see them running around at the edges of his vision even in the dark so he targets them and their burning remains light up the corners of the room.

Nothing exciting happens after that, which is a good thing because it allows him to find his way to the stairs. Alexander is at the top of them, apparently having decided to find them on his end and wait for Magnus there. Magnus grins up at him.

"See, there was no need for you to get dusty down there. I think I cleared the space enough so we can move on."

Alexander seems fine, too, unharmed. He is staring at Magnus oddly, however, so Magnus looks himself up and down to make sure he's not covered in anything gross. He doesn't see anything out of the ordinary and the cuts he got on his skin are not large enough to get his own blood on his clothes, so that can't be worrying Alexander either.

When Magnus closes the distance between them, joining him at the top of the stairs, the Nephilim frowns more. He raises his arm but stops himself, reconsidering.

"Your eyes…" he says, confusing Magnus even more when he resumes the movement of his arm and his fingertips touch Magnus's face, tilting his chin up slightly.

Standing still, Magnus remains confused. Nothing had gotten into his eyes, they feel fine. More than fine, even, after his trip in the dark and flashing fire. He can see everything perfectly clearly. Especially Alexander's lovely – if dirty with accidental streaks of dust and grime – face.

"You have cat eyes."

Magnus blinks. "Excuse me?"

For once in his life, he doesn't know what to do in a situation where a pretty man is staring into his eyes. Alexander's fingers are warm on his face and his touch isn't demanding. If he wanted to, Magnus could just step back and away. He doesn't want to.

"Your eyes changed," Alexander clarifies. "I don't recall seeing a demon with ones quite like this before. But maybe you have."

There are no mirrors or even a polished piece of metal for Magnus to use as a mirror but when his brain catches up, he takes out his phone. Alexander lets go of him and takes half a step back while Magnus opens the camera app and chooses the front camera.

It's true. The eyes blinking back at him from his face are not his. Well, not the usual eyes he has, at least. These are yellow, or rather an unnatural golden hue, with pitch-black irises in the shape of narrow slits. He understands now why Alexander's first thought was a cat, though Magnus can think of snakes, too. He will have to think on it later to try and find an association with one of the demonic kinds.

He snaps a few selfies for himself but while he does it, between one blink and the next, the new form fades, as if it was projected over his normal eyes and his appearance is the usual again.

Alexander makes a thoughtful sound, which reminds Magnus of his presence.

"Huh," he says. "That was something, wasn't it?"

"You didn't feel them change?"

"No, I didn't. I didn't feel them disappear, either, just now."

"Then we won't know for certain what made them manifest."

"Hm, no."

Magnus thinks back to his short travel through the lower level. Nothing really happened there, did it? He'd simply been focusing on getting through and back to Alexander.

But there is something… He looks around them, at Alexander and then down at himself. There is something that changed, he thinks. Now, colors of his clothes and the dim, yellow-orange light from the outside lamp seem more vibrant than when they were when he got back to Alexander. Shadows, in turn, are darker and more impenetrable than they'd been to him downstairs.

He shares his observation with Alexander and it's not hard for them both to draw the conclusion that most likely, the circumstances and Magnus's need of having an advantage made his hidden senses manifest. In this case, it was a need for better vision.

As they make their way outside, Magnus thinks it was anticlimactic, which is very not like him, considering he does a lot of things to be noticed. He likes being showy, even just in the most mundane ways, so acquiring a Mark in some sort of dramatic reveal would have been more fitting.

Admittedly, he'd been slightly anxious about his unknown mark because he was aware they could be some very strange things, from reptile tails to fur in odd places but his is… well, it feels private. Now, only he and Alexander know of it, and Magnus realizes slowly that he rather likes it that way. He feels no desire to run to his demon friends and acquaintances who already have their marks revealed to brag about his.

"Well," he speaks up to break the silence that's fallen between them. "What do you think?"

Alexander looks at him, then back at the sidewalk they're on. "Of your mark? I'm glad you've found it."

It's not what Magnus asked and Alexander must know it, too, because he does continue with his thoughts without being prompted further by Magnus.

"They're pretty. You shouldn't be ashamed of them."

"Oh. I wasn't."

"Good. That's good."

Magnus smiles to himself. Alexander is walking ahead, pointedly focusing his gaze on the street and the sidewalk, anywhere but on Magnus.

"Thank you, Alexander, that's very nice of you to say," Magnus says softly.

The Nephilim clears his throat and then speaks with a tad more confidence. "I know some are. Ashamed. It's not something I can relate to, but I can understand it."

'You're full of surprises, aren't you?' Magnus thinks to himself. While Nephilim aren't exactly assholes, they do tend to be uppity in relations with mundanes and demons and they don't pretend they don't think themselves better. They have no impurities that come from being of demon blood or even just a mundane so for some of them, it comes easy to be judgmental of others.

And for sure, Alexander is judgmental, but so far he's been that about Magnus's work ethic and willingness to run around the city getting dirty and tired, not about his status.

The rest of the walk, with Alexander making sure Magnus returned home, is spent in silence that's comfortable.

