"GEORGE, GEORGE...GEORGIE?" Fred's throat felt raw from calling his twin's name so much. He came to a halt, at a loss of where to look next. George could have apparated anywhere. What if he chose never to come back? This is all my fault. In that moment he'd never hated himself so utterly, as the enormity of what he had said to George hit home, as he realised what it had sounded like to his twin; the pain that he must have caused him. The bond between them was pulled taut, ready to snap; it was not something simply metaphorical, there was a real magical connection which Fred had endangered by his words. He turned to walk slowly back to their shop, knowing that trying to find him would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Perhaps George just wanted time to cool off before facing him again, but he halted feeling deep within him that something was wrong. He visualised George running from him...He didn't have his wand. Fred realised that he couldn't have gone far, as he felt bile rise in his throat. George was vulnerable and defenseless because of him. He drew out his own wand, having a disturbing sensation that he was going to be needing it; gripping the pine cone shaped handle firmly as if by holding something he could keep himself in one piece, when he felt near to falling apart.
Setting off again at even greater speed despite his alcohol infused state, he covered considerable ground before coming to a halt once again. The dark alley appeared menacing and full of unseen dangers, no wonder they'd always been warned to stay away from it. He passed an old crone standing against a wall; she leered at him sending shudders down his spine. For all his flirtatiousness Fred felt genuinely shy when it came to that sort of thing. When all hope seemed lost, he heard cries in the near distance. Cries that sounded awfully familiar.
With his heart beating at an alarming rate, Fred moved towards them; half thankful that at least the cries meant that George was alive. He rounded the corner and was nearly frozen in place by the sight of George on the ground against the alley wall, being beaten and taunted by a gang of Snatchers. He charged them like an angry bull, catching them completely by surprise. Scabior paused with his fist raised, slack jawed as he glared at Fred. They had no time to react however, as Fred cast a string of hexes which left them moaning and writhing on the ground. Fred looked at them with satisfaction and kicked Scabior viciously, knocking him unconscious. One of the Snatchers was holding his entrails that had been expelled from his body by the Effodio curse. Fred was shocked to see that he had used such a violent spell, but where George was concerned Fred knew that he was prepared to kill.
He quickly knelt down beside his twin to assess the damage wrought by the Snatchers. George was groaning, covered in blood. His face was close to being unrecogniseable with its mass of bruising and swelling; the angle of his nose suggested that it was broken. He quickly stopped the bleeding from the worst of the gashes, cursing the fact that he only had a rudimentary knowledge of healing spells. George was whimpering, his chest heaving as Fred realised with horror just how ill he was. He gently tilted his head to observe the crater of his left ear and pulled back trembling in fear; it was badly infected. He quickly transfigured an empty crate into a stretcher and as gently as possible lifted George onto it. "It's going to be alright Georgie", he soothed. George didn't answer, he had barely registered Fred's presence.
Fred levitated the stretcher, struggling to keep it steady as they made their way back to the shop. He came across nobody to ask for help and knew that in his condition George couldn't be apparated anywhere. Fred held George's hand the entire time, his fingers trembling. The idea of fetching a healer from St Mungo's crossed his mind, but he soon abandoned this line of contemplation, as the hospital was being closely monitored by the death eaters. They would want to know exactly how George had got such injuries. Fred realised with a shudder that if they saw them, the death eaters could bring him before the Ministry on a charge of aiding the Order in combat. It would be impossible to prove otherwise and no doubt the death eaters would seize the opportunity to provide a stark warning to the family. He cursed loudly for not modifying the Snatchers' memories, but with the state they were in he doubted that they'd remember much. He couldn't go back now, as their colourful shop front loomed in the distance. George needed help.
