A separation is never easy. For none of the parties involved. Sometimes it ends in tears and in a fight, sometimes quietly, silently and with many unspoken words. Either way, nothing about it is pretty or easy. It's hard, burdensome, and countless moments rush past you in a succession of nostalgia-tinged images. The door slams shut, clicks softly, and echoes in the silence of the house. Silence is relative, it's not Hetfield accompanying Jonathan in his pain, but Judas Priest. 'And then we break and explode in pure abandon.' I could puke at so much truth and leave without thinking further.

Indecisively, I stand on the dark sidewalk, feeling the gentle pulsation of deja vu in my chest. It wasn't long ago that I stood equally perplexed on a sidewalk, the lights of the night silent witnesses. Inconceivable things happened, words gushed from our throats, and chasms opened up. I look to the left and then to the right. Where should I go? Jace and Clary? No. Absolutely not. Even though I'm super fond of Clary and there's a bottle of full-bodied red wine waiting to caress my palate, they're still Jonathan's friends and I'm just the appendage. Jace hates me after that performance and in all likelihood, Jonathan is sitting on the cold tile floor in our kitchen right now, surrounded by broken glass and crying.

He will first and foremost call his best friend and theatrically tell him about our fight. That's who he is, that's who they both are. There are no secrets between them and some days, jealousy rages fiery within me. Jace and Jonathan have so much in common and the loss of Alec, has brought them even closer. Like a wall of chunky rock, they have always stood in front of the other, shedding honor, blood and sweat just so their best friend and soul mate doesn't have to suffer. Jace will do anything to take the burden of pain away from Jonathan. And so will Andrew.But what about me? Who will take some of the burden off me, comfortingly hold my hand, and say that everything will be okay? It won't be Jonathan, I don't want to push Clary to the decision against her Man, and Alec.... no, Alec is not an option. Not now, too much has happened and first we need to talk about the past to give each other the support we need. A smile flits across my lips, it's him. With no one else could I better bury my torn soul, bleeding heart and sorrow after this disastrous and disturbing evening.

Spencer Andersson, the giant and longtime partner of my friend from carefree childhood days. A dose of optimistic Spencer with the ice blue eyes and all-forgetful mischievous grin around the corners of his mouth, that's what I need right now. I haven't visited either of them in a while and the guilty conscience, is already scratching painfully over my skin. Fortunately for me, neither Raphael nor Spencer hold any grudges and forgive a slightly longer moment of silence on my part. Both are patient, don't judge hastily, and have gentle, pure souls. They love with all their heart that it almost makes you dizzy.

After the attack and waking up in the hospital, Spencer and Raphael stood next to Ragnor and held each other in their arms, heads turned towards each other, crying silent tears. Both of them blamed themselves for sending me off alone into the night and I could hardly breathe because of the pain, I would have liked to tell them that they were not to blame. My memories of the first days after the coma are slightly blurred. I remember pungent, chemical smells and the annoying beeping of thousands of machines. Nurses with long needles and gentle hands. A voice, familiar and soothing in my head. Even in sleep, I heard her soft whisper, felt the warmth of a spiritual presence, and my heart has rarely been so free. Cotton soft thoughts, evoked peace by substances in my veins. It was fine with me and gave quiet moments before the darkness came and mercilessly fell upon me.

Ragnor was beside himself with rage and could hardly hide how much the worry about his little brother was eating him up. During my involuntary sleep, he hardly left my side and made half the hospital staff dislike him very much. Yet Ragnor is gentle and concerned with harmony. However, the sight of my battered body also released a lot of unpleasant memories. And feelings of guilt. Guilt has been a recurring theme since that night. How I would have liked to spare him this sight. But nothing could have prevented my big brother from leaving Boston head over heels, leaving his wife and children with question marks, and trudging through the hells of bureaucracy. He would have fought his way through hordes of man-devouring zombies and hijacked a helicopter to get to his destination as quickly as possible. The ground could have opened up at his feet, a sinister black hole threatening to swallow everything. Nothing could have stopped Ragnor Bane from saving me. Only that he was not by my side in that decisive moment and self-hatred accompanies him to this day. When I don't check in with him regularly, his otherwise orderly mathematician thoughts run amok and all horror scenarios become reality in his head.

