Chapter 4

SIMON

I stare out the window as Baz steers our car into the long gravel driveway. He pulls up in front of the old stables that have been converted to a garage, the gravel squelching beneath the tires as he comes to a stop.

We've been coming to Oxford for years, ever since he told his parents about us just after everything happened, and it's like our second home now. Sometimes we only come for dinner and so Baz can hunt, but often we stay over. I like spending time with his step-mum and sisters and brother. They're kind of like the family I never had. And I like sitting outside on the big lawn and playing Pitch football or having a kick with Mordy or sitting in the shade, drawing with Baz by my side, his head in a book or six. And I like flying over the estate too.

I drag my head away from the window where it's been resting during the hour long drive and I turn to face him. "We have to tell your parents."

He switches off the engine and turns to look at me, giving me a guarded smile. "I've been thinking about that too."

"Better they find out from us than anyone else, yeah?" I offer.

Merlin I'm nervous. It feels like the first time I came to Oxford with Baz all over again – when I still thought Mr Grimm wanted to kill me, and not because I was working with the Mage but because I was Baz's boyfriend. I wonder if he'll want to kill me again when he finds out.

"I mean, I'm surprised someone hasn't told your dad already," I mumble. I can't believe those two old twats haven't said anything yet. (We would have heard if they did.) Maybe they're not as close to Baz's dad as I thought. I can't help hoping for this one little thing to go my way. "How do you think he's going to take it?"

"Hmmm, how do I think he's going to take the fact that his son-in-law is responsible for sucking the magic right out of our family home in Hampshire? Creating the biggest magickal dead spot in the entire UK?" And he smirks at me, the git.

I don't say anything, and something in my face must break because he stops joking and pulls me towards him. "It's all right Simon, they'll understand once we tell them what happened. You were saving me from the Humdrum, remember?"

He's rubbing my back and I nod against him as I lean into him. Of course I remember. It's like it's burned into my memory. Everything that happened back then is burned into my brain forever. I'll never forget any of it. I don't think Penny and Baz will either. He doesn't stop rubbing my back and I stay there for a while, enjoying the closeness.

Finally I pull back and look at him, giving him a small smile. He gives me an encouraging smile back. "Ready?"

I nod and he gives me a quick kiss before we get out of the car.

BAZ

After dinner and after my siblings are sent to bed, we sit with my parents in the library. Daphne makes up some gin and tonics and she passes them around with a smile. Fiona turned up during dinner, (ridiculous as always in her leather and Doc Martens in the height of summer) and declares she's staying the night so it looks like she's going to be part of this discussion as well. Splendid.

"Hey, Chosen One, how's it going?" she as we take our seats. She bumps Simon's shoulder casually as she passes.

"Fine Fiona," he growls. His knee is bouncing nervously against mine and I can tell he's not in the mood for her cheekiness today.

Daphne gives Fiona a reproachful look, "Don't call him that."

"What?" she mocks. "It's his name."

"Give it a rest Fiona. We have something important to discuss," I snap.

"What?" she says again as she flops into the nearest chair, putting her heavy boots onto the antique coffee table. She catches Daphne's reproving look and drops her feet back to the carpet. Her eyes shift between Simon and me. "Oh fuck. You're not adopting a baby are you?"

Father almost chokes on his gin and I fight to hold back a smirk as he regains his composure. Talk about giving my father a heart attack, he's barely over the wedding and it's been almost two years. I'm pretty sure he still hopes my being gay is just a phase.

I roll my eyes. "No Fiona." It would be amusing on any other day.

"What is it Basil?" Daphne asks and I swear her eyes were a little hopeful for a second. Crowley, isn't my ridiculously large brood of siblings enough for her to fuss over?

I glance in Simon's direction and notice he's drinking his gin a little too fast on account of his nervousness. I'm thinking he'll probably want to stay sober for this discussion, a drunk Simon is not something I need my parents to witness. (There's the slurring of course, and then there's the hugging and the kissing.) (It's absolutely adorable.) I catch his eye and he stops drinking and gives me a small nod. He wants me to start.

