He was running.
Running down a dark, narrow hall with doors on either side. The hall was never-ending and the number of doors was innumerable.
Behind him, giving chase was the Insidious Humdrum.
It's so bizarre to be chased by an independent shadow of yourself.
Simon was growing desperate. He was quickly tiring, tiring of always being scared. Of always running.
Away.
There wasn't anything he could do and he was getting frantic. He had to think of something, this was bigger than himself. The hall was divided into sections and each section belonged to a person. It stored that person's important thoughts, memories and people. They were nearing a new section, he knew because the doors up ahead were a different colour.
The maroon doors up ahead were his.
All doors were initially unlocked, but as the Humdrum was running by, he permanently locked random doors and thus killed anything behind it. Simon knew that the Humdrum was just salivating to enter the next section.
Memories were lost and people were dead.
And Simon was unraveling.
He had tried everything he could think of. He had sprinted ahead, opened a door and was thrust in the middle of the memory when Penelope had tried to teach him how to do a levator spell. He watched the two of them send paper sailing through the air, or more like he watched Penelope succeed while his younger self was slowly getting pink, his paper not moving an inch.
"I don't understand how this is so easy for you," young Simon said to Penelope while he futilely waved his wand above the paper.
"Simon, watch," Penelope snatched a piece of paper and swirled her wand above it and said, "Be light, go fly." The paper gently rose as if Penelope was talking to the paper itself. Penelope dropped her wand to her side and the paper fluttered down. "Okay, you try now Simon."
Simon took a deep breath and positioned himself right above the paper. He raised his wand, tried to copy Penelope's moves exactly and said the spell. The paper rose with considerable speed and plastered on Simon's face. Penelope let out a snort of laughter.
"Oh Siiiiiimon," the Humdrum said in a sing-songy voice. The present tense Simon tensed at the nearness of the Humdrum's voice.
"Which memory did you find? Was it the one of the Mage coming to tell you that you're a wizard and that you belong somewhere?" The Humdrum laughed. "It doesn't really matter, I'll get them all."
Geez, he sounds like some evil Pokémon fan.
Simon mentally scolded himself for wasting time. He had to do something. He tried to capture the memory but it didn't work. He tried to put up a wall between the door and the memory but once again, it was useless. The spells he used shimmered in the air and vanished.
The Humdrum must have cast an immunity spell. What now?
As if reading his thoughts, the Humdrum's voice came drifting through the door, closer than before. "You know you can't do anything. You never were able to do anything. They mold you into this hero in their minds but we both know the truth, don't we?"
The voice got closer and Simon could make out the slight clump of each footstep bouncing off the walls. He froze, urging himself to think of something but resigning himself to the inevitable.
"Truth is you're weak and scared and pure luck is the only thing that has extended your life."
The voice was right outside the door.
"Well luck can only go so far.
The Humdrum stepped into the door, effectively blocking the doorway.
"It ends tonight," said the Humdrum as he slowly walked towards Simon, his hands in his pocket, the vision of ease. "You end tonight. Without any memories left you'll just be a blabbering fool." The Humdrum shrugged. "It won't really matter I guess because everyone you've ever known and loved is behind one of these doors." The Humdrum snapped his fingers.
"Gone"
"How are you doing this," Simon breathed out in a question.
The Humdrum smirked. "Now you see that was the convenient part. This place," he threw up his hands to encompass the space, "it stores a person's soul, their essence. It was actually a little too easy. Takes away the thrill of the hunt; that heady surge of adrenaline that you get when grappling with your soon to be hostage. I have a piece of each treasured person from your memories and I didn't even need to break a sweat. You see, if I kill their spirit then there's nothing left inside them. They will just be empty shells. Ahhhh," he sighed, "I can just imagine the newfound peace. They were quite annoying, always trying to save the world and what have you."
Dread throbbed through him. He felt as if he couldn't breathe but at the same time his head was so dizzy it felt like he was hyperventilating.
Oh God, all those people. The Mage, the father he never knew. Penelope, the know-it-all sister he never had the chance to have. Baz, the ...oh Baz.
His eyes stung and his throat felt heavy, but there was no way in hell he was going to start bawling in front of the Humdrum.
He knew what he had to do.
The realization came accompanied by a sense of peace and courage. The peace fought with his lungs, trying to slow his breathing to something manageable. The courage weakened the panic that was pulsing throughout.
"I won't let you do this." Simon's voice rang out strong. Stronger than he anticipated.
The Humdrum laughed harshly. "Last time I checked, your spells aren't worth a damn in here.
