Chapter Text
Baz
Simon Snow is, actually, Simon Salisbury.
Or, well, technically, Simon Cadwallader–Salisbury. (We’re still not sure where the ‘Snow’ came from.) (Maybe it’s because he was an orphan, like the guy from Game of Thrones).
The thing is, he has a family now. Something I’m incredibly thankful for, because he has me, and Penny, and Agatha (and I guess Shepard and Niamh, now). (I didn’t see that last one coming.), but now he has a blood family, too. Relatives. People he looks like, people who have the same nose, and manners, and laugh the same way he does. People who share his last name, and, apparently, an Excalibur sword. (I wonder if my family has one of those. It would be, in Snow’s words, wicked ).
He got a little overwhelmed about it, at first. Finding out this really nice woman who baked cakes and pastries for him was his grandmother, and the guy we were looking for for weeks (the one who got himself his magic stolen) was his uncle.
That he had parents, but they were both dead.
(That he killed one of them, in fact.)
He didn’t want to go back to Lady Salisbury’s house for a long time. She kept calling us, offering us dinner, or tea, or things you’re supposed to have with family, I guess. He kept making up excuses.
Penny is still in America with Shepard, and he didn’t tell her before she left. He wants to wait until she’s back.
“It’s too big to tell over the phone, Baz.” He said. And he’s right.
He told Agatha, though. She was really supportive.
She’s at Watford, now. She’s doing what used to be Ebb’s work. (I’m still recovering from the fact that it wasn’t just a pity job my mother gave her, but actually something extremely important). (But it’s my mother. I should’ve known). And she seems happier than she I’ve ever seen her while at Watford.
(And she has a girlfriend. Agatha Wellbelove has a girlfriend. I know I shouldn’t be surprised about this, but).
She gave him a picture Headmistress Bunce had given her in our eighth year at Watford. In it, both Simon's parents, and Penny’s mother are laughing at something, looking like regular students. Not like the two future Headmaster/mistress of Watford, or the one who’d give birth to the Greatest Mage. Simon put it in the fridge. Lucy and The Mage look happy, in love. I wish Simon could think about his parents like that, like they were before The Mage went crazy, or whatever happened to him.
Sometimes I think about it. About how his father had my mother killed. About how his father had me kidnapped (by fucking numpties, like Fiona always says). About how his own father almost had him murdered many times.
I don’t think Simon thinks about him as ‘his father’. I don’t think he’s capable of it. But we haven’t talked about that, yet, and I doubt we ever will.
Some nights, he hides his face on my chest and I can feel his tears. Sometimes he sobs, and sometimes he’s silent. I don’t try to have him tell me what’s wrong. I just hold him close, and kiss his head. I make sure he knows I’m here for him.
He got his wings and tail removed last week. He still has to wear bandages around his chest and a dressing on the remnants of his tail. It takes him a lot to get up in the mornings, but I never rush him.
We never have anywhere to be, do we? All we do is sit around and be in love, anyway. (And I wouldn’t change any of it).
It’s hard for him to walk, too. But we take walks everyday (Dr. Wellbelove says he has to get used to all the weight he’s lost, and regain his own balance), even if it’s just around the block. He leans on me, grabbing me by the arm or holding my hand stronger than he should. (I don’t complain).
He still comes with me to hunt. He still smiles at me while I drain rats, like it’s the most incredible thing in the world. I roll his eyes at him, but if I have to be honest – It makes me warm, to know it doesn’t scare him, or repulse him. That I don’t repulse him.
Snow was scared about his surgery – he told me he needed me there, to hold his hand, metaphorically and literally. And I did. I went with him, held his hands as Niamh (Wellbelove’s girlfriend.) (Am I repeating myself?) disinfected his wings and tail and put him under. I couldn’t get into the operating room, but I was there with him when he woke up.
His grandmother, too. He had called her the day before, telling him about what was going to happen.
