Alec Lightwood was many things. He was a man of honor, a man of substance, strong and steadfast in his decisions, and on the rare occasion, he was patient.
Alec Lightwood was not, however, a man of mercy.
Simon Lewis often wondered growing up what a real punch sounded like. The movies he liked to watch tended to over exaggerate (sue him, he liked cheesy fighting films) and he had learned early on about the magic of sound editing and foley artists. Being the non-confrontational kind of guy, he never thought he’d figure it out.
Then he had got a job with Alec Lightwood.
And realized you couldn’t hear the sound over the pained screaming anyway.
“No, please! I’ll give you anything, I swear, please stop!” The man’s voice trembled as he struggled to speak through the remaining teeth in his mouth. The beating he had suffered thus far was, shockingly, not the worst one Simon had seen Alec give in his time as his assistant and he actually found himself getting a little bored. The thought alone made him second guess his life choices, frowning and wondering if it wasn’t too late to go back to college. Before he could get too far down that thought path, another cry rang out from across the room and the tortured man began openly sobbing as blood ran down his swollen face from the various lacerations he had suffered.
“I want information. That’s all. I have asked multiple times, quite nicely I might add, and yet you keep refusing. Are you offering what I want now?” Alec Lightwood, head of the Lightwood crime family and gleefully dubbed ‘The Godfather’ by Simon, leaned on a cheap wooden desk, the sleeves of his white button down rolled up carefully to his elbows and eyes intense as he stared down the man tied to a chair in front of him. His relaxed stance juxtaposed the tension in the room and Simon had no doubt it made the man being tortured even more unsure of where his chances of survival lay. He knew that if Alec Lightwood, 6’3 inches of well built muscle and cold indifference was in the midst of torturing information out of him, he might be a little scared for his survival as well.
Scratch that. Simon would be downright terrified and positive he was going to die.
The mobster arched an eyebrow as the silence stretched out beyond his question, casting Simon a look of ‘ can you believe this guy?’ to which Simon just gave an exaggerated shrug. Alec turned back to the man, whose name he had long forgotten, and watched as he coughed and blood dribbled down his chin. Alec lazily reached up to stretch his arms out above his head and sighed as he felt his shoulder pop. He checked his watch and made a show of examining his bloodied knuckles. The majority of the blood wasn’t his own, the dark red staining his skin and seeping in between his fingers toward his palms. He shook his head in irritation and pushed away from the desk behind him, taking a step forward.
The man whimpered and Simon, who was still sitting silently in one of the far corners of the room, watched a smirk tug at Alec’s lips.
Alec continued forward until he was close enough to see the sweat on the man’s brow and leaned down, grabbing his face roughly and forcing him to make eye contact. The man cried out in pain, most likely a broken jaw, Simon noted, and stared at Alec through swollen black eyes.
“I’m getting tired. I have other things to be doing and frankly, you should be thanking me for giving you this much time out of my day. I’m exercising a lot of patience dealing with you.”
The man breathed heavily and tried to speak, blood gurgling in his throat. He coughed and wheezed, more dark blood trailing down his chin onto Alec’s hand.
“I...I haven’t seen him in over a year, I swear. I don’t know anything. I spoke to him once, we h-had one meeting-” The man was cut off by Alec’s hand squeezing down on his broken jaw, his piercing scream breaking the eerie calm that had settled over the room.
“WHERE IS HE?” Alec’s sudden outburst made Simon jump in his seat, causing him to lose the game of Snake he had been playing on his phone. He frowned and checked his smart watch again. It was almost time for dinner. He wondered if Alec was in the mood for take out or pizza. He pulled up UberEats and began to scroll through possible options, his stomach rumbling.
The man had begun crying again, the acrid scent of urine filling the air as he struggled to pull his face out of Alec’s grip. Alec threw a quick punch, striking the man’s already battered ribcage, hard . Alec felt something give way under his knuckles and the man gasped loudly in pain, doubling over.
“Please, no more...please. Just kill me…” His breathing hitched and became more and more labored as he begged. Three hours at the hands of a determined mob boss had done a number on the man, his entire body covered in blood, sweat, and now urine and the multiple injuries he suffered making him delirious with pain.
Simon looked up and saw the seething anger that had twisted onto Alec’s face, the way his jaw clenched and unclenched and the veiled pain in his eyes. Definitely a soup dumpling night. Simon confirmed the order on his phone and tucked it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.
“Alec?” Simon kept his voice low as he addressed his boss, watching his reaction closely. The man was prone to snapping when he was in one of his moods and Simon had learned many lessons regarding Alec Lightwood the hard way. The most important one, he had thankfully never had to learn from experience, as Izzy had taught him when he first began to work as Alec’s assistant.
Never, ever, under any circumstances, call him ‘Alexander.’
His eyes snapped to Simon’s and he took a deep breath, stepping back from the man that was barely breathing in the chair. Alec ran a hand through his hair and tugged at it in frustration, turning away from them to stare at the blank grey wall behind him.
“Belcourt.” The almost unintelligible whisper was followed with a fit of coughing and the sounds of struggled breathing. Alec spun back around and gripped the man’s hair, yanking his head up.