"Oh come off it," Simon snapped. "It's always been you and me. Your war is with me, not with my friends. So here I am," Simon spread his arms out wide, "unprotected and alone. Haven't you salivated over this image?" Simon's heart was sprinting but his voice bellied nothing.
The Humdrum looked at Simon pensively. "You know, being a martyr doesn't become you." He studied his fingernails. "Plus it wouldn't work," he added as an afterthought.
Simon stood there in disbelief. "How does this not work? I'm dead, you're happy, end of story. It's not that complicated."
I can't believe I'm urging him on. Maybe Baz was right; I do get cheeky when I'm frustrated.
The Humdrum sighed.
"You might have grown in height these past few years but your brain surely hasn't. What satisfaction could I possibly get from killing you fast? Haven't you come to know me even a little these past few years?"
The Humdrum shook his head in mock disappointment.
"No, what I had in mind is a little more exciting. First I tie your body to mine so you see everything I do. Next we go on a little stroll down memory lane and ring a couple doorbells, see who's home."
The Humdrum laughed as he watched Simon raise his wand.
"What are you going to do, poke me in the eye with it? No spell of yours will work. Mine on the other hand..." He raised his wand and drew a figure eight in the air while saying, "Twisty-tie body to mine."
Simon felt the invisible connection between the Humdrum and him form. It was like an invisible rope tied the two of them together. If the Humdrum took a step, an unseen force would pull Simon in the same direction.
"Little kinky when you really think about it, though it has considerable more class than handcuffs. Step one, done," he ticked of an invisible checklist. "Now for the fun part."
The Humdrum turned towards the door. "Care to follow me, Simon?" The Humdrum laughed at his own joke.
Simon dug his heels in and tried to fight the pull but the force was stronger. He stumbled after the Humdrum.
"Do try and keep up," the Humdrum said over his shoulder. The Humdrum slowed down before each door, as if he could feel whatever was behind each door.
Maybe he can...Or maybe he's just taunting me.
"Let's start off easy, shall we," the Humdrum asked as he stopped in front of a door. He opened the door. In the room was Penelope's cat chasing a mouse in the shadows.
"Such a moody cat, isn't he? He had his moments though. Like the time he helped you and Baz get rid of the extra birds in your dormitory when your duplication spell went wrong. Oh I know everything you do," the Humdrum answered in response to Simon's furrowed brow.
Penelope loves that cat.
At the same time, a tiny recess of his brain whispered that she might not even have enough time to notice the absence.
Before Simon could contemplate his next move he felt a surge of power in the tether that connected him to the Humdrum. The Humdrum lifted his wand and with a savage zig-zagging motion the room turned black. There was a moment's pause before a painful howling filled the silence. It dragged on and on and it sounded as if the cat was being slowly tortured. It raised the hairs on the back of Simon's neck. He had never heard such a distressed yowl.
The Humdrum closed the door and the howling was cut off. He turned to Simon and it seemed like he was almost pleased at the reaction his antics had elicited.
"It takes longer to kill a person's spirit. A soul puts up more of a fight and clings longer to life than flesh and bone."
Simon's insides started to quaver. Saints. He's going to torture them all.
The Humdrum turned and started walking down the corridor again, with Simon in tow. "Time to raise the stakes a little, wouldn't you say," he called back to Simon. He kept eagerly walking past the doors, like a man strolling in the market hunting for the freshest fruit and the best bargain. A man on a mission. After almost half of minute he stopped abruptly and back-tracked a few doors. The look on his face said it all to Simon. He had found his fruit.
The Humdrum regarded the door with barely contained glee and almost a bit of awe. "Fortune winked down at me today, Simon," the Humdrum said as he opened the door.
It was Agatha sitting in the common lounge. The last rays of dusk were just peeking through the windows as she sat at the table doing her homework.
No. Sweet and kind Agatha. She doesn't deserve this. No one does but there's something innocent about Agatha, something that demands protection.
It was then that Simon saw what had gotten the Humdrum so excited.
A figured emerged from behind the bookshelf carrying a thick text and headed towards the table. Simon's stomach sank.
Agatha looked up at the approaching figure and smiled, "Oh good, you found it. I was scared I was going to be stuck on this page all night. Thanks, Peny."
Penelope placed the book in front of Agatha and sat down beside her, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear at the same time.
"It's about the equivalence of finding a four leaf clover in the mundane world," the Humdrum said from beside Simon.
If Penelope were here she'd probably know what to do. She wouldn't be standing here feeling like a helpless idiot. Oh Peny, I could really use your help now...
Simon turned to the Humdrum, the panic was close to boiling over. Pride be damned. "No, please. They never did anything to you. Please."
