Snowbaz one shots!

Flames and fury

The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke, and the heat was unbearable. Simon's eyes stung as he stumbled through the underbrush, trying to see through the billowing plumes of fire that were quickly turning the forest into an inferno.

"Baz!" he shouted, but his voice was swallowed by the roar of the flames.

Everything was chaos. They'd been ambushed by the numpties—horrible, sucking creatures that fed on magic, reducing it to a dry, useless husk. It had started as just another fight, Simon with his sword flashing in the afternoon light, and Baz hurling fireballs with that practiced flick of his wrist. But it had quickly spiraled out of control.

Baz had gone wild, summoning a wall of fire to drive the numpties back. But now the flames were spreading, hungrily devouring the dry leaves and branches, turning the forest into a furnace. Simon could barely breathe, every gasp of air searing his lungs.

"Snow!" Baz's voice cut through the crackle of flames, harsh and commanding. Simon turned just in time to see Baz emerge through the smoke, his face streaked with soot, his eyes wild and desperate.

"Baz, we need to get out of here!" Simon shouted, his voice raw. "The whole forest is going up!"

But Baz wasn't listening. His gaze was locked on Simon, something fierce and pained in his expression. "I can't let them take you, Simon," Baz said, his voice breaking on Simon's name.

"What are you talking about?" Simon's brow furrowed in confusion. "We can fight them off together! We always do!"

But Baz's jaw was set, his eyes glittering like steel. The flames around them were closing in, the heat so intense it felt like Simon's skin might blister. And then, before Simon could react, Baz raised his wand, his voice steady and resolute as he shouted, "Up, up, and away!"

There was a flash of light, and then the ground vanished from beneath Simon's feet. For a brief, terrifying moment, he was weightless, the world spinning around him. Then, with a bone-jarring thud, he hit solid ground. The air was suddenly cooler, the roar of the fire replaced by the quiet rustle of leaves.

Simon lay there, gasping, his vision swimming as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He was in another part of the forest, far from the blazing inferno. Baz had teleported him away.

"No," Simon breathed, a cold dread pooling in his stomach. "No, no, no."

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the way his legs shook beneath him. Baz was still back there, alone, in that burning forest. He'd sent Simon away to keep him safe, but now he was trapped.

"Baz!" Simon screamed, even though he knew Baz couldn't hear him. Panic surged through him like a cold wave, washing away any lingering dizziness. He had to get back. He had to find Baz.

But he had no idea where he was. The teleportation spell had flung him somewhere far from the fight, and all he could see were trees and shadows. Simon's magic was unpredictable at the best of times, and now, with his heart racing and fear clawing at his throat, he didn't trust himself to try teleporting back.

"Think, Simon, think," he muttered to himself, his voice trembling. He needed to find a way to get to Baz before it was too late. But as he turned in a frantic circle, trying to find some landmark, some clue, he realized he was completely, utterly lost.

And then, like a miracle, he heard it—a faint crackling in the distance, the telltale sound of flames devouring everything in their path. Simon's heart leapt, and he started running toward the sound, crashing through the underbrush, ignoring the branches that tore at his clothes and the roots that tried to trip him.

As he ran, his mind was filled with a single, desperate thought: Please let him be okay. Please, please, please.

The fire loomed closer, the sky above glowing an angry orange. Sweat dripped down Simon's face, but he didn't stop. He couldn't. And then, through the thick haze of smoke, he saw him—Baz, his tall silhouette framed against the wall of flames.

"Baz!" Simon yelled, relief and terror warring in his chest.

Baz turned, his face streaked with ash, his usually impeccable hair wild and disheveled. He looked exhausted, barely standing, but his eyes lit up with surprise when he saw Simon.

"Snow? What the hell are you doing here?" Baz shouted over the roar of the fire.

"You didn't think I'd just leave you, did you?" Simon shot back, panting as he stumbled closer. "I'm not going anywhere without you."

Baz's expression twisted, half fury, half something softer that Simon couldn't quite place. "I sent you away to save you!" Baz snapped. "You weren't supposed to come back."

"Well, too bad!" Simon yelled. "I'm not letting you burn yourself to a crisp just because you're too stubborn to accept help."

For a second, it looked like Baz might argue, but then his shoulders slumped. "Idiot," he muttered, though there was no heat in his words. "We're both going to die here if we don't get out."

Simon reached him, grabbing Baz's arm. "Then let's go. Together."

Baz hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the numpties that were still lurking beyond the flames, kept at bay by the ring of fire he'd conjured. But Simon could see that Baz was wavering, exhaustion etched into every line of his body.

"Baz," Simon said, his voice low and urgent. "We can fight another day. But only if we survive this."

Baz's eyes locked with Simon's, and for a moment, it was like the rest of the world fell away. It was just the two of them, standing together in the middle of a burning forest, as if they were the only two people left in the world.

Then Baz nodded, a single, sharp motion. "All right. Hold on to me," he said, his voice rough.

Simon didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed Baz's hand, squeezing it tight. Baz raised his wand, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. "Up, up, and away!"

The world blurred around them, and Simon felt that same stomach-flipping sensation of teleportation. But this time, he didn't care. He kept his eyes locked on Baz, trusting him to get them out.

When they landed, they were on a hillside, far enough away that the fire was just a distant glow. Simon stumbled but kept his grip on Baz's hand, refusing to let go.

Baz was panting, leaning heavily against Simon. "You... you absolute idiot," he muttered, but there was no real anger in his voice. "You could have gotten yourself killed."

Simon let out a shaky laugh, his chest heaving. "Yeah, well... you're stuck with me."

Baz looked at him, and despite everything—the smoke, the sweat, the exhaustion—there was something like a smile in his eyes. "Lucky me."

Simon reached out, brushing a smudge of soot from Baz's cheek. "Yeah," he said softly. "Lucky us."

For once, Baz didn't argue. He just leaned in, resting his forehead against Simon's, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. And for a moment, the world was quiet again.

They were safe. Together.