Hello readers! I'm very new to writing fanfiction, and publishing this oneshot is going to be my second time publicly and stuff! This is a oneshot of the ship Sizzy, one that I think is rather underrated! What do you think?
Disclaimer : I obviously do not own TMI or TID OR TDA. All rights go to Cassandra Clare as she is the rightful owner of the whole Shadow world!
Simon Lovelace sat on the steps of the New York Institute, wearing nothing more than a white t-shirt that had a small black cat printed on the front, and a pair of skinny jeans that Clary had gotten him for his most recent birthday. He glanced down and sighed, picking at his jeans on impulse and feeling very conscious of himself, the way he looked and felt. He wasn't quite used to seeing his reflection, wasn't used to seeing someone who was well built and whose whole body was covered with strange symbols staring back.
To him, he looked like a completely different person, one who would perhaps be the rebel, which he, last time he checked, was not. He could feel emotions roaring inside him, fighting for control. He could feel the pain of not truly knowing who he was anymore. He was no longer the carefree mundane Simon Lewis, he was no longer the daylighter that everyone wanted to kill. He was just a shell, something that looked but wasn't.
As he sat there on the chilled steps, feeling the coldness seep into his skin, he couldn't help but think back to his days at the Shadowhunter Academy. He thought of the lessons he'd been taught as well as the secrets he'd learned. He thought of all the different people he had met and become friends with, which led to him thinking of George. George. The only one who'd liked Simon for himself and not the stories he couldn't remember. The only one who really liked Simon for himself from the beginning.
He could feel his chest clench tight at the thought of his friend, at the fate he was given in the very end. He still couldn't quite believe that George, someone who was truly kind and caring, who knew just the right things to say to cheer someone up, someone who deserved the title as Shadowhunter, was simply gone.
His death had definitely taken a toll on Simon's mentality, had changed his views of the world, and how he felt at being apart of the Shadow World. He knew he was depressed, he knew he needed to get a grip on his emotions, but he just couldn't, no matter how hard he tried.
As he sat there on the ground, deep in thoughts of the past, wind ruffling his hair and leaves swirled lazily around. His brown eyes stared blankly out into the distance, his mind working a million miles per second. Some thoughts flitted away as quickly as they had come, while others lasted for what felt like ages. Happier memories and thoughts flashed through his mind, the ones that had returned the moment he Ascended into being a Shadowhunter.
He could remember clearly the fear he'd held in him when Clary and Jocelyn had gone missing, wondering if they were dead or had been kidnapped. He remembered the anger and betrayal as Clary had begun drifting away from him, as well as the friendship and world the two had built and lived for so long. He remembered waves of dislike when he first met Jace Herondale, knew that from the way Clary and he glanced at one another, there was more than just friendship in their relationship.
He could also recall the feeling of hunger, a hunger that felt like it was shredding his insides, driving him to do reckless things., as well as the feeling of being crushed when his mother had called him a monster. As these many thoughts and memories raced through his brain, a shadow fell over where he sat. It took him a few moments to take in who was in front of him, all starting with his name being called.
"Simon, what are you doing sitting outside? Simon?"
His ears perked up at the voice, for he knew who it belonged to. Clary. His...his best friend in the universe. He lifted his eye up in the direction where her voice had come from, meeting her intense green eyes with his own brown ones. Clary, his best friend, his soon to be parabatai, his lifelong sister.
"You know...just sitting. Enjoying nature as it changes"
He tried his best to sound nonchalant, leaning back on the stairway until the next few steps were up against his back, making him realize just how cold he was. Clary, her eyes glinting with judgment, raised her eyebrows, not believing a word he said.
"Well, it's time you stopped enjoying nature and got inside. You'll catch a cold if you stay out here too long. It's the middle of winter."
Simon could feel his lips unconsciously turn up at the last sentence, making him almost laugh. Almost that is.
"Right. I probably should, huh."
He stood up from the cold ground and began to brush his jeans off, seeing that dust had gathered on him as if he was a dust bunny. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting outside in the cold, but from the position of the sun, he'd been out for quite a while, perhaps the whole afternoon.
"So...Where's Jace?"
They moved into the entrance of the Institute, where a blast of warmth hit Simon, making him realize he'd been freezing outside. Clary, whose bright red hair had been tied back in a tight ponytail so that her runes were visible, shrugged, tossing her Seraph blade in the umbrella basket by the entrance.
"I think he's in the library, you know, looking up things on the parabatai ceremony for you. Now come on, I'm starving."
Simon nodded and the walked past the stairway leading up to the training rooms, in the direction of the kitchen. As they walked, Clary's stomach gave a very loud growl, making her clutch at her stomach and laugh. As the two friends approached the kitchen's entryway, an odd smell came and sailed into their noses, one that smelled like pasta but with something like curry and pepper.
"I'm guessing...Izzy's cooking tonight."
"Your guess is as good as mine, amigo."
Izzy. The thought made butterflies squirm in Simon's stomach. He hadn't seen Isabelle Lightwood since his visit to George's grave outside the London Institute, which had been almost two months ago. After that, he'd stayed in Alicante, took up the Lovelace name, announced he and Clary would be parabatai, and train. In those two months, he'd heard nothing from Isabelle, wondering where he stood with her now. Was he an acquaintance? A friend? A nobody? He didn't know and was scared to find out. Clary, who seemed to sense how anxious Simon was, leaned into his shoulder in a reassuring way, smiling.
"You don't need to be nervous. Just be yourself."
Right. Himself. Easier said than done. Simon nodded and smiled back, his face muscles feeling tight in the effort. It was easy to be oneself when you knew who you were, not when you didn't.
They entered the kitchen to see Isabelle leaning over a pot of what looked like spaghetti, her black hair tied in a tight knot on the top of her head. She had her back turned towards the door, which made Simon feel a bit more relaxed. She hadn't seemed to notice they walked in. As she cooked, she hummed a song to herself, moving her lean body as if she were dancing.
Sitting in a high chair by the large circular table was a baby boy, one whose skin was a vivid blue. The boy seemed intent on listening to her voice, swaying where he sat, his eyes going in and out of focus. Clary giggled softly at the babies trance, walking up to him and sitting down, beaming as the boy turned his sleepy eyes on her.
Simon hadn't seen the baby warlock since Magnus and Alec had taken him home, and couldn't quite believe his eyes as he stared. Only two months had passed, but the boy looked as if he'd grown by a few years. His dark hair had grown out some and his eyes seemed to have grown in maturity. His small horns also seemed to have developed some, looking slightly curved now at the ends.
