A/N: Hello again :)
I know I intended this story to have only three chapters but I had a vague idea how to continue and then awesomecool30biancawriter encouraged me to write it. So here it is. Initially I wanted to follow the plot line and I know Ragnor is dead but I love that guy and in my little fanfic world he is still very much alive. Sue me.
(I hope I wasn´t too dramatic in the last paragraph)

Magnus didn´t hear nor see anything when the intruder stepped in to his apartment. He wouldn´t have noticed it if it wasn´t for the sudden drop of magical power in the surrounding area of his household, like an outage of magic. It was a vague sensation, comparable to the feeling in the pit of your stomach when the elevator landed on the main floor. It warned Magnus that the wards he had set up around his apartment were pulled down.

Magnus was more annoyed than concerned. He didn´t think that whoever broke into his apartment would be a danger to his life, unless it was Isabelle of course, threatening to kill him again for breaking up with her brother.
He didn´t think it was her though. She had seemed slightly more reasonable last time she visited. But honestly, he didn´t want to see her right now, or anyone of those teenagers. He just wanted to stay in his PJs all day, watch a bad sitcom and order in fast food.
He grumbled something under his breath as he made his way to the hallway to find his front door wide open. He sighed inwardly.

„Whoever invaded my apartment should be aware of the fact that this apartment belongs to the High Warlock of Brooklyn." he announced in his High-Warlock-voice. „You might be clever enough to trespass my wards, but you did not consider-"

„Please, your wards were easier to trespass than the vow of chestity of that young maid back in the 60s."

Magnus recognized the voice before he actually saw the speaker. Perched on the black leather sofa was a man as green as the grass in Hyde Park at a beautiful summer morning. He built a stark contrast to the currently rather acromatic living room.

„Ragnor Fell." he said, feeling both happy and annoyed to see him. „To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Ragnor shrugged. „I haven´t seen you for a long time. No letters, no calls, no fire messages at all. I wanted to make sure you weren´t dead."
Magnus flung himself on the couch next to his friend with his legs on the coffee table. „You´re making me feel very loved talking like that." he said dryly. „Then again, the last time you had a social life was in the sixties, so you must be a little rusty."
Ragnor scowled at him. „My social life is more functional than yours, by the look of things – I never forget the birthdays of my friends."
„That was only one time." Magnus said in defence. „You just have to keep bringing that up, don´t you?"
„You could have at least sent a card."
Magnus rolled his eyes. „I´m sorry, okay?"
Ragnor waved his hand dismissively. „As nice as it is to finally hear an apology from you," he said. „I think there´s something else you forgot to tell me." He folded his hands in front of his chest and looked at Magnus, his black eyes piercing.

Magnus narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He should have known that this was not going to be a nice tea party where they would reminisce about the good old times. Of course it wasn´t. But a man could hope.
„Who told you?"

Ragnor´s expression remained bland. „Raphael."

„Obviously."

„– And Catarina. Seriously, Magnus, it was bound to happen. I would say I told you so, but I guess you don´t want to hear that."
Magnus nodded expressively. He snapped his fingers and made an apple appear out of thin air and took a bite to distract himself from the bitter feelings rising up in his stomach. And what said better Who cares than absentmindedly eating an apple while checking the finger nails of his left hand?

To be honest, he hadn´t believed himself that what he had with Alec would last. He had told himself a thousand times that it was wrong being with the shadowhunter. He was everything that Magnus wasn´t: quiet, respectful, conscientious. A protector who put other people´s lives above his own. And he didn´t care about fashion. Magnus had to stop himself from smiling as he remembered an incident when Alec had asked him who the hell Marc Jacobs was and Isabelle had sighed, wondering out loud if he was really related to her after all.

But he shouldn´t think about it, not now that they were over. He often tried to think of Alec with pure anger - because it was reasonable for him to feel this way about him after what he had done - but everytime he thought of the boy he remembered his blue eyes shining with curiosity and genuine affection and he just couldn´t bring himself to be angry. That was one of the reasons he didn´t want to see Alec. If the sole memory of the shadowhunter could already cause such a pull, what would he do if he directly faced him? He probably wouldn´t be strong enough to resist and walk away a second time without kissing him. But he had to be strong. He could do without Alec, as well as Alec could do without him.

„Magnus?" Ragnor´s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. „I need you to tell me now exactly what happened. Which one of you broke up and how long did it last?"

Magnus stared.

„I asked you how -"

„I´ve heard you perfectly well the first time, thank you very much. Why by the seventeen names of Lilith do you ask me all this?" Magnus asked impatiently.
Ragnor shrugged again. „Raphael and I might have made a bet about how your relationship with that Lightwood would end. He claims he won the bet, but I have my doubts. So, I want to know if it´s true. Did you dump him or was it the other way around?"
Magnus shook his head. „I can´t believe you made a bet on my love life." he said.
Ragnor waved his hand impatiently. „Magnus, concentrate. There´s my dignity and ten dollars at stake."
Magnus glared at him. „You´re making a fuss about ten dollars?" he asked incredulously.

