Peter woke up to the feeling of something missing and as he moved his arm, he realized the missing thing was Marcus. His absence also explained the restless night Peter had. While they were living together only a year, Peter got so used to Marcus always being there, long arms usually wrapped around his middle in the morning, head pushed against Peter's shoulder or neck, that waking up to a cold pillow next to him was a bit disturbing. It was barely past six am and Peter wondered if Marcus spent all night on the chair and if Tomas managed to get some sleep. He got up and quietly walked towards the guest room, not wanting to wake up either of its occupants in case they were actually sleeping.
The door to the room was slightly open and in the early morning light coming from the outside Peter noted right away that the chair was empty. His eyes fell on the bed and its sole occupant, who he seemed to be deep asleep, curled up under a blanket. Peter gave the room a once over, noting the empty jug on the bedside table as well as the extra pillow bunched up at the head of the bed. It seemed that Tomas had a difficult night. With a grimace, Peter slowly backed out of the room and headed down to the kitchen. Just as he thought, Marcus was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee cooling within reach. There was a deep frown etched into his face as he was reading through some journal.
Peter walked up to him and slipped his arms around his shoulders, planting a kiss at the top of his head.
"Hey sunshine. Did you get any sleep last night?"
Marcus leaned back into the embrace, turning his face for another kiss then pulling back with a sigh.
"Based on the circles under your eyes I'd say no," Peter drily stated.
"Maybe an hour or two," Marcus admitted. "There was a lot on my mind."
"You could've came back to bed after Tomas fell asleep," Peter chided him a little, but Marcus shook his head.
"He had nightmares, I couldn't leave him alone. I came down just a while ago."
"Well, he's asleep now, I checked. If you want to go lie down, I can keep an eye on him until I go to work."
Marcus shook his head.
"I can't. Not after this." He nodded towards the journal he was previously reading and Peter squinted, trying to decipher the writing. The page that was open had several Latin words scribbled all across the edges, a crude drawing of something looking like an urn and an eye with two pupils. Peter cringed, not knowing what it was supposed to mean, but feeling it was nothing good.
"What is it?"
"Tomas's visions. All he could remember of them..." Marcus listed through the journal and Peter was dismayed to find all the pages filled up in small writing, Spanish, Latin and English fighting for attention between drawings of violent scenes. "I don't know how far back they date..." Marcus shook his head, eyes filled with concern and something approaching horror. As Peter caught sight of an extremely gruesome drawing of an open human chest, he could relate to that.
"That's... disturbing." Peter took the journal and started looking through the pages, trying to understand at least some of the text, all the while wondering if they weren't making a mistake. Maybe Tomas indeed suffered from some psychological illness... he had seen similar drawings while visiting a friend at Bethesda, on the psych ward. Marcus seemed to sense the direction of his thoughts and plucked the journal out of his hands, giving Peter a surprisingly strong glare.
"Don't you even try hinting it Peter. This... this is not some mental illness," Marcus slammed the notebook down on the table, opening it on the page with the drawing of the human chest.
"See this? It's the description of a murder scene, step by step."
"You're not making it sound any better, Marcus," Peter protested and Marcus nodded, grabbing an old newspaper that was lying by his coffee mug. Peter didn't notice it until now, but Marcus made sure he saw the main article on the front pages.
"It's this, Peter. The murder of those four families. That happened about two weeks ago."
Marcus was right. Peter quickly read through the article and then went through the scribbled notes. There was much more detail in Tomas's notes... a disturbing amount of detail actually that wasn't released to the press.
"Is it possible he saw the news and just... has a really active imagination?"
Marcus looked at him wearily as if expecting that question.
"Anything is possible, until we find out if the details fit. But, Peter... there are other things he couldn't have known."
And as Peter looked at Marcus's haunted face, he knew those things were scaring him much more than the drawings filled with death. Peter let out a sigh and rubbed at his eyes.
"Okay, I think I'll need coffee for this." He poured himself a cup from the batch Marcus made and sit down next to him.
"Now tell me what makes you so sure about this vision thing." Maybe if it had been said in a different tone, Marcus would have bristled and gotten angry on Tomas's behalf, of being doubted by a man he was in love with. But Peter's tone was open and supporting, curious. He was the voice of reason, a calming presence Marcus so needed. So instead of getting angry, Marcus gave his partner a weary smile and listed to the page filled with Latin and the drawing of the eye.
