adversity 

noun | ad - ver - suh - tee | meaning - a state or instance of serious or continued difficulty or misfortune 

chapter fourteen 

It hadn't taken very long for the police precinct to become swarmed with demons. To the mundanes there, the demons blended in with the other police officers surrounding the building and trying to figure out what had caused the power outage, but Beckett saw right through their disguise and into their monstrous faces. With this many demons, he knew it wasn't going to be easy for Clary and the others to sneak the mortal cup back to the institute now. He also knew he would have to keep a low profile because even if he reunited with Luke, who also had the advantage of being a werewolf with shadowhunter training, the two of them would never be able to take on this many demons. 

Trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible, Beckett Jackson slipped out the front doors of the police precinct, getting past a few demons as he did so. He did his best to keep his head down and become as invisible as he could in his police uniform. As badly as he wanted to rush and find Clary, he didn't want to lead any demons to her. So, instead, he tried his best to follow her scent as nonchalantly as possible. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait too long to lock in on her location. It didn't help his nerves, though, when he followed it to the entrance of the unsafe underground tunnels of New York. 

Beckett figured -- or more so hoped -- that the quartet of shadowhunters must've deduced that continuing along the streets of New York wouldn't get them anywhere seeing as Demon's were coming in from just about every other direction, but if they got cornered in the tunnels they'd be in just as bad shape. Luckily for them, Beckett had no intentions of letting that happen to Clary. Silently, he put his palm against the service door leading to the tunnels and pushed it open. 

To most people, the underground tunnels would've been dark. However, Beckett had supernatural sight on his side, along with his department-issued flashlight that he cared with him when he was on duty. With that and his gun in his hands, Beckett slowly proceeded through the tunnels. A part of him thought about turning into a wolf, but that wasn't always the most convenient when it came to him being on duty and when in such a confined space, so he figured that until the moment arose that he had to change, he would just stay in this form. 

For the first few moments Beckett walked carefully through crushing silence. Then, in the distance, he caught the sound of something awfully similar to a struggle. His gun and flashlight still held carefully in his hands, he proceeded through the chambers with a heightened guard and fast-moving feet. 

When Beckett got to the end of the industrial hallway, what he found was a small opening, not big enough for much more then a few shax demons to fit into in order to attack a Shadowhunter, which just so happened to be exactly what was occurring.

The shadowhunter --who of course just had to be Alec  -- in question unsurprisingly seemed to have everything under control. He had his bow in his hands and one shot after another, notched and delivered an arrow directly into each of the demons who then proceeded to disintegrate on the spot.

 Alec, while being overwhelmed by shax demons, was surprisingly unphased by his situation. Beckett thought for a moment that he should just sit back and allow the shadowhunter do what he wanted, but then he noticed a shax demon crawling on the ceiling, right in Alec's blindspot. Still unseen by Alec, Beckett rose the gun in his hands expertly, his eyes narrowing as he honed in on the demon. The creature snuck closer to Alec, but it never got to it's victim as a single gun shot rang through the tunnels. 

With a painful sounding squelch, the creature fell to the ground. 

The bullet, being a creation of the mundane world, didn't kill the demon. However, it stunned and injured the creature just long enough for Alec to turn on his heels and send a arrow right threw it, vanquishing the last demon. 

Alec looked around hastily, making sure there were no other deadly creatures inhabiting the tunnels. When he was sure they were secure, he finally allowed his gaze to fall onto Beckett. 

"I had it covered," Alec announced. Beckett found it an odd way to offer thanks, but he accepted it none the less. 

"Well, yeah. Obviously," Beckett agreed, stepping a bit more into the dim lights of the underground room. "I just was tired of standing there and looking pretty," he explained further, sarcasm lacing masterfully lacing through his words. 

"Right," Alec noted. 

