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Simon (Now)
Dinner was amazing. Penny had been right about Shep's cooking (big surprise there). We should've had a proper dinner party sooner, instead of the four of us just ordering takeaway and eating in front of the TV all the time.
Penny and Shep had cleared the table and were straightening up in the kitchen. I could hear her laughing about something he said. It made me warm to see her happy. Sometimes it didn't feel real. That we'd all made it. We'd gotten to the other side, and things were peaceful.
I still get a bit nervous, though, if I'm being honest.
Sometimes I can't sleep, just staring at the ceiling and worrying about things going bad again. My therapist calls it ruminating. I call it managing expectations.
Baz puts his hand on mine, "Stop, Love."
I look down. I'm scratching at one of the moles on my wrist again. He hates it when I do that. I turn my palm up and take his hand, giving it a squeeze, "Sorry."
He gives me the smile that is only for me, and squeezes back, "Alright?"
"Alright," I assure him. He shouldn't worry about me as much as he does.
"Good, because that's one of mine -- leave it be."
"What's one of yours?" Shep asks, carrying another bottle of wine out of the kitchen.
“Nothing,” Baz says, squeezing my hand a bit harder in warning.
"What’s nothing?" Penny asks, popping her head out of the kitchen door.
"The moles," I say, and give Baz an apologetic shrug as he mutters 'traitor' under his breath.
She rolls her eyes and mutters "Oh god, the moles," disappearing back into the kitchen. I hear the sound of a cabinet opening and she reemerges with a bottle of whiskey, "If you're going to make me listen to another tale of you two being besotted morons, I need something stronger than bloody cabernet."
"Well, we certainly don't have to tell this story," Baz says, rising gracefully from the table. I pull him back down into his chair and he makes a disgruntled sound like a cat being put in a carrier.
"Come on, you know I love this story. I like the way you tell it, too." I give his knee a squeeze to drive home the point, and I know I have him when he meets my eyes and gives a little sigh.
"Fine," he turns to Shep, "but please keep in mind I was sixteen and deeply hormonal."
Shep nods sympathetically, "Weren't we all."
Baz pours himself a glass of wine and sits back, "It started our fifth year..."
Baz (Fifth Year)
Simon stumbles into our room covered in blood. I don't think it's his, but I can't be entirely sure. My chest feels tight and I fight the urge to rush toward him.
He growls and pushes past me, slamming the bathroom door. That little show of normal Simon behavior is enough reassurance that he isn't about to die of blood loss.
But the undercurrent of fear that I've been living with lately flares to life yet again.
Every time he goes off on one of the Mage's missions I barely sleep. Dev and Niall keep asking me what’s wrong, and I don’t know what to say. I can’t very well tell them I’m in love with my roommate who also happens to be the bloody Chosen One and who keeps nearly getting killed and it’s making me feel all sorts of ways, but the primary feeling is fucking terror. It feels like my heart isn't just walking around outside of my chest, but off somewhere engaging in dangerous covert ops or, I don't know, trying to hack through an army of trolls.
It isn't good.
And it certainly isn't sustainable.
Simon (Now)
Baz really knows how to tell a story, I’ll give him that.
"So, this brave idiot keeps coming back to our room covered in blood, or the digestive fluid of some sea beast, or with broken bones that have been magically mended far too many times..."
I pinch Baz in the side, "That all came with the job, you know -- I wasn't doing it all on my own. Besides, what about the time I came back with half my clothes burnt off by that dragon... bet you didn't mind that too much..." I give him a wink. Penny makes a gagging sound.
Baz rolls his eyes, "I was slightly distracted by the fact that you were quite literally smoking, so I was not able to give as much attention as I might have liked to how much skin you were flashing, darling."
"Yeah, you liked it," I lean against him and he huffs.
Shep coughs to get our attention because he can see where this is going, "The moles, guys...?"
Baz clears his throat, "Right, the moles. So, the first time it happened, I can't say I'd given it much thought..."
"You say 'happened' like it wasn't a conscious decision on your part," I cut in.
Baz turns to me and lowers his voice a bit, even though the others can certainly still hear him. "Well, it hadn’t felt like a choice at the time. It felt like a need... to protect you," he sighs and puts his arm around my shoulders and I lean into him, "...or, at least, a need to not be quite so fucking terrified all the time while you were off doing Mage things."
Baz (Fifth Year)
Simon is asleep in our room when I get back from the Library, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
The Mage had pulled him aside that afternoon and I'd known that another mission must be imminent. I tried not to think about it and spent an unsuccessful evening in the Library, re-reading the same paragraph and cataloging all the ways Simon could be hurt.
