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English
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Part 1 of you are my unfinished business
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Published:
2023-07-01
Updated:
2024-04-27
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22,821
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7/?
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you are my unfinished business part 1: afterglow

Summary:

Between the Coda and Epilogue of Chain of Thorns, we see that a lot has shifted and settled between the main cast. What could have kept them in London: James and Cordelia still not having had their honeymoon, Matthew keeping a distance from Cordelia? More than Lucie and Cordelia's parabatai training, Grace somehow working her way into the group (and James forgiving her?) and the Fairchilds' household, a lot of healing and restructuring of relationships and worldviews occurs during this time. It's not easy being a Shadowhunter, even less so when you grieve as someone who loves harder than most, when you're part warlock but have lost your powers, when you're expected to keep going on as normal after abuse and addiction and loss, when you don't have the words for neurodivergence and mental illness much less therapy and someone to help you--and those around you--live life as fully as you can in light of it.

But one thing that you do have is stubbornness. Dead or alive, you're going to do what it takes so you and your friends can thrive.

Notes:

afterglow is part one of a series, like a little novel broken up into parts. afterglow and comedown take place between the final battle and the epilogue (afterglow including the coda, comedown including lucelia's parabatai ceremony). superbloom occurs post-coda. afterglow is taken from the taylor swift song (2019); comedown from the luke hemmings song (2021), and superbloom from the ashton irwin album (2020).

'you are my unfinished business' is a quote from christopher lightwood. because we didn't expect his business to really be finished with that one visit to grace in henry's laboratory did we?

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: prologue

Chapter Text

p r o l o g u e

Christopher Lightwood was a scientist, and he observed things. When he was a child he had observed his uncle Henry in his laboratory mixing things together, and was first struck by conviction: I am meant to be doing that. He loved the feeling of invention, the feeling of possibility and wonder. He loved how he could lose himself in a method, in the tedious steps that together would make up a new way of putting the universe together and yield results no one had ever seen before. Of course, often the thing no one had seen before was just different coloured explosions. He supposed someone else might grow impatient with the lack of results, but Kit had never felt that. He found that doing nothing new was the most frustrating experience of all, and after all, he had started his scientific career by knocking down a wall in the Fairchilds’ house. And that was just the first of what some might consider failures. He had a lot of experience with patience.

Yet the summer had brought something new to him: an invention that had not only worked, but saved countless lives, including his own. He wasn’t one to relish praise like Matthew, but the satisfaction of having made a difference warmed his soul. It quietened his worries when he wondered if he should spend more time in the training room like the other Shadowhunters. He had a purpose, and a useful one at that. And being recognised was just the cherry on top.

Christopher thought suddenly of the event that had prompted his need to use his interest in science to help others. It was a fuzzy memory, but he had recalled it so many times over the years that he was sure he remembered the important parts. It was when he first realised the world could be a cruel place where pain wasn’t so easily fixed. It was when he had learned his cousin Jesse had died. He remembered the twisting of his stomach at the sound of the pain in his father and his uncle Gideon’s voices; he remembered his father’s sobs when he spoke of how his aunt Tatiana wouldn’t let them do anything to comfort her, but instead withdrawn, cold, bitter and vengeful. Christopher hadn’t known what that meant at the time, having only known kindness. But that had been years ago. In the last four months especially he’d applied his observational mind to people—since James had been in love and he hadn’t known it—and now he fancied himself almost as good at reading people as his sister Anna.
And he saw a trace of that bitterness in James.

It was ironic, really, how in the end his inventions had helped Jesse. Christopher was still reeling from the shock he felt when the green-eyed boy sitting next to Lucie in the Institute had introduced himself as Jesse Blackthorn. And when Lucie had pulled him aside after the meeting with all their aunts and uncles, and confessed she’d lied to him about making a beauty potion and all the ingredients she’d asked for had been for Jesse. And whatever she’d done had been successful: she’d brought him back to life. Or he apparently hadn’t been properly dead to begin with? Christopher longed to investigate how that could be possible.