George was unconsciousness with beads of sweat lining his skin; he was clearly in the throes of a dangerous fever. It was with some difficulty that Fred maneuvered the stretcher up the stairs to their apartment, nearly bumping George against the banister rail in the process. What if George never forgave him? He gently transferred him to the bed and removed his clothing, as George was burning up from the fever. He ran to the bathroom and grabbed a cloth and basin, filling it with water from the tip of his wand. Returning to George he attempted to reduce the fever by bathing his face and chest with the cloth. Making another trip to the bathroom, Fred took a wound healing paste from the bathroom cabinet, praying that it would be enough to deal with the many cuts and bruises and prevent them from becoming infected too. Carefully, he applied the paste to the injuries, every time he believed himself to be done more revealed themselves. His crotch was particularly bruised, Fred noted with consternation. That must sting like hell. With his current state of emotions Fred was hesitant to touch his twin there, but he quickly told himself that in this situation that was the least important consideration. He applied the paste trying not to dwell on what he was touching. George whimpered again in pain. Fred reached to stroke his face tenderly. "I'll look after you. I'll make up for this I promise you".
Fred knew that a healing potion was needed to deal with the ear infection, without it Fred didn't want to think about what could happen, as he wiped away foul pus from the injury. His twin was still burning with the raging fever, so Fred tipped a little water into George's mouth and wiped away the droplets that dribbled down his chin. He kissed the hot forehead and drew away to leave the bedroom and begin brewing the potion. Another bruise however caught his attention and Fred leaned over his twin again, touching the tender skin on his shoulder with gentleness. Judging by the shade of purple, it was older than the rest and had not been acquired by the run in with the Snatchers. He wondered how he had got it, but the memory of their first argument hit him and Fred realised with horror that it had been him; he who had knocked him into the doorframe so violently. What's happening to me? I hurt him... He backed away in shame. He couldn't look at George right now. He couldn't look at what he had done.
As if in a trance Fred collected the necessary ingredients for the potion from their store cupboard and consulted a dusty leather bound book lining one of the shelves. Yes, the twins had books; although they weren't consulted on a regular basis. The twins were far more interested in experimentation than doing things by the book. It was a difficult potion to brew and Fred could only hope that he had done it right as he stirred the mixture over a flickering orange fire. If the quantity of lacewing flies was inadequate then the potion would be dangerous rather than beneficial for George. Tentatively, he took a sip of the potion and waited for ten minutes. Nothing bad happened so he assumed that it must be safe and took it upstairs to his suffering twin.
The fever had worsened.
George was writhing on the bed and gasping for breath. He was lost in the dark where the only thing that he was aware of was the pain. Fred pulled him to his chest and sat him up to try and improve his breathing. He gently fed George the potion and exclaimed that the bottle he had poured it in was empty too quickly. He had no more. Would it be enough? It would be impossible to brew more as he had used all of the ingredients, and with the new ministry restriction enforced upon the apothecaries, he didn't fancy his chances purchasing such ingredients without arousing suspicion. George's chest stilled, he wasn't breathing. Fred placed his head to his chest and listened for a heartbeat; it was very weak. Fred was desperate to do anything he could to keep George alive until the healing potion took effect, But what if it was too late? He forced George's mouth open, there was no time for being gentle now and placed his own mouth to George's to blow air into the oxygen starved lungs. Fred couldn't help enjoying what he had briefly tasted in their laboratory. Was it really a month ago?
It had worked, George spluttered and took his proper breath; whilst Fred allowed the tears he had been penned up to slip down his cheeks. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and continued to stroke George's face in an attempt to alleviate the pain.
George was unconscious for days; although Fred was relived to see that the effects of the potion had taken hold and the fever was beginning to reduce. Fred had not slept at all during that length of time, choosing to keep a constant vigil by George's bedside. The shop remained closed; Fred couldn't bring himself to leave his twin in this state. Although there was nothing more he desired in that moment than for his twin to wake up, there was also a sense of apprehension that accompanied it. What should I say to George? How can I apologise without telling him what I feel?
Fred allowed himself to become lost in his thoughts, so absorbed was he by the depressing nature of them that he nearly overlooked the flickering of George's eyelids.
