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Simon
I’m making a list. It’s called, things I’m trying not to think about right now. As far as lists go, it’s not the best, since by making it, I’m thinking about every it. But it worked for Watford and it’s going to work now.
1. I’m freezing. I can’t really stop myself from thinking about this one. It’s almost midnight, and I’m in Baz’s old house, the one I completely fucked up by draining the magic from. Nobody lives here any more, at least nobody human. Baz once mentioned that there are wraiths, but I don’t know if they disappeared when the magic did. I don’t know how fast magic will creep back. I don’t really want to find out. My breath comes out in clouds in front of me, and all my joints are stiff.
2. I’m lost. I’m trying really hard not to think about it, but it keeps bubbling up. I thought it was a good idea to come here, I thought that it might be the best place to start looking for him. But once I got here, it was only dark and damp, and all the hallways look the same. Dark paneling, red trim, the whole gothic gargoyle we’re-an-ancient-family vibe. The corridors are mazelike, and it’s almost night, so it’s pretty dark and difficult to tell where I am. I could be walking in circles for all I know.
3. I’m alone. This one isn’t actually true, since I know Baz is here somewhere. I didn’t know if he’d be here, but I can sense that he’s somewhere here. I have no idea where though, and my chances of finding him if he doesn’t want to be found are pretty slim. He lived here for all of his childhood that wasn’t at Watford. I’ve been here exactly once. But I know he’s here. I keep hearing little noises, things that I desperately hope are being caused by a human being. (Well, vampire if we’re being technical. But I almost never am.)
4. I can barely see. If Baz was right here, I probably wouldn’t notice, provided he stood in a dark corner. It didn’t occur to me that I should bring a flashlight to come to a deserted house at night. It probably should have, but I’ve never been very good at planning. Last time I was here, it was full of light, and I guess I forgot that it wouldn’t be like that now. It makes the chances of me finding Baz when he doesn’t want to be found even more unlikely. But I hope he does want to be found.
My list might get longer, but I have no idea how this is going to turn out. My footsteps echo on the polished stone floor as I walk down the long hall. All the carpets are gone. I guess they’ve probably been moved to storage or something.
I reach the foot of the stairs at the end. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, like someone is watching me. Someone probably is, but I don’t turn around. I want to be ready before I meet him. I climb the stairs tiredly, and when I reach the top, I feel relief wash over me. I recognize this hallway. (Another hallway. Really, who built this place? They must have been off their rocker, because no logical person would ever design a house this way.)
I walk faster now, then break into a stumbling run as I suddenly, desperately, don’t want to look behind me. I come to a door I recognize, skid to a halt and try the doorknob. It’s unlocked, and I tumble in, slamming the door behind me. I know it’s totally ridiculous to be panicking over absolutely nothing, but the atmosphere of this place is getting to me. Also, I’m done with the weird cat-and-mouse feeling I’ve been getting. He can come to me.
Now that I feel slightly safer, I look around. The room is exactly like I remember, but minus the nice amenities like blankets and pillows on the bed. It’s a shame, because #1 is getting really hard to ignore. I can’t really feel my fingers, and my toes have been numb for a while now. I’ve never appreciated my toes fully until now, when I kick a table leg on accident. I know my foot touched the table, but I definitely can’t feel it.
The couch is covered by one of those white sheet things, which is great for me. I hate being cold, and right now there is no part of me that isn’t.
One time Baz told me, “You’re like some kind of lizard, Simon. You can’t do anything unless you’re hot as the blazes.” That was after he came to Penny and my apartment and it was about 30 degrees. I love heat, and I didn’t even realize how hot I was all the time until I didn’t have any of my magic to keep me warm any more. Now I usually wear a couple jumpers on top of each other all winter. Baz teases me about it a constantly, but I don’t care, because I’m warm and happy.
But now I’m just cold, so cold. It’s evening and I’m too tired to fight to stay alert any more. Once I got the tip-off, I came straight here, and didn’t bring any coats or anything. I pull the sheet off the couch and wrap myself up in it. Then I face the empty room and say loudly, “Baz, I know you’re there, okay? I’ll be here when you decide to stop hiding. I’m not going to leave unless you’re leaving with me.” The room is stifling in its quietness. I might as well rest while I’m waiting, because I’m exhausted. I lie down on the couch and burrow as far as I can into the back of it.
