Snowbaz one shots!

Vanishing act-part 2

Simon tore through the night sky like a bullet, wings slicing through the air with renewed purpose. The faint pulse of Baz's magic tugged at his senses, a flickering ember in the suffocating darkness. He focused on that thin thread like it was the only thing keeping him alive. Maybe it was.

The world below was a blur of city lights and darkened alleys, but Simon barely noticed. His mind was consumed with a single thought: Find him. Find Baz. He couldn't let himself think about the last moments they had shared—about the cruel, biting words and the hurt that had flashed across Baz's eyes. That didn't matter now. All that mattered was getting him back.

As he flew, the pulse of Baz's magic grew stronger, steadier. It was like a lifeline, guiding him through the labyrinth of the city. But every second felt like an eternity, and Simon's thoughts kept racing ahead, imagining all the things that could be happening to Baz right now.

Simon pushed those thoughts down, focusing instead on the rhythmic beat of his wings and the faint thrum of Baz's magic. The pull led him to the edge of the city, where the streetlights gave way to darkened warehouses and abandoned factories. The place was a graveyard of rusted metal and shattered glass, the perfect hiding spot for whoever had taken Baz.

He landed on the rooftop of an old factory, crouching low as he scanned the area below. The pull of Baz's magic was stronger now, so close that it sent a shiver down Simon's spine. He could feel Baz's presence, faint but alive.

"Hang on, Baz," Simon whispered, his heart pounding. "I'm almost there."

The entrance to the factory loomed below, its heavy iron doors cracked open just enough for someone to slip through. Simon's wings folded against his back as he dropped silently to the ground, every muscle tense. He slipped through the gap, the darkness swallowing him whole.

Inside, the air was thick with dust and the scent of old machinery. The only sound was the distant drip of water and the echo of Simon's footsteps as he crept forward. The pulse of Baz's magic was stronger now, a steady beat that thrummed in his bones.

He rounded a corner and froze. There, at the far end of a cavernous room, was Baz.

He was on his knees, his hands bound behind him with ropes that glimmered faintly with enchantment. His usually perfect hair was disheveled, his shirt torn, but his eyes—sharp and defiant as ever—were fixed on the figure standing over him.

A man in a dark cloak, his face obscured by shadows, was muttering under his breath. Simon couldn't make out the words, but he could feel the magic coiling around him, dark and menacing. The air seemed to hum with it, crackling like static electricity.

Simon's blood ran cold. He didn't know what the man was planning, but he knew one thing: he had to stop it, and fast.

"Let him go!" Simon's voice cut through the air like a whip, raw and desperate.

The figure turned, eyes gleaming in the dim light, and a cold smile spread across his face. "Ah, the Chosen One," he said, his voice like oil. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Baz's eyes widened in shock. "Simon, no! Get out of here, you idiot!"

But Simon was already moving. He charged forward, wings flaring out behind him like a storm. The man's smile twisted into a snarl, and with a flick of his wrist, tendrils of dark magic shot toward Simon like a swarm of angry snakes.

Simon dodged to the side, his wings beating hard to keep him aloft. He darted around the tendrils, trying to close the distance between him and Baz. But the man's magic was relentless, each strike coming faster than the last. Simon could feel the burn of it on his skin, but he pressed on, driven by the desperate need to reach Baz.

"Simon, stop!" Baz shouted, his voice raw. "It's a trap!"

Simon knew it was a trap. He knew he was walking right into it. But what choice did he have? He couldn't leave Baz here. He couldn't abandon him—not after everything.

With a final burst of speed, Simon ducked under the man's outstretched arm and reached Baz's side. He grabbed the ropes binding Baz's hands, trying to tear them free. They were enchanted, cold and unyielding beneath his fingers.

"Hold still," Simon muttered, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Simon, you absolute dolt," Baz hissed, his voice cracking with something that almost sounded like relief. "You shouldn't have come."

"Yeah, well, too bad," Simon shot back. "I'm not leaving you."

Baz's eyes softened for the briefest moment, but then the man's laughter echoed through the room, low and mocking. "How touching," he sneered. "But you're too late."

Before Simon could react, the man raised his hands, and the shadows around them exploded in a burst of dark magic. It hit Simon like a tidal wave, sending him flying backward. He crashed into the wall with a sickening thud, his wings crumpling beneath him.

"Simon!" Baz's voice was a desperate scream.

Dazed, Simon tried to push himself up, but his limbs felt heavy, his vision blurring at the edges. The man was chanting again, dark tendrils of magic snaking their way toward Baz, who was still bound and defenseless.

"No," Simon rasped, forcing himself to his feet. His body screamed in protest, but he ignored it. He couldn't give up now. He wouldn't.

Summoning every ounce of strength he had left, Simon charged forward, wings unfurling behind him in a last, desperate burst of power. He barreled into the man, sending him crashing to the ground. The dark magic faltered, the tendrils dissolving into smoke.

Simon didn't wait. He grabbed the ropes binding Baz and yanked with all his strength. This time, they snapped, and Baz was free.

"Come on," Simon gasped, grabbing Baz's arm. "We have to go."

Baz was on his feet in an instant, pulling Simon toward the exit. But the man was already recovering, his eyes blazing with fury.

"You won't escape!" he roared, his hands crackling with magic.

But Simon didn't look back. With Baz's hand in his, he sprinted for the door, wings beating furiously. The darkness closed in behind them, but Simon's grip on Baz was unbreakable.

Together, they burst into the cold night air, the roar of magic fading behind them. They didn't stop running until they were far from the factory, gasping for breath, their hearts pounding in unison.

Baz turned to Simon, eyes wide, searching his face. "Why did you come back?" he asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

Simon looked at him, his own breath ragged, and for once, he didn't hesitate. "Because I couldn't lose you," he said simply. "Not now. Not ever."

For a moment, Baz just stared at him, his usual sharp retorts lost in the chaos of the night. And then, in the darkness, Baz reached out and pulled Simon close, his arms tight and unyielding.

"Don't ever do that again, Snow," Baz whispered, his voice trembling. "I can't lose you either."

And for once, Simon didn't argue.