⋯

Magnus M. Ledger,

It feels strange writing out your full name. Not in a bad way, just I like your nickname. I like your full name too, though. It's a nice name.

I think I just like a lot of things about you.

Of course, I don't think I've been that subtle. Maybe a little subtle- but I'm not sure if subtly is my specialty. I don't like lying, about my feelings or otherwise. And when you have an expressive face it makes it hard to lie. I've been lying a lot lately. I don't get caught near as often- I don't think I've even been called out in a while. It just feels harder to be so expressive when I don't feel much other than fear and guilt. Not that it's your fault- or any of the club's fault.

The truth is your letter feels harder to write for me. I feel awkward, and quite frankly, sad. I have a lot of regret in how I last saw you, and the last time I saw you it was the night you broke your nose. Well- Yaşru broke your nose. You kissed the top of my head and told me I should think about coming back, and all I can think is that I wish I'd just asked you to stay. I wish I had done something else on Samhain. I wish you didn't get hurt when killing Rowan. I wish I had grabbed your arm when you kissed me on Kelsey's birthday so you'd kiss me again- I wish a lot of things.

I wish you were here.

You probably wish you were here too though, so I can't feel too bad for myself. I'm sure I'm in a better state than you are.

That's not the point of this letter. Well- it kind of is. I guess I'm just trying to be honest before I march into something. If you were here you'd probably call me stupid. I'll just call myself stupid for now. I know what I'm doing is dumb, but there's no other option. I'm either dumb or a coward, and if there's one thing worse than being an idiot, it's being one who runs away. Regardless – of what you're reading this letter for – your present:

I found this leather jacket at a thrift store- and after washing it thoroughly (don't worry), I thought it looked a little too bland to just give to you as it is. I needed something to keep my hands busy anyway, to avoid falling into old habits. I can't imagine how you'd feel if we had more matching scars, Anyway- I tried my best, but I've only seen your horns once, so I can't promise the embroidery of them on the jacket will be perfect. But I've drawn your eyes a hundred times. So they should be accurate- I can't promise they're good, but I can promise I tried. And I thought they were fitting underneath the pair of horns on the back. When you do get a motorcycle, you'll have a jacket to wear. If you want to, I guess.

You've fixed my headphones about six times- they're hanging on by a thread, Magnus. I'd wear them more often but I'm terrified I'm going to break them and lose the only part of you I still have. Anyway, I'm giving them to you if I'm gone- so you have a part of me too. Your actual present is this headphone charm I found for you to go on a necklace chain. It reminded me of you, and I thought you should have it. I also got you a pair of actual headphones, for the record. So you have some better ones to wear, they're soundproof- hopefully to be worn to avoid you snapping at someone when overwhelmed.

I know you collect vinyl albums- at least you're trying to. I haven't heard any of them. The only one I know of is the one you ended up having in your backpack (for still some mysterious, unknown reason) when you stopped by my apartment before you went home to your dorm. I still don't know why you showed up, or how you knew I needed you, but you were being obnoxiously soft. I kinda liked it- I did like it, actually. You told me about the record, and let me see it while you kicked my ass in just about every video game I have. So I got you a vinyl record. I think it's SubUrban. I can't remember honestly. I wasn't thinking about the band when I bought it.

Your last gift is my video game collection. You're the only one I know who likes most of them, even if you gave me shit for some. You don't have to give it back even if I come back. The truth is I don't really play them by myself. I just like having you there and I needed a way to bribe you,

I don't want to leave you, Magnus,

I'm sorry I might have to.

– Sulli Chevalier

⋯

Magnus can't do this.

He can't eat, he can't sleep, he can't breathe knowing Sulli hasn't woken up yet. It's just so infuriating - how could Sulli not come back?? Magnus put everything and then some into that incantation, and for Sulli to just, just ignore it would be so - it's so-

It's not their fault.

Magnus knows that. He just wishes he didn't. He let himself get so attached to this human, it's making him miserable. More miserable than he was before. He just wants Sulli to be back. He wants to hug them again- so tightly and tell them that they won't die alone. Magnus will demolish every fucking fear Sulli has if he has to- the only thing Sulli would have to be scared of is him.

Of course, Sulli isn't scared of him. Even after he'd hurt them, it was an accident; really, it was. Magnus had just felt so hurt, so wounded, that he couldn't think. And Sulli was there in front of him, asking him what was wrong like they didn't rip out his heart themselves by leaving.