Ragnor blinked. „And my dignity. It would be embarassing to lose a bet against a vampire."

Magnus tried to be patient. He really did. He took a deep breath, quietly counted to ten and exhaled. When he felt better, he opened his eyes and faced the green man again.
„You know, as my friend you´re supposed to – I don´t know – support me? Tell me how great I am, that he doesn´t deserve me anyway, that I am better off without him. Things like that."
Ragnor raised his brows. „Well, I don´t know whether he deserves you or not, and you´re not that great, so I´m not gonna say that. But you are definitely better off without him. I don´t know that guy, but he´s a nephilim, so he must be impossibly ignorant, egoistic and overbearing."

„Alec is none of those things." said Magnus, without wanting to. It was like a subliminal impulse to defend him, but really, it was rather like stating the truth.

Ragnor, however, didn´t look convinced.
„Sure he is. He´s a shadowhunter. They´re all the same. They think they own the world, that everyone beside them is worth a shit. Look at where that got us. A war is coming, a war of nephilim against nephilim. And we´re in between."

„It´s not their fault." said Magnus, not really sure why he defended them. „Not all of them, anyway. There are people amongst the nephilim who don´t deserve any of this as well."

„Oh really? Name one. And if you say Alexander, I´ll need to use your bathroom and lean over the toilet for an unpleasantly long time."

Magnus wanted to scowl at him, but he didn´t have the energy. And he didn´t want Ragnor to see how bad he really felt. He would probably laugh if he knew it. Or scold him for being so foolish, which admittedly he was.
Who had he become, the great Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, that he was now sitting here, in dark shabby pajamas he had worn all day, pining over a shadowhunter. He looked at the ground and sighed.

„There´s Clary. She´s-"

„She wasn´t raised as a shadowhunter. Besides, she´s the one whose brother is the source of all the evil going on lately. That doesn´t exactly convince me."
Ragnor´s so utterly sober view of the world was often a stark contrast to Magnus´s.
It was nice to have him here, a friend to talk to, and yet, when he said things like that, he wanted him to leave.
Or punch him.

He felt a responsibility towards Clary and wanted to defend her.
No, it was more than that. She had become a real friend to him. She was the only one of the three teenagers that had come to his loft after the break-up who came not just because of Alec, but because she wanted to see how he was feeling. It meant more to him than he would admit. They meant more to him than he would admit.

„You know that´s not her fault." he said at last, trying to concentrate on the conversation instead of his gloomy thoughts.

„Perhaps." said Ragnor. „But I also know that you´ve always had a rather complicated relationship with the nephilim. And it always ended badly. I´m sorry to say this, but you should have anticipated what happened."

„I didn´t want... I..." Magnus exhaled deeply. "I thought this time it´s different. That he´s different. Because he is. But apparently it´s not enough."
Ragnor sat up and turned to look Magnus in the eyes. Which was difficult since Magnus was still staring at the floor.
„Not enough what?" Ragnor asked. He sounded very interested now and Magnus didn´t like it at all. „I don´t know. Maybe it just wasn´t meant to be."

Even though he wasn´t looking at him, Magnus knew Ragnor was raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

„...Okay? Don´t get me wrong, I agree with you, but I hadn´t expected you to realize so much yourself. Since when are you so resigned to your fate? Usually you are more stubborn. If someone tells you you can´t, you try nevertheless just to prove them wrong."

"That was me a hundred years ago." Magnus clarified. "I matured a whole lot during the twentieth century."
Ragnor didn´t say anything. Instead he looked at Magnus as if all he said was bullshit.

Magnus sat up. „I´m not resigned. It just wasn´t working. It´s not as if this is my first break-up, I´ll manage." He raised his head and finally looked his friend in the eyes, presenting the best High-Warlock face he could manage to convince him he wasn´t as lovesick as he felt.

„Are you sure?" Ragnor asked carefully. „Because you look like a sixteen year old lovesick girl. No offense."
Magnus groaned. „You´re of no help."
„If you want someone to comfort you, you should ask Catarina." Ragnor said dryly.
„I would." Magnus said in a low voice. „But she has a very busy schedule."

Ragnor was seemingly losing his patience. He noticed that from the way he was crunching with his teeth.

„Alright, alright. I´m sorry. But as you said, Magnus, this isn´t your first heartbreak. I´ve seen you moping after a break-up, drinking and crying, sometimes even laughing. I´m not saying that you always choose the wrong people to fall in love with, but you kind of do. And yet, I´ve never seen you like this. You´re – I don´t even know how to describe it – miserable? And grouchy and glitter-free and, no offense, but you reek a bit."

„None taken." Magnus said. "Or no, I´ve changed my mind. I do take offense in that."

„What´s so wrong with taking a shower?"

