Part 4 of 4 of Four Seasons

Winter. My least favourite of the seasons. Yes, the city looked beautiful under a pile of crystal diamonds that fell from the sky but it was also the time where bad things always happened to me.

Allow me to explain. When I say "bad things" I mean that my life is flipped upside down mostly during the winter season. For example, in 1530 my favorite horse that I won in a card game took ill with a sickness and died suddenly. In 1697, the woman I had brought home one night was murdered in her own home, and I was the last person to see her thus the murder was almost pinned on me. I'm a very unlucky guy.

Alec was the only lucky thing to ever have happened to me. The boys were my lucky things too, they were now 20 (Rafael) and 18 (Max) but Alec was my first; my first of many new things. He seemed to have changed my luck around. Every winter so far has been a good one. No incidents, no murders pinned on me. Not a thing.

Max and Rafael were outside having a snowball fight as they waited for Alec and I to get ready to go to the institute. Clary was hosting a small family get together with the family, which was something she did every second Thursday of the month. Jace was out on patrol without Alec, just a routine check before heading to the get together. He said he didn't need Alec to come along, even when Alec insisted they go together. Parabatais should never go out alone. But this was Jace. He's stubborn and headstrong.

Alec was in the kitchen taking the casserole out of the oven when I heard a scream. It wasn't a frightened scream; there's a difference. So I rushed into the room to see Alec on the floor, a hand pressed against his hip as he writhed in pain and wheezed for air. I knew then and there that this could only mean one thing.

Jace was dead.

The pool of blood that seeped out onto the floor under him meant that his parabatai rune had faded to a pale, white scar. He screamed again. The sound....my god, the sound was awful. I can remember it as clear as day as if it just happened moments ago. It was like someone was pressing a hot poker into his skin and torturing him with it.

I fell to my knees beside him and placed his head on my lap, cradling it. He began to sob and sputter, trying to create a coherent sentence but he ended up mumbling Jace's name over and over. The boys had rushed in at this point, and seeing their father on the floor with bloodstained clothes made them fall silent. They both knew what happened. It was only a matter of time before one of them was going to pass before the other. We just didn't know which one it was going to be.

The funeral was held the day after. Unlike mundanes, Shadowhunters didn't fool around when it came to their dead. They didn't have an open casket or have people visit the family of the deceased or any of that funny business. Jace died a warrior's death. He was killed in combat by a rogue werewolf. I was told by a Silent Brother that Jace's throat had been ripped out and the wolf showed no mercy. This explained why Alec couldn't breathe when it happened. He could feel Jace struggling for air.

We didn't stay long. The council set fire to Jace's body, and that's all I can recall even to this day. Alec didn't want to stick around any longer than he needed to. Not even to hug the rest of his family. They were all there; Clary and her son, Isabelle and her husband Simon (the once mundane turned vampire turned mundane turned Shadowhunter. It's complicated) and even old Maryse Lightwood was there. Her husband Robert had passed away a few years ago, which is a story I failed to tell but to be completely honest, there's not a whole lot to tell. He died of a heart attack. Plain and simple.

Winter grew very dark from that point on. Rafael moved to Idris to train young Shadowhunters. Max got his own apartment next to his restaurant and continued to work there. Alec....my dear Alec. I'm not sure where we went wrong. I watched as the life drained from your eyes and your soul shatter into a million pieces and not even the most powerful magic could mend you. There's no spell for a broken heart. Just time.

Alec sat in bed for weeks before I decided to say something about it. I couldn't bear to see him in such a dark place anymore. It was too painful to see him like this.

"Alexander. You need to eat something. You're withering away," I pushed his bowl of soup towards him but he never budged. His eyes were blank as he stared up at the ceiling. "Alec. Please. Eat something."

Once again, Alec never moved. He simply just closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He looked so tired....my beautiful husband just looked so done with everything. My only regret I had was not trying harder to get him to do something other than mope in bed. He needed to go outside. Visit family. Find something to focus his mind on.

I gave up trying to force feed him after a while, so I left his soup there and went into the living room to light a fire. Lady MeowMeow, my newest cat after Chairman passed away, rubbed up against my leg and began to purr. She was very affectionate, this one. Always knew when you were feeling down and she tried her best to make you smile.

"Oh, Lady. Alec needs you more than me right now. Go see if you can cheer him up, hmm?" I nudged her towards the bedroom, where she trotted off with her tail held high.

She stopped outside the bedroom door though, just staring in and not moving a single muscle. Something was wrong. There had to be. She only froze like that if something was off or if there was another cat around, and I knew for a fact that there were no other cats around.

I rushed into the bedroom, accidentally knocking over a stack of books as I ran in. Alec still had his eyes closed and he looked like he was in a deep sleep. Only his chest wasn't moving.