As Clary waved at him, making faces as she did so, he let out a small gurgling laugh, one that got Isabelle's attention right away. As she turned, the first thing that caught Simon's attention were her eyes, as they seemed too dark than her usual warm ones. She smiled at Clary and didn't even look in Simon's direction, talking as if he wasn't present.
"If you're looking for Jace, he's in his room looking in on some extra missions."
Clary nodded and stood, slipping her nimble fingers out of the warlocks. The boy made a noise of protest, to which Clary motioned Simon over. He walked over cautiously, for he'd never really been able to handle himself around babies. As he approached, the boys intense blue eyes followed, looking as if he could read Simon's mind. Clary smiled pulled him closer, laughing a bit as she did so.
"Simon, you don't need to be afraid of Max. He's harmless."
Just as those words left her mouth, however, the boy sneezed, blue flames and lightning crackling around him. The popping was loud to sound like a bunch of Bang Snaps going off at once, making the hairs on Simon's arms stand up on edge.
"Right. Harmless."
As he stood there, shocked at the energy around the boy, he heard a light snicker from behind. It was Isabelle. She seemed to finally see Simon as she looked him dead in the eyes, a look of glee and something else. Sorrow? Her dark eyes unsettled him a bit, and the butterflies that had been squirming earlier had now brought out their wings and were fluttering everywhere. As he gazed at her continuously, her features seemed to relax somewhat, making his butterflies feel at ease. It was then that he realized Clary was no longer in the room, making new emotions come in, such as fear, nervousness, and awkwardness.
"So…his name is Max… that's nice..."
Isabelle had turned back to what she'd been doing before Clary and Simon had come in, acting as if he wasn't there. He felt his face flush as he stood there, wondering what he should do. Should he try striking up a conversation? Small talk perhaps? Should he possibly bring up their last encounter? Or should he bring up them? Max, who seemed to realize he had lost the attention of Clary, began to make small whimpering sounds, trying to get someone's attention. Isabelle turned her head slightly, looking at Simon from the corner of her eyes.
"Could you…I'm busy..."
Simon looked down at the blue baby, seeing those large eyes simper for affection. His butterflies began to act up once again, but did as Isabelle had asked.
He thought he could hear a soft laugh, but wasn't sure if it was Isabelle herself, for she had turned around and gone back to cooking. He took Clary's now vacant chair and tried his best smile for the blue baby.
"So...your names Max huh? Do you like that name?"
Max gurgled happily, drool dripping from the right corner of his puckered lips. His eyes up close where flaked with blue hues, which made them kind of mesmerizing to look into.
"Awwwl~."
Simon glanced at Isabelle then back at Max, furrowing his brows.
"Uh...I'm afraid I don't speak baby, my tiny dude."
Max screwed up his face in what looked like an expression of exasperation and pointed to where Isabelle stood, moving his fingers as if to grab her. Simon, being the youngest child of his own family and never had to deal with kids younger than himself, which made him kind of at a roadblock. Max wiggled his fingers some more, pushing at the highchairs arms irritably.
"Maaaag~"
Simon felt like there was more than just a language barrier between him and Max, so he turned his attention to Isabelle. However, before he could even utter a word out, a breath even, he heard the Institute doors swing open. Max perked up at the noise and began to babble, bubbles coming out of his mouth as an end result. As the door swung close voices could be heard, voices Simon could place with faces. Alec and Jace.
"You almost got killed, moron! You need to start taking these missions more seriously!"
"Okay mom, I'll do just as I'm told and be a good little boy. I'd also lower my voice if I were you, Max picks up on everything he hears you say."
The rest of the argument was inaudible until the two men appeared in the kitchen doorway, Alec looking irritated and Jace covered in blood and dirt. Jace's hair was filthy, twigs, leaves, and mud tangled within it. Next, to that, he had blood everywhere, his face, his body, and even his shoes. As he spotted Simon sitting next to Max, Isabelle made a tutting noise, one of disappointment and disgust.
"You don't step another toe in my kitchen until you clean mister. I just cleaned this morning. Don't mess it up already."
Jace grinned, but did not proceed to walk into the kitchen, for he knew better than anyone, not to test his sister. Alec, on the other hand, looked extremely clean next to his parabatai, his black hair plastered to his face, his blue eyes piercing. He walked straight in Simon's direction, giving him a cool (kind?) smile before reaching for Max and cradling the blue boy in his arms. Max laughed, a tinkling sound that resonated around the room. He walked to where Isabelle stood, muttering to her in low voice, too low for Simon to hear clearly. Jace waved at Simon and motioned him over, looking him up and down. Jace was standing by the door, leaning against the frame and grinning at Simon like they were the best of friends, which, if he remembered right, was not a true fact.
"Wow, you sure are looking like a Shadowhunter every time I see you."
Simon nodded, feeling hollow inside. He couldn't tell if Jace was being serious or joking, and didn't feel like risking the chance to ask.
"Yeah, well. It has only been two months after all. Anyways, I thought you were with Clary in your room."
Jace's golden eyes flashed, excitement emanating from him.
"Well, yes, I was. But then Alec and I had a fire message about some urgent mission, one that we handled quite well I think."
Simon looked Jace over once again, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.
"If this is what you call handling well, you're insane. You're covered in blood."
Jace grinned, showing off his insane supermodel like teeth.
"And you're just noticing this? Come on, we've known each other for years now. I'm hurt you don't know this about me. This isn't my blood anyways."
Simon could only raise his eyebrows even further. Jace waved his hand as if it was nothing and continued.
"I've been meaning to talk to you anyhow, great to see you back. I wanted to ask you something that involves the Clave. Is it true what the council is saying about you? About your memories?"
The room was dead silent, making Simon wish he could just fall into the shadows of the walls around. He could feel his face heat up fairly fast, making him look anywhere but the people in the room. Alec and Isabelle had stopped talking, both looking at Simon curiously. Isabelle was the only person who knew of Simon's returning memories since the Ascending ceremony, but didn't know they had all come back. Last time the two had spoken was at George's grave, where he had only admitted to getting some reminiscences of memory. Now the subject was an open door.
"What do you mean? What's the council saying about Simon?"
Isabelle had stopped cooking all together now, the pot of spaghetti left on the stove forgotten, her eyes bearing into her brothers. Jace, who seemed to have noticed the awkward position he'd landed Simon in, tried to laugh it off change the topic, not succeeding in the slightest.
