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"Just relax," Raphael said, the gravity of his voice enough to ground Simon for a moment. They were outside Simon's house after he'd run out of excuses for not going home, and his mom’s worries were starting to make Simon feel overwhelmingly guilty. One of the other vampires had told him it would be better, in the long run, to just let his family think he was really dead and never coming back. Simon couldn't bring himself to do that. But he had dropped out of college. And obviously couldn't stay at home anymore. And his explanations weren't convincing his mother anymore.
"If you really want to stay in control, you have to calm down," Raphael continued. He'd agreed to come with Simon only because he wasn't entirely convinced by Simon's abilities to be a convincing human, though he had maintained on the drive over that it was a terrible idea, and that Simon really would be better off cutting all ties now.
Simon had expected him to show up in one of his usual fancy suits that must cost a fortune, but when he'd met Raphael outside the Dumort that evening, he was wearing a v-neck shirt and jeans. He looked... Good. Younger. Simon hadn't really realised that Raphael was probably about the same age as he was when he'd died. Apparently Raphael had a car as well.
That was where they were sitting, parked a few doors down from Simon's house. "What did you do?" Simon asked "When you were turned?"
Raphael kept looking ahead, hand still resting casually on the steering wheel. Simon realised too late that it was probably an insensitive question. To his surprise, Raphael answered him. "I still visit sometimes. Even though my younger brother has grandchildren and makes no attempt to hide how much he resents my youth." It was always strange when Raphael talked like this, sad and honest, letting down his defences and letting Simon see this other side of him, the part he had to hide to keep from collapsing.
Simon pushed away the knowledge that this was his future, everyone else ageing without him whilst he stayed still. "What did you tell them?"
"I didn't have to say anything. They always knew."
"So it's possible then?" Simon said eagerly, with a sudden rush of certainty that he could make this work out, "To keep the life you had before?"
"No. That's the thing, it doesn't- it's not as easy as it sounds. They start to..." Simon had never heard him stumble over his words before. He was always so assured in what he was saying, never suggesting any reason to doubt his views. "It's better not to watch people grow old without you, living their lives, whilst you're stuck."
"But..."
"You're dead, Simon. The sooner you accept that, the better."
"If that's what you think, then why did you come with me?"
"You asked me to," Raphael said simply, "You ready?"
Simon nodded, and they got out of the car. He hadn't really worked out a story yet, everything he thought of sounded either cruel or unconvincing. Raphael came round to stand next to Simon on the sidewalk, hesitating for a moment before placing his hand on Simon's shoulder.
"You'll need these," He said, though Simon wondered whether he’d been planning on saying something else. In his other hand he was holding a pair of glasses with false lenses, that looked enough like Simon's old ones to avoid questions. Simon smiled his thanks and put them on, grateful that Raphael had thought about it, that he seemed to really care that this wasn't a complete disaster for Simon. At least there was one less thing he would have to explain to his mom.
They made their way up the street to Simon's front door. The lights were on in the living room, a soft glow of yellow light in the dark of the evening. He'd gotten used to the half light of the Dumort, of its dark walls and muted colours and mostly impersonal furnishings, and the sight of his family home filled him with an aching sadness for all that he'd lost. It was easy, when he was with Clary, or even Raphael, to forget just how much he had left behind when he’d died, but now he was here, all the pain of those initial days after he’d turned was rushing back to him.
He could feel Raphael watching him as he stepped up to his front door, but he didn’t turn his head to meet his gaze. His feelings about Raphael were confusing too, to say the least. And it had all become even more of a mess after all that business with Camille, and Raphael’s initial hurt and anger which seemed to have faded now, so that Simon wasn’t really sure what he really thought about his betrayal.
So much had happened over the past few weeks that the possibility that Simon might have more-than-friends feelings for Raphael was just one more thing that he wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with. It was all mixed up with adjusting to being undead and only even knowing that vampires were real for a a couple of months, and learning about the politics of the shadow world, and trying to figure out what his relationship was Clary was now that they were both different and changed in ways he could have barely imagined before.
