Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter. I absolutely do not own anything written or sung by Rascal Flatts either. If I did own either of these things I would be off making millions rather than staying a struggling student.

A/n: This fic is the first of many fics (someday) relating to the song "What Hurts The Most" by Rascal Flatts. Not all of them will necessarily be depressing. I have no idea when the other ones will come, just that they will eventually. Lines from the song that relate the best with this story are italicized along the way. Flashbacks also in italics. Don't worry, I'm pretty sure you'll know which is which. And though it may help, you don't need to have heard the song before you read this. And this is really long b/c there was no good place to chop into a two-parter. Enjoy!

[Edit, July 26 '07: This was written pre-DH, though most of the emotions experienced can easily apply post-DH.

The rain was coming down hard, filling the house with the sound of water lashing the roof. It was the only other sound in the house to be heard besides the occasional sniff or a pillow-muffled sob. The only light in the house at all came from the bright white street lamp outside, casting a dim, watery white glow into the rooms facing the front yard. The bedroom was such a room, and thus was slightly illuminated.

George lay on his bed, back to the un-curtained window, tears rolling silently down his face. He was clutching his pillow to his chest, with his head supported by another spare pillow. He was staring at the empty bed just feet from his own.

The bed covers and sheets were a mess, as though its occupant had had a restless night and not bothered to smooth out the covers afterwards. It looked comfortable, though empty, as if the person who had slept there had merely left for a few moments and would be back soon. George imagined that if he placed a hand on the pillow of the bed it might still be warm, although he knew it wasn't. It had been cold for a few months.

I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house…

George slowly rolled onto his back, a fresh wave of tears welling up in his swollen red eyes. The tears never seemed to stop these days. He sighed heavily and wiped them frustratedly away.

It wasn't that the rain bothered him. It didn't make him feel any worse, like one might suspect it would. It didn't make him feel any better, but at least the rain didn't further dampen his mood.

He grunted. Worse. How could it possibly be worse? A little rain never hurt anyone.

Or tears. They never hurt anyone either. The act of crying was never painful, it was just what caused the tears that was. When he was little, his mother had often told him that it was okay to cry. She said to him that if he was hurting he could cry, because crying never hurt. It wasn't until he was older that he fully understood what she meant.

I can take a few tears now and then and just let 'em out…

This time the thing that hurt had happened some time ago. Three months ago to the day, in fact. Ironic, he supposed, that it was raining, pouring down just as it had been the day everything went wrong.

And like they'd been doing all day – all week, all month – the memories came flooding over George in a muddled, painful blast of terrible emotion that made him hug his pillow tighter to his chest and cry.

Fighting. Lots of fighting.

"No worries, mate! I'll be fine!"

George always laughed when Fred said that. Fine. They would always be fine.

Fighting. War. Curses. More fighting and sorrow and death. Death. Burying friends. Good friends, close friends, best friends. Friends who had become family.

"We'll make it through alright." Fred would say. "Someday this will all be over and we'll make it through alright."

George would solemnly nod as they watched another friend be laid to rest.

Aching. A lot of heart ache. Too many tears. Too much death. Far too much sorrow.

Fred juggled all kinds of crazy objects one night, doing his part to cheer up the family and help them forget the fear and horror that clouded the outside world.

George jumped in halfway to take over, and kept it going for a little while. Eventually he tried to pass back to Fred and they purposely let things fall, in such a way that caused rounds of laughter among everyone else.

Some time later, just before bed, they put their props away and shared a cup of hot chocolate with each other at the kitchen table. Fred could see George was thinking about the War again, and grinned.

"No worries, mate." He said. "We'll be fine."

George smiled back.

"We'll make it through alright." Fred insisted.

Time marched on. They won some, they lost more friends. By a miracle, the Weasley family stayed intact.

Fred came home one night, red in the face and grinning wider than George had ever seen him. When he told George that he'd proposed to Angelina and she'd said "yes", it gave George the courage to finally propose to Katie. The next best moment to Katie's "yes" to George, was the moment George got to tell Fred what he'd done.

"I knew you weren't so good-looking for nothing." Fred joked and ruffled his twin's hair.

Business at the joke shop remained steady. It seemed people really needed any small escape from the dark times they were going through, and Weasley Wizarding Wheezes was more than happy to provide that small distraction.

The girls excitedly planned the weddings.

The War raged on.

Finally, one gloomy night, it all came to a disastrous climax.

