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Title: innocence, your history of silence.
Fandom: Shadowhunters (TV show).
Character/Pairing: Isabelle Lightwood/Raphael Santiago.
Rating/Warnings: T. References to off-page torture.
Summary: The story in which Azazel put Valentine in Raphael's body, instead of Magnus's.
Word count: 4.1k.
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Isabelle took the last steps towards the door that lead to Magnus's loft, filled with more concern than she'd like to own up to. It wasn't a shock —though it was a disappointment— if, after everything that happened between them, Raphael refused to answer her texts or calls; but it seemed as if he'd gone missing from the face of the earth, impossible to locate even for his Clan. She'd witnessed firsthand Raphael's loyalty to his own, and she was incapable of picturing a version of him that would leave them hanging.[1]
What Jace had said, almost in passing, only increased her worries: Raphael had been there, helping them, when Magnus summoned Azazel to find her, and that was seemingly the last anyone had seen of him. Isabelle suspected that the demon might have hurt him, and she felt nearly insurmountable guilt about it.
Magnus's door was unlocked, and she entered uninvited, without knocking. Her brother was there with the host, both of them with frustrated expressions. Magnus leafed through a grimoire, while his magic took care of tidying up the remains of some spell.
"We can't locate Azazel," Alec told her, attuned to her silent entry. "We think something must be blocking us".
"Then try Raphael," she said, eyes on Magnus. "He's missing".
Immediately, he closed his book, and without missing a beat, he started a new spell.
"Why were you looking for Raphael," Alec asked, voice laced with as much suspicion as his gaze. Isabelle valiantly refrained from rolling her eyes.
"Simon asked for my help. It's nothing you have to worry about."
"Uh. That is strange."
"What? What's wrong?" Magnus's tone alarmed her.
"He's not protected from the spell, per se... it's as if I can't reduce his location to just one point. There's a duplicate of him in the map."
Alec grimaced, showing a flash of doubt. Silently —raised eyebrows, crossed arms—, Isabelle asked him to elaborate.
"I thought it was nothing," he stressed, "that it was just Valentine, up to his usual tricks. That's why I didn't say anything."
"What didn't you say?"
"I was in Valentine's cell before and... well, he claimed he wasn't Valentine, that he was Raphael and that the demon must had switched their bodies. Is that even possible?"
"For a Great Demon such as Azazel? Of course it is."
Before Isabelle could say anything else, Magnus had opened a Portal to the Institute.
When they burst into the cell, Valentine's body was tied up to a chair, gagged and bound. Inquisitor Herondale, standing uncomfortably close to him, whispered something threatening in his ear.
"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, caught in between righteous indignation and utter astonishment.
"We think there's been a mistake," Alec rushed, while Magnus, without looking at her twice, came close to the prisoner. "The leader of the vampire Clan is missing, so now we believe it's possible that he might be..."
"That's absurd," Herondale said. There was no confusion in her voice, just a clear dismissal.
"Magnus." Valentine's voice sounded coarse, vulnerable. Isabelle, who stood in the entryway, frozen in place, noticed the rune that adorned his wrist, the malicious goal in it clear as day. Nausea that could easily compete with the worst of her withdrawal raised in her throat. "Soy yo, te juro que soy yo. Mi madre te contrató para buscarme, pero llegaste demasiado tarde. Ya me habían convertido, pero aun así me ayudaste, nunca te rendiste conmigo. Por favor, no lo hagas ahora. Soy yo. Soy yo."
He said that in quick Spanish, with Isabelle herself only picking up bits and pieces. However, it was enough that, if she'd harbored any doubt still, it would've disappeared in that instant.
"Tranquilo, tranquilo. Te creemos." Magnus's magic, almost on its own accord, healed some of the wounds on Raphael's face, as he caressed it.
"Por favor."[2] He raised his eyes to them, stopping at Isabelle. She swallowed, and nodded; a worldless promise to do anything and everything she could to help him.
"Let's take this outside," Herondale ordered, mouth pressed in a straight line that didn't invite any objections.
"Are you aware of what you just caused?"
They all gathered outside the cell, including Clary, Jace, and Sebastian, attracted by the commotion their arrival had caused. Inquisitor Herondale didn't pay them any attention. If she had, she likely would've kicked them out without much fuss.
