AU requested by kaz2302! Thank you for the idea!

"Untempered adamas will cost you everything you have, plus a little of that Angel blood," the ghost in front of St. Peter's estimated. Alec crossed his arms, frowning, as he looked through the ghost, his mind calculating. 

The front of the church behind her flickering figure seemed to be melting. Pillars had once supported the front of the cathedral, but a few had fallen away, and the roof had fallen with them. Moss and vines grew up the slope, and graffiti recolored all of the bricks accessible from the ground, and even some that weren't.

"And is there any way I could find a stele?"

"You know as well as I do, Alexander Lightwood. All functional Shadowhunter weaponry sits in Idris."

"Someone must be smuggling it out," Alec argued. 

"You have too much faith in the bravery of others," the ghost said. She drifted back for a moment, and then jumped onto a gravestone, balancing on one foot atop it. 

Alec looked back at the church. Maybe he did.

"The adamas, Tatiana?" 

"The last magical store in London is going to be in there." She pointed across the graveyard. Across the torn-up street was a row of shops, their entrances obscured by meandering somber bodies. There was a lit sign, advertising a night club. "If they ask, I didn't send you."

"Who am I looking for?" Alec looked back at Tatiana, but she was gone, replaced by the leaves of an apple tree, floating to the ground. "Tatiana?"

The leaves stirred on the ground in response.

If Tatiana wasn't a Lightwood, Alec wouldn't have trusted her. He didn't trust anyone anymore. He kept his runes covered with gloves, long shirts, and turtlenecks, even in the summer. He moved with the seasons, and he had just arrived in an autumn London, with a stele broken on his fight to get to the Portal he had paid dearly to get. Now he was staying in the basement of St. Peter's, on a bedroll in the driest corner. He supposed mundanes saw the cathedral as nothing but rubble now, but he still saw it's true form, as bittersweet as that form was. It had once been quite the arsenal, since the actual former Institute was far across town, but it had been picked clean by the time Alec found his way to the floorboards below the altar. 

Whoever lead the Endarkened now had done an excellent job of finding all the hidden Nephilim storage spaces around the world and robbing them of everything, so any "rogue" Shadowhunters would be defenseless eventually. What remained in the world was either in Sebastian's hands or on the Downworld black market at an costly price. Alec would give his blood when he could, but that drew so much attention. Family heirlooms linked his face to the Lightwood name, so as much as they would do good, they could do serious harm. Isabelle had taught him that.

When they'd returned to the surface following Edom, the fighting was still going on. The Endarkened hadn't quit like they'd thought. Simon was gone, and the girls were distraught, and no one was at their best. They rushed towards the Accords Hall, Clary intent on checking on the children who probably needed more defense. Alec was hardly in a place to argue, and so they battled through the streets until they met a full faerie platoon, who mercilessly pushed them onto different streets so they were separated.

Alec had ended up on the street by Amatis' house with Isabelle. The faerie knights were ruthless and Alec could only picture Isabelle lying in the streets, her blood mixing with that of the thousands of fallen. And he made a decision. They barricaded themselves inside Amatis', where Isabelle drew one of Clary's new Portal runes on the pantry door, while Alec fired arrows into the street from the second floor.

They had barely made it back to the New York Institute in time. After panicking and discussing their options, they repacked their bags, stocking up on weapons and gear this time. 

Deep inside, Alec had known as he packed steles and seraph blades that he would never return home. The last thing he packed was a picture of the family from years earlier, and the only picture of him and Magnus that he hadn't gotten around to tearing up. 

Then they ran, first to India where they managed to survive in the countryside for a year without discovery or word of Shadowhunter politics. His concern for Jace and the others was an unrelenting and crippling anxiety, which left Isabelle to fend for their survival as he stayed inside throughout the day. He knew Jace was alive-- his bond told him as much. But word from their farming neighbors describe the world as chaos. Global leaders were assassinated almost daily, economies could fail overnight, and a loaf of bread couldn't be purchased for less than $10. Murder and crime skyrocketed as police forces disbanded in favor of protecting their families rather than others. 

For once, the Nephilim that remained could do nothing. 

They knew the Endarkened were behind all of it, but it was who was behind the Endarkened that puzzled the Lightwood siblings so much. Sebastian was dead and gone, but someone had taken his place, and done what Valentine and Sebastian had both failed to do-- destroy the world. 

Alec was conflicted now. There was nothing he could sell to whoever was running the magic shop, if they even had adamas or a stele. Poking his nose around could cost him his life but living without a stele meant he had no runes, which scared him.

