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x-ceirios-x · 3 months

Text

at least i'm trying

rowan has never had things easy and their relationships with others strain and ease over the years because of it.

warnings: cursing, more warnings below the heading for each part where needed

I've been having a hard time adjusting I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that

2004

They still weren’t used to the winter chill of Brooklyn. Idris got cold, but the city felt so…impersonal. It was cold in two ways.

The one place they expected a little warmth was at the Institute, but even that had been a storm lately. That impersonality of the city they hated only forced itself into their life further when their father showed up for a few days. He brought a gift from their Aunt Jia and Uncle Patrick since they didn’t see them for their birthday, but brought nothing of his own. He swore he was going to go out shopping later that week for something. Like they cared about his empty promises.

They stayed up late in the library to read for a few hours and made the mistake of stopping in the kitchen to get a snack before bed. Before they walked in, they heard voices on the other side of the wall—Maryse, Robert, and their dad.

Not wanting to interrupt, they pressed their back to the wall and listened for a moment. Mom always said their curious nature was going to get them in trouble as a kid, but they had no idea how much.

“They wouldn’t want to go, Aric,” Maryse said, voice almost pleading with him. “They’ve been here for four years. This is their home.”

Their dad sighed, clearly frustrated. “Their home is in Alicante. I appreciate everything you’ve done for the kids, I really do. There are plenty of kids their age there, and they can come visit when they want to. They deserve to go back to the city.”

Robert spoke up. “You haven’t seen them with the kids. Alice was a mess the first year she was here, but I’ve never seen her happier than when she’s with Alec. If you take that away, you’re just going to lose them again.”

They stared at the opposite wall for a long moment as they continued. Every word went in one ear and out the other. He wanted to take them back to Idris? They couldn’t live with the Lightwoods anymore? That wasn’t fair! Alec and Izzy and Jace were family and they weren’t going to just up and leave like that!

They turned the corner into the kitchen and stared their father down. “I’m not going,” they said, tone flat and full of barely-contained anger. “You can’t make me.”

“Alice—“ Aric started. They watched Maryse give him a look that they’d seen her give to Robert and Alec both many times—this is your mess to clean up. It almost made them smile. “It’s time to come home.”

“This is my home!” they argued, unable to hold themselves back now. “This is—you can’t take me!”

“I am your father—“

“You haven’t been my dad since mom died!”

All three adults stood there, shocked that they said that, so they used the opportunity to get away. They ran—really, they weren’t sure of where they were going, but they ran through the Institute and into the streetlight-lit city streets, out into the night where he couldn’t find them.

By the time they stopped running, they really didn’t know where they ended up. It was some dimly-lit alley somewhere with a ladder that led up to the roof of the shorter building. They climbed it with ease and sat on the concrete, pulling their knees up to their chest.

This wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. He couldn’t just take them like that—and he was wrong on top of that. Brooklyn was their home. They barely remembered Alicante, despite spending more than half their life there. Most of those memories, they assumed, were gone due to not wanting to remember good or bad things about their mom.

He hadn’t been around for years—they spoke to Auntie Élodie more than they spoke to him, and she was all the way over in France. He left them for four years and decided now they wanted to be a dad? They didn’t lie: the day they lost their mom, they also lost him.

They didn’t know how long they sat on that building, but the moment they heard someone on the ladder they jumped up and prepared to fight. They didn’t know who or what was there, but they didn’t want some mundane picking a fight with them or a vampire looking for a midnight snack.

It was only a few seconds later that they saw Jace pop over the edge of the building, clad in much warmer clothes than they had and witchlight in hand. “By the Angel,” he muttered as he walked over to them.

They didn’t speak at first, just hugged him. He was shocked for a moment, but let them anyway. He rested his arms around their shoulders, letting them steady their breathing as he could tell they were upset.

“You’re cold,” he said as they pulled away, taking off his jacket and handing it to them. “Here.”

“Then you’ll get cold.”

“Just take it.”

He smiled as he said it—at least someone wasn’t mad at them. They were concerned that everyone would have been upset because they ran away, but he found humor in their stubbornness. Slowly, they took the jacket from him and slid it on.

“What happened, Ace?” he asked. “Maryse woke me up and said you ran out. That’s all I got.”

They stood there for a moment, playing with the zippers at the end of the sleeves of his leather jacket. “Dad wants to take me back to Alicante. I told him I don’t wanna.”

They watched as he blinked a few times, trying to process what they just said. “You—he what? You can’t!”

“That’s what I said, but he’s pretty insistent. He tried to pull the dad card and I told him he hasn’t been my dad since Mom died, so…”

“Oh.”