“Could you come with? Baz might need company. It will be a long procedure.” He had asked, in a small voice. Lady Salisbury had sighed, contently.
“Of course, my child.” She had said.
She brought him a plate full of sour cherry scones. (Snow cried).
Now, we’ve promised Lady Salisbury to go to her house every Sunday, for lunch. Last week, Simon was really uncomfortable (he wasn’t supposed to be sitting for so long, what’s left of his tail hurts a lot). We left too early for Lady Salisbury’s liking (she didn’t say, but I could tell). Simon’s hoping this week will be better.
He’s having a shower now. I’ve placed the clothes for him on the bed. (It’s an actual bed now, not just a mattress on the floor. We went to IKEA two days before his surgery to pick it up, because we both knew he’d want to be comfortable) (We ended up buying a wardrobe too, so his clothes aren’t on a pile on the floor anymore). (We also bought two nightstands. If my heart still beat, it’d have fluttered). He’ll be wearing a flowy red shirt and the softest linen pants I could find, so the clothes won’t bother his scars. They’re black, which is kind of a problem because it’s still hot outside, but Lady Salisbury’s house is cold (or so Simon says). (Maybe he meant old).
I’m getting dressed when he walks out of the bathroom. He’s wearing a towel around his waist, and he stops to look at me. He’s frowning a little, his lips pursed. I look down at my body – there’s nothing wrong, I think. No scars, no scratches.
“Too hot.” He simply says, walking towards the bed, dropping the towel and putting on a pair of boxers. He winces, when the band comes in contact with the dressing on his lower back. “I couldn’t reach the ones in the back.” He says. “Can you do them for me?”
I nod, getting the bandages from his cabinet in the bathroom. When I go out, he’s already got his pants on (a shame). I walk behind him, placing my arms around his waist, pressing a kiss between the two forming scars on his back. He lets out a sigh, and, with the gentlest hands, I put the bandages on.
Simon
It’s still weird to go to Lady Salisbury’s house. Ruth’s house. My grandmother’s house.
Whatever.
It’s still weird, because I know they’re my family, but only on the surface. It hasn’t… taken in, I guess. I still haven’t processed this information. I have a new sword at home now. The sword of the House of Salisbury. My house. My family. My mother’s family.
Ruth doesn’t treat me any different – I think she treats everyone like they’re their family. Or maybe she doesn’t want me to get too overwhelmed. He treats Baz just the same, and I don’t know if it’s because she’s too happy I’m here she doesn’t care he always comes with, or because she knows we’re together.
We haven’t told her, but…
She doesn’t look bothered by it. By him being a Pitch. Or a boy.
She definitely doesn’t know he’s a vampire, but I don’t think it’d bother her if she did.
I guess it wouldn’t bother me if she was a vampire either, but I’m sleeping with one, so maybe I’m a little biased.
I drop Baz’s hand when we get to Ruth’s door. (I think it bothers him that I haven’t explicitly told my family that he’s my boyfriend. But he hasn’t said anything, yet. I think he knows I’m a bit overwhelmed about all this).
He rings the door, and leans just a tiny bit closer to me. I look at him, grinning. I want him to know I’m happy he’s here. He smiles back. (He knows).
The door opens, and I’m about to greet when I see who’s on the other side of the door.
“Simon?” The girl says, smiling. She’s wearing a Star Wars T-shirt with baggy short jeans and fishnets, and big black boots. You can see the top of her striped socks over the boots. She kind of looks like that American singer who has her hair black with green roots. “Hi! It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Lucy.”
She places her hand right in front of me, and I frown, staring at it. I stare at her. Her smile doesn’t falter.
“Lucy, are you bothering our guests?” Ruth’s voice comes from the inside of the house, and a few seconds later, she shows up at the door. “Go inside. Help your father set the table.”
Lucy rolls her eyes, still smiling, and walks inside the house. Ruth stays at the door.
“Come inside, my child, Baz. Lunch is almost ready.”
Baz
Lunch is weird.
