Snowbaz one shots!

Safe in the dark

The dormitory was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of sheets or the soft hum of the wind outside. The flickering light from the hallway seeped under Simon's door, casting shadows on the walls that twisted and shifted as though they had a life of their own. He lay awake, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, his body tense.

The nightmare still clung to him, the remnants of it like a shadow in his mind, a heavy weight that he couldn't shake off. His breathing was too fast, his heart pounding as if the danger from his dream was still real.

He had been back at Watford for a week, settling into the usual rhythm of the term. But that didn't stop the nightmares. They always came when he least expected it. Dark, suffocating, filled with voices calling his name, with shadows chasing him down, with fire that burned and screamed. And then there was the feeling of losing control—of the magic slipping away from him, of everything around him crumbling and falling apart.

This time, he had woken up with a start, his heart hammering in his chest, sweat soaking his sheets. He had pushed himself out of bed, his mind still caught in the dream, trying to pull himself together. He hadn't wanted to wake anyone, especially not Baz.

But the terror didn't leave him. He could still feel the fear crawling under his skin, the darkness pressing in from all sides.

He glanced over at his clock, the red numbers mocking him in the stillness of the night. It was late. Baz would be asleep by now. But... the thought of lying in that cold, empty bed alone made his stomach twist.

He bit his lip, uncertainty swirling in his chest. He couldn't let this go on. He needed to feel safe again, needed to know that everything was still okay.

Simon swung his legs over the side of his bed and sat still for a moment, his head heavy with the remnants of the nightmare. Then, with a deep breath, he grabbed his pillow and threw on his robe, the fabric brushing his legs as he walked toward Baz's door.

He paused, hand hovering over the doorknob. He was nervous. He had never done something like this before—he'd never asked to sleep in someone else's bed. Not even when he'd been younger, not when he'd been terrified of the monsters lurking in the corners of his room.

But this was Baz. The one person who knew him, really knew him, even if they had their differences. The one person who had never been scared of Simon's magic, or the nightmares that came with it. Maybe... just maybe, Baz wouldn't judge him for needing someone tonight.

With a shaky breath, he knocked softly on Baz's door.

There was a pause, then the sound of shifting blankets. "What?" Baz's voice was muffled, sleep-heavy, but Simon heard the irritation laced in it anyway. Baz wasn't a morning person, even if it was the middle of the night.

"It's me," Simon said, his voice rough, almost embarrassed. "Can I... Can I come in?"

Baz didn't respond immediately. Simon's stomach twisted, and he almost turned away, convinced Baz would tell him to go back to his own bed.

But then, after what felt like forever, the door creaked open. Baz stood there in his pajamas, looking half-dazed but still somehow effortlessly handsome, even with sleep still clinging to his features.

"What do you want, Snow?" Baz asked, voice still thick with sleep, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes now. Simon's heart skipped at the softening in Baz's expression.

"I... I had a nightmare," Simon muttered, looking down at his feet. "I don't want to be alone."

Baz's gaze softened further, his usual sharpness melting away. He stepped aside and opened the door wider, wordlessly inviting Simon in.

"Come on then, Snow. Get in here before you wake up the whole dorm," Baz said, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, though there was an undertone of something more serious behind his words.

Simon didn't hesitate. He walked in, his heart pounding, and sat down at the edge of Baz's bed. Baz was already pulling the covers back, making room for Simon without question, and Simon felt his anxiety loosen slightly at the simple, unspoken gesture.

He climbed into the bed, curling up on his side, and to his relief, Baz didn't seem bothered. The warmth of the sheets felt comforting, and as soon as Simon sank into them, his body seemed to finally relax, the tightness in his chest beginning to ease.

He wasn't sure how long they lay there in silence, Simon trying to calm his breathing and Baz simply watching him, though Simon couldn't meet his gaze. His mind was still tangled with the fear from the nightmare, but the weight of Baz beside him—solid and real—helped steady him.

After a few moments, Baz shifted, his voice low and steady. "You know, Snow, you don't have to do this alone."

Simon looked up at him, surprised by the softness in his voice. Baz wasn't the type to offer comfort. At least, not directly. But tonight, there was a different edge to his tone, something that made Simon feel less like an inconvenience and more like someone worth looking after.

"I'm not alone," Simon whispered, his voice quiet, like he didn't want to say it too loud. "Not with you."

Baz didn't say anything for a moment. Then, with a small sigh, he settled back against the pillow, his body close to Simon's. They weren't touching—Simon couldn't bring himself to get too close—but Baz's presence was enough. It was like a shield against the shadows in Simon's mind, the reminder that there was something solid in the world, something that wasn't broken.

"Go to sleep, Snow," Baz murmured. "You're safe here."

Simon closed his eyes, feeling the tension finally begin to melt away. The warmth of the blankets, the steady rhythm of Baz's breathing beside him, and the quiet lull of the night were the things he needed to hear, the things that made him feel like he wasn't completely alone in the world.

And as the minutes passed, Simon let the darkness pull him under again, this time without the terror of nightmares chasing him. For once, he was able to sleep soundly, knowing that he didn't have to face the dark alone.