"You know...now that I think about it's not all that important. What are you making for dinner Izzy? Smells delicious! I can't wait to eat it!"
Amongst Jace trying to change to topic, his parabatai had silently walked out of the kitchen, looking at Jace as if he was ready to throttle him. Simon assumed he was leaving to head back to Magnus's place, where Alec himself lived part-time. As they exited the room, Max's threw one last look at Simon, looking curious and confused at the same time. Simon could feel his stomach turn over and roll a few times, the curiosity and fear eating at his body and mind. What were the council saying about him? Was it something about his Ascension? How could he have offended the Clave already? Isabelle had her intense eyes locked on Jace and then snapped them to Simon just as suddenly as if she'd found her next kill.
"I'm glad you find my food appealing Jace, but now is not the time to discuss dinner. What's the Clave saying about Simon? What has he done this time?"
Simon felt a little hurt at the final words that left Isabelle, but at the same time, couldn't help agreeing with her. If his memories served him right, The Lightwoods, Clary and other beings of the Shadow World had often found themselves in danger because of him. He looked down, unable to meet anyone's gaze, feeling a bit sick. Jace smiled and motioned Simon to follow him, quick to be gone of his sister's rage.
"It's nothing Izzy, nothing worth interrupting your cooking. If you don't mind myself saying, I'm going to go take Simon to his room. He's probably wishing damn well he'd found it much earlier today. Come on now."
Isabelle opened her mouth to retort something back at him, but Jace was gone. Simon hurried past her quickly, not daring to look in her general direction. He could feel the displeasure radiating from her, wishing a million times he didn't have such a complicated life. Jace didn't say anything as he led Simon upstairs, not until they reached the landing of the highest step where Jace turned.
"Sorry for bringing that up. I didn't think Izzy would take such an interest in...well you."
"Yeah...neither did I actually."
Simon shrugged, another wave of hurt coming over him. Jace continued leading him, through hallways and passages until the two reached a plain brown door, with a few noticeable scratches and gouge marks.
"Well, here is where we've placed you. Clary suggested putting you near the training rooms, said you were intent on training."
Simon nodded and opened the door, glancing around the dark room. It smelled rather dusty and obviously hadn't been used in what he could assume a few decades. Jace patted him on the shoulder, in what he could only assume was a reassuring way.
"Well, get comfy and cozy while you can! Your first mission starts tomorrow."
Simon coughed, feeling his heart stop dead in its tracks.
"But I only just got-"
"That's how things work here Simon. You have to be prepared for anything. Anything at any time."
Simon bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood. It was disgusting and full of iron, bring back flashes of when Simon had been a vampire, someone who had lived off the substance as a source a life. The memories made his stomach roll, making his vision blur a bit.
"So, where are your clothes and whatnot?"
Simon felt his face flush, making him groan and smack himself internally. He could see Jace from the corner of his eyes, trying hard not to laugh out loud, which Simon appreciated.
"I... think I left them back at the portal in Indris."
Simon, who didn't have many things since becoming a Shadowhunter, hadn't had the thought of belongings for a while now. He didn't have many clothes, and leaving those behind were fine. He could always buy more. The one item he, however, did regret leaving was his bow and arrow, a weapon he'd found quite useful as he trained at the academy.
"We can send a message later today if you'd like."
"Ah, your right…I could send a fire message."
Jace raised his golden blonde eyebrows, looking at him in a quizzical way.
"And who do you know in Indris? I mean-"
"Marisol and Jon. They're getting some extra training before getting located."
Jace's eyebrows shot higher if possible, a smirk appearing on his lips.
"Jonathan Cartwright? The ass-kisser?"
Simon let out a forced laugh and nodded. He remembered when Jace had come to teach a lesson and how Jon had been like a puppy to Jace, something Jace couldn't seem to get over with. Jace was still smiling, which made Simon scoff.
"Well…I guess I should shower and stuff. You should too, you really do stink."
The smile on Jace's face was now replaced with one of annoyance, his eyes glinting somewhat darkly.
"And here I thought we could get along Lewis."
Simon felt a pang go through him, one of faint indignation.
"It's Lovelace."
Simon felt pride ripple through him as he said those words, feeling lighter and proud of the Shadowhunter name he'd adopted in honor of his first friend. Jace smiled and nodded, holding his hands up in a defensive gesture.
"Lovelace, hm? That's an ancient Shadowhunter surname, an honorable one. Almost as honorable as mine actually. Has a ring to it though. Simon Lovelace. Simon Lovelace. Simon Lovelace."
"Yes Jace, Lovelace. Please don't wear it out."
The other cracked a small smile before turning on his heel.
Simon ended up not eating dinner, working more on getting comfortable in his new environment called room. Seeing as he didn't bring anything from Idris, he thought he'd lay down and try and feel at home, which didn't work the least. The bare walls and wooden floors made him feel as if he were completely isolated from the world outside. He also didn't want to eat dinner for the reason of Isabelle, because he still felt very uneasy around her, unsure of what she thought of him. Clary had stopped in before bed, making sure he was doing fine. She came bearing gifts as well, ones such as extra clothes folded and placed in a small pile, some Shadowhunter gear and a brand new stele.
"I heard they didn't give the people who Ascended steles, so I thought about it and bought you one, think of it as an early parabatai gift."
The stele looked like any other, long and metal with runes etched all around. It felt icy cold as it sat in his palm, feeling like an icicle in the warmth of his body.
"Don't tell me I have to get you something Fairchild, I've got no money whatsoever."
Clary laughed, dropping the small bundle of clothes lightly onto his bed and hopping on, making herself comfortable. She stretched out her body like a feline, laying on her stomach and looking at Simon with an acute expression.
"So...need any DTR advice? I'm always open."
Simon let out an exasperated laugh and turned to meet her eyes, feeling slightly annoyed.
"Oh my god Clary, would you give it a rest? It's not- we're not- just go to bed! I have to get up early tomorrow morning."
"Nope. I'm not going anywhere until you fix things with Izzy. It's stifling when you two are in the same room, and I could honestly cut the sexual tension with a knife if I had one too."
Simon could feel his face flush, and his heartbeat skip.
"We're not-"
Clary held up her hands, motioning him to be silent. When Simon opened his mouth to speak again, she shot him a rather deadly look.
"Shush, let me talk."
Simon had no other choice, it seemed, so he sat down and waited. Clary smiled, glad she had won the fight.
"Well, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, I was gonna give you some good DTR advice."
"Remind me again what that means?"