They knew talking about tough parent relationships was hard with Jace considering both of his parents died a couple years ago. Really, they tried not to get into it with him very often, but he asked what happened. They felt like if he got up in the middle of the night to come find them, he deserved the truth.

After a beat, he changed the subject. “Everyone’s worried about you. We should get back.”

They took a step away from him. “I’m not going back if he’s going to take me back to Idris. I won’t leave—“

He could probably hear the tenseness in their voice because he immediately tried to diffuse their anxiety. He stepped close and grabbed their hands. “Hey, look at me—“ he said, holding their hands in one and tilting their chin up with the other. “He’s not taking you anywhere you don’t want to go. I’ll stick up for you, okay?”

They stared at him for a long moment. This was why they liked Jace so much—he was fiercely protective of anyone he cared about and willing to do anything for them. After a long moment, they nodded in agreement, and he hugged them again.

“If it were up to me, you wouldn’t be going anywhere,” he muttered before pulling away, a small smile on his face when he looked at them again. “Let’s get you home before Maryse really loses her mind.”

They chuckled and nodded. Stressing Maryse out wasn’t the goal to all of this, and he was right. She was probably full of anxiety waiting at home. Jace took his phone out and texted someone—probably Maryse to say they were safe—before putting his phone away. They made their way down the ladder and down the street, back to the Institute. The whole time they were pretty quiet, but after a minute or two, they had brushed hands enough times they just decided to hold his hand. In the streetlight, they swore they saw him blush a little. Maybe it was just from the cold.

They soon arrived back at the Institute and the moment they closed the door behind them, they heard footsteps coming down the hall. They were barely three feet in the door when they heard Maryse’s voice call them.

“Alice Ashfair!” she said, anger evident in her voice. “By the Angel’s name, what is wrong with you?”

They tried to hide in the door, but they knew there was no use. They hadn’t mastered any camouflage runes yet to disappear when she yelled at them for something stupid.

“I was worried sick! I had to wake Jace and Alec and Isabelle to go look for you, Jensen woke up from all the noise and Robert’s in with him trying to make sure he doesn’t know everything going on so he doesn’t worry—what were you thinking?”

They stood there, looking at the floor and awkwardly playing with the zippers on Jace’s jacket again. He was still there, standing next to them, but he knew better than to say anything to Maryse like this.

She took a deep breath and held her hand out for them, face suddenly much more relaxed now that she got all that anxiety out of her system. They took her hand and the next thing they knew, they were enveloped in a bone-crushing hug that they swore could have actually broken a bone if she squeezed them any tighter.

“Do not, and I repeat, do not—“ she said, pulling away enough to look at them— “run away from this Institute in the middle of the night again. Understood?”

They nodded and simply laid their head on her shoulder again. “Don’t let Dad take me back to Alicante,” they muttered, still thinking about the idea. They would have to start life over again and they didn’t want to leave the only people that treated them like family.

She shook her head and kissed the top of theirs quickly. “I won’t. You always have a home here.”

Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don't quite know what to say But I'm here in your doorway

This is me trying

2005

There was a reason they started drinking coffee with dinner. When they slept, at least lately, they ended up having nightmares. They’d gotten worse in the last few years and they weren’t sure why, only that if they didn’t sleep, they couldn’t think about it like that.

Unfortunately, they realized about halfway through their cup of coffee that it was decaf and ended up falling asleep by 8PM. That left them awake in the middle of the night, usually, but tonight was a little different. Tonight they woke up from a dream—a dark one that left Jensen, Alec, and everyone else they cared about at the Institute ended up on some big mission and no one made it out alive.

The silence of the Institute scared them as they passed down the hallway, hands buried in their hoodie pocket. They got to Alec’s door, a few doors down, and squinted at it. All lights were off, but there was a bit of light coming in from the window. Was this really a good idea? They shouldn’t wake him—it was so late and they knew he had things to do in the morning for Maryse—

They were about to turn away and start walking back to bed when the door opened slightly. Alec, still half asleep and rubbing his eyes, poked his head out the door. He looked at them, realized who it was, and dropped the just-asleep act. “Oh. Hey, you’re not Mom.”

They chuckled. “Up late reading again?”

He nodded. “Nothing better to do. Borrowed one of Jensen’s books. Don’t tell him.” He studied their face for a moment, then asked, “something wrong?”

They sighed. “It’s…it’s stupid.”

“You think everything is stupid when you have to talk about your feelings.”

“How do you know it’s about my feelings?”

“If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be here. Come on.”

He gestured for them to join him and they walked inside, slightly comforted by the click of the door behind them. They didn’t need to embarrass themselves in front of the rest of the Institute if someone else woke up. Silently, they took their usual place, sitting at the foot of his bed, and played with their hair to try to keep themselves calm.

