A/N I did not create these characters, nor this world, though I wish L had the talent to have done so. This does take inspiration from so many fanfics, they do shine through a bit.
"Guilty."
The word rattles through me, sealing my fate. I knew it was coming, of course I did.
"We, the jury, find this Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch guilty of knowledgeably attempting to Turn one Simon Snow on the night of the 31st of July 2017. We also recommend, within our powers to do so, that the defendant receive the maximum possible penalty for this grievous crime."
My heart sinks to my feet, and, unable to watch the disapproving faces of my family and friends any longer, I turn my face downwards. A tear runs down my nose, dripping onto a sun motif on the scarlet carpet, followed swiftly by many more. I grieve not for my fate, but for my lost love, my one true love, my soulmate, whom I have unwittingly killed.
All other faces in the room turn towards the judge, her face clearly displaying her mixed emotions as she faces this impossible decision. "Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, you have been found guilty by a jury of your peers, who have also recommended that the maximum punishment possible be awarded. However, you have, and continue to show deep remorse. As such, I sentence you to execution, by the means of your own choice, at sundown tomorrow. Is this clear and understood?"
I look up, my voice crumbling in my throat, "Yes, your honour. If I may, I wish to choose my means now. I wish to be executed by fire. It was my mother's fire that brought me into this world, and it will be another's that carries me out. May I also be taken at sunup, when I am at my weakest, and fire its strongest?"
I hear Dev muttering something about grandiosity from the back of the spectators' box. I do not care. I will finally be reunited with my love, my Chosen One, my Simon.
"That seems to be in order. Do you wish for anything else?"
"No, your honour."
"Then you may return to your cell."
Two burly guards, that I vaguely remember from my first years at Watford, escort me from the room, shoving me through the labyrinth of under-floor corridors. My mind, ever active, wanders…
I gaze about, vaguely self-conscious of my height, feeling at home, but alone. I know this place, have always known this place, know the teachers, but the kids are loud, so loud. We first-years swarm around the bonfire, staring at the Magickal Artefact heating in the middle. Slowly, first one, then another, people move. They fund their roommates for the next eight years, shake hands, make small talk. The magick of the Crucible draws them together, binds them together. I wait patiently, I know that it will work on me- it's worked on my whole family.
As the stragglers feel the magick begin to work upon them and move, a butterfly begins to flap in lazy circles around my stomach. As though summoned by the butterfly, a hook begins to tug at my intestines, dragging me clockwise around the fire. I follow it for a couple of steps, but then stop, allowing my roommate to come to me. Eventually, the crowd instinctively parts around a boy with tawny-brown hair and a scattering of moles. He is the cutest, and most Normal, boy I've ever set eyes on. He walks straight towards me, and I can feel the power emanating from him at twenty-paces.
I pull his name out of nowhere. "Simon Snow, the Mage's Heir."
"Yup, here." He replies, furiously waving his hand at me- the magic only stops when you shake hands. I observe him, a thin veneer of iciness over my roiling emotions. Eventually, I take his hand, my eyes composed into those of a bored looking snob.
The rest of the day flies by, our room assignment is the best in the school (as it should be for the former headmistress's son), but the furthest from the classrooms. Snow falls asleep before his head hits the pillow, but I stay wide awake as the moonlight pours in through the open window, staring at the ever-shifting planes of his face. His close-cropped hair practically glows, and when I finally fall asleep, his peaceful, sleeping face is seared across my eyelids. It's been there ever since.
"Oi, you, wake up!" The guards shove me forward into a plain white room with a white-sheeted bed, sink, mirror and toilet.
"See you in the morning." The other sneers.
I'm fine with it, I like being alone with my thoughts, almost as much as I liked to be alone with Simon. I sit on the bed and stare at the palms of my hands. My mind drifts back along my timeline with Simon, settling back when we first worked together, when we first kissed amidst the flames, when he was so alive and so full of Magick. My mind returns to eighteen…
I pull over to the side of the road, tears streaming down my face. I climb out, walk into the woods. A flame sparks between my fingers, weaving between them for an instant before settling in my palm and growing to the size of an apple. It falls from my palm and lands amongst the damp leaf-litter. Another flame fills my palm and falls from it as I walk around a small clearing. And another, and another.