My eyelids start uncontrollably drooping, and I can’t keep them open long enough to see much of anything. If I close them, I’ll still be able to hear if he comes in.
“Simon!”
I struggle back to consciousness. For a second, I try to make sense of where I am. Oh right. Went looking for Baz. Got lost. Fell asleep in the haunted house.
“Fuck. Of all the fucking idiots in the world you’re the worst, do you know that?” The voice keeps talking. It’s a nice voice. It’s kind of familiar, and I just want it to keep talking. I realize my eyes are shut, so I try to open them. A blurry figure is standing on the wall. I blink some more, and realize that the figure is actually Baz, and he’s standing on the floor, not a wall. Baz. I try to sit up so fast that I forget that I’ve burritoed myself into a sheet, and instead end up wriggling on the couch like a grub. Untangling myself, I push myself into a sitting position. “Baz! You’re- what are you-“ I can’t get the words out. Use your words, Simon. I growl. “Why are you here, Baz?”
He looks affronted. “Well I didn’t really want my boyfriend to freeze to death, so I thought I’d maybe help you.” He says, cool and unruffled. I want to slap him across the face. I also want to kiss him senseless, but I decide against both of these things (for now).
“M-mmaybe y-y-you c-could’ve sh-shown up sooner?” I question, teeth chattering. The instant I sat up, all my body heat disappeared. I’m thinking squeezing back into the couch is the best plan. I slide back over until I’m lying down again. Before I once again become one with the couch, Baz shakes my shoulder.
“Hey, hey, come on Simon.” He lets go and pulls his wand out of his pocket. “Wake up sleepyhead!” he exclaims, pointing it at my head. (I guess there’s some magic here already.) I feel more awake the instant he says it, but I’m still kind of lethargic, and I’m still shivering and I’m still exhausted. He has an alarmed expression on his face, and maybe the spell drained him a little, because he stumbles back a little, wincing. He casts another spell, pointing to the sheet wrapped around me. “Snug as a bug in a rug!” I feel a wash of warmth over me, and sigh, trying to stop shivering. Baz stows his wand, tells me to stay put, (like I’m going anywhere, I’m warm now.) and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
Baz
Maybe this has all been some kind of dream. I haven’t seen Simon in weeks, and this whole adventure has a tinge of surrealism about it. Maybe this is a dream where we meet, and I didn’t leave him. My dreams are too too vivid, and I can’t tell them from reality most of the time. It’s only when I wake up that I realize that my life could never be that good. But I need this to be real. I need Simon to be real, and okay, and alive, and in my house and on my couch.
I jog down the hallway and open a hidden doorway that will lead me straight to the firewood shed, feeling my muscles burn. There’s a little bit of magic here now, enough to use spells a little, but it takes so much energy that I’m exhausted from just two.
Sometimes it pays to have grown up in an ancient mansion; I know all the back ways. I need to hurry, because Simon is really not looking good. I didn’t think that telling my (hopefully still) boyfriend that he looks like a reanimated corpse would really help my pathetically lousy case, but he looks like death warmed over. I can’t fathom what he could possibly have been thinking to somehow get here by himself in that state. They shouldn’t have let him out of the hospital.
When Simon first got sick, I was right there. I took care of him, made hot soup and tea, and generally made a nuisance of myself. I was completely aware of this fact, but chose to ignore it. He kept telling me to go back to classes, but I wouldn’t. Something could happen while I was away, and I wouldn’t be there. I told him that he was more important than classes. “Baz, I’ll be fine. You can’t skip class just because I’ve got a fever.” I finally relented, but only because I had to. I’ll never admit it, but my grades were taking a hit, and I’m not about to lose to Penelope. Simon told me, “Penny’s here, I’m fine! You really don’t need to be here all the time, Baz.” And I listened. (Sometimes it’s better to avoid arguing with Simon Snow. Stubborn is a severe understatement.)
