Alec stumbled down the corridor, ignoring the warm flow of blood running from his thigh. If he slowed to heal himself, she would likely catch him again, which wouldn't exactly be ideal. Even if he had time to stop and activate his iratze, a quick glance at the wound told him it definitely reached the bone. A healing rune wouldn't do much good.
Closing his eyes tightly, the shadowhunter tried to drown out the voice which may or may not be a figment of his imagination - probably blood loss, Alec noted, or dehydration. To be quite honest, he wasn't sure how long they'd been in the goddamned house, and the residents weren't particularly hospitable. Not exactly five stars, he thought to himself, grimacing at the rather ugly gash decorating his flesh. Never again was he going to let Jace pick a mission.
The voice, real or not, was getting louder, ergo, closer, that much Alec was sure of. The words were musical, like they were singing a nursery rhyme, and sounded like she was calling his name. If he had the time, he'd probably regret informing her that his name was Alec, since it made the whole 'evil ancient warlock chases shadowhunter' scenario a whole lot more creepy.
And where the hell was Jace?
His parabatai, the lucky bastard, had spent most of their visit locked "below", as their captor had called it. Judging by the age of the building, he assumed that it was some sort of cells. Still, the warlock hadn't seemed remotely interested in the blonde, leaving him locked away to devise a less-than-reliable escape plan that had left Alec limping down this dark corridor with only a stele to his name and Jace who knows where.
Turning the corner, he crashed straight into another person, adorning stark black tattoos- no, runes, he corrected himself; he really needed medical attention if he couldn't even recognise the main shadowhunter staple. "Jace!" He gasped, staggering to cling on to him,
"Alec, I told you to distract her," The blonde huffed, dragging them both to continue walking, "not to get yourself more bloodied up."
For a moment, Alec was entirely tempted to knock his brother unconscious and leave him there.
Although, he probably didn't stand much chance on his own, and well, Jace was his brother nonetheless, so he inhaled deeply and focused on trying not to get caught by the warlock that was chasing them.
"Did you find a way out?" Alec croaked, his voice all but screaming for water.
"Yeah, but we need to wait for backup. I sent a fire message a few minutes ago. Here." With a tilt of his wrist, Jace lit up his brother's iratze and stamina runes. The older boy mumbled something that resembled a thank you, before giving up on trying to talk, the pain grasping in his throat intensifying.
The stamina rune, though helpful all things considered, was hardly enough to keep him on his feet much longer. Sleep deprivation certainly wasn't helping, and although that particular rune had kept him awake during some rather busy times at the Institute, it usually wasn't paired with dehydration, borderline torture, and some seriously nasty injuries.
His vision was blurring, but Alec was sure he had seen Jace's lips move, saying something he couldn't hear, before pulling him into a room. A bedroom, he observed, from the quilted mattress and wooden frame. Lurching backwards, he fell into the wall behind him, feeling a sharp pain in his torso. Grunting in discomfort, he brought a calloused hand up to his upper body. Bruised ribs perhaps, maybe fractured. Alec assumed he'd attributed those from being thrown into a closet earlier.
"-ec? Alec? Hey, can you hear me?" At some point, Jace had moved towards him, and had ended up waving his hand rather aggressively in front of his brother's face.
"Mm? Yeah, I'm okay." Alec whispered, not trusting his voice to go any louder, standing up a little straighter.
"Look, I don't think she saw us come in here but I'm pretty sure the trail of blood coming from your fucked up leg has given us away. Not blaming you or anything." Jace shrugged, grabbing his Seraph blade he had reclaimed from his belt.
Huffing, Alec found enough energy to roll his eyes.
Cold metal pressed into his palm brought his attention back, finding the hilt of his blade in his hand.
"Try not to drop this and sever your foot off or anything. I'd rather you had something to defend yourself with but you don't look one-hundred-percent with it right now so," Jace turned back to the door, sparing him one more glance, "you know, try not to die."
Jace Herondale was many things, but a man of words he was not.
Although Alec would have loved to have come up with a witty remark, his line of thought was interrupted by a loud tumult outside the door. Voices, voices he definitely recognised echoed down the corridor, and then Jace was smiling. Whirling to face him again, the blonde raised an eyebrow, twisting the doorknob.
Tightening the weak grip he had on the sword, Alec grasped at the wall, pushing himself towards the doorway. Blinking rapidly, he picked up the faces in the hall. Isabelle stood closest, in a skin-tight scarlet dress and black heels, brandishing her whip with a dark smirk on her bright red lips. Next was Clary, blade in hand - and his bow over her shoulder. He remembered dropping it when they were first ambushed, however many days ago. Two, probably, maybe three at a push, since he hadn't quite died of dehydration just yet. Simon was at her side, fangs bared, sword in hand.
A burst of crimson light brought his attention to the final figure, who seemed to be battling their captor head-on. Magnus threw flurries of magic into her chest, eyes a thrilling gold, burning with unspoken fury. And Alec wondered, not for the first time, how such rage could exude such infinite beauty. Perhaps now wasn't quite the time to be so distracted, but he might be forgiven considering the situation he was currently in.
It was Isabelle's voice that hit him first, before a bolt of green magic struck him hard, sending him flying backwards into the glass cabinet at the end of the hall.
He wasn't really sure what happened after that.
"And his leg?"
"Almost completely healed. It will most likely scar, but I suppose there are worse outcomes."
Alec was immediately aware of the scatter of voices in the room, ears picking up snippets of hushed conversations. He could definitely hear Magnus and his sister in close proximity, Jace and Clary, Simon, maybe?
He should probably open his eyes and alert them to the fact he was awake, but his body felt like it had weights attached to it, so heavy and immobile. Even his eyes seemed glued shut. Alec had no idea how long he'd been out for, but his body definitely hadn't recovered yet.
It was almost as though he could feel the blood running hot through his veins. That was new. If someone asked him what he thought it would feel like to be cooked from the inside out, he imagined this would be the feeling, at least at the beginning. He wasn't in pain, more vague discomfort. Clearly his new acquaintance had done a number on him before they escaped, because he was fairly certain he'd lost a little of his sanity.
He'd be worried as to what the warlock had done to him if he wasn't sure Magnus would have noticed if he'd been possessed or anything nefarious.
Besides, everyone who helped get them the hell out of there seemed to still be here, wherever here was, so it probably hadn't been that long, and he was just recovering. He certainly didn't have the energy to worry.
Speaking of wherever he was, Alec could only assume he was either at the Institute or Magnus' apartment in Brooklyn. And since Alec had needed urgent care, he would assume Magnus would have just taken him home to heal him. Magic would be far more effective that Institute treatment, despite how good it was.
But he was just guessing.
Next, the shadowhunter moved to his injuries. He had heard Magnus say that he leg was pretty much healed, and he could confirm that due to the lack of pain he now felt from that general region. If his leg had been healed, then the other more minor wounds would have been easily cleared up. His throat, however, still burned like fire, desperate for water.
It was about then when Alec noticed the hand carding through his hair, a soothing attachment to the real world. Without it, Alec would have soon become pretty panicked at the idea of being trapped in his own mind, unable to wake up. And now he was fairly sure he wasn't locked in a form of coma, since he was completely aware bar his vision. Focusing on the sensation of the fingers running through his scalp, he could feel cool metal pressed against his skin at the same intervals as the hand movements. Rings.
Alec couldn't help but relax slightly at the knowledge his boyfriend was beside him, and the fact he could hear his siblings voices nearby, even Clary and Simon's. At least no one had gotten badly hurt rescuing them. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself for that.
Finally feeling a little at peace, Alec slipped back into unconsciousness.