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It started when Simon was helping Gran clean out her attic.
She’d been complaining about the “clutter” (honestly, Simon didn’t think it was that bad at all) for ages, and Baz was starting up a new semester at uni, so Simon had all the time in the world. He offered to help her look through everything and she gladly accepted.
They’d done most of the house already, but the attic was a big undertaking. Simon would open a box, try to get a feel for what was in it, then pass it down to Jamie for him to look through. Nan would then label the box so that, after they’d pulled down a few, they’d know what they were looking through. It was a bit cramped, with Simon’s wings, but Jamie was afraid of spiders.
Some boxes were already labeled, which saved them some time. (Although actually going through the boxes was the biggest time suck). (Nan was very sentimental, turns out). (Simon loved hearing her stories).
The box was unassuming. A small, green bin, with no identifiers, hiding near the back of the attic. Simon crouched down and opened the lid, expecting more Christmas decorations or another set of Jamie’s old vinyls.
Inside, there were shoeboxes, stacked one on top of the other. It looked like Nan’s writing was on a couple, but it had faded to the point where Simon couldn’t read it.
Opening one of the shoeboxes wasn’t any more enlightening to Simon. There were dozens of small black squares with white borders. Simon frowned, picking one up to examine it. He shined his torch on it, squinting at it, and was shocked to find… a picture?
“Hey, Jamie?” he called. “Think I found some old photos?”
“Photos?” Jamie questioned, climbing the thin ladder to poke his head into the attic. “I thought we already found all the photos.”
Simon shrugged and held the square up for Jamie to see. “I dunno. Different ones?”
Jamie’s face lit up with a grin when he saw what Simon was holding. “Mum!” he shouted, “Simon found your slides!”
Simon hadn’t heard of a “slide” before, but he packed it away and closed the lid of the box. He could hear Nan’s excited shuffling downstairs, coming closer to the attic entrance.
Simon passed the box to Jamie and climbed down after him. Nan seemed happier than he’d seen her since she’d found out they were family.
“Oh, all these years I’ve been trying to find these and it was right upstairs! Your father must have put them up there at some point. Never could keep track of everything…” She pulled out a few of the shoeboxes to reveal a slightly larger box underneath containing what looked like a projector.
“Are they just old photos?” Simon asked, still a bit lost.
Nan unpacked the projector as Jamie answered. “They’re Mum and Dad’s old photos! Must have been from… What years do you think, Mum?”
Nan hummed, considering. “Well, I know your father had his Kodak while he was overseas, so probably 60’s through early 70’s, if I had to guess.”
Simon watched curiously as Nan got the projector running, sliding several of the photos into a circle on the top before flipping it on.
The few photos weren’t much to Simon. Mostly landscapes, buildings, and cars. Nan seemed delighted, though, trying to figure out where and when each photo was taken. One of the cars, a red Aston Martin, had apparently been Simon’s grandad’s at the time. He found himself wishing they still had it.
The first photo with a person in it was of his grandfather in his casual RAF uniform. Simon had seen photos of him by now, thanks to Nan, but he was nearly unrecognizable. He was at least 20 years younger here than in any of the other photos Simon had seen thus far.
They kept coming after that. There were a lot of his grandad when he was overseas. By himself, with his friends. There were lots of pictures of his friends, too, and Nan told stories of the ones she could remember. There was even a couple of him in one of the planes, which Simon thought was really cool.
They got through a whole box of those, Jamie writing notes and labels as they went, before Nan showed up.
The picture looked like it was taken in the Netherlands, if the tulips were any indication. There Nan stood, holding onto his grandad’s arm.
“See, I was quite pretty back then,” Nan sighed, smiling wistfully at the image. Jamie and Simon both immediately protested that she was still beautiful, as they tended to do on the rare occasion where Nan needed a pick-me-up. Nan laughed, assuring them that she was only joking.
“Let’s see, this would have been… 1965, I believe? Goodness, I was your age back then, Simon.”
Something about that simple statement floored Simon. It shouldn’t have been surprising, given how old the photos were, but it felt different, actually processing the fact that she had been so young in the photo he was looking at.