It was pouring rain, turning the grassy field that was the battlefield into a massive mud-hole.

George was scared to go. He had this incredible sense of dread and wanted nothing to do with something that could cause this fear to come to some sort of fruitation. He told Fred so.

"It'll be alright, mate. We'll be alright." Fred said somberly and then grinned characteristically. "We've got two beautiful, perfect women to come home to. There's no way we can not come home."

George didn't feel all that reassured, but he smiled anyways.

Fred was wrong.

George let out a cry into his pillow. "You were wrong, Fred."

In that battle, George had lost many more friends. He watched people he knew, professors from his Hogwarts days, be struck down by ruthless Death Eaters, never to rise again. He saw others receive irreversible injuries. He was there when classmates and good friends were killed or badly injured. He witnessed others still receive dark curses which were sure to permanently injure them.

He attended far too many funerals when that battle was finally concluded.

Even so, they won, or so he was told.

Somewhere in the chaos, the Dark Lord had been defeated. Most of the Death Eaters ended up in Azkaban or in the ground. There were one or two who had genuinely been under the Imperius Curse and were set free.

In truth, George felt relief that it – all that evil and terrible fighting – was finally over. He appreciated it very, very much. But that didn't bring his friends back.

Or his brother.

"George! They're saying he's done it!"

"Who?"

"We've won, George! He's gone!"

"He's gone!?"

"Yes! Voldemort is gone!" Katie fell into his arms crying happily.

George embraced her just as happily, grinning, nearly crying in relief himself, as the last of the Death Eaters surrendered.

Except one.

Bellatrix Lestrange, who had very effectively evaded the Order the entire time, and managed to somehow survive the numerous battles over the years, began screaming that it wasn't true. She shrieked that the Dark Lord could never die, that the others were betrayers and cowards for giving up. As she screeched that she'd take death over Azkaban again any day, she began firing off curses like lightning. It was unwelcome proof of how she'd managed to survive this long.

Aurors and Order members flew into action, throwing up shields and counter curses just as fast. For a moment, it appeared Bellatrix hadn't hit anyone.

Then three people simultaneously dropped to the ground.

Kingsley Shacklebolt began writhing in pain, a terrifying and haunting cry erupting from his body.

Neville Longbottom gasped and sputtered as blood started gushing uncontrollably from a huge, deep slice in his chest.

Fred Weasley fell straight down with a sickening thud. He made no sound and did not move.

Order members immediately worked together to bring Bellatrix down while others rushed to the fallen. Luna Lovegood was holding onto Neville for dear life, paler than snow and telling him over and over that he couldn't leave her behind. Others were at Kingsley's side, trying to quickly assess which curse was inflicting the pain and how they could stop it. Others still were producing stretchers so they could immediately transport Neville and Kingsley to St. Mungo's hospital.

George was at Fred's side, that dread he had been feeling exploding though him like terrible, electric black fireworks. He was icy with panic as he shook Fred's shoulder.

"Fred! Fred!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "What's happened – "

Angelina was there too, already crying her heart out, her tears mixing with the rain splattering down on her face, "No Fred, no…"

Remus Lupin appeared beside George. He looked extremely grim as he gently touched first Fred's hand, and then his forehead. Without a word, Remus gently closed the eyelids on Fred's wide open eyes. He didn't need to say anything, and George could see that some of the moisture sliding down Remus' cheeks wasn't rain water.

George had guessed immediately which curse had hit Fred but he'd refused to believe it even for a fraction of a second. Now he knew for sure, and he still refused to believe it.

Things had been wretchedly bittersweet from that point on, it seemed. Kinglsey and Neville survived, without any permanent damage. George, among others, received all kinds of recognition for thier bravery and such during the War. The Weasley family quickly became one of the most highly respected families in the Wizarding World because of their contributions to the War.

No one ever mentioned that one of those contributions was a lost son.

There are days, every now, and again, I pretend, I'm ok…

Fred and George's birthday was on April first, a few weeks after it had happened. George figured his mother was going to be planning a party for him, and likely a surprise party as well. She'd never been good at hiding her plans. George knew it was going to be hard for her – for everyone – to suddenly be celebrating the birthday of just one Weasley twin. However, no one could possibly know just how hard it was for George.

He'd lost a best friend, a brother, a partner in crime, and someone he confided absolutely everything in. A twin, someone who always made him feel better, and someone he could always make feel better. Someone to laugh with, to cry with, to do stupid things with, someone to prank with, and someone who understood every little part of him. Someone who loved him like family does, like a friend does, like a brother does, like a twin does.