Finding him here, asleep and safe in our room, makes that constant hum of fear quiet for a moment.
When Simon sleeps, he sleeps. I never worry about waking him when I move around the room or turn a light on (not that he ever gives me the same consideration, the prat).
He's passed out on top of his covers, one arm thrown across his eyes, the other resting on his chest. I stand at the foot of the bed and I know what I need to do.
For him.
For me.
I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.
I slide my wand out of my sleeve, and point it at the soft skin on the underside of his wrist.
I whisper as low as I can.
"Blessing in disguise."
A tiny mole appears.
It looks like every other one of his moles, but this one is mine. And this one will act as a low-level protection charm. It can't protect him from every danger he might face -- I certainly don't have that much power at my disposal -- but it's an extra layer of armor.
It's something.
Perhaps I can sleep now.
Simon (Now)
"You gave him a protective mole? That's a thing?" Shep sounds both impressed and vaguely nauseated, and suddenly I'm the one feeling protective.
"It was a nice gesture! And not every Fifth Year could have pulled it off!" I say, sounding more defensive than I intend.
Baz gives me a fond look and I realize I might be overreacting just a little.
"Oh, I'm impressed, trust me," Shep says, "I'm just wondering what other magical body modifications there are." He turns to Penny, "Could you give me, like, crazy nose hair to keep demons away?"
Penny sips her whiskey, "It would keep me away too, but sure."
Shep shakes his head, "I learn something new from you three everyday."
"Anyway, that's the mole story. I gave him some moles to protect him. The end."
"Wellllll..." I say, at the same time Shep says "Some moles?"
Baz throws back his wine and puts the empty glass down on the table with a thunk, "Fine! I might have gotten a little... overzealous about it... and things may have gone... not according to plan."
I snort. "You think?"
Baz (Fifth Year)
Lucky for me, Simon has never been especially concerned with his appearance, or even, for that matter, in any way aware of it. His hair goes uncombed more days than not, his uniform is usually badly in need of pressing, and he bites his nails down to the quick. He certainly doesn't notice the burgeoning crop of moles popping up in new places. Above his left eyebrow, just behind his left ear, several spread across the tops of his feet. I map my blessings across his body, and he's none the wiser.
And I can finally sleep.
I still worry about him when he's gone, but I take comfort knowing that a low thrum of my magic is protecting him in whatever backwater village or squalid flat or remote island the Mage has sent him to.
This lasts a good six months right up until he finally catches me.
Simon (Now)
“Oh no,” Shep says putting his hand over his mouth.
“Yep,” I concur, reaching for the wine, “didn’t go great.”
Baz (Fifth Year)
He's asleep in his clothes again, a book resting on his chest. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, and his sleeves are rolled up, revealing plenty of golden skin ripe for a blessing. I watch him for a few moments, making sure his breaths are deep and even. I raise my wand and take a breath.
"Bless--"
"I knew it!" Simon leaps from his bed, grabbing my wand. I yank it away from him and fall backwards, landing on my bed. He stumbles after me, and grabs me by the collar.
"I knew you've been up to something!" he growls. "You've been staying up later than you used to, like you're been waiting for me to fall asleep, and then you watch me every morning. What have you been doing to me in my sleep?!"
He shakes me by the collar, and I grab his hands.
"Get the fuck off me, Snow! I haven't been doing anything to you," I hiss. "You snore like a bloody bridge troll, so I have to cast a silencing charm to get any rest. Are you happy now?"
The snarl falls from his face, but is immediately replaced by suspicion.
"I don't snore."
"You do. It's like sleeping next to a congested walrus."
"Fuck you, Baz. You've been doing something to me, I know it. I... I can feel it... your magic..." he stutters to a stop, and there is the briefest flash of something in his eyes...
Fear.
I close my eyes against it. I put that fear there. I shoved my fear away, but now he's carrying it. It feels like there's a pit in my stomach.
I grit my teeth, "I swear to you that I'm not doing anything harmful."
"But you are doing something," his anger is back. It's better than the fear and I welcome it.
I still don't want to give him the satisfaction of an actual answer though, so I shove him off and stand up, straightening my clothes that have gotten wrinkled in his sweaty fists.
“That’s my business, Snow. Nothing that concerns you.” I do my best to sound like my father – chilly, absolute, and unquestionable. I ignore the way my voice wavers a bit on the word ‘you.’
“I can feel your magic in me, so yes, it bloody well does concern me,” he spits back. Then he gets a look in his eye that makes my stomach drop, “And Penny will figure out exactly what you’re up to.” He grabs his coat and makes for the door.
