Work Text:
SIMON
The decision to try to find my father was hard. I still don’t know if I’ve made the right choice or not, but there’s no going back now. I mean, we’ve come all the way out to some town in South Carolina to meet up with someone who knew something about him and my mother, Lucy.
Finding out who my mother was wasn’t hard. It was mainly Penny and Baz, and when Agatha sent me that photo of Mitali, the Mage, and Lucy Salisbury, Penny nearly had a heart attack.
“That’s the woman who we were talking about, Simon! That’s Lucy!”
I’d looked at her awestruck. I hadn’t been paying too much attention to who Lucy was in the first place, but then Baz had sat on the arm of the chair I was in and let his fingers grace my wrist. “It’s hard to comprehend, Simon,” he said. “Lady Salisbury had a daughter named Lucy. She showed us some pictures of Lucy with her father and you’re nearly a spitting image of him. She’d met you before; I don’t know why she’s never said so.”
It was Penny’s turn to hop back in. She’d sat across from me and placed a hand on my knee. “She said she always speculated that Lucy ran off to have a life of her own- not to get away from magick like people believed. She also liked to think that she ended up having a family. Lucy may have had a child and husband, but she still went missing. I think Lady Salisbury just didn’t want to put faith in you when the chances of you being related were so low.”
I’d stared at both of them for a long time after she said that. And when I spoke up I didn’t trust myself. “But they’re not, are they.”
Penny gave me a sympathetic look that I wanted to yell at her for. I’d had too much sympathy already.
Baz however, wrapped my hand in his. He wasn’t too comfortable at the time to be so particularly soft right in front of people’s faces- or maybe just Penny’s, but he still squeezed hard and spoke up. “No. The chances are high. The timeline of Lucy running off and you being born line up almost as perfectly as the Humdrum incidents had.”
I looked down at the picture of Lucy, then at the one Penny had. Of Lucy and her father. William Fanny Salisbury. A funny middle name, but I chose not to say it aloud. I didn’t want to think about it, but chances were that Snow wasn’t actually my last name.
Lucy was big. Wide shouldered, huge smile, and big unruly golden hair. At least in the pictures, she posed proud and strong, muscled thighs and large blue eyes.
Her father was the same, in aspects, but whereas she made me want to stand straighter he made me want to cower back and burn the picture. He stood not much taller than Lucy, a broad man with a mop of the same type of bronze curls on his head. My curls. And my eyes and my smile and my freckles; Just twenty years older than me.
I thought I was going to be sick.
BAZ
With all the people around, it’s not unusual for me to have an extra close eye on Simon. The last time we were somewhere like this I was questioning another vampire on the death of my mother.
Plus, it was painful for him to even make himself want to find out who his parents were. He came out fine when finding out that him and Lady Salisbury were related enough for it to be obvious that he was Lucy’s son (it took Simon two tries to get her to agree to get tested with him. I need to know for sure or not at all , he’d said). A few tears were shed from him upon finding out that Lucy had died the year he was born (Bunce and I did an insane amount of digging), but they seemed more to be tears of relief to at least know that he had had someone.
Finding his father meant finding someone close to them. So I did some digging on Lucy’s Watford class, found out from Mitali who her other friends were (and even friends of her friends). She told me about Lucy dating the Mage, but I haven’t told Simon yet. I have too much faith that he’s not who he might be, even though I know better. I think I’m just selfish to find out if I’m right or not. I hate it.
Now, Simon stands tall at the bar and orders a drink for each of us, a smile on his face as if he doesn't know the reason we're here. I take a stool at a high-top table next to where he stands, but keep my back to the bartender instead of the rest of the crowd. I hate clubs like this. Filled with vampires whether the others know it or not.
“Baz, you've got to loosen up just a tad. All that tension isn't gonna do you any good in the long run.” He hands a drink my way and leans against my side. His next words come out softer. Quieter. More vulnerable. “It's fine if we don't find him. I’ll be just fine, I’ve always been.”
I nod and take a sip. “I know, Simon,” I say. “But there's still no use in not using the resources we’ve got.” He shrugs at that, but it doesn't change my mind.
It's only another minute before I spot who I'm looking for, and as he makes eye contact he bows his head and ducks through the crowd towards our table. I gesture to one of the three stools. Simon keeps his spot standing beside me instead. “Lucy Salisbury had a child that no one knows about. You knew her during her pregnancy.” I raise a brow as if to dare him to question me.
The man, Sylvester, leans back against nothing and raises his chin. “I did, yes. I was close with your father, Simon.”