George had lost a piece of his soul and no one seemed to truly understand just how deep that kind of pain went.

He hadn't been able to face the party he assumed would be at the Burrow for him. His mother had called and casually invited him to supper with "just the family". George thought about how as soon as he arrived, everyone would come out of hiding and yell, "Surprise!" Then George would have to fake happiness and surprise and keep it up the whole night.

He had told his mother he'd be there. When he hung up, he felt immediately guilty, as he knew full well he had no intention of going until everyone was gone, if at all.

When he had finally gathered enough courage, George went to the Burrow, three and a half hours later than he had told Molly he would be there. He had walked into the darkened house and no one flipped on the lights or hollered "surprise".

He had guiltily entered the kitchen, to find it heavily decorated for his birthday with streamers and the like. There were candles on the table that had burned down to waxy blobs and a massive amount of party food all neatly laid out and covered in saran wrap. Ginny, Angelina and Katie were seated side by side at the far end of the table, each looking as though they'd been crying at one point or another in the last hour or so. They all looked up when he quietly stepped into the room.

Ginny stood and angrily left the kitchen, purposely bumping into George on the way out. "Thanks for showing up." She said severely.

George dropped his eyes to the floor and didn't reply. He saw a burned streak in the old linoleum from when he and Fred had accidentally set off a five-pack of Fred's experimental firecrackers. They'd been about ten years old. As tears threatened to swarm his eyes, George lifted them to look at Katie and Angelina.

It's hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go…

"I'm sorry." He finally managed to say. "I just couldn't…"

Angelina glanced at him sharply. "I made it. I had to face it, too, George. I had to look at the pity and sadness in their eyes." Her voice wavered and a tear trickled down her cheek. "You're not the only one lost someone you loved." She whispered and then rose to leave the room as Ginny had done.

George sighed and walked over to slump down in a chair beside Katie. "Where's mum?" he asked a few moments later.

"In her room." Katie said quietly, not adding that Molly had been crying steadily for almost the past hour.

George shifted in his seat and blinked hard to keep his own tears in check. "I'm so sorry." He croaked.

Katie sighed. "It's not me who you should be saying that to, George. I'm not the one who invited the entire Wizarding World to a birthday party." It was meant as a joke, and she smiled softly, though it only made George feel worse.

"I know." He shook his head and buried his face in his hands. "I know, I know. But the whole Wizarding World didn't lose their brother."

Katie placed her hand comfortingly on George's shoulder. "No, but a lot of people did. And many others lost different loved ones." She paused before gently adding, "Angelina was right, you know. You weren't the only one who lost someone."

With his emotions running in overdrive like they had the past several weeks, George faced Katie with his temper flaring.

"Maybe they did, Katie, but how many of them lost their twin? Their twin brother? I… I lost a lot more than that and no one gets it."

"George, I do, it's just – "

George leapt out of his chair as though he'd just been scalded. "No you don't! No one does! No one else has lost what I have. No one really understands what I'm going through."

"George, please! Other people – "

"No they haven't and that's my point! I lost the one person I tell everything to. I've shared a room with him since I was born. And clothes and toys and broomsticks and a dorm room and classes and homework and dates and food and… and a life. I shared a life with him. Do you really understand what that means?"

"Yes!"

"Do you have a twin?"

"No, but – "

"Then you have no idea."

"George, why are you being like this? I'm here for you!"

"You have no idea how much this hurts!" He was yelling now and couldn't stop. "How hard it is just to get out of bed in the morning, knowing I'm never going to see him again. I'm never going to tell him news ideas for a project. I won't be able to see his wedding and he'll never see mine." Tears were splashing freely down his face while Katie wiped her own eyes with her sleeve.

"We won't get to try the new racing broom together. We'll never play Quidditch together again. We won't go to New Zealand like we always talked about doing. We'll never try cooking a real meal together or buy each other Christmas presents or make fun of the teachers we used to dislike or have ice cream in Diagon Alley!"

"George," Katie said through her own tears. "Calm down – "

"I'll never see his kids and he'll never see mine! And he'll never sleep in his bed again or eat breakfast with me or share a box of chocolates with me or split an entire pizza with me or build a snowman or go swimming or call Percy names or watch a movie or kiss his girl or redecorate the store or come up with crazy new products or listen to music or read a magazine or have another Christmas or Valentine's Day or summer break or birthday! Because he's dead and he's never coming back!"