But the fever, it wasn’t just a fever, as nonchalantly as Simon put it. It was pixie pox, which, while involving a fever, also includes extreme weakness and dangerously slow reflexes.
But it was true that Simon was on the upswing, and recovering pretty well, and even I knew that he didn’t really need Penny and me to be there all the time. Simon had regained a lot of strength, enough so that he was able to walk around a little. Dr. Wellbelove suggested that he start taking short walks outdoors. He thought the fresh air would be a nice break from the apartment.
Dr. Wellbelove is still Simon’s doctor of choice, even though he can’t do magic any more. Those fucking dragon wings wouldn’t even work unless he had some intrinsic magic. Penelope and I had to figure out a spell to fix them, because Simon really couldn’t go out in public. Personally I wouldn’t care, but he’s much more concerned with freaking out the Normals than necessary.
We worked out this clever little spell that’s stuck to his wings. It mostly has to do with intention, which is why he can actually do it. We got them to become non-corporeal when Simon wants them to be with a variation on “Simon Says” which I have to say is one of the more ingenious pieces of magic I’ve done. He can make them physical whenever he wants, which is great for him and annoying for everyone else. Even though he’s not strictly speaking a mage, Simon is apparently still a magical creature. (I won’t even start on how infuriated I was when I heard Wellbelove put Simon in the same category as a fucking numpty.) So Simon is susceptible to Normal and magical maladies, but he can’t do anything about half of them.
I came back from classes one day, and Simon wasn’t home, so I waited around for a while, did some homework. But he hadn’t come back a couple hours later when Penelope walked in the door.
That was the start of a living hell of phone calls and spells and panic.
Penelope and I looked everywhere. All we knew is that he’d been there when we’d left that morning. I tried to focus on finding him, but instead I fell apart. I couldn’t even think; it was like there was a low level buzzing in my brain 24/7, constantly running tests.
Could he be in the park? No, we checked there. Could he be lost? Simon isn’t stupid, he has a phone. What happened to his cell phone? I don’t know. Where is he? I don’t know. Is he even alive? I don’t know. And that was why I didn’t sleep or eat for the next four days. I had blood, I had to, but other than that…Penelope eventually just hoisted me into Simon’s bed and left me there while she looked for him. I didn’t do anything, not even a fucking finding spell. I was useless, lying in Simon’s bed, smelling his pillow, and crying so hard I couldn’t stop shaking.
I’ve always thought that I could control myself in any situation; that I’m like a leaf blowing above all the fucked up things in the world. When Simon disappeared, my leaf got caught, and stepped on, and ground into the dirt until it was indistinguishable from mud.
On the fifth day, Penelope came back to the apartment with a wild look on her face. “I found him.”
I shot up from the bed. “Tell me.”
“In Clearwater Park. I was checking it out again, even though I’ve checked it at least three times already, and I was in the woods at this spot that I know normally has a bench. So I did “Peekaboo!” and the bench kind of…shimmered into view, and I think Simon was on it! I only think it’s Simon because he’s wearing his Watford jumper. I thought he was dead, but he moved a little so I think he’s okay. We have to go get him Baz. There’s no time to lose!” She gathered up coats and blankets and a bunch of magical items, and shoved them into a bag. “Come on Baz. Simon needs you.”
And that’s when I failed him.
Simon
How did I even get in this mess? I guess it was a walk in the park. I mean that literally, because I went for a walk one Friday afternoon.
It was sunny, I was enjoying myself and the use of my legs, (which were just now strong enough to actually carry me) and I extended the walk a little bit. I went to Clearwater Park, which is a couple blocks away from our complex.
That was the first of the non-mistakes I made. They’re non-mistakes because if I were anyone but me, it would have been a totally logical thing to do. The problem is, I think that the magickal world has a personal vendetta against me or something. It’s like everything knows I don’t really belong, like there’s a giant neon sign above my head that says, “Simon Snow, Creator of Dead Spots! Please Attack Me on Principle!”
This time was bad though. This time I almost died. I try to think warm thoughts, but it’s hard when you’re freezing and still recovering from dehydration and the pixie pox (still) and who knows what else. I squish myself as far as I can into the couch.