It made him feel… strange. He didn’t know how to articulate the emotion, only that it was slightly overwhelming. The feeling spiked again when they got to the Christmas photos from that same year.
“Oh, would you look at that! Simon, dear, do you know who that is?”
Frankly, Simon didn’t. Not at first. He frowned, examining the photograph.
It was a baby, being cradled in someone’s arms, though the person holding the baby was cut out of the frame. The baby looked like they had been crying, a soft pout on their face. They had a shock of thick, black hair on their head and a reddish-gold complexion that sent a shockwave of familiarity through Simon’s body.
“Is that Baz’s mum?!” he exclaimed, bewildered.
Nan chuckled. “It certainly looks like little Natasha, doesn’t it? She was such a sweet child. Loved our dog at the time.”
Simon stared at the photograph, those feelings from before welling up within him. He snapped a photo of the projection on his phone, and Nan set the slide aside for when Baz came to pick him up later.
The feeling never really settled as they went through the rest of the photos. Every photo that had one of Baz’s family members in it was set aside for him, kept carefully in order so that they could be put back later.
Jamie was talking about getting the slides digitized when Baz arrived, letting himself in.
“Hello, love,” he smiled, giving Simon a quick kiss as he sat next to him on the sofa. He noticed the projector before he could ask about Simon’s day.
“Ruth, is that who I think it is?” he asked, a sparkle in his eyes as he examined the current photo being projected - Nan and Grandad in front of Buckingham Palace in the late 60s. “Why, you haven’t aged a day.”
Nan laughed, swatting in Baz’s direction. “Oh, hush. Didn’t you know that it’s rude to lie to your elders?”
Baz dramatically placed a hand over his heart, acting appalled. “Why, I would never!”
Simon smiled as he watched the two interact. It had certainly become his favorite hobby over the past year. While Baz continued to chat with Nan, Jamie loaded up the slides from earlier.
“Uh, Baz? We found some photos we thought you might like,” Simon told him, taking his hand.
Baz raised an eyebrow at Simon. “Oh?”
Jamie switched to the first slide - that photo of Baz’s mum as a baby. Simon gently nodded towards the screen. Baz turned his head and gasped, grip tightening on Simon’s hand.
They sat in silence for a while, letting Baz process what he was seeing. When Baz looked at Jamie, Jamie switched to the next photo - one of Baz’s grandmother helping his mum try to walk. They went through each slide, one-by-one, in total silence. At one point, Nan stood to make tea and get some cake for everyone.
Simon just held onto Baz as he silently cried.
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Two days later, it was films.
Jamie had taken over for Simon - braving the possibility of spiders because Baz had snitched on the fact that Simon’s wings were cramping.
Things had mostly settled emotionally. They’d found some old baby clothes the day before from when Simon’s mum and Jamie were little, which had made Simon’s heart clench, but that weird feeling hadn’t come back.
Jamie passed a brown briefcase down to Simon before climbing down, grinning like a madman.
“Mum, I found the old Super 8’s!”
Nan looked up from the cake she’d been icing, smiling wide. “Snakes alive, I’m starting to think that Andrew was hiding everything up there on purpose!”
Jamie laughed, opening the briefcase to show Simon.
It was filled to the brim with tiny film reels, labeled with things like “X-MAS ‘78,” “GERMANY ‘72,” and, what caught Simon’s attention the most, “JAMIE’S 1ST B-DAY.” Nan went through the motions of setting up the new projector, carefully threading the film through.
The first film was the trip to Germany. Simon felt that weird feeling start to come back as he watched.
There wasn’t any sound, but Nan’s mannerisms were the exact same as they were now. She swatted her hand at the camera, shooing the cameraman away. She did a little dance that he was sure he’d seen her do before when she got excited over something, and Simon’s heartbeat stuttered.
That was not to mention his grandpa. When the camera turned on him, he would make faces at it. The camera would shake while Nan laughed. He was wearing his uniform in a couple of the films, and Simon couldn’t help but imagine what it would have been like to grow up around this man that was so clearly a light in his family’s life, if the bittersweet looks on Nan and Jamie’s faces were anything to go by.