"This here is the sign of an integrated demon. There's no way back from integration, but the church tries to keep that information under wrap. Tomas couldn't have read about the pupil anywhere, outside of some horror novels. I know..." Marcus raised a hand to stop Peter's automatic reply. "You think that's exactly where he could have come up with the pictures too. The problem is here..."
"What is Vocare Pulvere?" Peter read out loud the Latin that was filling the edges, the two words repeated again and again in a frantic way.
"The translation would be 'ash summoning'. It's an old ritual of summoning evil into this world." Marcus paused then nodded towards the old newspaper with the article about the mass murder in the local neighborhood, where people were seemingly harvested for organs. "To do that, you need to get the kidneys, heart, soles of the feet and several other organs of a victim and burn them to ash."
Marcus fell silent for a moment then turned the page that was written in Spanish, the handwriting shaky and blotched, a sure sign that the hand holding the pen was anything but steady.
"He's describing the whole process, Peter. There's... there's no way he could've known that." Marcus shook his head and the fear was back in his eyes. "This journal is filled with a dozen of other visions, of murder and things no kid should ever witness. My god, I'm surprised Tomas wasn't locked up in a loony bin after his first vision. This... this is terrible."
Now it was Marcus who was shaking and Peter automatically reached out and pulled him into an embrace, trying to will the fear and worry away.
"Something's coming, Peter. Something's coming and Tomas is right in the middle of it, and I'm not sure we can protect him," Marcus choked out.
"Well, we will sure as hell try," Peter said, trying to push his own apprehension away. He hoped they didn't bite off something bigger than they could chew, but it was past the time to turn back. Marcus has already bonded with the kid and Peter wasn't willing to let him get hurt either. It looked like they would have to fight whatever was coming.
"He will need our help," Marcus said, leaning their heads together, thankful that Peter didn't say no.
"It's a good thing then that he has a soldier and an exorcist on his side, huh?"
The corner of Marcus's mouth turned up in a smile and his eyes glinted.
"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?"
Peter frowned in mock puzzlement.
"I don't seem to recall any such moment. Maybe you should remind me?"
"Such a tease," Marcus laughed then planted a warm kiss on Peter's mouth. "I love you," he said when they separated to take a breath.
"I love you too," Peter said with an equally dopey smile and for a moment all was well with the world. Until Peter leaned back and his eyes landed on the journal. Marcus followed his gaze and the smile slipped from his face, replaced by the worry of earlier.
"What now?" Peter asked, knowing there will already be some plan brewing in Marcus's mind, or at least a start of one.
"First we need to find out how much of this is true," Marcus tapped his fingers on the journal. "The case with those four families shouldn't be that hard, but we need to be careful and not to draw any attention to us or Tomas. He's in enough danger already as it is."
Peter wanted to ask what danger, but his mind was already running through a list of names he could contact.
"I think I can call a person or two and find out a bit more details about those murders. At least one other detail that wasn't mentioned in the news. I assume you're just trying to make sure that Tomas's visions are real, yeah?"
"I'm pretty sure they are, but evidence is always good."
"Anything we can do to actually bring those responsible to justice?"
Marcus was silent for a moment, thinking. His priority was Tomas and to keep him safe. He wasn't sure if their ways connected thanks to some elaborate plan of God or what even was the ultimate goal, but at this point Marcus didn't care. God was done speaking to him it seemed, yet he pushed this boy into his arms. Marcus would do anything to protect him and not to let him befall Gabriel's fate. If he could stop some other people from being harmed, that was good too.
"We will see what we find out," Marcus conceded and Peter nodded. He wasn't really keen on poking into a hornet's nest and so far it looked like they were doing just that.
"What is the goal of those demons anyway? What do they need the ritual for if they can just possess anyone?"
"Not anyone, actually," Marcus said with a sigh. "And it takes lots of work with no sure result. There's another vision Tomas described... about the ritual and where it was used." Marcus swallowed and handed Peter the journal open on the page. Peter read through it, frowning and feeling decidedly sicker by the end.
"My god. Children... they're targeting kids of influential people?"
"They are working on a long game, Peter. This is no quick warfare. They want to plant the seeds, wait and manipulate for years."
