Author: kaly
Rating: K
Category: short story, angst
Spoilers: none
Series: Brothers' Bond
Timeframe: Ron's eight. Charlie's 18.
Summary: Ron sits by Charlie's bedside when the older boy is ill.
Notes: Third in a series (of ten), Brothers' Bond, focused around Ron and Charlie. In it, Charlie is ten years older than Ron. Becomes AU after GoF canon.
Disclaimer: JKR. Scholastic. WB. Their toys, I'm just borrowing the guys, I promise! Besides, I'd use Charlie more if they were mine. ;)
Watching Over You
Ron did his best not to fidget too much as he sat by Charlie's bed. His mum had promised he could stay for a while - but only if he stayed quiet and still. Quiet was easy; still... not so much.
Charlie was still, though, and had been for over a week. The healer had come and gone earlier that week. He knew because he'd watched from behind the draperies as she'd assured their parents that Charlie would be fine. Remembering that was the hard part, he'd since discovered. It had been such a long week of waiting, wondering. Worrying.
His parents said it would take time for Charlie to get better and time was something Ron had in spades since summer break had started. The twins had deemed him too young to play with anymore, like it was somehow his fault he was only eight and they were ten. And forget Ginny - she was no fun at all.
Ron sighed. Charlie was, though.
Charlie didn't treat him like he was too little or no fun. He would play chess with him, even if he did let him win when he was younger. But eventually chess had grown easier and Ron better at it. He liked that Charlie didn't have to let him win anymore.
Curling his leg under him, Ron winced when the chair squeaked harshly. He held his breath and risked a glance at the door, hoping his mum hadn't heard. He only exhaled when there was no noise in the hallway. It had taken two days of pestering before she agreed to let him stay and he didn't want to be sent away just yet.
Ron curled into himself, pressing into the chair, and pulled an old robe of Charlie's over him. Their mum must have realized he was where he wanted to be - even if she wasn't very happy about it - because she'd left the robe out for him. Not that he cared - he was where he needed to be.
Oddly enough, he wasn't bored, even though nothing was happening. He ran over chess strategies in his mind to pass the time, chewing on his lip as he thought. He liked that there was something he was good at - for once he was better than his brothers at something. It was easy to fall into the strategy, the interaction of the pieces as they criss-crossed the board.
As the shadows grew long and the light more golden, he yawned time and again. His eyes began falling closed for longer and longer periods of time and he was asleep before he even realized.
The first thing Charlie was aware of was that his mouth tasted like a dirty sock. He grimaced and thought how he'd have to thank Bill sometime for 'sharing' that knowledge with him. Nasty prank, that one.
Even though he was somewhat awake, his eyes were heavy and it was some time before he managed to open them. When he did, pain ripped through his head and he gasped, clenching his eyes shut quickly.
Breathing through gritted teeth, Charlie waited a bit before chancing it again. When he did, he opened them slowly and barely peeked. All the while, he was trying to figure out why it felt as though a troll had walloped him. He knew without a doubt that he now had first hand knowledge how much that must hurt. If he was ever able to move again - which was questionable, his body was insisting - he might still find out.
Once the pain receded a bit he looked around enough to recognize his room, even though it was only lit by the faintest of candles. Stirring slowly, oh so very slowly, Charlie moved so that he could push up on his elbows. He groaned, again wondering what exactly had hit him.
Wrapping an arm around his chest, he concentrated on taking shallow breaths until the pain subsided. Once it was better - though by no means gone - he pushed upward again until he was sitting with his back against the head of the bed. By the time he'd managed it he was nearly panting from the exertion.
Charlie looked around his room slowly as he regained his breath. The last he remembered he had been in the field beyond the Burrow and could only wonder at how he had gotten back to his room. Or even how much time had past since. It was rather disorienting and the only comfort amid the confusion came from knowing that he was at home.
He spied the large chair beside his bed and looked at it curiously. It was out of its normal place against the wall and beneath the window. The light fell across it such that he was about to disregard it - obviously his Mum had been there - when he noticed something small almost hidden in the shadows.
Squinting slightly, his vision not quite up to normal, he recognized one of his old robes piled haphazardly. Odd that it would just be lying there; his mum hated that kind of thing. When it suddenly moved Charlie knew something was amiss.
"What?" It could hardly be called speaking; his voice was so hoarse from disuse.
The movement continued and soon he saw red hair peeking out from the folds. A few seconds later, a hand became visible - as though it were fighting against the robe that covered it. Without a second thought he knew who was lying there, curled up into an impossibly small ball.