We’re all sitting around the table; Snow between me and his uncle. Ruth and the girl (Lucy, she said her name was) sit in front of us. No one’s acknowledged the fact that it’s the first time we see her here. Or that her name is the same as Simon’s mother’s.
Or her horrendous American accent.
“Simon, can you pass me the salt?” She says, with the accent. It’s worse than Shepard’s. It kind of sounds like the faint accent Agatha had when she came back with us from America, so I’m guessing she’s from California.
Her voice startles Simon, who drops his fork, but he grabs the salt and gives it to her. She winks at him. I frown.
I see Ruth smile at me, and she places her hand on Lucy’s forearm.
“Lucy,” she says. “Give Simon a little time to get used to you.”
“Yeah, sweetheart.” Jamie agrees. “He’s barely gotten used to us .”
Lucy smiles empathetically at Simon.
“Sorry. I probably came in too strong, didn’t I? I tend to do that. Sorry.” She says.
Not only does she have the worst accent, she also speaks too fast. Faster than Bunce when she’s planning. (And that’s really fast. If talking was Athleticism, Bunce would be Bolt). (Sometimes I think Simon’s obsession with me plotting was born from the way Bunce plans things. She looks like a cartoon villain sometimes, I swear to Merlin).
“It’s… Fine.” Simon answers, simply. I put my hand on his thigh as discreetly as I can, squeezing. He’s nervous, and confused. His bandages are comfortable and his back is probably in pain. I wonder if we should leave as soon as lunch is over, again.
“She’s my daughter.” Jamie explains, finally, although I kind of got that from Lady Salisbury telling her to go help ‘her father’ earlier.
She looks like Simon, too. Same nose, same bow on her upper lip. She scrunches her nose the same way he does when he finds something ‘yucky’ in his plate. (He says that. A grown 20-year-old honestly looked at me from his vegetable plate and told me spinaches were ‘yucky’). Her hair is black, but it’s obviously dyed. I can see the blond roots even from here. It’s curly like Simon’s, but hers falls all the way to the middle of her back. Her eyes are as blue as Simon and Jamie’s. She’s definitely a Salisbury.
“After your mother disappeared, I went to California for a while to look for her.” Jamie says, smiling, nostalgic. “That’s where I met her mother.”
“By ‘meeting my mother’ he means he got wasted at a ‘Mages-only’ club and had sex with a stranger in the back of a car.” Lucy explains. Jamie shoots a look at her, and Lady Salisbury lets out a laugh. “What? It’s the truth. And it’s not like I’m embarrassed. I didn’t do anything.”
Jamie shakes his head, sighing, and looks back down at his plate.
“I live with my mom in Los Angeles, but I come here every summer.” She says. Los Angeles. Of course. She’s probably neighbors with, like, fifty Netflix actors. “And Dad and Grandma go there every Christmas. But now I’m here for good!”
“She’s going to college here.” Jamie explains. “She’s just a couple of years younger than you guys.”
I look at Simon. He’s frowning at her, still. He opens his mouth, but doesn’t say anything. I decide it’s best if I take over.
“I thought America had really good schools.” I say. She smiles at me, nodding.
“It does. But Grandma is paying for my tuition, and she said she’d only do it if I came here. At first I was, like, kind of bummed about it, but then Dad called me and told me I have a famous cousin and I could not not come here.”
“So you’re here for Simon?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. She smiles, pointing at me with her fork, and winks.
“And the money.”
Lady Salisbury, rolling her eyes, slaps her arm. Lucy giggles. I guess she was joking, then.
“I don’t know who you are, though.” She says, looking at me up and down.
I’m about to reply when Simon finally speaks.
“He’s my boyfriend. Basilton.” I smile. He’s placed his hand on top of mine, on the table, for anyone to see. Simon gets jealous pretty easily. It’s like he still doesn’t know how gay I actually am. Especially for him. “We call him Baz.”