Soon, there is a ring of fire separating me from the world and everyone in it. Almost everyone; I hadn't realised Snow had entered the clearing. I still don't, until he in front of me, until his lips are almost on mine. I choke out "Tyg-", and then our lips collide. He clamps his lips onto mine, sealing any sound within them. He does this wonderful thing with his jaw, and I stop mimicking him, I let him go. His cross rattles against my throat, so I tear it off of him. Eventually, I realise that the flames are closing in, that it is getting unbearably hot. I brace myself, then I pull away and push him off me.
"Make a wish." I try, but only the embers nearest me go out. "Make a wish. Make a wish. Make a wish!"
Snow puts his hand on my back, pouring that raw, unending power into me. "Make a wish," I say again, and this time the fires wink out as one. My enhanced eyes adjust easily and I head back to the car, but Snow blindly blunders and trips behind me.
I turn, call out to him "Hey, Snow. It's this way." He comes to my voice and I lead him carefully out.
We arrive back at the car, but I am so Thirsty my fangs are popping. Noticeably. "I've got to hunt," I tell Snow.
"Isn't there a spell for that?"
"Only at close range." He puts his hand on my arm and once again I fill with that extraordinary power. This must be what it is like to be alive, truly alive.
"Try now." He says, so I do.
A minute later, a young doe steps nimbly out through the trees. I walk towards it, even as it walks towards me. I place my hand on her head to lead her back into the shadows. A spark of pain shoots through it, and I draw my hand back, revealing a cross shaped burn. A cross, though faded and warped, that is still there today.
I jump up as the door creaks open. Penny rushes in, leaving the shadows of the guards on either side of the door. Penny- my one remaining ally, my one remaining friend.
"Baz, oh Baz. I am so, so sorry," she says, bursting into tears.
"Penny, it's fine, I don't mind. Penny, look at me, I don't mind. Penny, honestly, I do not mind. I- I'll get to see Simon again. And Penny, I deserve it, I deserve all of this. I've been living on borrowed time since I was four, doubly so since Simon. He kept me anchored to this world, and he's drawing me to the next."
"But Baz, how can you say that? Don't you realise that you are leaving your family? You're leaving me! Why are you so- so resigned to your fate? We can fight this!"
"Penny, listen to me, to what I'm saying. I don't want to fight this, it's been coming for so long, and I know that it is time. I know that you'll be fine, you've got Micah and your wonderful daughters. My parents, my whole family gave up on me years ago. Penny, I should have been set alight when I was Turned. Can't you see that I've been living a life that isn't mine? Can't you see that I'm not human, that I am- am so much less?"
"But, but you can't leave me. First Simon, and now you. I'll only have Micah and the girls. You know I don't have many friends, you know that I have no one left!"
"Penny," I start, but she's past reasoning. There's nothing more I can do, so I just pull her close. Doing so, I realise that this may be my last true physical contact with someone I know. A tear rolls down my face, and I lay my head atop hers, staring at the bed…
"Are you sure that you are ready for this Simon?" I say, "You really don't have to."
"No, no, I want to." I lean and kiss him long hard and deep, warming us both up.
"Just before I do…" I start, pulling out a small, dark velvet box. Snow sees it, his jaw dropping.
"Oh my God Baz, yes, yes, I do."
"Come on Snow, let me actually say it! I've been working up to it for months. Simon Snow- actually, what is your middle name? I've always imagined it as Elizabeth. I don't know why."
"What, really Baz, no. Who are you kidding? I don't have a middle name," He laughs, the sound sending shivers down my spine.
"Ok. I guess I have enough names for the both of us- who gives their child the names 'Tyrannus Basilton'? Simon Snow, I will love you until the sun dies and the Earth turns to dust- will you marry me?"
"Yes, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, I think I will." He says, trying to match my posh accent.
"Quit it, Snow, you know you'll never get the accent right," I say, reaching out to tickle him.
"Stop it, stop it, stop it, this isn't fair," he wheezes.
"Well, aren't you going to open it?" Snow carefully opens the box, gasping at what he sees inside. It has an obsidian-like band, set with a fiery orange stone that glows ever so slightly. "So that you'll never forget our first kiss." I hold up my own hand, where I've just slipped on a matching but reversed ring.
Seeing mine, he says, "No fair, you always get the masculine stuff"
"Quit complaining, Snow, you know I'm nowhere near as pretty as you."
I shut him up with my lips, covering his whole mouth with mine. He relaxes into it and our bodies and instinct take over. Afterwards, I gaze down at our entwined hands, where our new rings lie glinting. Where the same ring still lies, tarnished and dull.
"Oi, you girl, time's up," Penelope raises her head from my shoulder, eyes shining with decades worth of loss.
