Chapter Text
1.
Simon was bored.
His mentor, Rapael, was out on business, and the rest of his Clan were either out clubbing, or brooding about the past. The brooding one's would be out of their 'sob down memory lane' by the next night, and he knew they'd play with him then. But as of now, Simon was very, very bored. The only form of amusement he could seem to find was watching the sun from his bedroom. His curtains were thrown open, and the sun's rays stopped about halfway to his bed. The way the sun shined reminded Simon of times past. Running with Clary through the park, chasing Becca around their front yard. He sat dangerously close. If he wanted to, Simon could reach out and burn himself. He hadn't felt the sun in so long, but he was starting to prefer the moon anyway. Simon knew he should close his curtains, but he just wanted to look at the sun for a little while longer. He knew Raphael would find out somehow in someway that Simon was being reckless and leaving his curtains open, so why stop the inevitable? He could practically hear his mentor now.
"What in the absolute fuck...are you doing mi sol naciente?"
Simon cocked his head to the side. Wow, that sounded real. Almost as if Raphael were right at his door....
"Idiota, close your curtains!"
Simon spun around on the floor, burning his hand pretty severely in his haste. He yelped and jumped away from the sun. Raphael was by him in an instant.
"Does it hurt a lot? Is it just your hand? Are you sure you didn't burn anything else?" His mentor asked in rapid succession.
"Yes. Yes. And yes." Simon answered as he grit his teeth, his hand bubbling from that wretched ball of fire.
"Come with me." Raphael said as he wrapped an arm around Simon's waist. "I'll take care of it."
2.
It's around midnight, right around the time most of his Clan are spending time with each other, and Simon is buried beneath his blankets, trying to keep himself from crying. He was going to join his Clan for their unofficial-official 'family time,' but something stopped him. Two something's to be exact.
The Clan's two newest members.
They weren't fledglings, both turned sometime around the early 1920's, but they were new to New York and had only joined a few weeks ago. Simon prided himself on the fact that he had a family here. After the whole, 'Simon betrayed us' debacle, Simon had repaired all of his relationships within the Clan, and once again resumed the position of their baby. Most of his Clan members, save for some of the older members, were always willing to play with Simon. The older Clan members much preferred to tell their fledgling stories of times past, or listen to him strum away on his guitar. Simon prided himself on the fact that he was loved by people that weren't his mother, or Clary, or Becca.
But now--now he felt it all starting to crumble.
The two new members, Theodore and Jameson, were not only rude and loud; they were homophobic. Little to no Downworlder regarded sexuality. You loved who you loved, and that was that. Simon's Clan was no different. If you were in love with a boy, cool. If you were in love with a girl, cool. As long as you were healthy and happy. That's what mattered. Apparently Theodore and Jameson didn't get the memo.
Simon was on his way to the large ballroom where they all gathered, when he heard them.
"Did you see that fag fledgling?" Jameson asked Theodore as they sipped blood from glasses in the hallway.
"Yeah, what a fucking priss!" Theodore laughed.
"I can see why everyone hates him, especially Raphael." Jameson smirked. "I mean, if I had to mentor a nerdy, fag like that, I'd hate him too!"
Simon didn't need to hear anymore. Without a sound, he went back to his room and buried himself underneath his blankets, wishing the sun was up so he could burn himself into oblivion. Of course his Clan hated him, of course Raphael hated him. He was a nerd who talked for too long, was way too energetic, and not to mention betrayed his own fucking kind! Simon hated the feeling in his chest. It felt like his heart was breaking, shattering and being scattered in different parts of the world. He didn't even know if Vampire hearts could break, but he had a feeling he was going to find out. Too engrossed in his depression, he hadn't heard Raphael enter his room.
"Mi Pequeño?" His mentor asked, the Spanish tumbling from his lips easily. "What are you doing up here? Everyone is waiting for you downstairs."
Simon, in spite of himself, sniffled. Raphael was suddenly kneeling at his bedside and peeling the blanket away from Simon's face. Simon stared at his mentor, bloody tears trickling from his eyes.
"Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you? Who? I'll kill them!" Raphael ground out, his fangs sliding out in preparation to kill.
Simon began to sob as he threw himself into Raphael's arms.
"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." He cried. "I know you all hate me and I'm just so, so sorry."
"Simon, mi corazon, what are you talking about?" Raphael asked as he held his fledgling tightly. "We don't hate you. We could never hate you. We love you, so, so much."
"B-But Theodore and Jameson said--"
"What did they say?" Raphael said, holding Simon at arms length to study him with a dark expression. "What did they say, Simon?"
A fresh wave of tears came, but Simon managed to brokenly tell Raphael what he had heard them say.
"Don't you dare to listen to them, my fledgling." Raphael said as he crushed Simon to his chest. "They will be dealt with as severely as possible."
Once Simon had cried himself to sleep, wrapped up tightly in Raphael's arms, the Vampire leader glared up at the ceiling.
"Don't you worry, my baby, I'll take care of it."
3.
It's a few days later, and Simon hasn't seen Theodore or Jameson. Whenever he asks the other members, they get bitter looks on their faces then quickly change the subject; distracting Simon with either a game or a movie. He also hasn't seen Raphael in a few days, and that makes him sad. When he finally does see his mentor, he's smirking, like he knows something Simon doesn't.
"Where have you been?" Simon asks when Raphael enters his room.
His leader shrugs. "Business. Have you been training?"
Simon tries to meet his mentor's eyes and tell him yes, but he can't so he looks away, because he did not train. In fact he's been playing games and watching movies with the other members of the Clan.
"Dios, mi corazon, you need to keep up with your training." Raphael tsks.
"I know, but I was busy playing games and watching movies. If it's any consolation, I learned how to use my speed with a little more control then before." Simon says, his eyes ridiculously big and innocent.
Raphael gives him a fond half-smile. "Come on, I'll take care of it."
4.
It's the next week and Simon had gone out, without Raphael's permission of course, and ended up getting attacked by a rouge werewolf. Luke had given him immunity to walk among wolves, I mean, he knew Simon all his life. So it couldn't possibly be one of Luke's. He had managed to scare the mutt off by smashing a lead pipe over it's head. The beast ran off whimpering with its tail between its legs. Simon had a nasty gash on his side, and he's pretty sure that white thing sticking out of his leg was his bone.
And so with great difficulty, Simon limped back to Hotel DuMort.
It was a slow and very painful process, especially since Simon had to stick to the shadows, and his legs kept giving out every three fucking minutes! From the lightening sky, Simon could tell that sunrise wasn't far off, maybe another twenty minutes, and he still had at least a fifteen minute walk. He could imagine his phone, which had fallen out of his pocket during the fight, was blowing up with texts and calls from Raphael. Yes Simon was reckless, and yes the Fledgling liked to be rebellious, but he was always back home at least an hour before sunset.
Always.
And so with only ten more minutes till sunrise, Simon figured Raphael was probably throwing a fit. He could imagine his mentor now, cursing in Spanish and yelling for someone to 'fucking find Simon.'
Finally, when the sun was just starting to peak out, Simon saw Hotel DuMort, and almost cried in relief. His gash was steadily bleeding, his bone still stuck out of his leg, and he's pretty sure he's got at least five or six cuts on his face from all of the times he had fallen. Simon limped just a little faster, no matter how much it hurt, and threw himself into the hotel just as the sun rose. He kicked the door closed with his un-injured leg and let himself lie there, slowly bleeding and hurting like a bitch. What seemed like an eternity later, but was actually only three seconds, Raphael was kneeling next to Simon, his eyes wide and terrified.
"Simon, what happened?"
Raphael's voice sounded so faraway.
"Raph." Simon whimpered, reaching up to place his hand on his leader's cheek. "Raph. It hurts."
"Alright, mi corazon. Just focus on my voice, okay. Stay with me. I'll take care of it."