“Oh, cool! Welcome to the family too then, Baz.” She says, raising her glass. I raise mine, too. Lady Salisbury and Jamie do the same. Simon doesn’t move. He’s still studying his cousin. I elbow him, and he looks around before he imitates us. “To the Salisbury house!” Lucy says, giggling.
“To the Salisbury house.” I reply.
Simon
I don’t know how, but my grandmother guilt-trips me into doing the dishes with my cousin.
That’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.
I’m washing, and she’s drying and putting the things into the cabinets. Ruth doesn’t have a dishwasher (I guess because she can do this stuff with her wand), but Lucy isn’t using magic, either.
“Where’s your wand?” I ask. Lucy looks at me. She’s shorter than me, but not by a lot. I think it’s because she’s wearing chunky Doctor Martens. I wonder how tall she actually is, barefoot. She has put her hair in a low ponytail, only tight enough to keep it out of her face.
“In my boot, why?” She says, wiggling her left foot.
“Why don’t you use your magic, then?” She shrugs.
“I always do dishes like this at home. My mother is a Mage, too, but my grandfather wasn’t. She was raised doing these kinds of chores the Normal way, so I grew up like that, too. Grandma actually likes it. She thinks it teaches kids ‘responsibility’. And the dishes end up cleaner…” She eyes at my hands, under the tap, scrubbing at a grease stain in one of the plates. “If you know how to do it.”
I don’t answer. (I scrub harder).
“Dad told me you lost your magic. I’m sorry about that. And about your parents, too. We all thought… We all thought Aunt Lucy was actually out there, that she had escaped him. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I say. I don’t want to talk about it. She’s my cousin, genetically – but she’s still a stranger.
“Dad said there’s a painting of her at Watford, in the Catacombs?” I nod. “Do you think your father buried her there?”
My father. The Mage.
The Mage, who I killed.
“I don’t know. I didn’t even know it was her.”
“Grandma told me your father used you. I’m sorry for that, too.” She says. I nod again. “Simon. I know… I’m pushing, am I not?” I nod. There’s no point in lying. “I’m sorry. I just want you to know I… We are your family. And we would never hurt you, not intentionally. I know Aunt Lucy loved you a lot. We do, too. We care about you. Grandma and Dad looked for you for so long… Aunt Lucy wrote Grandma a lot of letters. I’ve read them. And she spoke about you, about waiting for you. She’s still got them. You should ask her for them. The way she talked about you...”
I can’t hear her anymore. I’m trembling, and I keep looking down at the dishes. I feel like I’m about to go off, but I can’t go off, because there’s no magic in me anymore. I hear a crack, and suddenly, the water in the sink is red.
I had a glass in my hand, didn’t I?
Circe.
“Circe.” Lucy says, staring at the water, too; and I frown. “Let me… Baz, can you come here!?” She yells through the door.
“No!” I shout. “Baz, don’t! Call Ruth!”
Baz shows up at the door of the kitchen, and I push my hand deeper inside the water, turning it into a fist. Still, I see his nostrils twitch, and his jaw clenches. He’s trying to pull his fangs back in.
“Grandma, I need the first aid kit!” Lucy says, running away from the kitchen.
“Are you okay?” Baz asks. I nod.
“It’s just a scratch.” Baz nods, too. He hesitates. I know he wants to step closer. But it’s risky. He hasn’t drank anything since last night. “Baz, I’m fine.”
“I know, I just…” Lucy runs back in. She grabs my arm, putting my hand under the tap. She takes a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit, and looks closer.
“I’ll take the crystals out of your hand, okay?” I nod. Baz is at the door, staring. “Baz, I need you to cast “Light of day”. ” Baz obeys. She stares at him, eyebrows raised. “Closer, dude.”
“No, it’s fine. Baz, you don’t have to.” I say. Lucy shushes me. Baz steps closer, and his jaw clenches harder, and I see his fist twisting.
