Warnings: This fiction contains sexual content, brief description of drug abuse and swearing.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Cassandra Clare and some scenes belong to the movie Transamerica.

A/N: A new story! Yay! The story is inspired after I watched the movie "Transamerica", just state here first. I hope you all can enjoy it as much as I do. I know you might be confused at the beginning, but things will be explained later as the story goes. A review would make my day :)

*The updating speed of this story might be slow, but weekly update is sure. Sometimes if the progress is faster than I planned there might be an update two to four days. Just say this in advance! I would never abandon my stories.

Prologue

The sky was pitch-black, the moon and stars were hidden behind those stormy clouds. Branches wavering through the wind, shadows under the street lames changing its form along with the movements. Robert Lightwood knocked the door couple of times and received no response. Panicking, he started banging. "Magnus Bane! Open the door, please – " He swore he had never begged anyone, but now for his family's sake, he had to.

Maryse pacing behind her husband, eyes darting around the neighborhood with alert. They had come this far, if Magnus Bane – the High Warlock of Brooklyn – didn't open his door they were going to apply a rune. No matter what they were getting into his house, with or without his consent.

Just when Robert got out his stele, a voice said behind the door. "What are two Circle members doing outside my door? I thought I've made myself clear that you're not welcome." The hostile tone didn't surprise the Lightwoods, it was obvious that Magnus and they were on two different sides. However, things were about to change.

While Robert was finding his tongue, Maryse trembled. "We're here asking for help, Warlock Bane. We didn't want to ally with Valentine anymore and run away – " Suddenly there was a roaring cry from Maryse arms, so loud that probably the whole neighborhood was awoken by it.

Then the shut door was opened by a tiny gap. They couldn't see much of the person because there was no light, only a pair of golden-green cat eyes shining in the darkness. "You have kid?" Magnus cursed himself when he held the door for them to walk in, being sympathetic was going to be the cause of his death. He wouldn't want his name went from "the most powerful warlock in the century" to "the most naïve downworlder in all generation". Nonetheless, he let them in and followed a snap of his fingers, the living room was lightened in a warm orange color by a chandelier in the middle of the ceiling.

Robert murmured a 'thank you' and closed the door firmly after Maryse hurried to the couch, started undressing. "Hold on there, what are you doing?" Magnus could see the curvy upper body covered in marks, and a while after the crying stopped, replaced by the sound of sucking. Maryse turned around and sunk herself into the couch, relaxing as breastfeeding the baby.

Eyebrows raised, Magnus rested his hands on his waist, looking at Robert. "What exactly do you want me to help?" Robert knew it was their chance, if he didn't get it they were screwed. "I know you might not believe this, but we realize how wrong we were. We didn't want our son to live in a world under a cruel authority, being brainwashed by Valentine..."

Magnus could finish rest of the story himself. The Lightwoods ran away from control of Valentine, it basically declared that they changed their stand. He knew what Valentine would do to those who betrayed him. Death was the least torturous punishment.

"So? A war is coming, and I could not guarantee your safety. You must know that there is no upper hand in this battle. Much like pulling an all-in in a poker game when you know nothing is in the rivalry's hand." Magnus explained. He could see their intention of coming here. Magnus was a respected warlock in the downworlder community, the Lightwoods observed that and they wanted his power to influence something, or at least someone.

"We're not talking about our lives, but our son's – he doesn't deserve anything of this."

Magnus turned his attention toward the quiet baby in Maryse's arms. The love in Maryse's eyes softened her image of a tough shadowhunter, and Robert's voice was filled with affection when he mentioned his boy. Magnus supposed when it came to your own blood, people would do anything to do what's the best, even if it might cost their lives.

"I'll send a fire message to my fellows reporting your situation. As for the boy…" Maryse stepped in speaking. "A mundane."

"What?" Asked Magnus. Maryse exhaled a deep breath, "He isn't marked. We want Alexander to be raised like a mundane. Stay away from the shadow world will do nothing but good to him." The boy cried out when Maryse spoke his name, one hand rested on his heart, and one clenched on Maryse's index finger.

As if they were still trying to convince themselves, Robert repeated. "It'll be the best sending him away." Magnus couldn't help but felt a sense of compassion towards the Lightwoods. Giving up your child for his future and thinking of the baby growing up without acknowledging their presences would be the most devastating thing for the parents. But the Lightwoods had made their choice. It was not his position to say anything.

Maryse waved Robert over and handed him Alexander, putting her shirt back on. The boy was asleep with a full stomach. Robert swayed a little, mumbling some lyrics of an unknown song. Maryse pocketed out a necklace, 'Lightwood' crafted delicately in the back sliver base of the sapphire pendant. She carefully put it on the boy's chubby neck, planted a kiss on his forehead.

Robert turned and dragged himself in front of Magnus. "Please get him a good family." Magnus looked at Maryse, then back at Robert. The only thing in their eyes was sorrow, which Magnus pondered if it was a good idea dropping the kid at some mundane family's house. But Robert held out his hands, pushing the peacefully sleeping baby into his chest with a force that Magnus almost got knocked over. Yet he didn't wake up.

The Lightwood boy was wrapped in a white blanket, Magnus was curious if it was the blood that made him looked like an angel. Purely black hair with a contrast of pale skin, both inherited from his parents. Stroking the red cheeks of the young Alexander, Magnus promised the Lightwoods that he would kept their baby away from the shadow world until the day death claimed his life.