When they're supposed to part ways, Magnus begins conversationally: "So, it took two days for the first item on the list. It's not bad, is it? Especially for something I hadn't managed to do on my own my whole life. We'll get this done on time, I think."

"I don't believe there is a timeline for us to adhere to," Alexander says neutrally.

"I don't believe so either, but that's for the demonic side of things. Be honest, Alexander, your Nephilim bureaucracy surely gave you a specific time for this project."

"You're not wrong," Alexander admits, "but if I were you, I'd focus on the goal, not the timeline. If we run behind the schedule, I will let you know."

"You mean you'll frown and complain about my lack of serious approach to the task?" Magnus teases with a smile.

"Probably, yes."

"Then what about the next one?" Magnus asks. "What's the plan?"

"I think we already started on it yesterday."

Magnus's eyes widen. "And you didn't think to say that yesterday? To raise my spirits, if nothing else?"

"I didn't want you to grow overconfident," comes the easy reply.

Magnus gasps, clutching at his chest. "Is that sarcasm I hear in your voice? I didn't know you could be so cruel, Alexander."

A small smile graces Nephilim's lips. "I didn't think it would have helped your progress in any way."

"All right now, share with the class."

Magnus waits patiently while Alexander gathers his thoughts into a reply.

"Offensive magic comes easily to you," he begins. "You complain about anything and everything, from an aching toe to a hair out of place, but never about your magic being exhausted or running out. Your aim with fire is impeccable, which is impressive, considering the nature of fire, be it magical or mundane one. There was no change in your fighting from one day to the next and I'd go so far as to say you were better today."

Magnus is staring at him, rendered speechless for once.

"I noticed you don't go overboard with the spells," Alexander continues, not noticing Magnus's staring. "You use exactly what is needed to be sure to kill the demonlings and darklings alike. That's good, so you preserve energy for later, should you need to use it for an extended period of time."

Magnus has to force himself to keep his hands in his pockets faking a casual pose because what he's feeling right now is an urge to grab the stupid Nephilim and kiss him, and he can't do that.

"You know how to make a man blush, Alexander," he says instead, and it almost comes out neutral in tone. Magnus winces at the way his voice cracks a bit there.

Unsurprisingly, there's no reply addressing Magnus's words specifically and all Alexander says after that is to wish Magnus a good rest. Still under his spell, Magnus replies "You too, Alexander," and that is that.

* * *

When Magnus's favorite assistant shows up on time as usual on that day, their third meeting, it is for a change Magnus who does a double take at the sight of him.

Alexander is wearing a leather jacket showing a bit of his forearms and then black fingerless gloves. The whole of him screams Nephilim business look. It is a wonder how his kind manages to own actually attractive and practical cargo pants, which used to be a bane on casual mundane fashion not so long ago. In summary, Magnus is forced to find a wholly colorless outfit attractive and it's just another item on the list of things that Alexander does infuriatingly well.

It's ironic, too, that Magnus had meant to surprise him (by being ready on time) today, not the other way around. Of course, Alexander's delicious outfit does not negate Magnus's own but he still thinks he got one-upped there.

"Are you ready?" Alexander asks, making Magnus deeply regret that it's not a date because he has so far been filling all the checkmarks needed for a successful outing with a date.

Magnus nods, truly ready to leave, and after he locks his apartment, they go out into the street. Directly in front of the building's entrance stands a motorcycle, to which Alexander directs his step next.

Magnus blinks. He must be dreaming still. Is Alexander showing up looking like a dream and planning to take Magnus on a ride? Be still his beating heart.

So what he says out loud is this: "I thought you Nephilim-kind drove Priuses, to be honest."

Alexander looks back at him. "I don't need a whole car. There's nothing we need to be transported and bikes get us in tight spots, including parking," he finishes with his best matter-of-factly tone.

"Huh. That does make sense," Magnus says. "It's lucky then that a bike fits two, I suppose."

Alexander nods. "I ride with my sister sometimes. She has her own, but when it's practical…"

Magnus's brain is delighted at this tidbit of private information shared. So Alexander has at least one sibling and they might be close. Having enough self-preservation instincts, Magnus doesn't ask if she's as pretty as her brother is.

Predictably, Alexander doesn't elaborate on his family of his own accord and Magnus decides not to pry immediately. He takes the offered, black helmet, secures it on his head and with much delight takes the passenger spot behind Alexander on the bike. He doesn't even complain about the lack of a heads-up, so he could have dressed more appropriately.

As expected, the distance they ride is farther than they've ever walked before but then it's also farther than Magnus expected from the bike trip. They leave the city and Magnus starts growing confused. Not just about the distance but more about Alexander's lack of explanation beforehand or a little warning ahead of time. While holding onto the (very fit) Nephilim was a treat in itself, they're going out for Magnus's quests and it starts to worry him a little.

They stop in the middle of nowhere. There's nothing there, just plants, the road and electric poles. No incoming cars light up the road. The air is fresher there, even if it can't exactly be called country air.