Lucy expertly takes the crystals out of my hand, and then she cleans the wound. She bandages it, putting a dressing on it first, just in case it starts to bleed again. When she’s done, she closes the first aid kit, and looks at Baz.
“You have a lot of restraint. I heard love was stronger than thirst, but that was incredible.”
Baz’s mouth hangs open. “Light of day” dies on his wand. Lucy is smiling, cocky, and I feel like something is about to happen.
Baz
She knows.
How does she know?
Circe, does his whole family know?
She made me do this… And she knew?
What the hell is wrong with this girl?
“Don’t look at me like that. I’ve been in Silicon Valley. I can spot a vampire when I see one.”
She’s been in Silicon Valley. With the NowNext people, probably.
And she didn’t get captured?
This girl is… She’s…
She’s just like Simon.
Bold, and brave. And mule headed and stubborn enough to convince a vampire to cast some light onto an open wound while she took care of it.
Acting before she thinks. Speaking before she thinks.
Those blue eyes, and that smirk. It’s all Simon.
She’s girl-Simon.
It’s terrible.
The world doesn’t need two Simons.
“Don’t worry. Dad and Grandma don’t know, and I won’t tell. They’ll find out when you don’t age, I guess, but…”
“I do age.” I revoke. Because it’s the truth. I’ve been getting older, haven’t I? And Nico said… “I’m not immortal.”
“You’re not?” Simon and her ask, at the same time.
It’s creepy. They have the same way of talking, too. They end questions the same way. Even with her awful accent, it’s like hearing Simon try to imitate an American girl.
“I’m not. I don’t drink people, so I age.”
“Lamb told you that?” Simon asks, defensive. I roll my eyes. He’s never letting that go.
“No. Nicodemus did.” I say. Then, in a whisper: “He’s marrying my aunt.”
“Fiona!?” Simon asks, louder than expected. I sigh.
Lucy is looking at us. She’s clearly amused, leaning against the counter, her arms crossed in her chest.
God, it’s like an emo-version of Simon.
With tits.
And a terrible accent.
“I’ll explain it to you later, alright?” I say. He raises his chin, defensively, but nods anyway.
Lucy grabs the first aid kit and leaves the room. Simon follows her with his eyes.
“Do you like her?” I ask. Simon shrugs.
“I don’t know. She’s…”
“Yeah. I get what you mean. She’s your cousin, though. Your family.”
“You have a lot of cousins, and you’re not close to any of them. Dev, maybe. Have you even seen him since Watford?”
“Nope. His witty comments are too exhausting.” I walk closer to him.
“Is he a homophobe?” He asks.
“Just a Simon Snow-phobe.” I joke, and he giggles. I can still smell his blood, but it’s faint now. I grab him by the waist, and press a kiss to his lips. “Anyway. You see how it’s different for you, no?”
Simon nods, but I don’t think he’s heard my question, because he’s kissing me again.
His hand (the one that’s not bandaged) flies to my hair, tugging at it. I smile, still kissing him back.
“Cute.” A voice says. Lucy’s voice. She’s come back to the kitchen, I guess. “But the dishes won’t finish washing up by themselves.” She grabs me by the back of my neck, and drags me towards the sink. “Simon can’t get his bandage wet, so it’s your turn, pretty boy. You wash, I dry.”
“You know there’s a spell for this, right?” I say. I feel Simon’s stare on the back of my neck.
“Shut up. We’re doing it the Normal way.”
I sigh, and I hear Simon chuckle behind us. From the corner of my eye, I see Lucy smile.
Simon
I still don’t know how to feel in general about my cousin (about the fact that I have a family), but right now, I’m scared.
Apparently, no one had bothered to tell her her father lost her magic. Apparently, nobody bothered to tell me that they hadn’t told her . And apparently, I have a big, big mouth.
Lucy is screaming at her father now, who looks as embarrassed as I’ve ever seen him. I haven’t seen him much, but still.
He’s pretty embarrassed.