"Oh, believe me, I'm well aware of what I just did." Magnus, theatrical as ever, examined his nails; as if nothing else in the room could hold his interest.
"You gave him ammunition. You let him know you buy into his ridiculous charade, and now he has you eating out of his hand."
"It's not a charade. He's told me thinks that only Raphael and I know, and that Valentine has no possible way to figure out. Ergo, he's not Valentine. He's Raphael Santiago, leader of the vampires of this city. And you just tortured him; illegally, I must add. I don't think that'll contribute to mend your relationship with Downworlders."
"Wait, wait," Jace asked, "can anyone here bother to explain what the hell it's going on?"
Imogen Herondale looked at him, a derisive grimace fixed on her face.
"We believe Azazel could have put Valentine and Raphael in each other's body, " Alec answered, "probably so he could get the location of the Mortal Cup out of Valentine."
"So Valentine is going around with a vampire body? With vampire weaknesses and appetites?" Sebastian smirked. "With what little I know of the man, it must be killing him."
The irony wasn't lost on Isabelle, but what mattered was important was the conclusion his comment inevitably led to.
"He's right. Valentine would try to get his body back by any means necessary before giving anything to Azazel," she said, "so we must be alert. I'll do the first round."
"We haven't confirmed if any of this is true," Herondale complained. "We must proceed with the interrogation of the prisoner to dissipate any doubts."
Isabelle approached her until they were so close she could feel Herondale's breath on her face. If she had hoped to intimidate the woman with this, she'd been disappointed. Imogen Herondale had stone-thick skin.
"Don't you think for one moment that I don't know what you were doing in that cell. And I doubt that you had permission for it. So if I even see you in the same floor as Raphael, I won't hesitate before reporting you to the Clave," Isabelle whispered, in the harshest tone she could reach.
She didn't wait to see the outcome of her words. Her heart beat fast, with both fury and trepidation, when she turned her back and walked away. Mere months before, the woman she just threatened had presided over Isabelle's trial and nearly ruined her life. She should be freaking out, but the truth was that she felt a little proud of herself, in that moment.
"What the hell were you just thinking?"
Alec, of course, had follower her. He would have a heart attack if he couldn't have denied her this tiny little high, too.
"Do you have any idea of what you just did? Threatening the Inquisitor? Are you completely insane? How could you do that?"
"How could you not to! How could you just stand there and do nothing while Herondale was torturing him? Knowing what he means to me?"
"What he means...? Izzy, he was your dealer." Admittedly, despite throwing such a thing to her face, he had the decency of lowering his voice.
"He's much more than that, and you know it. They gave him the Agony Rune, Alec. What were you doing then? Did you stood there doing nothing? Or did actually help her?"
"Izzy..."
"No, Alec. What if it'd been Magnus? You should have told me. Or at least told Magnus. Or you should have tried to stop her. Something."
"Maybe you're right," Alec said, not particularly contrite, "but in that moment I did what I thought was best with the information I had."
"Whatever you say."
Isabelle planted herself in front of Raphael's cell, standing straight and looking ahead. It sent the clear message that their conversation, as far as she was concerned, was over.
The minutes went by, and Isabelle was still debating over whether she should stay where she was or get inside the cell and keep watch there. Tactically, being outside made much more sense. She could control the inside and she would see any threat coming. But it was hard to think tactically when she saw Raphael in that cell— still a prisoner, ignorant of what would come to him, his lips moving in a silent prayer.
She wanted to talk with him. Yet she didn't know what she could possibly say, giving how she had behaved during their last encounter.
When the elevator's doors opened, Isabelle only relaxed when she saw Sebastian was the one breaching them.
They greeted each other with a smile, and Sebastian stood next to her, shoulder to shoulder. One could easily count the hours since the two of them had met, but she already found his presence comforting. They were, she laughed to herself, kindred souls. Should she invite him to go with her to one of those meetings Simon told her about? It'd be easier to go, with Sebastian by her side.
"Can I ask you something untoward? From addict to addict."
"Go ahead."
"Is Raphael the vampire that...?"