"That's the opposite of a night out in town that I expected us to enjoy," Magnus quips, handing over his helmet when Alexander puts out his hand for it.

He has the nerve to nod seriously. "We're here to work on the next point." And then he continues on, even though Magnus did not ask for details. "I've been thinking about filling the requirement. Your magic responds to your needs, so it might work to trick it into doing something more complicated."

Magnus blinks at him, not sure if there was a compliment in there or the opposite.

"I've gone through what records we have on magic travel and I wondered about the possibility of you managing it."

"Magic travel?" Magnus repeats like an echo, surprised by the very idea. There's been talk about it and some individuals claim to have managed it, but Magnus never had done it himself. It would be incredibly convenient to be able to transport oneself from place to place, even between the continents as the unconfirmed rumors say, but the thing is, mastering that requires work. A lot of magical theory and practice, which Magnus has never had any interest in pursuing. He's no demon or witch scholar and he's always been content with his money getting him to different places fast.

"Why would I do it… tonight, in the middle of nowhere?" Magnus makes a pointed half-turn, gesturing at the emptiness around them.

He's thinking of needing notebooks and others' research and the time to practice what spells might lead up to it…

"With the right incentive, I think you might be capable of much more than you'd expect from yourself," Alexander says.

Magnus chuckles. "Flattery isn't going to work tonight, pretty boy. There's nothing here to entice me into working on something I've never even considered doing before."

"Hence the incentive part," Alexander says and his neutral tone might as well be a threat because Magnus already feels the next part of what he says will be… bad.

"You'll need to start figuring it out if you want to return home in a timely fashion."

"You won't take me home until I've done it?"

"I can't take you home. The bike isn't going anywhere past this point."

"Why on Earth would it not go-"

"The tank's empty."

"Excuse me?"

"It had as much fuel as was needed to come here. Now, if you want to get back soon, you need to create a ticket home."

"You know I'm just going to call a ride back, yes?"

"If you've got any bars out here you may try. But whoever comes here won't see you through the rune magic you've absorbed during the ride with me."

This is not real, Magnus thinks. Not even Alexander could possibly be so devious…

"You've hexed me? To not be visible?"

"Nephilim don't do hexes," Alexander says neutrally. "Invisibility rune is one of the basic ones we use often. Recently we've worked out how to share an effect on others, for a limited period of time." Before Magnus can speak out, he adds: "The limited period is still long enough to make the wait not worth it out here."

"You are the demon, Alexander. I can't believe I trusted you."

Unruffled, the Nephilim shrugs and start walking in the direction they're just arrived from.

Magnus starts following only after a moment because he doesn't want to appear as though he agrees to this.

"What if we're attacked out here?"

Alexander looks back at him over his shoulder.

"Axe murderers can't see us and I'll defend you from demons."

"Is that so? I was expecting you to say something more along the lines of getting more practice."

"I'm not trying to make a fighter out of you. I won't make you do it when unnecessary."

"Oh," Magnus says at first, genuinely surprised but then remembers he was supposed to be mad, so he adds: "how kind of you."

At first, Alexander says nothing to that, but after a while, he begins speaking again. "You like a comfortable life. I thought that given a push, you might do something impressive just to maintain that. Or, at worst, we'll improve your fitness."

"I'll have you know I don't appreciate jokes at my expense," Magnus says, aiming for a firm tone but… somehow, his natural defences and pettiness are rendered completely ineffective in the face of Alexander's dry humor. He simply can't stay mad.

The worst of it is that the Nephilim remains earnest and focused on his 'mission' through all of it so Magnus can't even hate him for being a spiteful ass. Magnus is therefore forced to go through every day wishing he could throttle Alexander as much as he wants to grab him, shake him and then kiss him.

In moments like this, it is not hard to believe that Alexander was in fact sent as a demon tutor, when his beauty goes at odds with his infuriating work ethic and morals opposite to Magnus's.

It is an exercise in patience.

"Your assignment is addressing that, by the way," Alexander continues as if Magnus needs extra explanation. "It requires you to do something more than conjuration and hexes."

"I know divination and illusion as well," Magnus adds pettily.

Alexander nods. "I don't mean to be dismissive of-"

Magnus interrupts his sentence. "But they're not what I need to get this done, I get it."

"For what it's worth, I think your magic is impressive as it is already. If your requirements listed wards, you would have been set, I think."

Wait, what?

"My wards?"

Alexander nods again. He isn't looking at Magnus, focused on the road ahead of them, so he can't see Magnus's baffled expression.

Unaware of it, Alexander continues: "They're pretty solid. It took me longer than usual to pass through the staircase. I had to focus on my peaceful intentions for a good minute before they accepted me."

Finally, he realizes that Magnus stopped walking a step behind him and he stops and turns around.

"I have wards around my apartment?" Magnus asks slowly to make sure there's no misunderstanding.

"Yes? Of course you do. I pass through every time I come to get you but after the first time I'm let through without a problem."

"I never set up any," Magnus admits, deciding to be honest with Alexander instead of pretending he knew of them all along.

"That's… unusual," the other man says. Then, he tilts his head curiously. "Why wouldn't you set them up?"

