Demonology, task 10: Write about someone suicidal.

Word Count: 1194

George screams, and Seamus is awake and fully alert in seconds. He sits up and holds his lover close, whisper soft reassurances about how everything is going to be okay. Some days, Seamus doesn't know if he believes it himself, but he's so desperate to take George's pain away.

"You're safe," Seamus says, though they both know they haven't been safe since the battle of Hogwarts ended and the Dark Lord was victorious. "I'm here."

George hasn't been the same since the battle. Really, none of them have, but it shows more in George. He doesn't smile or laugh the way he used to. Ginny says that part of George died with Fred.

"Apparently drowning is a nice way to die," George murmurs as he lays back down. "I imagine it would be peaceful to just let go."

"Why would you even be thinking about that?" Seamus asks with a heavy sigh. "Were you dreaming?"

Seamus still remembers the days when George would be the first to make a joke. Now, his mind seems to be trapped in a dark place, and there is nothing Seamus can do to bring him back. Each day seems to take something from George.

George doesn't answer. His eyes close, and silence falls between the two of them. He doesn't go to sleep; Seamus watches and waits for the gentle snorting and the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest, but it never comes. George doesn't want to talk anymore. It's nothing new, but that doesn't stop it from annoying Seamus.

He knows he shouldn't be upset. George lost his identical twin; that's a level of closeness Seamus will never be able to understand. Still, he hates it. Nothing has ever made him feel more helpless than knowing he can't save the man he loves from the darkness.

"We're going to make it through this," Seamus says quietly, cuddling into George and resting his head on George's chest. "I promise."

A sound escapes George's throat. It takes several moments for Seamus to realize his boyfriend is laughing at the possibility of hope.

…

"What am I supposed to do about it?" Seamus asks as he and Dean make their rounds along the perimeter of the resistance's headquarters. "What can I do about it?"

This conversation has become all too commonplace. George fades a little more each day, and Seamus feels himself slipping. As much as he wants to avoid the truth, there's no way to deny it: George Weasley, the bright-eyed, grinning boy who's spent over two decades making people laugh and lighting up the room, is suicidal.

"You're a good man," Dean tells him. "I know you want to save him."

"I will save him." Why does it sound so hollow, so pitiful?

Dean sighs and shakes his head. He absently smooths out a crease in his West Ham shirt. For several moments, his lips twitch as though he's desperately searching for the right words to say. He shrugs. "You know that war changes people," he says. "Just… keep that in mind, okay?"

Seamus pushes a hand through his fair hair, utterly defeated. He wants to argue, but he knows there's no point. Dean is right; no one walked out of that battle unscathed. They're all haunted in one way or another.

But he can't let George give up the fight. It's bad enough they're losing resistance members left and right, and the dark side is rapidly gaining momentum. He refuses to lose George too.

…

"Fred!"

Seamus holds George close, making soothing shushing sounds."I've got you," he whispers. "Stay with me, okay?"

"I just want to see Fred."

All Seamus can do is stroke his boyfriend's hair and hope that George doesn't act on his desire.

…

"I'm terrified," Seamus admits.

He hates having to say it aloud. He's a Gryffindor. He's meant to be brave and bold, but he can't even manage that.

Another week has passed, and George had only gotten worse somehow. Seamus has sat by, trying to piece his boyfriend back together, but it's so bloody hard.

He sniffles and wipes his eyes. A nervous laugh escapes his lips; he hadn't realized he was crying. He's become an emotional mess lately, and he doesn't know how to fix himself, let alone George.

Dean leans in, nudging Seamus gently with his shoulder. "It's going to be okay."

Seamus is really starting to hate that promise. He's said it time and time again, but he's finally understanding how useless and empty it is. Nothing about this new world is okay. They're all falling apart.

Before he can say anything, a burst of silver streaks through the air. It takes only a moment to recognize George's magpie. The Patronus opens its mouth, and George's voice–soft and shaky–comes out.

"Hate to admit, but I messed up. Oh, Merlin." The Patronus lets out a pained hiss. "I didn't… I don't want to die. I just–"

Seamus doesn't wait around to hear the end of the sentence. He runs. The muscles in his legs ache and burn, but he doesn't slow down. George is in trouble, and he has to reach him.

"Watch it!" someone shouts as he pushes them out of his way.

He doesn't pause or apologize. His mind is focused on only one thing: reaching George before it's too late.

It takes only a couple of minutes to reach the small cabin he shares with his boyfriend. Out of breath and exhausted, Seamus bursts through door and stifles a scream. George is sitting in a pool of crimson on the floor. His wrists are slit, and blood slowly spills from the veins.

"Can we skip to the argument and go straight to the make-up sex?" George asks, and his lips quirk into a faint smile.

"Merlin, George…" Seamus drops to his knees, choking back his tears. "Please don't leave me."

"I just… I wanted to see Fred," George says, tears streaking his freckled face.

Seamus takes a deep breath and draws his wand. He's spent the past few months practicing as a Healer, and he's done pretty well for himself. Still, his hands shake, and it takes a lot to steady himself. This isn't just another patient; this is the love of his life, and Seamus is painfully aware that he may lose him.

He mutters the spell, and the wounds slowly begin to mend. The bleeding stops, and the skin closes itself up.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Seamus says, helping George to his feet.

George throws his arms around him, burying his face in Seamus' shoulder. "I'm sorry, Shay. So bloody sorry."

Seamus pats his back. He can't be angry with George, or even upset. The relief he feels is too great, and all he can do is smile and be grateful that he gets another day with George.

"It may never be okay," Seamus says. "We may never truly come back from this war, but I promise you don't have to be alone. We can get through this together."

"Okay," George says. "Together."

They are healing, slowly but surely. Piece by piece, they are putting their lives back together again.