Chapter Text
Magnus wanders aimlessly along the streets he’s come to know like the back of his hand. No destination in mind, not really, it’s… everywhere he looks a memory is lurking, ready to leap out at him and make him think of…
Someone who shall be consigned to the darkness of time, with all the rest.
He’s learned his lesson, over and over and yet he still makes the same, stupid decisions. Love is nothing but heartbreak and pain, the kind of pain that festers and leaves a mark that never heals.
He was an idiot to think this time would be any different, especially since this time he chose… well his choices have always left him wanting in the end, haven’t they?
“Magnus?” he jumps at the voice, and turns to stare at someone he hadn’t, honestly, expected to see for a long time.
“Azzy?” he mumbles, confused and more than a little lightheaded. How long has he been walking?
“Oh, my dear, you look a mess! What’s happened?” Aziraphale exclaims, crossing to his side, he looks as put together as he always has.
“I lost my magic in a deal with my father, and I lost my home in a deal with the warlock who replaced me as High Warlock of Brooklyn… and my boyfriend just broke up with me.” Magnus replies, not sure why he does it, not sure why he lets Aziraphale wrap him up in a hug, but he does. Sinks into it like he’s a drowning man and Aziraphale is his life ring.
“Oh dear, you’re not having a very good time of things are you, darling?” Aziraphale asks, before frowning. “Well, come along, then. I’ll put you up for a bit.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in London? Your bookshop?” Magnus answers, even as he lets Aziraphale lead him away, one arm wrapped around his shoulders.
“Oh, I do love the bookshop, but I’m taking a bit of a break.” Aziraphale replies, leading Magnus along. Magnus doesn’t honestly pay much attention to where they are or even where they end up, he knows that at some point Azzy leads him inside out of the cold, but Magnus couldn’t tell you what the angel’s home looks like on the outside, he barely takes not of the inside as Aziraphale leads him off to a bedroom and all but pushes him down onto the bed. “You’re a bit in shock, aren’t you?”
“I think so.” Magnus mumbles in reply, but hums. “I’ll be fine after I sleep.”
“Right then. If I’m not around when you wake up, make yourself at home, dearest.” Azzy promises, tucking him in and leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Magnus sighs into the darkness and closes his eyes and suddenly knows no more.
Magnus wakes to the sound of quiet, muffled voices and he lets out a little sigh, rolling over in bed to complain about his guests, before he suddenly remembers that he has no home, that he is in fact, the guest. He huffs and sits up, listening closer to the voices.
“Well, what was I supposed to do, Crowley? Just leave him to wander the streets? He’s a child!” Aziraphale’s voice exclaims, Magnus makes a face at being called a child, he hasn’t been a child for centuries, thank you very much.
“He’s eight hundred years old! Also, might I remind you that his father is a prince of hell. We’re trying to avoid them at the moment, or don’t you recall, angel?” Crowley’s voice retorts, and Magnus smiles at the sound of it.
“You don’t have to remind me! I might not be on active duty anymore, but I’m still an angel! I’m not going to leave him on the streets when I can easily offer him shelter! He has no magic, Crowley!”
“Yes, and how fucking stupid was that? Nephilim are more powerful than their parents by half, they always have been! I don’t want to know what his father is getting up to with his son’s power added to his own, Aziraphale. I really don’t.” Magnus frowns and looks down at his hands. Nephilim?
“Well, he doesn’t know that he’s Nephilim now, does he? None of them do!”
“And whose fault is that?”
“We all agreed it was for the best, and it ended the war… for a time. Now Adam has given us all yet more time to figure something out.”
“Not if those Morgenstern children have anything to say about it!”
“Yes, well, I hope to avert their apocalypse, as well. It’s only been a few months since the last one, are we not due for some peace?”
Magnus tires of eavesdropping and quietly gets out of bed, he goes to magic himself into fresh clothing before he sucks in a breath and closes his eyes, remembering he no longer has magic. So, instead, he continues to breathe deeply as he opens his eyes and tries to make himself as presentable as possible, before he steps out into the living room. He finds Crowley sprawled across an armchair, and Aziraphale sitting primly on the couch. Both of them turn to look at him as he enters the room, and he feels something in his heart when Crowley’s snake eyes land on him, a fond smile forming on his face.
“You really don’t have any magic, do you?” Crowley questions, when Magnus’ warlock mark doesn’t reveal itself, the way it always has whenever he looks at Crowley’s demon mark. Magnus shrugs his shoulders and goes to sit down on the couch, on the other end from Azzy. “Alright, angel, do your miracle.”
“But I-I can’t.” Azzy exclaims, looking between Magnus and Crowley with a great deal of anxiety.
“Angel, think about it this way. If we leave his father with his magic, he’ll become a threat to everything we’re working towards. If you give him back his magic, at least some of his father’s plans are thwarted. Think of it as restoring balance, especially since we can’t have the Nephilim getting worried over their powers again.” Crowley points out, rolling his head along the back of the armchair to look at Azzy.
“They don’t even remember the scope of their powers.” Aziraphale replies, crossing his arms over his chest before sighing heavily and looking heavenward.
“Don’t you go praying now, we’re trying to keep their attention away from us.” Crowley grumbles, but Azzy just ignores him, before finally turning to Magnus with a frown on his face. He sighs again and snaps his fingers and Magnus gasps as he suddenly feels his magic rushing back into him.
“There, now don’t go giving that away again, dearest.” Aziraphale tells him, a stern look on his face, that causes a fond smile to form on Magnus’ lips.
“I won’t.” he promises, because he definitely will not. Absolutely nothing is worth the loss of his powers. Nothing.