He didn't want to sacrifice his runes; he had already lost one. . . 

The sun had set during his conversation with Tatiana, and as Alec looked back at the storefront, he could tell the place was most likely a nightclub, and probably the most exciting thing in London at this hour judging by the rather-large crowd now streaming in. 

Considering what he was wearing was all the clothes he had at the moment, Alec couldn't do anything more exciting. But he unzipped his jacket a little and messed up his hair a little, trying to toss some of it in front of his eyes to make himself harder to recognize. Isabelle had tried to teach him to use more natural ways to glamour himself, rather than the magic itself. 

His last seraph blade was tucked in pocket in his coat, and as he passed the demons guarding the doorway, he instinctual felt for it. Luckily, their attention was focused more on a beautiful woman behind him, and they took no notice of him.

He pushed his way to the bar, where a gorgeous girl, no older than Isabelle would have been, was darting between patrons. 

"What can I get you, sweetheart?" Alec took no notice of the nickname-- she was here for the tips, not the crowd.

"I'm looking for someone in the back," Alec said.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, and it, with all of her hair, morphed from a dyed-black to honey blonde. She was a faerie-- how hadn't he seen that? "Well, in that case, you should probably head towards the back."

She grinned wickedly-- her teeth were sharpened to points.

Alec turned away, but she coughed in expectation. He turned back to see her hand extended.

"Silence costs money these days, Alexander." Then he recognized her-- Kaelie, from Taki's. He'd never paid her much mind since Jace was always there to steal the show. 

"Kaelie," he mumbled. Her eyebrows raised again, and the glamour transformed her hair color again, while Alec fished around for money. What little mundane money he had would not be enough to buy her silence if Endarkened Shadowhunters came knocking, but it would be enough to keep her from finding them.

"He's through the kitchen doors," Kaelie smiled. 

Confused, Alec pushed towards the swinging doors, and into the bustling kitchen. The workers all seemed to be mundane, unlike Kaelie. They worked around him, as Alec looked around the industrial kitchen, up until they all froze a few seconds later.

Alec braced himself for something to come around the corner, and a blue glow did, with Magnus encompassed in it.

"Alec," Magnus mumbled. Alec didn't hesitate, dodging frozen workers until he was in Magnus' arms. The chaos of the kitchen suddenly resumed around them, as if Magnus couldn't keep his focus up enough to maintain the magic. Alec threw his arms over Magnus' shoulders, and buried his face in Magnus' neck. 

"Alec, oh my Alec." Magnus was running his fingers through Alec's hair. 

"You're alive," Alec mumbled. He wrapped his arms tighter around Magnus. 

He was safe now.

He was safe.

"Where have you been?" Magnus demanded, pulling Alec out to arms' length.

"Everywhere," Alec sighed.

"Come on," Magnus said, slipping out of Alec's grasp and taking his hand up. He guided Alec towards another door even farther in the back, which led to a descending staircase.

"Wait." Alec suddenly regained his senses, freezing in the door frame. "How do I know--"

"--it's really me?" Magnus asked. "I should be asking the same of you, I suppose. Who is my father?"

"Asmodeus. What am I afraid of?"

"Umbrellas," Magnus said, clearly trying to suppress a smile. Alec looked down the stairs. 

"Is this where you've been hiding?"

"Yes."

"For seven years?"

"The better half of it," Magnus said, walking down the stairs. Alec hesitantly followed, his free hand hovering over the top of his jacket.

Magnus waved his hands and the lights illuminated an expansive room, modeled after Magnus' New York loft, just missing the windows and view.

"You miss New York," Alec observed.

"I miss . . . a lot of things," Magnus sighed, dropping Alec's hand. "And you? Where have you been?"

"We first landed in India, and we stayed awhile, but Isabelle and I were on the move every couple months after that."

"And where is Isabelle?"

"Gone," Alec said. Magnus collapsed into a chair. 

"I figured all of you were gone-- or Turned-- but it's so much worse hearing that confirmation," Magnus sighed.

Alec sat on a couch across from him, sinking into under-stuffed cushions. "We were attacked outside Cairo. Clary's Portal rune helped us dozens of times, and Izzy was so good at doing it, that I let her do it. Her back was turned, and the stinger went straight through her spine to her heart."

"It was quick, Alec."

"But I could have stopped it."

"You know better than to blame yourself," Magnus said.

