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Alec slowly became aware of his surroundings; the first thing he noticed was the clean stench of antiseptic and bleach. Hospital. He’d been in enough of them to recognise the smell instantly. The second thing he noticed was the burning, damn near unbearable pain in his arms. He gritted his teeth against it, trying to ignore the way his stomach churned when his dazed mind began to piece together why they hurt. The third thing he noticed was the familiar leather restraints that bound his wrists to the bedposts. He cursed himself internally. Hadn’t he sworn he would never get himself into this position again?
The sound of a door creaking inward startled Alec from his thoughts, and he opened his eyes a sliver, just enough to see a man with spiky, dark brown hair holding a clipboard and giving Alec a onceover. He looked like he was deep in thought.
“Good morning, Mr. Lightwood,” the man said, and Alec startled, twitching a little. He heard a low chuckle from his left. “No need to pretend,” the man said, and if his eyes were open, Alec was confident he’d see a little smirk on his face. “I’m fully aware you’re awake.”
Cursing the man’s observational skills, Alec grumbled to himself and reluctantly opened his eyes. The bright white lighting of the hospital blinded him momentarily, and he blinked a few times, trying to get used to his new surroundings.
Slowly, the hospital began to come into focus, white walls and an IV attached to his left arm materializing before him. He looked down and caught sight of clean, starchy white bandages wrapped around both of his arms. They were big and thick, and Alec wondered just how much damage he’d done this time. It was a thought that made him swallow hard and close his eyes again for a few seconds.
“I assume you know why you’re here,” the man spoke up from beside him. Alec turned to face him, and his breath caught in his throat. The man, whose nametag read Dr. Bane, was clad in tight blue pants, a silk shirt, and several necklaces & other jewelry. Silver dusted his eyelids, and Alec thought he caught sight of a hint of lipgloss decorating the man’s full, shimmering lips. Highlighter and blush were spread across his cheekbones, and Alec could see black eyeliner rimming interesting golden eyes that he was having a hard time looking away from.
It wasn’t a style that Alec had ever seen on another man before, but he found himself not minding it as much as he thought he would. In fact, he rather liked it.
Dr. Bane raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, and Alec realised he’d been too busy staring to respond to the doctor’s question.
“Yes,” Alec said, blowing out a hard breath. “I’m aware.”
“Good,” Dr. Bane said, and Alec was surprised by the softness of his tone. The doctor walked to Alec’s other side and fiddled with a few clamps on his IV before touching his arm gently. “Do you want something for the pain?”
“No,” Alec said, clearing his throat. “No, I’m, uh, I’m okay.”
“Okay,” Dr. Bane agreed. Then, to Alec’s surprise, he grabbed one of the chairs meant for visitors and placed it next to Alec’s bed, sitting down. “Do you have any questions?”
Alec’s eyes widened. This man was unlike any doctor he’d ever met before. He swallowed hard and avoided Dr. Bane’s eyes. He knew he had to ask. He had to know. “Who, uh, w-who found me?”
“Your sister,” Dr. Bane replied, without looking at his clipboard. “Isabelle.”
Alec exhaled heavily. That was what he’d been afraid of. He hadn’t remembered at the time, but he had a dinner date with Isabelle. Of course she’d be the one to find him, bloodied to shit and unconscious on the bathroom floor. He didn’t want her to see him like that. He’d done everything he could to keep this part of himself away from his baby sister. But now, just like everyone else in his godforsaken life, she had found out too much. Seen too much. There was no going back now. He sighed, biting his lip hard.
Dr. Bane gazed at him with a critical eye and folded his hands atop the clipboard. “How does that make you feel?”
“How do you think it makes me feel?” Alec snapped, fisting his hands in the scanty sheet that covered his waist. He fucking hated it here.
“I don’t know,” Dr. Bane said, shrugging. “That’s why I asked you.” His calmness in the face of Alec’s anger was both infuriating and refreshing, and Alec didn’t know what to do with it.
He blew out a hard breath, angling his body away from the inquisitive doctor. “It makes me feel guilty.”
“Care to elaborate on that?”
“No,” Alec bit back. “You asked; I answered.”
“Very well,” Dr. Bane said with an air of amusement. To Alec’s surprise, he still didn’t write on the clipboard, choosing instead to stare at Alec and make him wish he could fidget or squirm underneath the doctor’s heavy gaze. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t give Dr. Bane that satisfaction.
“Any more questions?” Dr. Bane asked, kohl-rimmed eyes staring straight through Alec. He swallowed hard. He wasn’t used to feeling so exposed, so transparent, so, so...understood.
“How bad?” Alec asked, screwing up his courage. “How many stitches?”
“Twenty-four,” the doctor replied gravely. “You really did a number on yourself, Mr. Lightwood.”
“Just Alec,” Alec mumbled without thinking.
“What was that?”
“Just Alec is fine,” Alec repeated, louder this time.
“Very well, Alec it is,” Dr. Bane purred. He thought for a minute, chewing his lip, and Alec saw indecision flash in his eyes. Finally, he spoke up: “You may call me Magnus.”