Alec's gaze dropped once again, and Beckett realized that the shadowhunter that had just confidently been taking out one demon after another, was shifting uncomfortably in front of him. This, consequently, made Beckett feel self-conscious of their conversation not long ago that involved Beckett pouring his heart out and reopening wounds he had tried to forget about. Beckett was suddenly desperate to get his mind of the subject, of the new vulnerability he felt with Alec, and so the werewolf cleared his throat. 

"Where are Clary and the others?" He questioned.

Alec motioned down a tunnel. "They made a run for the institute while I held off the shax demons," He answered. 

Noble, Beckett thought, but he refused to say so out loud. He'd said enough touchy-feely things in the past twenty-four hours to last him the rest of the year. So instead, Beckett checked the ammunition left in his gun before continuing to head towards the tunnel that Alec had nodded towards. 

"Coming?" Beckett asked over his shoulder, not quite putting in the effort of looking back at Alec. He heard Alec murmur a response and then felt his presence following closely behind him, so Beckett supposed that was his answer. 

After years of fumbling through heartbreak and heartache, Beckett Jackson felt as though he was something of a master at the whole 'fake it till you make it' concept. He should've felt extra secure in pretending that he was completely unbothered -- which he usually was-- as they walked through the dark tunnels with shadows helping hide the expressions on his face and distant squeaking noises covering the sound of his pounding heart. 

However, secure in hiding his emotions is not what Beckett currently was feeling. Try as he may, Beckett still felt completely exposed to the world. Not only because he was with Alec, who had found out more about him in the past week then most people could figure out in a life time, but also because every time he closed his eyes he was reliving his vision with Jonas in the stables. The shadows bending the shapes around them didn't help Beckett differentiate if what he was seeing was fact or fiction, and he wondered when he was ever going to feel normal again. 

Beckett also wondered if Alec could tell he was overthinking every passing moment. He was sure he had made himself completely vulnerable to the shadowhunter and he had been avoiding thinking about how uncomfortable it would be for them, but walking through tight tunnels together made it hard to avoid those emotions. 

Now, Beckett was involuntarily wondering how long it would wake for his heart to beat at a normal rate again when he was in the same room as Alec. His mouth felt uncomfortably dry and Beckett had to fight the urge to look back at Alec to try to see if he could figure out his emotions. 

The static of the radio attached to Beckett's uniform cut through the silence that had been wrapped tightly around the shadowhunter and the werewolf. Beckett stopped abruptly, and Alec almost ran into him. Beckett heart was once again performing an irritating musical number against his eardrums as he realized how close Alec was to him now. As if reading his thoughts, Alec took a small step backwards. 

"Can't you turn that thing off," Alec asked, referring to the walkie-talkie. 

"No," Beckett responded swiftly. He gave Alec a side-glance only to see the shadowhunter was frowning at the response. Beckett shrugged. "Technically, I'm on duty right now. I've worked too hard to get this job to get fired because I turned off my damn radio." 

Alec didn't have a response to this, mostly because he couldn't comprehend how Beckett could possibly maneuver having a complicated downworlder life and mundane life. Instead, he did the very thing he had been trying not to do, he studied Beckett's profile. The werewolf wasn't entirely facing Alec, but Alec didn't need him to. His gaze combed over Beckett's face and took in everything he could: his tight jaw that seemed to be expertly chiseled, the beads of sweat forming under Beckett's mop of curls, the way his eyebrows furrowed in towards each other as Beckett thought, these were all things Alec mentally took note of to overanalyze once he got back to the institute. 

For now, though, Alec just watched as Beckett grabbed his radio and held it in his hand. Alec wanted to keep moving, but he didn't say that to Beckett. He just watched and waited as the werewolf waited for another call, probably hoping the next one would be clearer. 

"Officer Jackson?" A voice crackled to life over the radio. Alec was surprised that it worked well enough to get a somewhat clear message through. 

"Luke," Beckett noted. He then held down the button on the radio to respond, "This is Jackson." 

"I just dispatched another... unit to you to help with your load," Luke's voice was oozing of a hidden meaning Alec couldn't place. He watched as an unreadable emotion flickered across Beckett's face. 