„Is that an offer?" Magnus winked. Ragnor laughed. „There you are again, you almost got me worrying." he thought for a moment. „You know, I probably should go see this Alec guy sometime. If he manages to bring you in this state he must be special indeed."
Magnus snorted. „Now that it´s over you´re starting to care for my relationship with Alexander?"

Ragnor grinned. „Alexander." he said. „You realize the way you just said his name?"
Magnus glared at him but he just chuckled.
„Your accent comes out more distinctly when you speak of him. We both know what that means. Boy, you are smitten."

Magnus sighed again. It seemed like he was doing that a lot lately. It wasn´t easy being separated from Alec and it was even worse to admit it.

„It´s just so hard letting him go." His voice was no more than a whisper, but Ragnor had heard him. Yes, it was hard to admit it, and yet it was a relieve to finally tell someone how he really felt. One sentence, more wasn´t necessary to let Ragnor know how serious he was. After all, they knew each other for centuries.
„Why do you do it then?" asked Ragnor.
Magnus fought the urge to sigh again. He hated being so miserable and he hated that it was partly his own fault. He hated a lot of things lately. „Because it´s the only right thing to do."

Ragnor snorted. „Since when do you care about doing the right thing? I remember you being banned from Peru for quite the opposite."
Banned from Peru. Another thing to hate. Life really sucks sometimes, he thought.

„Okay, Magnus." Ragnor said, and he didn´t sound mocking or scolding anymore. His voice became softer ever so slightly, which only happened at rare moments, when one of them was vulnerable. „You´re going to tell me now what happened."
And – with a sigh – Magnus did. He told Ragnor about the good times. Alec taming the werewolve girl without harming her, soothing her afterwards. Alec laughing at his jokes. Alec touching him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. The time with Alec in Paris, Egypt, Venice,... All those happy moments that caused Magnus´ heart to ache - and Ragnor to roll his eyes.
Then he told him about Camille´s sudden appearance and how all fell down. Alec meeting her behind his back, the lies, the wide gap that became more and more visible. The gap between Alec and him that somehow had always been there.
When he was finished, Magnus slumped down and rubbed his eyes with exhaustion. „It´s hopeless." he said. And Ragnor had nothing to say to that. Silence followed. A silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. Just silence.

Then Ragnor cleared his throat.
„According to my experience with love," Ragnor ignored the mocking scoff from Magnus. „You have two choices now: Either talk to him and give him a chance – which is not the option I recommend you to take considering this is about a nephilim – or forget about him and move on for all I care."

Magnus was speechless. Ragnor as good as never talked to him like that. It reminded him that Catarina may be the most sympathetic person of their trio, but Ragnor could be too, if absolutely necessary – and to a certain degree, at least. Most certainly, he wasn´t very good at relationship advice, so this was a milestone for Ragnor.

„I should probably talk to him." Magnus said after a while. „But I can´t see him. I just can´t."
„And why is that?" he heard the other warlock ask from beside him. Magnus took a deep breath, held it, and breathed out. „Because if I see him, I don´t know what I´ll do."
He opened his eyes again and saw Ragnor making a face. „And I don´t want to know." he said and stood up. „Alright, that was enough of heart-break and Magnus-escapades for another century. Thanks Magnus. This meeting was very insightful."

Magnus frowned, confused. „What do you mean?"

„I have to talk to Raphael. It seems as if no one of us won the bet. Apparently it´s not over yet."

Magnus smiled half-heartedly at that and watched his greenish friend walk towards the entryway of his apartment. Before he reached the door, Ragnor turned around again, as if he had forgotten something. „Oh, and if you need a friendly ear" he said "just call Catarina." he winked at him and, finally, left.

Typical, Magnus thought.

He closed his eyes again.
Eyes are, as the word is, the window to the soul. But Magnus had never been the person to show his soul to the world. It was too painful. In his soul rested things, heavy memories that he did not want to share. He could not. He simply could not unveil these things for Alec. He wouldn´t understand.
Maybe Alec believed he wanted to know everything. But the things you want aren´t necessarily the things that are good for you. And in this case it would be too much. Too much for sweet young Alec to process without changing his opinion on Magnus. No one had ever wanted to know that much about him. Magnus wasn´t willing to unlock the massive iron gate that kept his past hidden. And Alec wasn´t willing to accept that as he couldn´t accept his immortality.
They wanted different things, had incompatible expectations on their relationship. It wouldn´t have worked. The longer he thought about it the more ridiculous it sounded: A warlock falling in love with a nephilim. The mortal and the immortal. Both coming from different societies that loathed each other. It hadn´t ended happily for Romeo and Juliet and it hadn´t for Magnus and Alec. It was a tragic circle of doomed love. Some people just weren´t destined to live a happily-ever-after.
Magnus had long ago come to the conclusion that he belonged to this group of people. He didn´t want to drag Alec into this too.

Forget about him, Ragnor had said. But how could he? Under no circumstances could he forget the beautiful blue-eyed boy that owned his heart.
So what should he do?