"Define the relationship, we've had this conversation before."
"Oh have we now? Hmm, I don't seem to recall..."
Clary glared at him, her eyes flashing.
"You know what Si, I'm trying to help you get the girl of your dreams back, and it's starting to get on my nerves, on everyone's. Tomorrow morning, You, Izzy, Jace and myself will be going on a mission to track down a rogue Vampire. I'm going with Jace and you are going with Isabelle. You two seriously need to DTR."
The morning came too fast for Simon's liking, making him wish the night had lasted for eternity. He hadn't gotten much sleep as well, the lumpy pillows and blankets keeping him awake all night. It was around six in the morning when Simon, who felt extremely sleep deprived, heard a knock on his door. It was Jace.
"Rise and shine Lovelace! It's mission time."
Simon felt his heart pound and stomach turn.
"Alright, I'm up."
Simon crawled out of bed slowly, his brain feeling groggy and unclear. He threw on his dark Shadowhunter gear in a timely manner, quickly checking himself out before heading downstairs. He looked awful. He steadily made his way downstairs, passing many open that lay ajar, doors that lead into rooms looking identical to his very own. As he made his way silently towards the kitchen, he heard Jace's voice, seemingly talking about a plan.
"Sleeping Lovelace have any sweet dreams?"
"Hardly."
Jace leaned over the kitchen table, hands pressing and prodding something that looked like a blueprint. Clary sat eating some toast and eggs, while Isabelle looked over her shoulder at the blueprints. When Simon walked in, however, she straightened her back, long dark hair tucked under a black hood, eyes looking passively into space. Simon felt squeamish once again, but nevertheless did his best to hide it.
"So, our mission...What is it exactly?"
Jace looked up and grinned, showing off his blueprints somewhat proudly.
"A rogue vampire that goes by the name of Laurent Krii. Over the past few couple decades, he's been stealing off with mundane women in wild spurts. The Clave, of course, has tried tracking the bloodsucker down but have always gotten there just a bit too late. Here are the blueprints of his rumored whereabouts, and we're the first ones going to check it out."
"A vampire? Shouldn't Lily be taking care of this?"
Jace looked older in the moment, a crease forming on his forehead.
"They've tried, but Laurent Krii is cruel and manipulative. He refuses to abide by the laws, something the New York clan dislike very much. In Lily's words he's arrogant, does things as he sees fit, and worst of all is a sweet talker. And as you can tell, his preferences in meals are...unregrettable."
"And when you say unregrettable you mean-"
"He kills crowds of women rather than individuals, drawing the attention of mundane police and then killing them as well. He disappears with no way to track him, just as fast as he comes."
Simon, turned, his ears perking in Isabelle's direction. She wasn't looking at him, but down at her very well kept manicured hands. He nodded, feeling Jace and Clary's eyes on him, blushing a bit as he took a seat next to Clary, stealing a piece of toast off her plate.
"And the plan to defeating him?"
"Take him down, hopefully ending his reign of slaughter."
"Whoopi, can't wait."
The blueprints that Jace had been ogling over belonged to an abandoned building in a rather deserted part of New York. Not many mundanes seemed present in the area, with the exception of a few homeless men. Before leaving the institute, Clary had marked Simon's arms with runes such as the rune of precision, to better his aim when using his bow, a rune of stamina and fearlessness. She'd also drawn runes on his torso, runes such as the rune of clarity and agility. He could feel his skin sting from where the stele had been pressed, trying his best to not show any pain. He hoped his fearlessness rune worked, for at the moment he wasn't feeling all the brave. As the four stood outside the building, he could definitely feel his stomach turn.
"Okay, everyone remembers the plan? Great, let's get going."
Jace and Clary vanished behind the back while Simon and Isabelle pushed their way through the barricaded front door. Isabelle led, which Simon had no objections to, seeing her eyes and senses were sharp as a cats. The entrance to the building was covered thick coats of dust and cobwebs, making Simon's nose extremely itchy. He hated the wall of silence that isolated them, wanting nothing more then to break it down. Icebreakers.
"So...Clary says we need to DTR...us..."
He couldn't see Isabelle's expression but imagined her raising her eyebrows in a questioning way. Had he been to kick to jump the gun?
"...does she now…"
Her voice was soft, almost honey coated in Simon's opinion.
"Y-yeah um I-"
Isabelle turned, her eyes glinting in the faint light, seemly irritated.
"Look Simon. Right now is not the time to be discussing this. We're on a mission. Mission before...personal problems."
"B-but we need to talk. I mean, I-I don't like being so distant and-"
"Simon...Just stop."
"I-I'm... sorry if I've done something to offend you...I mean I-"
A loud bang interrupted him mid-speech, making Isabelle whip her head and focus somewhere far from Simon.
"Isabelle, if we could just talk about ho-"
"Sh. Come on. We're close."
Close to what though, Simon had no clue, and personally didn't want to.
"W-what do you think-"
Another loud bang, this time much closer. Isabelle's whip slid into her hand, eyes rapidly maneuvering the room. Simon, as quietly as he could, slid his bow off his shoulders, readying an arrow. The loud bangs kept going off randomly, closer at first then seemingly getting deeper within the abandoned building. Simon's hairs stood on edge, his eyes wide and awake, trying to see past the darkness and dark aura that filled the air. He could hear Isabelle's breath next to him, sounding faint in comparison to his own, her whip glinting every now and then.
"Isabelle...where-"
And once again, just as before, he was interrupted by a loud bang, one that sounded as if it came from the very room they were maneuvering through. Just as Simon felt he couldn't get any more freaked out at the situation, he felt a pair of cold hands vigorously wrap around his neck, pulling him back into the darkness before he could even let out a gasp. He dropped his bow with a loud clang and grabbed at the hands, his fingers digging into the cold flesh that held him. He struggled against the grip, feeling his chest clench in an attempt to draw in a breath. He could feel his body being dragged along the dusty floor, his eyes going in and out of focus, and his throat burning for oxygen. He felt so helpless, so useless he almost stopped fighting.
That's when he felt his body stop moving, the cold hands leaving his throat, letting him suck in desperately needed breaths, feeling like fire in his lungs. He lay on the dirty ground, trying to catch his breath and sight. That's when he heard a small laugh from somewhere far in front of him, one that was high in pitch.
"I told you not to harm him, love, humans are such fragile creatures. So small. So weak."
