Penelope

We're not stupid enough to go back to our rooms. We have to leave, and soon, it isn't safe to stay here anymore. This has all gone too far. The Mage will kill Baz, if he thinks he has too. And I would be a fool to think the Mage incapable of doing whatever necessary to keep Simon at his side. Mother was right about coming back here, it was never safe.

The Wavering Woods is our safest bet, somehow. I hate being idle, but we're going to have to wait. If I call mum it will be at least two days before she can get to us. I don't think we have that long.

I help Baz rest Simon against a tree; he'd started struggling only a few minutes into the walk. I look back the way we came; we're far enough in that if anyone's looking for us we can't be seen from beyond the tree line. Possibly, but not certainly. I lift my hand above my head, pointing my ring, "There's Nothing to See here!"

Just to be safe, or as close to is as I can make myself feel.

Baz is looking at Simon again, all worried. It's becoming less surreal for me to see emotions other than scorn on his face.

He lifts his own wand up, as I had. "There's Nothing to See Here!"

I don't bother feeling offended. Twice the cover is better.

Even if mine is stronger.

Hand resting on Simon's shoulder, Baz looks to the canopy. The birds grew silent upon our arrival, but he seems to be listening for them. Searching. "It'll take an age for a bird to reach my aunt," he says, on edge. I wonder if he's getting hungry as well.

He's right though, no Watford bird could be expected to get to anyone before nightfall. Much less, for anyone to get here soon after that. Birds aren't fast enough. I look at Simon, and he seems to be thinking the same thing. There isn't a question about it anymore, the rules no longer matter.

"Use my phone," I offer, "it will be faster."

His head whips around, "your what?"

I retrieve it from my skirt pocket, holding it out to him, "here."

He looks positively bewildered. "How did you-" He turns back to Simon, "did you know she had that?"

Simon pushes himself up further, groaning. "Yeah, she's had it since the end of last year. For emergencies."

Baz looks at the phone like I've just turned water into wine, "I didn't think he'd let them work on the grounds…"

I roll my eyes, "just take the phone, Baz. We need to get out of here."

He doesn't need to be told twice.

Baz

Every dial tone feels like an echoing footstep. In pace to every second that we lose. One dial, one step. The Mages footsteps, getting closer. I pace, one eye on the tree line. Come on, pick up! What the hell could she be doing?

I can feel Simon's eyes following me, thinking. He's probably worried about me for God's sake. Like he's not the one that just went off with the strength of a nuclear bomb. He could barely walk the way here. Penny's got him though, for now. But we can't stay here while he gets stronger.

The call goes to message, so I dial again. Come on, come on, please pick up!

The dial disappears, replaced by a muted shuffling noise like someone's trying to get a grips of their phone. She picked up.

"-Who the hell is this? How did you get my number? If you start telling me my phone needs a new fucking-"

I let myself breathe, "Fiona, its Baz."

"I swear to God if you've been kidnapped by fucking numpties again-"

"Fiona, it's the Mage."

There's a silence, except for the faint rumbling of an engine.

"What the hell has he done…"

Her voice has gone low, cold.

I walk out of Penny and Simon's hearing range. "He…" Fuck, what do I say? Nothing feels like it can be explained over crappy phone reception. I swallow, "look, there's too much to explain over the phone. Simon's hurt and-"

"What, Snow?"

I nod, even though she can't see me, "yes, Simon. And-" I run a hand over my face, "please, you need to get here. Fast."

Fiona

I stare at the road ahead.

Why does he even care that Snow is hurt? I don't want anything to do with helping the Mage's little pet.

…but Baz said please.

Baz

There's another silence, longer than the last one. "Fiona, please-"

"I'm coming."

Simon

Baz is pacing, arms folded and his eyes fixed on the ground. It's been half an hour and he hasn't stopped. I hope his aunt will get here soon, so we can leave.

Leave.

I never thought I'd want to leave Watford. I'm not sure I really do. Its home, the first one I've really had. The only one. The foster house never felt like one, and I'd always begged not to have to go back. To face it. Surely the Mage would let me stay. Live with him, if not at Watford. Every year I fooled myself into thinking maybe he might. Maybe if I slew the dragon, like he asked. Or gained control of my magic. Or maybe if I killed the Humdrum and saved the world, like I'm supposed too. Maybe then it would be enough for him to let me stay.

