I know that I have many other things going on right now. But, I got this in my head last night and couldn't get to sleep until I wrote it. The lyric's are from the song Brand New Day by Fireflight. I was listening to the song and the image of George sitting by the fire popped in my head. Him lost in thought, tears running down his face as he remembered Fred. And it wouldn't let go. So without further ado, I present Never Truly Gone.
Author's Note: The *** is something I borrowed from Dreamdustmama's New Moon over on Livejournal.
Second Note: Not intended by incestuous. Any romantic or sexual were not intended.
Never Truly Gone
Heartbreak takes many forms.
A three year old becomes mesmerized by an ice cream cone and savors it in ways only a toddler would understand. Only to have it slip from their hands, landing on the ground.
Or a student works diligently throughout the school term, only to have their studiousness result in a barely passing grade.
And then there's the all-to-common let down of "I just want my space" and "I swear it's not you. It's me", when you thought your life was sailing on beautiful waters.
But heartbreak the caliber of losing someone close to you makes all the others pale in comparison. Losing your brother in a war that was completely out of anyone's hands was catastrophic on many levels.
And to George Weasley, that was something he just didn't know he'd be able to survive.
George sat in the living room at the Burrow, staring incessantly at the flames. He watched each tendril of fire lick the logs in a disastrous hunger. That's what he felt like. Like life was lavishing at his pain, digging it into his heart. Lap by agonizing lap.
It had been three months since the World had been rid of its ultimate evil. And it had been for three months that he'd slept down here, on the very couch on which he sat. He hadn't been back to Weasley Wizard Wheezes and the flat above. And he sure as hell wasn't going to sleep in his old room up on the third floor. No. Those were the two places that he had spent most of his time with Fred outside of Hogwarts.
George peeled his eyes away from the glow and ran his hands through his hair. With a resigning sigh, he stood up and begun his nightly routine.
He changed into Fred's favorite pyjama bottoms. The one's his twin had always worn, even when holes littered the fabric. George then went to the mantle, which held a multitude of pictures. A sea of red hair, freckles, waving hands and smiling faces. But George only had eyes for one. He reached up and grasped the frame. He carried it back to the couch, which had been made up by his mother. As she had done every night. With tears in her eyes, all of her tenacity and spirit drained.
I'm waking up
The world is turning
The sun is shining again
I'm holding on
To things I shouldn't
George crawled under the covers and sat staring at the picture illuminated by the fire. With a bittersweet smile, he gazed at two identical, slightly blurred, ten year old boys. Soot covered their faces and clothes. The only other color present was the white of teeth shining through two very broad, face-splitting grins.
It was his favorite memory.
His mum and dad had given them a potions-making kit for Christmas that year. Probably in a vain attempt to steer them in a more studious direction. George snorted humorlessly. They had just made it worse. The picture had been taken after they had made use of the kit. To the dismay of their mother—and many hours of yelling and reprimands—that had been the first and last time the present had been used. Needless to say, it didn't survive the experiment. Fred had slung an arm around George's waist and pulled him in, both beaming proudly. And Charlie had captured the momentous occasion whilst laughing uncontrollably.
Tears leaked out of the corners of George's eyes and landed on the glass. Fred stared out of the picture in an obvious fit of giggles, occasionally pulling George in closer.
He clutched the frame to his chest. Feeling like, by doing so, he could keep a little bit of Fred with him.
It was at night that he cried. During the daylight hours, however, he wore a carefully placed mask. He knew his family saw through it. But he felt that Fred would be disappointed if he broke down in front of their mother. And it was for Fred's and their mum's sake that he remained as solid as possible.
As the tears dried, George slipped down under the covers, still holding his Fred. He turned on his side, trying to get comfortable. But the truth was he hadn't been comfortable in months. He cringed as he closed his eyes, praying the nightmares of That Day wouldn't plague his dreams. Madam Pomfrey had refused to continue with the Dreamless Draughts upon his leaving the infirmary, saying that that they were highly addictive.
So, with a deep breath, George allowed himself to sink into unconsciousness.
It's time to let them go
I've been on a losing streak
Hit so hard I couldn't speak
But when I hear Your voice it fades away
He heard running water and felt unusually relaxed. When did I leave the Burrow, the thought. And why is it so dark? He then realized that his eyes were still closed. His lids opened and blue eyes peered at the scenery. He knew where he was instantly. It was the creek that ran between the Burrow and the Lovegood's. He and Fred had spent many summers here, splashing around and dunking each other.