“Talk to me,” he said with a sigh, sitting on the bed and leaning against the wall. “What’s wrong?”

“Had a stupid nightmare,” they said, voice muffled by their face buried in their hands. They took a deep breath and looked over at him. “It’s dumb. It’s so dumb, like I said, I just…”

“You just what?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. Cause you…weren’t.”

He nodded and held his arm out for them, a silent invitation to join him. When they did, they leaned against his shoulder and he loosely laid his arm around their shoulders. “You know that, Angel forbid something happens to me, I’m going out swinging, right?” he asks, mostly making a joke.

They roll their eyes, a small smile playing at the corner of their mouth. “Yeah, yeah. Just like we’ve all been taught.”

“Can I get the context of what it was so I can tell you exactly why I wouldn’t lose?”

“If you must know, it was a couple Raveners. And if you don’t knock off the arrogance, you’re gonna start to sound like Jace.”

He laughed at that, knowing full well they were right. “Alright, alright.” He took a beat and asked, “feel any better?”

They nodded, head still leaning against him. “Now I’m comfy, so you might just have to deal with me for the night. I’m stuck to you.” This wasn’t the first time they’d had a mini-sleepover and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Despite the (incredibly awkward) comment they heard from one of the other Shadowhunters that visited about them being a cute couple, they’d always felt a sense of security from Alec that didn’t come from a place of romantic feelings. Sure, they might have a crush on Jace, but their dynamic with Alec was completely different than that. He was just someone they felt safe with. Their best friend.

Alec rolled his eyes and readjusted so they were each laying on their sides (and let them fall over onto the bed on purpose), so they stole his blankets from him. This sparked a mini wrestling match until he got enough blankets back to cover him and they both got comfortable.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” they muttered, smiling slightly awkwardly. “I…it’s weird. But I think knowing you’re here and you’re ok might help me sleep better.”

He shook his head. “Anytime you need me, I’m here,” he said softly. “I’m never going to turn my back on you. You know that.”

They nodded and closed their eyes, finally able to drift off in a soft sleep.

They told me all of my cages were mental So I got wasted like all my potential And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad I have a lot of regrets about that

2008

warnings: smoking, su/cide mention

Things got better, since Edom. After…certain incidents they didn’t like to talk about, they spent a few weeks with Magnus. Slowly but surely, they built their trust back with Alec and the rest of the group.

Clary, surprisingly, was the first one to reach out. They had the least amount of history, so that made sense. It was easier when there wasn’t a decade of time together, only a few months. She personally delivered their invite to Jocelyn and Luke’s wedding to them at Magnus’s apartment and (as long as he promised they could hide with him when needed) they agreed to go.

Alec came around next. They saw each other in very tense passing at Magnus’s and they felt bad that his involvement with them during and after their trial caused such a strain on their relationship, but they were happy they worked through it. Despite everything, they wanted him to be happy. They weren’t back to normal yet—did normal even exist anymore?—but they got coffee out and about sometimes. It was time away from the Institute that they could catch up. Once they moved back in, he made a point to do things like make sure they ate or didn’t have enough caffeine to kill them in one day.

They spent a few months in and out of the Institute infirmary, mostly keeping an eye on Jensen when he was sleeping. Sure, it was a little strange, but they didn’t want to face him awake. They had to know he was alive, though. He sustained a lot of injuries and was still going through some physical therapy to get him back to fighting condition. They didn’t believe he was ever going to go on missions after this, but every Shadowhunter had to be able to at least protect themselves. Izzy and Jace would have no problem working with him to train him again. They engaged in really brief small talk once in a while when he was awake, or in passing with others in the Institute, but they left as quickly as they could for Magnus’s. He gave them a key so they could get in when he was out with Alec or visiting the Rige siblings.

Next was Jace. Surprisingly, he was…apologetic. For many things that had gotten the both of them into the pettiest of fights, or the more serious ones. He mentioned, when they were ready, that he could use a sparring partner since Alec was out of the house all the time now—they understood that as him delivering an olive branch in the only way he knew how. Maybe things could go back to normal, like they were before Valentine and Johnathan, but maybe this time without thinking Clary was as annoying.

Out of their closest friends, that left…Isabelle. They’d never been close growing up. She wanted a girl to spend time with and do girly things like makeup and hair and talk about boys, and for a while they tried to indulge her. She wanted some company from someone that wasn’t her mother, and they understood that. The older they got, the less patience they had for things like that and it caused them to drift.

She was the one to find Max, she’d always had a sweet spot for Jensen—it made sense why she was one of the last ones to come around. No matter what they said under the Mortal Sword, that didn’t change their actions. They helped the man that killed her brother and tortured the closest thing she had to him thereafter.

