Light the World Up for Just One Day (Jace/Alec)
Title: Light the World Up for Just One Day
Fandom: Shadowhunters
Pairings: Jace/Alec
Rating: T
Summary: Once the war is over, it's time for celebration.
Author's Notes: This was written by the prompt 'the things you said when we were the happiest we ever were'.
Also posted on FF.net and AO3.
The war ended in the middle of summer.
Shadowhunters rarely bothered with excessive festiveness, no matter what holiday it came to, but it was different this time around. Almost everyone who'd taken part in the battle had been allowed to take a break after everything they'd endured. The New York Institute was eerily empty as everyone but the few left to guard its territories had found a way to spend the day.
There would be fireworks a little after nightfall on Fort Tilden Beach, they'd been told, and when the time came, everyone had made their way there. It'd been chosen because mundanes rarely visited it and Jace watched as an improbable amount of Nephilim and half of the New York Downworld gradually gathered around them.
"I can't believe you've never seen fireworks," Alec said for what was probably the thousandth time and Jace suppressed a sigh. "You've been living in New York for almost ten years."
"Maybe I've just never been assigned a mission on one of the major holidays," Jace shrugged. "Or maybe," he added pointedly with a glance in his parabatai's direction, "no one's thought of telling me about it. How could I have noticed them?"
"Well, you'll definitely notice them now," Alec said dryly as he suddenly stopped at a relatively empty patch of the beach and sat down, motioning for Jace to follow.
He did, chancing a look around to see where the rest of their little group had gone. Clary and Simon were still lagging behind, most likely still discussing Simon's new Daylighter status and Izzy, Lydia and Magnus had stopped close by to speak to Luke and Jocelyn. The rest of the Lightwood family was nowhere to be seen and Jace hoped that someone had picked Max up from the Mumbai Institute - they all knew that he wouldn't want to miss the fireworks for the world.
Even through his gear, the sand was pleasantly warm after the hot day they'd had and Jace leant back on his hands, closing his eyes as the gentle breeze coming from the ocean washed over him. He felt as if his body had suddenly liquefied; all the tension from the past few days, the past few months, was slowly seeping out from his body and he allowed himself to try and put his thoughts in order. Last night, he'd fallen asleep as soon as his head had hit his pillow (in his room, his bed, and he'd been so relieved by the familiarity of it that he could have cried) and now everything that had happened finally started taking shape in front of him as he tried to make sense of it.
"The first time I saw them was just a couple of years after we'd left Idris," Alec said and Jace opened his eyes to look at him. He'd got that look again; the one he always got when talking about his early childhood, as if it was a foreign country he'd visited once but could barely remember. "It scared the hell out of me, but Mother told me that it was just how mundanes celebrated."
Shadowhunters did the same sometimes, or so Jace had been told. He'd never seen much of it from the manor he'd been raised in, and he supposed that Alec couldn't have seen any either: as far as Jace knew, he'd been too young when they'd left their homeland (or rather, when they'd been exiled, although no one ever used that word), and Shadowhunters hadn't had that many occasions for celebration in the past two decades anyway.
But things had changed now. Valentine was dead and everyone had made sure of that; there were no hushed whispers of possible return, no secrets, and no Circle members lurking just around the corner at any given moment.
It was over. The war was over. The idea of it hadn't stuck quite yet despite Jace's best efforts, but it seemed to finally sink in now and he could understand perfectly why mundanes would want something loud and flashy and colourful to celebrate their most important moments with; something that shouted that yes, despite everything, they were still here.
"They're going to have no idea what's going on here," Jace said after a few moments, and then realised how much of a non-sequitur that had been when Alec's expression morphed to confusion. "The mundanes, I mean."
"They won't," Alec waved him off as he shifted around to get more comfortable. His eyes were focused on some spot between the sky and the ocean as if he'd been hypnotised. "This entire place is glamoured."
"Of course it is," Jace snorted derisively. "You think of everything, don't you?"
"Someone has to," Alec shot back, but he looked amused when he focused back on Jace. The change was subtle, but it was something Jace was pretty sure he'd never seen before. He'd been wound up like a spring from the moment Jace had met him and he'd probably been the same all the years that had come before that, but he was relaxed now; almost entirely devoid of tension. "Can't have them asking questions."
"And usually I'd applaud how much thought has gone into organising this," Jace said, raising his voice slightly to stop whatever smart remark Alec had ready, "but you really need to stop thinking."
