Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Are you following me?”

The last person Thomas expected to see that night in Governor’s Square was him.

Alastair. The same Alastair he had come to like in such a short amount of time after meeting him briefly at the Academy, the same Alastair who had spread a lie several years before. The same Alastair who, if he was honest with himself, had already forgiven. Everyone thought Alastair was aloof and only cared about himself, but Thomas knew that wasn’t true.

“I could ask you the same thing, Alastair,” he replied as he reached his side, lifting his head and raising an eyebrow. “I’m on night patrol.”

“I’ve heard about the recent attacks. Terrible. But I’m not the type to go out checking the streets.”

“Nevertheless, you are here,” Thomas reflected. “At night, with a set of spears in your hand.”

Alastair froze for a moment and nodded, and Thomas thought he had seen the side of his mouth curve in a faint grin. He tried to cover his expression by looking away. “Better safe than sorry, Lightwood.”

Thomas had just smiled, unable to say more. They were still strolling in the dead of the night, and they needed to keep their eyes open and be ready if somebody would attack them. Thomas was not afraid to walk alone in the deserted streets of London, but he had to admit that having Alastair by his side was comforting. There was something in his presence, maybe his savoir faire, the way he faced the world which was different from his. He was not sure what it was that attracted him to Alastair, he just knew that what he felt for him was something of epic proportions and he could not let it go.

“You know, Alastair – “

A noise not far away from where they were stopped Thomas’ words abruptly. He and Alastair exchanged a quick glance, and he saw him hold on his spears as he checked on his left and then behind him. Thomas also got hold of his bolas, ready to strike whoever was lurking in the dark.

“Cover my back, Lightwood,” Alastair declared, trudging towards the light of the closest streetlamp from where the noise came.

Thomas wanted to tell Alastair to wait for him, to devise a plan together, but he didn’t have the chance to do it. Alastair was already nearing the place where they had heard the noise, and he was heading into danger head on as he always did. Thomas was about to reach him when he heard the noise again, accompanied by a thud, and the creature finally showed itself.

“It’s a Raum demon,” Thomas commented. “He’s looking for someone.”

Alastair didn’t turn but he nodded, aiming his spears at the white skinned demon who reminded Thomas of a toad, except it wasn’t cute.

Thomas closed the distance between him and the demon but in the short span he took to go from where he was, the Raum had already made his move on Alastair, who now lain a few feet behind the demon and was clutching his head with his hands. Thomas wanted to check on him, but at the same time, he couldn’t risk that the demon would do more damage. He decided to face the Raum, but after hitting him with his weapon, the creature disappeared.

“Where is he?” Thomas asked the dark and empty street, but no one answered. He could have taken him down, but it was better that he had fled.

He glanced to where the demon had tossed Alastair’s body. He was still touching his head, but he didn’t seem in pain. Not that he knew of, anyway.

Thomas hurried to Alastair and lowered himself to check for wounds. “Are you okay?”

Alastair’s eyes were tightly shut, his whole face contorted. “I’m fine,” he growled.

Thomas wasn’t sure he was telling the truth. He’d rather hide his pain than to let someone take care of him. He touched the back of Alastair’s head and noticed that it was wet. His hands were stained with red liquid. “No, you are not. You are bleeding.”

Alastair slapped Thomas’ hand away and narrowed his eyes at him. “You shouldn’t tend to me. I can manage on my own, Lightwood.”

“You should know that I never leave anyone behind, Alastair. You may have hurt me, but I’m not heartless.”

“Well, you should be,” Alastair frowned, and when Thomas was about to open his shirt to draw a rune on his chest because it would be more effective and would make him heal faster, he grabbed his fist. “What are you doing?”

“I’m drawing a healing rune, Alastair.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to.”

“I do not deserve it.”

Thomas sighed and massaged his temples. When he told him such things, Thomas didn’t know whether to agree or to put some sense into him. He decided to say something in between the two and face the elephant in the room.

“Let me be clear for once and for all with you, Alastair. It is true that you did what you did. We can’t go back to the past and erase it. It is also true that you hurt me like I never thought somebody could ever dare to… but don’t say you don’t deserve it. Everyone deserves to be forgiven, to be helped. As shadowhunters, I’d never leave you here to die in a puddle of blood.”

Alastair raised an eyebrow. “Is my wound that severe?”

“No.”

“Then I can manage, Lightwood,” he said grimly, interrupting eye contact and try to get back on his feet.

Thomas did not help him although he saw how he stumbled when he stood. When he was able to stand without feeling lightheaded, he gazed at him with a new understanding in his black eyes.

“I better go tend to my head,” said Alastair. “It was a pleasure walking with you, Lightwood. Even if my ideal night didn’t include being struck by a Raum demon.”

“You never know what the future holds.”

“That’s the interesting part about life. It’s unpredictable.”

“Look, Alastair…” Thomas started saying, but he had already lost him.

“Goodbye, Lightwood.”

“Goodbye, Carstairs.”

And it was Paris all over again.

Except something had changed that night. He realized that he had truly forgiven Alastair. He only wished for Alastair to start forgiving himself.