The voice that spoke was soft, high and girlish. Simon, still on the floor, lifted his head just enough to see who was in front of him. What he saw was not what he had been expecting. In front of him, reclining on what looked like a throne made of human bones, sat a young woman. She was pale as every vampire would be, pearly white skin and inhuman beauty. She wore a red long dress, one that fit her body a bit too well. Her lips were tinted dark red, and teeth sharp and exposed. Two women stood silently beside her, their heads hung low in submission. Other figures stood around throughout the room, heads hung low, or eyes watching steadily. The women on the throne stretched out leisurely, narrowing her slim eyes at Simon, a look of pleasure flowering in her dark red eyes.
"Well, look who has come to pay us a visit! Nephilim spawn! One who was once one of us. Yes, I know of you boy. Once called daylighter, am I right? What a treat!"
She clapped her hands excitedly, excitement radiating from where she sat.
"Camron, love, would you do the honors of restraining our guest? Don't want a mess like last time do we now?"
A young youth stepped out from the crowd of watcher's, eyes staring blankly at Simon, gray and dull.
"Yes lady Laurent, just as you please."
As he began to walk closer, Simon noticed something odd. The boy looked to be in his early teens, perhaps someone only in their freshman year of school. His clothes were tattered to bits on his body, while his lips looked dry and cracked. The most shocking detail about him that shook Simon to the core was that atop his head, lay a mop of bright silverish white hair. Simon was still unable to use his limbs correctly, struggling only for moments against the boy. Soon his feet, mouth, and hands were bound with a thick rope that dug deep into his flesh. The women, Laurent as the boy had called her smiled even more broadly, peeling her lips back to reveal a terrifying smile.
"Well now, this is going to be fun. Lucy! Get me my... blue jeweled encrusted box. Do not open it!"
There was a scuffling sound from Simon's right, minutes later shown to be a girl who was no older than ten. She was as gaunt as the boy Camron, looking thinner than anything. Her hair, which was tied back hastily with what looked like rope, was filthy and knotted, with small streaks of silverish white going through it. That's when Simon quickly glanced out into the watchful crowd, all noticing that the men and women alike had silverish white hair, unnaturally pale skin as well as unusual eyes.
"Thank you Lucy love, you and Camron will surely get an extra dosage later tonight."
Simon snapped his eyes back to Laurent, his eyes widening slightly as she carried the box closer to where he lay. Upon seeing this, she smiled, showing off her needle-like teeth even more.
"It sure has been a while since I've had to deal with your kind boy, and I will say, I'm rather rusty."
She puckered his lips out, looking mildly disappointed in herself. The moment had gone just as fast as it had come.
"Well, seeing as I'm practically loaded with this stuff I might as well treat you, hm?"
She slowly opened the red box, revealing a white powdery substance within. As she did so, the crowd swayed, their eyes no longer on Simon but the box. Laurent noticed and bared her teeth, glaring at the figures around.
"Don't you even think about it! Tell me, have you gotten the girl?"
There was a grumble around and one figure stepped forward, dragging forward a figure that made his heart sink. It was Isabelle, her head slung awkwardly to one side while blood dripped from her neck. He made a mad struggle to get nearer to her, his heart pounding with worry and fear. Had she been bitten by one of these people? Was she dead? Laurent took notice of his actions, smiling a bit.
"I friend I can only guess...poor you…"
She snapped her fingers and two more figures stepped up, roughly holding Isabelle by the arms and neck. Isabelle emitted sounds, as if she were drowning and couldn't reach the surface. Simon wanted to break from the ropes they bound and run at them, knock them to the ground and beat them to a pulp. His heart was pounding frantically, uncontrollably.
'Not Isabelle. Please, not Isabelle. By the angel where the hell are Jace and Clary? Not Isabelle, please...'
Laurent, who most likely took notice of Simon's heart rate glanced over. They met eyes for the briskly, Simon trying to convey his message to her.
'Don't hurt Isabelle. Please by the angels don't hurt-'
"Well well well, what do we have here? Is she your lover? Perhaps fiancee? Or even wife? You two looked like you could be married. Nephilim marry at such a young age, always have if I remember correctly."
She sniffed, a smile dancing on her ruby red lips.
"You sure are a spunky one though, I'll give you that boy. It's enjoyable. Hm, let's see...what shall we d- Stevens! Take your hands off of her neck this instant! She needs to be alive for this to work!" How many times must I say this!?"
There was a grunt of apology, and Laurent, once satisfied, smiled and continued. Simon felt at ease as he no longer heard Isabelle struggle for air. Her breathing was still quite ragged, but sounded better then it had before.
"How should we do this ladies and gentlemen? Should we make her take it orally? Or perhaps stuff it down her nose? What do you all think?"
Simon had no idea what was in the box, but the idea of it touching Isabelle made him see red. He managed to scramble to his knees, his chest heaving with the effort. The figures around murmured, backing away as his body trembled, trying to stay upright. Laurent turned, looking very annoyed.
"What is it now? I'm trying to do something here."
Simon tried to talk, nothing more then muffled cries coming out. Laurent looked even more irritating.
"Ugh! Stop your yammering already boy! Someone take the gag off of him! He's driving me crazy."
A young woman came up to Simon looking nervous as she slowly, with shaking hands, untied the gag. When it fell, Simon coughed, feeling how dry his mouth had gotten. Laurent was glaring at him, her eyes full of hate.
"What is it?"
Her voice dripped acid as she stared at him, and he knew just what she was thinking of. Simon had to catch his breath before he spoke, and once he did, his voice still shook. His throat was dry
"Not...not her...m-me…d-don't hurt h-her..."
Laurent's lip curled upwards, a faint glint in her eyes.
"Already sacrificing yourself when you don't know what's going on? Rather a brave and stupid one. But if you truly insist I shall not refuse. I mean, who wouldn't want yin fen? It makes blood taste the sweetest in my opinion."
Simon's skin crawled when those words left her mouth, memories of his bloodlust flashing through his mind. He felt relieved when the two men holding Isabelle had let her go, her body laying on the ground untouched.
"Be-before you do anything...what is...what is yin fen?"
Laurent smiled and walked up to Simon stood, fingers dancing lightly on his shoulders and neck.
"Well my young Shadowhunter, I'll tell you. Yin fen is a warlocks drug produced in warlock caves. It's taken eons for me to acquire the stash I have, one that could last me eons more."
"Warlock...drug?"