"I can't just turn it off," Alec protested immediately, but his expression softened. "But I'll do my best."
"That's better," Jace said, ruffling Alec's hair in approval only to have him pull away, laughter still on his lips and Jace took him in; took in the face he'd only seen covered in ichor and blood for weeks on end and remembered how desperately he'd wanted to see him smile again, even if it was over something insignificant. For so long it had seemed like the war was the only real thing left in the world and that everything else had been just an illusion, but something had changed in the single day they'd had after their victory and now the war was nothing but a memory; one still painfully vivid if Jace made an effort to remember, but just a memory nonetheless. This was what was real - the sand, the wind, the campfire someone had built nearby, the way Alec laughed like he hadn't been allowed to do it for years.
Jace hadn’t realised how much closer to his parabatai he’d got until he felt Alec’s hand on his shoulder, pushing him back gently but firmly. He was still smiling, but it was a more rueful smile now. Jace could still see the difference - he hadn’t closed off again. Or at least, not yet.
“Don’t do anything you might regret later,” Alec said; his tone so even that it was clear how deliberate it was. Jace shifted closer to him anyway, just to make sure that no one around could hear them.
“I wasn’t about to do anything I might regret,” he said with no trace of laughter left in his tone, although he couldn’t suppress a smile at Alec’s sharp intake of breath as he clearly understood what he’d just implied. When he looked at Jace again, his eyes were full of mirth.
“Then don’t do anything we’re going to get punished for later.”
It was a subtle reminder of just where they were, but Jace understood. There would be time for everything later; time for them to talk of all the ‘what next’s that would come now that the dust had settled.
“It’s starting,” Alec almost whispered and Jace looked up just in time to see lights explode in the sky; one after another until the deep dark blue was illuminated by so many colours that Jace knew he wouldn’t be able to take it all in. He redirected his gaze to Alec instead and almost threw caution to the wind - he didn’t want to wait, didn’t want to hide from the whole world just how happy he was - but he held back. He knew they couldn’t afford it here; not when there were so many people around, anyway. For now, there wasn’t much that he could do, so Jace reached for Alec’s hand and smiled as their fingers intertwined, unseen between their bodies.
It wasn’t enough, but it was his.
Fandom: Shadowhunters
Pairings: Jace/Alec
Rating: T
Summary: Once the war is over, it's time for celebration.
Author's Notes: This was written by the prompt 'the things you said when we were the happiest we ever were'.
Also posted on FF.net and AO3.
The war ended in the middle of summer.
Shadowhunters rarely bothered with excessive festiveness, no matter what holiday it came to, but it was different this time around. Almost everyone who'd taken part in the battle had been allowed to take a break after everything they'd endured. The New York Institute was eerily empty as everyone but the few left to guard its territories had found a way to spend the day.
There would be fireworks a little after nightfall on Fort Tilden Beach, they'd been told, and when the time came, everyone had made their way there. It'd been chosen because mundanes rarely visited it and Jace watched as an improbable amount of Nephilim and half of the New York Downworld gradually gathered around them.
"I can't believe you've never seen fireworks," Alec said for what was probably the thousandth time and Jace suppressed a sigh. "You've been living in New York for almost ten years."
"Maybe I've just never been assigned a mission on one of the major holidays," Jace shrugged. "Or maybe," he added pointedly with a glance in his parabatai's direction, "no one's thought of telling me about it. How could I have noticed them?"
"Well, you'll definitely notice them now," Alec said dryly as he suddenly stopped at a relatively empty patch of the beach and sat down, motioning for Jace to follow.
He did, chancing a look around to see where the rest of their little group had gone. Clary and Simon were still lagging behind, most likely still discussing Simon's new Daylighter status and Izzy, Lydia and Magnus had stopped close by to speak to Luke and Jocelyn. The rest of the Lightwood family was nowhere to be seen and Jace hoped that someone had picked Max up from the Mumbai Institute - they all knew that he wouldn't want to miss the fireworks for the world.
Even through his gear, the sand was pleasantly warm after the hot day they'd had and Jace leant back on his hands, closing his eyes as the gentle breeze coming from the ocean washed over him. He felt as if his body had suddenly liquefied; all the tension from the past few days, the past few months, was slowly seeping out from his body and he allowed himself to try and put his thoughts in order. Last night, he'd fallen asleep as soon as his head had hit his pillow (in his room, his bed, and he'd been so relieved by the familiarity of it that he could have cried) and now everything that had happened finally started taking shape in front of him as he tried to make sense of it.