Clary and Jace both tried to fix their relationship earlier on, but to them both, it felt like meddling and seemed to only force them apart further. They were civil, just never spent time together. If that’s how they had to live—just coexisting with her—they figured it wasn’t the worst outcome of all of this.

The days started getting shorter and the sun went down sooner—that meant it was dark at 4:30 and cold. Rowan headed up to the roof of the Institute for a little while, enjoying the fresh air and the stolen cigarettes stuffed into their pocket.

Everyone had their vices—at first, it started with only one or two, just to clear their head, but they were going through more than they wanted to admit recently. Not that anyone was aware of that fun fact. They weren’t sure who would get to them first to wring their neck for it: Maryse, Alec, or Magnus. It was a habit they picked up a few months after Edom when they found some cigarettes in a drawer at Magnus’s one day (they were buried while looking for a phone charger, he probably forgot he had them), and since then they would sneak into a gas station or drugstore to take a couple with an invisibility rune about once a week.

They weren’t expecting the door to the roof to swing open to reveal Isabelle, clearly frustrated, probably from having to climb the giant spiral staircase to get up there. It was isolated—that’s why they liked it so much. “There you are, mom says dinner’s ready—“ she paused for a second, staring at them for a moment. “What are you doing?”

They dropped the cigarette after a final last drag, then stomped it out with their boot. “Nothing. Let’s head inside.”

“No, I saw that. Are you smoking?”

“No, I’m not. Can we just go inside?”

She slammed the door behind her and stood in front of it, looking at them expectantly. “Not until you tell me exactly what’s going on. I thought you were sneaking off a lot lately, but I didn’t know why. This makes sense, though I don’t want to believe it.”

Rowan rolled their eyes, tucking the lighter back in their jacket pocket. “Believe what you will. You didn’t see anything, and that means you’re not going to tell Maryse or Alec.”

She scoffed. “Says who?”

Rowan paused. They knew full well how stubborn Isabelle was so once she had her mind set on it, they knew their cover was blown. Instead of arguing further, they turned away from her and took another drag of it. There was no point in arguing; they’d deal with the consequences later.

“By the Angel,” she said, walking over and taking it out of their hand. Without a second thought, she threw it over the banister and stared them down.

They glared. “What the hell, Izzy?”

“I’m not going to let you kill yourself with these things! You’re seventeen!”

“Well a few months ago, you wouldn’t have cared if I lived or died, so excuse me for not believing your concern.”

Isabelle’s mouth fell open slightly, trying to find the words for any kind of reaction. After a moment, she managed, “that’s not fair. You know I didn’t—“

“No, but you didn’t care to ask, did you? You really think I would willingly help the man who killed Max? Who tortured Jensen? I watched Magnus almost die and spent a month wondering if today was going to be the day Jensen gave out and quit fighting. My own brother is terrified to look at me. You think I wanted that?”

They stared, waiting for a reaction. Instead, she stood silent again. They scoffed and leaned against the railing. “I saw the way you looked at me. All of you. Before I was put under the mortal sword, you all thought I was better off dead, just like Johnathan.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isabelle, you haven’t spoken to me in months other than the necessary things because we live together. You refuse to look me in the eye. I am trying my best to survive all of this, but somethings it’s just not fucking worth it.”

“Rowan—“

“No, do you really want to know what’s going on lately? Why I started smoking?” they asked. “Because I felt like I needed something to feel fucking alive because I’m tired of having to stay at Magnus’s every time I get depressed. Did Alec tell you what happened a while ago?”

“What, no, what did he—“

“No one gave a shit about me anymore, so I took a walk down to the Brooklyn Bridge. I thought it was justified. I don’t have Simon anymore, I don’t have Jensen, my father’s dead, and everyone here was looking at me like I was a monster. Even Alec, which probably hurt the worst.”

By this point, they could feel the tears welling up in their eyes. Trying to keep themselves from crying mid-conversation, they took a breath and wiped them—Isabelle didn’t deserve to see them cry after all this. They couldn’t show weakness.

When they spoke again, it was calmer. Quieter. Much colder. They looked at her out of the corner of their eye and continued. “I stayed with Magnus for a few weeks because he saved my life that night. He decided being at the institute was hurting more than helping, and honestly, he’s right. Because I can see it in your face that you still hate me for what I did, no matter how I had to fight to prove that it wasn’t my fault. I was fifteen, Isabelle. I didn’t know any better and I wanted to save my brother. He’s all I have left.”