They fell quiet, Alec thinking of Izzy in her final moments, Magnus thinking of her at her best. Alec idly played with the straps keeping his gloves on, peeling them on and off on and off on and off--

"I can't believe it's you," Alec said, looking up. Magnus smiled slightly. "After all this time. Seven years has felt like eternity."

Alec rose off the couch and settled into Magnus' lap, gently kissing Magnus, testing the waters.

Seven years and every night Alec had thought about Magnus. About this moment, when the chaos would finally start to rebuild itself, and they would take on everything by themselves. When, for once, Izzy and Jace's deaths wouldn't sting because he'd be distracted with the hope of a future.

Magnus ran his hands up Alec's thighs, and Alec pressed harder into the kiss. Neither of them had forgotten this-- the way their hearts felt explosive, the way their fingers thought for themselves, and the incurable need to be closer to one another.

Alec felt for the zipper of his jacket, yanking it down and shrugging the jacket off, his lips barely leaving the kiss.

Magnus' hands were cold as they brushed at the skin at Alec's waistline. Alec knew Magnus wanted him to take the ratty old black sweater off, so he sat back, loving Magnus' gasps for air, easily slipping it off. Magnus' fingers traced the faint remnants of runes. 

"My stele broke," Alec explained. 

"That's why you're here?" Magnus glanced up for a brief second. 

"I was looking for adamas," Alec said. "Tatiana--"

"Tatiana Lightwood?"

"Yes," Alec nodded. "She said you might have some."

"I have a little," Magnus said, his fingers still tracing. They were on Alec's scarred parabatai rune and it hurt. Alec took Magnus' hands in his, just to take the pain away. "I'm sorry about him," Magnus said.

"He's dead. It's not fair but--"

"Jace isn't dead," Magnus said. 

"The rune--"

"He was Turned. That's enough to sever the bond," Magnus explained. "And he rose through the ranks quickly. Alec, he runs the Endarkened now."

"I didn't know," Alec mumbled. He stumbled to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. "I didn't know."

"You couldn't have known--"

"You know though," Alec said. Something snapped. Something didn't feel right. This was no longer the perfect moment he had envisioned. He turned back around. "Magnus, how do you know?"

"I have sources."

"You have demons at the front door," Alec said. "Why haven't they turned you in yet?"

"I pay them a lot of money," Magnus said. "The bar brings in good money. They believe I'm an ifirit--"

"Sebastian and the Endarkened wouldn't care. You're still a Downworlder to them," Alec said. "Besides, you're notorious and they're not stupid."

"What are you implying?" Magnus asked, rising to his feet.

"You're not real," Alec said.

"Alec, please--"

"You don't call me Alec," he said, adding that to the growing list of reasons he had just seriously screwed up. "You only call me Alec when you're mad. Otherwise you always called me Alexander."

"That's not true. And I knew the answer to your question."

"But so did Jace."

Something twisted in his stomach-- a sharp pain that Alec knew he couldn't recover from.

"You're right. I do know about your silly fear." Alec dropped to his knees, as the knife slid out of his back. Jace kicked Alec in his side, turning him onto his back as he sprawled on the floor.

"Jace," Alec choked out. Magnus stepped into sight, so both of their faces-- the faces of the two men he loved most-- were above him as he took in the breaths he knew to be his last. The fake Magnus peeled his face away like it was a mask. The man behind the glamour was a familiar-looking Shadowhunter, with curly black hair, but Alec couldn't place his name.

"You were the last one. The last of the corrupt, Clave-loving Nephilim," Jace said, smiling. "I must give you credit, brother-- you were so hard to catch. But I knew you couldn't resist Magnus and I knew you'd trust Tatiana just because she was a Lightwood. Clearly you don't know all of your family history though; Tatiana hated the Lightwoods and she hated Magnus Bane even more."

"Jace," Alec mumbled again. His eyes were becoming fuzzy, and he hated the warm dampness sticking to his skin. "Jace, I'm sorry."

"Your sorriness would not have gotten me here. I rule this world now, and Clary is at my side. I did was Sebastian and Valentine could not. I defeated the Clave. I can still save you, Alec. You can join me."

"No," Alec decided. He wanted no more of this world. He wanted no more of this life.

Jace nodded solemnly, as if there was still some part of his heart that could still love and respect Alec. 

Alec felt his eyes close on their own accord, and a tear slipped out, warming his cheek as it slid down.

A biting, unfamiliar voice broke through the last seconds of darkness, "Ave atque vale, Alexander Lightwood."