Simon Snow, fan fic.

Simon was pressed against the opposite wall and tried to free himself from the ropes that still held his hands together. He needed to reach his wand and help Baz before the attacker killed him. He pulled the last strings and felt the ropes give away. An exhausted sigh escaped his lips and he wept the sweat of his brow. Baz wasn’t doing very well. Nothing he tried seemed to work. This was not good, Baz was supposed to be one of the best students of their generation. Simon ran to his side.
“Let’s get this over with.”
“Nice of you to join us, Snow. I thought maybe you went out to get some coffee.”
Baz was panting heavily and had several cuts on his arms.
“Shut up. I’m here.”
Simon immediately raised his wand and cast a blinding spell that only just missed the attacker’s head. He tried again, but got the same result. He groaned in frustration.
“It won’t work, Snow. Even if you do manage to hit him.”
Baz confronted the attacker and kicked the man hard in the stomach. That threw him of balance, but he recovered quickly and was back on his feet before Baz could hit again. Baz grit his teeth and lunged forward once more, but the hooded man was no longer playing. Now that Simon was back, he seemed intent on finishing what he had started. He grabbed Baz by the shoulders and pushed him towards the dark, mahogany book cabinet, not even flinching when Baz’ fist locked with his jaw. The attacker slammed his head against the hard surface, but Baz was tough. He kept aggressively struggling to get away. So the attacker pushed his head again, and again, until Baz lost consciousness and slid motionlessly onto the floor. Simon watched in horror and suppressed a scream, all the while trying to curse the man who was now no longer paying attention to Baz. He had shifted his focus to Simon who was still unceasingly trying to cast a defeating spell.
Simon’s heart skipped a beat and he stumbled backwards as the attacker came at him. He produced every single spell he had ever learned, casting red and green flashes at the attacker, but somehow the man managed to dodge all of them. It was as if he was immune to magic. As if nothing they did could touch him. His back hit the wall and he prepared himself to fight. His breathing quickened. He wasn’t good at this. Not like Baz was. He had never practised physical combat. He had always assumed using his wand would be enough. It seemed silly now. If Baz hadn’t been strong enough to keep him off, he sure as hell wouldn’t be able to do it either.
Two hands, covered in black gloves, slid up his neck and cut of his breathing. He kicked his legs at the attacker, but the man didn’t even seem to notice. Two black eyes glared at him from under the hood and Simon felt the blood drain from his face. He desperately gasped for air, but couldn’t catch any. He felt his limbs go numb. This was the end. The last he would ever see, were the burning black eyes of the attacker trying to strangle him. He was choking and he knew he couldn’t hold on much longer. Every bit of strength and resistance was leaving his body. There wasn’t much left. He closed his eyes in defeat and felt himself drift away.
Simon woke up on the cold, dusty floor of the nursery. It took him a while to realize where he was, but the burning ache in his throat made him remember. He inhaled deeply and although it hurt like hell, he had never felt more relieved. He rolled onto his back and tried to steady his racing heart. Only then did he remember the reason he was lying on the floor, gulping for air. He opened his eyes and let them adjust to the dark. Baz. The attacker. Simon searched the room for a sign of them, but he couldn’t find them until a soft sucking sound near the door caught his attention. He shifted his body toward the exit and stared in revulsion at the two dark figures pressed against the doorframe.
The attacker’s body was lifeless and the only thing preventing him from falling down was Baz, whose head was buried in the man’s neck. It looked as if he was kissing him, only he wasn’t. He couldn’t be. Simon’s mind went blank. It wasn’t hard to fit the pieces together but he didn’t want to think about it. Baz was his roommate. They had been living together for six years. They had obviously never gotten along, but Simon still knew him. Or at least, he thought he did.
It was as if Baz felt hem staring, because he lifted his head and took a step back. The attacker, whose weight was no longer supported, tumbled to the ground. Slowly, Baz turned around. In the shadows of the dusky room, his eyes were darker than they had ever been. His expression was unreadable. Simon could only stare at him. He was speechless. There was blood all over Baz’ face and clothes. Baz tried to wipe his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, but that only made things messier. He cleared his throat.