They didn’t even wait for her to say something, they just brushed past her and walked back inside. Down the stairs, through the hallway, another set of stairs and up the hall to their bedroom. They heard footsteps behind them, then Jace spoke. “Hey, Maryse says dinner’s ready,” he said, voice plain and—actually—cheerful. He had no idea the shitstorm that just happened on the roof, and their reaction wasn’t his fault.

Nevertheless, they were already upset. Instead of not acknowledging it or simply ignoring him, they shot poison. “Fuck off, Jace, I’m not hungry,” they said under their breath, just trying to get to their bedroom.

He paused for a second, then jogged to catch up with them. “What the hell?” he asked, then saw the look on their face and changed his tone quickly. “Are you okay?”

“By the Angel, leave me the hell alone!” They turned into their room and slammed the door in his face, trying to keep the tears from spilling over and losing everything. They scrambled, looking around their bedside table’s drawer and fumbling in their pockets with the other hand. They retrieved their phone from the drawer, having buried it earlier that day because they didn’t want anyone to talk to them for a few hours, opened it and dialed Magnus. They stuffed it between their shoulder and ear as it rang and pulled another cigarette out of their pocket, lighting it. Usually, they didn’t smoke in their room, but their usual hiding spot had been compromised.

“If you need something, you call, okay? No questions asked.”

He said that the last night they stayed there. Usually, they called for an afternoon away from the rest of the world, but this was a slightly bigger favor. They fought with the lighter and cupped their hand over the end of the cigarette as the phone rang, and finally got it lit when he answered.

“Peanut! How are you, dear?”

They didn’t bother with pleasantries, knowing they were on borrowed time until Maryse came storming in to yell at them. “Can I come stay at yours tonight?”

They could tell they took him off guard. “I—yes, of course. What’s wrong?”

“You said no questions.”

He sighed on the other end. “That I did. Are you physically okay? No bleeding out and needing me to heroically save you?”

They scoffed—it was annoying that he always found a way to make them laugh. “No, I’m fine. I’ll walk over. Thanks.”

“Alright. Be safe, please. I’ll set an extra place for you for dinner—the Rige twins are visiting, but you’re always welcome.”

They bit their tongue—there wasn’t anything to get mad about, it was just poor timing. With that, they said a very quick goodbye and started throwing things into a bag. They packed quickly and left—everyone was in the kitchen or scattered among the Institute, so they had a clear shot for the door. They texted Alec quickly, not wanting him to panic that suddenly they were nowhere to be found.

off to magnus’s place. ill talk to you in the morning

Lightwood

why what’s wrong

need some air.

They were barely five minutes out when they watched his phone number pop up on the screen. They sighed and answered sarcastically, “yes, dear?”

“What’s wrong? Jace said you yelled at him in the hallway for no reason.”

“It wasn’t his fault. Apologize for me.”

“What’s wrong, Rowan? You’re dodging the question.”

They rolled their eyes. “Look I—I don’t want to get into it. But it’s not your fault. I need some air, so just…let me go, okay? I’ll be back tomorrow.”

He sighed audibly over the phone. “Be safe, okay?”

They heard shuffling in the background and then heard Isabelle’s voice ring out, “is that Rowan?”

Alec replied with a yes, and they decided now was a good time to end the call. “I’m not dealing with her right now,” they grumbled. “I’ll talk to you in the morning. Night, Alec.”

He tried to dispute, but they hung up the phone and put it back in their pocket, not wanting to deal with the chaos that was no-doubtedly coming for them soon. Magnus’s would be a safe haven of sorts—or, if anything, a way to postpone the inevitable.

I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere Fell behind on my classmates, and I ended up here Pouring out my heart to a stranger But I didn't pour the whiskey

This is me trying At least I'm trying

2011

warnings: alcohol, underage drinking

For being so independent, Rowan certainly hated the fact they couldn’t sleep without Simon. Usually just hugging a pillow could help, but they’d wake up and he wasn’t there—it sent them into a panic. So they decided, while he was visiting family with Clary, they’d just stay up with some coffee and read like they used to. They’d slowed down on the caffeine once he came home from the Academy, though there was no way to completely cut it out of their system (despite his efforts).

They made their way down to the kitchen to get a mug and begin making the coffee when the outside door opened. There was a small door that led to the yard outside connected to the kitchen, right next to the cellar doors that led to the creepy basement no one liked to go in alone.

Except, maybe Jensen. Why was Jensen outside so late?

He came in the door and froze when he realized they were looking at him. He summoned his composure again, though, and closed the door behind him.

He looked…tired. And a little unsteady on his feet. They noticed the shadows under his eyes, but also noticed how sunken his cheeks looked and how thin his arms were. Things were getting bad again—he never completely bounced back from the things that happened three years prior, but he had silent tells that let them know they needed to check on him more.