"I was an addict before I went to him," she said, feeling the need to clear that up, "but yes. It's bigger than that, though."
"You don't have to tell me that." He raised his hands in deference. "I wouldn't have been all in the Inquisitor's face for a simple dose."
"That's how it started, for both of us. But we connected and... we liked what we saw in the other. He's important to me."
"I get it. Things like that happen sometimes. The addiction gives it a push, but it doesn't create it out of thin air. But," he said, seeming concerned, "the fact is, you can't really separate them. So if you want to get better, it might be for the best to keep your distance."
"His life is in danger."
"Yes, that complicates it." He walked from the wall, readying to leave, and looked straight into her eyes. "What I really came here to say is that, whatever it is you decide to do with this situation, I'm here. I'll do anything you need."
"Thank you. Truly." At least she felt there was one person who could understand.
Just as he was walking back to the elevator, it opened a second time, showing Jace and Clary. The three of them crossed paths before Jace and Clary came to talk to her.
"So," Jace said, raising his eyebrows, "you and Santiago, eh? What's that about?"
"Yeah, why is that I don't know anything about it?"
Despite their light tones, she could see they were waiting for an explanation. She might have given it to Jace, but she found that she wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of Clary knowing about the yin fen.
"It's very new." She decided to leave it at that. "I'll tell you about it when we have the time."
"Well, I hope it's worth it," Jace said, crossing his arms and leaning casually by her side, "because Herondale is pissed."
Isabelle looked at Raphael through the glass. He had stopped praying, at least visibly, laying down and merely staring at the ceiling. She thought that, even if she hadn't known the truth beforehand, she would've recognized him in Valentine's features. His countenance was too gentle, his eyes too sincere. The way he clung to Magnus; the look in his eyes when he saw her...
"I think your face answered for you," Jace teased.
"Yes, please, stop looking at my father like that."
She smiled faintly in response. At that moment her phone ringed, and she saw a text.
From Alec:
The Inquisitor wants a meeting to decide what do about this.
Jace, shamelessly reading over her shoulder, said: "Go, we'll stay here. It'll be fine."
Alec, Magnus, and the Inquisitor were reunited around the table. Isabelle took the only place left; that left her standing opposite to Magnus, who had his arms crossed as he stared intently at the table.
"I've taken into account the possibility that the… body switch may be true." Isabelle bit back a triumphant smile. "Miss Lightwood will lead a team that will take care of investigating possible vampire attacks. If Valentine is indeed in the body of one of them, it's very likely that he wasn't able to rein in their lowest instincts."
Isabelle, for some reason, doubted that. Maybe it was all those stories you heard, whispered furtively, about Valentine. There was fear and censure in them, but you could also find some amount of... not admiration, per se, but definitely begrudging respect, when people talked about his accomplishments. The courtesy owed to a worthy warrior. She couldn't reconcile that image with a novice vampire incapable of controlling himself.
And she didn't want to, either. If he had gone around the city using Raphael's body to hurt or even murder innocent people, she didn't know how he would take it.
"If Azazel is so intent on finding the Cup, he won't let something like that keep Valentine from giving it to him."
She hoped Magnus was right about that.
"You and mister Lightwood are tasked with locating the demon, by any means necessary. We must stop him before he gets his hands on the Cup. Those are the only courses of actions we can follow right now. These are your orders."
Those weren't the only ones, Isabelle thought, and they left a lot to be desired. But they were the only ones Herondale was willing to approve, and certainly the one that just occurred to her wouldn't make the cut.
So she just tried to get Magnus attention, before saying, "I'll reunite my team and we'll get to it."
To Raphael:
I know who you are. If you want your body back, you just have to name the place.
Alec, needless to say, didn't like her plan. But she guessed he wanted to make it up to her enough to help her with it; or, at least, he understood she wasn't going to be stopped, so he should stick to covering her six.
Despite that, when he saw Sebastian, he just had to say something.
"What is he doing here?"
She rolled her eyes with as much flair as she could manage. "Helping me."
The plan was quite simple. Much as Shadowhunters at large hated to give credit where it was due, Magnus was the one who took care of most of the building's security. It wasn't a difficult task for him to get around it. They only had to get Raphael out of the inferior levels and take him to Magnus.