“We should clean this up.”
His voice was soft and for the first time, there was not a single hint of sarcasm in it. Simon nodded, still unable to say anything.
They worked in silence. Both of them took out their wands. Simon started by repairing the broken objects that were spread all over the room, while Baz removed the bloodstains on the wall next to the door. It took them about an hour to return everything as it was, but at last the only thing off in the nursery was the body of the attacker. Simon was about to ask what they were going to do with it, when Baz raised his wand and blue flames appeared out of nowhere. They curled around the man until nothing but ashes were left of him. Baz mumbled something unintelligible and the ashes disappeared. It was as if nothing had ever happened.
It was Simon who locked the door of the nursery and when he turned around to walk back to his room, he saw that the hallway was already empty. Baz had gone on without him and Simon was grateful for it. When he reached their room, Baz was just crossing the hall to the bathroom on the other side. In the dim light he looked even worse than he had before. Simon entered their room and decided to give him a few minutes before he went to the bathroom himself. He gathered his toiletries and glanced at Baz’ messy bed across the room. He’d always known something was off about his roommate, but he’d never expected it to be this grave. What was he supposed to do? Should he tell the Mage about it? Simon slowly shook his head, although there was no one there to see it. He could never rat Baz out.
He startled when he heard a door slam at the end of the hallway. He left the room and quietly entered the bathroom he shared with the other students of his year at Watford. Baz’ shower was already running. Simon watched the water that was flowing under the cabin. It was red. He couldn’t take his eyes off it. It hypnotised him. He had been standing there for at least five minutes, when he eventually averted them and entered the shower cabin on the other side of the room. It didn’t feel right to take the one next to Baz. Simon locked the door and threw his dirty clothes in the dry corner of his cabin before he positioned himself under the showerhead. He opened the tap and sighed. The familiar feeling of hot water running down his back was a relief.
For the first time that night he allowed himself to think about what had happened and he realised it didn’t bother him. Well, it did, but it didn’t bother him as much as it should. Baz had just saved his life. He had revealed himself in the process, but if it hadn’t been for his roommate, Simon wouldn’t be standing here right now. That was what really mattered. Baz had given up his cover to help a guy he loathed and Simon felt it wouldn’t be fair to repay him with judgement. Not even if maybe he deserved it. It was hard to believe that no one had ever noticed Baz was – different. He couldn’t bring himself to even think the word.
When he left his cabin, Baz was still there, although the water under the door was no longer red. Simon left and went back to their room, again without saying anything. He let himself fall on his bed and groaned. His body was aching in the most impossible places. He had deliberately avoided the mirrors in the bathroom, because he hadn’t wanted to see the strangling marks in his neck, but he could feel they were there. Breathing still hurt. The best thing he could do was go to sleep, but he was waiting for Baz to return. It was almost four o’clock when that finally happened.
“You’re still here.”
Baz was standing in the doorway, hesitantly. Simon opened his eyes and moved himself to a sitting position. He took the other guy in. Baz was wearing a white V-neck shirt that pointed out his flat stomach and his black pyjama bottoms. His wet, dark hair was an entangled mess, but it looked good on him. Everything always looked good on Baz. And yet it seemed as if an entirely different person was standing in their doorway tonight. They had been sharing a room for six years, but this was the first time Baz seemed unsure. It didn’t suit him.
“Where else would I be?”
Baz shrugged.
“Not here, I guess.”
“Well, I am – here.”
Baz rolled his eyes.
“I can see that, Snow.
They both stayed quiet for a while, until Baz broke the silence.
“Can I come in?” he asked warily.
Simon looked up at him.
“This is your room.”
Baz nodded slowly, but still lingered a bit before he entered their shared bedroom. When he did, he walked towards his bed and dumped his stuff on his pillow. Simon noticed his messy clothes were nowhere to be seen. He had probably thrown them away. Baz was standing with his back to him and he could see how tense his shoulders were. They both remained quiet. It was an awkward silence, but Simon didn’t know what to say.
“So – Have you told anyone yet?”