A glance at my phone makes me sigh deeply and for the umpteenth time I hear my conscience hammering loudly against the door to my mind. Ragnor has tried to call me several times and a more than clear message shows that his patience has already exceeded the horizon. He is furious and amused I snort as my fingers dart nimbly across the keypad. Ragnor joins the queue of people who hold a grudge against me. I am not angry with him, no one can understand his fear and the scars on his life muscle heart. He was alone that night, high above the clouds, 305.84 km away from me as the crow flies, with images in his mind beyond our imagination. Ragnor has been my emergency contact since our parents died. The call reached him unprepared, in his sleep, in the middle of the night. Three sixteen, he will never be able to erase that time from his memory, and neither will I.

Magnus
Sorry. I'll come to Maine, of course. But alone. I'll explain later. Don't worry. Everything's fine. Love you. M

I am not surprised that seconds after sending the message, there is a reply from Ragnor.

Ragnor
Are you crazy? I saw that you read my message. Why didn't you get back to me? I was worried about you. And don't tell me everything is fine. If you're writing this, there's nothing wrong at all.

Ragnor is angry. He has every reason to be, and I'm not angry with him.

Magnus
No, it's not that either. He's Rag here. I feel like I'm going to lose my mind at any moment. He's here.

Ragnor
He?

Magnus
Jonathan kicked me out.
Ragnor?Dude!!! Answer me.

Damn it.

Ragnor
HE? Are you sure?

Magnus
Yes.

Ragnor
Shit. Does Jonathan know?

Magnus
Yes.

Ragnor
Magnus!

Magnus
What do you want to hear? It's him. And we've kissed.

Ragnor
Jonathan saw you?

Magnus
Yes. I didn't mean to.

Ragnor
The kiss or Jonathan seeing you?

I don't get to write an answer, Ragnor's face appears on the display and his perma-grin lifts the corners of my mouth. He is always there for me, no matter what fucked up shit is going on in my life. I can count on my big brother. He's my rock, the wall of boulders that protects me from the turmoil of the sea. Most of the time.

"Hi," I greet Ragnor after my thumb has successfully pushed aside the small green field.
"Are you really sure?" asks Ragnor excitedly. No greeting. Sighing, I roll my eyes and sit down on the steps in front of the home I've known until recently. The stone is warm from the heat wave of the city summer, yet a slight shiver hums down my bare arms.
"Yes. I'm sure of it. We talked to each other."
"And kissed each other. You him, or he you?" he asks, and I don't have to think long about whether or what to answer.
"It doesn't matter, does it? We both wanted it." And how we wanted it, wanted us. We needed each other so much in that moment. The darkness of the night protected Alec and me. Not for anything in the world would I have let him take that away from me. His warm lips and the quivering of his tender skin. Grinning, I caress my lower lip with the tip of my thumb, still thinking I can feel the taste of Alec. It's the truth, what I told Jonathan. I don't regret kissing Alec. Not then, and certainly not now. Only I never wanted Jonathan to watch with his own eyes as I kissed another man. Let alone see me desire him so much that the thought of never seeing Alec again pushes all the air out of my lungs and I already feel the pain physically and physically.

"How bad was it?" asks Ragnor, and briefly I consider what he means. Alec? Jonathan? Both of them?
"Seeing Alec was hell. I can't even describe it," I answer honestly.
"Who's Alec?" asks Ragnor, irritated. Oh, there was something. The wrong name.
"Gideon. Alec is Gideon. He gave me the wrong name. Well, actually, he didn't. It's his middle name."
"Okay. I see. I guess. It's really early and shit in two hours my alarm goes off. The kids have exams and I have lots of exams to check. But anyway. Go ahead. Do you mind if I make some coffee? The machine is a little noisy. You know that."
"No. No, it's fine. You can go back to bed too. Really. I'm fine Rag," I say softly with bitter disappointment in my voice. Ragnor snorts and I hear the hiss of hot steam and the gentle splash of coffee hitting the fine china of the cup. What I would give for coffee right now. A lot of things.
"Exactly. Like I can sleep now." He can't and we both know it.

"So. Alex," Ragnor gets back into the volatile topic.
"Alec," I correct him.
"Alexander, actually. That's his name. Alexander Gideon Lightwood. Fuck, I'm so lost." Saddened, I bury a hand in my hair and take several deep breaths in and out. The fresh air does me good, yet I feel deeply hurt and sad.
"You already were, when you stood in front of my door, totally overtired," Ragnor answers and grumbling, I confirm what we both knew long ago. My way led me from London directly to Boston. Not planned, I decided to change my flight at short notice and visit my brother and his family. Ragnor gave me time and on the second evening, after Jonathan had loudly complained on the phone about his frustration with my spontaneous change of travel plans, I told him about Alec and our flirtation. Ragnor wanted to know everything and he asked me to be open and honest with Jonathan. I couldn't, and Ragnor realized that the encounter with Alec had left its mark. He never blamed me, was there for me in dark hours and of course he is now.