George was currently lying on one of the grassy banks. He looked up at the rays of sunlight filtering though the crisscrossed fingers of branches that stemmed from the trees spanning each bank along the creek. As the sun warmed his face, he felt calm and almost peaceful. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, taking in the serenity of the moment. He thought he was drifting off (if that's possible when you're already asleep), when he heard a familiar voice.
"Oi! George!"
George's eyes snapped open and he sprung to a sitting position. He swiveled his head around to the source of the voice. There, sitting in a tree, was his twin. George sat, stunned.
"Not gonna come say hello?" Fred asked, his lips pulled into a pout.
George slowly got to his feet, never taking his eyes off his brother. Scared if he just glanced away, Fred would disappear. Fred hopped down, landing in front of George.
"How..." George breathed. "How is this possible?"
"Remus. Apparently he's brilliant even in the Afterlife," Fred replied, smiling broadly.
"So, is this real? Or am I dreaming?"***
Fred's smile morphed into his "thinking face". Something George thought he'd never see again.
"I'd say a little bit of both. Or, actually, Moony would."
George drank in the sight before him. His brother, his twin, his other-half was here. With him. He couldn't help the stray tears.
Your love, it burns
Away my darkness
You guide me when I'm blind
You are the light
That shines inside me
Showing me I'm
So much more
"Gods, Fred. I miss you. I miss you so much."
Fred walked forward and pulled George into a familiar embrace. George could smell him. He could actually smell Fred. He breathed it in, relishing this. Putting it to memory. He heard Fred sniff in his ear.
"I miss you too, George," Fred whispered.
"Why? Why did it have to be you? I've never felt so alone."
Fred pulled back, taking away some of the warmth. He took George's hand and led him over to the bank and they sat down, side-by-side. And just like when they were ten, Fred put his arm around George's waist, pulling them close. George laid his head on his twin's shoulder.
"I know," Fred said after a moment of silence.
"I don't think I can do this. I don't think I can live without you," George whispered.
"You have to, Georgie. Ginny. Mum. Dad. Ronnie-kins. They all need you. And you need them. Besides, who's gonna continue our legacy? We have a reputation to uphold."
"It's pointless without you," George replied.
Fred smiled gently and lifted George's chin up with the palm of his hand. He rubbed a thumb over the freckled cheek.
"Now is the time when it's need the most. People are going to need something to make them laugh. And who better to do that than Weasley Wizard Wheezes," Fred said, puffing out his chest and throwing his arms out to the side.
George sighed.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," he agreed.
"Damn right, I'm right. I'm the smart twin, remember?"
George's face pulled into a small smile. Fred could always make him smile.
He looked around at the trees and creek that surrounded them. Then he spotted a familiar length of rope attached to a tree. His face slipped into a mischievous grin.
"Hey, Fred. Wanna go swingin'?" His answer was a mirrored grin.
They jumped up and ran to the tree. And George was delighted when he realized that he wasn't at all winded.
When I've been on a losing streak
Hit so hard I couldn't speak
But when I hear Your voice it fades away
"Remember that time that Bill, somehow, got wrapped up by his ankle in the rope?" George asked when Fred had caught up. Fred laughed.
"Yeah. Percy had to run and get Dad, because Charlie, you, and I were laughing too hard.
"He was just hanging there, looking at us with one of his famous 'I will get you for this' faces," George chuckled.
"And Percy stomped off, complaining about 'inconsiderate brothers' and 'complete morons'," Fred finished.
George's smile slipped.
"Ole Perce." He sighed. "He really does regret it, you know? Turning his back on us, and then you…" Fred nodded, understanding.
"Yeah. I guess you could say he redeemed himself. Fancy that, a humble Percy."
"Never thought it possible," George said.
"Neither did I," conceded Fred.
"Still a prat," they both said at the same time. Smiles were reborn on their faces.
Fred suddenly turned to the rope and climbed onto it.
"I got it first!" he exclaimed, swinging out over the water.
"Oi! Not fair, Fred!" George yelled.
Fred just chuckled and swung out, gaining momentum. On the third swing, he flung himself into the water with a "Woo hoo!" Seconds later, he popped up, smile intact.
"Come on, George!"
George grabbed the rope that had magically returned to its previous state. He grasped on tight, his hands and feet placed securely on the knots. He kicked out and swung over the water. He relished in the wind tickling his face for a few swings. Then, in the same manner as his brother, he launched himself into the creek. He resurfaced to a grinning Fred.