But now his attention was on James. He’d come straight to Curzon Street when Lucie’s letter had arrived at the Fairchilds’ London house where he and Thomas had been further working on his fire messaging project. James had just received the second semi-successful fire message ever and Christopher longed to gush about that with his friend. When he was passionate about something he could talk about it through a fire or a demon attack—he’d done both on multiple occasions—but the words died on his tongue at the look on James’ face answering the door. Instead, he’d simply taken note of the doily he'd destroyed and stumbled over his words and now they were upstairs in the armchairs in James and Cordelia’s study. He felt the familiar ache in his chest he associated with conflict between the brothers closest to his heart. And he’d messed up already: James thought he and Thomas had done this simply for information, like he and Math were some sort of science project they needed to collect data for. Christopher couldn’t have James think of their friendship like that.

“It’s not like that—” Angel, no matter how much attention he’d paid it since the summer, talking about feelings was much more delicate a tool than any he had worked with—“we’re the Merry Thieves, one for all, and all for one—”

“I think that’s the Three Musketeers,” James interrupted, and was Christopher imagining it or did his shoulders relax ever so slightly? Maybe it was wishful thinking, book references usually cheered James up, but now…

“There were four musketeers, if you count D’Artagnan.” He didn’t even know why James looked so awful, but failing to think about a metaphor long enough to figure out its relevance was a bad sign. Christopher vaguely heard James say his name, exasperated, as he took a breath to calm his thoughts and approach the issue more directly.

“We’ve never had a fight,” he began. Saying it out loud felt like announcing some very important science was no longer at their disposal: the age of blissful childhood was over, and now they had to join the real world where happiness was sparse and time or money spent on anything had to be accounted for. Still, he forced himself to keep going. “I mean, none of us with each other, at least nothing serious. If you’ve had a falling-out with Math—” he knew he was diving into unknown territory now, a project that couldn’t be solved by science and magic, but who would he be if he didn’t try? He felt his voice lower to a whisper, “we want to help repair it. We need each other, especially now.”

“Oh, Kit.” James shut his eyes and shifted in his seat, before suddenly relaxing again as if he’d thought of getting up and decided against it. “Math and I are not at each other’s throats. It’s not like that. Nor are either of us angry with Cordelia, or she with us. Things between us are just—” he put his face in his hands for a moment then opened his eyes again— “complicated.”

“We need Cordelia too,” Christopher said, and then they were talking about Belial and Lilith again like they were ordinary Shadowhunters trying to protect their city and the ones they loved. James still looked haunted when he talked about Jesse—Christopher still found it hard to believe his enigmatic cousin was alive, he’d met him, all thanks to Lucie—but he managed to get up to write some messages. Even if he didn’t share Christopher’s enthusiasm for the opportunity to utilise his fire messaging project, their banter felt almost normal. Still, Christopher had arrived with something to do, and he was going to properly attempt that conversation. The way he hadn’t had a chance to ask Thomas about the letter he’d written to Alastair when the two of them had come to see him and explain it yesterday morning, but the way he thought he had gotten across to Grace that she hadn’t been forgotten when he went to see her immediately after. He wanted to show that kind of friendship to James, too.

“Why are you writing to Lucie and Jesse?” James asked. Christopher stopped writing mid-sentence and stared at him. Had he done something wrong? “I’m staying at the Institute,” James clarified. “I have to head over before sunset, I’m just here to get my things.”

“Oh, I can help with that,” Christopher said. He quickly sent the unfinished letter to the Institute as a fire message (after all, none of them had stayed complete when they arrived, so why should they need to start complete?) before James could complain about him setting fires in his house, and started on a letter to Cordelia and Alastair. James stared at him but turned back to his writing once the flames were gone. Christopher decided it wouldn’t do any harm to let the rest of the messages be taken by runners instead.