I tell them how there's something about the Humdrum that we didn't tell anyone before, and probably wouldn't have until Simon accidently mentioned it at the Coven meeting the other night.

Fiona huffs impatiently. "Well come on then Basil, what's the big secret?"

I tell them about that Christmas eve when the Humdrum came to Hampshire. How it and pushed a void into me that emptied me and how Simon filled me with so much magic, magic that saved me from the Humdrum and sent it away. I tell them how we worked it all out the following day – on Christmas day – with Bunce in her father's study. How all the holes aligned with whenever Simon went off or used an excessive amount of magic, and how the Humdrum sent the dark creatures to set Simon off so he would create more holes in the magickal atmosphere.

And then I tell them that the Humdrum looked like Simon that night, an eleven year old version of him, and that's when we worked out that the Humdrum and Simon were one and the same. I take a cursory look at each of them as I talk and I watch as their faces change from sceptical to incredulous to shock. I remind them that Simon ended the Humdrum the very night as soon as we worked out that he was creating the holes, the same day that the Mage died and the wars ended.

When I finish I sit back and reach for Simon's hand. No one says a word; they only sit and stare in shocked silence. Simon finishes his drink. I finish mine.

The silence stretches and it's starting to feel uncomfortable. Simon shifts in his seat and squeezes my hand so tight he'd probably cause me serious pain if I wasn't a vampire. But I take it and rub my thumb across the back of his hand, hoping to reassure him. I wait for someone to speak.

Fortunately the awkward silence is broken. Unfortunately it's by Fiona, but we've been sitting here for so long that I'll take anything at this point.

"So let me get this straight," she starts, staring at Simon, "You're the Chosen One and the Humdrum?"

His eyes flick briefly to my parents and then back to Fiona. He gives her a reluctant nod.

"Well, fuck me," Fiona whispers, throwing herself back against the chair. "I bet none of the prophets ever saw that coming."

She takes a large swallow of her drink but doesn't say anything else, and I think for once in her ridiculous life she's actually lost for words, stunned into silence. Father on the other hand is turning a deep shade of red, (or is it violet) and I think he's going to have a heart attack right here. He opens his mouth as if to speak but Daphne places her hand on his shoulder, stopping him before he says something I know I'll regret.

"I'm sure it was unintentional Simon," she says, giving Simon a soft look. "You didn't mean to create the dead spot over Hampshire, or any other place. Did you?"

He turns to her and he looks so grateful I could hug her. "No of course I didn't. I was just a kid. I had no idea what was happening."

"No one did," I remind them.

"Until you and Penny worked it all out. . . " Simon says, squeezing my hand. I squeeze back automatically.

"Of course Simon," Daphne reassures him. She keeps her hand on my Father's shoulder and she's rubbing it lightly. She turns to face my father. "We believe you, don't we Malcolm?"

I turn to look at my father as well. Fiona is staring at him just as keenly and eventually even Simon lifts his head to sneak a look. We sit and wait.

Father is still staring at my husband, his steely gaze hasn't moved from Simon during the entire exchange and I can feel Simon starting to shrink back into the sofa, his face turning deathly pale. Father's face is still a deep shade of red, turning slightly crimson now. They're quite the opposite.

Finally Father's expression changes, his eyes narrowing into slits. This can't be good.

"That was our home," he hisses, his eyes never leaving Simon.

"None of this was intentional Father. You must know that," I remind him. "And he stopped the Humdrum as soon as we knew. He worked out how to stop it the very next day."

Father turns to face me and I can feel the tension between us, the air is thick with it. Simon has sunk so far back in his seat it looks like he wants it to swallow him. Fiona's eyes are shifting between my father and me like she's at Wimbledon. Daphne is staring intently at my father. No one says a word.

Until Fiona pipes up. Again.

"So let me get this straight. Simon here, a.k.a. 'the Humdrum,' accidentally created the biggest dead spot in the UK, right over Hampshire, while he was saving your arse Basil?'

