Snowbaz one shots!

Breathe

It was just another evening in Watford's common room. Simon, Baz, Penny, and Agatha were sprawled out on the couches, chatting idly about their latest magical mishaps. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow that filled the room with a soft light, and the sounds of their laughter echoed in the walls. For once, everything felt calm, almost serene.

But Simon knew better than to take peace for granted.

He was sitting next to Baz, who had his legs stretched out, his head leaning against the armrest of the couch. Baz's posture was relaxed, but Simon was aware of the slight tension in his shoulders. He'd been that way all evening, quieter than usual, like he was trying to disappear into the background. Simon could sense that something wasn't quite right. The air around Baz seemed to hum with something Simon couldn't quite place.

And then, suddenly, it all shifted.

Baz's breath hitched. It was so subtle at first, barely noticeable against the soft chatter of the group. But then it grew. Simon's eyes flicked over to him, noticing the way Baz's hands, usually so steady, were trembling, gripping the edge of the couch like it might suddenly disappear beneath him.

Simon's heart skipped a beat.

"Baz?" he said, voice low but concerned.

Baz didn't answer. He didn't even seem to hear Simon, his eyes wide, distant, unfocused. The usual cool and collected vampire was gone, replaced by someone Simon didn't recognize. His breathing became faster, shallow gasps that made Simon's chest tighten in sympathy.

"Baz," Simon repeated, more urgently now. "Baz, look at me."

Baz's eyes flicked toward him, but they were glazed over, unfocused, like he was trapped inside his own mind. His breathing was ragged now, coming in short, sharp gasps. Simon could see the panic written all over his face, and his stomach twisted painfully. He knew what this was.

Panic attacks.

Simon had seen Baz struggle with them before, but never like this. They'd always been small moments, quick bursts of anxiety that Baz hid well behind his usual sharp wit and indifference. But now, Simon could see the storm inside Baz—the overwhelming fear and the inability to control it.

"Baz, hey," Simon said, moving closer, his voice softer. He gently touched Baz's arm, feeling the tension that coiled there. "You're okay. You're safe."

Baz didn't respond, his breath quickening with each passing second. Simon could feel the magic in the air, the electricity between them, but it wasn't helping. This wasn't something Simon could fight with magic. This wasn't something that could be fixed with a spell.

Simon had to think, had to do something.

"Okay," Simon whispered to himself, his mind racing. He'd been through moments of panic before. He'd had his own share of moments where everything felt too big, too much, too fast. He'd been on the receiving end of panic and anxiety, and while it wasn't the same for everyone, he knew one thing: calm needed to come first. Connection needed to come first.

He slowly reached out, pulling Baz's hand away from the couch, gently holding it between both of his. "Baz, listen to me," Simon said, his voice soft but firm, locking eyes with him. "You're okay. Breathe with me. Focus on me."

Baz's eyes flickered, but they didn't focus. He was still trapped, still fighting against the feeling that had overtaken him. But Simon didn't pull away. He held on, his own pulse steadying as he focused on Baz, the one person he couldn't afford to lose.

"I know it's hard," Simon continued, his voice a steady anchor in the storm. "But you can do this. I'm right here with you. You're not alone. Just breathe with me, okay?"

Baz's hand trembled in Simon's, but Simon could feel it slowly calming. Simon guided Baz's hand to his chest, trying to ground him, focusing on their breaths. "Breathe in," Simon said, gently, pulling in a deep breath himself. "And out. Just like that. In. Out."

It was slow at first. Baz's chest was still rising and falling too quickly, the panic still clawing at him. But Simon didn't give up. He stayed close, watching him with nothing but concern and care. Every few seconds, he would repeat the rhythm, guiding Baz, matching his breathing.

"Breathe with me," Simon repeated. "In and out. You can do it, Baz. You've got this."

For a long moment, it felt like nothing changed. But then, ever so slowly, Simon noticed a shift. Baz's gasps grew less frantic, the sharpness of his breath softening just a fraction. His hand, still held tightly by Simon, stopped trembling so violently.

"Good," Simon murmured, offering a soft, encouraging smile. "You're doing great, Baz."

It felt like an eternity before Baz's breathing began to slow, before the panic loosened its grip on him. His body, still tense, was finally starting to relax, and Simon felt a small, relieved breath of his own escape him.

"Simon..." Baz's voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, and Simon looked up to see Baz's eyes, finally focused but still a little hazy. "I... I'm sorry."

Simon's heart squeezed, and he shook his head quickly. "Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. You're okay. I've got you."

Baz closed his eyes for a moment, his head falling back against the couch. His breath had slowed, though it was still shallow. The tremors in his hand had stopped, and Simon was sure the worst of it had passed. He stayed close, letting the silence hang between them for a few seconds, the calm settling back into the room.

Finally, Baz cracked an eye open, looking at Simon. The vulnerability in his gaze almost took Simon's breath away.

"I hate that," Baz murmured, his voice still faint with exhaustion. "I hate not being able to control it."

Simon smiled softly, brushing a strand of Baz's hair back from his face. "It's okay, Baz. You don't always have to control everything. Not with me. You don't have to hide from me. I'm not going anywhere."

Baz looked at him, his eyes softening. For a moment, the world outside the room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them, together.

"Thank you," Baz whispered, his voice quiet and sincere.

Simon leaned forward, his forehead gently resting against Baz's. "Always, Baz. I'm always going to be here."

And as Baz's breath steadied, and Simon felt the weight of the moment lift from both of them, he knew that there was nothing—no fear, no panic—that could come between them now. They were stronger together.