They worked through a couple hours of tapes before Nan started getting teary. Simon couldn’t really figure out what had caused it, but he assumed it was because she missed her husband. That was, until he started to notice the way her stomach had grown in the videos.
They ended one film reel (another Christmas party, this one guest starring a 10-year-old Natasha Pitch that Baz would have to see later) and Jamie’s breath audibly caught when they started the next.
Simon could do nothing but stare as he watched Nan gently rock the baby in her arms. The baby was still an infant, still shivering and slightly red, but she had a shock of blonde hair on top of her head already. Simon briefly wondered if he’d been the same, when he was born.
He watched in awe as the baby grew over the next half hour. Watched as Nan pulled her along in a tiny sled, bundled up in a giant coat. Watched for ten minutes, completely entranced, as she attempted to get her little legs under her to stand for the first time, never quite succeeding. Watched as Grandad held her hands, helping her toddle around the zoo. Watched as she learned to ride the little tricycle she got for Christmas when she was two.
Nan was crying openly now, and Jamie wasn’t much better. Simon hadn’t realized until the film reel ended that he was crying, too. Jamie started the next one without a word.
This one had her third birthday, Nan heavily pregnant as she helped her daughter with the candles. The little girl dug in with her fork, pulling away small chunks and feeding them to her parents, alternating who got each bite, as they laughed. Nan looked uncomfortable when the little girl wasn’t looking. She’d probably had the first hints of labor pains by then.
Then baby Jamie was there. His sister held him gently, cradling him like he was something precious. As Jamie grew up throughout the film, his sister was always there, helping him try to walk, playing with him as much as a baby could play, and shushing him while he cried.
And of course, that wasn’t all. The films continued through the mid-1980s, allowing Simon to watch his mother grow up. It sent sharp pangs through his chest to realize that she’d never been allowed the chance to watch him grow.
When the final reel came to an end, Nan just stood up and went back to the kitchen. Jamie stared at the screen for a few long moments.
“She was the best sister I could have ever asked for, you know?”
Simon nodded, not taking his eyes off the screen either. “I wish I’d gotten the chance to meet her.”
That set Jamie off again. This time, though, he smothered Simon in a tight hug. “Merlin, she would have loved you. She does love you, I’m sure of it.”
Simon was extra clingy that night. He refused to let Baz out of his octopus grip as he cried to him.
Baz was good about it, though. He just held him and let him process his feelings on his own. He knew Simon would always come to him when he was ready.
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They were down to the final day of attic cleaning.
Things had been pretty productive that week. Simon loved hearing the stories Nan told about all the items they’d found upstairs, especially because it kept him from being alone with his thoughts for too long.
He’d talked to Penny a few times that week. She kept pushing him to call his therapist about the films and his reaction to them, but it felt too fresh and much too personal to confide in someone he’d only been seeing for a few months.
Jamie was quiet as he brought the final box down from the attic, a bittersweet smile on his lips.
“It’s the old VHS tapes.”
Simon felt like the ground had opened out from underneath him. It had already been too much to watch his mum grow up without sound, but with? It was simultaneously everything he could have hoped for and everything he was terrified of.
“We can wait to go through them if it’s too much, dear,” Nan said, reaching out to cradle his face in her warm hands.
Simon bit his lip, considering for a moment, but the idea of dragging this out any longer made his skin itch, so he shook his head. “I’m fine. Let’s go through them.”
Simon busied himself with setting the VCR up, since he remembered how to use them. Jamie went through the tapes, sorting them into piles of labeled tapes and ones where the labels had fallen off.
Simon’s nerves settled a bit when the first tape started on an old taping of some BBC segment. He took control of the VCR, pausing and fast forwarding it for a while before checking to see if it was still a show.
By the time they’d gone through three tapes of just shows and movies, the tension in the room had eased quite a bit. Simon even laughed as a Playboy film came on. Nan laughed even harder, accusing Jamie of having recorded it. Simon believed Jamie’s quick denials (especially since he’d probably been too young when it was taped), but his face was red enough to send him into another fit of laughter.
The first home video came halfway through the fourth tape. The date in the corner declared that it was a few days before Christmas in 1989. The video focused on the Christmas tree, sitting in the same place where he and Jamie had put it up this past year. There was a moment where the screen went entirely blue before being replaced by Nan, wrapping gifts at the table.