I turn to face her. She can be a right pain most days but that's about as succinct a summary as any. And she is trying to ease the tension between Father and Simon. I'll owe her one for sure after this.

"Yes that's right."

"How did you do that Simon?" Daphne queries. "I'm not sure I understand."

There's genuine curiosity on Daphne's face and I let out a long sigh. I'd forgotten that hardly anyone knew that Simon could push his magic into me.

"I pushed my magic into Baz," he tells them. "He was empty, the Humdrum took everything, so I gave him mine."

"That's not possible," Fiona scoffs, but she looks doubtful. "How?"

"I dunno," Simon shrugs. "I just . . . pushed."

"It doesn't work anymore," I interject. "It was only possible when Simon had all that magic."

"Could you do that with anyone?" Daphne asks.

"Not without hurting them," Simon says, shaking his head slowly. "Penny made me try with her but it hurt her. It only worked with Baz."

Daphne gives me a knowing smile which I chose to ignore. I know what she's thinking– that we were destine to be with each other, that our magic is perfectly compatible and that we're some sort of bloody magickal soul mates or what not. She's such a hopeless romantic. (As am I, but that's beside the point, and there are more important matters to contend with tonight.)

I think back to that night Simon gave me his magic and I took him to the stars. I wonder if he's thinking of it as well. I steel a glance at Simon again and he looks miserable. He's not thinking about that night, instead he's probably thinking about the Mage trying to steal his magic. We're getting awfully close to that and he looks panicked. There's no way we're telling anyone that the Mage wanted to take his magic; that he'd worked out the spell to do it. (And ruined Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody for us forever.) I need to move things along.

"Anyway, the Humdrum pushed a void into me and Simon saved me with his magic," I say quickly, trying to move the discussion back to safer territory. "The dead spot over Hampshire was a result of Simon using so much magic."

"I didn't have a choice," his eyes are wide and his voice quiet. "Baz was . . . Baz was hurting . . ."

I squeeze Simon's hand again.

Fiona stares at Simon for a little longer, then nods to herself as if deciding something. She turns to face my father, "Well that's what you call true love I suppose, eh Malcolm?"

Leave it to Fiona to make a joke of all this.

But then she's all back to business. "Well I think you've got your work cut out for you convincing that lot on the Coven that you're not the devil incarnate, but I'll back you Snow," she goes on, knocking back the rest of her drink. "Or is it Chosen One, or can I call you Humdrum now. Hummo for short maybe? Or the Humster?"

"That's enough Fiona!" Father barks. He stands up and glares at each of us, saving Simon until last. Simon still can't look at him, he's studiously studying his lap instead. "If you'll excuse me," he grits out. And with that he leaves the room, drink still in hand.

We all watch him leave. No one says a word until the door shuts firmly behind him.

Simon exhales loudly. "Fuck."

Fiona takes our glasses and makes up another round of gin and tonics and hands them around gingerly. When she gets to Simon she nudges his shoulder. "Here, I made you a double, I think you need it."

He looks up at her. "Thanks," he says in a shaky voice. He downs the drink in one, then turns to me. "He's really mad at me isn't he?"

"For now," I shrug.

Daphne pats his hand. "He just needs some time to take it all in. That was our home."

"I know," Simon mumbles. "I'd do anything to bring the magic back if I could Daphne. You've gotta believe me."

She gives him a reassuring smile. "I believe you Simon. And Malcolm will be fine, he just needs some time to process this. It's all so . . . new. You were saving Basil after all."

"I think he's forgotten that for the moment."

"It's just a lot to take in Basil," Daphne says. "Hampshire was his home. It's your home too, your mothers . . . It's your inheritance."

"I know." It was the House of Pitch. My mother's home. Father has always treated Hampshire reverently because of my mother.

Simon looks up at me and frowns. I never told him that Hampshire will be mine eventually. It isn't really something you tell the very person who made it unliveable. I guess he's worked it out now.