"Yes, a drug produced by warlocks. It heightens one's ability to fight, as well as becoming an energizer to many. Oh my how exciting this is! How long has it been since a Shadowhunter has had to suffer yin fen? Far too long...mhm…"
Simon didn't know what she meant by that and didn't have much time to think about it either. Two figures stepped forward, grabbing Simon roughly around the arms, knocking him off his feet and lifting him ever so slightly. Laurent smiled and sauntered closer to where Simon was held, bearing her needle-like teeth once again.
"This is going to be fun! Oh so fun!"
The blue box bounced around lightly in her elegant hands, the powder getting slightly disheveled. As she reached him, inches away from his face.
"Hm hm hm~ Do you smell it? Its sweetness is rather revealing."
"W-why don't you take the drug? I mean you seem to love it and-"
"Why don't I take it? Simple boy! It would kill me! Yin fen is known as a brutal yet slow killer, especially to those who are of the Shadow world. That's why I have so many subjects, all shapes and sizes, ages and ethnicities. Blood tastes the best when laced with yin fen."
"I thought making subjects was banned by the Clave? And from drinking their blood, wouldn't you be affected by it?"
Laurent chuckled, shaking her head.
"Well, that's the Clave. I don't listen nor do I care for their laws."
As she spoke, her fingers worked on reopening the blue box, diamonds shimmering in the dull light.
"And about the blood, surprisingly not. It is still a mystery as to how I can still feed and not get affected, but something that doesn't bother me so much."
She had managed to finally pry the box open, silvery powder visible. There were moans and groans from around, which made Laurent click her tongue.
"Now now now, settle down my loves. I know your hearts and minds yearn for this touch of poison upon your lips, but you must wait."
Her eyes hadn't left Simon's, her lips curling up and smiling that dark devilish smile.
"Now...now we shall begin."
Simon's heart pounded in his rib cage, his brain short-circuiting and clouded by thoughts of fear. Laurent drew in closer, her needle-like teeth inches away from his face. Moments after, he could feel his jaw being forced open, could feel something that felt like four being forced into his mouth. He felt cold hands grip his neck, tilting his head back with a forceful strength. He didn't want to inhale, didn't want to swallow the crude substance being forced down.
He could hear Laurent's high pitched laugh echo throughout the room, sounding as if it was far from where he stood to struggle. The white powder burned his nose and throat, making him twist in pain, letting out small whimpers of pain. Through the pain and his blurry eyes, he could see the vampire pull out something small and tubular, only to realize moments after that it was a syringe.
"N-n-no! St-top! I-it hur-hurts! P-ple-please I-"
He felt something sharp and cold enter his body, pulsing even more of the white powder in. Simon was in hell, even more hell then he had been when he had actually been in hell. Just where on earth were Clary and Jace? Had they too been caught? Were they now thrown somewhere deep and dark? No, they couldn't be. Clary and Jace just couldn't. They had to be alive somewhere.
Through the pain throbbing in his whole body now, he thought he could hear something behind Laurent's laugh, something like the scrapping of metal on something. He was probably hallucinating though, maybe his mind was making him hear things. His nerves were feeling as if they were on fire; being restricted only made it worse. He wanted to stretch his limbs, run and fight the worst monster in New York, which was something that frightened him. Simon was never the one to go looking for trouble, never the one who looked for fights. These thoughts could only be caused by the yin fen, for a sane Simon would probably be running in the other direction.
As time passed, Simon slowly managed to gain control of his breathing. The pain he'd felt in the beginning was now subsiding, letting his mind clear so that his thoughts could run steadily once again. Cold sweat drenched his whole body, which now ached as he slumped to the ground. Pale feet came into his eyesight, ones that were strangely beautiful in Simon's opinion. Vampires and their inhuman beauty. High laughter reverberated around the room, ringing in Simon's sore ears, reminding him of an alarm clock going off. Laurent's face now loomed above him, eyes looking as if she was more human than human. She cooed seeing the state she had left the other in, eyes gleaming with glee.
"My...look at the little Shadowhunter… all worn out from your first dosage of yin fen...poor Shadowhunter…"
Simon felt like throwing up, his throat so dry it hurt to breathe. His nose felt as if it had been roasted in a fire, feeling especially sore when he tried inhaling. He forced himself to lift his head, his eyes to scan the crowd.
'Where was Isabelle? Where-'
"If you're looking for your lover, she's not here. My faithful Stevens has locked her up nice and tightly down in one our dungeon. I feel giving her a hefty dose would be very pleasurable to watch."
"I t-thought you'd on-only harm o-one o-of us...p-ple-please don't h-hurt I-Izzy...pl-please…"
As he rasped out these words, his throat burned, his chest tightening from the pain. Laurent smiled and shook her head slowly, looking down at Simon with almost pity in her eyes.
"Oh, my boy, how I cannot follow through with your request. Nephilim have always been so powerful and brave over the centuries! What is the age we live in now? One of pushovers and lovers? So torn that they follow their hearts instead of their wit and logic! Why, when I was newly made by Alexei de Quincey himself, we basked in the blood of mundanes, not having to worry about such matters as the Cla-"
Laurent stopped mid-sentence, her face frozen in what Simon later placed as horror. She stayed like that for a split second until something protruded from her chest, the point of a freshly shot arrow, gleaming with the dark blood of vampires. She let out a howling wail and clutched at her chest, dropping to her knees and coughing up droplets of scarlet. The subjects around made noises of outraged, coming forward to try and help their mistress. Hands were stretched out as if to help, only to be sliced away by a blinding light.
"Simon!"
He heard his name being called, but was unsure of where it was coming from. The yells and screams of the subjects were overpowering, making the room rumble, making Simon's ears ring.
"Simon! Over here!"
He looked around wildly, only seeing bright lights flash as more bodies slumped onto the ground. He heard yells, bright blonde and red hair flashing amongst the crowd of silver.
'Finally, they're here..'
Simon smiled as he caught sight of Clary, her hair widely whipping around her face as she cut down the subjects. Laurent's body had now stopped moving in front of him, her eyes staring into space and her lips forming a cold, dead smile. Simon smiled back, feeling his eyelids grow heavy every passing minute. They had done it. His first mission seemed to have gone alright, or as right as one could go with two members of the operation down. As he smiled, eyes still focused on Laurent's beautiful but dead features, a feeling of tranquility passed him, and for once since returning to New York, he felt truly at peace.
'I wonder if George can see this? Maybe he's laughing at such a failure I am...heh, he is…'
And with those thoughts dreamily whirling across in his mind, Simon drifted into unconsciousness, feeling as if he was finally able to sleep well.