"W-well, I g-guess this i-is g-g-good b-b," she stops mid-word, choked up at sobbing uncontrollably.
"Get yourself together Bunce," I sneer, reliving my past days as a bully, "Second to top of the class and can't even say goodbye!"
She glares at me through watery eyes, "Back then, I would never have imagined that saying goodbye to you would ever be this hard. Goodbye, Baz, you have been a good friend." Her voice does not quiver until the very end, but it still conveys an air of finality.
"Goodbye, Bunce. Have a good life. Gi-give my love to the girls, would you?" my tone weakens, betraying me, as yet another tear runs from the corner of my eye.
She just nods, unable to speak, and turns to the guard looming in the doorway. He escorts her out, not even glancing in my direction. I use the toilet, washing my hands thoroughly before staring at my bloodshot reflection. Gone are the hard, calculating looks, the carefully tended hair, the flawless alabaster skin. I look old, old and tired. My skin is now wrinkled and spotted, mottled grey and pink, my eyes, once a never-ending ocean, now clouded and ashen. Even my hair looks old, the jet-black hair fading to ash. The last time I looked this intently into a mirror, assessing every angle, I was young, happy and alive as I had ever been…
I stare intently at my reflection, carefully manipulating the pitch strands of hair into the perfect shape. My eyes drift down to the perfectly pressed suit, the perfectly tied tie, the perfectly polished shoes. This is my perfect day, my happy day, my wedding day.
I look back at the mirror; I look perfect, but I don't feel it. Why? Why can't I be happy for this one day?
"You all right Baz?" Snow calls to me from the living room, "We've got to leave soon. Hey, you look wonderful! What's that expression for? There's only the ceremony and then nobody will bother us for a week. Come on now, you're okay."
"I, I guess," He pulls me into a quick kiss.
We sit in the car in near silence, both of us full of nerves. I glance at him, then back at the road. We're not going back now, we don't want to. We pull up, the Club's doors open, people scattered about the perfectly manicured lawn. Snow climbs out of the car, I follow a moment later.
"Do you, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, take this Simon Snow to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part?"
"I, I do."
"And do you, Simon Snow, take this Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do."
"Then you may kiss the groom."
Snow pulls me into him, reaching up, just as I reach down to him. Our lips brush a second before they truly meet, and in that instant, I know that it's going to be okay. As our lips meet for the second time our bodies collide, and it is the best kiss that we have ever had. The crowd of family and friends behind us cheer. We break apart, blissfully unaware if a second has passed or a century, and turn to face our guests. A sea of our friends stares back at us, good friends like Penelope and Dev, and just okay ones, like our neighbours. We beam at them, and they beam at us, and life is good.
But life's not good now. I look at the stark, blinding white. The realisation that this is going to be the last place I sleep, eat and use the toilet. Ever.
Sitting on the bed, my head in my hands, I look back over the days that directly brought me here. I allow myself to break down the barrier that I built, tearing it down brick by brick. I allow myself to remember, to reminisce, to wonder, to what-if. This day has come to an end, and my time on this Earth has almost come to an end. My time is a good length, the right length. But not Simon, he was taken far, far too early. He had so much life, and energy, but it was not enough. It was never quite enough.
Snow shakes me awake, his golden hair glowing in the moonlight. His eyes are wide, pupils dilated so that you can barely see his forget-me-not blue eyes. "Baz, Baz, wake up. Come on, wake up!"
"I'm awake. I'm awake, stop shoving me about," I groan, "Christ, Snow, it's 3 am! Why are you awake?"
"I'm scared, Baz. I, I think it's back, and it's coming for me."
"What is?" I ask, but I already know- the Insidious Humdrum, Snow's mortal enemy, who was created by his voracious appetite for magick.
"The Humdrum, Baz, I can feel the Humdrum."
"Snow- Simon. You're imagining it. I can't feel anything."
"You wouldn't. It's not you that he's after. He doesn't want magick this time, he wants me. Baz- he wants my life. And Baz, I need to give my life to him, I need to sacrifice myself. I, I think that this is going to fix the dead spots."
"No. You can't sacrifice yourself to it, people need you, Snow. I need you!"
"But this will help so many more people."
"What about me, Snow, will it help me?" I plead.
"I've got to do it Baz. It's my last sacrifice."
"You've already sacrificed so much. You gave up your magick for this. It's time to let someone else be the hero."
"But nobody else can be! That's the point. Nobody else can save me now."