That's not good enough. “Who was he.” Simon’s shooting daggers.
I don't let Sylvester see me glance at my boyfriend. He’s looking to the side as if pondering his answer. Why he can't just give it to us straight is what's bugging me. People can’t see it, but I can feel Simon’s tail brush against my leg.
“Lucy loved you the second she knew you were even a thought in their minds, but your father solely sought you to be the strongest magician of time; The Chosen One; The Greatest Mage; whatever other names were used.” He pauses. “They succeeded… Lucy died during birth, as you probably know, but you still had a father.”
“Him and Lucy were planning on raising you together, but after her death he couldn't think to do it on his own. He didn't think he'd be a good father- he wouldn’t of been.” He shifts his gaze to Simon now. “You could have had everything if he’d raised you right. If he’d raised you with love.” His eyes flick back to me. “I’d offered to do it myself. To raise him. I knew he wouldn't do it himself. He was too afraid of what the Coven and the Old Families would think if he were to eventually come to power in the magick world and also be the father of The Chosen One.”
“No one would want someone to have that much power. Over the world or the most powerful magician.” I put together his thoughts for him. Simon huffs beside me. I don't think Simon's catching on the way Sylvester wants him to. I don't have the heart to tell him if I don't have to, so I decide to give Sylvester a few more chances.
“So why didn't you raise me?” Alas he speaks. I've been trying to get him to take control of the situation since we started. It was his mystery, after all.
Sylvester shrugs. “He wouldn't let me. Crowley, I wasn't nearly powerful of a magician as he was, I wasn't going to fight him on it. And when Lucy died I pushed again for him to let me help out, but he just shipped you off to an orphanage.” He sounds annoyed, as one should be. But I wouldn't have expected it from him, of all people. “Davy didn't want people to connect you to him, so he sent you away in hopes that no one would notice.”
“Davy?” Simon’s grip on my shoulder tightens harder than he's ever squeezed me before. His face is sickly pale, and he takes a small step back before leaning his weight against me. He looks like he's going to be ill.
He'd accidentally killed his own father a year prior and no one ever had a single clue about it. Fuck . I should have warned him of the possibility, I’m such an arse. It makes me want to smash something. Anything I could get a hand on.
“I need to step outside,” Simon mumbles. I know he can handle himself not to get killed for a few moments, so when I'm alone with Sylvester for the first time tonight I grab him by the neck.
“You should have tried,” I growl. “Merlin, he lost everything because you didn't man up and do the right fucking thing, you cowardly bastard.” I don't know what it is that gives me the mental strength to choke a man, but I surely can't kill one with my bare hands, so I let go and watch as he takes heavy breaths. My pity isn't stretched far with him. I push forward a napkin and subtly spell a second napkin into a pen. “Tell me where we can find Lucy’s grave.”
Sylvester looks at me like I’m crossing a line, but this is the least I can do for Simon. He deserves to make his peace with one of them.
He writes down an address and I stuff the napkin into my pocket. I can feel eyes on me; Two of them a few feet away. I try not to pay any mind to them. They're both short, and neither of them are mages or vampires. If need come I could beat them out no problem.
I don't keep my glance on them too long. There’s no more use for Sylvester at the moment andI really can't stand looking at him longer. Especially when Simon is hurting. Or nearly having a panic attack.
I pull Sylvester close by the collar. “If I see your face in the presence of Simon ever again I’ll steal your wand and your voice.” He nods frantically. He must know of my strength. Otherwise I wouldn't think he'd be thrown off by some nineteen year old.
I leave him as fast as I can and join Simon on the curb. I hold him close to my side and tuck his head my neck to get him to calm down. He does, eventually, and when we head back inside (because Simon really needs some drinks in his system, if I'm honest) he stands at the bar. There's no one too close to us besides the same short blonde and redhead that were looking at me before, but they’re Normals and seem to be minding their own business enough as it is.
Until someone comes up between us two and them two, wraps his arms around Simon’s and the redhead’s waists, and says, “Bet you two would look good in bed together, if you know what I mean.”
It’s the worst sexual innuendo I've ever heard, but the amount of anger and frustration I've got pent up in me right now is over the roof. Nothing at this point could stop me from pulling Simon behind me by the shoulder and landing a punch across the guy’s face just seconds before the little blonde grabs his collar and punches him two more times. Oh, and then wrapping a tight fist around his neck.
“Andrew, stop. He's a lowlife drunk, he's not a threat to us,” the redhead says. He places a hand on the blonde’s, Andrew I presume, arm and says something quieter to him. It only earns a loosened grip on the man’s neck and a more fierce look on his face. The blonde looks deathly. I respect it.