The letter sits beside him, open, and dotted with dried tears.

They aren't Sulli's.

I didn't want to leave you, Magnus.

I'm sorry I might have to.

The words are haunting him. It's been two days since they've gotten back, nearly 48 hours since Magnus first read that goddamn letter, and he's read it at least half a dozen times over. It feels like he's dying. It's not worse than what Sedna did - but it doesn't feel better either. It's just a different kind of pain. Everything is so overwhelming now, the aftermath of it all. Magnus supposes Sulli can't be the only one blamed for his lack of sleep and avoidance of his friends. There are a lot of reasons.

At least the police had believed their story. Orion, Kelsey's boyfriend, had helped out. They'd showed up to the station as is, tired, and weary; looking exhausted and worn out, particularly after the reading of each of Sulli's letters. They had the details down to a tee. It had been the Kwons, Adelaide, who worked in tandem with the Devil of Dublin and her brother, who had planted deadly toxins in her own home. That's why she hadn't wanted to live from home, of course. She'd kidnapped her friends, after all, she knew their schedule back and forth, after they started suspecting her of strange things. The details themselves are murky, there were drugs involved, torture, and plans to sell them into human trafficking- dark, horrible things.

Magnus didn't want to think about it anymore. The investigation was ongoing, but they'd been reassured that they wouldn't be given too much trouble after the violent ordeal. They'd just escaped her hiding place after all, a hidden basement beneath the Kwon's house. The police were investigating it now, and all they would find would be things that supported their story. Supplied thankfully by Orion's quick travel to Sedna's lair for evidence. Adelaide was still nowhere to be found, strangely enough.

The college had been kind enough to not only completely forgive tuition for each of them for the rest of their schooling, granting them full-ride scholarships for the damages they'd accumulated in the month they'd been missing, but also offered them the opportunity that if they would like too, they could take the final exams of their classes, and if they passed, be allowed to pass the class. They just had to take the exams by the end of the year - Magnus was going to take his exam tomorrow. He'd already passed three of the five classes in their exams, that's the only thing that's been keeping him busy. It's a good excuse to avoid his friends too. Avoid Yaşru. 

That stupid, ridiculous man. He'd been trying to catch Magnus - well he didn't care. Magnus didn't want to see him. He didn't want Yaşru to look at him, really look, and see how broken and awful he felt. He didn't want to see Erlik, or Kelsey, or Julian, or Madden, or even Cassiopeia.

He wanted to see Sulli, alive; breathing.

Adelaide.

The name shot through him like an arrow. Burning with the pain of betrayal. Magnus had never quite gotten along with Adelaide anyway. She was too pompous, too petty. It was her fault. She killed Sulli. Even if it was indirectly- was it really? True, Magnus was no fan of Arden either, but Sulli writing in pain, broken and mutilated- fuck, the imagery made him feel sick.

He'd made the connection yesterday that Rowan must have been sent after Sulli that night on Samhain. To deal with them. Sulli had looked so, so scared. And the rage that burned through him in that moment was insurmountable- Sulli shouldn't have to be scared of anything but him.

In all honesty, Magnus isn't sure if he wanted fear. He wanted respect- or- maybe he wanted something predictable. Fear was always predictable. The night Magnus kissed him, Sulli was staring at him with something akin to wonderment.

He wants to erase that image from his head too.

Magnus just wants to be angry- but instead of angry, he's just tired. He's cold. He feels so very alone here- and maybe that's a product of his own actions, to avoid his friends so readily, to find distraction in the form of exams he doesn't even really need to study for.

His eyes draw back toward the letter, a flood of emotion running through his chest, forming a lump in his throat.

Come back.

It was stupid of him- foolish really- to care so deeply for a human. It's his own damn fault, but Magnus doesn't care. He just wants Sulli to be safe again. To walk, and smile, and draw, and then get adorably shy when he steals the sketchbook to look through it. 

I miss you.

A scowl scratched across his face as Magnus turned back to his computer, registering that he hadn't at all processed any of the information he needed for his two exams tomorrow. He was bored with it if he was being entirely honest, but he'd rather be bored than spiral into something worse.

"There you are."

The voice made him tense, hair bristling on his arms as he whipped his head backward to see who other but Yaşru was staring back at him. Glaring is probably a better word, but that doesn't feel exactly like what he's doing. Magnus should know, Yaş has glared at him plenty of times. Magnus shared the look for a minute before hunching his shoulders back over, swallowing that thick lump of emotion in his throat, and looking back to his computer. "Go away."

