Snowbaz Oneshots

You'll Be Just Fine (Just Don't Believe the Hype)

This started as something I was just writing for myself, and then it turned into a healing-centric piece I'm actually pretty proud of. I'm a little nervous about posting something more heavy deep and real than usual, but at the end of the day, I really wanted to put it out there. Huge thanks to this fandom for being so supportive 24/7. <3

Read as you see fit here- warnings for blood and injuries throughout. (Nothing is too graphic, but I didn't beat around the bush re: Baz's conditions.) Also, warnings for past self-harm and suicidal ideation. (Again, not too graphic, but please read safely. If you want to omit those parts altogether, stop reading at Day 4.) Let me know if something else needs to be mentioned! I promise there's also fluff in this, lol.

Title and opening lyric from "The Hype" by Twenty One Pilots.

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Simon

Sometimes I feel cold, even paralyzed...

Day 1 - 4:12pm

The drive is quiet.

Baz is passed out again. I want to shake him awake–you're not supposed to sleep when you're concussed, right?–but I'm kinda scared to touch him.

His lolled head leans off the headrest and towards me. I put his seat belt on earlier, but it looks like it's digging into his neck, which is wan and covered in flaky skin. I briefly consider just spelling the car to go forward and climbing into Baz's seat, holding him safe myself. For a longer period of time, I consider stopping the car altogether and getting out to puke.

Hotel. I just need to get to the hotel. I just need to...

An indeterminate period of time later (it got dark, somehow, but I can't tell you much else), I pull into the Marriott's lot. Baz requested this before he conked out again. He didn't want his family or school. He just wanted to regenerate in peace. With me, apparently.

Maybe he just knew I would've refused to leave him. I spent weeks hunting for him in the Wavering Wood and badgering his friends for information, I'm not stopping now that I've finally found him.

He's in no state to walk, so I pull Baz out of the rental car as gently as I can and carry him in my arms. The receptionist looks alarmed, but Baz chooses this moment to flit in and out of consciousness, curling into my chest. "Don't worry. We're on our honeymoon."

What the fuck? I glance down to demand an explanation, and–nope, he's back out. Why did I think I could do this? "He's hungover," I say to the woman behind the counter, wincing at the awkwardness. Hopefully she can't see the blood from here. My white lie seems to placate her, and I book it upstairs with our room key.

I'm the Chosen One–the Greatest Mage. That's why I thought I could do this...

And I'm Baz's roommate. And we're going to have to form a truce, once I tell him about his mum. So I need to at least try.

Day 1 - 6:02pm

"I can't believe you," I grunt at Baz as I get him situated on the king bed. "I can't believe I let you out of my sight for a month and this happens."

My voice cracks halfway through the sentence; I can't really help it. He looks awful.

I was the one who found Baz, thanks to the help of a hellhound (to sniff him out) and some tracking spells, both boosted by my wild magick. The decision came onto me suddenly this morning, as the weekend began and I realized: I couldn't take another day wondering where the bloody fuck he was.