They’d been so obsessed with this latest case, they hadn’t noticed. Stupid, stupid idea for picking something up so close to the time everything happened. Or, at least, the anniversary of it all.

“You alright, kiddo?” they asked, studying his face. He looked like he was staring past them, zoned out and not exactly paying attention. They noticed something in his hand, half hidden behind his back. He watched them as the realization dawned on their face, eyes falling to the floor.

He knew he was caught so offered the bottle forward. They took it and stared for a moment, noting it was some of the wine they kept in the cellar for the rare dinner party the Institute had to host.

“What is this?” they asked expectantly. “Are you drunk?”

“No, everything’s just a little fuzzy.” he said, eyes trained on the pattern in the floor tile.

They didn’t know what to do with this. Why the hell was their sixteen year old brother raiding the wine cellar in the middle of the night? They knew full well why, but why was he calling that a coping mechanism? Was that why he was constantly complaining about headaches lately? They were worried he was developing their migraines, but he’s just been hungover?

They were about to ask, but he spoke up. “Don’t yell at me,” he muttered, voice cracking like he was about to cry.

They gasped quietly and shook their head. “No. No yelling,” they said softly, holding their hand out for him. Slowly, he took it, and let them pull him into a hug. They squeezed him tight, leaning their head against his.

He melted. Rowan was pretty sure he wouldn’t have stayed upright for a moment if they weren’t holding him. It was obvious he was trying not to cry so they ran their hand through his hair while he steadied himself like they did when they were kids. They’d crawl into his bed when he had a nightmare and soothe him, even at eight years old. They’d always been so protective of him. The guilt that they couldn’t protect him from something—someone—ate at them every day.

After a long moment, he sat up and they pulled away, still lingering close. They walked over to the small table and gestured for him to sit. Wordlessly, they got two glasses and poured whatever was left in the bottle split between the two of them. They could be responsible tomorrow.

They sat down next to him and silently took a sip of their drink. “You don’t even drink the good shit?” they asked, humor heavy in their tone to try to lighten the mood.

He scoffed. That was good—if anything, it was a little laughter. “I thought if I got into anything too good, Maryse might yell at me.”

“She’d yell at you either way.”

Jensen got quiet and leaned his head on his hand. They gave him the chance to talk, wanting to let him have the option and not feel forced. They knew when someone asked them what was wrong, they were more likely to lie if they pushed it too far.

It was quiet, the only sound around them the muffled city noises and the occasional thud of their glasses hitting the table again. Eventually, he spoke up. “It feels…better,” he said, eyes trained ahead rather than looking at them. “It’s…it’s like if I drink some, I don’t have to think as much. More I have, the less I have to worry about the things around me.”

They nodded in acknowledgment—the scary part was, they understood his logic. That’s exactly why they started smoking a few years back.

“I’m going to sound corny, and you’re going to hate me for it,” they said, only partially teasing. They turned to face him a little more, one hand over his. “This…this isn’t a good way of going about it. I…” they hesitated, unsure how much they could say and what would set him off. They didn’t want to upset him more but this was the elephant in the room. “I was there. I saw it. And I am so sorry I couldn’t stop it earlier, Jen.”

He didn’t speak, only nodded at their words. They continued—there had to be something to get through to him about all this. “I know things can be tense between us. I’m not always there for you and it’s terrible and I’m sorry. You have to talk to someone, Jensen. No one can go through it alone.”

“I feel alone.”

That one sentence single handedly broke their heart. They could see he wasn’t emotional about it, he was just…cold. Unbothered. Like this wasn’t new news. That scared them more than the drinking.

Gently, they tilted his face towards them. “Look at me, Jensen. You are not alone in all this, and I never want you to feel like you are. There are people here that love you and I need you to see that before you get worse.”

They could tell by the look on his face he knew what they meant. They were terrified of the idea of losing anyone else, but especially Jensen. Family was a strange word in their mouth because they didn’t feel like they had much, and the Lightwoods were the closest they had to it, but Jensen was the only family they had left.

They pulled away from him slightly, instead grabbing his hand again. They squeezed it, slightly worried about how frail his hands felt under theirs. Had he been losing weight again? Was he not eating and they didn’t notice because they were so wrapped up in their own world?

“I don’t want to scare you,” they mutter. “But this is scary. I just—“ they couldn’t stop the tension in their voice, even if they tried. “I can’t lose you too, kid.”

They wiped a tear threatening to fall from their eye with their hoodie sleeve and stared him down. “You talk to me, you find Clary, you find Jace, you find someone. Someone to talk to. Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“The midnight escapades for drinking have to stop, okay?”

Again. “Okay.”