Baz was still facing the wall and avoiding his gaze.
He turned around now and there was genuine surprise on his face.
“Are you going to?”
Simon stared at him for a while.
“Perhaps not.”
“Why not? You hate me.”
Baz walked to the door and cautiously closed it before he slid down and sat on the ground, resting his head against the wall.
“You’ve been trying to get me expelled for years,” he went on. “This would do it.”
Simon considered that for a moment. It was true. He had always made it his life’s purpose to get his annoying roommate expelled, but things were different this year. He had finally gotten used to having him around. Their bickering had become part of his daily routine and he had even started to like it. Baz often drove him crazy, but he had come to appreciate some of his qualities.
“You never actually got expelled,” Simon muttered.
Baz nodded his head in agreement, not sure where this was going.
“They would kill you.”
“I know,” Baz answered quietly.
Simon looked at him. He had closed his eyes and wore a pained expression. No one knew better what it meant to get exposed than Baz himself. It made what he had done for Simon even more extraordinary. People like Baz were considered a threat to society. They couldn’t be trusted and were therefore automatically sentenced to death when they were found out. The Mage was a reasonable man, but he would never allow Baz in his school if he knew what he was. It was a miracle Baz had kept it hidden for so long. Simon took a couple of steps forward and slid down next to him.
“Thank you,” he said. He meant it.
Baz met his gaze, disbelief en disgust all over his face.
“You saved my life.”
“Seriously, don’t. Don’t thank me for – for what I did.”
“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”
Baz shook his head.
“It was repulsive. It makes me sick.”
Simon looked at him curiously. He bit his lip, trying hard not to ask the burning questions. Baz felt his stare and slightly turned his head in his direction.
“Oh, please, Snow. Spit it out. You look like you’re about to wet yourself.”
“You say it makes you sick, but you’re a – you know.”
“Say it.”
“Say the word. You want to know about it? Fine. But you’ve got to say the goddamn word.”
Baz averted his eyes, but his jaw was hard. He clearly hadn’t come to terms with the word himself. Simon swallowed.
“Fine. You say it makes you sick, but you’re a – vampire. Isn’t it what you do?”
It hadn’t been as hard to say it as he’d originally thought. Maybe things would be easier now that the word was spoken.
“It’s not what I do.”
“I don’t understand.”
Baz laughed humourlessly.
“I didn’t expect you to, Snow.”
Simon shook his head.
“Seriously, I want to understand.”
Baz sighed.
“Vampirism usually doesn’t manifest itself until the late teens. The vampire that killed my mum was the one who did this to me. I was bitten when I was still a baby, but I guess I was just a normal kid until last summer. That’s when it all started, the burning, maddening, unsatisfying thirst. My dad had been preparing me for years, so I thought I knew what to expect, but it turns out I didn’t. Nothing could have prepared me for it. The rage in my heart drove me insane. I didn’t leave my room for over a month. There was only one solution for it, one cure. Blood. My dad begged me to take it. He’d stolen blood bags from the hospital so I could go on and have a semi-normal life. I didn’t want them. I didn’t want a semi-normal life. I wanted a normal one. So I’ve been fighting it. Not drinking blood makes me weak and gives me terrible headaches, but I managed just fine. Until tonight.”
Simon was stunned. It was one thing to be a vampire and still try to make the best of it. It was entirely different to fight being a vampire.
“Before tonight, you’d never drunk any blood?”
Baz shook his head.
“Have you any idea how heroic that is? Fighting your nature for the sake of others?”
“Stop doing this, Snow.”
“I mean it.”
“You’re trying to make feel better about myself, but you can’t. Not after tonight.”
“He was going to kill us. Our magic wasn’t working.”
Simon tried to catch his eyes, but Baz was deliberately looking away.
“You did the right thing. You saved us both.”
He was waiting for a reaction, but Baz didn’t talk for a while.
“That’s not what’s been killing me,” he finally said.
“So, what is?”
“You would never understand.”
“Try me.”
Baz clenched his teeth.