"No."

"Yes."

"No, Magnus." Yaşru was walking towards him now, and Magnus felt some mix of panic in his chest. He doesn't want Yaş to know he's hurting- that's never happened before. Anger is easier. Anger is simple. Anger is predictable. "Can't you look at me?"

"No." It feels weaker than he wants it to, and he fights the urge to rake his nails through his skin.

"Do you have to be so fucking stubborn all the time??" The sharpness is expected, and Magnus doesn't know why, but his stomach twists. He doesn't know what he wants anymore. Pain is so much easier to process, but he's so tired of pain. It hurts. Everything hurts. The room feels too warm suddenly, and Magnus keeps his mouth shut, eyes turned away from the figure now beside him. "You're not even going to answer me?"

"What do you want me to say Yaşru?" Magnus snapped back to him, that emotion he'd choked back earlier rising in his chest again. "Do you want me to cry and whine and plead with you to fucking fix it?? You can't fix it!" Magnus pushed himself up off the table, facing him completely now. Fury pricked the back of his eyes, vision blurring. "Is that what you want?"

"Hey-"

"Sulli is going to die - they're not awake yet! It's been two fucking days! I can't fix it! Cassie can't fix it- no one can fix this! They're going to fucking die thinking that we hated them!"

"Mags-"

Magnus can feel it. His skin feels like it's burning- the freezer burns from the cold haven't quite completely healed yet, and they're sharp in contrast against the warmth he's generating, sending intolerable warmth seeping into the old injuries. "I can't do it Yaşru! Is that what you want me to say?? That I want to pitch myself off the nearest fucking bridge - this is stupid- go away- I don't want to fight you-" Magnus hears his own voice break, and humiliation drains whatever strength he'd used to hold back the tears.

"Magnus!" Yaşru snapped back, his hands finding the tieflings arms to hold him there, and the chill was a soothing combat to the radiating heat. "Stop for one fucking minute, and listen to me!"

"Shut up!" he doesn't care that it comes out like a sob, "Shut- shut up!" Magnus's hands find purchase against Yaşru's chest, pressing against it, shoving him. It doesn't work.

"No."

He's so tired. He's so numb. He's so weak. He doesn't feel like he can fight anymore. Pathetically, he drops his head forward into Yaşru's chest, gripping his shirt weakly. "Yaş, Yaşru, I can't do it- I don't know what to do anymore. You're- I'm - your hands- I don't want to hurt you."

"You don't hurt me." His voice is so soft. Impossibly so - Magnus hasn't heard him use that voice on him before. Maybe on Sulli. "I'm not hurt. Even when I broke your nose- remember? You didn't hurt me then. Not really."

"Stop acting so nice." He's breaking. Magnus can feel it. A tremble runs up his body, and he has to fight the urge to just collapse right into him. "It's really-" His voice breaks again, and he's forced to swallow the shame. " it's weird."

"Stop acting like a prick." Yaşru rolls his eyes, and in a moment Magnus feels his hand in his hair, gently playing with it while the other holds him nice and close to his chest, wrapping around him. "What, you feel better after I insulted you, what are you, some kind of masochist?"

"Shut up." Magnus hides his face in his chest, still holding onto the Məçkəy's shirt. "You should know what I am by now."

"Yeah, a-"

"Don't you fucking finish that sentence."

"Yeah? Or what?"

"Asshole."

Yaşru chuckles in response, the sound deep and heavy. It vibrates up his chest, and Magnus presses his ear to his chest to hear it a little better. Before it happens again, his head is tilted up, a thumb brushing over his cheek where the tears had fallen. The silence feels too delicate to break, so naturally, Magnus wants to break it. He opens his mouth, only to be sent a warning glare from the Məçkəy. "Don't ruin the moment."

"That's what I'm good at."

"Magnus."

"You're the one brushing my tears away, I don't get a sweetheart?"

Yaşru is glaring at him now, that's for sure, and he rolls his eyes, scoffing under his breath before lowering his head down a little, pressing a kiss underneath Magnus' eye. "Fine. Don't cry. Sweetheart."

Warmth scours over his cheeks, much more pleasant than the heat that had been dancing within his skin a moment ago, but much more embarrassing. Weakly, and without any actual malice, Magnus scowled, shoving him back a little "Dick."

"You asked me to!"

"Yeah- well-" He huffed again, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly, trying to erase the security he felt being so close to Yaş. "Whatever."