"The first time I saw them was just a couple of years after we'd left Idris," Alec said and Jace opened his eyes to look at him. He'd got that look again; the one he always got when talking about his early childhood, as if it was a foreign country he'd visited once but could barely remember. "It scared the hell out of me, but Mother told me that it was just how mundanes celebrated."
Shadowhunters did the same sometimes, or so Jace had been told. He'd never seen much of it from the manor he'd been raised in, and he supposed that Alec couldn't have seen any either: as far as Jace knew, he'd been too young when they'd left their homeland (or rather, when they'd been exiled, although no one ever used that word), and Shadowhunters hadn't had that many occasions for celebration in the past two decades anyway.
But things had changed now. Valentine was dead and everyone had made sure of that; there were no hushed whispers of possible return, no secrets, and no Circle members lurking just around the corner at any given moment.
It was over. The war was over. The idea of it hadn't stuck quite yet despite Jace's best efforts, but it seemed to finally sink in now and he could understand perfectly why mundanes would want something loud and flashy and colourful to celebrate their most important moments with; something that shouted that yes, despite everything, they were still here.
"They're going to have no idea what's going on here," Jace said after a few moments, and then realised how much of a non-sequitur that had been when Alec's expression morphed to confusion. "The mundanes, I mean."
"They won't," Alec waved him off as he shifted around to get more comfortable. His eyes were focused on some spot between the sky and the ocean as if he'd been hypnotised. "This entire place is glamoured."
"Of course it is," Jace snorted derisively. "You think of everything, don't you?"
"Someone has to," Alec shot back, but he looked amused when he focused back on Jace. The change was subtle, but it was something Jace was pretty sure he'd never seen before. He'd been wound up like a spring from the moment Jace had met him and he'd probably been the same all the years that had come before that, but he was relaxed now; almost entirely devoid of tension. "Can't have them asking questions."
"And usually I'd applaud how much thought has gone into organising this," Jace said, raising his voice slightly to stop whatever smart remark Alec had ready, "but you really need to stop thinking."
"I can't just turn it off," Alec protested immediately, but his expression softened. "But I'll do my best."
"That's better," Jace said, ruffling Alec's hair in approval only to have him pull away, laughter still on his lips and Jace took him in; took in the face he'd only seen covered in ichor and blood for weeks on end and remembered how desperately he'd wanted to see him smile again, even if it was over something insignificant. For so long it had seemed like the war was the only real thing left in the world and that everything else had been just an illusion, but something had changed in the single day they'd had after their victory and now the war was nothing but a memory; one still painfully vivid if Jace made an effort to remember, but just a memory nonetheless. This was what was real - the sand, the wind, the campfire someone had built nearby, the way Alec laughed like he hadn't been allowed to do it for years.
Jace hadn’t realised how much closer to his parabatai he’d got until he felt Alec’s hand on his shoulder, pushing him back gently but firmly. He was still smiling, but it was a more rueful smile now. Jace could still see the difference - he hadn’t closed off again. Or at least, not yet.
“Don’t do anything you might regret later,” Alec said; his tone so even that it was clear how deliberate it was. Jace shifted closer to him anyway, just to make sure that no one around could hear them.
“I wasn’t about to do anything I might regret,” he said with no trace of laughter left in his tone, although he couldn’t suppress a smile at Alec’s sharp intake of breath as he clearly understood what he’d just implied. When he looked at Jace again, his eyes were full of mirth.
“Then don’t do anything we’re going to get punished for later.”
It was a subtle reminder of just where they were, but Jace understood. There would be time for everything later; time for them to talk of all the ‘what next’s that would come now that the dust had settled.
“It’s starting,” Alec almost whispered and Jace looked up just in time to see lights explode in the sky; one after another until the deep dark blue was illuminated by so many colours that Jace knew he wouldn’t be able to take it all in. He redirected his gaze to Alec instead and almost threw caution to the wind - he didn’t want to wait, didn’t want to hide from the whole world just how happy he was - but he held back. He knew they couldn’t afford it here; not when there were so many people around, anyway. For now, there wasn’t much that he could do, so Jace reached for Alec’s hand and smiled as their fingers intertwined, unseen between their bodies.
It wasn’t enough, but it was his.