I don't want to get into Andrew’s space (I do have survival instincts), but I come up to the man's side and pull his ear down to my mouth. “Do that one more time and I'll be sure to rip your throat out.” I push his face away. Andrew takes an iron grip on his chin.
“You will walk out of this club before I count to five. If I see you after that I will choke you until you die a cold and lonely death.”
I don't even think it takes half a second for the man to be gone. Andrew looks to his redhead with a bored look. “Stop getting into trouble.”
“As if that one was my fault.”
“Everything is your fault. You are stupid.”
The redhead looks smug. “Yeah, I know.” He nods towards Simon. “I know mine’s got problems, but I gotta say I didn’t expect that out of Dracula.”
I don't fucking look like Dracula.
Simon nods and links one of his fingers into my belt loop. “He likes to get into trouble.” He looks to me for a second. I roll my eyes. I don’t like trouble, it just seems to follow us. “I'm Simon.” When he hesitates, it's not hard to figure out why. Andrew looks deathly.
The redhead catches on easily. “I'm Neil… Andrew.”
Andrew stands in front of Neil and hasn't taken his eyes off of me since the encounter, and I don't think he's about to start now. Instead, adjusts the sleeve of one of his armbands just enough for me to see the blade tucked inside and spares a glance towards Neil. Almost like a you know what will happen to you if you get too close to him.
I’m not fond of being threatened, so I raise a brow, flash an ample amount of one of my fangs, and nod at Simon. Him and Neil are too busy making small talk.
I nearly regret it almost as soon as I do it, because why the fuck would I show that to a stranger- much less a Normal . If it’s not for Andrew’s subtle nod and his move to stand next to his boy rather than in front of him, I would have gotten Simon and I halfway across the country by now. Instead, I give Andrew the same curt nod he'd given me. I don't know whether he’d known that vampires exist before I did that or if he just believed it right off the bat, but either way the mutual respect is appreciated.
Neil nods my way. “Why come from England just to come to this shithole?” He's got an inquisitive wonder, but I don't mind. I was skeptical about anything and everything before I'd gotten with Simon. Now we get to share it- along with Bunce of course.
I nearly answer, but Simon takes the lead on this one. “I just recently found out who my deceased mother was, so we came to talk to someone who’d known her while she was pregnant with me to get him to tell us who my father is.”
It feels like a punch in the gut. That he’d just spit it out like that. Even more so when he keeps going. “Turns out he’s the same guy I accidentally got killed last year.”
“Simon,” I slide my hand onto his back.
He shrugs. “It's true.”
A moment of silence passes between the four of us until Neil clears his throat. “My father was a serial killer and also a part of a Japanese mafia who tried to kill me and have others kill me more than once.” He gestures towards his face and arms. They're covered with the same type of armbands that Andrew is wearing, but I can imagine what may be under them. “I had to bury my mother alone in the sand after a life on the run for most of my life prior to college, because of said mafia and father.”
Neil looks to Andrew, who just stared blankly at his friend (boyfriend?). Neil sighs and talks for him. “Andrew grew up in foster care, had a twin brother he only met until about five years ago, was forced on drugs for a few years because of his temper, and has nearly killed a few people because he's crazy sometimes.” He looks between the two of us. “Sorry ‘bout your family, but everyone's got a fucking sob story, Simon. You can't let it just run your life, alright? Don't try to keep yourself alive, just live while you are.”
Andrew grunts. “Stop this motivational speech, it is pathetic.”
These two are fucked up. I feel bad for them, as much of an arse Andrew can be. I don't know how Neil puts up with him.
Simon shrugs. “Thanks, I guess.” He sounds unsure, but up until now he's always thought he's had it the worst. This time he squeezes my hand. Not anymore, apparently.
Another guy comes up between us two and the other two with a sloppy smile on his face. “You find new friends? That's not like you, Neil!”
“Shut up, Nicky.”
“They fans? Beware, neither of them’ll get pictures with you.” I think he's talking to me now, but I ignore him.
Simon doesn't. “Fans of what?”
The new one, Nicky, looks taken back. I'm not sure why. Normals are strange, I guess. He laughs and shows the screen of his phone; His lock screen is what's probably him playing a sport, but for the life of me I have no clue what it is. It just looks like he's mistaken a lacrosse field for a basketball court.
“Exy!”
Simon looks even more lost than I feel. And when he asks a question to send Nicky and Neil into a full on rant I regret ever coming to the states in the first place.
“What the bloody hell is Exy?”