"But for what? What do they hope to accomplish?"
Marcus sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes.
"I don't know and I'm not sure I want to, but we must do something. Sooner or later they'll find out about Tomas and his 'gift' and once they do, he'll be too dangerous for them to be left alive."
Peter squeezed Marcus's shoulder in silent support.
"We won't let that happen."
Marcus looked up and gave him a grateful smile that was broken up by a barely stifled yawn.
"What is your plan for today?" Peter asked, shooting a look out the window at the rising sun.
"I think I need to call up an old friend of mine and try to find out more about father Simon. I have a bad feeling about him."
"So you want to play detective during work hours?"
"I'll call in sick today," Marcus said and got a surprised look from Peter. As far as Peter knew, Marcus had never in his life 'called in sick', whatever job he was doing. "I'm fine," Marcus rolled his eyes as if reading his thoughts.
"I want to check out some of the other things that are mentioned in the journal as well. I need to go over them with Tomas..."
"Are you calling in sick for him too?" Peter asked with a small smile and Marcus shrugged.
"I already spoke to Olivia. Told her the kid needs a bit more sleep. She didn't seem to mind, as long as he calls her as soon as he wakes."
"Tomas is not the only one who can use some extra sleep," Peter noted and grabbed Marcus's coffee cup out of his hand. Marcus glared at him, but didn't protest.
"I'm actually thinking of getting an hour or two. You aren't leaving until nine, yeah?"
"A little bit earlier, but yeah. Go on up, I'll hold down the fort and wake you up before I leave."
"What would I do without you?" Marcus asked with a gentle smile and Peter shrugged, pouring Marcus's cold coffee down the drain.
"Probably overdose on caffeine," he said with a smug look. Marcus wanted to retort something, possibly that it wouldn't be such a bad way to go, but it got lost in a huge yawn. So he gave Peter a small wave and headed for bed, hoping he would be able to catch up on some sleep.
There was someone in his room and it wasn't Olivia. Tomas could tell; despite the fact his eyes were still closed. He always recognized Olivia even in total darkness. It was partly the smell of her shampoo and the gentle perfume she sometimes used, but also the feeling of warmth when she was close enough. No, the person in the room with him was definitely male. For a second Tomas froze, his breathing hitching, goose bumps running down his back in anticipation of some threat. But nothing came and as Tomas slowly let out a breath and carefully peeled open one eye, he noted that whoever was there had left. He also realized that the bed he was lying on wasn't his own.
Blinking, Tomas frowned into the semi darkness of the room, seeing the curtains were drawn but it was already light outside. That's when the events of the last day came back to him and the sleepy confusion was replaced by gut churning panic.
Tomas groaned, running both hands over his face, recounting the talk with Marcus, his breakdown and the tears. What was worse than the feeling of utter shame over crying in front of not only Marcus but also Peter was the realization that he told Marcus everything. And now he was alone in the room and already terrified at the prospect that there would be a knock on the door and some orderlies would whisk him away to a mental hospital. Was that them, checking in just a minute earlier? Or was it Marcus, making sure he was still asleep?
Tomas bit back a moan of utter shame, wanting nothing more than to burrow back under the blankets and sleep until the end of the world. He might've done just that, but the thought of sleep was still scaring him. Nightmares were never far these days. Not to mention he needed to use the bathroom and get something to drink. He felt parched and sticky with sweat at the same time. The need to feel cool water on his face and lips overcame the possible shame of having to face Marcus or Peter. Tomas slowly got out of the bed, pausing momentarily as the world seemed to tilt. He swallowed then stood up. This feeling of lightheadedness wasn't new... he had to battle it several times the last week. Tomas didn't know if it was the lack of proper sleep or the fact he barely kept anything down. His stomach churned in protest, hungry and sick at the same time and Tomas tried to calm it down with a promise of some water.
Shuffling towards the bathroom, Tomas paused in front of the bedroom. He was tempted to look in, to make sure Marcus was there, but he didn't dare. Shaking his head Tomas continued to the bathroom.
The sip of water from the running tap and the cold wetness on his face helped Tomas to wake up a bit more. The look into the mirror made him cringe however. His eyes were sunken and bloodshot, as if he spent a long time crying or didn't get to sleep for a while, even though Tomas had to admit that those few hours of sleep he got tonight were the best he had in the last week. Still, he hoped he would get rid of the raccoon eyes before he had to face Olivia. She was already worried sick about him, he knew.
