TITLE: The Emptiness Inside

RATING: PGWARNINGS: Disturbing elements.

SUMMARY: Sequel to "Laughter's Ghost." This will be the only sequel.

DISCLAIMER: This is not mine. All characters are property of JK Rowling.

THE EMPTINESS INSIDE

After the war, nothing was the same. George wouldn't speak, he didn't crack jokes, nothing. They lost two sons, two friends, two brothers that day. Just one of them happened to be still breathing, which he resented.

He didn't blame Percy anymore. In fact, he had never really blamed Percy. He just got caught up in the moment.

He didn't speak at the funeral. Couldn't even bring himself to greet the guests or thank them for coming. Why would he thank them for coming to celebrate his brother's death with food and comradery? No, that's not fair, but it's how George felt.

His mum made his favourite. Well, Fred's favourite but he tried not to notice. She was trying, but he didn't understand how she could hold it all in. He didn't see it as strength, he saw it as her either living a lie or not caring enough in the first place and he hated her for it.

Well, not hated, but it's how he felt.

Every day, he would look in the mirror and see Fred staring back. Why was Fred crying, his blue eyes blurry? When George reached up to comb his hair, his reflection did the same. Just like old times, he laughed to himself. It was short-lived. That wasn't Fred. It was George. It would never be Fred.

He stripped down and examined himself in the mirror, covering every part of his body, not wanting to see. He wondered what Fred looked like now? Did he still look devilishly handsome?

"Haha, devil," George chuckled, but then he frowned as quickly as he had switched expressions. "Bad joke."

He entered the shower, allowing the scalding hot water to burn his skin. When he stepped out, he was covered in first degree burns which later developed into blisters. He didn't care, though, nothing could hurt as much as Fred being gone. He wondered if it hurt when Fred died. Harry had said that Sirius told him that death was quick, but George doubted it. His twin probably struggled for life.

Or…not. He probably accepted it. He's always been the stronger one.

Fred slipped into his muggle clothing and sat down on his bed, examining the spot opposite his, where Fred used to lay. He began to sob helplessly. He knew Molly worried, but they gave up on trying to help, Fred would only get angry.

He wondered to himself how he could end the misery, how he could be with his twin again.

He drew his wand and pointed to the mirror, wishing more than he had ever wished anything, and said the words. A green light flashed and he was reunited with his brother.

The screams the next morning were unbearable.