Simon glanced sideways and looked at Baz. Really looked at him. There was colour in his face. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before. His cheeks were definitely flushed and his lips were redder than they usually were. And it wasn’t just that. He looked a lot healthier in general. It all made sense now.
“You look better now than you have all year.”
Baz turned his head in his direction. Their eyes locked. Those black burning eyes that Simon knew better than his own, were staring at him.
“I didn’t think you’d noticed, Snow.”
They were sitting a lot closer than Simon had realised, but he didn’t turn away.
“I feel better,” Baz admitted reluctantly.
“Well then, you can now officially go back to properly hating me.”
Baz’ eyes lit up.
“Whoa, Snow. Was that an actual sarcastic remark? I didn’t know you had it in you.”
Simon grinned a bit sheepishly.
“I learned from the best.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward this time. They were just sitting next to each other, their shoulders almost touching, each lost in their own thoughts. The sun was already rising outside, but none of them felt the need to get up and go to sleep.
“If I ask you something, will you be honest?”
Simon was staring at his lap.
“I have never been this honest with you before and now you’re asking me that question?”
Baz realised he was being serious, so he shrugged.
Simon hesitated, as if he was deciding whether he really wanted to know the answer to his question.
“Why do you hate me, Baz?”
Simon looked up, but Baz was already looking away. He was about to ask his question again, when Baz sighed. He turned his head and caught his gaze, so their eyes were meeting a second time. His stare had never before been so intense. His eyes were basically burning into his.
“I don’t hate you, Simon.”
“You don’t?”
Baz shook his head almost unnoticeably.
“No, I do not.”
“You just called me Simon.”
He had never called him Simon before and apparently Baz hadn’t even realized he had said it. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly and he was almost smiling. Simon had never seen him smile before. Not really. Baz was always smirking and mocking.
“Don’t get used to it.”
Now it was Simon’s turn to roll his eyes.
“So, why are we always fighting?”
“Because it’s what we do.”
“That’s not a very reasonable answer.”
Baz shrugged.
“I don’t know, Snow. Maybe it’s because I can’t stand your cocky friends. Or it’s because you can be such a gigantic pain in the ass. You’re always off trying to save people. It’s pathetic.”
He was only half joking and Simon knew it. It didn’t bother him. He had always known Baz couldn’t stand his friends and the feeling was mutual. Agatha sort of liked him sometimes, but Penelope would gladly stick a knife in his back if she’d ever get the chance. As for his trying to save the world, maybe Baz had a point. He’d gotten in some serious trouble tonight and if his roommate hadn’t come to his rescue, he’d probably be dead now.
“So, do you hate me?”
Baz was trying to pull it off teasingly, but Simon didn’t buy it.
“Would I be here if I did?”
“Honestly, I still don’t understand why you’re not running from me.”
His fingers accidently brushed over Simon’s and when he tried to jerk them away, Simon grabbed his hand.
They both froze. Baz obviously hadn’t expected Simon to do that and Simon himself had also been unaware of his movements until they had happened. Yet none of them pulled their hand back.
“I’m not running, because I’m not scared. I never have been.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, but it’s still an irrational reaction.”
Their voices were barely whispers.
“I don’t care.”
Simon got up from the ground and pulled Baz with him. His thumb was absentmindedly stroking Baz’ hand and was definitely not ready to let go. He lifted his head and searched for his eyes. They found each other almost immediately. Simon did a step closer to him and only then did he realize that Baz was frozen into place. His body was perfectly still. Baz had always been the confident one, was always the one who had a witty comment ready. Now the roles were reversed. Simon was the one taking initiative. He took another step and there was barely any space left between them. His free hand trailed across Baz’ chest, followed the V of his shirt. Very gently, his hand slid in his neck, up to his face where his fingers softly traced the lines of his lips. Baz opened his mouth and exhaled. That woke him up and gave him back control.
He yanked Simon with him and pushed him against the wall, his muscled body pressing into him. Every square inch of their bodies touching. Their breathing became heavy and their hearts appeared to be racing each other. His voice was rough.
“Snow, there’s no way back from this.”
“Kiss me.”
And so he did.

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