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If Simon was being honest, he wasn't the best vampire. He skipped feeding, never paid attention during training, and he still couldn't control his powers. Hell, last week, he couldn't stop his super speed and he ran straight into a wall. One time, he ripped the sink off the wall, trying to turn the faucet on.
Needless to say, Simon was struggling.
However, this didn’t stop Simon from helping Clary whenever she called, but, unfortunately, it stopped him from going alone.
Raphael was worried about him, anyone with eyes could tell. He didn’t think he was ready to go off on his own, which Simon tried not to take personally. Usually, when Raphael would follow him, the mission would go well. They’d get in quickly, then get out, as soon as possible and with minimal injuries.
That day was different.
Clary called Simon in the middle of training. Raphael had him pinned to the ground and Simon was just about to flip them over, or so he thought, when his phone rang. Raphael gave him a long calculating look before getting up and letting Simon answer it.
“Tell the shadowhunter I say hello.” Raphael’s voice dripped with disdain as he headed over to the bottle of blood he placed on a nearby bench.
Simon rolled his eyes and picked up his phone.
“Simon, we found some of Valentine’s scouts, but they’re all dispersed, and we’re not supposed to be looking for Jace. Izzy says we’ll be deruned. You know, I wouldn’t ask you for help unless I absolutely had to.” Clary rambled, fear evident in her voice. She cared about Jace and it didn’t take long for Simon to realize nothing he could do would change that or her purely platonic feelings for him. He grew accustomed to the fact that nothing would change between them, until it did. Clary spent more time asking him for help these days than actually trying to hang out with him.
“Well, hello to you too, Clary.” He had a hard time keeping the bitterness out of his voice, but, judging by Raphael’s impressed look, he did a good job of it.
“Simon, come on.” Simon sighed and nodded.
“Fine. Text me the address and Raphael and I will take care of it.” Simon hung up and got the text almost immediately after.
“Dios, does the Fairchild girl ever tire of inconveniencing us?” Simon jumped. Raphael had snuck up on him again. He did it constantly, and yet, Simon never saw it coming.
“What the hell?” Simon turned and glared. Raphael opened his mouth to say something else, but Simon cut him off.
“Yeah, yeah. Enhanced senses. I know.” He grumbled. “Can we go now?”
Raphael smirked and together they sped to the abandoned warehouse Clary had given them the location of. It was desolate, a bit cold, and Simon began to wonder why he was even doing this for Clary. It seemed almost impossible that Valentine’s scouts were here. The warehouse had boarded up windows and cobwebs everywhere. It was practically the textbook cliche of an evil lair.
“I don’t think anyone’s here.” Simon watched as Raphael searched the place for anything out of the ordinary. Suddenly, Raphael stopped, a peculiar look settling on his face.
“Raph?” Raphael placed a finger to his lips and Simon tried not to panic. It was quiet, too quiet, and Simon could feel uneasiness creep into his stomach, tightening his chest with an ice cold grip.
Simon heard the crack before he felt it. He hit the ground hard, his head colliding with the concrete. He groaned as he instinctively went to cradle his leg, which had snapped with the brunt of the kick he had taken.
“Simon!” Raphael’s face swam into his vision and he could feel hands on his face.
“Shit.” He heard Raphael mutter and he left Simon’s sight.
Simon could hear vague sounds of a fight around him and he slowly made his way to his feet. His leg was already healing, but his head was still pounding. It was then Simon realized that they were completely and utterly surrounded and Raphael was trying to take on six circle members at once.
“Simon, go!” Raphael shouted, as one of the more brute shadowhunters threw him to the ground by the neck.
“I’m not leaving you!” Simon didn’t have any weapons on him, so he did the best thing he could do. He grabbed the shadowhunter by the throat and bit as hard as he could.
Blood rushed into his mouth and Simon tried not to relish in how good it felt to finally feed. His mind was screaming at him to keep drinking. Angel blood was nothing like Simon had ever tasted before. It was rich and the sheer taste of it would’ve consumed him if he hadn’t heard the circle member that was sneaking up behind him.
Simon backed away from the fallen shadowhunter and guarded Raphael.
“If you want to get to him, you’ll have to go through me first.” Simon spat, raising his hands as if he could do any real damage with them.
Looking around, he saw five circle members left, and all of them were heavily armed with seraph blades and other weapons. Simon gulped and considered his options. He could make a break for it, but there was no way he could carry Raphael past the five of them. He could surrender, but then he’d end up dead. Again.
So, Simon did the next best thing. He raised his right hand and stared the circle members down.
“We are not the vampires you are looking for.” Raphael groaned, and Simon was almost one hundred percent sure it wasn’t because of his injuries. He didn’t blame him though. Simon regretted saying it as soon as it came out of his mouth.
That was until the circle members’ faces went slack. Their weapons clattered to the ground and, almost in unison, they all said, “You are not the vampires we are looking for.”
Simon nearly cried.
“Holy shit, I have the force.” Simon’s jaw dropped as he studied the blank expressions of each of the shadowhunters.
“Simon, we have to go.” Raphael stood up, and Simon tore his gaze from the circle members. Raphael was bleeding from his stomach and his head, and he was swaying just a bit. Simon picked him up and started carrying him out of the warehouse, stepping over the, hopefully unconscious, shadowhunter’s body.
“I can walk, you know.” Raphael looked annoyed to say the very least, but Simon ignored him. They’d get back to the Dumort much faster this way.
“So, do all vampires have the force or am I just special? Like, am I the Chosen One? Is there some sort of vampire prophecy I don’t know about?”
“There’s no such thing as the force, Lewis.” Raphael’s head lolled onto Simon’s arm and he groaned faintly.
“Lewis? Is that any way to talk to the Chosen One?”
“Honestly, just drop me off here. Let me bleed out. It’ll hurt less.”
“Someone’s dramatic today.”
“And someone’s sleeping on the couch tonight.”