"Ron?"
Ron awoke with a gasp, the dark images of his dreams warping into the long shadows that surrounded him. He took a deep breath, confused for a moment at where he was before it rushed back. He had been sitting with Charlie and then... Ron stretched his arms slowly, yawning silently. He must have fallen asleep.
Stretching his legs, Ron contemplated how best to quietly climb down from the chair when he felt someone staring at him. Fearing the worst - that their Mum had come to send him to bed - he looked up warily. Upon seeing who it was, he gasped, unable to breathe as all thought of his mum fled.
"Charlie!"
Charlie smiled, although that was a generous description, and Ron gulped for air. Unmindful of he chair, he scooted forward and reached out his hand, stopping just short of actually touching his brother's arm.
"You're awake?" he asked, not quite believing.
"Looks like it." Ron winced at the painful sound. Remembering a pitcher of water their mum had left, he stood on unsteady legs and to retrieve it. It wouldn't be very cool but Ron figured it would be better than nothing.
As he helped Charlie hold the glass to his lips it occurred to him that he should go find their mum. Their parents would want to know that Charlie had woken. But for some reason he found himself reluctant to leave.
When Charlie was finished, although the glass was not empty, Ron placed it back on the table. He eyed the bed warily, wanting nothing more than to crawl up beside his brother, but unsure if he should. His debate must have been obvious because Charlie patted the covers weakly.
Not needing a second invitation Ron clamored - carefully - up onto the bed. Once settled, he looked closely his brother. "How do you feel?" He waited a beat before adding, "Really."
Charlie laughed or at least Ron imagined it would have been a laugh at any other time. At the moment, though it wasn't much more than a rough burst of air. "I've been better."
Ron looked at the bed, fiddling with the hem of the robe absently. When it occurred to him what he was wearing, he felt his face flush hotly. Sure, it wasn't uncommon to wear his brother's hand-me-downs, but this robe was far too large to be Ron's yet. He had just begun to debate pulling the robe off from over his pajamas when Charlie's hand covered his own.
"Is that mine?" Ron nodded, still embarrassed, but hoping he wouldn't realize. He should have known better, there wasn't much he had ever been able to hide from his brother. Charlie nodded. "I thought so."
Ron shrugged, not meeting Charlie's eyes. "Mum gave it to me."
"A bit worn isn't it?"
Ron looked up at his brother's soft question. He had been staring at him for so long, willing him to wake up that it felt strange to have him looking back again. "I like it."
Ron saw something in Charlie's gaze and realized how it must have sounded. Wearing Charlie's robe had made him feel safe, like things would be normal again. When Charlie nodded but didn't comment, Ron was thankful. He was eight, not a baby anymore, after all.
"How long have you been here?" Charlie asked. Ron was relieved to have the subject changed.
"Just when Mum would let me."
Charlie smiled. "Does she know you're here now? It's late. I think."
Ron glanced over his shoulder at the window and saw that was indeed fully dark outside. "I suppose." He shrugged one shoulder, hoping that maybe he had forgotten, however unlikely. For a long moment he stared at their hands. He curled both of his around Charlie's and squeezed. "I'm glad you're awake."
Charlie's eyes softened and Ron felt Charlie softly squeeze his hands in return. "I'm sorry you were scared."
Ron wanted to argue but knowing it wouldn't matter - Charlie knew him too well. "They said you would be okay, but..." He looked up, searching his brother's face. "I just wanted you to wake up."
"I know."
He could see that Charlie was tired; his eyes not open as wide as they had been. Suddenly guilty, Ron began to pull away. "You should sleep."
Charlie replied, "So should you."
"I've not been sick," Ron argued. "You have." Ron tried to help him slide back down in the bed, so that he was laying flat rather than reclining against the headboard. "Better?" he asked while pulling up the covers.
Charlie smiled, barely managing a nod. "Much."
"I should go get Mum," Ron admitted reluctantly. Untangling the robe from around him, Ron stood. When Charlie placed a hand on his arm, Ron paused and looked back. "Charlie?"
He could tell that Charlie was almost asleep and was surprised to get a response. "Thank you."
Confused, and wondering if Charlie was truly more asleep than awake, Ron tilted his head. "Whatever for?"
"I'm glad you're here."
Ron almost laughed - like he would have been anywhere else. "Go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
Charlie didn't reply. He was already asleep.
end