With a sigh, knowing that there was nothing he could do about his appearance without some serious make up or magic involved, Tomas gave up the attempt to look presentable. He left the bathroom and headed down to the kitchen. Maybe Marcus was there, waiting for a proper explanation or discussing with Peter how best to let him know he wasn't welcome at their home anymore.
Somewhere in the back of his mind Tomas realized these thoughts were ridiculous. He remembered the look on Marcus's face when he told him about the shadows and everything and the man truly believed him. But that still didn't mean he wouldn't change his mind about sticking close to Tomas. Maybe this was too much trouble and Tomas knew he was hardly worth it.
He walked down the stairs and into the kitchen with an air of pretended acceptance, all the while trying to convince himself it wasn't a big deal, that he would just have to deal with it alone, like he always did.
Tomas could tell someone was in the kitchen by the smell of food and the clicking of the keyboard. Frowning a bit at the strange combination, Tomas slowly peeked from around the corner. He was surprised to see Peter there instead of Marcus. He was about to take a step back and retreat, unsure of whether he was welcome or not, when the floorboard under his foot creaked.
"Hey, what are you doing up so early?" Peter asked, looking up from behind the laptop and Tomas paused.
"Uh... what's the time?" he asked a bit uncertainly, frozen in the doorway.
"Quarter to seven," Peter said and closed down the laptop, giving Tomas a scrutinizing look. "How are you feeling?"
Tomas felt himself blush at the question, not really enjoying the attention. He cleared his throat and shuffled from feet to feet.
"Okay. I... uh... I need to go to school."
Peter just raised a doubtful eyebrow.
"I'd say you could use a bit more sleep... or food. Are you hungry?"
Tomas bit at his lower lip. It was a tricky question. His stomach was hungry, but he wasn't sure he could keep anything down. In the end he just shrugged. Peter seemed to understand his dilemma, because he nodded.
"Why don't you sit down? I'll make you some toast and tea... it might settle your stomach if you don't feel well."
"I'm fine," Tomas quickly said and took a reluctant step inside the kitchen. "You don't have to bother-"
"Nonsense. Sit. Olivia would have our heads if we let you starve," Peter said with a smile even as he put on the kettle and flopped some bread into the toaster. Tomas sit at the table, careful not to dislodge several papers and notes that were scattered on the desk... until his eyes caught something familiar and he blinked.
Right next to Peter's laptop lie his journal, opened at the page describing one of his older dreams. Tomas was still a bit leery to call them visions, but he pushed back the thought as unimportant. What was important was the fact Peter had obviously read his journal... the one with the description of all the gruesome deaths. Tomas paled, his breath caught somewhere mid way. Maybe he made some sound or Peter had just well honed instincts because he turned around with a frown on his face.
"Tomas?" he asked, worry clear in his voice and Tomas forced himself to look up, eyes huge with fear.
"What's wrong?" Peter didn't understand the sudden panic but he caught Tomas's look towards his journal and a slight curse escaped his lips. He crossed the distance between them, picking the journal up and closing it, handing it back to Tomas. Tomas grabbed it, his hands shaking slightly.
"I'm sorry. I didn't... I didn't read it all, I couldn't even if I wanted to," Peter said, sitting down so he was face to face with Tomas instead of towering over him.
Tomas appreciated the gesture, but the feeling he would get sick didn't vanish, even though Peter wasn't looking at him as if he was crazy. Not yet anyway. Maybe just a bit worried that he would topple over or get one of his seizures. Tomas clutched the journal in his hands and cleared his throat, suddenly unable to look at Peter. He could see the swirl of his colors and so far it was only worry, no disgust or fear, but Tomas knew it would come soon. It had to, after what he saw in that journal.
"Hey, you okay? Should I get Marcus?" Peter reached out and put a gentle hand on Tomas's shoulder. It took all of Tomas's will not to pull away. It wasn't like he was afraid of Peter, he knew the man wouldn't harm him. But he felt he didn't deserve the kindness at the moment.
"I'm fine," Tomas managed to croak out, licking at dry lips. He wished Marcus was there but at the same time didn't want to bother the man. It was ridiculous but he was worried about his reaction, even though he clearly remembered Marcus staying with him after he spilled his guts about everything and there was no judgment there.