But it wasn’t Clary who he’d wanted to come with him this evening. It was Raphael. Somehow it was Raphael who Simon trusted when he didn’t trust himself. It was strange though, even that he so easily made the comparison, that whilst his feelings for Clary had always felt as natural to him as breathing, a part of him that had grown as he did, an inseparable part of what he considered to be home, when he was with Raphael he was overwhelmingly aware that anything could happen, that he barely even knew him. And still, despite all the reasons why this was so different from the way this was so different from what he felt for Clary, or even Maureen, it was still very much there.
He realised that he’d been stood in front of the door without knocking for slightly too long, and that he hadn’t even been thinking about how nervous he was to see his mum (especially as the last time he’d been here, he’d nearly torn her apart.) No, he had been too wound up in one of the other dilemmas in his life, one which really shouldn’t be giving him as much cause for overthinking as it was.
“You know I have other plans beside waiting around on your doorstep all night?” Raphael said eventually, raising his eyebrows a little amusedly when Simon looked over at him. He looked as though he might be about to say something, perhaps to remind Simon that there were so many problems with what he was doing, and that there would inevitably still be pain this way, and that he could still walk away and not complicate the situation further. He stayed quiet though. Probably because he knew Simon was already aware of all that.
Simon nodded and knocked on the door.
There a burst of conversation inside, exclamations of excitement from his mother that he wouldn’t have been able to hear when he was human. He could hear her footsteps as she came to the door.
Raphael brushed his fingers against Simon’s.
He would have thought it was an accident, but nothing Raphael did was without careful thought and calculation.
“Simon!” Then he was caught up in hugs and questions, comments about how much he had been missed, his sister’s arms around him, which had happened only a handful of times since they were kids. He introduced Raphael (“I mentioned him on the phone, remember mom? He has a flat in Queens, that’s where I’ve been staying.”) and dismissed her concerns, hoping it didn’t sound too much like he was hiding something, and they were finally led into the living room.
“Can I get you boys something to drink?” His mom said, slightly too cheerily, as he sat down on the couch, Raphael following his lead. Simon suspected that she was only maintaining her good mood so as not to scare them off, that once they relaxed the interrogations would begin. He wasn’t entirely sure whether Raphael was prepared to sit through Elaine’s worrying, especially when she’d had so long to prepare what she wanted to say. It had been bad enough on the phone.
It was Raphael that answered her- Simon had forgotten she’d even asked them a question. “We’re fine, thank you Mrs Lewis.”
“Have you had dinner?”
Simon restrained a smile at the thought of what that meant for him now, and the drinks he’d had with Raphael before leaving. “We got some food on the way, mom. I didn’t want to cause you any trouble.”
That was a bad choice of words, Simon realised when his mother’s jaw tensed, and Rebecca looked away, and he was forced to think of all the trouble he had caused them. Still, Elaine brushed it off with a smile, saying she’d pour out a few glasses of lemonade anyway. When she was gone, Simon’s sister fixed him with a somewhat murderous gaze.
“Are you going to give us a real explanation for this, or what?” She hissed.
“Rebecca, it’s-”
“Complicated?” She rolled her eyes, “Mom’s been a mess- you dropped out of college, you’re crashing with some guy you never even mentioned before a few weeks ago, and when you do call you just tell us you’re ‘fine,’ whatever the hell that’s meant to mean.”
“Look,” Simon said, “You wouldn’t believe wha-”
This time it was Raphael that cut him off. “I think it’s difficult for Simon to explain,” he said placatingly. It didn’t really work though, not with Rebecca.
“And I think Simon can speak for himself,” She said.
“That’s not what he meant.” Simon looked between his sister and Raphael- the girl he’d grown up with, who was a part of this house and his childhood and the person he’d become, and the vampire who had saved his life even when it would have been easier not to, who seemed in some way diminished surrounded by the soft light of the living, and who understood like no one else in his life what it meant to have so much of who he was taken from him, and to be unsure what he was left with. Rebecca didn’t know him, not anymore. As he looked at her, he saw that she realised that, that it was dawning on her in some way as Simon sat there with a stranger, in a house that he could no longer call home.