“What did you say?” Alec demanded, voice rough and frantic. “What did you say?!” He yelled in the man’s face, a desperate look in his eyes.
“Belcourt. She’s been heard talking...about him...word on the street is she...knows something.” The man’s speaking pattern indicated a punctured lung and a bad one if the increasing wet noises of his now quieter breathing was anything to go by. Simon almost felt bad. Then again, the man had murdered 3 people in cold blood for money, so he really didn’t.
Alec let go of his hair with a heavy sigh, the man’s head falling back down in a slump. Tears had welled up in Alec’s eyes and spilled over his cheekbones, the relief on his face clear as day even as he quickly wiped them away, smearing blood on his skin. Simon didn’t think he had seen Alec look so relaxed in months.
“Finally. Thank you.” Alec murmured to the man, patting him on the shoulder in an uncharastically friendly gesture for the current situation. The man lifted his head and Simon almost thought he looked hopeful.
Alec exhaled again, straightening his shoulders and smiling slightly as he reached for the holster on his hip. Before the man in the chair even had time to beg, and before Simon had time to cover his ears, a gunshot resounded through the room, blood and brain matter spattering the floor behind the now limp body in the chair. Simon sighed, wiping his face tiredly at his boss’s rash decisions and sent a text to the cleaning crew, making sure to tell them that room 3 needed the heavy duty ‘spill kit’.
Alec holstered his handgun and grabbed his suit jacket and phone from the desk. He typed something quickly before slipping the phone into the pocket of his black slacks. His white dress shirt was stained beyond saving and his once wrapped hands were a swollen mess of blood and loose hanging cloth. Simon made a mental note to put in an order for new hand wraps as he stood from his chair and waved his phone in the air with a smile.
“I ordered food?” It came out sounding like a question, still unsure of his boss’s mood. Good news aside, Alec was touchy these days and notoriously hard to read.
But he smiled and walked forward to clap Simon on the back, who winced. Raphael was going to have a hard time buying whatever excuse he could come up with for that blood stain that was undoubtedly on his suit now.
“We’re going to find him. We’re going to find Magnus.” Alec stated firmly, grinning at his assistant before turning to leave.
Simon smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way and followed Alec out of the room.
Simon hoped, for Alec’s own sake, that he was right.
After finishing up dinner with Simon at the office and going over how they were going to get a hold of Camille, Alec went home to his empty apartment with a heavy feeling in his chest. Dropping his keys on the counter, he tugged off his tie and tossed it aside, simultaneously toeing off his dress shoes and kicking them away. In the back of his mind, a small voice reminded him how much Magnus would have hated that and he frowned, rubbing his temples and willing the thoughts away. He didn’t even turn on any lights as he made his way to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed, stretching out and allowing himself to sink into the mattress.
Today had been one of the more painful ones so far. Over a year and a half of searching and only just a few months ago had Alec started getting leads again. The majority of them had been dead ends, just rumors on the street that Alec had put too much stock into, but the man they had picked up and tortured today, Alec had had a gut feeling about him.
He just didn’t think it would lead him to Magnus’ ex. As far as Alec knew, Camille Belcourt was a petty criminal who liked to leech onto successful people and feed off their money and skill until she didn’t find them useful anymore. When Alec had heard about her from Magnus, almost 2 years ago now, she was assumed to be somewhere in Europe. Alec sat up, berating himself as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it across the room. He should have thought to check on Camille. He hadn’t thought she would be involved in Magnus going missing since she hadn’t seen the man in over 4 years at the time of his disappearance. Rolling himself haphazardly under the blanket, Alec stuck his phone on the wireless charger and buried his face in the pillow, a deep frown on his face. The woman was abusive, sure. Conniving and manipulative and one of the most toxic people that Alec had thankfully never had the pleasure of meeting, and despite all of that, he hadn’t even suspected her.
His whirling thoughts of self doubt and irritation slowly turned into thoughts of Magnus, typical of what happened when he tried to sleep. He found his mind wandering to thoughts of the man’s eyes, the way he liked to line them with kohl and the one time in particular that he smudged a bright gold beneath them, a look which had Alec’s throat tightening at the very first sight of him. It had been the night of one of their first dates, the first time he had joined Magnus in his loft for drinks. He had blonde streaks in his hair and the glitter had contrasted with his dark skin. Alec had a hard time keeping his hands to himself and an even harder time leaving the loft before he moved too fast and messed things up. Magnus hadn’t made it easy, his shirt only half buttoned and decorated with attention drawing necklaces, as if Alec had needed any more of a reason to stare at his chest. They had ended up sprawled out on his balcony couch together, legs tangled up with Alec resting his head on Magnus chest and pointing to the sky, drunkenly making up constellation names. Magnus’ laughter, the way he had clutched his stomach and fallen into a fit of giggling when Alec had started making up dirtier and more ridiculous names, had made Alec realize he was already in love with the man and had been from the very first date they had. Magnus Bane had quickly made himself the most important person in Alec’s life and didn’t even realize it because he was tipsy on one too many vodka sodas and laughing so hard he cried.
Alec missed him. He missed him a lot.
And he was going to do everything absolutely necessary to get him back home.