The answer is simple. "I don't have personal enemies," Magnus says. "I'm not scared of demonlings, burglars or door-to-door pyramid scheme recruiters."

"But you know how to set one up?"

"Yes. It's useful knowledge and one that's paid for well."

"You realize this confirms my theory about your magic doing what you want without you consciously asking it to?"

"I… yes," Magnus has no smart reply to that. He has no smart thoughts about why exactly he's trusting a Nephilim's word just like that, either. He just does.

-

"I hate you," Magnus mumbles half an hour into their walk.

"I don't have any negative feelings towards you," Alexander replies easily.

Magnus groans.

-

Magnus wishes it were that easy to get this task done. As they walk in silence, he tries to think of a way to at least start touching on magical travel practice. At first, he's trying to recall all that he's heard of it in rumors and anecdotes, and it isn't much. No one really treated it seriously because too few witches and demons managed to do it (or lied about it).

There's only one stable way of crossing worlds and that has to do with the mundane and demonic realms and the specific portal between them, but that's not what magical travel is and not what Alexander meant.

Thinking of Alexander, Magnus tries to see the problem as the Nephilim presented it. If Magnus could do it just because he needed it… But is an uncomfortable walk home enough? It kind of starts to feel that way, to be honest, but it isn't getting anything sparking in Magnus's brain.

He's longing for his armchair but it's not enough to picture it and imagine himself crossing from the empty road they're on into his living room.

He also tries imagining something simpler, like moving to a closer spot he's familiar with in the city instead of going all the way straight home. It's all useless.

Magnus appreciates the optimism Alexander expressed by planning today's exercise but honestly, it was too naïve.

What makes things worse is that Magnus would have to be exceptionally bad at noticing things to miss the way Alexander is cradling his right hand from time to time, rubbing at it. Although he's itching to mention it, Magnus doesn't think he'd get any answer other than 'it's fine'. He must have gotten that hand injured sometime between their last and current meetings because Magnus is pretty sure he'd have noticed if it was after their darkling hunt.

Even with his most recent deception, Magnus wouldn't suspect Alexander of faking discomfort to get him to do this. Especially not after their last conversation.

So Magnus keeps trying.

There is a moment when something is tingling at the back of his mind, something playing tricks at the edge of his vision. He knows it's just wishful thinking, imagining things that might fit his personal idea of a portal to a different place.

Magnus shakes it off and addresses Alexander who's walking next to him. "You know the known cases of travel were solitary, yes? No one so far claimed to have transported more than themselves at a time?"

"Yes. And that's what I wanted, for you to get home. I would have gotten to mine on my own."

Magnus makes a pained face. "Now I've lost all will to try. You realize that, right?"

Alexander shrugs. "I thought you'd have been irritated enough to not worry about it."

"I was irritated enough, in the beginning. Now, I'm not."

"All right," Alexander says and Magnus once again feels the return of the irritation. Worst kind of an irritation, too. A fond one.

"All right?"

"Yeah, we can drop this for tonight," he says and Magnus isn't sure he even likes that answer anymore. He can't tell if Alexander is being realistic or if he's feeling unwell enough to give up. Magnus knows the hand is still bothering him though he hasn't voiced it so far, and now he can't help but wonder if there are other issues Alexander is good at hiding.

"Look," Magnus says, "I can keep trying. You had a good idea and I don't want to have this night be a waste of time."

"I don't think it was a waste if you tried making it work. I know this is complicated. Especially from my point of view, as someone who can't do anything like it at all."

For a moment, silence falls between them because there isn't really anything to say to that. Eventually, Magnus speaks.

"Since we're having a sweet heart-to-heart, I think angelic rune magic is impressive, too. It has some uses we can't replicate with spells. Although I have less than a warm feeling about it now that it's been used against my person."

"I'll undo the invisibility after I get us a ride," Alexander replies, hearing the implication for what it was.

"Are you going to call your Nephilim friends?"

"No, they're busy. Just a cab."

"What about the bike?"

"It'll be picked up."

It is a bit of a wait for the nearest available one to reach them and Magnus almost regrets that it was too fast. He makes a firm decision to somehow get Alexander to spend time with him casually like this in better circumstances, in the comfort of a building, with food and drink.

For now, though, he's still mindful of Alexander's hidden injury and the fact they've ready spent a long time outside, walking. They both should go home, Alexander to rest and Magnus to think over magic travel so he'll have something to impress Alexander with the next time they meet.

* * *

Alec doesn't show up at the regular interval he always did but they had no set hour, as on previous days. It's fine with Magnus if Alexander is running late or was otherwise stopped by work. Everyone deserves a day off, even an unplanned one, and someone like Alexander definitely does. It's made even more understandable when a fire message finds Magnus within the next hour, bringing him short but to-the-point information that Alexander wasn't going to be able to come.

Magnus hopes that he at least had enough time before the crisis to get his hand healed.

With the unexpected free time on his hands, Magnus finds himself being drawn to what he would have scoffed at before: homework. Magic travel and demon marks fill most of his time but he tries touching on other points on the list.

