A lone twin walked into a small room with two beds. Both made neatly, as if no one has slept in them for a while now. Which was true. But the rest of the room was cluttered with boxes and other pranks. A ginger haired Weasley twin picked up a Extendable Ear, one of the first ones that the twins made that went terribly wrong, not working properly. All you could hear was static, and gave you a terrible headache.
..
I tried walking together
But the night was growing dark
Thought you were beside me
But when I reached you were gone
..
George stared at the bed that hadn't been slept in for years. Kicking another box away to get it out of his way, it started screaming. Completely ignoring it, George went and looked at a moment, rereading a letter. The letter that Mum thought would make him feel better to write, but did no actual good, just to make him fall apart again.
..
Sometimes I hear you calling
From some lost distant shore
I hear you crying softly
For the way it was before
..
Now there was no "Gred and Forge." Just... George. It was missing the other half of the phrase. Now Mum couldn't get confused on who was who. Now George only felt like half-at the most- the person he used to be. Now there were no more pranks. Now there was no more Fred. All because of one stupid, ugly, terrible, damn war.
..
Where are you now?
Are you lost?
Will I find you again?
Are you alone? Are you afraid?
Are you searching for me?
..
Crumpling up the letter, George threw it as far away from him as possible. At this rate, he should have gone mad by next month. Not to mention his birthday in a week exactly would be torture, setting back what took him almost a years improvement. And almost killing himself, intending to. It was hell without Fred, anyways, and there was pretty much nothing to live for.
..
Why did you go?
I had to stay
Now I'm reaching for you
Will you wait? Will you wait?
Will I see you again?
..
George went through another box, full of miscellaneous pranks. 'Why do you do this to yourself?' George asked himself. Right when you're starting to get just a little better, too. He thought, pushing the box away, and setting his head back against the wall. Why couldn't he have at least been there to maybe try and stop it? Or jumped out in front of Fred? But that wouldn't do much good. All that would do is put Fred in this situation. But Fred would have at least maybe tried to act happy and not depressed. Maybe Fred would have even made a joke every once in a while, or use on of their pranks.
..
You took it with you when you left
These scars are just a trace
Now it wanders lost and wounded
This heart that I misplaced
..
George put a hand up to the side of his head. One of the only scars he had from the war. It was the most painful. Not physically. Just... it reminded him that he and Fred were never together when either one got injured or killed. They were separated somehow. And George felt it when Fred died. This pain in the back of his head, making him feel sick to his stomach, knowing with that strong gut feeling that something was wrong. Not something was wrong to anyone. But he knew it would be Fred. He had a connection to Fred like no one else. No one else knew Fred better than him.
..
Where are you now?
Are you lost?
Will I find you again?
Are you alone?
Are you afraid?
Are you searching for me?
..
He never got to say goodbye. He never got to say the small but meaningful phrase, "I love you" enough when Fred was still alive. They promised to stay safe, the few times they weren't together. George knew that many things could break that promise, but it wouldn't be Fred's fault. There were few things you could do to stop a killing curse. But a killing curse didn't kill Fred. There's not much you can do to stop a giant chunk of wall from killing you when you're amazed your stick in the mud brother actually makes a joke for the first time in many years.
..
Why did you go?
I had to stay
Now I'm reaching for you
Will you wait?
Will you wait?
Will I see you again?
..
How long until I see you again? Why do I do this to myself? Why did you lie and say, "Yeah, I'm okay."? All ran through George's mind. Why do you do this to yourself, Georgie? Fred would have asked. And that one of the last things George thought before giving up...
Oh my fucking god, guys. This pains me so so much to write. I've been crying my eyes out, sinc eI've been rereading the Deathly Hallows a billion times during finals, worked on this, and the weekend after school gets out, typed it up and edited it. My friend wondered why J.K. ROwling didn't put what George was like after the war, and questions like that. It gave me an idea for this, making me bawl my eyes out and everyone think I'm crazy during finals, getting me sent to a therapist. SO now, because of fucking Dobby, Snape, Lupin, Tonks, and Fred mostly, I get to see a therapist 2-3 times a week until I can not cry every day when I wake up and realize Fred's dead, and the stupid Therapist told me I was in denial, and I should just accept it. Thank you all for reading this, sorry about the long ending thing(this). If you didn't read the song lyrics, I recommend you do with the story. I feel Hymn to the Missing by RED really fit this fanfic, since I wrote it out and added it to song, listening to the song while I'm at it. Conclusion:
Fred's Death Fanfic+Sad Song=Me bawling my eyes out until I'm dehydrated. All the while I have to get up at 4 am to go to a band trip. Which I'll be crying on the bus... maybe writing on my phone/ideas on my iPod.
And with that, I wish you all a good night. It helps if you favorite, or even just leave me a face in the reviews to know how this made you feel. JUst knowing someone reads this makes me feel better about my writing, that I spend 15 minutes procrastinating about publishing, wondering if I should actually open up to criticism.