That day I was walking on the paths of Clearwater Park when I started hearing rustling behind me. I didn’t think about it too much, because there are plenty of squirrels and birds in a park like that one, with lots of trees and things. But the rustling kept up for my whole walk through the trees, and a little voice in my head was screaming to get away from the trees. So I was walking pretty fast when I reached the edge of the trees and made to step into the sun.
You know the feeling you get when you’re about to resolve a bad feeling you’ve been having? Relief that it’s over fills you, right before it’s actually over. That’s what I was feeling when I made to leave the forest.
But instead of walking out like I expected, I was suddenly in the middle of the forest again. That’s when I knew I was in trouble. I didn’t really know what to do other than walk back out, so I started walking in the direction that the trees were lightest. I was more tired this time, but I finally got to the edge of the woods, and cautiously tried stepping out from under the trees.
Boom, back to the middle of the forest, and it definitely wasn’t Clearwater Park any more, because the park is only three blocks square, and this was a real forest. My hand went for my sword, before remembering that I can’t summon it. I probably wouldn’t have been able to fight anyway; I was exhausted. So I just sat and waited for whatever it was that hated me to show up.
I sat for hours before anything happened.
The whole situation was bizarre, because the woods were a strange cross between some old forest, and Clearwater Park. There were huge oak trees right next to a park bench. You know those overhead projectors they used in school when we were kids? It was just like seeing two pages on top of each other.
I was staring at a tree across from me, trying not to think about the temperature drop as it got darker, when I saw something in my periphery vision. When I looked, a huge black cat was stalking out of the trees, and I’m not talking about a domestic cat. This thing looked like it could rip me apart in a second. I froze.
“Simon Snow.” The cat’s voice echoed inside my head, rumbly and dark, like coffee and hot coals. “When you wandered into my forest, did you know that it would be the last time you’d see the outside world? Did you say goodbye to your friends? It’s too late now, now that you’ve reached the center of the Wavering Wood. I’m afraid it’s much too late.” The cat was slinking around me and my park bench. Trying to keep my eyes on it was difficult, but I wasn’t about to turn my back on a giant killer cat.
Fuck the Wavering Wood.
“Have we—have I offended you?” I started off. A lot of my encounters with (other) magickal creatures are the result of them thinking I have a personal vendetta against them. Only a few of the mages know that I was the cause of the dead spots, but for some reason the entire fucking creature world knows.
“My people are dying, Simon Snow. Once we were strong, and universally feared. Now we are barely even a threat. Where is superstition when we need it?” the huge cat growled.
“Who are—“
It interrupted me, “We are the fear of death. We are the embodiment of the terror of seeing your end drawing near. And Simon Snow, your end is very near.”
I start hotly, “How could you possibly kn—“
“We see all,” the cat growled, “the past, the present and the future…and we can end you right now, Magic Killer.”
I thought, And obviously I was targeting you when I accidentally almost destroyed the magical world! But I managed to stay quiet.
It was now totally dark, and with a start, I realized that the cat’s eyes were glowing.
“Comrades, join me! Let us put the fear of death in this mage’s heart.” Sets of glowing eyes unveiled themselves around me. I was surrounded. As they started moving around me, I saw glimpses of their bodies, illuminated by their glowing eyes. Large felines and giant dogs and wolves. The woods were filled with growling and the thump of big feet on the leaves. I was so terrified I could barely think, and the one thought I had was playing on a loop. Monster Pet Coalition. Monster Pet Coalition. Also, I’m dead. I’m so dead. Which wasn’t helping at all.
So I did the only thing I could—I closed my eyes and tried to shut my brain off. I kept them squeezed shut until the morning light shone on my eyelids. When I opened them, the black Hellbeasts were gone. The ground was covered in giant paw prints.
That was the start of the longest weekend of my life. It didn’t matter how far I walked, as soon as I turned around, the park bench was right behind me. I found a fountain from Clearwater Park a few times, which was good because I would have died of thirst by the time anyone found me. I finally ended up lying on that bench, hoping that it would be over soon. Penny said that she only recognized me because of my sweater.
“I can’t believe you kept looking so long.” That was while I was in the hospital.
