It's been a while since I've read this, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Please excuse anything that I may have gotten wrong. My memory of what's canon is a bit shaky right now, but until I get my copy of the book, my memory will have to do.

Forgive and Forget

"No… no…" a voice moaned in the otherwise silent room. Baz rolled onto his side to pull his pillow over his head before he realized there shouldn't have been any noise at this time of night. "No, don't…" the voice mumbled, the sound of sheets moving at the foot of the other bed. Baz rolled onto his other side and stared across the room at his roommate who even in sleep couldn't seem to shut up.

Baz felt a shield of energy roll across the room and had to breathe in deeply for a moment. His lungs felt full of bright hot electricity, but instead of pushing it away, he wanted it closer, wanted that ineffable power running through every inch of his twelve year old body.

"Noo," the voice moaned again. Baz watched as Snow's hand fisted in the sheets. The night terrors weren't foreign to him. Snow had managed to have sixteen their first year here, but this was their first week back to school and Baz had spent the summer sleeping peacefully without energy pushing him into consciousness at two in the morning. Snow moaned again and followed it with a whimper and a burst of energy.

Aleister Crowley, Baz thought, shoving a hand through his floppy hair. If Snow doesn't wake up soon, I'm going to burst into flames.

Simon pushed the sheets back further with his feet and let out a scared whimper. Baz always wondered what he dreamed about on nights like this. The first time they had happened, Baz had woken him up and Snow had felt obligated to explain. Baz had mostly ignored his explanation of some evil fairy with vampire fangs and pink hair, but now he craved knowing what scared Simon Snow.

The window was open like usual and a light breeze blew Snow's hair off his forehead. Baz willed his eyes to shut, but he watched the strands of hair move against Snow's forehead. Baz felt a yearning for something down in his stomach and twisted over on his bed, tugging the pillow back over his head and staring out the window at the moon, so bright that he couldn't see the stars around it.

Snow had stopped moaning. The energy seemed to be a constant roll now, but it wasn't in sharp burst that burned Baz's lungs. He was even feeling like he could possibly drift into a peaceful sleep when suddenly a wave of energy crashed down on Baz's lungs so hard that he couldn't catch his breath. He tried to gasp for breath, body jerking roughly on the bed, and fell off the mattress, hitting the hardwood floors hard. His left hand pawed at his chest while his right hand twisted in the sheets.

He gasped again and this time the air was where it was supposed to be. His heart beat fast as he inhaled huge gulps of air and managed to shoot a glare at his stupid, sleeping roommate.

"Dammit, Snow," he muttered under his breath once he felt he could speak again. The energy was still rolling in waves so strong that the entire hall must have been awake by now, but Baz's lungs pulled it in like it was oxygen—better than. His lungs craved it, ached when the wave subsided. "Dammit, Snow," he repeated before pushing himself off the floor and taking the one step to Simon's bed.

Snow whimpered again, and for a short, brief, fleeting moment Baz actually felt bad for his obnoxious, thick headed roommate. He remembered the night terrors he'd had in the months following his mother's death. The face of the vampire who'd killed her haunted his dreams. The twisted look of pain on her face as she used the spell to save the campus. The sharp edge of the teeth that bit into him.

Snow moaned, releasing another wave of energy but this time Baz reached out and gripped the thin shoulders of the boy on the bed and the energy pulled up short as if it had hit a wall.

"Wake up, Snow," Baz said, voice loud in the quiet room. Simon's shoulders tensed under his hands and his legs started to kick at the sheets. Baz gave his shoulders a little shake. "Dammit, Snow. Wake up." The wave of heat was strong again and Baz felt woozy. He tightened his grip on Snow's shoulders and leaned closer to the boy. "Wake up, Simon," he commanded.

And honestly, he should have expected the elbow that was coming towards his nose.

Baz hit the floor with a thud, hand closed over his nose as Simon jerked up in bed and looked around nervously. Baz groaned from the ground, and Simon's head jerked down. Baz was pretty sure his nose was bleeding. He tilted his head back and checked his hand in the moonlight, but he didn't see blood. He wondered if vampires bled. He hadn't since he was a child, probably before he was turned. He'd never noticed his lack of bleeding. Honestly, he hadn't noticed a lot of things about being a vampire until Snow made it his personal vendetta to prove that Baz was one.

"Were you trying to suck my blood?" Simon asked, pulling the sheets at the bottom of the bed up around his waist.

"Yes, Snow, because I have no one better here to find whose blood I could suck," Baz responded poking at his nose. The pain had almost subsided which meant it probably wasn't broken. That was a shame. Baz thought he'd look cool with a broken nose.

"Are you admitting that you're a vampire then?" Simon asked from the bed, forehead scrunched up. Baz rolled his eyes and got to his feet. Simon had lurched for his wand at the sign of movement, and when Baz looked back at his roommate it was the end of a wooden stick that he saw.

"Sure, Snow. I'm a bloodsucker. Will you get that thing out of my face?"

"Well, if you weren't about to suck my blood then why were you standing over my bed?"

"Crowley, you're thick," Baz grumbled, leaning back on his bed, but Simon was waiting expectantly, wand still raised, although his wrist had relaxed from its stiff posture. "Why do you think? You were moaning again. About to wake up the whole school with all that energy rolling off you."

"Oh." Simon blushed, looking away. His hand slowly lowered and he let the wand fall to the bedsheets. He looked dumbly down at his lap, and Baz felt the yearning in his stomach again. Baz rolled his eyes at himself, because of course, of fucking course, the one person in his whole school that he found truly endearing happened to be his arch nemesis and stupid, impossible, tiny, scrap of a roommate.

"What?" Simon asked, irritable again, having looked up in time to see Baz's dramatic eye roll. "What was that for? You're not better than me." Baz sighed and stood up stepping to Snow's bed and pushing the smaller boy over.

"Move over. I'm getting in."

"Why?" Snow snapped, shuffling over anyway.

"So it'll be easier to suck your blood once you fall back asleep," Baz bit out. Snow glared back at him still sitting up against the headboard as Baz settled down. "Relax," Baz told him. "I just thought you might need help getting back to sleep and sometimes it's easier when there's someone else around."

"You'd still be around if you were in your bed," Snow pointed out.

"Do you want me to move?" Snow was silent, then shuffled down under the covers beside Baz.

"You don't have to do this."

"I know, Snow."

"You can sleep in your own bed."

"Uh-huh."

"I don't need someone to hold me or anything."

"Okay, Snow."

"You called me Simon."

"What?" Baz asked, turning to the freckly-faced boy beside him.

"When you woke me up, you called me Simon." He didn't look as if he was trying to bother Baz. His forehead was scrunched up again like it got when he was trying to figure out what Baz was plotting.

"No, I didn't. You're delusional. Go to sleep, Snow." Baz knew Simon didn't believe him, but with some prodding, Simon rolled over onto his side like Baz knew he liked to sleep on. Baz rolled onto his side and their bodies would almost be pressed together if Baz didn't have his arm between them, dividing them.

"You're not better than me just because you can sleep through the night," Simon huffed sleepily. Baz tried not to smile, he really did, but he turned his face into the pillow and breathed in the scent of Simon anyway.

"Sure, Snow," Baz said into the pillow.

Simon slept through the night without any more cries or energy waves, and in the early morning dawn, when the last of the moon was disappearing, Baz, wand in hand, leaned over the smaller boy, directed his wand at the target, and whispered gently, "Forgive and Forget."