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If I Catch Fire, Then I'll Change My Aim

Summary:

“Go away, Lightwood.”

“You’re not a monster.” he says and he means it. Alastair’s skin is colder than death in his hand. “I was wrong. My friends were wrong. All those years. You’re a bully. And a snob. And a complete asshole. But you’re not one of them.”

Alastair tries to jerk his face away but Thomas is quicker than him. He opens his eyes and they’re pools of black and pain, pain that Thomas has always ignored. But he can’t now. Not when it’s staring him down.

The fire blows back. Thomas can’t stand it.

Notes:

If you've never read the Simon Snow Series by Rainbow Rowell, this fic probably won't make any sense at all. That being said, please read it because it's so good and was the hyperfixation that made up most of my middle and high school career

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

Work Text:

They’d been driving for what seemed like forever at this point, but they were finally in the countryside and Alastair could stop using Thomas’s magic.

 

But Alastair hasn’t stopped driving.

 

He keeps turning into smaller and smaller roads until he suddenly hits the breaks, jerking them both forward. Alastair parks the car halfway into a ditch and runs out of the car towards the trees surrounding them. Thomas grabs the keys and follows him, past the tree line, until he trips over a branch in the darkness.

 

“Alastair!” he shouts “Alastair!”

 

He trips again, stumbling against a tree.

 

Alastair!” There’s a blaze of fire ahead of him, deeper into the trees. Shit.

 

“Fuck off, Lightwood!” Thomas hears him yell. He takes off towards his voice and the light that follows.

 

Another shot of fire, this time is ends up on a branch, illuminating Alastair’s hiding place. He was sitting under a tree, head in hands, knees drawn up to his chest.

 

What was he doing? Playing with fire? He’s extremely flammable, has he forgotten?

 

“What are you doing?” he yells desperately. “Put. It. Out.”

 

Alastair doesn’t answer. He’s shaking so hard. And it wasn’t because of the bitter cold surrounding them.

 

“Alastair, it’s all right. We’ll get the name from someone else, we don’t need Jesse. This isn’t over. We’re going to do what your father asked us to.”

 

Alastair swings his wand and growls in frustration, spraying more fire around them. “This is what my father would want for me, you idiot.”

 

Thomas drops to his knees in front of him, deciding not to risk his fire by touching him. “What are you even talking about?”

 

Alastair sneers at him, baring all his teeth, needle sharp fangs and all. “My father died killing vampires,” he says. “And when they bit him, he killed himself. It’s the last thing he did. If he knew what I am…He would never have let me live.”

 

Thomas is dumbfounded. That couldn’t be true.

 

“That’s not true. He loved you. He called you his ‘rosebud boy’.”

 

“He loved what I was!” he shouts back. “I’m not that boy anymore, I’m one of them now.”

 

“You’re not.”

 

“Haven’t you and your little band of thieves been trying to prove I’m a monster since we were ten? Crowley, Lightwood, you have your proof now! Go tell the Headmistress-tell everyone for all I care, that you were right.” Alastair’s tone was laced with venom. His face is dancing in the firelight. Thomas can’t help but think that he looks beautiful. “I’m a vampire, Lightwood! Are you happy now?”

 

“You’re not,” he says and he doesn’t know why. And he doesn’t know why he has started crying either.

 

Alastair looks surprised. And irritated. All at the same time, as complex as ever. “What?”

 

“You’ve never bitten anyone.”

 

“Fuck. Off.”

 

“No!”

 

Alastair’s head drops into his arms again and he groans. “Seriously. Just go. This fire isn’t for you.”

 

Thomas grabs his wrists and pulls. “That’s right, it can’t be. You always said you’d make sure there was an audience there when you finished me off.” he pulls on him again. And again. “Come on.”

 

He wants to put magic behind those words. But that isn’t fair. Not to Alastair.

 

Alastair doesn’t fight him, he just slumps forward, like he’s already dead. Well, Thomas supposed he was. Vampires were undead creatures after all. A cloud of sparks settles near him, and Thomas growls at them, making them blow out.

 

He lifts up Alastair’s chin, hoping for a reaction. “Alastair.”

 

“Go away, Lightwood.”

 

“You’re not a monster.” he says and he means it. Alastair’s skin is colder than death in his hand. “I was wrong. My friends were wrong. All those years. You’re a bully. And a snob. And a complete asshole. But you’re not one of them.”

 

Alastair tries to jerk his face away but Thomas is quicker than him. He opens his eyes and they’re pools of black and pain, pain that Thomas has always ignored. But he can’t now. Not when it’s staring him down.

 

The fire blows back. Thomas can’t stand it.

 

“This is what I deserve.” Alastair says.

 

Thomas shakes his head. “Well, it isn’t what I deserve.”

 

“Then go.”

 

He can see the fire flickering in Alastair’s eyes, which means it was surrounding them now. They had no place to run now.

 

“I won’t.” he says. “I’ve never turned my back on you. And I’m not starting now.

 

Alastair looks at him, broken, his wand in his hand.

 

Thomas keeps talking, but Alastair looks like he can’t hear him anymore. Like he stopped listening completely. He hates seeing him look like that.

 

“Thomas,” Alastair whispers.

 

And then Thomas kisses him.

Notes:

If you like this and want to check out more of my works, go check out my Tumblr @lifewouldbebetteronmars