Piece of cake.
Alec's stele could open the cell. Isabelle had proposed to "steal" it from him for plausible deniability, but Alec insisted on being a more active participant. He didn't want them to face Azazel without him.
When both of them, along with Sebastian, went down in the elevator, Jace and Clary were where she had left them. So was Duncan, who Herondale had probably sent as deterrent from exactly Isabelle and the others intended to do. Imogen Herondale, as usual, underestimated Jace: when he saw them coming, he didn't waste time before knocking Duncan out.
"Don't you get the feeling we've been through this before?" he asked, while Alec opened the cell.
Raphael surprised when they entered, but he calmed down when he laid eyes on Isabelle. She untied him, smiling, and he held her hand as he stood up.
"Come on, we don't have much time." Alec grabbed him and pushed him out of the room. The group went to the elevator, headed for the exit.
When they arrived Magnus was keeping a protective barrier around them, while two soldiers leaded by Herondale faced him.
"Get ready. When I open the Portal my defenses will drop. Jump in, I'll follow later."
"Clary, Alec, make sure Raphael gets there," Isabelle ordered. "You keep it open and we'll help you take them down. We need you there."
"Stop this immediately!"
"... one, two, three!"
She heard them leave through the Portal. The other Shadowhunters charged against them; Sebastian and Jace took care of their own, and Herondale approached her.
"Miss Lightwood, what you're doing has no..."
She never got to know how that phrase would end, since she took advantage that Herondale wasn't attacking her directly to knock her out with her staff.
"Your sister just knocked out the Inquisitor," Jace told Alec as soon as they reached the other side. With illustrative gestures and everything.
Alec let out a frustrated sigh that threatened to become never end. Raphael, next to him, snorted quietly.
"Are you alright?" She reached for his arms, looking him up and down to assess his wounds.
"I'm much better now." It probably wasn't his intent, but he sounded so corny that she couldn't stop herself from beaming at him.
"We don't have time for this." Alec grabbed Raphael again, separating them.
"It's probably for the better if you postpone the sweet nothings until the hostage exchange it's over," Magnus said, amused.
The exchange was in a small park, plagued with leafy trees and empty at that ungodly hour. Azazel and Valentine were waiting by the time Isabelle, Magnus, and Raphael arrived, both dressed with suits that almost seemed to match. If anything, she mused, Raphael's looked even more expensive. She would tease him later, about how he managed to out-dress a Prince of Hell.
And, by the Angel— if she thought it was easy to recognize Raphael in Valentine's body, the opposite was an even simpler task. The way his face rested had something unnatural to it, if you'd known Raphael long enough. There was unease and discomfort in the way Valentine carried the body. He probably could smell their blood from his position, and it had him on edge. And even if Isabelle had once considered Raphael a cold person, he clearly could never compare to Valentine.
"Do you really think they came alone?" Valentine asked Azazel, without looking away from them. Raphael's voice sounded artificial on him.
"Magnus would know how to hide it from me."
Valentine shrugged, nonchalant, and brusquely opened his shirt. Plastic bags full with transparent liquid surrounded his chest, and you didn't need to be a genius to guess what they were.
"Holy water."
Isabelle had taken into account that they might try something like that, but that didn't make it any easier. She nodded, unable to say a single word. Valentine looked at her, curious, and with an empty smile said:
"You look a lot like your mother. Remember to give Maryse my regards, if you manage to get out of this alive. You," he said to Raphael, "should probably take a look at your phone. I wonder who that sweet old lady could be."
Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't thought that, by sending that picture, she had exposed the family Raphael had tried so hard to keep safe, presenting her to Valentine on a silver platter.
"Can we get this over with?" Magnus intervened, impatient.
"Want to do the honors?"
Magnus glared at Azazel, who seemed to find the situation extremely amusing. He raised his hands, summoning his magic. Raphael and Valentine started levitating, and just before the switch was completed, Magnus gave Isabelle the signal to activate the Agony Rune.
It had been Raphael's idea, and though she hated it with every fiber of her being, she agreed to it. You could never be too cautious with Valentine.
Back in their respective bodies, Valentine let out a piercing scream. Magnus stopped the holy water explosion, mid-air. Azazel was about to attack him, but had to stop to catch an arrow that was going straight to his head.