She didn’t seem to notice the camera for a minute. When she looked up, she immediately tried to cover the camera lens.
“Andrew, don’t you dare!”
Her voice was the same as it was now, but it was still a bit overwhelming to hear it coming from such a young face.
“Ruth, my darling, the children will want to see you in these videos, too! Besides, your beauty simply must be captured.”
Simon moved to the sofa to sit with Nan and Jamie. They remembered his grandad, and his voice clearly had an effect on both of them. Simon wrapped his wing around them both and laid his head on Nan’s shoulder.
“Oh, hush! You’re going to crack the lens if you keep that up. Now go find Lucy and Jamie.”
Simon’s wing twitched when the shot cut to a teenaged Lucy, regaling her little brother with tales of Watford.
“Jamie, you’re going to love it there! Me and Mit can play footie with you and your roommate and they’ll be able to help you with your magic and we can finally eat all our meals together again!”
The Jamie on screen frowned at her. “But Mum’s cake.”
Lucy waved that off dismissively. “Mum makes amazing cake, but you’ve never lived until you’ve tried a sour cherry scone and the roast beef is to die for. Plus, you can eat however much you want!” She looked around conspiratorially. “Don’t tell Mum, though,” she whispered.
Jamie then noticed the camera and started giggling uncontrollably. Lucy whipped around, her eyes widening as she looked directly into the camera. “Dad, no! Delete that!”
Simon’s body wracked with sobs as his mum tried to tackle her father, lightly hitting him and whining about how he was being unfair. Jamie shifted to the other side of Simon, pulling him into a tight embrace. Nan carded through his curls in firm strokes as he cried over the mother he never knew he lost.
The tears stop eventually, but the tapes don’t. Jamie takes over the controls again, skipping through the non-family stuff.
Simon watches as his mum shows up less and less frequently, growing up even more with each holiday and birthday. Penny’s mum makes quite a few appearances over the summers, which only makes Simon yearn for the life he could have had even more.
A doting mother, grandparents, and uncle.
A childhood spent playing with Penny every summer.
Penny’s mum being Simon’s godmother and Simon’s mum being Penny’s.
No care homes, no loneliness, and no shortage of love.
They’re down to three more tapes when the Mage makes an appearance, and suddenly Simon can’t take anymore. The Mage walks in, pulling his mum into his side with a roguish grin and placing a kiss on her cheek, and Simon can’t do it.
“Hello, Lady Ru-” the tape abruptly cuts off as Simon rips the VCR’s plug out of the wall with much more force than necessary.
The sadness from before has transformed into pure, all-consuming hatred for the man that took away his childhood and lied to him about it the entire time. Simon fumes, clenching his fists until his bitten-off nails begin to dig into his skin uncomfortably.
He hadn’t seen her get off the couch, but Nan takes his hands in hers. She gently, but firmly, coaxes his grip open, squeezing his hands reassuringly.
“I think we’re done sorting through everything, don’t you think?”
“Yeah that’s the last of it,” Jamie says emphatically, grabbing the two unwatched tapes and placing them on top of the VCR.
The anger bleeds out of Simon, quickly replaced by guilt. “I- I’m sorry.”
Nan scoffs. “Pish posh. I’d have done worse if you hadn’t beaten me to it. Might’ve smashed the telly.”
Simon smiles down at her, still somewhat cautious. Jamie looks thoughtful.
“If you’ll let me digitize everything else first, we can burn it. Or hit it several times with a baseball bat. Whichever works, really.”
Nan perks up at that. “What a smashing idea! What do you think, Simon dear?”
Simon’s stare flicks between her and Jamie.
It hits him then that, while he may not have had the life he could have had, he did still find this. This amazing little family who cares for him the way he’d always begged for. He’s still lost so much, and he’ll never get it back, but he has this.
A doting grandmother, uncle, and boyfriend.
A childhood spent going on adventures with Penny.
Baz’s stepmum taking care of Simon and Simon’s grandmother taking care of Baz.
No more care homes, no more loneliness, and no more shortages of love.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling brighter than he has in a while. “Let’s do it.”