"You're so fucking childish, you know that?"

"Why don't you leave then?"

"No." It comes without hesitation, and again, his hands find Magnus' arms to pry them apart, drawing him back into a hug, pressing a kiss first to his shoulder, and then his neck. "Can't I just hold you for a second?"

"...Sorry?"

"Please."

Magnus registers that Yaşru sounds serious. He doesn't say please. He doesn't think he's ever even heard him murmur the word unless he's got no other choice or is being held at metaphorical gunpoint by one of the club members. He wouldn't just say it. Not without meaning it. "..okay." He laced his arms around Yaşru's neck, before feeling the arms around him tighten a little. It's quiet again for a breath before Magnus feels the deep, almost relieved breath Yaşru takes vibrating through him.

"Do you have to keep avoiding me?"

He sounds uncharacteristically soft, and concern starts to bleed through the initial anger he felt. Giving into the temptation to play with the strands of hair he could reach, Magnus sighed, masking his breaching worry. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because."

"That's not an answer."

"It is actually, you just don't like it."

"Magnus."

The tiefling bit his cheek, tugging at a strand of hair for a second. "It's easier."

"No, it's not."

"Well, why are you seeking me out??" Annoyance flickered into his voice, covering the undertones of concern and insecurity. "Do you just like me yelling at you?"

"I just want to hold onto the people I love a little longer."

Every thought flew right out of Magnus' head.

He felt his body tense up, and Yaşru's arms grew impossibly tighter around him. There's not much of a response- what do you say to someone who admits they love you? Surely a normal person would tell them they love them back, especially if you do love them back.

Unfortunately for everyone in the room, Magnus included, he's not someone who gives a normal response.

"Dude, what the fuck?"

"Seriously?"

"You- Yaş- you can't be serious."

"I'm always serious."

"Who are you?? Batman? Dude- stop - that's - that's really not funny."

"I do love you."

"Shut up!"

"Make me." Magnus can feel the heat thrumming through his body, face warming impossibly. At the lack of a response, Yaşru pulls back, cupping the tiefling's face in cool, soothing hands again. "You're gonna have to fucking deal with it, Magnus. I love you."

"You asshole."

"Say it back."

"I- you- I don't-"

"Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"You want an honest answer?"

"Magnus-"

"I- Yaşru, I can't just say that- I- it- it feels embarrassing."

"..Are you embarrassed by me?"

"No! No- that's not what I mean." Magnus reaches up to his own face, trying to rub away the shame. "I do- do- the words are hard."

"Do you love Sulli?"

"I- yes- but-"

"Well, you can admit that just fine." Yaşru scowled a little, and Magnus mirrored the motion, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's different, they're not in front of me. You love Sulli too."

"Yeah, I'm not fucking subtle dude." Magnus scowled again, and Yaşru shook his head. "Would it be easier to say if I wasn't in front of you?"

Again, Magnus feels warmth flooding his cheeks. "..maybe."

"Close your eyes then. I want to hear you say it."

"You're a sadist."

"Stop acting dramatic."

"I'm always dramatic!"

"I know, I love that about you."

"Stop saying that!" 

"Then say it back!"

"I love you!" Magnus shouted the words before he registered them, then snapped his mouth shut, covering it with his hands like he could swallow them back while they still echoed in the room. "That- that doesn't count-"

Before he can protest anymore, Yaşru's mouth is on his; cool hands cupping his face again, before pulling back just enough to murmur, "I love you." Another lingering kiss is placed on his mouth, hands finding Magnus' waist to tug him a little closer. "Was that so hard?"

"Yes." Magnus hides his face once again into his formidable chest, scowling at nothing but his own mouth for letting such a ridiculous thing escape.

"Magnus." Yaşru cups the back of his neck, rubbing it gently. "Sulli is going to be okay."

"You don't know that."

"No. But even if they're not- you aren't alone. I'm not going to stop loving you just because they're gone. I want to be with both of you, but if I can't, then you're still enough for me."

Enough for me.

You're enough for me.

"..Magnus, you've always been enough for me."

───────────────

WYN

twenty-seven!

Poor Magnus- at least he and Yaşru have each other rn.

Gee, I hope Sulli wakes up! : )

Three more chapters (including the epilogue) to go I'm afraid. I'm STRUGGLING to get these out - I just don't have a ton of time. I want to finish by the end of November, but we'll have to see how that pans out. Again, I apologize for my lack of activity, it's been so stressful here. 

I love you all, hang in there <3