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There’s nothing to be ashamed of.
He knows that, logically. Just like he knows, logically, that no one would have even though twice about Jace being the person he loves most if Alec himself hadn’t reacted so tellingly- they’re family, they’re parabatai; closer than brothers, hearts beating as one, of course Alec loves him. And yet.
Logic doesn’t help in the face of his panic. It doesn’t slow his heart or even his breathing or still his hands when Jace appears in the swirling smoke, when all he can think is no, no, no they can’t find out, not now not yet notlikethis.
Logic doesn’t help when he breaks the bond, when he loses focus and the demon gets ahold of Jace and Clary destroys their only chance to get her memories back. It doesn’t help when Jace isn’t moving.
Logic doesn’t mean a damn thing when Alec’s too afraid to even touch him.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Magnus says, and of course he’s right.
But that doesn’t stop Alec from burning up, the sharp claws of his panic and fear and shame from scraping at his chest, at the backs of his eyes, at his throat, threatening to slice him open and spill out everything inside of him for all to see.
He manages a response, unsure of what it is or what Magnus’ next words are, and then Izzy is next to him and he can’t, okay, he cannot, not right now.
So he walks away.