“All done,” he said to James, who took the pile of letters and went to find some coins. Then, remembering his previous offer, he added, “What do you need for the Institute? Socks? Books? Spectacles?”
“I’ll do—” James broke off, then ran his free hand through his hair as he turned around to look at Kit. “You’re right, Kit. You know me. And right now I can’t even find any—I’ll have to ask Effie—” he sighed and closed his eyes. “Thank you, Kit. I’m sorry. I’ve been so rude and you’ve been so kind, coming over and offering to help.”

Kit was already scanning the room for James’ favourites, he swept them into a pile on the table next to his reading glasses and their discarded ink and notepaper. James was still rummaging through the drawers, for money apparently, Christopher reaching into his pocket and added a shilling to the pile.

“James, it’s okay. I’ve got it all here.” He held up the coin and tried desperately to think of what his mother would say. “I know you’d appreciate it, that’s what friends are for. And you weren’t rude, not really, well if you were it just means—” James was staring at him now, not even bothering to close the drawer he was looking in. “I just wanted to know if you’re okay. And I can see that you’re not, and I wish you would let us help, but we can’t unless you’d tell me why.” There. He’d said it, and he thought he hadn’t done too badly. Christopher smiled a little to himself: a success was still a success, no matter how dire the circumstances.

“I’ve done something awful,” said James. “I’ve hurt Cordelia—why couldn’t I just tell her I loved her as soon as I knew? And I’ve failed Matthew and hurt him too in my negligence. He’s suffered so much—I had no idea just how bad it was until now—and I now have a chance to make it up to him. But the prospect of doing that all alone, without Daisy—”

“You won’t ever be alone, James, you have Tom and I and Anna and Lucie and Daisy does care about you as a friend at the very least. Shall I carry this downstairs?”

James nodded blankly and Christopher noted the hunch in his shoulders as he turned to exit the room. He shouted some things to Effie and thanked her for taking care of the house before turning to Kit.
“Thank you. It is easy to forget sometimes. I am lucky, I suppose. But Daisy, I don’t know if I could ever go back to seeing her as a friend only, or if I ever did, Kit, I don’t know how to assume how all-consuming it is and you don’t have to understand it, I know you’ve never been in love but I hope when you are that it isn’t nearly so complicated—Kit, have you been in love?”

Christopher thought of the Curies, a couple in love he’d longed to one day live up to, which made him think about his purpose and the science that he did. It really made his soul feel complete, but James wasn’t talking about being in love with the life he lived, but someone. He thought suddenly of Grace reading his notes and wondered—but wasn’t Grace in love with James, and him her? People could change, he supposed, but hadn’t James said he never saw Cordelia as a friend or had Christopher put his words together wrong, like he did sometimes?

“You’re not in love with Grace then?”

“No, by the Angel, not Grace, I can’t believe—” He broke off again and Kit noticed the panic in his voice. He shuffled his pile of James’ belongings into one hand and reached out awkwardly to touch his friend’s shoulder. “It’s okay, we’ll work it out, I know you can do what you need to do and I know that I believe in you every step of the way, it might take several attempts but things work out alright eventually.” He thought that was something Henry would say to him in context of laboratory experiments but it was all the same wasn’t it?

As if James’ arms, which had been frozen at his sides, were suddenly released from a spell, he reached up to hug Christopher. “You and Tom always know what to do. You’ve been keeping Math and I in line long before we knew we needed it. You’ve always believed in us far too much.”

Christopher would take these words to heart when he saw Thomas with Alastair in the library. Life and love were complex, but they would work it out. And when Grace confessed to him and Cordelia, she said it was because of his simple belief in her to be able to put things right she had been able to do it. Maybe it was possible to combine more than just science and magic. Maybe he could expand his purpose in life: after all, what good was the work he did to help others without friendship to be able to reach the people he wanted to help to start with, and find people he could make discoveries with to be an even better scientist?