Whatever I had to face during a school year, the foster house was always worse.

The Mage had been there. He knew what it was like; he could have stopped it.

He always made me go back.

"-Simon? Simon, do you need Baz to do that thing again? We'll be out of here soon, I promise."

I'm smoking again. Just a little.

I hadn't realised… Merlin, I could have done it again.

I breathe in, like Baz showed me. It's hard. "No," I manage, "no, I'm alright."

She rubs a hand along my back, "should I ask what you were thinking about?"

I shuffle closer, "I just want to get out of here."

"Do you want me to cast another 'Get Well Soon?' You seem tired."

I shake my head, "probably best not too right now." The stinging in my cheek is mostly gone; but she's right. Everything feels like it's made of lead; moving is an effort. I might react though, if she casts another spell. The last one she'd done, after the stars, I'd calmed down enough that it was safe to use magic on me. Penny tells me I feel it more than most, when people use their magic on me.

Baz is the only one who seems to be able to handle mine. I look for him; usually he feels my magic first. He's sensitive to it, and he always seems to sense when it's changing, becoming unhinged. He's sensitive to everything though, I'm not special. Heartbeats, smell, touch.

Well, maybe that last one is me.

Baz comes back into view, his gate faster. Almost a run. "Fiona called, she's here," he says, coming to a stop, "we can leave."

Penny gets up and holds a hand out for me. I take it, and she helps pull me up with some effort. "Thanks, Pen," I say, dusting myself off.

Baz picks a piece grass out of my hair, not really paying attention. "She's not far," he says, "she said that there isn't anybody near the front gate. I checked too, there's nobody."

"With magic?"

He sighs through gritted teeth, "yes, Penny. I used magic."

Penny looks taken aback, but to her credit she doesn't flinch. "Look, I'm sorry, but are you sure. I don't want to risk it if you weren't properly able to cast-"

Baz seethes, "I can cast a revealing spell!"

I touch his arm gently, "Baz, you're bleeding."

He wipes the blood off his chin with his sleeve, "the spell worked."

I press my lips into a thin line. He cannot keep tearing open his wounds like this. I haven't really seen, but they must have cut more when the pulled his fangs. He's bleeding too much for it to just be from his gums. Hell, talking shouldnt be putting that much strain on them, right? His cheeks are still bruised, maybe something else is damaged? Like the inside of his mouth or something? He's just bleeding a lot.

Penny doesn't say anything else. But I know she's going to check anyway when we get there. I trust Baz, but I'd feel better if she did.

Baz changes his attention, letting his arm slip around me, "your magic changed, are you alright?"

I let myself lean into him, so he's holding a bit of my weight. "I'm fine, Penny helped me."

He looks to Penny, and I catch a glimpse of something akin to an apology in his eye. "We could wait until dusk?" he offers, reluctantly.

She shakes her head, "they'll have more time to notice we're all gone, and find us."

"Than follow me."

Baz

Aunt Fiona is parked a bit away from the front gate, as to not be obvious. I don't think anybody could see us from the grounds. There's a whole castle wall, a moat and then some before you get to the gate. I heard Penny mutter a revealing spell, and like I'd said, there was nobody there.

Fiona doesn't say a word as I help Simon into the car, sandwiching him between me and Penny. I'm thankful. She still doesn't say anything as we pull onto the road. Once we're well and truly on our way I catch her eyes in the rear-view mirror. They look unsure, confused. Why wouldn't they be? Simon Snow is holding her nephew's hand, not the famed Agatha Wellbel-

Simon sits bolt upright, panicked. "Wait, stop!"

Fiona jumps, slamming the breaks, "Christ!"

Simon's fumbling for his seatbelt, "we've got to get Agatha; he'll think she knows where we've gone."

I only have a moment to wonder if Simon and I are vaguely psychically linked before Fiona starts driving again. I have to keep swatting Simon's hands away from the seatbelt in fear he's going to jump out if he gets undone.

"Please, you've got to turn around," he begs, "she's not safe!"

Fiona is unmoving, "not happening. Baz has obviously decided to glue himself to your hip, so I'm not bloody letting you walk back into the school with him if shit's hit the fan."