After filling pages with notes and his head with ideas and knowledge, Magnus ends up going to bed at a reasonable hour, which means it's still late, but this time due to his own actions and reading, not Alexander's pushing.

He wakes up quite rested and ready to have coffee and something to eat before planning the rest of his day, counting on Alexander's presence this evening.

All of his plans are thrown out the window the moment he gets a new message, this time not from his favorite Nephilim. It's a piece of gossip information between the demon circle members, mentioning an incident at the local Institute. Magnus's heart skips a beat, and he forgoes using a fire message in favor of just making a call. He needs information quickly, and for it to be as clear as possible.

He picks one friend he considers mostly reliable, but he doesn't have any information about it. In fact, Magnus surprises him with it. He does direct Magnus to Elias, however, and it probably is a good idea indeed. Elias is one of the younger demon-born and he's involved in many circles in New York just because he's friendly and objectively unproblematic. (Magnus used to be that, too, up until about thirty years ago, until the birthday party of Azazel. To be honest, Magnus strongly suspects Azazel might have been one of the names behind his letter's delay).

From Elias, Magnus learns that some witches were called to assist the Nephilim in the aftermath of an attack on their home. That is all Magnus needs to know before he's dressing hurriedly and almost running outside to the cab he called for himself.

The placement of the Institute is common knowledge among those of supernatural blood and Magnus has been inside it before several times. It's the hub for Nephilim business but also culture and Magnus specifically remembers a New Year's party they'd organized a couple of years back, open to demon-born, witches and werewolves. Even the vampires could attend.

It'd been as stuffy as one could expect from the Nephilim, even their decorations, though tasteful, screamed 'uppity'. On the upside, Magnus did appreciate their Swedish table, as well as the contacts he'd made that night with some witches.

He doesn't recall seeing Alexander there because there's no way he'd have overlooked him even in the crowd. Somehow, the thought of not having crossed paths with him before makes Magnus more desperate to make sure they'll have the time to make up for it in the future. Alexander should have asked him for help, Magnus thinks. If things were that bad with whatever missions the Nephilim had and the attack, Magnus should have been there to at the very least use that offensive magic Alexander had praised.

Nephilim love networking and acquiring beings with powers to aid them for favors or for money (which was one of the reasons they bothered to throw the occasional open party), so it would have made perfect sense to get Magnus on the roster, so to speak.

But then, it also makes perfect sense that Alexander wouldn't have even mentioned that possibility until their current professional relationship was concluded. After all, if they failed, Magnus would have every right to be mad at the Nephilim in general and Alexander specifically.

Of course, there's no way he could be mad, regardless of his success or lack thereof. All Magnus feels in that moment, while travelling to the Institute, is the worry for Alexander specifically and concern for the local Nephilim in general.

There's been no contact from the man so far and Magnus feels as though they are close enough by now for a follow-up message to the last one, either to confirm he'll be free or to postpone their meetings further.

The Institute lies in the underground levels of the Museum of History of Religion and the Occult. Magnus knows how to enter it without drawing mundane attention to the trespassing, so he does so, hoping he won't be turned away. He's no witch and he can't help by healing, which is probably the most needed skill at the moment. He could definitely help with warding, though. He hasn't done it for this Institute, but he had assisted his old mentor of sorts back in London, setting up some segments of the wards there. It was where he'd learned doing it as commission work.

Behind the inner door, which is one of the barriers from the mundane world, he's stopped by a Nephilim on guard and asked about his business there, as they had no time for visits, scheduled or otherwise. With his best confident voice, Magnus announces he's there to help witches help the Nephilim, and to please direct him to where they were.

He's asked his name, city of residence and supernatural occupation, and then considered worthy of being allowed to stay inside.

He ends up in the infirmary first, which is what he wanted. However, even a quick look through the room tells him his Nephilim isn't there. It can be a good thing, or it can be a very bad thing. Before he can move on to ask someone about Alexander, he's addressed by one of the witches present in the infirmary. Magnus thinks he recognizes her by face, though he can't remember if they passed by each other during one of the yearly coven events or someplace else. Maybe even at the Institute party.

She tells him in a tone that expects no arguments that he needs to get to work or get out of the room, because he's in the way of the busy people. At first, he means to get out of the way but then reconsiders.

"Tell me how to heal," he says. There are injured Nephilim there and Magnus doesn't know yet where Alexander is; if he might be in similarly bad shape in another room or still somewhere out in the city. Or assuming he's still fine, he might need healing shortly, if the Nephilim are at that moment pursuing their attackers.

The witch eyes him with suspicion and a little confusion, so he adds: "I came here to find my friend. If I can't help him directly, I want to do something for his people."

"And you want to learn to heal right now? Have you even ever done it?"

"No."

Her expression is the epitome of scepticism and Magnus gets it. She's not wrong to think it's strange, because he might as well show up to a physicist and ask to be taught nuclear fusion. Healing is a fine art of magic and requires a lot of effort, talent and practice, none of which Magnus has on his side.