Penny looked at me like I was an idiot. (It’s how she usually looks at me.) “You disappeared. Of course we’d keep looking for you, we hadn’t found you yet!”
I was delirious when she did, and don’t really remember it. I just remember waking up in the hospital with Penny reading some ancient tome in the chair next to my bed
And that’s how I ended up in a Normal hospital for two weeks, hooked up to a bunch of IVs to make sure I had enough nutrients and fluids. Penny was there a lot, but I never even saw Baz.
Baz reenters the room with yet more wood and lets it tumble to the floor. It’s really gotten dark now, but I can see his silhouette as he squats down in front of the fireplace and starts building a fire. I don’t interrupt him. I don’t really know what to say. He called me his boyfriend, so we must not be totally doomed, but beyond that I have no idea where we are. I have to laugh a little bit. Today is Valentines Day, and here I am, freezing my ass off and hoping that he’ll snap out of his idiotic funk. My mind keeps wandering as I watch him.
He’s like a magnet, drawing my eyes straight to him. But he’s acting cold and aloof, so I’ll match him. Because we fucking match.
Baz is still building the fire, but I don’t think he’s ever done it before from nothing, because he seems to be struggling to light it. He throws the wood he was holding onto the floor and curses.
It’s night now, and I can barely see him. He’s probably perfectly fine with his vampire vision though. He stands up and presses his head to the brick chimney.
He looks like he’s hurting, but I can’t gather the energy to get up. “Baz…” I croak, then trail off. I don’t know what to say. I can feel this barrier between us, a novel full of unspoken words.
“Simon, why are you such an idiot?” I hear him mumble.
“I’m not the one who didn’t visit me when I was in the hospital.” I mutter.
His profile suddenly turns, and his arm reaches for his pocket. “You’re going to freeze to—wait what? I didn’t visit—you think that I didn’t visit you because I didn’t want to? Crowley, Snow. You have no idea what it’s been like for me. No fucking idea.” He’s gone from despondent to angry in two seconds flat. He pulls out his wand, points it in the air and shouts, “Let there be light!”
The room is suddenly blindingly bright, and pain shoots through my skull. That’s a powerful spell, in a low magic zone. When I squint open my eyes, all I see is Baz. He’s standing in front of me, his wand arm pointing at the ceiling. Blindingly white points of light float all around us in this dark, dark bedroom, illuminating him. And I can’t help my sharp intake of breath. He’s gaunt, as pale as I’ve ever seen him, with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, and looks almost ready to pass out. He’s wearing what were once a well-fitted button up and jeans but they’re in tatters. His shirt is wrinkled and dirty, his pants are frayed and muddy on the bottoms, and he’s not wearing shoes.
My heart aches. I wonder what he’s been doing for the past weeks, but now’s not the time. We have to talk about this before anything else. “Then tell me. Baz, please tell me why you never visited? Give me a reason and it’d better be good.” What I want to say is, because when I was lying in that bed I felt like I was dying, even though the doctors said I was better. Because I felt like I was missing a limb, and I didn’t even know what happened to it, so please, please tell me. Because I’m barely holding on and I need to know why you can’t explain this. But I don’t say any of that. Baz looks so fragile, like a window with cracks in it.
He sputters. I’ve never seen him so inarticulate. He’s always the one that knows what to say. But it’s like I’ve knocked over the rock that starts an avalanche.
“It was my fault though. You don’t understand—” he trails off.
“Then tell me.” I command. I’m not usually this aggressive, but Baz always brings out my extremes. And I’m frustrated.
“I did everything right. You were getting better, and you were right, I shouldn’t have put everything on hold for you. I went back to class, which was the sensible thing to do,” he seems like he’s trying to convince himself, “and I figured you’d be okay, because really, what could happen?” It’s almost like I’m not here at all and he’s just talking to himself. “I should have realized you’d be a target, I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“And something happened and you felt responsible? Christ, Baz! How could you have possibly known what would happen?”
Baz is squeezing his eyes shut, and standing so stiffly, like he’s turned to stone. “That’s not why—I know that.“ His mouth barely moves as he forces out the words, “I didn’t save you.”
