This is just something I'm going to write while procrastinating. It's a result of thinking too much about poor Georgie and watching Grey's Anatomy while thinking about poor Georgie. And – shock! – it's not supposed to be funny. So if you laugh, something's very wrong with you.

The sky was alive with glorious sunlight the day they buried his twin. George cursed the sun; if the weather had had any decency, it would have been pouring rain to match the misery that pervaded every inch of his soul. He sat, numb, through the ceremony and the burial, barely noticing that every other member of his family was sobbing their heart out, and not even listening to a word of the eulogy Percy managed to choke out through his tears.

When it was all over, George passed right by his siblings, and he didn't even hear Ginny say, "George…" as she tried to stop him from going up to his room. But George couldn't talk to her; she wanted to talk about Fred. And that was something he just didn't want to face right now.

He got up to his room and slammed the door, a little harder than he meant to, but he didn't care. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring ahead of him determinedly, looking everywhere but at the empty bed at the other side of the room. He unintentionally noticed the boxes he and Fred had left that were full of unperfected merchandise… the punching telescope was still sticking out from when Hermione had been its first victim nearly two years before. George remembered Fred's expression of glee as he and George had first conceived the item, believing it would be the product that would put their fledgling shop on the map. George could feel his eyes filling with tears at the memory of his twin's smiling face, and he turned his face away from the telescope.

His eyes fell instead on the window, with that damn sunlight still streaming through it like the world was still a good place to live in. A shaft of light fell upon Fred's empty pillow, still indented from his brother's head, stray red hairs resting on the pillowcase. The tears now came in earnest, even as George tried hard not to let them fall. Fred's head would never lie on that pillow again… he would never make a joke again, or make fun of Percy with him, or turn Ron's things into spiders, or be scolded by Mum… George would never see Fred's smiling face again; it had been buried in six feet of dirt just that morning. He could look in the mirror and try to pretend that his own reflection was really Fred, but it wouldn't be at all the same. George was tired of fighting the grief welling up inside him, as he let a sob escape from his lips and the tears trickle down his face.

"George?"

George looked up, startled. Ginny had poked her head inside the door, her eyes red from crying yet still full of concern for him.

"George," she repeated, crossing the room and laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, "it's all right to cry, you know."

George blinked heavily, trying to put words to the emotions struggling inside him, making him feel as though he were about to burst.

"He's gone," he said finally, his voice breaking, as the tears began again. Ginny rubbed his arm sympathetically as she began to cry again as well. "He's gone, and now I'm…"

He struggled to find words for his emotions. He had always been half of a pair – George and Fred, Gred and Forge, FredandGeorge. They had done everything together, to the point where the two brothers had barely been distinguishable, almost the same person. And Fred had always been the one with the ideas, the one in control of both their destinies… the one who knew where life was taking them. But now George was left behind to figure out where his life was supposed to go now that he was on his own, forced to be his own person, now that the person that had formed the most fundamental part of his identity was gone.

"…I'm free," he finally ended in a whisper. "Dammit." More sobs began to escape from him as Ginny wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "Dammit!"

George was finally free to be his own person, but he didn't know how to… didn't want to. He was nothing without Fred to keep him grounded, and with him... gone, it was like George was falling, accelerating toward some destiny he could never have imagined to prepare for: a future where FredandGeorge was nothing more than a memory, and where half of that person was left to put the pieces of their broken life back together.

He didn't really know how long the two of them stayed there, crying into each other's shoulders, since before he knew it the sun was gone and darkness had settled over the garden. He smiled ruefully, almost in spite of himself, now that the weather had decided to stop being so damn ironic. He wiped his eyes and said to Ginny, "Come on now, little sis… Fred wouldn't want us to carry on like this, now would he?"

Ginny smiled through her tears. "No, he wouldn't," she said with a wavery smile of her own. "But he would want us to carry on."

"I don't know if I can do that just yet," sniffled George, laughing softly. "For now… I think the best I can do is just keep breathing."

"I guess sometimes that's all we can do," said Ginny in agreement, rubbing her eyes.

And together, the two siblings slowly began heading downstairs for dinner, not concentrating on doing more than putting one foot in front of the other as they movd down the stairs.

It would take a long time before they would recover from this loss - if they would be able to be whole again at all - but at the moment, they would have to take the road to accepting their loss one step at a time... and remember to keep breathing.

Does it suck?! Probably. But I had to do it! Review please! Now back to my homework/ BWAV!