wiped out! - snowbaz

8 - simon

lucy beckons simon into the kitchen. she's holding her phone and is trying to conceal a grim expression.

"so- uh... mr. grimm said that baz can... stay here for as long as he likes."

"what did he actually say?"

"he- uh- well... he said that baz isn't welcome there any more, and that we can keep him. so..."

simon puts his head in his hands.

"i'm going to have to call a social worker, you know. and school... i really don't think baz is fit to go to school this week. you can stay with him."

simon is too anxious to be excited at the prospect of time off school. he turns on his phone and sends a long text to penny, explaining that baz is safe, they won't be in school for the rest of the week, and that he'll tell her more when he can. when baz is ready.

simon wanders back into the lounge to tell baz everything. but baz is fast asleep. he's tucked into a tiny ball with his arms wrapped around his knees and his head resting on a pile of ironed shirts. he looks so peaceful, so... soft. and so small. simon doesn't want to look away, but the silence in the room magnifies his fears and he sits down, trying to sort through them in his head.

who knows what could happen to baz... he could be taken into care, or fostered, or even sent back to live with the grimms... they might not see each other again. the thought is almost unbearable.

simon runs his hand through his hair and stands up, draping a blanket over baz's frail body.

-----

baz is considerably more cheerful the next morning. he wakes late and pads into the kitchen, running his hand through tangled black hair and yawning.

"snow, don't we have school?"

"nope."

"why not?"

simon raises an eyebrow.

"because... isn't it obvious? anyway, that's irrelevant. we have an entire day to watch box sets and eat ice cream, so let's just do that. did you bring spare clothes?"

"...no," baz whispers. he's gone back to being a quiet little mouse again. maybe simon needs to change tack.

"let's see if we can find you some."

simon takes baz's hand and leads him upstairs to his room. it's still as messy as it was 48 hours ago, but he picks his way through the debris and opens the wardrobe. there's a pair of green football shorts from simon's old school that would probably fit baz, and there's a chunky black sweater that lucy has banned him from leaving the house in because it's too big for him.

"how are these?"

baz nods and takes the clothes. simon leaves the room and goes downstairs to hunt for some breakfast. he isn't a very good host, really. he finds some eggs and starts making an omelette, cutting up strips of ham and bits of slightly sweaty cheese and sloppily dropping them all into the frying pan.

baz comes downstairs twenty minutes later, his hair damp, looking painfully self conscious in the bright green shorts.

"what did you make?"

"omelette," simon replies, sliding a slice of greasy egg onto a plate with a few tomatoes. "how hungry are you? how's this?" he pushes the plate towards baz. baz nods.

"thank you."

-----

they're stretched out on the small sofa, knees almost touching. the television is on, and they're watching sherlock. simon can definitely see the appeal.

simon kinda likes caring for baz. he feels like he's doing something good for once. they've only known each other for a couple of months, but simon feels like he's been friends with baz forever. he can barely remember a time before.

maybe that's a good thing.

the episode ends and they sit back, watching the credits roll. baz smiles at him, all the sharp edges and dark lines gone from his face. he's so soft, and simon just wants to take away all the bad stuff so that they're surrounded by good all the time. baz doesn't deserve this shit.

-----

later that day, lucy arrives carrying a dominoes takeaway box and a bottle of coca cola. she sees baz smiling at her and grins back.

"i got delivery!"

baz and simon glance at each other and burst out laughing.

"it's not delivery, it's digiorno!"

simon feels like it's going to be okay. there's pizza on the table and a smile on baz's face. what could go wrong?

as it turns out, quite a lot.

lucy is halfway through her third slice of pizza when the phone rings. she stands up to answer it, and as soon as the receiver is against her ear, her expression darkens.

"hello, mr. grimm. um- no... baz isn't available right now, can i call you back? oh-"

but the next few venomous words can still be heard. baz shrinks down on his seat, all traces of smiling and laughter gone.

simon swears, right then and there, that he will make baz happy again.

-----

he looks so lost.

baz sits on the floor next to simon's bed, staring at the ground and absentmindedly picking at the carpet.

simon just wants to hug him again, hold his hand, reassure him that it's okay now, he's safe.

but he doesn't know how. he leans forward and gently takes hold of baz's face with his hands.

"let me help you."

another tear rolls down baz's pale cheek. there are too many tears. simon just wants to wipe them all away. he pushes their foreheads together.

"please. let me make it all okay."

"it will never be okay," baz croaks. "i'm sorry."

"hey," simon whispers. they're so close together that he can hear baz's shaky breathing, can feel it on his cheeks. "please don't cry. this isn't your fault. we're going to fix it. you're going to be okay."

baz sighs softly. another tear drips onto the carpet.

"let me help you."

simon feels baz's eyelashes flutter against his cheek. their noses touch.

"please."

simon's eyes close. baz's lips brush his.