He was shaking all over and suddenly felt sick as his own words came back at him like a freight train. "Oh my gosh." He collapsed into the chair he'd previously vacated and was shaking worse than before. "He's never coming back."

"George…"

"He's – he's – h-he's – " George gulped and his breath was coming fast. His vision was completely obscured by hot tears. "He's nev-never c-coming – never coming back. Never coming b-back!" He covered his face with his arms and all the tears and sorrow and pain he'd been containing for the past few weeks came pouring out in a massive torrent of emotion. Katie rubbed his back comfortingly, knowing it was her turn to be the strong one.

Since then, not a whole lot had changed. George stayed home almost every night or worked late before heading straight home. He hired a few extra hands at the store to handle smaller jobs and simply took over Fred's part of the business, becoming the full owner and manager of Weasely's Wizarding Wheezes.

He saw Katie when she visited the store or invited herself over. George rarely made an effort to go see her instead of the other way around. People would tell Katie she was wasting her time, but Katie replied that was exactly what George needed: time. Time to heal and time to pick up the pieces of his life that had been shattered. She knew it could be a very long time before that happened but she was prepared to wait as long as it took. She loved George with all her heart and knew he felt the same. He was taking his brother's death the hardest of anyone, though reasonably so. She also knew that George would never be the same again. She loved him just the same and always would.

And so it was three months to the day since Fred had been killed. It was raining and George wanted to get out of the house if only just to walk up and down the street until he felt like returning home. He remembered Katie telling him that the 'gang' was going to be hanging out at the Wandering Toad, a local bar/café type place, this evening. George donned a coat and decided he would make his way over there and join them.

As it happened, the gang was just arriving when George turned the corner. Lee spotted him first.

It's hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone…

"Oy George!" he called out and waved with one hand, as his other hand was holding a massive blue umbrella over some of the others.

George felt a rush of warmth, familiarity and belonging at Lee's voice and immediately felt loads better. He reached the group with a smile on his face. It was probably the first smile to light his face in weeks.

Oliver Wood clapped him on the back. "Good to see you, bud."

Katie was there and slid her hand into George's. "I'm glad you came." She said.

It wasn't Katie's words or her touch that made George's heart sink low in his chest. It was as she was speaking, he was looking from familiar face to familiar face, at first thinking how good it felt to be with them. But then he saw that look in everyone's eye that Angelina had been talking about the night of the failed surprise party. Everyone indeed seemed happy to see him, but they were thinking about Fred. How much they miss Fred, and more importantly, Fred and George the pair. The twins. George and Fred, Gred and Forge. He could see the pity for him because he'd lost his other half and the sadness because they'd all lost a good friend.

George's smile faded and he suddenly felt alone, vulnerable and uncomfortable under his friend's warm gazes. He let go of Katie's hand. "Actually, I…" he took a step back, out of the shelter of Lee's umbrella, feeling guilty as his friends looked disappointed and a little sadder than before. "I… just came to get… milk." He gestured with his thumb to the convenience store down the street. "So, er…"

"George," Katie started.

"See you 'round." He said hurriedly and jogged down the empty sidewalk into the convenience store. As he did so, he caught Katie saying to the others,

"He just needs time!"

About ten minutes later, George emerged from the store, a carton of milk in hand. As he passed the Wandering Toad, he could see his friends in the back booth – the one they always used to sit in together – laughing and joking and having fun. George almost wanted to join them, but he was too scared to face the looks in their eyes again if he did.

So he headed home, and put the milk in the fridge next to another carton that had barely been used and was almost completely full. He turned on the TV to an old movie and flopped heavily onto the couch, watching without really seeing.

Time, Katie had said. All he needs is more time.

And as the rain outside began to let up, George thought that maybe that was true. Maybe all he really did need was time to get things back together somehow. It could never, ever be the same – not even close. A part of him had died with Fred, and just like Fred, it would never come back. But maybe he could keep going. Keep moving forward. Because if Fred were here, and it was someone else who was gone, Fred wouldn't let George live like this.

"No worries, mate." He'd say with a wide Weasley twin grin. "You'll be alright."

END

A/n: I know it was massively long, but there was no good place to break it into a two-shot! So my apologies there. So if you liked it, review me. And if you didn't, review me anyways! I can't get better if you don't tell me what to fix. :)