I rushed over to the bed and attempted CPR. I zapped him with sparks from my fingers to restart his heart. I tried everything, but Alec would not wake up. He remained still with his eyes closed.

I began to sob. "Don't you dare leave me, Alexander! You're a fighter! So fight!" I zapped him again and I thought for sure that's when he was going to slowly open his eyes and say my name in that quiet voice he always uses. But he never moved. It became clear to me that Alec was never going to wake up again.

He was dead.

I had a Silent Brother come to the house to determine the cause of death. Brother Damien, fairly new to the brotherhood, placed a gentle hand on my husband's forehead and turned to look at me (his eyes weren't sewn shut. Just his mouth).

There is no poison in his system. No signs of self harm or the like. Simply put....Alexander Lightwood died of heartache, Brother Damien said to me.

Heartache. Of all the things I thought for sure was going to quite possibly kill my warrior husband, it was heartache that ended up taking him from me. "So he died peacefully?" I whispered to the Brother.

Yes. He closed his eyes and slipped into a deep sleep. He was in no pain, Magnus Bane. If anything, he died proud of what he accomplished in his lifetime, Brother Damien bowed his head. Would you like me to escort his body into Idris?

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "Yes. Yes, that would be nice. I have to contact our boys. I have to....give them the news." I watched as Brother Damien tapped on Alec's forehead and a barrier went up around his lifeless body. I couldn't watch anymore so I looked away as Brother Damien left the room with Alec's body through a portal.

Max picked up after the third ring. "Lightwood's restaurant. Max speaking."

"Max. It's papa."

Max paused. "Papa? What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

I swallowed back a sob but it managed to escape. "Daddy just passed away, bud. Daddy's dead."

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. I couldn't tell if he was still there or not, it was so quiet. Finally I heard a small whimper. "How did he die?"

I wiped my eyes. "Brother Damien said he died of heartbreak. Jace's death was too much for him, kiddo. It broke his heart so much that it couldn't be healed. So he went to sleep and didn't wake up."

Max began to sob, reminding me of the little blueberry that used to cry himself to sleep during thunderstorms. In the background I could hear talking, people asking him if he was okay and was everything alright.

Max brushed them off. "I'm closing up for the day. I'll be home in a half hour. Is Rafe there yet? Does he know?"

I shook my head, forgetting that I was on the phone. "No. Not yet. I have to send him a fire message. He's in Idris training."

Max sighed shakily. "Okay. I'll be there in a bit."

Max came home exactly a half hour later as he promised, together we went to the institute to tell Isabelle. At first, she looked so happy to see us. When she noticed that we weren't smiling, she knew something was wrong.

"Where's Alec?" She asked. So I told her the news. She fell to the floor and began to sob, her cries tearing an even bigger hole in my heart. I felt like I couldn't heal anybody; I couldn't help ease their pain.

Clary was the next to get the news. Her lower lip quivered and she crossed her arms over her chest. I felt for her. She lost two people that were really close to her over the course of a few weeks and just as she thought the pain was easing up, her heart is broken again.

Honestly, everything is blurry from then on. I can't remember much about the funeral. The most I can recall is that Rafael lost his mind when he found out the news. He trashed his office in a fit of rage and when he finally calmed down, Max wrapped his arms around his brother and they cried together on the floor. We all did.

More winters passed. I still visited the Lightwood mausoleum from time to time, tracing a finger over Alec's name and occasionally talking to him. Or myself. Depends on how you look at it. Max and Rafe visited sometimes too. Rafael was married with a daughter of his own. Max had finally stopped aging at 22 and had a boyfriend of his own. Alec would've been so proud of our sons.

It was also winter when I met the newest addition to the Lightwood-Bane family. A small boy, no older than 9, perched in a tree just outside my apartment. He watched me with careful eyes as I laid down some hot food on my doorstep for him. Carefully climbing down, he sniffed the food before scarfing it down hungrily. Eventually, I coaxed him inside to lay by the fire to warm up.

He had stripes on his skin. Black stripes like a tiger and I knew right away that he was an orphaned warlock that was abandoned by his family because of his unique differences from mundanes. People fear what they don't understand, but I didn't fear this child. I felt an instant bond with the boy as he sat by the fire and played with Lady MeowMeow.

I smiled broadly at him. Maybe winter wasn't such an unlucky season for me after all. Just when I thought there was no purpose in life for me anymore, this little guy walked into my life. Just when I locked myself up and was about to throw away the key, this little boy unlocked something in me and opened the door for me again. I felt alive again. More alive than I had ever felt in a long time.

So I adopted the boy and took him under my metaphorical wing. Gave him a warm, loving home and everything his little heart desired. He never asked for much; he never did. He was smart, kind, always had time to help someone in need and always put others before himself.

So I named him Alexander. After my sweet little archer boy.