“Well I’m okay now, I survived, Penny found me. Why does it matter that it wasn’t you?” I’m sharp, accusatory. Baz is literally not making sense and so far he hasn’t given me a single good reason for his actions. “You weren’t the one to save me, I don’t care! What I care about is that you left me. When I needed you, when I really needed someone to hold my hand and—and kiss and make better, you weren’t there.”
Baz is squeezing his eyes shut, and every time I say something, he looks like he’s been punched in the gut. I continue. He needs to hear me.
“Do you know what kept me going when I was stuck in the Wavering Woods? What made me get up and go find water just to stay alive? It was you, Baz.” I’m almost yelling, and he looks ready to be sick.
“Do you know what kept me going in the Wavering Woods? I made a promise to you, that I’d see you again, and I keep my promises, even if I guess I can’t say the same for you. And then I woke up in the hospital and for a little bit, everything was okay, because I knew you’d come and sit my bed and feed me awful hospital food and you just hadn’t come yet. But you didn’t come, and you didn’t come, and I finally realized that you weren’t coming back. I really knew, when Penny went to your apartment and you’d left. And even though you were gone, I knew that as soon as I could, I was coming to find you. Because I love you. And you have no excuse, Baz. You have no excu—“ I have a coughing fit, courtesy of the Wavering Woods.
When I recover and look up, Baz is standing like a statue, staring at a light orb behind the couch. His whole body is shaking, and as I watch, tears drip off his chin onto the floor.
I immediately hate that I pushed so far. He doesn’t deserve this. Knowing Baz, he’s already punished himself in his head a thousand times more than I ever could.
He closes his eyes for just a second, and whispers, “But I didn’t save you.” He continues, quietly, like every word is causing him physical pain. “When you disappeared, Simon, I couldn’t cope. I thought you were gone forever. Penny didn’t find you because I was looking somewhere else. Penny found you because I stopped looking. I didn’t even help her when she found you. I could’ve, and I didn’t. Now do you understand why I left?”
I think I do understand, and even though I know that what Baz did is messed up in ten different ways, all I can think of is how ridiculous he’s being. In Baz’s world, he failed me, and that means that he should deserve to be left alone. But I won’t let that happen.
“That’s not how it works though. Don’t you think that maybe I get a say in this too?” I let the words hang in the air for a moment. “Baz, did you ever think that maybe I wouldn’t want you to leave?”
The globes of light are dimming, filling the room with a golden glow, and Baz looks like a work of art. A beautiful, imperfect boy, filled with so much self-loathing sometimes I wonder how I ever got through to him. He finally speaks. “I guess…I think I should have visited you.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah,” I say, “you should have. But we’re past that now. Baz,” I say softly, “We all make mistakes. Merlin, I’m basically the poster boy for making huge mistakes. But we all deserve second chances, and I know that I’m giving you one. Maybe I should still be angry and I was when you first showed up, but I can’t. I can’t. I’m in love with you, and it’s way too late to turn back.” I realize that I must have stood up at some point, because I can look him right in the eyes, and maybe it’s just me but the room seems just a little warmer.
Baz is looking so alone, step close to him and slide my hands down his arms until they’re in his hands. We just stand there, tears still dripping from Baz’s chin.
“Listen,” I whisper, tilting my head up to look into his face, “I’m still here. I’m here.”
He seems to break whatever trance he’s been in, and his eyes slide down to mine.
I squeeze his hands, as hard as I can. Baz had cracks long before I got here, and I don’t know how to make the pieces fit back together perfectly. But I can fill the cracks. I slowly, creakily, stretch up and brush a kiss across his cool lips, then crack a crooked smile. My face feels stretched, like I haven’t smiled in a long time. I haven’t.
“I’m here Baz. I’ll never leave,” I whisper on his lips. “I like you right here, with me. Don’t think for a second that you’re going anywhere.”
Finally, after what feels like minutes, Baz moves. He drops my hands and draws me close to him. All the tension I’ve been carrying since the hospital melts away.
This is where I belong; with Baz, holding him and never letting him go. His hands slide up my back, until he’s squashing me against him. I reach up and place my hands behind his jaw, and pull his face down to mine.
When we kiss, I don’t feel cold at all.