"George?" Fred leaned forwards on his stool and tapped his twin's face. "Wake up Georgie...oh please wake up! Please...I'm sorry..."
"Fred?" The reply had Fred sobbing in unrestrained relief, despite the coldness in the tone that had answered him.
"You were beat up by snatchers...You had a bad fever...You've been out for days...I was so worried", Fred garbled.
George clutched his head, grimacing in pain, but turned to regard him again. "And why would you be worried about someone you don't want to be your twin anymore? I suppose you're going to accuse me of being lazy again, but I didn't ask you to nurse me."
Fred reached for him but George batted his hand away and turned towards the wall. He felt the sobs rising up in his chest; George was not going to forgive him and he could understand why. He had a right to after the things he'd said. Fred wanted to leave the room and give in to his misery but knew that he had to try.
"And what did you expect me to do, leave you dead in the street?" He attempted to steady his voice but it was a futile effort.
George didn't answer for a moment as he inspected the many faded bruises which lined his body. He poked at some of them and winced when they stung. His fingers lingered over the one at his shoulder and he felt rather than saw Fred flinch. Perhaps he didn't mean what he said.
"Well you didn't exactly seem to care anymore. I tried to talk to you and you just pushed me away. I needed you and you weren't there". Tears were now visible in George's eyes as he looked into Fred's equally wet ones.
"I didn't mean what I said...I really didn't...I just took things out on you...I'm so sorry George... Georgie." He glanced at his twin to gauge his reaction to using his pet name for him, expecting him to say that he had no right to call him that, but George didn't say anything. Instead he waited for his twin to explain what had happened. Fred moved to sit on the bed and reached a hand out to George; to his surprise George took it and clasped their fingers together. Fred waited for George to make another move, not expecting himself to be forgiven just like that. To his surprise George seized him in a cuddle, holding him close.
"I thought I was losing you", George mumbled; as a combination of each other's tears slipped down their faces.
"I never should have shut you out like that... I've just been so depressed and I didn't know how to deal with it". Fred mumbled back nuzzling his face against George's neck. "I don't expect you to forgive me...for what I said... for hurting you".
"Well I do", George interjected quickly. "I only half believed what you said. I'm still a little confused to be honest over what you meant though." George rubbed his hands up and down his back waiting for him to reply.
"I wish that I could tell you George, but I can't", Fred turned his head slightly away. George slipped his hands through his hair and gently pulled his face up, leaving his hands where they were.
"You can tell me anything. Whatever's been troubling you I want to know."
"I can't, I'm really sorry. I don't want us to fall out again, but I can't"; there was desperation in Fred's eyes. Disappointment flickered across George's, but he nodded resigned to the fact that they were going to have secrets from each other. A fleeting thought crossed his mind to tell Fred his own secret, but he quickly ignored it. Fred's secret was nothing like that and he didn't want to risk his disgust, not now he'd got his twin back.
"You'd want nothing to do with me if I told you, that's why I avoided you...I was ashamed", Fred admitted.
George shook his head. "Nothing you could tell me would change anything. I'd still love you whatever it was. I won't pester you again I promise, but I'm here if you ever change your mind. And I hope you do", he said softly.
"I don't want to have secrets," Fred said. "But there are some things nobody can know, not even you."
"So there's nobody else you could tell Freddie?"
Fred laughed. "No silly. If I can't tell you, I'm not exactly going to want anybody else to know."
George smiled through the tears. "No I suppose not, but that's not the only thing is it. I can tell you know." Fred nodded slipping his arms tighter around George's waist.
"I hate myself for what happened to you at the wedding; I can't get the image of you writhing on the ground out of my head. I know you've told me it wasn't my fault", he said observing George's slightly exasperated expression. "But I can't forgive myself. I really can't George. And I never will. I was supposed to look after you, not get you hurt even more!"