And as scared as I feel, that’s for sure.
“Lucy, I didn’t think…”
“That’s the thing, Dad! You never think! You just act! Everything has a consequence, don’t you know?” She groans. “What made you think that guy could multiply your magic, huh? Not even Simon could do that! And he was the Chosen One!”
I open my mouth to interject, but she goes back to screaming.
“And you lost it forever! And Grandma had to hire these two to find you!? Is that where you were when you told me you were going to the countryside for a while? I thought you had a girlfriend! I thought you had gone back to Jess! But you were sucking the magic out of yourself!?”
“Lucy…”
“No, Dad, this is… This is… This is the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever done. And I’m an accident-baby!”
“Honey, don’t speak to yourself like that.” Ruth says.
“Grandma, this is not about me! This is about him, and his stupid desire of being powerful! You already have power, Dad. You had it. You just needed to practice. You could’ve learned with me. You could’ve trained yourself with me. You could’ve seen a speech therapist. But you didn’t . Maybe you weren’t as powerful as Aunt Lucy, maybe Watford didn’t want you, so what? Why does a stupid boarding school get to decide your worth?” She kneels in front of her father, putting both hands on his cheeks. “Dad. You could have… You shouldn’t have done this. You should’ve told me.”
“I know. I know, sweetheart.”
Lucy sighs. Her hands drop, and she stands up, slowly.
“I need some air.”
She announces, and she walks to the door. She leaves.
I look at Ruth, then at Jamie.
“I’ll go with her.” I say.
I stand up, grabbing Baz by the arm, dragging him with me. We leave the house, too, and look around, trying to find her.
“She’s not here.” Baz says. I look at him.
“Can you smell her?”
He raises his eyebrow.
“I’m not a hound.” I keep staring at him. Baz sighs. “Okay, fine.”
He starts walking in one direction, his hand firmly in mine. He looks sure of his steps, his frown stern, and I can barely see him actually sniffing. I can, because I know his face. I know his gestures, better than I know my own. Every tic, every twitch, every habit. Everything, intentional or not, I know it.
“There she is.” He says, pointing forwards. She’s still got her hair in that low ponytail. Her chunky boots make a loud sound against the floor.
“Lucy!” I call out for her. She stops, for a second, but keeps walking. “Lucy!”
She’s walking faster. I look at Baz, who nods. I release his hand, and he goes. He’s faster than me, faster than any human. He grabs her by the arm, and whispers something in her ear. I look around, because it looks weird from the outside. No one seems to pay attention, so I ran to them.
“Lucy.” I say. “Are you–” She looks at me.
She’s crying.
I don’t like it when people cry. I can only console one person: Baz. And it’s only because I know what he likes. I throw a panicked look at Baz, who sighs, putting his hand on top of Lucy’s shoulder.
She pushes him away. Then turns around, and starts walking again.
“Lucy…” I walk with her. Baz follows. “Let’s talk.”
“About what? About my father losing his magic? About you losing your magic? About the Salisbury magic getting lost?”
“Well, you still have your magic.” I say. I can’t really think of anything else at the moment. Lucy groans.
“Great. A great responsibility, truly. To have the weight of the family on my shoulders. I don’t even want kids.”
“Technically,” Baz says. “It changes nothing. Simon wasn’t in the picture before, and your father doesn’t have more kids. And we don’t even know if a potential kid would inherit the magic, either. They’ve lost their magic, but not the fact that they’re…”
“Shut up. Shut up.” Lucy says. She’s trembling. Her hands are on fists on both her sides, and she’s closing her eyes with all her strength.
“Baz.” I say. He nods. He’s seeing it, too.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Lucy is muttering.
“Lucy, you need to calm down.” Baz says. I put my body in front of his.
He’s still flammable.
“It wasn’t supposed to go like this.”
Tears are running down her cheeks. She’s trembling harder. She’s red in the face.
“It was supposed to… This was not…”
And then, my cousin goes off.