“Magnus,” Alec echoed, testing the name out on his tongue. He was embarrassed to admit that it sent a wave of something through him, and he blushed, biting down on his lip. It was just a name, for fuck’s sake.
“Tell me something, Alec,” Magnus drawled, and Alec tensed, bracing for the inevitable onslaught of therapist-esque questions about the feelings that led up to his actions or some other bullshit. To his surprise, that wasn’t what Magnus asked. “Is Alec short for Alexander?”
Alec raised his eyebrow. “You have my file right there.”
Magnus grinned. “Guilty as charged, Alexander.”
Ordinarily, Alec didn’t allow anyone to call him by his full name; it held too many connotations, too much history. It was infused with parental disappointment and the bitter burn of failure. But when Magnus said it, it sounded beautiful, almost magical. Alec found himself wishing he could hear it for the rest of his life.
“Your siblings are waiting outside,” Magnus informed him, and Alec twisted his hands together anxiously. To his surprise, Magnus leaned forward and placed a single, heavily ringed hand on his. “I can tell them to wait, if you’d like.”
“No, don’t bother.” Alec laughed humorlessly. “My brother will break the door down if he thinks you’re holding out on him.”
“Duly noted,” Magnus said, a hint of a smile on his face. He squeezed Alec’s hands in his own. “Is there someone else you want me to call? Someone they didn’t or wouldn’t?”
Alec frowned. “No, there’s no one.” His parents wouldn’t care, and even if they did, he didn’t want them here.
Magnus nodded and made to get up, but Alec was overwhelmed with a sudden desperation to postpone his little sister’s big brown eyes wet with tears, or Jace’s bandaged hand from where he’d sunk his fist into the wall outside. It was nice to talk with someone who didn’t think he was crazy, someone that didn’t love him and wouldn’t be visibly upset if he said something a little too suicidal, a little too self-deprecating. He had a sort of freedom that he wasn’t used to here.
He grabbed Magnus’s sleeve, pausing the doctor’s exit. Magnus raised an inquisitive eyebrow, and Alec flushed, releasing his sleeve and training his gaze on his lap.
“Is there something else?” Magnus asked. He didn’t sound impatient, like Alec had expected. Instead, he sounded almost...hopeful?
“Um, c-could you just…” Alec trailed off, gesturing at the chair perched near his bedside. The leather cuffs’ chain clinked against his bedpost, and he grimaced. He hated the reminder that his doctors thought he was a flight risk. He hated the reminder that he was one of the “crazies” that Izzy and Jace used to make fun of when they watched crime shows on TV. He hated the reminder that he was, well, him.
“Of course,” Magnus answered gracefully and without hesitation, sitting back down next to Alec. He gestured to the cuffs. “Sorry about those. We have to keep them on any patients that might be a risk to themselves or others.”
Alec nodded. “I know. This isn’t my first rodeo.”
Magnus smiled, a little ruefully. “I assumed as much.” He gestured to Alec’s arms, where the hints of other scars, years’ worth, could be seen peeking out from underneath the bandages. Alec blushed furiously and looked away.
“Hey,” Magnus said, and his tone was so firm that Alec found himself looking back over at the other man obediently. “I’m a surgeon, a pseudo-therapist, and plenty fucked up myself. I’m the last person in this hospital to judge you for something like that.”
Alec nodded a little in acceptance of Magnus’s statement, not saying anything. He didn’t think he would be able to speak over the lump in his throat. Magnus, to his credit, didn't seem like he expected an answer. Instead, he brushed the pad of his thumb over Alec’s, a swooping motion that made Alec’s heart turn somersaults.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, plunged into a comfortable silence that Alec was unwilling to break. He’d been in the hospital plenty of times over the years, and to say it wasn’t his first time in the psych ward would be an understatement. Yet, out of all of those times, he couldn’t say he’d ever been treated like this before - like someone, like a human being, like a real fucking person instead of just another statistic.
“You do realise that as long as I’m sitting in here, we’re going to have to talk,” Magnus said, smiling at Alec in an infuriatingly attractive manner and yanking him abruptly out of his thoughts.
“Shut up,” Alec mumbled. “I’m getting there.”
“Here, I’ll help you out,” Magnus said. He clasped his hands together over the clipboard again and addressed Alec head-on. “What’s your relationship with your siblings like?”
“Oh, here we go again,” Alec grumbled, and he thought he saw the corners of Magnus’s lips turn up a little.
“Hey, you chose this,” Magnus reminded him. “I can easily get up right now and - ”
“Don’t you dare,” Alec retorted. “Just give me a minute, for fuck’s sake.”
This time, Magnus definitely smiled. “Take all the time you need, Alexander. It’s not like I’m a busy man or anything.” Alec could tell he was joking, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel better about the whole situation.
Magnus made a show of tapping his watch, and Alec couldn’t help the way his lips twitched upwards at the doctor’s antics.
Alec sighed, curling his fingers inwards toward his hands and relishing the bite of nails against his palm. Something had to give. He couldn’t continue like this, devastating his siblings annually and hanging onto the illusion of happiness like it was a flimsy string meant to anchor him above water.
Maybe, just this once, just to Magnus, he could just talk.
Magnus was different. Alec felt different around him. At the very least, it could be a new start.