"You don't need to do this Snow."
"But I do. I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees. I would have thought that you, of all people, would have understood that."
I have no answer to that, I do understand. He's gotten up and dressed and is heading out.
"Goodbye, Baz."
"Snow, no, Snow, come back." He's either doesn't hear me or doesn't care, for he doesn't return. I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, pushing my feet into a pair of shoes as I race out the door. As I do, I see Snow reach out to a ghostly version of his twelve-year-old self. They lock hands, rising slightly into the air. The spectre fades slightly as Snow relaxes.
"Simon. No. Let go, let go!" I call, my voice sounding weak.
He doesn't hear me, but he sinks slowly back towards the dew-covered ground. I run over, ready to catch him. He looks so peaceful, but he is so quiet and still as he crumples to the ground. His ankles give way, then his knees, his back, his neck.
He lays upon the ground, all the life vanished, all that noise, that energy gone. His chest barely rises, his slight breath clouding the frosty air. His golden skin is so pale now, his scattering of moles so dark. His eyes, half open, see little. I dash the final metre towards my fallen love, finding his pulse weakening. I do the only thing I can to save him-
I bite.
He gasps as the pain fills him, turning blood to fire. I know that pain, remember it better than my mother's face. "Baz, why? My time has come. I needed to, to do this. My task is… complete… I… am… done."
"Snow, no, why? No Snow, please no!"
"You… called… me… Simon."
His final words sigh out of him, his chest stops mid-rise, his weakened pulse stops. "No, Simon. Please. Please don't be gone," I wail, grief filling my every pore. I stay there through the night, his head in my lap, stroking his gorgeous hair. As the sun rises, I know my time is up, my days too short. I rock back on my haunches, waiting for them to come, to take me away, just as I do now.
The time flows by, an age in a second, but a single minute in an hour. I lose myself in the past, our first house, our last, my mother, my family, my friends. I am ready when they finally come.
"Time's up man, time to face the music."
It sounds oddly cheerful to my morose ears. They escort me back through the maze of tunnels, through the court house, into a sterile white room. The stink of bleach overwhelms me, and I cough.
"Any last wishes?" the other guard asks.
"Actually, yes. Can I go outside one last time? Can I be outside when you, at the end?"
"Well, I mean, we would, but there are quite a few people, crowds of people really, and they, well, they aren't very happy with you."
"I don't mind. As he," I say, jabbing my finger at the other, "said, it's time to face the music. What's the worst they can do? I am already going to die today."
"As you wish, but don't say I didn't warn you."
We head out, and the guard was right, there are crowds. Many of them are sporting rather offensive signs. I scan the faces for Penny, already knowing that she won't be there. I face the hastily scrambled executioner at the end of the path. Their ceremonial black hood reveals nothing of their face, but I can tell, from their stance, that they want out.
I stride towards them, my only thoughts of making it easier for them. I don't have to live with it, but they do. It is never easy to take a life, to see the light leave their eyes, and I can only imagine what it must be to take that of a human.
"Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. Your time has come. Have you any last words?"
"I, I'm, I will, I am about to see my love again, it is not the end, for me, but the beginning."
They raise a black wand, black robes billowing in the slight breeze. Just as the first golden light hints above the rooftops, they inhale deeply. I stiffen, this is it.
"Hell, hath no fury!"
The fire blooms at the end of the wand, a jewel, the miniature of the one just now rising through the early morning sky. It grows as it crosses the small gap between us, from a freckle to a mole, a pupil, an iris. I see snow reflected in it, his perfect laugh, his sweeping curls.
It tickles as it hits me, turns to a puppy licking at my back, Simon scratching at my neck. I enjoy the finality of it, my final sensations ablaze. They always say that as you pass from this world, your life flashes before your eyes. They are wrong, for my life does not flash before my eyes; Snow's does. In an instant, he grows from a weedy, underfed boy to a scrawny teen, a strong young man, the balding middle-aged father he never was, the wrinkled, hunched old grandfather. And he is so, so beautiful.
My senses switch back to reality, to now. As I light up, a firework in the twilight, my ears fill with crackling bonfires, my nose a cosy campfire, I taste toasted marshmallows, my skin plays tricks on me. Hot and cold, pins and needles, there and not. I close my eyes, sucking air in through my nose, feeling myself begin to crumble, to turn to ash. The world goes black, the sound dies, my nose smells no more. All I hear is-
"Baz?"
A/N Please leave a review/comment- I love them!