Snowbaz one shots!

In the flames

The smoke was so thick it tasted like charcoal in Simon's mouth. It burned his throat with every panicked breath, making it almost impossible to draw in enough air. The heat was unbearable, the fire raging around him in a hellish storm of orange and red. Simon squinted through the haze, his eyes stinging, but all he could see were swirling shadows and flashes of flames licking up the walls.

"Baz!" he shouted, his voice raw and desperate. But the roar of the fire swallowed his words, turning them into nothing more than a rasp.

He spun around, trying to get his bearings. The last time he'd seen Baz, he'd been just a few feet away, battling the flames with his wand. But then a wooden beam had collapsed between them, sending sparks and debris flying. Now, Simon was alone, surrounded by heat and chaos, his heart racing so hard it felt like it would burst out of his chest.

"Baz!" he tried again, louder this time, but all he got in return was the crackle of burning wood and the groaning of the building threatening to collapse.

He had to find him. He had to. The thought of Baz trapped somewhere in this inferno, hurt or worse—it was too much to bear. The panic in Simon's chest was clawing at his throat, turning every breath into a struggle. He'd lost too many people, and he wasn't going to lose Baz too. Not now. Not ever.

Simon lunged forward, pushing through the smoke, his eyes watering and his lungs screaming. He could barely see, but he kept moving, ignoring the blistering heat that licked at his skin. He didn't care if he got burned. He didn't care if he got buried in the rubble. All that mattered was finding Baz.

"Baz, where are you?" he called again, coughing as the smoke filled his lungs. He could feel his magic thrumming under his skin, desperate to get out, but the words for any useful spell wouldn't come. His mind was too full of panic, of fear.

And then he heard it—just faintly, over the roar of the fire. A cough, a choke, and then a familiar voice, weak but unmistakable.

"Snow..."

Simon's heart leapt. "Baz! I'm coming!" He turned towards the sound, stumbling over a fallen beam. The heat was nearly unbearable now, the flames so close they were searing the edges of his clothes. But he kept moving, following the sound of Baz's voice like a lifeline.

He rounded a corner and finally saw him: Baz was pinned under a heavy wooden beam, struggling to lift it off his leg. His face was smeared with ash, his usually perfect hair a wild, singed mess. But he was alive, and for one moment, relief flooded Simon so powerfully he almost collapsed on the spot.

"Baz!" Simon gasped, scrambling to his side. "Hold on, I've got you."

Baz looked up, his gray eyes sharp even through the haze of pain. "About time," he rasped, but his voice was weak, and Simon's heart clenched at the sight of him struggling to keep his breaths steady.

Simon ignored the jab and threw himself at the beam, trying to lift it. But it was too heavy, and his hands were slippery with sweat and grime. "Dammit," he muttered, frustration making his vision blur. He couldn't let Baz die here. He wouldn't.

"Snow," Baz said, his voice softer now. "You need to get out. Leave me."

"Shut up," Simon snapped, his voice breaking. "I'm not leaving you. Not ever."

Baz's eyes softened, just for a moment, and Simon's heart twisted painfully. "You always were the stubborn one," Baz muttered, but his voice was barely more than a whisper.

Simon swallowed hard, blinking back tears he didn't have time for. He had to think. He had to do something. His magic was still there, simmering under his skin, but he couldn't think of a single spell that would help.

And then it hit him.

"Hold on," he said, placing his hands on the beam and closing his eyes. He focused on the words he needed, pulling on every ounce of magic he had left in him. "Up, up, and away!"

There was a moment of stillness, like the entire world had paused to take a breath. And then, with a rush of power, the beam lifted off Baz, floating up just enough for Simon to shove it aside. He fell to his knees, panting, the effort of the spell leaving him lightheaded, but he didn't care. Baz was free.

"Come on, we have to move," Simon said, reaching down to help Baz to his feet. Baz winced, his leg buckling slightly, but he grabbed onto Simon's arm and let himself be pulled up.

The smoke was thicker now, almost choking them, but they had no time to rest. Simon wrapped an arm around Baz's waist, supporting his weight as they stumbled toward the nearest exit.

Baz's fingers dug into Simon's shoulder, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "You idiot," Baz whispered, his voice too soft for anyone else to hear. "You're going to get yourself killed."

Simon tightened his grip around Baz's waist, his jaw set. "Not without you," he whispered back fiercely.

The building groaned ominously, the fire raging hotter around them. They were almost at the door when a final crash echoed through the room, and the ceiling began to collapse. Simon felt a surge of panic, but he tightened his hold on Baz and pushed forward with every ounce of strength he had left.

"Open sesame!" Simon shouted, hoping the spell would work, and the door burst open in a shower of sparks.

They stumbled out into the cold night air, gasping as the rush of fresh oxygen hit them like a slap. The fire was still roaring behind them, but they were out. They were safe. For now.

Simon let go of Baz, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. But Baz caught him, pulling him close, and for a moment, they just stood there, holding onto each other like they were the only solid things left in the world.

"You reckless, ridiculous fool," Baz whispered, his voice shaking. "You could have died."

"So could you," Simon shot back, his voice cracking. "And I wasn't going to let that happen."

Baz looked at him, his eyes bright with something that made Simon's chest ache. And then, without another word, Baz leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Simon's, his breath hot and shaky against Simon's lips.

"Thank you," Baz whispered, so softly that Simon almost didn't hear it.

Simon just closed his eyes, letting himself lean into Baz's warmth, ignoring the pain in his lungs and the stinging in his eyes. In that moment, it didn't matter that they were both bruised and burned and exhausted. They were alive. And they had each other.

For now, that was enough.