"Yes. He was always in my thoughts. And now this disaster. He's Jonathan's ex," I bring Ragnor up to speed.
"Shit," he says with a laugh, and somehow the sound is contagious. A pinch of pressure rolls off my chest, which still feels oppressive over my body.
"You know what? This is better than any Hollywood movie. I'm telling you, Spencer would get a kick out of this," I say, laughing lightly. This is all so absurd. I sit, after a mega argument with tons of broken dishes, on the steps of our apartment and sing my complaint to Ragnor. Totally awesome. Mega grown up.
"Absolutely. Call him and tell him about it." I intended to.
"I will. And lay siege to their couch. I'm homeless and quite honestly, I have no intention of going back to Jonathan either. He was having an affair. Probably," I say, and Ragnor draws in a sharp breath.
"Better than Hollywood. Fuck really? With who?" he asks with interest.
"I don't know. Some guy. Andrew. I don't know him."
"Anyway. What are you going to do now?" I have no idea. Sleep. I want to sleep so badly.

"I don't know. I'm tired," I answer truthfully.
"Hmm," Ragnor grumbles.
"What else?"
"What else? What do you mean? Isn't that enough?", I ask irritated.
"Well, that's not all. What happened? You guys kissed each other. And then what? I guarantee Jonathan didn't do a happy dance." My big brother just knows us too well.
"No," I whisper.
"Magnus, what happened?" he asks, his energetic tone giving me no way out. I have to tell him. Eventually the truth will come out, and I don't want him to find out from anyone but me.
"I had a panic attack. When we left the party and got home, he went nuts. At first it was harmless. He randomly threw clothes in my suitcase and told me to leave. I tried to talk to him, but he was so mad and angry and.... Ragnor," I interrupt my narrative, pressing my fingers to my eyes and swallowing the thick lump in my throat.

"Did he hit you?" he asks, growling.
"No," I answer quietly.
"But I was scared and felt like I did then. Helpless and I went into shock. He pinned me against the wall and from then on I felt like I was suffocating."
"It's okay kid," Ragnor says. The calm gentle tone is meant to reassure me and say he's with me. Even if he isn't. Strangely, his tactic works and, sobbing, I release the tears behind my wall. How pathetic, it flashes through my mind. I sit crying on the steps of the house, behind whose doors pure chaos reigns. But I can no longer suppress it, the burden of the past years, longing for a love, dreariness from everyday life, frustration over ignorance and an accompanying subliminal trauma. Tears run warmly down my cheeks and I am relieved that few if any people are out at this time of day.
"I'm sorry," I say, sniffling.

"No. Never apologize for your tears," Ragnor counters briskly.

"No matter what happened, that kind of behavior doesn't fly, and Jonathan will be lucky if I don't get on the next available plane to New York to kick his ass."
"I told Alec about the robbery and Jonathan heard everything. He's furious. Understandable. I never told him about it and well, now it's out anyway."
"Good thing. Still. No reason Magnus."
"He smashed all our dishes. You should have seen that Ragnor," I say, snorting in amusement.
"Such a shit eh. He was so full of rage and anger. There was no other way for him to go. Without batting an eye he destroyed the picture of Mum Rag," I sob sadly.
"Call Spencer. And meet me in Maine in two days," my brother says. He too is furious at my ex's destructiveness.
"Okay. Will do. And Ragnor, thank you."
"I love you little brother. Please write me when you arrive okay? I don't like to worry about you. But that's the way it is."

"I promise," I end the conversation and try to collect myself. My gaze wanders up to the stars, which are barely visible. The lights of the city illuminate the sky and maybe the first hint of dawn. I'm tired, my vision blurs, and before my body can surrender to soothing rest, I dial Spencer the Giant's number with shaky fingers. The moment of waiting drags miserably like old chewing gum.
"Tell me you just won the lottery," Spencer greets me in a sleep-ridden raspy voice. Even deeper and raspier than it already is.
"I'm afraid not," I mutter, exhausted.

"Magnus?" he asks in alarm. So typical. Ragnor, Spencer, and Raphael. Ever since the mugging, they've been very sensitive about my mood.
"Jonathan kicked me out the door," I say, hearing soft rustling in the background. Raphael's sleepy voice slides through the speaker and I suddenly feel warm.
"Come here. But take a cab, please. There's no way you're taking the subway at this hour."
"Okay," I reply wearily.
"We'll wait for you," Spencer says, and relieved, I stand up, grab my suitcase, and find a cab.