As she approached a still disoriented Raphael, Isabelle was instinctively attuned to the fight around her —Magnus opening a Portal that disappeared as soon as Jace got Valentine through it, Alec and the others fighting in vain against Azazel—, but she kept her focus where it mattered. She took a deep breath, calming her trembling hands, and set to remove the explosive belt. She didn't know what Magnus had done; the water was paralyzed, like someone had hit pause on a small parcel of the universe. She managed to pull it off without any explosion, and threw it away as far as she could.
She met Raphael halfway as he put his arm around her shoulders, helping him up while he searched for his phone in his pockets. Isabelle looked away, not wanting to face his reaction, and saw that Clary had stopped Azazel's attack with one of her runes. He still managed to run away before they could take him out. Magnus was coming to them, with a worried look on his face.
"You aren't hurt, right?"
"No, I'm fine," he answered, putting his phone back, "but I'd like to go back home and just rest."
"I'll make you a Portal."
"Can I come with you?" Her voice sounded pitiful and hesitant when she said it.
Raphael paused, looking into her eyes for a few seconds. "Of course."
"Izzy..."
Alec had come up to them too. He had a cut on his face that he must have gotten during the fight.
"I don't want to deal with the Inquisitor right now." She wasn't planning on arguing about it.
"We got the real Valentine back and Azazel doesn't have the Cup," Sebastian intervened. "That has to count for something."
"And if she's cross because you disobeyed her and wants to punish you for it we'll just repeat your threats." Magnus said that as he opened yet another Portal. He must have been exhausted.
Raphael approached Alec, telling him something she didn't get to hear. When he came back to her arms, her brother still looked concerned, but he nodded, understanding.
The Portal took them to the same room where not long ago she and Raphael had spent hours getting high on each other, and it felt like a punch in the stomach. She had to close her eyes and breathe deeply for a couple seconds to take that image out of her head.
Raphael sat on the sofa, texting. Probably to one of his vampires, to tell them where he was and ask them to protect Rosa.
"I'm so sorry about your sister. I had no idea that..."
He cut her off. "I don't want to talk about that right now." He put his phone aside and raised his hand towards her, interlacing their fingers. "Come here."
She let herself be guided to him, to end up sitting sideways on his lap with his arms around her. Tender, she kissed his temple, clutching her hand to his jacket, and let her head fall into his shoulder.
"I'm also sorry for everything you've had to go through today."
He pushed her gently, so that they were face to face.
"You made it bearable."
The way he looked at her —the way he always looked at her— made her heart flutter; his solid hand on her leg spread a tranquil warm through her body, making her kiss him again, on his cheek. She
stayed there, her forehead against the side of his, her eyes closed.
"I'm going to sleep," he whispered, "do you want to stay?"
She nodded, without moving an inch from him. They stayed still for a few moments longer, until she stood up and waited for him to lead her to the room.
Once there, she took off her jacket and her boots. After a second of doubt, she did the same with her pants; they were too tight to sleep on them, and she always made sure not to wear unflattering underwear, just in case. Besides, Raphael wouldn't pay much attention to that.
She got that wrong, because when he turned around Raphael gave her a warm, appreciative look, if not the type she was used to. He had undressed too, and she returned his smile. The truth is, she was too exhausted to feel any semblance desire, either.
Raphael's sheets felt as heavenly soft as they looked. The two of them met in the middle, where Raphael embraced her and she nestled into his bare chest. The silence within his rib cage should've been unnerved, a sign that she rested her head on something dead. When he kissed her hair and started rubbing circles in her back, Isabelle fell asleep with an ease that had been lost on her for months, safe.
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A/N (c&p):
[1] The idiom for that in Spanish is "dejarlos en la estacada", as in stake. I just needed you to know that, even thought I knew I would publish the story in English, I couldn't help myself.
[2] "It's me, I swear it's me. My mother hired you to find me, but you were too late. I had already been turned, but you still helped me, you never gave up on me. Please, don't do it now. It's me. It's me."
"It's okay, it's okay. We believe you."
"Please."
It's a rough translation; more about what sounds natural than word for word, basically.