What he has is the determination to help and the memory of Alexander expressing his faith in the nature of his magic. Right now, Magnus's intent to help is strong and with luck, it might just be enough.

The witch relents. She tells him her name is Catarina and that she's willing to try and help him learn. It turns out she is part of the New York coven, as Magnus thought, and that she holds a mundane job at a hospital. Magnus supposes there's no one better qualified to talk of healing, then.

As a demon-born person, Magnus has the advantage of being better attuned to magical forces than others, including Nephilim and witches. What he can do is focus and follow the flow of magic when Catarina casts her spell on one of the patients. At first, Magnus just… listens to it, for lack of a better word. It's warm, it's focused, it's benevolent.

Catarina is talking to him about healing magic and Magnus is filtering out what won't help him and focusing on what might just direct him on the right path.

Before he can begin his own attempt, Catarina is called away to new patients (none of which are Alexander), so Magnus decides to try on his own. The good thing about this sort of magic is that his failure can't do anything worse. Failure is just a total lack of any effect, just as his magic travel attempts had failed.

Magnus puts his hand on the unconscious Nephilim whose bed he's sitting by and closes his eyes. He's trying to replicate the emotions of comfort, the benevolent intent, the warmth of the magic flowing out of him and into another person. He imagines being helpful, he imagines being able to help those he cares the most about in this way.

He tunes out the noises of the room and calls his magic for help, to work with him as it's always done in every other situation.

And then, it flows.

Magnus doesn't know if it's five minutes or half an hour later when Catarina touches his shoulder, and he slowly snaps out of his almost-trance.

"Don't overdo it," she says gently. She nods towards the patient. "You've helped, congratulations."

Magnus blinks, then refocuses on reality. A small smile curves his lips. He's done it. He can't heal a whole person, but he can see the difference he's just made in the jagged cuts from claws on the visible parts of the skin of the Nephilim.

Taking a deep breath, he gives himself time to recover a bit. Trying to stay and heal people here would have just exhausted him much faster than the experienced witches and he still has Alexander to find. He can't stay here, doing this. It might be selfish and it might be short-sighted, but Magnus has to get his Nephilim back, from wherever he is.

There is a thought at the back of his mind that he might be perfectly fine and a room or two away from Magnus, working on plans with other Nephilim but… Magnus's gut is telling him otherwise and Magnus has never doubted his gut.

He ends up getting the needed information when he starts asking about Alexander and one woman with of a striking beauty takes interest in his questions.

"What do you want with Alec," she asks and at the same moment Magnus is opening his mouth to answer, she quickly speaks again: "Are you Magnus?"

"I- yes, that is me. I had a message yesterday from Alexander and no information today, except about the attack. I came to see if I could-"

Magnus can see she's stressed and probably tired. Looking beyond that, at her features and the dark hair, the facts he knows click together in his head.

"Are you Alexander's sister?" He should have asked him about her name back on that night, Magnus chastises himself in his head. Then at least he could have addressed her with that instead of the 'sister'.

"He's mentioned me?" it comes out surprised.

"Well, very briefly. I barely learned anything about him beyond that."

"Right. To make it fair, he mentioned you briefly, too."

Magnus should be asking the more pressing questions but he can't resist making this slightly awkward conversation a little longer. "Was it mostly complaining?"

She smiles, but it comes out tired. Or strained.

"I won't lie," she says. "He did complain a lot. But he has to like you well enough to want to fulfil the job."

"That's the impression I got, too," Magnus says softly.

"I'm Isabelle," she reaches her hand out and he takes it to shake it.

"Magnus Bane, but you guessed that. So where is he?" Magnus finally asks, because it's high time he got the truth, whatever it is.

"I don't know," she admits. "He's been considered missing, along with some others, since late last night."

The unease in Magnus's gut is slowly changing into dread.

"And you're looking for him?"

"Obviously. There are multiple teams out there at this minute and one just returned to bring back the injured and some information."

Magnus assumes she did just come back herself and something tells him she'll be heading back out soon. Her body language screams weariness and stress, but her eyes are sharp.

"I've come to help," Magnus says. "I can help search."

She gives him a considering look. "Can you do tracking?"

"Yes, of course."

"Good," she nods, and Magnus is happy to see a new determination making her stand a little straighter, a little stronger now.

He's led to one of the Nephilim offices, probably used for team briefings. He's told to wait there and within a few minutes, Isabelle is back with a few personal items, including a jacket, which can be used for magical tracking.

"Do you want to be left alone?" she asks him after depositing the items on one of the nearby desks.

"I don't need to be alone to track but it might be better for me to focus, especially when the time counts."

"All right," she says. "I have things that require my attention elsewhere, anyway. You can come out and find me or I'll be back here eventually, if it gives you trouble. You've probably guessed you're not the first person we've asked to help us find him."

"Yes, I did assume that. I know Nephilim have their own tracking magic, too."

"Yes, it didn't help us. The images were too vague and blurred to draw any hints from."

Magnus nods in understanding. "Then I will do my best to give you something."