The Humdrum's eyes were ablaze with pleasure. "Maybe not directly but their faith was just so annoying. 'Oh Simon, you are strong enough' and 'your heart is good Simon and good always wins,'" the Humdrum said the last line in a girlishly high voice.
Simon felt a sharp increase in power and he knew what was coming. The panic uncontrollably boiled over and sizzled and hissed as it poured down the sides. Burned.
Simon screamed something unintelligible. The Humdrum brought his wand down.
Darkness blanketed the room. It offered a brief reprieve before the terrified screaming and moaning began. The screams spoke of horrors unimaginable. Simon had tears pouring down his cheeks and his mouth was open in silent anguish. The screams echoed in his head and with each new one he felt as if a part of him was being ripped away.
"Peny," Agatha whimpered hoarsely. Her whimpering faded away.
Simon could hear Penelope's ragged moans.
He would have given anything to make them stop, to erase her pain. He would have traded anything. Would have switched places with her in a heartbeat.
Simon fell to his knees and held onto the doorframe to keep him up. In his desperation he tried to reach into the darkness of the room but a barrier prevented that. He knelt there, sobbing out to the friend he lost and the one who refused to let go. He didn't want to lose Penelope but he couldn't bear to hear her suffering.
"This is so much more entertaining than killing you. This way I get to watch you slowly die over and over and over again. We have quite a few more doors to go," the Humdrum said in a taunting voice.
Penelope moaned again and Simon could hear her try and start a prayer.
He wasn't sure how long he could weakly clutch to his sanity.
The moans grew few and far between and then they stopped.
"No," Simon cried through his sobs, his shoulders shaking.
There's no coming back from this.
"Okay, that's enough of door number two. Time to move on," the Humdrum said as he turned away.
Simon touched the barrier and whispered, "Love you always, my shiny Peny. Join the angels in heaven, Agatha." He sniffled and didn't even try to wipe at the tears. He resisted the pull of the link as long as he could before it pulled Simon to his feet and dragged him along after the Humdrum.
The fight had left Simon. He felt as if someone had cut him open and took out all his insides.
Hollow.
He wasn't sure how he was still alive. Or why. Why did his stubbornly persistent shattered heart keep beating, supplying him with a fresh wave of pain every time it beat?
The Humdrum passed door after door, seemingly unsatisfied until he slowed and paused at one.
He looked back at Simon and Simon knew.
Knew because of the unveiled hunger in the Humdrum's eyes.
Knew because of the way his heart stumbled, fumbled and then fell.
The door opened but he didn't need to look.
He already knew.
Nevertheless, his eyes raised and looked through the door, begging to be proven wrong.
It was all in vain because it was Baz sitting at his desk staring mindlessly out the window. He was eating a mint aero bar.
Probably one of mine.
His black hair was wet and he was dressed in a plain t-shirt and the pajama pants that Simon always teased him about. They were purple and had yellow ducks all over them. Baz claimed that they were the most comfortable pair he owned but Simon suspected that Baz just enjoyed the friendly bantering that the pants always induced.
The desperation washed over Simon and it filled every cell, every pore. He knew he should be trying to gather himself, to make a plan to put an end to this but he found he couldn't think.
So many things left unsaid. Why didn't I tell him? I pretty much lived with the guy and yet I still didn't tell him. Why didn't I tell him?
Simon clung desperately to the doorframe. Wasn't sure he was sobbing until he was. He didn't notice he had placed a hand on the barrier. He just wanted to reach through and touch Baz. To smooth away the slight frown that had formed as Baz sat there thinking. To tuck away the damp hair that had fallen in his face. To protect him. To shield him from the roommate that will get him killed, because isn't it Simon's fault in the end?
Oh gods, this is it. This is how it ends. This is how he wins.
Even as Simon was thinking he could feel the spark of magic that betrayed what was to come.
The Humdrum started lifting his wand, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. "It's been a pleasure, Simon."
Simon didn't think, he just reacted. All he could see was the wand rising higher and higher, decreasing the millimeters that measured the rest of Baz's life. In desperation he pushed himself off the barrier and straight at the Humdrum. A look of surprise crossed the Humdrum's face just as Simon crashed into him and brought both of them tumbling to the ground. Simon could hear the Humdrum calling his name, but it was off a little. Simon brought an arm up to slug the Humdrum, or at least he tried to, but found he couldn't.
Someone called his name again, more insistently this time. The Humdrum, the doorway and the entire room started shifting out of existence and when Simon opened his eyes again he was in his own room. Baz's face hovered above his own, the concern ripening in Baz's eyes. When Simon glanced down he noticed that Baz was sitting on the edge of his bead and was pinning Simon's wrist to the bed.
