Overwhelmed [3] 《SHADOWHUNTERS》

Chapter Thirty-Four

Evening blurred into pitch-black morning, the Lightwood clan pinned by a strangled fear of the unknown. The loss of Max had crushed them into smithereens, incapable of regrouping to make sense of the events that had torn through them. Occasionally, an overworked and blood-stained Junior Medic would pass them by in the waiting room and mention how "luck" had brought them this far. It tempted the mind to go sour with the bitterness it left in their throats when others were given certainty; would it ease the tension against their hearts to know Jace was gone, and would not be brought back?

Clary and Simon had fallen together awkwardly against the cold wall beside the window, their shoulders a needed reminder that they weren't alone. Neither believed they were a proper support for the broken family, but as the clock ticked on in the shadows it became obvious that their parents were not going to reveal themselves. Estranged as they may have been, Robert and Maryse had both devoted their strength to the protection of Idris' vulnerable borders to escape the reality of the previous day. It offered a painful insight into their children's own proclivity to avoid intimate truths.

Andina had been restless, understandably so; fidgeting in place, swapping chairs, staring blankly, trying to find solace out of the window, glaring at the ceiling tiles – it got tiresome to watch and Isabelle's grief had lulled her into sleep with her neck in an impossibly-comfortable slump over the back of the plastic chair. Alec had retained some semblance of stillness, until Magnus had been called out for the fourth time in an hour to assist with something: wards, healing, sensing injuries on the unconscious – Alec selfishly felt like none of it mattered when he couldn't keep his own molars from cracking in the back of his mouth. He'd tried to sit next to Andy. He'd tried to take a walk around the hall. He'd tried water, washing his face, thought about finding the roof of the building before it all overwhelmed him and he sunk to the floor beside the grey counters, pulling his knees up to his chest and staring.

They were all fighting sleep when light flooded the room, arcing from one of the double doors that led out of that heavy room. Heads lifted, all but Isabelle stirred to take in the figure that their eyes had to adjust to. Magnus had returned after nearly an hour, a brown paper bag hanging from his grasp as he balanced a drink carrier against his chest. He juggled to close the door behind him, dampening the repetitive beeping of machines from further down the hall before Simon could get up to help him.

The warlock accepted the vampire's open arms when he was near and passed off the collection of coffee that was beginning to burn his palm. "High Warlock of France was kind enough to arrange some rations from the party he had to leave behind," Magnus muttered with a gratefulness softening his tone, but the warm smile he had greeted the room with was a quickly slipping mask. His gaze passed Simon and took in the state of his loved ones and those he had taken under his care much more than he ever meant to. Andina and Alec's gazes had already left him – while his absence may have been difficult, his presence did not serve to solve anything.

Clary caught Magnus' eyes, a similar discontented frown reflected on her stained cheeks. He felt prompted to ask Simon, near a whisper, "Any changes?" His chin turned down as the vampire's expression twisted into a wince, looking over at a dozing Izzy. Simon's head shook and a sigh escaped him before he left to offer Clary a warm cup to focus her attention on.

They all knew better than to bother the grieving family with food or drink, simply depositing each on the countertop. Simon returned to his spot beside Clary, and not a beat was skipped as her head laid to the side and he slumped himself into the chair so his shoulder was low enough to catch her comfortably.

Magnus was left to fret over his pair of broken souls, both separated on opposite corners of the room. His heart turned with a struggle he hadn't expected, but he knew deep down that neither of them wanted him too near. They'd strayed from his touches after the first hour, bodies too disjointed to find comfort from the stimulus.