Simon wasn't sure where he was, for all was cold and dark around. He could hear as if someone was talking to him, but the voice sounded as if it was far off, apart of another universe.
"Simon...is he….come on...oh Simon..."
Wasn't he awake though? Sure he couldn't see his surroundings but he felt very awake. As the voice kept talking he realized with every word, the voice became more clear, more emotion being heard.
"He has to walk up…has to..."
"He's going to Izzy, no need to worry. He's a fighter."
"He sure didn't express those skills…"
Simon was confused. Just where on earth was he? Who was talking and what did it have to do with Isabelle? As he listened more, he began to feel around. His whole body seemed to be cushioned by what felt like a cloud, soft and light to his touch. He was wrapped in warmth, almost like he was sitting close by a roaring fire.
"I'm sure he was just nervous. It was his first mission after all."
"I'm sure it was the fact that he brought up that we needed to DTR, which I think was a large discretion and-"
"He's not wrong there Izzy, you guys really need to talk. You act as if he isn't even present, which must hurt. Plus he's still dealing with George's death. They were really close and I can tell that Simon really appreciated him"
Silence. There were sounds such as shuffling, feet scuffling, and low whispers. A new voice now joined, one that was smooth and calming.
"We should discuss more on his condition I think. Yin fen is not to be taken lightly, it kills."
There was more murmuring, more low whispers.
"Do any of you know the amount he was injected with? When he wakes up it is possible he will crave yin fen. It's a highly addictive drug, as I'm sure Laurent would have explained. She seemed...extremely pleased about her stash... "
"No...I was unconscious when that vampire did...did that to him…"
More silence followed, only to be interrupted by the sound of the door opening. More feet hurried in and more whispers sounded. Simon felt he should talk, say he was good and feeling in tip top condition. He hated it when others worried for him, making him curse himself. He hated feeling like he needed to be pitied, some poor, lost child who needed to always be steered in the right direction.
He tried first with opening his eyes, which felt like nothing more then pulling a gum out of hair (don't ask). He then tried with his hands and feet, trying with all his strength to move them, show the people around him that he was awake and fine. When that didn't work he let out a moan of irritation, one that finally seemed to break through his invisible barrier. Around him chairs scrapped and feet moved, closer to where Simon was.
"S-Simon? Are you awake? Simon, can you hear me?"
It was Isabelle, her voice soft and low, hoarse and shaky. He felt something warm slide into his hand, grasping his firmly.
"Simon…?"
As he forced his eyes to open, tearing skin as he did so, bright light blinded him. He winced and tried lifting his hands to shade his eyes, only to have his muscles become sore bricks. It took him a few moments for his eyes to clear and once the blindness had passed, he saw that everyone was around him. Jace, Isabelle, Alec, Magnus, Max, Clary, Luke, Jocelyn, Myres, Robert, Mia, Bat, Jem and Tessa. Everyone looked at Simon as if he had woken from the dead, which he probably looked like he had. Clary and her mother both looked relieved, their smiles radiant while Luke just shook his head. Jem looked relieved while Tessa held her heart, her face showing that she had been fearing the worst. The other faces blurred together, because the only one he could really focus on was Isabelle.
Isabelle had both her hands clenched tightly around Simon's hands, so tight that he thought his circulation was getting cut off. Her cheeks were tear stained and eyes red. She wore no makeup, wondering just how long he had been out for. Isabelle forgetting makeup was like him forgetting the whole synopsis of the Star Wars Trilogy. It was simply unheard of.
Jem stepped forward and and extended a hand, an old gesture to ask if he could check Simon's forehead. With all the strength he could muster, Simon nodded once, letting his eyes close slightly as he felt the cold touch of the once silent brother.
"His fever has gone down quite a bit in just the few moments he's been awake. It is a good sign, one that means his body is healing. Now Simon, I must ask...do you feel a burn in your chest? One that perhaps is telling you that you need whatever to give you energy?"
Simon didn't really understand what Jem was asking, but once asked about his chest pains he frowned. At the mention of wanting something, something had lit up inside, something he wanted desperately. He gave one short nod. He noticed Tessa pale as she watched him, clutching her chest ever so tightly. Isabelle's eyes were stormy dark, ones that lightning could very well have shot out from.
"What's that supposed to mean br- Jem I mean. Is he going to be okay?"
The dark haired man shook his head, looking up and down at Simon's appearance.
"I'm unsure...he's physically shows signs of inhaling and ingesting yin fen and we still are unsure of how much he was given…"
He trailed off, staring past where Simon lay. Clary let out a muffled cry, tears spilling from her eyes. No. No one would make Clary cry, not even if it was himself. Especially himself. He mustered the remainder of his strength, trying to utter a few words as best he could.
"L...Laurent...woman…? I….?"
Isabelle looked frightened as Simon tried to speak, looking up at Jem for signs of him telling him to stop. Jem was still staring off into blankness and Tessa, who looked more shocked then anyone, nodded at her, a small smile dancing on her lips.
"Yes, you're probably confused at what you discovered. Let me explain. Laurent Krii was a woman, one the Clave had to deal with for years. No one really knew who she was truly, but up until now, that mystery is solved. She's dead now thanks to you Simon, something that should have happened years ago. She seemed to have a bloodlust much like her creator did, one that she wasn't going to hide in any century that passed, She was one of the last vampires to be created by Alexei de Quincey, one of the last true vampires of Paris."
A long pause followed, only to be broken by Iabelles heavy breathing. Simon noticed her eyes going back and forth from his eyes, hair, arms and back, as if she was searching or seeing something brand new. Simon only wished he'd knew what she was seeing.
Turns out Simon had been out a whole week, his condition being unstable for most of it. He was forbidden, by Clary, to leave the infirmary, his use of the bathroom being the only excuse that slid by her. Isabelle hadn't visited since the day he'd waken, which made him feel somewhat empty inside. He wondered if she was mad at him for almost getting killed, wondered if she felt she was to blame. Jace had assured him that wasn't the case, but a part of him did wonder if she'd just told Jace that so he'd leave her alone. He'd had to call home and tell his mom he was really sick, that he had caught something up where his military camp was. He hated lying to his mom, hated it since his memories had come back, but she couldn't know what he'd been through, she just couldn't.
About two days after Simon had gained consciousness, stabbing pains had hit him from inside his body, making him cletch his gut and teeth. Jem had told him that he would have side effects of the yin fen, bouts of pain, fatigue and whatnot. He told Simon that he had to distance himself from substances like food, for they would trigger the yin fen desire. So Simon, for the most part, had been surviving on water and interesting concoctions made by Magnus and Tessa both.