"Fun, ain't it?" Fred asked.
"Yeah," George replied. "I really miss this. The summers we spent here."
"I do too. That's why this is my favorite place to come."
"Come here often?" George asked, with a wicked grin.
"Oh yes, loads of times," Fred replied, blinking flutterly. George wrinkled his nose.
"Don't ever do that that again. You looked like a mixture of Ginny and Ron."
Fred busted out laughing and George joined in, both shuddering at the thought. And George couldn't help thinking that this was right. The way it was meant to be. Gred and Forge. Him and his twin. Together.
Their laughter slowed to slight chuckles. Then Fred took George's hand again and they walked back to the bank. Fred laid down and George followed suit. He just laid there beside his brother. Their hands still grasped together.
And I can hear You say
It's a brand new day
The pain goes away
I'm headed for the door
And I'm going home
"You have to let go, Georgie," Fred said suddenly. His tone, though softly spoken, was more serious than George had ever heard.
"You have to move on," he continued, turning his face to the side, taking George in.
"I really don't think I can," George whispered, turning his head also.
It was like looking into a mirror. They matched each other perfectly. Well, with the exception of his missing ear, and the tiny scar above Fred's lip from a backyard Quidditch accident.
"Yes, you can George," Fred said with a sad smile. "You've always been the stronger twin."
George shook his head in disagreement.
"It's too hard."
"What are you so scared of?"
George took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes. Fred knew him too well.
"I'm scared…I'm scared that every time Mum looks at me, she's just going to see you. And her heart will break all over again. That Ron and Gin will the see the big brother they'll never have again. And I'm scared of…I know it's stupid. But I'm afraid of that missing piece. It won't be 'Fred and George' anymore. Just 'George'. Just me. To be alone without the one person who I had always been able to rely on. And…."
George paused, trying to rein in the tears. His voice softened, and Fred had to lean into to hear him when he continued.
"I'm afraid I'll forget you. What your laugh sounds like. How your hair sticks up at ends in the morning. Your smile after a successful prank. I'm afraid I'll forget you."
The tears finally overflowed, slightly trapped by his closed lids. He lifted his hand to wipe them away, but felt Fred catch his wrist. George opened his eyes and he stared gapingly at what he saw. Fred's eyes were glistening with the tears that now ran from his eyes, trailing over his cheekbones and dripping off his ears. And the look of love and simultaneous sadness radiating from their depths caused him to gasp.
"You will never be alone, Georgie. I'll always be with you. I'll always watch over you. I'll be here." Fred laid George's hand over his heart and then moved it to lay over George's own.
"Just because I won't be with you physically," he continued. "Doesn't mean I've left you forever. I'll never be gone."
George silently nodded. They then turned their heads to look up at the sunlight. Nothing else needed to be said. Being twins allowed for understanding in the silence. So, they laid there, hand-in-hand, side-by-side, heart-to-heart. Spending as much time with each other as the could.
Take me in Your arms
My home lies within Your heart
"You'll be waking up soon," Fred whispered.
George felt his heart jump. And for once it wasn't weighed down with sadness. He didn't want to go. Didn't want to leave his Fred. But he knew that he'd have to. And knew that he'd be all right.
"Will you be okay?" George asked.
"Me? Yeah. Got Dumbledore, Tonks, and Snape to prank. Might even get Dobby in on it. Surprise Creevey. I'll probably also take a stab at Mssrs. Padfoot and Prongs. Bet Remus would help me."
George could sense Fred's smile. And felt his mouth turn up into one of his own. He knew now that he'd never truly forget Fred. Because you can't forget yourself. And that's what they were. As one. Now more than ever.
Suddenly, the scenery around them started to blur.
"Well, that's our cue," Fred sighed.
They stood up and simultaneously reached for each other, hugging tightly.
As he could feel the drudges of consciousness pulling at him, he heard Fred whisper into his ear.
"Take me in your arms. My home lies in your heart."
"I love you, Forge."
"Love you too, Gred."
George opened his eyes to the warm glow of dawn. He could hear his mother bustling around in the kitchen, lovingly preparing food for her family. A thought that caused his first genuine smile since the War.
He pushed back the blankets and walked to the mantle. He carefully placed the picture back in its place. And with one last glance, he Apparated to his flat.
He looked around, taking in all the things that he and his brother had accumulated over the years. Thinking of the memories attached to them.
He sighed in contentment.
"Fred," he whispered, knowing his brother was listening. "I'm home."