The kettle whistled and Tomas almost jumped out of his skin. Peter just gave his shoulder a squeeze and got up to make the tea and the toast. He also poured a glass of cold water and the moment he put it down, Tomas grabbed the glass as if he haven't had a drink for ages. Peter just raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Instead he sat back down and waited until Tomas finished the glass, then he pushed the plate with the toast in front of him.
"Eat if you can."
Tomas hesitantly picked up a toast and started nibbling on it, not really feeling all that hungry, especially with Peter's eyes on him.
There was a moment of awkward silence and it was Tomas who broke it first.
"Did Marcus tell you?" Tomas blurted out suddenly, unable to contain his curiosity any longer. He just needed to know what Peter thought... what he could expect from Marcus.
"You might need to be a little more specific, Tomas. Marcus tells me lots of things, some I don't even want to know," Peter tried to ease the mood a bit with a smile, but Tomas was too tense for that.
"About the visions," Tomas hesitated at the last word, but thought what the hell. Either Peter will get scared off right away or not. There was no sense in prolonging things. "About what I can see... all the death." Tomas nodded towards the journal that lie closed in his grip.
Peter looked him straight in the eyes and without a blink nodded.
"Yes, he did."
Tomas's face fell. He thought Marcus could keep a secret. He thought Marcus could be trusted.
"Why?" he whispered and even though the question obviously wasn't aimed at Peter, the older man decided to answer.
"Because he's my partner. Because we have no secrets... and he needed my help."
Tomas blinked, the hurt look changing into one of confusion.
"Help? Help with what?"
"You," Peter answered gently.
Tomas jerked, his head full with thoughts about being called a freak, about getting sent away though who knows where they would even send him. He felt himself panicking again but Peter quickly shook his head, understanding in his eyes.
"No... I said it wrong. Marcus needs my help so we can protect you. And to figure out what this is all about. Those... visions." Peter nodded towards his computer. "I was trying to look up news about cases similar to what you mentioned in your journal... at least the parts that weren't in Latin or Spanish. Maybe... maybe if we find a pattern or can connect the visions to real cases... maybe we'll figure out what to do next."
Tomas stared at him, speechless.
"You... you believe me?" he finally asked, once again taken aback by the generosity of those two men.
Peter sighed and nervously ran a hand through his short hair.
"To be frank, when Marcus told me, I had my doubts," Peter admitted, feeling it would be counterproductive to lie to Tomas. Especially if what Marcus told him about the kid being able to read people was true.
"But you believe me now," Tomas said, his voice expressing his own disbelief and surprise over the situation. Yet what he said wasn't a question but a statement and Peter couldn't but nod.
"I do."
"Why?"
Indeed, why. Peter couldn't really say it was just gut feeling or the fact he trusted Marcus without doubt. None of those arguments would appease the kid. So he went for facts.
"I found some details you shouldn't be privy to, yet you mentioned them in the journal."
"What details?"
'The make of the knife used to kill those people? The description of the process of skinning the victims feet?' Those were the details that made Peter stick with toast instead of scrambled eggs for breakfast. Those were the details that Tomas shouldn't know, shouldn't even imagine. Peter still hoped those details were just a work of an overactive imagination, he would harbor that hope until his friend he called twenty minutes ago wouldn't bring him the file and the autopsy report of those victims. But those weren't words he wanted to share with Tomas who looked ready to crash back in a bed or face plant into his uneaten toast.
"Father Simon. Did you... have you met him before?"
Tomas frowned then shook his head.
"I think I saw him at my school a few days back," Tomas admitted, remembering only too well the visions that came from that encounter. "But no, I never met him in person."
Peter nodded and clicked on the keyboard of his laptop, bringing up a webpage then turning the laptop so that Tomas could see the screen.
"Is he there?" Peter asked and Tomas skimmed over the top of the webpage which had the title of the school... Catholic University of St. Lucia. His eyes fell down on the picture with a group of people. Without a second of hesitation, he pointed towards the face from his nightmares and swallowed.
