Disclaimer: Rainbow Rowell owns the characters and the session, and Mathmagician of AO3 is the creator of this expression of them.
A/N: This is a spinoff of a brilliant fic called "Carry Me Home" by Mathmagician. Here's what you need to know: It's canon-divergent. Baz and Simon became friends and then boyfriends over the course of the first half of their eighth year at Watford. At the point where this story is set, Baz, Simon, and Penny are staying at Watford over Christmas to try to solve Natasha's murder; they've just been to visit the coffin where Baz was kept over the summer, and Baz had a panic attack there. You can probably get through this fic knowing just that, but I'd highly recommend reading "Carry Me Home" in its entirety.
TW: This fic contains suicidal thoughts. If you think reading this fic will make you feel worse, please don't read it. And if you're suicidal, please reach out for help.
BAZ
I am weak. I am pathetic. He can't possibly love me, but he's such a good person that I'm almost certain he won't leave me unless I tell him to. I can barely get the words out, but somehow I manage to say, "I think it would be better if we broke up."
He gasps, but then he says, "If that's what you want, Baz."
I want to tell him I'm doing this for him, but he probably won't leave unless he thinks he's doing me a favor, so I say, "Yes, Snow."
"Okay, then," he says. I must be imagining the pain and sorrow in his voice. I curl up on my side and try to fall asleep without him next to me for the first time in months. I hate this, but it's for his own good.
SIMON
I can't cry. I can't let him know this is hard for me. He's such a good person that he would probably take me back if I let on that I'm hurting. I have to be strong. For him. I have to give him a clean break.
BAZ
It's been two days. Simon, Bunce, and I have discussed who killed my mother and tried to make plans, but it's hard to focus on anything knowing that Simon isn't mine anymore. This is for his own good. I keep reminding myself of that. But it still hurts like nothing has in over ten years.
Simon is out of the room with Bunce, and I find myself sitting down on my bed. I haven't let myself cry in the last two days in case Simon caught me and took me back, but I can't help letting the tears leak out now. Soon I'm sobbing, and it's hard to get air in. And then I remember I can make fire. I can end this all. Now I know for certain that I'll never have Simon, and I know what I've lost. What is there to live for, really? My mother is dead, my father is disgusted with me, the love of my life is no longer my boyfriend, and my grades are shot given everything that happened in September and October. I light a fire in my palm and let it burn there.
I'm debating whether to touch the flame when the door opens. I can only see Simon blurrily, since I'm crying, but his eyes look red. I'm probably imagining it.
"Baz, what—" he says, but his voice breaks and then he's sobbing. My heart breaks at the sound. Have I miscalculated? Did he really love me? Does he still? I put the flame out and hold my arms open for him.
SIMON
After two days of hoping Baz would change his mind, I finally tell Penny what happened. Trixie is spending the night in Keris's room, so Penny and I have some privacy. We sit on her bed and I cry in her arms and tell her I thought Baz loved me, and how much it hurts that he doesn't. I almost ask to spend the night, but I can't work up the courage, so I head back to Mummer's House, still crying a bit. I hope Baz will be asleep when I get to our room, because I really can't camouflage how much of of a wreck I am right now.
I open the door to our room and see the scariest sight I have ever seen, and my life hasn't exactly been a picnic. Baz is sitting on his bed with a flame in his hand. Baz. My beloved flammable vampire.
"Baz, what—" I start to say, and then, to my embarrassment, I'm sobbing. My vision is blurry from the tears, but I can still see that the light in his hand goes out and he opens his arms. He can't really want to hold me, but I suppose we did a lot of cuddling while we were just friends, so maybe he's willing to offer that again. I manage to say, "May I?"
"Please, Snow," he says, and his voice is just as wobbly as mine.
I stumble to his bed and fall into his arms, curling up into a ball as he holds me. We both cry for a while without talking. Finally, I ask, "Why?"
"Why what, Snow?" He's probably trying to sound condescending, but that's hard when you're crying.
"The flame, Baz. Why?"
BAZ
I have no defenses left. Simon is in my arms and I want nothing but to keep holding him for the rest of my life, but I know I've cost myself that chance. I can't help but tell him the truth. "I've lost everything. My mother, you, my place at the top of the class. Even my father hates me."
"You're upset about losing me?" He sounds bewildered.
I laugh through my tears, humorlessly. "More than you can imagine."
He tips his head forward so it's resting against my shoulder. "I don't think I need my imagination."
Something blooms in my chest. Hope? I tentatively tangle my fingers in his hair. "You miss me?"
"More than words."
"Simon, I'm so sorry. Take me back?"
He pulls back from me, which scares me until he stops with his face right in front of mine. "Of course. Of course. Of course. Kiss me?"
"You want that?"
"Please, Baz."
So I kiss him. He kisses me back, and we make out for a while, and it's everything, and I think I'm still crying, but now it's because this is too good to be true. And then he pulls back, which scares me to my core, and he says, "If you still love me, why did you say we should break up?"
I card my hands through his hair. "Because I can't be good enough for you, love. I had a panic attack and you had to deal with the fallout. I'm so weak, and you're so good, and I—"
"Baz, really?" There's annoyance in his voice, and I flinch. He immediately draws back, but his voice softens. "I'm sorry, I really am, but that's ridiculous, Baz. You've been through so much and your reactions are totally normal and understandable and they do not make you unworthy. Just please let me stand by your side through all of this. It's all I want to do."
I'm crying harder now. "How did I get this lucky?"
"That's what I've been asking myself since October," Simon replies.
"But you—"
"I'm the worst Chosen One to ever be chosen," he interrupts. "You know that. I'm a disaster. But if you want me, I'll happily be your disaster."
"Always," I say. "I'll always want you."
"No more breakups, then," Simon says, and then he kisses me ever so gently on the cheek.
"I promise," I reply, and I capture his lips.