They pulled him into a hug again, one hand cradling the back of his head. Things had been so busy, they’d been so busy, that Jensen was slipping through the cracks. It started with the little things they didn’t notice, but it wasn’t fair for them not to notice. Sometimes they forgot that “baby brother” wasn’t so much of a baby anymore but a sixteen year old who’s seen too much for someone so young.

It was quiet for another moment. They pulled away and both continued with their drinks, sitting in the now more comfortable silence. Jensen broke it after a beat. “I was, ah…I talked to Emma the other day. Carstairs. She and Julian and the Blackthorns are doing pretty well.”

“That’s good.”

“I was thinking about going to LA for a little while. Get out of New York for a bit.”

They nodded. As much as they didn’t want him to leave, they knew full well that he would never get better if he couldn’t go out and be his own person. He had to try to do right by his life.

“I think that sounds great,” they replied. “I think the west coast will be great for you. It’s a lot different over there—everything’s more relaxed.”

“‘S what I heard. I just feel like I need to get out. Do something with my life. Like you.”

They smiled softly at him. “Don’t be like me. Be better.”

They finished their drinks after a long moment and Jensen stood up, taking both cups to the sink to rinse them out. They could do dishes in the morning. The two walked down the hall and up the stairs to both their bedrooms. Rowan walked him back to his and left him at the door.

“Hey, just—before you go to bed,” they said, stopping him in the doorway. “I know things are tough right now. I…I wish I could fix it all for you. But I think you’re going to go out and do something amazing.”

He smiled. “Guess I have a good role model, huh?”

They shook their head, laughing slightly. “I do what I can. You…I can see you doing so much good here, Jensen. Or anywhere you want to be. Hold on for that.”

He nodded and smiled, heading into his room for the night. When they heard the latch click, they turned back to the hall and padded their way to their own.

There was a text on their phone—from Simon, no less.

how are you?

you’re never that formal

you know what I mean. I guess you’re not sleeping if you’re answering

They chuckled and shook their head at his comment. Still worried about them even when he was supposed to be with his mom (who they’d yet to meet out of anxiety around parents but knew she was a lovely woman) and sister.

go to sleep, dork

you first

They rolled their eyes and pulled the phone off the charger, rolling over to get comfortable with the closest thing they could get to Simon with them.

fine. I love you

love you to the moon and back

you’re so stupid

guess I’m lucky you like stupid huh?

go to BED.

(~￣³￣)~

They rolled their eyes at his antics, burying their face in the pillow to stifle their laughter at his antics. It was almost three—much later than it should be for someone trying to get back on a decent sleep schedule.

They laid down and got comfortable, pulling his pillow into their chest. Tonight, it helped. Maybe they were just meant to stay up tonight to make sure Jensen was okay, but they’d never been a big believer in fate. What they did know, though, was he had a long life ahead of him and he deserved to live it to the fullest.

And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

This is me trying

2013

As much as they hated swimming, Rowan loved the beach. Especially at night when it was empty and peaceful—they loved taking the short trip for the weekend when they took a mini-vacation in Paris with Aunt Élodie. They sat there, toes in the cool sand, watching the stars as they twinkled in the dark sky.

“On your left,” Simon said, sitting down next to them. He handed them a mug with tea in it and they took it with both hands, using it to warm them in the slightly windy air.

They smiled and leaned against him. “Thanks,” they said softly, watching the waves come in.

It was quiet for a long moment before Simon spoke up. “You seem lost in thought. You okay?”

They nodded and took a sip of their tea. Lemon balm with just a little sugar to cut the tangy citrus—practically perfect. Even better when they didn’t have to make it themselves. “It’s a little weird being here. I barely remember being here as a kid, with Aunt Gunny and Uncle Émile and Sebastian. Sometimes Aline and her parents came, too. Those were always the best times ‘cause the whole family got to be together. Then I missed out on a couple years, and all of a sudden came back. It’s…weird.”

“Good weird?”

“I’m not sure. How’d you feel if you visited somewhere you spent a lot of time at as a kid and showed up all of a sudden when so much changed years later?”

“Uh…” he paused, trying to think for a moment. “I mean, my high school usually did that with the elementary school. We got to visit there. Guess I never did that though.”

They chuckled at his words as he tried to come up with something that related to their situation. He tried. It was cute. “Eh, it’s not a big deal. Like I said, it’s just weird. But I like being here.”

“I like getting out of the city. Brooklyn will always be home, but fresh air once in a while is a little nice.”

This time, he made them laugh a little harder and they curled their arm around his. After a long moment, they said, “I used to be so terrified of the water, y’know.”

He gasped dramatically. “You, scared of something? Say it’s not so!”

