Snowbaz one shots!

Under control

The air in the room felt thick, almost suffocating as Simon Snow faced off against the strange figure standing across from him. The man, dressed in dark robes, smirked at Simon with cold, calculating eyes. It was the first time they'd encountered him, but Simon could already feel the unease creeping up his spine.

"Come on, Simon," the man sneered. "Don't you want to show me just how powerful you are?"

Simon's stomach twisted. There was something unsettling about the figure. The man's eyes gleamed with a strange, unnatural intensity. Magic flickered in the air between them, sharp and ominous. He hadn't expected to encounter a sorcerer this dangerous so close to Watford.

But Simon didn't have time to think, because the moment the man's fingers twitched, the world around Simon began to blur. His breath caught in his throat as a strange pressure pressed down on his mind, slipping in through the cracks of his thoughts. A voice—deep, insistent—slithered through his mind, demanding his attention.

Obey me.

Simon shook his head, trying to push the intrusion away. He wasn't going to fall for this. He'd been through enough mind games over the years to recognize when something wasn't right. But the voice only grew louder, the pressure more intense, pushing against his thoughts until he could barely think at all.

Do what I say, Simon.

His vision flickered for a moment, but he blinked, trying to stay focused. But then the world tilted, and his hands moved without his consent. Before he knew it, his fists were clenched, his magic gathering around him, ready to explode.

The pressure in his mind surged, and he felt himself give way to it. His magic erupted uncontrollably—an explosion of raw, untamed power. The last thing Simon saw before his senses blurred was Baz, standing at the edge of the room, watching with wide eyes.

"Simon, no!" Baz shouted, but his voice sounded far away, muffled under the noise of Simon's chaotic magic.

It was too late.

Simon didn't even realize what had happened until the room was silent. He blinked, trying to clear the fog from his mind. The pressure that had been building in his head was gone, but the aftermath of his outburst wasn't.

His eyes snapped down to Baz, who was lying on the floor, a pained expression on his face. Simon's heart stopped in his chest. His chest tightened, the reality of what had just happened sinking in.

Baz.

Simon's stomach churned. He hadn't meant to. He hadn't wanted to hurt him. His magic was usually so precise, so controlled. But now Baz was lying there, his hand pressed against his chest, blood seeping through his fingers.

"Baz!" Simon shouted, falling to his knees beside him. His hands trembled as he reached for Baz, panic rising in his throat. "I didn't mean to. Baz, I'm so sorry."

Baz's eyes fluttered open, groggy but still conscious. His lips twisted into a weak smile, though the pain was obvious in his eyes. "Always... so dramatic, Snow," he muttered.

Simon's chest tightened further at the sight of the blood staining Baz's clothes. His heart was hammering in his chest as he summoned magic to heal Baz, but his hands were shaking too much to focus. He could barely think. His mind was still reeling from the control the other sorcerer had over him.

"I didn't... I didn't want to hurt you, Baz. Please, just—just stay with me." Simon's voice cracked as he tried to gather his magic, but it kept slipping from his grasp, his own emotions making it harder to concentrate.

Baz's eyes flickered with something—something too close to amusement, despite the obvious pain. He reached up weakly, brushing a few strands of Simon's hair out of his face. "I'm fine, Snow," he said softly. "Just a scratch."

"No!" Simon shook his head frantically. "It's more than a scratch, Baz. You're—" His voice broke again, and he felt the weight of the world pressing down on him. "I hurt you."

Baz's hand settled on his, stopping the frantic motion. "It's okay," Baz whispered, his voice hoarse but steady. "You didn't mean to. I know."

"But I—" Simon started, but the words were lodged in his throat. He looked down at the blood on Baz's chest again, his magic still stubbornly slipping away from him. "I need to fix this. I need to fix you."

Baz gave him a tired, but amused look. "You're going to have to try harder than that, Snow. But I know you'll manage."

Simon's heart was breaking. He didn't deserve someone like Baz, not after what had just happened. He was supposed to protect him, not hurt him. He tried again to concentrate on the magic, pushing past the guilt and the panic threatening to overwhelm him. This time, he succeeded. A pulse of light spread from his hands, and Simon felt the familiar warmth of healing magic sink into Baz's skin.

The blood on Baz's chest started to slow, then stop, the wound knitting back together as Simon focused harder. Slowly, with each second that passed, Baz's color returned to normal, and the pain on his face faded.

When the healing was finally done, Simon collapsed beside him, his legs weak with relief. Baz blinked up at him, his expression still faintly amused but softened by something deeper—understanding, maybe.

"You're not bad at this healing thing," Baz said quietly, his voice still rough, but teasing.

"I almost killed you," Simon whispered, shaking his head. "I hurt you. I nearly... I could've... you could've..."

Baz's hand found his again, squeezing it lightly. "I know you didn't mean it, Simon." His gaze softened, and there was something like affection in his eyes. "I trust you."

Simon looked up at him, meeting Baz's eyes. "I won't let anyone control me like that again. I swear."

Baz smiled, the usual mischief returning to his face despite everything. "Well, good. Because I'm not sure how I'd handle an angry Simon Snow coming at me again."

Simon let out a breath of relief, his own smile creeping onto his lips despite everything. "I'll make sure that never happens again. No more mind control, no more accidents."

"I'm not worried," Baz said softly, his hand still holding Simon's, his thumb gently rubbing the back of his hand. "I know you'll never hurt me on purpose."

Simon's heart swelled, a rush of warmth filling him. He couldn't explain it, but being with Baz, knowing that even in moments of chaos and control, Baz trusted him—that meant everything.

"Thank you," Simon whispered, still unable to shake the guilt, but feeling a little lighter knowing that Baz was okay.

Baz's smile was soft now, his eyes full of something Simon didn't quite understand, but it made his chest flutter. "Always, Snow."

And for once, the world felt like it was back in its proper place.