George's brown eyes were full of love and sympathy as he tenderly stroked Fred's cheek. "Freddie. It's ok", he said, pulling him to his chest and rocking him gently as he cried. "I understand. I'd hate myself too, but I don't blame you one bit. Besides you did look after me, didn't you?" He insisted.
"Not well enough", Fred muttered against his bare chest. "I bet you're feeling like shit George".
"Yeah", he nodded. "I still can't hear anything out my left 'ear'", he smiled, making quotation marks with his fingers. "God I bet it was disgusting".
Fred grinned. "No it wasn't particularly pleasant I can't lie, but I'd do anything for you", he touched George's cheek reverently. "How did it get like that though. Were you not taking care of yourself?"
"It's been hurting for ages. I didn't realise it was infected though."
Fred frowned. "I suppose you would have said something if I wasn't being an absolute bastard. You hide your pain well."
"Don't call yourself that", George pleaded. "Your not. What did Mum say? I know you lied when you said nothing before".
Fred swallowed, fresh tears filling his eyes. "She said...She said that you were better off without me and that...that it's always been me who gets you into trouble".
George looked both disgusted and angry. "The things that she's said to us", he muttered quietly. "She doesn't know us very well then if that's the case. I'd be lost without you, ignore what she said. You listen to what I'm telling you ok?" Fred nodded and smiled gratefully, nuzzling his chest lovingly.
"Besides", George grinned. "She's forgetting that I'm just as badass as you and many of the times we've gotten into trouble over is because of my genius ideas".
Fred grinned as he trailed a finger along George's collarbone, knowing that in that moment of reconciliation and raw emotion that he could get away with touching George intimately without suspicions being raised. He knew they'd always been physically close anyway and that George would probably consider such touching perfectly normal. He murmured his agreement and grinned again. "Yeah people think it's me who's the 'leader', but I know who's really in charge", he joked.
Fred looked down to adjust the duvet that they'd thrown back and giggled loudly. "Erm Georgie, I think we both forgot you were naked", he said pointedly. George looked down at himself and giggled too; both twins lost in the mirth that they feared they would never find again.
"Is this what you do when I'm unconscious. Strip me of my clothes", he teased.
"You were burning up", Fred giggled again.
"Ah well never mind, nothing you haven't seen before anyway", he replied, holding Fred closer to his body.
"I had to rub bruise paste on your...your...you know". They took one glance at each other and burst out laughing. "Thanks, my head's bad enough without my privates being on fire as well. Bloody Snatchers." He glanced down at Fred and was happy to observe his smile, but knew exactly what he was thinking.
"I suppose you're going to blame yourself for this too", he sighed.
"Naturally", Fred whispered.
George sighed again. "I love you, you complete and utter prat", he said affectionately.
"I love you too", Fred smiled. "I'm glad you could forgive me. I promise I won't shut you out again. We need each other now more than ever." George nodded, telling Fred that he loved him again.
"Are you scared about what could happen", George whispered.
"I've never been so scared in my entire life George".
"Me too".
They snuggled down together under the duvet after laughing Fred insisted George put some pants on. He felt happier than he had in the last two months, glad that he hadn't ruined his relationship with George, that George still loved him so much. He stroked his twin's bare back, grateful for his love; even though he wished that it could be more. He felt their bond repairing and strengthening, everything would be ok Fred told himself. Though as they lay together, it seemed nothing more than a temporary peace before the storm, as the fear within him broke surface and overwhelmed his entire being. What if one of them didn't make it through the war? The thought filled Fred with horror, but he calmed his thudding heart as he watched George sleep, his long eyelashes fluttering against his smooth cheek. He didn't want to waste whatever time they had together on such thoughts, but the sense of foreboding never left him. Outside their private haven, the war was escalating. It would not hesitate to break apart the strongest of bonds, Fred knew this and he shuddered.
AN: I'd like to thank everyone who has been reading; I really appreciate your interest. I've had this story in my head for ages, still loads of chapters to come!