“I’m serious!” They swatted his arm gently, rolling their eyes at his antics. “Dad thought it was a good idea to just toss me in one day and I didn’t speak to him for a week. He had to bribe me back with chocolates.”

Simon laughed. “That sounds like you. You might have a world record for the longest grudge ever held.”

“On who?”

“I dunno, Jace? You still pick fights with him. Like, a lot.”

“Oh, that’s just for kicks. If I was still hung up on that…” they trailed off and shook their head. “You’re not wrong though. I probably had a record on my dad for a while.”

“Not anymore?” he asked, genuinely curious. They knew they didn’t talk about their parents much, preferring to keep to themselves about it.

They shrugged. “No point. Also, the older I get…well, I wasn’t an easy kid. And I know he was doing his best. Magnus told me about some stuff with my parents when they were kids and explained that he’d never seen anyone more in love with someone. He even did that stupid ‘he looked at my mom first to see if she was laughing at a joke’ thing. Lame.”

“What do you mean lame? That’s romantic!”

“I told you eons ago I don’t read romance novels. They’re corny.”

“Really? Cause I saw that book you’re reading now, and—“

“That book we don't need to talk about. It’s not romance, necessarily.”

He snickered, still unable to keep a straight face when anything like that came up in conversation. They swore he had the sense of humor of a twelve year old, and maybe quit growing up when he hit sixteen. Clary argued it was thirteen.

In truth, they knew that wasn’t true. Just in the last few years since they got together, they’d watched him grow up a lot. Even before that—he was a mundane, a vampire, mundane again, and survived becoming a shadowhunter. The time he was at the Academy was particularly hard for them since they were trying to bounce back from the Dark War and didn’t have him around for his stupid one liners and random comic book references they still barely understood.

“You’re staring,” he said teasingly, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to their forehead. “Am I just that handsome?”

“I will dump this hot tea in your lap.”

He laughed at their fake threat. “Yeah, yeah. You love me and you know it.”

“Unfortunately.”

“I’m wounded!”

“Out of a dating pool of anyone in the world, I had to end up with the dorkiest guy to ever…” they paused, trying to come up with a good word. “Dork, I guess.”

He laughed harder, probably noticing the fact that they were a little embarrassed about the lack of a good retort.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” They sighed and looked back out at the water. “You ever wonder what things would be like?”

“Like what?”

“Like…if Clary never saw Jace kill that demon, if we never met, if…if Johnathan never existed…”

He was quiet for a moment before turning to face them, taking the mug out of their hands and resting it in the sand next to them. He took each of their hands and sandwiched them between his. “I think there’s no point in dwelling on what happened because it did happen and nothing will change the past. But I couldn’t be prouder that you decided you were going to change your future.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“I know. You’ve told me. But you did, and you’re here. And we’re on vacation in France where I thought I’d never visit in my life, and you’re changing the shadow world—single-handedly, I made.”

They blushed lightly, eyes falling into their lap at his compliments. “Aunt Jia’s gotta approve everything.”

“But it’s your ideas. You want justice for kids like Helen and Mark who are treated like hell for being part fae and want the people that allowed Valentine to get as far as they did to get what they deserve. You’re doing good.”

They looked up after a moment, finally meeting his eyes. He looked adorable when he kept his glasses on, though he didn’t use them all the time anymore. Some runes helped to a degree, but at bedtime he usually didn’t fight with those. “You think so?”

“I know so. I see it all the time. And I know I’m not the only one.” They leaned forward, laying their head on his shoulder. He brushed his hand through their hair, playing with the strands at the back that were several months grown out but they kept forgetting to get a haircut. Maybe they’d have Isabelle do it the next time they were back home.

“I know things sucked for a while, to say the least. But, if anything, you did it. And I’m happy you did.”

“Me, too.”

They sat on the beach for a while longer, Rowan drinking their tea and Simon’s head in their lap. It was comfortable out there—the small house they rented from some mundanes for the weekend was cozy, but he was right. The fresh air was wonderful.

“You wanna tell me about the stars?”

“Why?”

“Cause you like to talk about it.”

They smiled softly down at him. “It won’t bore you?”

“It’s you. Never.”

They turned their head to the sky and went on about Orion, each of the stars inside the constellation and the story behind it. They talked about how you could see Jupiter from where they sat, and Saturn, and Mars if you squinted. They talked about mundane space travel and the myths about the planets, how they got their names, and argued that Pluto really was a planet despite what some people liked to argue. He listened with intent, smiling as they got more energetic about certain things.

Because it wasn’t boring, and he wanted to listen. He wanted to be there, otherwise he wouldn’t be.

They were both sitting on the beach, under the stars in France where five years ago, they never thought they’d be. And they loved every moment of it.

At least I'm trying

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