"It was a nightmare. You're okay. Everything's okay, Simon," Baz tried to reassure in a whisper. He let go of Simon's wrist and brought his hand up to brush the hair that was sticking to Simon's sweaty forehead. With his thumb he swiped away the tears from Simon's cheek.
It was the gentleness that was Simon's undoing. His lip started to quiver and Simon bit it to hold back the onslaught of emotions. His heart was hammering so hard he was surprised that it didn't spring loose from his rib cage and jump around on the bed. It didn't matter how hard he breathed, there was just not enough air. He felt like he was shaking from the inside out. Like everything inside him was rattling around from the force of his pulse. Baz's forehead creased in worry as he took in Simon's state.
Simon started to panic.
I can't breathe. Stars, I need air.
The room started to swim in Simon's vision as the dizziness set in. Simon hauled himself up into a sitting position and brought his knees up, sticking his face between them.
"You're okay, I promise you. You need to slow your breathing, love," Baz murmured softly as he rubbed slow, calming circles on Simon's back. "We'll breathe together. Big breath in," Baz took a large inhale as Simon shaking struggled to do so, "good, and now exhale slowly." Baz exhaled gradually while Simon exhaled in a huff, like someone had punched him in the gut. Gradually, Simon's breathing evened out, his heart slowed to a canter and the dizziness faded. Simon leaned against Baz's side, spent. He rested his face in the curve of Baz's neck and inhaled Baz's scent, trying to reassure himself. Baz wrapped an arm around Simon, pulling him closer and rested his cheek on Simon's hair.
They stayed like that for a while.
"Do you want to talk about it," Baz whispered after some time. Simon could feel Baz's question stir his hair.
"No."
"Not tonight," Simon amended after a pause. He didn't want Baz to think that he couldn't confide in him.
For now he just wanted to relish in the security that Baz was giving him. He was so tired of having to be strong all the time. The person who is expected to save the entire magical race isn't supposed to show weakness or hesitation. Simon was just weary from having to support everyone's hopes.
Baz started to straighten up and gently shifted Simon's weight off of him. Simon wanted to cry out at the loss.
Just a few minutes, a few minutes before I have to pull myself together again, that's all I wanted.
Baz pushed Simon's shoulders until he was once again lying down. Satisfied, Baz left the room.
Well, that's that, Simon thought as he turned over on his side, facing away from the door. The slight aftershocks trembled through him and he brought his knees up to his chest, hugging himself.
Simon heard the water turn on in the bathroom down the hall. Turn off. Baz's soft footfalls came back into the room and Simon heard them stop behind him. Baz shifted and something that sounded like glass made a hushed clunk as it was placed on his wooden bedside table.
Simon didn't turn around but he knew that Baz was still behind him.
What is he doing? Maybe he thinks I fell back asleep. Probably glad that he doesn't need to pacify his blubbering idiot of a roommate.
The embarrassment at his overreaction to a dream was starting to set in. He could already feel his ears turning warm and he knew that Baz, with his uncanny eye, would see the blush turning his ears pink.
Instead of the retreating footsteps that Simon awaited, he felt the covers flutter slightly as they were being tugged. He could feel a weight settle on the mattress causing a slight dip behind him.
Did Baz just get into my bed?!
Simon couldn't believe it and didn't until he felt Baz slide himself closer. Baz reached an arm around Simon's middle and pulled him closer so they were chest to back, thigh to hamstring. Baz curled his body around Simon and held on.
The warmth from Baz's body slowly wrapped around Simon and succeeded in pushing the shivers away.
So this is what this feels like.
Simon didn't remember someone ever having snuggled with him. Maybe when he was young, but the orphanage definitely didn't encourage cuddling.
Simon closed his eyes. "No one's ever done this to me before," Simon found himself admitting to the darkness of the room, the embarrassment of such a cheesy admission already sinking in.
Baz's arm tightened slightly around his middle before it slowly relaxed.
"If it were up to me," Baz whispered into Simon's hair, "I'd never let you go."
Simon's heart melted at that confession. His heart melted for Baz, who knew exactly what he needed even when he didn't know himself. He relaxed, and after what happened tonight, he couldn't believe that his eyes were getting heavy. By its own will, his breathing started to slow.
Baz readjusted a bit. "Go to sleep, love. Nightmares won't find you tonight," he mumbled half asleep.
Their breaths naturally synched together, rib cages expanding and retracting at the same time. Before sleep made his brain too foggy, Simon placed his arm over the arm Baz had draped across him and entwined their fingers.
They drifted off, their fingers and limbs still entangled.