1 Title: Suffer Silently

1.1 Author: Zipporah

Genre: Angst/Romance (equal parts of each)

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. I am using them without permission, and for no purpose other than my own pleasure and hopefully yours. The story line is mine. Questions or concerns? Write a review!

WARNING: In case you didn't see it in the summary, this story contains TWINCEST. It is all about TWINCEST. If TWINCEST (that is, twins with romantic feeling for each other) offends you, do not read this story. You are warned. Again, if you don't like TWINCEST, get out!

Notes: Thank you Hurkon, for your suggestions, and thank you fanfiction.net, for posting it. Thanks in advance for anyone who feels compelled or obligated to review.

All that said, read on if you dare!

2

3 Suffer Silently



I'm sick.

No, not physically sick. I'm almost never that. I come from a family of seven children - therefore, we've all had everything. Immunity is something none of us could live without. It's too bad, really. No, not not being sick. Not being physically sick. Being this kind of sick. That's what's so bad. If it were just my body that was messed up, I could take that. I would spend all day in bed getting fat, dreaming up new wheezes, and mum would bring me hot soup. Most importantly, he would be there, comforting me, and telling me to get well soon.

But this is the one illness that he can't help me with.

Because, you see, he's the problem. Him. My brother. My twin. My everything.

My beloved.

When, where, why, how. It doesn't matter. It isn't relevant. It just is. It just happened I guess. I doubt many people know why they do things like that. I'm sure no one can pin point the exact moment. But I'm sure it doesn't bother them like it bothers me. For them, it's a simple question- when did he become essential to me? For me it's so much more. When did I twist? When did I turn dark? When did I commit this.betrayal.for the first time? I don't suppose I'll ever know. Maybe I've always been like this, just below the surface.

Sometimes, I try to convince myself that there's nothing wrong with me. I tell myself that I can't help it. That if it weren't natural, I wouldn't feel it. But deep down, I know that that's not true. That it can't be true. Regardless of the truth or fallacy of my convictions, they stand. While I can acknowledge that I may be wrong, that maybe it really is okay, I can't believe it. It goes against everything I've been taught, everything I've ever known. So I wage a war inside my mind. I feel it, and I desperately need that feeling, yet want so very much to be rid of it.

When that tactic fails to do anything but convince me even more of my unnatural tendencies, I tell myself that it's okay because it's just feelings. Nothing is solid or tangible. Nothing is real. Even if I.feel.for him, I won't do anything about it. I can't do anything about it. Not only does he not want it, he's my brother. Nothing, then, could ever materialize. Nothing is real. It's simply a dark twisted corner of my mind. I try to convince myself that not even that is really there. I'm imagining that I love him. But that would almost be worse, wouldn't it? It's one thing to have unhealthy feelings for your brother. It's another to have healthy feelings for him and want to have unhealthy ones, just so you can hate them, hate yourself.hate him.

No, I don't hate him. It's just that sometimes, I think I should. There are so very many reasons. Look what he's made me. He took my heart, and he ruined it. I could never love anyone but him - at least not in the romantic sense of the word. The way that matters to 17-year-old boys, right? But beyond that, if by some wholly unfathomable turn of events I did, I wouldn't be able to be happy with them. You see, this thing, it's sullied me. I can't allow anyone else to dirty himself. I wouldn't want them to. More than that though, he doesn't realize. He treats me the way I treat him - same as always. We're close as ever. It's just, I want to be closer, and he can't see that. Every part of me that I ever shared with him, I still share with him. It's just, there's more of me now. Can't he see that I'm holding back?

Any normal human being would hate him for all of that.

But when I think about it, it's none of it him, is it? No, it's all me. I'm the one who fell in love with him. I'm the one who can't do anything about it. I'm the one who can't love anyone else, ever. And I'm the one holding back from him. How should he know that? I deliberately keep it from him.

Not just him. Everyone. This is my secret. Mine. I never can share it with the only person it could be shared with. Will I ever be able to just live with it, I wonder. Something tells me, no. Not when Fred, terrifyingly beautiful Fred, is around to remind me every second of every day.

* * *

There's something bothering George, I just know it. It's a sixth sense I have always had where my twin is concerned. When he's angry, hurting - when he's just about anything, I know. And before now, I've always been able to work out why, too. Always before he ever tells me, I know. That's why we're Fred 'n' George. Our connection is soul deep.

I think I've always know what's going on in George's mind, because we're so close. I have four other brothers. But George and me? We're more than brothers. I'm not sure what we are. Maybe it's just a close connection that all twins share. But that just never fit in my mind. It's one of those things I just don't think too much about.

Despite all of that, this time, it just won't come to me. For all my thinking, meditating, it won't spring to mind like it always has before. And that's not even the hardest part of it. The hardest thing is that I almost have it. I can sense it, taste it, just on the corners of my subconscious, just in the hidden depths of my dreams, the answers are there. They want to come to me. Yet they don't.

Because the truth is, no matter how much I want to know what's wrong with my twin, no matter how deeply I want to stop his hurt, this whole situation has me terrified, on a base, instinctual level. I can never win the fight, overcome the adversary, take the answer I want, because the opponent holding the answer back is myself. Some part of me knows I don't want this, even as I know that I do.

My innermost mind, the deepest part of me, tells me that knowing this time would be more than knowing any other time. Not just because of his problem, but because of mine.



Author's notes: Alright, let's see. My first Harry Potter fic, my first slash fic, my first incest fic, and my first posted fic - all in one! I don't know. Should I continue, or am I completely hopeless?