A/N: Hey guys so I'm kind of in a bad place right now, hence why my updates on both here and YouTube have slowed down, so I'm sorry. My best friend in the whole world just told me he's thinking about suicide, that he'd already be dead if it wasn't for me and I just broke down last night. Everything is just getting to be too much, friends shutting me out and making me feel pretty bad about myself, to struggling with work at school and out of it right down to problems at home.

It's getting me down a lot, and I just wanted to tell you guys that I love you all, each and every one of you- even if you are a cannibal or something- and to remind you of something one of my friends said that's really helped me.

It's a bad day, not a bad life.

So read, review, enjoy, fangirl. And here's to the good days. My new SnowBaz fic people, and be ready for tears.

Simon POV

To say Simon felt terrible would be the understatement of the century. In the whole of the apartment he had shared with Baz, he had spent most of the past week in the bathroom. They were lucky, Baz's parents had died when he was quite young, leaving all they had to Baz and his two sisters, but it was more than enough for them to live more than comfortably. Baz liked to work as a writer in his spare time, writing snarky characters and books about magic, wizards and vampires. It went hand in hand with Simon's love of making short films and taking photos, as Simon was very good at posting fanart of Baz's works on tumblr. They had never been better. Baz also played the piano astoundingly well, and it played well off of Simon's talent on the guitar and- as Baz told him- his talent with his own voice.

Baz had wanted to push Simon into becoming a singer one day, even despite Baz's snarky comments about it, but Simon wouldn't let him do it. He didn't like a crowd and certainly didn't want one, especially for something he was sure he was awful at.

So then came the compromise.

A YouTube channel, named, TheMage'sHeir where Simon posted short films he had made, covers, and just typical vlogs. It was pretty popular, 600,000 subscribers or so, and it made Simon immensely happy. He felt like it was somewhere he could be himself.

But, not this past week. He couldn't leave the bathroom. Baz had a meeting with a publisher in California, and had headed there for the week, leaving Simon to suffer through whatever he had alone. He would constantly be vomiting for quite a lot of the week, and would be so breathless by the end of it that he couldn't move.

It wasn't that he couldn't breathe, it was the fact that he felt like he couldn't. The idea that you weren't getting air was a lot more scary than actually not getting any. By the end of the week, Simon was more than glad that Baz was coming home. He had barely eaten, and more importantly, he really just needed Baz. Inexplicably just needed him, but then, he guessed, didn't everyone need loved ones when they were sick?

Simon had been asleep when Baz came home. He was awoken for the first time in a week, nicely, with Baz pressing a kiss to his forehead. Simon awoke slowly, looking at where the ceiling would have been if Baz's head wasn't in the way that is.

"Hello Snow." Said Baz, grinning. Simon grinned back, and Baz all but fell into bed, stretching out, clearly stiff from the plane ride and then the taxi ride afterwards, Baz had naturally long limbs anyway. Well... Simon thought Baz took something when he was a little younger, but that was beside the point.

"Hey Baz." Replied Simon, yawning, and then wincing as his shoulder and chest groaned in protest.

Baz noticed and frowned. Why was he so damn observant?

"Are you alright?" He asked. Simon hesitated, but then his stomach answered for him, and he ran to the bathroom, where here was a nasty development. Instead of throwing up the usual bile or food that rose up out of his throat, there was blood in the sink (the closest point to get to).

Baz waited patiently until he was done, not looking at all fazed.

"I'll take that as a no then." Simon just groaned in response, wiping his face with the towel Baz had just handed to him, leaning against the wall.

"By Crowley." Baz sighed, using a phrase from one of his books. "How long have you been like this?"

"Pretty much since you left." Simon answered honestly. Baz ran a hand through his hair.

"Do you still feel bad?" Baz asked, turning all soft spoken and sweet, running his hands through Simon's hair slowly.

"I'm fine." Simon whispered, but he felt his breath getting short again, and feeling himself getting light-headed. He was starting to list sideways unknowingly.

"Simon Snow!" Baz shouted, slapping him lightly in the face to wake him up.

"Hm...?"

"Come on, hospital, now." Baz demanded, and when Simon wouldn't move, Simon heard him starting to panic, the worry coming off of him in waves. After a few minutes passed of Simo still not getting up, calling and ambulance before picking Simon up and running out the door.

Then Simon went out like a light, the air in his lungs running out.

Finally the darkness swallowed him.

A/N: Hi guys, I hope you're all alright, and if you're not I'm free to talk any time. Love you all.