"That's him," Tomas said and he looked at the face, feeling sudden hatred fill his heart. He didn't know why, he just knew the man in the picture would try to hurt him. Gritting his teeth, Tomas skimmed the rest of the people on the picture, somehow relieved that he didn't see any of the kids from his vision, though he caught sight of one student wearing the same uniform with the logo as he saw in the dreams. What was worse, on the side of the picture he also saw the photo of a familiar woman. Squinting, he pointed at her then looked at Peter.
"I saw her too... she was at our school with father Simon. Who... who is she?"
Peter didn't know, but he scrolled down the page and read the description under the photo.
"Maria Walters... she's one of the founders of the school. Interesting," Peter muttered and quickly wrote down the name on the piece of paper that was already filled with details from Tomas's journal. He had a nice list of people he could hand over to his friend for a proper background check. Even if it would cost him a favor, Peter thought it would be well worth it.
Satisfied that he had at least some basic plan, Peter relaxed back into the chair, trying not to look at Tomas as if he was the most puzzling thing found flushed out on the beach. By the way Tomas fidgeted on his seat, idly playing with the half eaten toast, Peter thought he failed spectacularly.
„Maybe when you finish ripping that toast to pieces, you should call Olivia," Peter spoke after a moment and Tomas looked up, startled, the toast falling from his fingers.
"Yeah, I... I think I'll call her." Tomas nodded and stood up, ready to go back to the guest room in search of his phone, when Peter's voice stopped him.
"Tomas."
"Yeah?" Tomas turned, a frown marring his face.
"Marcus called both of you in sick today. Olivia knows as well, so... relax. Talk to your sister, then go back to bed... get more sleep. You look like you still need it." Peter's words were gentle and Tomas wasn't sure what to say. On one hand, he wasn't very happy about someone else deciding what he should be doing or insinuating he was in no shape to go to school. On the other hand... Peter was right. He still felt for the lack of better word wonky. Everything was just a bit unreal and Tomas wasn't sure if it was the lack of sleep or his mind trying to dissociate from the events of the last few days. Whatever the case, the idea of going back to bed and getting some rest sounded more than welcome. Maybe now that he put all the nightmares down on paper and showed them to Marcus, maybe now he wouldn't have to see them all the time.
Tomas's feet shuffled on the floor as he was hesitating to ask something that was on his mind. Peter just quirked up an eyebrow and gave a small incline of his head.
"What's bothering you, Tomas?" He asked and Tomas almost snorted. Where should he even start to answer that question?
"I... don't you want me to leave?" Tomas asked instead then cursed himself for being an idiot. Why would he ask the one question he was the most afraid to hear the answer for?
Even as he was internally reprimanding himself and trying to come up with an apology or a different question, Peter decided to answer this one.
"No... of course not! Why would you even ask?" he frowned and Tomas opened his mouth then clapped it closed.
"I just-" Tomas shrugged, pointing at himself reproachfully. "I'm too much trouble and I... I don't want to get Marcus into some danger."
"Well, I don't want Marcus to be in danger either," Peter agreed as he stepped up close to Tomas. He made sure the boy was looking at him though when he continued. "But I don't want you to be facing danger either, especially not alone."
Tomas's eyes widened a bit in surprise and Peter's heart twitched. There was such a look of hope in those brown eyes he swore he would do anything in his power not to crush it.
"We want to help you with this... whatever the outcome. You're not alone. Okay?"
Tomas gulped then gave a hesitant nod.
"Are you sure?" he asked in a choke voice.
"Yes," Peter replied with a smile and watched as Tomas's shoulders marginally relaxed.
"Thank you," the boy said and without warning he gave Peter a heartfelt hug. Peter blinked in surprise, then put a hand on Tomas's back and patted him gently.
Tomas pulled back, clearly embarrassed by the display of emotions, but there was still a smile playing on his lips.
"I... thanks."
"Okay, go call Olivia before she decides that we kidnapped you and calls the cops on us. Then get back to bed, before Marcus realizes you're awake and get's up too. The man needs his sleep or he'll be grumpy as hell."
Tomas grinned and with a nod headed up the stairs, pausing in the doorway just long enough to wish Peter a good day at work, then vanishing upstairs before Peter could answer.
Shaking his head and barely keeping in the chuckle at suddenly having not one but two people acting like teenagers under his roof, Peter returned back to the table and the open computer. Looking at the webpage of the school, the smile slipped from his lips. He didn't need special powers or visions to know that the smile on father Simon's face didn't bode well for them.