As Elaine came back in, that false smile still plastered on her face, with a tray of lemonade, he realised that he hadn’t fully accepted that fact until now either.
“So,” She said, handing out the drinks, “Raphael. Simon tells me you’re in a band together?”
To his credit, not a trace of shock passed across Raphael’s face. Simon wasn’t sure whether he’d ever seen the emotion on Raphael’s features, to be honest. “That’s right.” He eyed his lemonade, probably wondering whether Elaine would notice if he put it down on the coffee table and ‘forgot’ about it. Or maybe he was just wondering how to make the lie believable. Simon had actually forgotten he’d told his mother that Raphael was in a band. But of course she hadn’t. “We’ve actually got a gig later tonight.” That was smart, Simon thought. It gave them an excuse to leave when things started to go badly.
Elaine looked disappointed, but only for a moment. “That’s great. I did worry when you gave up on accounting that, well, you’d regret it, but at least you’re working. That’s really great, sweetie.”
Simon really wished Raphael hadn’t been there to hear his mom call him ‘sweetie.’
There was silence for a few moments, and Simon knew that the calm facade wouldn’t last much longer. “Mom,” He said, hoping that his next words would sound honest and heartfelt, “I’m really sorry about all this. Really. It’s just…” He sighed. “You know I never wanted to be an accountant. I started going to classes and I hated it, and- I guess I got involved with a bad crowd, you know?” His mother had already guessed that he’d been on drugs, maybe it was easier to let her believe that had sort of been the case for a while. “Things just got really bad really fast, but I’m trying to fix it. I’m happy living with Raphael, it’s not a big place but it’ll do for now, and I like making music, and I’m okay. I promise.” As he reached the end of his explanation, Raphael placed his hand on Simon’s knee for a few moments, a gesture which seemed to be unnecessary in supporting the story, but Raphael often found excuses for casual touches when they were talking, and Simon could never really commit to having a problem with it.
There was enough of the truth in Simon’s story for it not to sound like an outright lie. There’d been a period, between being held hostage by Camille and some time after his sort of reconciliation with Raphael, when everything had just felt like one disaster after another and he’d really started to question how much longer he could go on. His life- or existence, seeing as he was technically dead- was still far from perfect, but there was good in it too. He hadn’t dared to ask Raphael if he could come back to the Dumort, and Raphael hadn’t offered, but Luke had cleared out the spare room for Simon and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Usually if Simon asked, Raphael would meet him for a few hours at a bar, and a couple of times he’d climb through Simon’s window and stay for as long as he could without alerting suspicion. Luke hadn’t said anything, but Simon was pretty sure he knew Raphael had been in his house. The conflict of sleep schedules left little time to see Clary, especially as she was still searching for Jace with the same energy that she’d had in the early days of his disappearance, but they made it work. Overall, it was all starting to fall into place.
Elaine looked like she believed him. She nodded somberly. “Why didn’t you talk to me, Simon?”
“I didn’t know how,” Simon said.
As happy as he had been for Clary after they’d woken Jocelyn up, he’d known even then that she had regained something he would never be able to get back, not really. There would always be distance between him and his mom. As long as they lived in different worlds, as long as he would have to lie to her, they would never be as close as they once were. Some day, once his family began to notice that he was meant to be years older than he looked, he’d have to make a decision, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. Today, at least, things had been patched up a little between them, and he had time to figure out the rest.
Elaine crossed the room and hugged Simon towards her, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. It was a little awkward, seeing as he was sitting down, and there was still some discomfort with being this close to humans, but the reassuring brush of Raphael’s shoulder against his was enough to keep him from letting his fangs show.
They talked a little more, Elaine still didn't seem entirely convinced but she tried to be understanding, and she asked Raphael questions about his family, his education, whether he had another job besides the band (Simon suspected she was trying to get him to admit he was a meth dealer or something) and his answers seemed so reasonable and natural that there was really no reason not to believe him. Rebecca kept giving him knowing looks, but he wasn't really sure what it was she thought she knew.
