[moonchild] - a one-shot book

(mental) - Malec

Alec smiles, looking at the white walls. He's going to get out, he's going to escape. He's going to break out, then nothing could keep him from his family, from his Magnus. Not the idiot doctors telling him its not real, not anybody. Not those liars.

How can those precious times be fake, be fabricated? They say the the voices he hears aren't real, that Magnus isn't guiding him through his nearly solitary life in this cage, but sometimes Magnus sneaks in to be with him. Sometimes he's curled up with Alec under the sheets, and sometimes they do have sex, but they talk more often than do anything physical. Hours and hours of mindless chatter and Alec can almost recite Magnus' every word. How can this all be fake?

They tell him that Magnus Bane was a childhood friend, a boyfriend who died right in front of him. No, it's not true. Ce n'est pas vrai. Que no es verdad. No matter what language he recites it in, it's still not true. Magnus lives outside these white halls, sneaking in to visit Alec, and they're each other's everything. They whisper about Shadowhunters and demons, angels and mundanes. They might occasionally slip in a word about Alec's family, but neither of them really cares much about them. They've been in here too long for that. But everything is forgotten as they share the contents of their minds absently. They know each other inside and out, and yet Alec is never bored of those dangerous, shining eyes.

The wall though, Alec's greatest opponent, the smile that ensures his escape purses his lips in an audaciously real way, he's going to get out, and then the men in white coats won't be able to tell him that demons aren't real.

He's seen enough demons to know that they are real.