'Yeah, he'll come around Humster. You'll see," Fiona says, trying to lighten the mood and doing a shit job of it.

"Fiona!"

"All right, all right, I was just trying it out!" she shrugs. "I think I'll stick to Chosen One if that's all right with you?"

I roll my eyes and down my drink.

SIMON

I go straight to our room after that, partly because I'm so tired after this crap of a week but mainly because I do not want to bump into Mr Grimm tonight, or for the rest of the weekend come to that. (I wonder if I can stay in our room the whole time.) (I'm pretty sure Daphne will bring food.)

"Fuck," I groan as I throw myself onto our bed.

When I first started coming here I had to sleep in the guest room. That didn't bother me – we were barely out of our teens so it made sense. And at least that room wasn't haunted like the one in Hampshire. We get to share Baz's room now that we're married and we don't have to sneak around in the dead of night anymore. (Not that I did that very often, Mr Grimm is a scary bastard.) (Baz did though, loads of times.)

Baz lies next to me and I turn to face him and close my eyes. He immediately starts running his fingers through my hair. I can feel their cool weight as he pushes my hair off my forehead and then he's twisting and twirling it in slow repetitive movements. It's calming. We lie like that for ages before I have the energy to speak.

When I open my eyes Baz is staring at me. "Baz?"

"Yes love?"

I have to ask him about Hampshire now. How the hell did I not work that out before? It's the House of Pitch for Merlin's sake.

"Why didn't you tell me? About Hampshire?"

"It's not important." He's running his fingers through absently my hair as he watches me and I don't know how he can be so flippant about it. About losing his bloody house!

I stare at him like he's lost his mind. "But it's your house! I took the magic from your house! What a fucking mess . . ."

He moves his fingers from my hair and cups my face, brushing his thumb across my cheek. "You saved my life Simon. It seems like a fair trade."

I don't know how he can be so calm about this? It doesn't make any sense. Maybe he's just had way too long to get used to it.

And I didn't even know.

I drop my head so he can't see my eyes. "I'm sorry," I say, even though I know it's not enough. Nothing could ever be enough for losing your family home, his mother's home. His inheritance.

"Hey, Simon." He's pulling my chin up until I'm forced to meet his eyes. They're soft as he watches me. "It's not your fault Simon. None of this is your fault."

I try to drop my eyes but he's still holding my chin up.

I know he loved that house. He never says it outright but sometimes he talks about growing up there and I can tell how special it was to him, even with all those spooky gargoyles and bloody wraiths.

"I mean it," he says in a firm voice. "I love you and none of this is your fault. All right?"

I stare back at him. I really don't understand him sometimes. At school he'd get mad at me just for opening that bloody window and now he doesn't even care about losing his house.

"All right?" he says, even more insistent this time.

I huff out a frustrated breath. I guess his priorities have changed somewhat over the years. "All right," I mumble.

"Good," he says, kissing me lightly. I flop back on the pillow and huff again, more in exhaustion than anything else. I close my eyes and Baz starts running his fingers through my hair again. It feels so nice that I don't want him to ever stop.

I turn to face him again and he's so close I can make out the blue green flecks in his dark grey eyes. "Hey Baz?"

"Yes love?"

"How long do you think your dad's gonna want to kill me?"

"He doesn't want to kill you," he says, trying to stifle a smile. "Not anymore."

I let out a groan.

"He's just doesn't know what to make of all of this yet."

I turn to lie on my back again and Baz props himself up on his elbow and looks down at me. He starts running his fingers though my hair again. I close my eyes.

"He'll calm down Simon, you'll see. And so will the Coven."

I open one eye. "Do you think?"

He gives a confident nod. "I know."

I open both eyes and look at Baz. He's staring back at me and his eyes are soft and dark and I want to forget about everything that's happened this week and get lost in them.

"Kiss me Baz," I whisper. And he does, he leans in and closes his eyes and he doesn't stop kissing me for a very long time.