Fading Scars: A Series of Malec One Shots

Winter's End

Part 4 of 4 of Four Seasons

Winter. My least favourite of the seasons. Yes, the city looked beautiful under a pile of crystal diamonds that fell from the sky but it was also the time where bad things always happened to me.

Allow me to explain. When I say "bad things" I mean that my life is flipped upside down mostly during the winter season. For example, in 1530 my favorite horse that I won in a card game took ill with a sickness and died suddenly. In 1697, the woman I had brought home one night was murdered in her own home, and I was the last person to see her thus the murder was almost pinned on me. I'm a very unlucky guy.

Alec was the only lucky thing to ever have happened to me. The boys were my lucky things too, they were now 20 (Rafael) and 18 (Max) but Alec was my first; my first of many new things. He seemed to have changed my luck around. Every winter so far has been a good one. No incidents, no murders pinned on me. Not a thing.

Max and Rafael were outside having a snowball fight as they waited for Alec and I to get ready to go to the institute. Clary was hosting a small family get together with the family, which was something she did every second Thursday of the month. Jace was out on patrol without Alec, just a routine check before heading to the get together. He said he didn't need Alec to come along, even when Alec insisted they go together. Parabatais should never go out alone. But this was Jace. He's stubborn and headstrong.

Alec was in the kitchen taking the casserole out of the oven when I heard a scream. It wasn't a frightened scream; there's a difference. So I rushed into the room to see Alec on the floor, a hand pressed against his hip as he writhed in pain and wheezed for air. I knew then and there that this could only mean one thing.

Jace was dead.

The pool of blood that seeped out onto the floor under him meant that his parabatai rune had faded to a pale, white scar. He screamed again. The sound....my god, the sound was awful. I can remember it as clear as day as if it just happened moments ago. It was like someone was pressing a hot poker into his skin and torturing him with it.

I fell to my knees beside him and placed his head on my lap, cradling it. He began to sob and sputter, trying to create a coherent sentence but he ended up mumbling Jace's name over and over. The boys had rushed in at this point, and seeing their father on the floor with bloodstained clothes made them fall silent. They both knew what happened. It was only a matter of time before one of them was going to pass before the other. We just didn't know which one it was going to be.

The funeral was held the day after. Unlike mundanes, Shadowhunters didn't fool around when it came to their dead. They didn't have an open casket or have people visit the family of the deceased or any of that funny business. Jace died a warrior's death. He was killed in combat by a rogue werewolf. I was told by a Silent Brother that Jace's throat had been ripped out and the wolf showed no mercy. This explained why Alec couldn't breathe when it happened. He could feel Jace struggling for air.

We didn't stay long. The council set fire to Jace's body, and that's all I can recall even to this day. Alec didn't want to stick around any longer than he needed to. Not even to hug the rest of his family. They were all there; Clary and her son, Isabelle and her husband Simon (the once mundane turned vampire turned mundane turned Shadowhunter. It's complicated) and even old Maryse Lightwood was there. Her husband Robert had passed away a few years ago, which is a story I failed to tell but to be completely honest, there's not a whole lot to tell. He died of a heart attack. Plain and simple.

Winter grew very dark from that point on. Rafael moved to Idris to train young Shadowhunters. Max got his own apartment next to his restaurant and continued to work there. Alec....my dear Alec. I'm not sure where we went wrong. I watched as the life drained from your eyes and your soul shatter into a million pieces and not even the most powerful magic could mend you. There's no spell for a broken heart. Just time.