"Please do," she says quietly, before turning and leaving him alone.

Tracking is just one of the easily sellable services he does for others from time to time, so he's not a novice at it. Hopefully, magic from a demonic source can get him better results than rune magic had given the Nephilim.

Picking up the jacket first, Magnus calls the spell to the front of his mind and then directs his magic to the task.

What he gets is… unsatisfactory. The images turn out to be as Isabelle said: too vague. Even on multiple tries, Magnus can't force his way through to something more solid.

He keeps trying.

The breakthrough is a flash of an image that Magnus realizes is Alexander himself. Or his body. The surprise of getting something new makes the tracking waver but Magnus collects himself and holds onto what he just got.

The more he tries, the more he understands he won't be able to tell at all where Alexander is or confirm if he's even still alive.

Still pushing on, Magnus understands that there is a locked room with no furniture nor windows in it and that no one and nothing is in there with the Nephilim.

There is no way for Magnus to leave the room through a tracking spell when he's already found the object the spell is for. But this is all he has to hold onto to get Alexander back and if he could just help him-

Magnus blinks out of existence in the Institute room and reappears somewhere completely different.

He falls to his knees onto the hard ground when his legs prove too shaky to hold him up even though they were just fine a second ago. The odd light fades from around him and the dizziness passes.

Magnus pushes himself up to stand in the very room he's just been trying to spy on.

With a gasp, he rushes forward to where his Nephilim lies unmoving. Gently, Magnus turns him from his side onto his back to be able to see more of his body and possible injuries.

Even without touching his skin, Magnus can see the obvious signs of a cold fever, a common symptom for demonling venom poisonings or deathly curses. Alexander's cheeks have an unhealthy flush on them while the rest of him is shivering and his skin is too cool for his kind. Nephilim always run hot.

There is a nasty, already worsening bite on Alexander's left forearm and now dried blood covers his hand and the edge of his sleeve. If it was made the previous night, then a lot of time has been wasted on the search and none put towards healing. It's not good. Magnus is no healer but he's had enough education about magical afflictions and demonling attacks, including venom, poison and bites. He knows when it's too late and it's not too late for Alexander yet.

If Magnus can get him to a witch or a Nephilim who will put runes on him.

"Alexander," Magnus whispers, touching the Nephilim's face. "I've got you now. Come on. I need you up and all frowny over the rest of my list."

While he speaks, in a low voice in case someone might hear him, he runs his other hand over Alexander's body, sending out his magic. He's trying to replicate what he's done back at the Institute, but a poisoned, infected bite is a serious problem. If Alexander had been cut or shot, Magnus could have tried to brute-force his way through healing just to close the wound. When it's like this, he can't and should not attempt healing the bite. He sorely wishes he could, though.

When all this is over and his tasks are finished or abandoned, Magnus makes a strong resolution to learn proper healing. He doesn't ever again want to feel this helpless.

What he can try to do is to push enough magic into the Nephilim's body to return him to consciousness. Then, they might be able to figure out a way to get help or find another solution.

Looking at the angry wounds on Alexander's arm, it's a true exercise in patience to ignore it. It hurts Magnus to look at them and his magic buzzes under his skin, influenced by his emotions. Even weakened by his previous healing attempts and the unexpected teleporting trick, it still feels ready to do more.

Magnus can't let them be found out by spending too much time in this unknown room so he has to come up with a plan of what to do next. He's too afraid to try to open the door and draw attention to the fact that there is an extra occupant there, who's awake and causing trouble.

Without knowing where they are, there's no point sending out fire messages or planning an escape. He couldn't carry Alexander out, anyway, and though he keeps trying to pour his magic into him with his best healing intent, he can't seem to get him to rouse.

There is only one way out for them.

It is said that travel magic only works for the one who performs it, but Magnus has no choice here. Either he gets Alexander out of there with him, or he stays. He won't be parted from him when it could mean Alexander's life or death.

With the problem put like this, it is easier than ever for Magnus to have a clear intention for his magic and to specify his need.

He holds onto Alexander's form as best as he can and calls all his magic to action…

Magnus can't remember anything after that.

He is later told that he appeared in a flash of light and a spinning oval of pure magical energy, crossing from thin air into the room he'd disappeared from. Isabelle hadn't returned by then to witness it herself, but the Institute camera from the set installed in the briefing offices had caught it to record Magnus's greatest achievement so far.

In the recorded video, he's bowed over still unconscious Nephilim, lowering his head back to the ground gently. Then, he leaves the room and the sight of the camera, presumably to call someone to help.

Magnus is also told that before a few Nephilim reacted to his call (as well as the spike of magic inside the Institute), he's fallen himself, completely unresponsive.

The next thing that he knows from his own memories is waking up in the same infirmary he'd seen before. Catarina is there, not actively attending to him, but she comes over as soon as she notices his eyes are open and he tries to speak. She is relieved and smiling, and it eases something inside of Magnus. He can't have failed if she's looking like this, right? The smile doesn't seem forced to him.