He found himself desperately wanting to know what was going on in Beckett's mind, but then hurried to shake off that yearning. The thing was, he couldn't shake it. He hadn't been able to get rid of the thought since Beckett had bared his deepest secrets to Alec. And that still wasn't enough for Alec, he needed more. Maybe it was because he saw so many similarities between Beckett and himself, or maybe it was because there was still so much to Beckett that Alec didn't understand. 

"Copy," Beckett said into the radio. Then he slipped it back into it's holder. 

Alec had expected more of an exchange, but then realized that was a foolish thing to have expected from Beckett. It seemed as though On-Duty Officer Jackson was somehow even more unreadable then werewolf Beckett Jackson. 

Beckett finally allowed his eyes to lock onto Alec's. Even in the horrible lighting, they both knew they were looking directly into the others eyes, and for the first time since Magnus's, neither of them tried to advert their gaze. Beckett did, however, manage to startle Alec by clearing his throat. 

"The units Luke mentioned, that's his pack," Beckett frowned at his own words. "Our pack," He corrected, but he didn't look any happier with the thought. "He's sending them to help protect Clary. If there are any other demons around, they'll handle them." 

A new question surfaced Alec's mind that he wanted to ask Beckett, this one pertaining to his status as a new member of the pack, but he held his tongue. 

"We should still keep moving," Alec suggested. 

Beckett's gaze didn't fall when Alec spoke. Instead they moved over Alec's face, and the hunter was hyperaware of the fact that Beckett was trying just as hard as he had been earlier to figure out what Alec was thinking. It was an impossible task, though, because Alec didn't know what he was thinking other then the fact that he really, really hope that they didn't stumble upon Jace and the others just yet. Why that was, Alec couldn't quite figure out. 

"Let's go," Beckett eventually agreed. His gun was back out. His flashlight was pointing in front of them once again. 

The pair once again moved in silence, and it was only mostly because they were listening for the others. Magnus would surely be disappointed (but probably not surprised) that neither wolf nor hunter could muster up the courage to address what they were thinking. 

Beckett suddenly changed directions, his gun cocked a little more firmly. Alec was about to question why he had done so, and then remembered that he was traveling with a werewolf with heightened senses. On top of that, Beckett probably had memorized Clary's scent a long time ago. Alec found himself trusting Beckett completely as he led them through a new passageway. 

The entered a new room, one wider and slightly better lit then the halls they had been weaving through. Beckett turned off his flashlight and lowered his gun, and Alec quickly understood why. 

"Clary," Beckett called out, his voice somehow simultaneously powerful and soft. 

The fiery-haired girl quickly turned to them. Her eyes were wide, filled with something that wasn't quite fear. As if on instinct, she raised her hand and held a seraph blade in front of her defensively. Seeing her do so made Beckett feel just a little bit uneasy, but he quickly masked that from the shadowhunters. 

"Get back!" Clary demanded. "How do I know you're really Beckett?" 

Despite their situation, a ghost of a smile tugged at Beckett's lips. "The first time your mom asked me to babysit you, I let you cut your own bangs," Beckett offered as a means to identify himself. As Clary began to lower the blade, he added, "I don't think your mother ever fully forgave me for that." 

Clary let out a relieved breathe and finally put the seraph blade down, but not away, Beckett noted. He didn't know entirely what to feel about seeing the girl adapting so quickly to a shadowhunter weapon, so he chose to ignore it altogether. 

"What happened?" Beckett asked. Both he and Alec moved in unison until they were standing in front of Clary. 

"Uh, demons," Clary explained. Her eyes darted around as if she thought there might still be some of the hellish creatures lurking in the shadows. She had good instincts. "It's a long story. Where did you come from." 

Beckett straightened his uniform. "I was working," he deadpanned. 

"I thought you still technically were," Alec murmured. Beckett was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to hear the remark, but he still shot Alec a look. Clary didn't seem to notice the exchange. 

"I caught your scent and figured you came into the tunnels so I followed. The I ran into Alec," Beckett explained. "Thought you might need some help." 

