Snowbaz Oneshots

(There's Not Many Differences Between) The Day and the Night

This is just a little something from my personal collection of drabbles/writing exercises that I dug up cos I thought it was decent enough to get posted, haha. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Picture this as around a year after AWTWB takes place, I suppose? I imagined it vaguely in that area of time. Simon's POV.

Read as you see fit here- warnings for nightmares, memories of the Mage (he's kinda his own warning y'know), mild language, and some dealing with grief and/or trauma. I'd consider this mostly light and fluffy, no worse than AWTWB, but please read safe and at your own discretion!

I'm trapped in my dream.

Again.

This happens a lot, and I hate it each time. Whether I'm reliving a past event or dreaming up a new one, if it's a nightmare, it's inescapable.

Tonight's theme is Davy. I see him clearly on the Watford grounds, roaming around the buildings and sitting at the head table in the dining hall. These could easily be memories. They look like exact replicas of what used to be my everyday routines.

One thing is glaringly different, though, in the way that he looks. He appears before me like he did that night: his face is cut by the glass, his suit is ripped and muddied, and his lips are twisted into a furious snarl.

He's everywhere I go in this dream, looming over my shoulder.

I startle awake before things can get too disturbing. I'm suddenly not at Watford anymore- I'm in our flat, lying under the covers, breathing heavily.

Baz is curled up next to me, breathing steadily. Thank God I didn't wake him up. He rarely gets a good night's sleep, between comforting me after my nightmares, dealing with his own, or staying up and chipping away at uni work.

He's been endlessly supportive about any and every weird vision my brain creates. I'll wake up shaking or crying, and he's there, always open and accepting of whatever I need to feel.

He's the one who suggested the whole Davy thing, too, after a particularly bad dream I had a few months ago.

He doesn't have to be The Mage to us anymore, he told me. He doesn't have to have that power over us. He's just Davy. He was just a person. A super magical and slightly evil person, yes, but just a person.

(He says silly, lighthearted stuff like that- super magical, slightly evil - to keep the mood away from anything too stifling. Both of our true feelings are much heavier, and he knows I need a good laugh or smile when I'm feeling shaken.)

Anyway, I'd liked the idea. And it's stuck so far. It's helpful when I need to differentiate things or work through painful memories (or so my therapist says). That night was months ago, though. And it was obvious how wiped Baz and I both were the next morning.

I slip out of bed and ease the soles of my feet onto the floor. I'm trying to be as quiet as possible. It would suck if I went to go sleep in the living room so as to not wake Baz with another nightmare and then ended up disrupting his sleep with squeaky floorboards.

It doesn't take me long to drift off on the couch, albeit uneasily. And, because my brain is apparently a vindictive dick that can't let something go, my dreams pick right back up again.

They're not the exact same. I can sense the tonal shift. Lots more running this time, and less being followed and chased. It feels like I'm somewhere in Seventh or Eighth year, and I'm looking for Davy, even though I know he's gone again, off on another mission. Then I'm looking for Baz, even though I know he's stuck somewhere far away from me and won't come back for weeks.