Shine Like the Moon

Untitled Part 2

It was no secret that out of all the Lightwood children (adopted included) that Alec was the least favored. Alec himself never thought this was so much as a deficit on his part; just that his younger siblings were by far the best at what they did, and were the best with seemingly little effort. Not only were they the best, but they were complete with actual personalities, instead of the soldier persona that Alec put forth as a mask.

As soon as puberty hit, Isabelle was confidently beautiful. There had been no awkward stage for her as there had been for Alec, just a smooth transition from a little girl to a gorgeous young woman. It was the type of beauty that wasn't only skin deep, but was also empowered by her pride, charm, and the knowledge that she had the ability to hold anybody's heart in her palms to do with it as she pleased.

In addition to being the most beautiful woman in the Institute (and beyond, no doubt), Isabelle was wickedly brilliant. Alec himself was smart, and could stand his ground amidst intelligent conversation, but Isabelle didn't just stand her ground. She soared above the minds of everybody she spoke to. She may not have utilized her intelligence to the obvious extent that she did with her looks, but anyone that knew her knew that the brains were there. Within the Institute, she was the one who pretty much took control of the security systems and scientific aspects of their job, having done so the second she had been granted her first rune. She remembered almost everything she read, and could apply that knowledge critically to any situation she was presented with.

Then there was Jace, who, upon living with the Lightwoods for only a week, had been hailed as the perfect son. He had the looks, the charm, the skill, and the courage. In every way that Maryse and Robert claimed Alec was lacking, Jace made up for it in spades. It didn't matter how much Alec trained or how much he improved, Jace would always be better. That had been the simple fact since Jace was ten and Alec twelve.

So much worse than being the awkward, wallpaper older brother to a gorgeous, genius young lady, people always commented on how much better Jace was than Alec. The adults, including his parents, didn't even care if Alec was in the room to hear them say so. Hell, there had been plenty of times that his parents had scolded him directly, "Why can't you be more like Jace?"

Still, as much as it had damaged him as a teenager to hear such things, to know that he was nothing compared to his younger siblings, Alec had been able to soldier on. As the years went on, Alec had thought it was an insecurity that he had long since learned - forced himself - to overcome.

They may have been better looking, had talents beyond belief, and confidence that shone so brightly that it blinded those close to them, but Alec had found his place that separated himself (at least in part) from his siblings. As Head of the Institute, his responsibilities were his own and thereby disconnected from the judgements concerning his sister and brother. It may have been a title that engendered stressed - especially when he had been only temporarily holding the position for his mother - but it had served the purpose of setting him apart.

Yet that separation meant nothing when his boyfriend was taunting him bitterly, "Why can't you be more like your siblings?"

Alec knew that the words had been said in the heat of their argument, and that Magnus hadn't meant to cut him so deeply. He had seen the sincerity in liquid, dark brown eyes as he apologized for his insensitive comment, and Alec knew that there was little he could do but forgive the man. To be honest, Alec didn't think there was anything Magnus could do that wouldn't be forgiven.

Forgiving Magnus only went so far, though, in terms of his own mental and emotional well-being. For Alec may have smiled at being called his moon, had accepted being pulled to his feet and into a warm embrace, and willingly gone to sleep beside the warlock, but in his head, all he could hear was, "Why can't you be more like your siblings?"

Because it didn't matter that the words hadn't meant to be said. It mattered that they had been said. Which meant that on some level, Magnus had been thinking about it.

Why couldn't Alec be more outgoing? Less awkward, so that he wasn't a mumbling mess of stutters as he stumbled over himself when in the High Warlock's presence. Why couldn't he be more attractive? Not lanky limbs and worn clothes. Why couldn't he be more open to new ideas and willing to have fun once in awhile? Not just someone who allowed himself to fall into place, to be the soldier that he had been molded into. Why couldn't he, in other words, not be him?