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Underhill clasped his hands behind his back and sighed through his nose.
A few weeks ago, when he’d been asked to spearhead the protection detail Alec was putting together for Magnus Bane, he’d taken it for the show of trust that it was. He took pride in being good at his job, and he'd been determined not to let his boss down. And he soon found that he liked Magnus, too. The man might be renowned for his extravagant lifestyle, eccentric behavior, and wanton ways, and although he had his quirks, what Underhill saw most was a man grieving, just like anyone would after suffering such a colossal loss.
A Downworlder sacrificing such a huge part of his identity for Shadowhunters. These truly were strange times.
So, Underhill respected Alec, he liked Magnus, and he knew exactly how important this job was, how important Magnus was to Alec. Which made this whole situation so much worse.
“Alexander, you’re overreacting.” Magnus’s voice drifted out from the small crack in the bedroom door. “Stop fussing, I’m fine.”
“You’re not ‘fine,’ Magnus,” came Alec’s muttered response. “By the Angel, what were you thinking?”
Underhill shifted on his feet. He briefly wondered if he should maybe move away a bit, take a few steps into the living room to give them some privacy. Then again, his boss had all but pinned him to this spot in the hallway—with the stormy look in his eyes more than with actual words, but Underhill wasn’t taking any chances.
“Alec, someone was clearly in danger,” Magnus was saying, audibly exasperated. “What were we supposed to do?”
“Underhill should have called for backup and let someone else handle it.”
Underhill grimaced. In his defense, that had been what he’d planned to do, but when the former High Warlock dashed into the alley and toward the screams before he’d even had the chance to reach for his phone, there had been little he could do but follow.
“Alexander. That boy would have been dead before anyone else got there. We did the right thing to intervene. And I was under the impression that it was the Shadowhunters’ job to rescue Mundanes in need.”
“Underhill already had a job, and it was to look after you!”
There was a pregnant pause. Underhill shifted again. Although he knew no magic was being actively used within these walls – aside from Catarina Loss’ wards – he could’ve sworn that the temperature dropped by several degrees.
“Oh, so I’m a ‘job’ now?” Magnus’s voice was hard, the words sharp and tinged with something that Underhill couldn’t quite place. “I’m not completely defenseless, Alec, or have you conveniently forgotten all of our many training sessions?”
Alec sighed.
“You know that’s not what I mean, Magnus, I just… You have to be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I helped save someone today.” Magnus’s voice was infinitely softer now. “If a sprained ankle and some bruises is what it’s going to take for me to feel useful again, I’ll take it gladly. Every time.”
“Magnus…”
If Alec continued, it was too quietly for Underhill to hear it. It was just as well. He already felt like he had been privy to more than he had any right to.
The minutes stretched in time with the shadows growing longer across the floor, before brisk steps signaled Alec’s return.
Underhill straightened.
“Sir, I want you to know that I take full responsibility for what happened and I’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit,” he began, but immediately stopped at the look Alec gave him.
“I want you to return to the Institute and fill out a report of what happened tonight,” Alec said. “It will be on my desk by the time I return tomorrow morning. I’ll see you back here at 9 a.m. for the shift-change.”
Underhill blinked.
“Sir?”
Alec sighed, already half-turned toward the bedroom.
“Look. You’re a good soldier, and a good man,” he said. “That’s why I chose you for this assignment. Magnus insists that you didn’t do anything wrong and that I shouldn’t blame you for what happened. I won’t punish you for something that was essentially out of your control.”
“I…” Underhill cleared his throat. “Thank you, Sir.”
Alec grunted.
“Don’t thank me, thank Magnus.” He waved a hand. “You’re dismissed.”
Underhill gave a curt nod. He thought about how, only a few weeks ago, he’d helped a fellow Shadowhunter sneak out of the Hunter’s Moon, a man who would rather make a hasty retreat than have his family know about his state of inebriation. This wasn’t that man. This was his boss, whose partner had gotten hurt on Underhill’s watch. The fact that he wasn’t even reprimanded for it was already pushing it, as far as he was concerned.
He was by the front door when Alec’s voice made him pause.
“Underhill.”
He looked back over his shoulder, and was thankful for the extra few feet that separated him from his boss’s intense stare. He might not be facing punishment, but those eyes were far less forgiving than the words had been.
“This won’t happen again,” Alec, the Head of the Institute, said.
Underhill pressed his lips together.
“No, Sir, it won’t. You have my word.”
Alec studied him for a moment, and Underhill made a conscious effort to keep eye contact and not squirm. He might have been born and raised a soldier, and thus had experienced his fair share of scrutiny from his superiors. But Alec Lightwood had a way of making you feel like he wasn’t only inspecting your form, but scrutinizing your very soul.
Seconds ticked by like minutes until, apparently satisfied with whatever he saw, Alec nodded.
“Good. Then you’re free to go.”
“Sir.” Underhill hesitated with his hand on the door handle, before venturing, “For what it’s worth, he was holding his own pretty well out there. He dispatched that demon and saved the Mundane before I had the time to do anything.” He offered a tentative smile. “All I’m saying is, I wouldn’t want to run into him in a dark alley.”
A series of emotions flickered across Alec’s face, but Underhill didn’t know him well enough to decipher them. But, and maybe it was only wishful thinking on his part, something in his eyes seemed to soften. The man behind the leader peeking through the cracks.
“Thank you, Underhill.”
Underhill nodded.
“Have a good evening, Sir.”
“You, too.”
Making his way back to the Institute, Underhill had to admit that, all things considered, the evening could’ve gone a whole lot worse.