I’m faster though, and block his path. He pushes me up against the door and I try not to think of that recurring dream I have that starts this way.
Simon (Now)
“You had a recurring dream about me pushing you up against a door?” I ask. “What happened next?”
Penny groans and Shep stifles a laugh.
“Oh… nevermind,” I mutter, feeling my cheeks go red.
“As I was saying,” Baz continues, completely unaffected.
Baz (Fifth Year)
Simon has me pinned to the door. I shouldn’t be enjoying this nearly as much as I am.
“Get out of my way, Baz,” he mutters, low and threatening.
I swallow, “No.”
“Baz, I swear…”
He’s shaking, and I can’t tell if it’s in anger or fear or… something else…
I don’t want this. I don’t want things to be like this. For him to think I’m a villain.
I can stop this. If I can just get past this fear, I can stop this. And if I tell him the truth and he still hates me, or hates me more, then so be it.
I can do this.
“I’ve been blessing you,” I manage to grind out from between clenched teeth.
He scoffs but steps back, “Blessing me. Right.”
“We haven’t learned the spell yet, but we’ll get to it next year when we take Protective Magics with Dr. Houndslow,” I continue as if he hasn’t spoken. “I’ve been reading through the required texts for it ahead of time… out of personal interest.”
Simon looks like I’ve asked him to solve a particularly difficult math equation, “Are you actually serious?”
“Yes, Simon, some people read for personal interest and enjoyment. We don’t all want to run around with swords all day.”
He ignores me, “You were actually blessing me? But… why?”
“Call it an experiment. Empirical research if you will,” I say, realizing I can spin a plausible story without completely looking like a lovesick fool. “You are the most cursed person I know, in constant danger and under a bloody plethora of threats.” I swallow hard as that’s touching a rather sensitive nerve, but force myself to continue as if I haven’t a care in the world. “I want to perfect the ‘Blessing in disguise’ spell, so who better to practice on. Have you noticed an inordinate number of moles on your body?”
Simon’s jaw drops open and he looks down at his arms.
The penny has clearly dropped. I brace myself and wait for him to start raging at me.
But when he looks back up his expression has changed.
“You were really putting protection spells on me?” he says so quietly I can barely hear him.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” he says, “I mean, I didn’t know anyone could do that.” He turns and sinks down on his bed and stares at the floor. When he looks up its all I can do not to rush over and hug him because he looks so lost.
“Why wouldn’t the Mage have done that for me…?” he asks, and my heart breaks.
He’s looking at me as if he’s hoping that I’ll have an explanation for him other than because he’s a megalomaniacal lunatic who is using you for his own purposes.
I clear my throat and soften my tone, “I don’t know, Simon.”
He looks back up at me, “You called me Simon.”
“Did not.”
His lip quirks up on one side. “You’re performing nonconsensual blessings on me, so I think you should call me Simon.”
“That makes no sense at all, Snow,” I say, straightening my clothes and walking back to my bed.
He snorts, “It’s like when people tell you they’re praying for you, and it’s like ‘I’d really rather you didn’t, but thanks I guess… you do you.’”
“It’s nothing like that. It’s research.”
Simon shrugs, his emotional storm seeming to have passed. “Well, thanks I guess. Even if it’s just research, and I’m just your guinea pig because everyone keeps trying to kill me. Still appreciate it.”
I give a jerky nod.
“But maybe, now that I know about the experiment, you could do it while I’m awake? And maybe we could agree where the moles are going to go? Because I don’t completely believe you won’t write ‘I’m a stupid tosser’ in moles across my back.”
The laugh that erupts out of me startles us both.
“Deal, Snow.”
Simon (Now)
“So, yeah,” I take over the story as Baz refills his glass, “once I found out, we would sit together before the Mage sent me out on missions, and he would give me a new mole. We still acted like we hated each other the rest of the time, but I liked having the extra protection, and he’d been pretty convincing about his reasons for doing the spells…”
I take his hand and look over at him, “Once we got together I realized what had really been going on.”
Baz leans forward and gives me a soft kiss and I hear Shepard’s awwww and Penny’s ugh.
“I kind of miss getting those blessings from you,” I tell him softly, “but I guess there’s no need for them anymore.”
Baz looks thoughtful, “I don’t know, love, maybe we start them back up again. You never know what the world will bring.”
I lean into him and he puts his arm around me again, “Yeah, I’d like that. But you can start paying for my annual dermatologist visit – she charges me extra because it takes so bloody long to check all your handiwork.”
Baz kisses the corner of my forehead, where I know he’s put one, “Deal.”