Alec looked down at the dust at their feet. They way it glistened as it dispersed told Alec the dust had once formed to make a demon. "Apparently not," he noted, sounding uncharacteristically impressed. "Looks like she took care of it." 

"Shouldn't we get going or something?" Clary questioned. "I mean, more demons could be coming, right?" 

"You don't have to worry about them, Luke has his pack out on the hunt," Beckett assured her. 

Alec noticed that for the second time that night, Beckett referred to the pack as if he actually wasn't a part of it. Clary seemed to notice this too as she raised her eyebrows quizzically at her old friend. 

"His pack?" Clary asked. 

Beckett shrugged. "Our pack. Whatever." 

Clary was unsurprised to see Beckett feign indifference when approached with a topic he didn't want to address. It definitely was him and not a shapeshifter demon after all. 

"You two ready to start heading back or what?" Alec questioned. 

At Alec's words, Clary looked at Beckett expectantly. She could already tell Beckett wasn't pleased with what he had to say next. 

"You two should go back to the institute," Beckett forced himself to say. He gave Clary a short nod to show he was serious. "I have to go back to the precinct. I am still on duty after all. I will call you when I'm done, got it?" 

Alec began to move in the direction that the institute was in, but Clary didn't follow him. Instead she closed the distance between herself and Beckett and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. Alec watched curiously as Beckett's lips formed a tight smile, his eyes instinctively closing while his head rested naturally on top of Clary's as he hugged her back. The hug was quick, but both Clary and Beckett clearly held onto each other tightly while it lasted. It was clear to Alec how much reassurance they found in one another, how much trust was there that could only be found in years of knowing each other.

Clary eventually pulled away, and Beckett gave her one last send off nod before turning and heading back to where they had came from. Clary watched him go before turning to Alec and allowing the shadowhunter to guide her the rest of the way. 

By the time Beckett's shift was over, he felt fairly exhausted. The night was at it's darkest by the time he got back to his apartment, but he didn't bother turning on any lights. With the bag he took to work slung lazily over his shoulder, he made a beeline for his bed room. Once he got to the room, he peeled off the top layer of his uniform and collapsed onto his bed in his white t-shirt and boxers. He was fairly certain he could fall asleep just like that. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, though, he heard Magnus nagging. If he went to bed without even attempting the intricate skincare routine Magnus himself had constructed just for him, Beckett was fairly certain the warlock would apparate into his room then and there to berate him for not taking care of himself properly. And if Magnus did that, then the warlock would also certainly ask him about other aspects of his night, specifically about a certain shadowhunter, and Beckett didn't have the energy to sort through all of those feelings at the moment. In all honesty, he didn't think he'd ever have that energy again. 

Groaning to himself, Beckett sat back up. His bag was next to his bed. Trying to do anything other then go to the bathroom and sort through the products Magnus had left him, Beckett instead opted to rifle through his bag for his phone. 

Beckett's night had been busy. Apparently, crime in New York didn't stop just because the shadowworld had been throwing curveballs at Beckett recently. That being said, Beckett hadn't gotten the chance to check his phone in a while and wasn't surprised to see a few missed messages. 

However, what did surprise Beckett was the four missed calls and the voicemail from Simon. Putting on his signature scowl, Beckett clicked on the voicemail to listen to it. 

"Uh, Beck. H-hey. I know you're busy helping Clary find her mom and all, but I really need to talk to you and Clary wouldn't answer her phone either. Anyways, you've always helped me sort out my personal problems and I really, really could use your insight on this." 

There was a pause on Simon's end. It was excruciatingly long and just when Beckett began to wish he could fast forward to the point so he could know what was wrong, Simon's shaky voice resurfaced. 

"B-Beckett? I think I'm becoming a vampire." 

an; wow, i really hope somebody is still out there. if you are, thank you for reading Beckett's story still! your feedback means the world to me so please please please let me know what you thought! and hopefully i'll be able to start updating more frequently again!!