Everytime Simon walked passed a window or mirror, he couldn't help glancing in. His reflection stared back, looking even more foreign to him. His eyes didn't seem as brown as they had always been as a child, looking dusty and dull. His skin also looked pale, almost to what it had looked like when he was a vampire, something that shocked him greatly. The most startling thing however was his hair, which had gained the silverish look of the subjects. He brushed his fingers through his hair subconsciously, feeling that his hair brought unwanted attention
As he layed in the infirmary, scrolling down books on the parabatai ceremony, he heard the door creak open slightly. It was Isabelle, in dark leather pants and a very revealing tank top. Typical Isabelle style. Simon pretended not to notice, his eyes retracing the sentences he'd read before six tems. He heard her heeled boots click in time as she quickly walked over, her presence quite...determined. Simon's heart leapt as she walked closer, the clicks getting even louder as she drew nearer. Simon looked up just as she stopped in front of him, in just enough time to see her worried and nervous expression.
"Si-simon...I wanted to...to talk…"
Simon closed the book he was reading slowly, his heart racing. Just what did she want to talk about? Was she going to finally say what he had done? What he hadn't? He slowly lifted his head to face her, only to see her eyes fill with tears. This was rare, she never let anyone see her cry. Ever.
"Simon...I'm so so sorry for how I've been acting ever since you got back...I'm a terrible person and you should hate me for it...I-I almost got you killed, and C-Clary hasn't been talking to me and-"
Tears now streamed down her face, her making going as it did. She didn't seem to notice and kept going, stunning Simon as words left her lips. Simon could tell that she was angry at herself, for not talking when she needed to and when on the mission. Her voice was so heavy with guilt that Simon's heart panged. He didn't want her to feel this way. Her blaming herself ripped at his insides, pulling everything he'd been trying to hide since he first arrived back at New York.
"...And n-now look at you! Th-this is a-all my fault a-and if i-it hadn't been for me y-you w-wouldn't be in s-such a con-condition."
More tears rolled down her cheeks, landing on the white tile beneath. Simon stared at her, lost for words. His lungs stopped for a moment as he tried to understand what she was saying, unable to look away from where Isabelle stood. She was now wiping her eyes with the back of her hands, smearing her already smeared makeup. She noticed and let out a gasp of annoyance, covering her face entirely. She made a motion that told Simon she was about to leave, which on instinct he reached out.
"Iz, don't cry. This really had nothing to do with you."
She didn't pull away and sat heavily down next to his bed, still covering her face. When she spoke next, her voice was muffled, almost inaudible to hear.
"It has everything to do with me...everything…"
Simon could feel his throat stain as he tried to speak, ignoring the pain as it pushed forward. This was his only chance to to make things with Isabelle right again, the last chance he'd get ever.
"Isabelle...none of this happened...because of you...It just happened because it did…"
He raised himself from the bed, up to the point where he was (almost) face to face with her. He gently lifted his hands, tugging lightly as her damp hands. It was like pulling at iron jail bars.
"Isabelle, stop thinking this happened because of you, because it di-"
"It did Simon, it was all my fault! If I hadn't gotten knocked out so fast I could have saved you! You, recklessly dove head first into a situation you should have just left alone! I should have been the one to get hurt, I should have been the one to die!"
Those words hit Simon like daggers in the chest, puncturing his lungs and letting them deflate. Isabelle's hands had flown down from her face, her eyes looking extremely intense under her smeared mascara and eyeliner. Her face was red from crying and her lips puckered out, looking as if she'd just eaten something sour.
"There's no use lying about it Simon. Before we killed all of Laurent's subjects, a few of them told us their stories, told us that you had volunteered to be injected! If I hadn't been so stupid to get knocked out I could have kicked all their demon asses and killed Laurent myself!"
Simon shook his head slowly, smiling softly as he looked into Isabelle's dark stormy eyes.
"Iz...I knew what I was doing...I knew that me getting injected by the yin fn would save you. That's all I wanted. For you to be safe. That all I've ever wanted for you. Even when we weren't talking. I've only ever wanted you to be safe and happy."
Isabelle looked at him, her eyes glaring deep down into his soul. She chewed her lip subconsciously, her body losing its tenseness.
"Really…? Even after all those times I treated you-"
"Always Isabelle. You...you're the love of my life Izzy, have been probably been since I was just a regular mundane...Always…"
As he said those words, Simon felt his face heat up, his cheeks getting extremely red. He'd known this fact about himself and Isabelle ever since Magnus had given him back his memories partially, had always known that fact even when his mind did not. Isabelle was staring at him with a look of pure amazement, shock, and confusion.
"How…? I've been just so horrible...Simon….I don't…."
Simon chuckled and leaned closer to Isabelle, wiping away her mascara with one of his thumbs and smiling.
"It's just how I said it. I just always have. And I'm sorry for how I've been acting myself...I...I was still shocked at George's death...I suppose I...wallowed in myself for too long."
She let out a long exhale and clenched her jaw, looking at him in a new light. The storminess had left her dark eyes, leaving the beautiful backdrop they had always been.
"No...no Simon! You had every right to mourn George. He was your friend and everything…"
"But in doing so I pushed you away. I pushed everyone away actually. Some just decided to stand and watch from afar."
Isabelle nodded, her eyes gleaming with more tears that were just about to break the surface.
"S-Simon...I'm so so sorry for- I mean I-I was being such a jerk and I-"
"Shh, stop it Isabelle, it's not your fault. It's mine. Always had been."
She let out a sob that seemed to have been building with each passing moment, her shoulders shaking as she leaned into Simon's chest. The feeling of having Isabelle back felt warming and pleasing to the touch, something he'd missed so much while the two were apart. He too was crying, letting silent tears fall from his eyes, tears of exhaustion and tiredness. He finally had his Izzy back, finally had the spunky girl who told him what to do and wear back back.
"Never do anything like taking warlock drugs again...you'll die for sure...you're an idiot…"
Simon let out a soft laugh, pulling Isabelle slyly into the infirmary bed, snuggling her close to him.
"Yes, I know I'm an idiot, but I'm your idiot, and the only one you'll love this deeply hm? Lord Montgomery is forever in your service."
She laughed, her breath hitting his chest airly. The two stayed in their embrace for what felt like ages, enjoying one another's company. Isabelle had stopped crying, her soft sniffles turning into small hiccups. Simon's mind finally felt at peace.