"Stay as you are," she says, touching his shoulder to push him back down. She also uses the touch to send her magic into him and it makes him gasp. Normally, it should have had no effect like this on him but the foreign magic makes him more aware suddenly of how empty he feels of his own.

It's there, of course, as there's no way to part a magic user from their powers and there's no such thing as literally running out of all magic, but he's uncomfortably depleted.

"You've been the talk of the Institute while you were out," she says.

"And how long was it?"

"Just a few hours. You haven't lost much, mostly the flurry of activity after you've returned the precious leader to the Nephilim here."

Magnus blinks, slowly. "Alexander?"

"Yes. The Lightwoods are running the things here. I'd have thought you should know this."

"I guess I stopped tracking all their fancy names at Truebloods…"

"That's their mother's maiden name so you weren't too far in the past. I think Isabelle should be by soon. She's been checking on you, whenever she isn't with her brothers."

There's more of them, Magnus thinks but doesn't ask the witch for details. He probably couldn't memorize anything anyway, what with the way the inside of his head and his thoughts feels more like a  huge cotton ball than a productive brain. He finds that he can't even form questions anymore, so he finds out nothing about how he got here or where Alexander is.

He doesn't even know when he falls asleep again, with Catarina still at his bedside. At least this time, it's just normal sleep.

When he wakes again, he's feeling like a whole new person instead of a deflated balloon. His magic is thrumming under his skin the same way it'd done that second day after the first hunt with Alexander.

Magnus is very hungry but very pleased that he can get up and walk around. He gets as far as the water bottles on the table in the infirmary before someone appears at the main entrance and clears their throat.

It's Alexander himself, up and about, his gaze locked on Magnus. He is a vision (a pale, tired vision) and Magnus doesn't ever want to look away. Alexander closes the distance between them and when he stops in front of Magnus, he has a small smile on his face.

"I was going to lead in with a 'thank you' but I thought 'I told you so' will be more fitting," he says, and Magnus can't stop the no doubt goofy grin on his own face.

"You were right," he says. "I only wish you had not put yourself in literally mortal danger to get me to do things."

"Ah, yes." Alexander looks to the floor, then back at Magnus. "I have already been properly chastised by my siblings so you are free to save repeating it. And you should know I'd much rather have spent that night with you, than on the mission we had."

"You'd have?" Magnus asks.

"Yes. Especially considering that now there's no need for us to make up for it," his words confuse Magnus. To make it worse, Alexander steps away from him and goes to one of the desks that the medical staff use and picks up a paper from it. Bringing it back to Magnus, he says simply: "Congratulations. You're all done, a resounding success."

Baffled, Magnus takes the offered paper to see that it is his list, or rather the copy Alexander had used.

What it says is this:

1. Find the genetic gift
2. Specify the talent
3. Utilize magical travel
4. Sacrifice in selflessness
5. Pursue development past the limit of comfort

Magnus stares at the letters, uncomprehending the meaning of the whole thing, though he understands individual words. What is this…? Each point has Alexander's notes next to it, specifying ideas and progress in short sentences and neat, small script. Each point has a cheerful tick drawn next to it.

Unable to express his confusion in words, Magnus focuses a bit to summon from his apartment his own letter, from where he'd left it on the coffee table. It comes to him in a snap and he unfolds it, his heart beginning to pound when he sees that the demonic burn writing had created long lines crossing through the list.

Below it, a text appeared to say 'Accepted' and nothing more.

When Magnus glances up from the two papers, he finds Alexander gazing at him with something like hope in his eyes. "Well, is it confirmed?" he asks.

"Yes… I- Yes, the letter says it's completed," Magnus finally manages to say. He folds his original letter before Alexander can start reading it upside-down.

"Good," Alexander nods. "I'm glad. It's all gone differently than I've planned-"

Magnus puts a finger up to his lips to silence him. "No. It's gone exactly as you planned. Everything I've done was thanks to your ideas. Thank you, Alexander, I owe you for this."

"You really don't," the other man says after putting his hand on Magnus's and moving it down. "It was my job and then you saved my life. If anyone owes you, it's me and the Institute."

Magnus doesn't think he can't take much more of Alexander being sweet and the most annoyingly charming person Magnus has ever known. He also can't think while he hasn't let go of his hand. He's no longer cold from the sickness, he's wonderfully warm...

"I didn't do it for the Institute," Magnus says firmly. And then, finding the bold words inside him, he continues: "if you owe me, I have a request. I will need someone to supervise my experiments with the portal travel. You've talked many big words about your kind being qualified for pretty much anything in the supernatural world, so it's only fair I request Nephilim assistance for this."

"I will put in a request as you wish," Alexander replies but Magnus already knows him too well to take the words for anything but a tease.

"I've been told by a little bird that the strings to pull around here are held by your hand, pretty boy, so I'd better have a confirmation fire message before I get home and go into the shower, which by the way I dearly need."

"I will put in a request for a prompt answer," comes the reply and that is how Alexander wins in getting the last word in because Magnus's next idea of action is to grab him and kiss him. But he can wait. He hasn't even left yet but Magnus is already thinking ahead to the next time they see each other.