He was gone, and it was Magnus' fault.

Since their breakup, he'd been reckless. He hadn't stopped. He pushed, and pushed, and pushed.

He had no self preservation.

He didn't care about himself.

He was in pain, physical, mental, emotional.

He was broken.

And Magnus had turned him away.

When he called, Magnus ignored him

When he used a payphone, Magnus met him with harsh words.

When he came to the apartment, Magnus turned him away.

Magnus was hurt, and so lashed out at him.

In the end, it did not matter.

He had gone to battle, and he had not returned.

Jace said that he was alive because of him, but Magnus did not see that.

Clary said he had never fought with such fire, but Magnus did not see that.

Isabelle screamed at Magnus.

Magnus felt, for the first time, that someone was telling him the truth.

It was Magnus' fault, and Magnus knew it.

So Magnus stood there.

Magnus stood and watched as he burned.

Magnus stood and watched as they scattered his ashes.

Magnus stood there and stood there.

Nothing would bring him back.

Not magic.

Nothing.

Magnus knew he would never love again, not like that.

Magnus never loved like that before.

That was why Magnus was so hurt by his actions.

And so, Magnus stood there, drowning in his pain and sorrow and anguish.

Magnus would never see white the same way.

Magnus missed him.

Magnus would never stop missing him.

Magnus would never stop loving him.

Magnus would love him as only an immortal can – forever

…

…

...

Pain, anguish, and suffering. What can I say, I'm angsty today.