Later, Simon followed his mom into the kitchen whilst she got started on the day's washing up. He felt kind of bad leaving Raphael alone with Rebecca, but when Elaine asked for his help he didn't really think he could refuse.
“Raphael seems very nice,” She said, after they'd worked in companionable silence for a couple of minutes. ‘Nice’ wasn't a word that Simon particularly associated with Raphael, but he had to admit that he'd been pleasant, very normal, whilst they'd chatted with his family. But she hadn't seen Raphael when he was threatening to kill Simon, tearing demons apart with his bare hands, flashing his teeth with an inhuman snarl. There was a softness to him too though, a side that he showed rarely, and which Simon always felt lucky to get to see.
“Yeah, I suppose.”
Elaine paused and passed him a plate. “He's very handsome, too.”
Simon narrowed his eyes. Of course Raphael was handsome, anyone could see that. He didn't see why his mom thought it was necessary to point it out though- unless she was wanting to set him up with Rebecca, which really wasn't the sort of thing she did.
“I guess,” He said with a shrug and a dismissive smile.
“Honey,” Elaine said, with a gravity that made Simon suddenly nervous, “If all of this was because you're gay, then I want you to know-”
“Mom, it's not-”
“Yes, a lot of our family have very old fashioned views,” She continued, bluntly pushing on despite Simon's interruption, “But I'm a worldly woman, Sharon from work has a wife and she's a good friend of mine. I don't mind, Simon, I just want you to be happy.”
Simon rolled his eyes, “Oh my-” He choked on the word God, but his mom didn't seem to notice. He didn't want to consider how much he'd be blushing if he was still alive.
“I can understand why you might have worried, but you know I- your father too, in many ways- have always seen homosexuality as one of those things that the Jewish faith is far too old fashioned about, and some people- your uncle, for example- just need to realise that the world is changing and-”
“ Mom ,” Simon said, finally managing to get her to stop talking. It was always a struggle, once she got going. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, Simon,” She dried her hands on the towels by the sink, “Anyone can see how much he cares about you. And you only started mentioning him once I was convinced you were living in a crack den- I'm just worried you might be moving too fast.”
“You don't have to worry about that,” Simon said. He pushed his glasses up his nose and took a pointless breath into his hollow, empty, lungs to calm himself, still caught up in the habits of being human. “We're not even really- I mean, I think we both… But it's all sort of complicated and I've made some pretty big mistakes… I think it could be something though, maybe, one day. We're figuring some stuff out, I guess, so we’re just friends, at the moment.” He smiled weakly, wishing he could tell his mother everything like he would have done when he was a kid, instead of these half confessions with all the important facts missing. Still, it felt good to actually talk about this, to admit he did feel something, even if he couldn't say everything.
His mom stroked his cheek and almost gave a genuine smile. “As long as you know you can talk to me, Simon. About whatever's going on.”
Simon nodded and she hugged him again, and they walked back through to the living room. Raphael and Rebecca weren't talking to each other, which was sort of a relief. Simon knew Raphael wasn't exactly one for small talk.
“We should be going…” Simon said, not quite meeting Raphael's eyes. He was fairly sure that he'd have heard the conversation in the kitchen. They said their goodbyes, Simon trying to sound sincere when he promised to come over more often, and then they were out in the night air again. They didn't speak as they walked over to the car, and the journey seemed much shorter than it had when he'd been approaching the house an hour ago.
Even as they drove through the city, Raphael didn't make any attempt to start a conversation. Maybe he was angry. Simon took off the fake glasses and put them in Raphael’s glove compartment.
“Hey, I don't know whether you heard me talking to my mom, about us…” He started to say, cautiously.
Raphael took a few moments to answer. “She thinks we're seeing each other,” He said.
“You're not surprised?”
“I was hoping she'd think that.” Raphael shrugged. “It would explain a few holes in your story.” Simon tried not to be too offended by his pointing out that his lies weren’t entirely flawless, and attempted to brush off the sudden rush of disappointment at Raphael’s suggestion that he had planned it to appear as though they might be a couple, that it wasn’t genuine, that Simon might have imagined the way he’d been looking at him this whole time. “Your answer was very convincing.”