I fumble, "Fiona, I'm not glued- We're not-"

Penny snaps, "Oh for God's sake, Baz! You've been holding Simon's hand for the past ten minutes, she knows!"

"Damn right," Fiona confirms, " and I want an explanation, to that and what the fuck is going on. Your face looks like it was hit with a chair, you called me out of the blue, wouldn't tell me what was wrong, except that Jon Snow over here was hurt. And the Mage is involved? I'm going to need answers-"

I grip Simon's hand, "Fiona, please-"

"As soon as you're safe."

-v-v-

Its dark when we get to the manor, Father and Daphne are waiting outside at the bottom of the steps. I can tell they're anxious. Father is stiff, cold, while Daphne is jittery. Her expression an open book. We pull up on the drive, gravel churning under the cars tiers. The fountain has been turned off, so there's that. I fucking hate that thing. Simon's got his head on my shoulder and his hand in mine, asleep. He's been like that for an hour or so.

Penny nudges him, because I think she knows I won't. "Simon," she tries, "we're here."

Fiona slams the car door shut, getting out first. Simon starts awake, looking for the source of the noise. His eyes focus after a second, taking in his surroundings.

I run my thumb over his hand, "need help getting out?"

He shakes his head, "feel better now."

It's true, he slides out after me almost as ungracefully as everything else he does. Penny is unconvinced, so while's she's checking him over I walk up to Father, following Fiona. No sooner than I get there, Daphne pulls me into an embrace, which I try to return. When she pulls back she brushes my hair aside, her eyes growing wide. "Basil, what happened to your cheeks!"

I push her hands aside, "I'm fine, Mother."

Father turns to me. "Basilton," he says, voice unreadable. "I was led to believe it was Snow that was injured?"

I try to ignore how painfully aware of everything I suddenly am. I shift, "it's not that simple, Father."

"No, I expect not," he says, turning. "Daphne, dearest. Show our guests inside if you would."

Fiona protests, for a bit, but soon they all head inside after Daphne. I go to follow them, wanting to get away from the reality of everything for just a moment.

"Not you, Basilton," my father calls, "we need to have a word."

I watch my friends disappear up the stairs. Simon lingers, giving me a worried look over his shoulder. I nod reassuringly.

"Is everyone else asleep?" I stall, watching the front doors close behind them.

Father sighs, "why is Simon Snow here, again?"

I can't help it, I kick my shoe into the gravel, hard. "Will you give it a rest!" I growl, "I know you think he's my enemy. Our enemy. But he's not the Mage, Father! Crowley, he's not even like him."

"He is on his side, Basilton."

"But he's not!" I try to draw breath; to calm myself. If I lose my composure I'll lose Fathers ears. "At least, not anymore," I breathe. "Not now." I can't really look at him, his gaze is always unwavering. Unyielding.

He studies me, "what has you so convinced of this? Something has obviously happened, Fiona called me and recounted what you told her. Which was barely anything, other than it had something to with Simon and the Mage."

I grind my heal down to the dirt, my eyes starting to sting, "there's so much…"

Father falters. He's looking at me now. Really looking. Not through me, but at me. I don't think I've cried in front of him before. His hands unclasp from behind his back, "Basil, what's happened? Did he hurt you?"

I shake my head, trying to will the lump in my throat away, "It's not that." I can feel his eyes on my bruises.

"Basil, please. Tell me what he's done."

I try to laugh, but it sounds more like a sob. "What hasn't he done?"

"Basilton, if you want me to understand, you're going to have to explain it to me."

I don't think I can.

…But I have to. This isn't about my fucking fangs anymore.

My legs start wobbling. "Father, it was him."

He goes still, and I hear his heart rate raise. "Him? Basilton, who gave you these bruises?"

I start shaking, "He sent them to the nursery, the Mage. It was him-" My voice breaks, and I go to draw breath but I can't. Everything has gone tight. I grasp at my chest. Oh Christ, I can't breathe.

Father reaches for me, "Son…"

My knees buckle, and the ground starts rushing towards me.

Malcolm

I catch him. I catch my son.

He clings to me like he's a child again, uneven breaths wracking through him.

I hold him closer. Crowley and Morgana, Natasha I'm so sorry…