Snowbaz one shots!

Too late

It was supposed to be an easy mission.

The fog hung low over the dark alleyways of Soho, wrapping everything in a thick, damp chill. The streetlights flickered, casting eerie shadows against the brick walls. Simon hated London at night—too many hidden corners, too many lurking threats. But they'd been called in to deal with something dangerous: a rogue vampire making a mess in the city. And if there was one thing Simon and Baz were good at, it was taking down threats.

Except this time, they weren't good enough.

Simon's heart was pounding as he tore down the street, his boots slapping against the wet pavement. "Baz!" he shouted, his voice hoarse, almost drowned out by the pouring rain. His sword was slick with blood—some of it his own, most of it not—and his magic was buzzing under his skin, but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered if he couldn't find Baz.

They had gotten separated. One moment Baz was at his side, a dark, elegant shadow moving with the lethal grace of a predator, his wand flashing like lightning. The next, he was gone—dragged into the shadows by that damned vampire. The vampire they hadn't expected to be so strong. Or so vicious.

Simon's breath caught as he spotted a splash of crimson on the ground, pooling in the cracks between the cobblestones. His stomach lurched, his vision blurring for a second as he stared at the blood. "No, no, no..." he muttered under his breath, forcing himself to move again, to follow the trail.

It led him to a narrow alleyway, the kind where the walls seemed to close in on you, pressing the darkness closer. At the end of it, crumpled against a wall, was Baz.

He was a mess. His usually pristine clothes were torn, blood seeping through a ragged gash in his side, his left arm twisted at an unnatural angle. His face was deathly pale—paler than usual—and his eyes were barely open, just slits of silver in the shadows. But he was alive. Simon could see the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

"Baz!" Simon dropped to his knees beside him, his sword clattering to the ground. He reached out, his hands shaking, not knowing where to touch, afraid of making it worse. Baz's shirt was soaked with blood, the fabric sticky and dark. There was so much blood.

"Simon," Baz rasped, his voice weak, barely more than a whisper. He tried to smirk, but it came out as more of a grimace. "Took... you long enough."

"Shut up," Simon said, his voice trembling as he tried to smile back. But his eyes were filling with tears, and he could feel his chest tightening with panic. "You're going to be fine, okay? I'll... I'll fix this."

Baz tried to lift his hand, but it fell limp at his side. "Always... such a bloody hero, aren't you?" he breathed, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before snapping back open. He looked at Simon, his gaze unfocused but still sharp, still filled with that fierce, stubborn fire that Simon had fallen in love with.

Simon tore off his jacket and pressed it against the wound on Baz's side, trying to staunch the bleeding. "Stay with me," he begged, his voice cracking. "Please, Baz. Don't you dare leave me."

But Baz's breaths were coming shorter now, each one more ragged than the last. His skin was cold and clammy under Simon's hands, and Simon could feel the life slipping away from him. No matter how hard he pressed, no matter how desperately he tried to focus his magic on healing, it wasn't enough.

The vampire's poison had done its job well. Simon could feel it, a dark, insidious energy thrumming just beneath Baz's skin, eating away at him from the inside out. It was spreading too fast, and Simon didn't know the spell to stop it. He wasn't even sure if there was one.

Baz's eyes glazed over, his head lolling to the side. Simon's heart clenched. "No, no, no, stay awake, Baz!" he shouted, shaking him lightly. "Don't you dare close your eyes."

Baz's lips twitched in the faintest ghost of a smile. "Simon... stop... shouting," he managed to whisper. "You'll... wake the dead."

Simon let out a strangled laugh, tears streaming down his face. He was losing him. He was losing the only person who made him feel like he was worth something, like maybe he could be more than the monster he was so afraid of becoming.

"I can't lose you, Baz," Simon said, his voice barely more than a sob. "I can't. I—" His throat closed up, the words catching there, words he hadn't said before. Words he should have said a thousand times over. "I love you, Baz. I should have told you before, but I—"

But Baz's eyes were slipping closed, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. Simon pressed harder on the wound, ignoring the way his hands were shaking, ignoring the sobs that were threatening to break him apart. "Please, Baz," he whispered, leaning down until their foreheads touched. "I need you. I don't know how to do this without you."

Baz's lips moved, but no sound came out. His eyes fluttered one last time, his gaze meeting Simon's for a brief, heart-stopping moment. And then the light faded from his eyes, his body going limp in Simon's arms.

Simon froze, his breath catching in his throat. For a moment, everything was still. The world had stopped turning, the rain had stopped falling, the shadows had stopped creeping. There was nothing left but the silence, the empty, gaping silence that threatened to swallow him whole.

"No," Simon whispered, his voice breaking as he shook Baz's lifeless form. "No, no, no... Please, Baz, wake up. Don't leave me. Please..."

But Baz didn't move. Didn't open his eyes. Didn't smirk and make a sarcastic comment about how dramatic Simon was being. He was gone.

And for the first time in his life, Simon Snow felt truly, utterly powerless.

He screamed then—a raw, primal sound that ripped through the night. The kind of scream that broke things, that shattered whatever fragile hope had been holding him together. Magic surged around him, wild and uncontrollable, the way it always did when he lost control. But there was no one left to save. No one to pull him back from the brink.

Simon crumpled over Baz's body, his sobs echoing through the rain-soaked alleyway. He didn't care if the vampire was still out there, if more enemies were closing in. None of it mattered. Baz was gone.

And the world had never felt so empty.