“You were deliberately trying to look like you were in love with me?” Simon asked, thinking of Raphael’s casual but deliberate touches over the evening, the slightly defensive, caring answers he had given to Elaine and Rebecca’s questions. He clenched his fists, keeping his expression neutral. “What if my mom hadn’t been as understanding?”
Raphael glanced over at him, “Then you’d have a reason to not go back.”
“Bastard,” Simon muttered.
Most of the rest of the journey was passed in a silence which was usually comforting when they were together, but it felt tense that night. Simon’s head was spinning. Had he been so messed up by the events of the last couple of months that he’d imagined Raphael’s feelings for him, that he’d confused his friendship and understanding with something more? He hadn’t been a vampire very long, maybe feelings were just more intense without the distraction of being alive- how was he to know?
Even if that was the case, it didn’t change the fact that Simon had definitely pictured kissing Raphael. Several times. Running his hands through his hair, over his chest, pushing Raphael up against a wall to make out with him… Yeah, those were all undoubtedly more-than-friends things. He’d just been convinced that Raphael had felt the same way, that it’d all work out.
Finally, as they approached Luke’s street, he couldn’t take it anymore. “I actually meant it, what I said to my mom,” He blurted out. “I know it’s sort of a mess, and that’s mostly my fault- and, by the way, I know you’re still kinda pissed at me- but I would like us to be something, maybe, like, romantically. ”
Raphael’s brows were furrowed, and he seemed more pained than Simon had expected from his half-assed declaration of his feelings. “ Dios, Simon.”
“Sorry, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable… I mean, you’ve done so much for me, and I thought you might, you know, like me too, but if you don’t, that’s fine. It’s fine. I shouldn’t have said anything…”
“Just, please, stop talking for a moment,” Raphael said softly, his expression defenceless and full of too much emotion for Simon to figure out what he was thinking. “I thought you liked Clary?”
“I did when I was alive,” Simon said, “I don’t know how much of what I feel now is just me trying to stay the same person as when I was human.” Before he’d said it out loud, he hadn’t realised how simple it was, how easily it could be explained. “But you, how I feel about you, that’s me, the way I am right now.”
The car pulled up outside Luke’s place.
“Simon…” The way Raphael said his name always sent shivers down Simon’s spine, even as he’d begun to use it more regularly. Maybe because there was always a reason why he used people’s names when talking to them, to emphasise a point or to remind them of who their family were, but when he used Simon’s name it sounded like he said it just because he liked how it sounded, just because he liked the sense of familiarity. “Do you want to go out for drinks? Tomorrow night?”
Simon couldn’t help but smile. “We go out together all the time, Raphael.” When he said Raphael’s name in conversation, it was always with a sense of triumph and pride that he knew him well enough to do so, and for it to feel natural.
“We should make it official then,” Raphael said, meeting Simon’s gaze, a light smile on his lips.
“Yeah. Okay. Cool,” Simon said, immediately regretting how completely shocked he sounded, so far from Raphael, who had managed to retain some of his easy charm.
“See you tomorrow then,” Raphael said. He took Simon’s hand and pressed it to his lips, eyes closing for a moment, a look of careful concentration on his face. Something in Simon soared at the gesture, there was no heartbeat to thud rapidly, his face didn’t flush like it would have before, but still he felt filled with an energy, with happiness and content and most of all, the fact that he really, really liked this guy. It was so unexpected, yet he wasn’t sure what he had expected from Raphael, really.
“Yeah,” Simon said, grinning stupidly. He got out the car and was about to close the door, and paused. “Thanks for coming along tonight. You didn’t have to.”
“I know,” Raphael said, “You’d have been just fine on your own.”
Simon nodded, realising he was probably right. But he’d wanted Raphael there, had wanted to try and mix his new life with his old one, had wanted Raphael to know him a little better. And, he had to admit, the evening had been far from the disaster he’d been imagining. And at least some of that success was due to Raphael.