George is looking at himself again, in a mirror.
It reflects the same old mess George is ever since Fred tumbled into eternal darkness. At least, that's how George pictures Fred in the afterlife. George's hair is that badge that all Weasleys share, except it's no longer slicked up into that dashing 'do that earned him a thousand crushes across Diagon Alley and Hogwarts. It is rough and dry, like a desert, to the touch; the carotene that makes George's hair that brilliant melted-iron is slipping out. There are dark circles under his drought-cracked dirt colored hagridden eyes, and his mouth looks like it will never smile again. The rest of George is all skin and bones barely holding up his clothes, hardly a trace of Quidditch there.
"Fred..." he whimpers softly, "you're so thin and sad." George is mixing up himself with Fred. "I'm s-sorry. I wish I could go back. I want you back." And now tears are sliding down George's pale cheeks, but George doesn't sob because his voice has reduced to a whisper with only a little bit of voice in it.
A doppelganger of George joins him in the mirror, but the difference is that he looks much stronger and healthier and good-natured. The doppelganger pulls George close and wraps his arms around George's skeletal frame.
"Fred," George rasps, groping for the doppelganger, but all he can feel is cold and smooth glass pressing back. "Fred. Fred. I miss you. I'm sorry." George is shaking violently, uncontrollably, skin and bones toppling over each other like an earthquake. "Freddie. I c-c-can't go on without you."
In George's delirium, he can feel Fred's warm arms wrapped around him. Fred thumbs away George's tears, slides his fingers through George's crusty tumbleweed hair, and kisses the top of his head. "Always were a crybaby, you were," Fred jokes.
"I'm not a crybaby! I'm not whining about something I didn't get," George protests.
"Relax, George. It's a joke. You wouldn't have been like this, not long ago, whenever I'd say it," Fred points out. "War done botched your jokes, eh? You always did need your big brother to protect you."
George throws his arms around Fred and sniffles into his shoulder. "Well, you always did protect me. I love you, Freddie. I love you. I love you. I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. I love you too," Fred replies. "My poor Georgie." This is not a romantic saying between them; it's just that some things pull at Fred's heartstrings. "You poor thing. I don't want you to be in this state. It hurts, does it?"
George nods and Fred swoops down to kiss his chest, because when Fred was alive, he had a habit of kissing things to fix them. "I love you very, very, much, Freddie. I can't stop saying that."
"I understand," Fred murmurs. Then, out of the blue, he says, "Can you smile for me?"
"What?"
"Smile for me, please. I don't like seeing you like this, all sad and upset," Fred pleads. His great emerald-tipped chocolate eyes have pooled and now they're great big Muggle mint-swirled chocolate fondue pots about to spill, but they won't, and George won't stop weeping.
Finally the first tear-Fred's tear-is caught by George's bony finger. George takes a deepdeepdeepdeep breath...
clutches at Fred's hands
wipes Fred's cheeks on his sleeve
ruffles Fred's hair
and manages a watery smile.
It isn't much; Fred and George both know that. But it's a real smile, because George wants to make his favorite brother happy again and he knows Fred won't be happy if George won't smile.
"I'm sorry, Fred," George says again.
"Thanks, Georgie. It's all right. I'm happy now," Fred says, and pulls his twin close to him again.
So, I haven't been on in a while! Usually I write Fred and George fics in alternate universes where Fred lives, but today I felt kinda...emotional. Please do not call me evil!
UPDATE: THIS DOES NOT SHIP FRED/GEORGE! It is not mean to be slash, although I do understand why people would think it is. Eh, I sorta think that the Fred/George ship is good, but I do not shipshipshipship it all the way to being an OTP. (I mainly like Fremione and Guna-George/Luna.)
