Desperate

by Lady Alekto

AN: Sorry that you had to wait for so long, but I've got 3 very good reasons/excuses (at least I hope so?): 1.very hard economics test 2. Italian revision (which didn't take place though *glares at teacher who was sick*) 3. learn for Biology, History and Political Education... so any questions? I guess I do not have to explain that while studying 29 hrs a day I did not find the energy, concentration, inspiration... to write, though I'd have preferred doing so *believe me*.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the other characters used in this story aren't mine. They belong to JK Rowling, and I'm just borrowing them.

Pairings: well you could say George/Angelique I guess. This I forgot ... somehow... in earlier chapters. *grins*

Warnings: Suicide attempt, angst, Blood spells

Rating: R

There are always times
where you loose control
and your friends
aren't able to help you
so you think they
don't want to
but believe me they'll help for sure

(Lost dreams, by Skyjacker)

Chapter 5

George's dreams were cruel.

All he could see was a much too thin figure in a bathtub with a package of sleeping pills. And he was crying. Fred. Desperately trying to reach him, George couldn't quite touch him, couldn't even speak a word, just watch.

Suddenly Fred moved his head and stared up to him, exactly meeting his eyes, but not seeing, not recognizing him. When he had Georges full attention he swallowed the pills he held within his hand, as if wanting to demonstrate something, still not moving his blank stare. Freds eyes were glassy from crying, his cheeks red from the burning water. And he took one pill after the other... and moments later he drifted lifeless in the bathtub.

George simply stared in horror and panic, while he was still frozen in place, by powers that were beyond him. He felt a tear running down his cheek and fall down.

As it hit the water of the bathtub it turned to blood, and in that moment George found himself drifting where Fred had been. Confused he tried to move and get out of the blood, but he found he couldn't even blink. Suddenly he was pulled under the surface and couldn't do anything against it. The liquid closed over his face and he still couldn't move. He struggled to breath, but he found he couldn't breath anymore, everything was red....

***

George snapped out of his nightmare, only to awake into the next. Percy was hovering over him, helplessly staring at him, not able to do anything while he choked.

George realized with his sleep-clouded mind, that he simply couldn't breath. His lungs just wouldn't work, as if something very heavy were lying on his chest and that was when he started to panic.

What was happening?

In the corner of his eyes he could see that Madam Pomfrey was busily trying to help Fred, who seemed to have stopped breathing as well. The lack of oxygen made him sleepy again. He surrendered himself to his body, who wouldn't work properly. And then, as suddenly as it had started it was over.

Just as he was about to black out he could breath again. Taking deep breaths, shaking from the adrenaline in his system, he stared at Percy frightened.

He looked at Freds unmoving form and the realization hit him: "Gods, I thought it was just a nightmare" he said simply not realizing that he said it out loud. And then nothing was important anymore, just Fred, who was lying a few meters away and still unreachable.

He felt totally void of any emotion for a moment, as his mind processed what had happened a few hours ago, what had happened minutes ago, and then everything came back and he started to cry, pressing his face in his pillow. He felt helpless, useless, hopeless and there was that raging guilt within him. And he felt pain.

The pain he was crushing his heart, but ... there was something else. He couldn't quite place it. He curled himself into a protective ball. It felt as if his heart was ripped out.

Anger.

Self hatred.

Love

Georges eyes went wide. What was happening? For a moment he could hear Percy muttering a spell. Something warm spread through him, and then the room faded. There was light.

Red.

George saw and felt the connection at the same time. Something was happening, to him, to Fred? Pictures floated to him, emotions hit him that weren't his and yet everything was so similar. Closing his eyes he still could see and feel something. The spinning pictures stopped, one of the pictures right in front of him.

Angelique and him? No, that wasn't him, it wasn't his... Fred.

What was the meaning of this?

***

As he opened his eyes he searched the room and noticed that Percy had left, who just had been sitting beside him?

How long had he been out?

What was that?

Then he realized what he had seen earlier: A bond to his twin. Had he seen Freds memories? dreams? thoughts? This had never happened before. They couldn't possibly be telepathic?

Suddenly he remembered his dream, and he realized, that the Fred he had seen wasn't a product of his fantasy. Had it really been this way? Had he looked up, expecting to see someone, to have someone stop him, but no one was there? It should have been so obvious, why couldn't he have known. What could have possibly upset Fred so much. It must have had to do with him, George. It was something that Fred wouldn't tell him, that ate him up inside.

Suddenly he remembered the image of Angelique and Fred he had seen earlier, when he had blacked out. Freds memory? Freds fantasy? Could it be that...? No, he had always immensely disliked Angelique, he had said so repeatedly... But still, they were twins, they were so close, wouldn't they also love similar?

'Please don't let it be that!' he thought 'I'd kill him, she's mine!' he finished, before he realized what this meant. The thought hit him back, staining him with guilt. Fred would have known, wouldn't he? Did he? Because of that?

He thought about Angelique, sweet, beautiful Angelique. Did he really care more for her than for his own twin? Was he really so blind that he couldn't even keep his own twin from hurting himself.

'We used to be one person, think the same, say the same, do the same. No one could tell us apart, until ... until Angelique came.' What was her connection to all this. He thought he was in love with her, and he knew that he was fiercely possessive of her. But she was perfect, she was beautiful, intelligent, unique... She was everything he could possibly want in a woman... except? except, she didn't like Quidditch, she didn't like Fred, she didn't like pranks. What was it about her? Why was he in love with her. He had never thought about this before.

This was so confusing.

A low moan pulled him out of his thoughts. It was as if George felt it himself that Fred was moving. This was so strange and he felt dizzy, the room was slightly spinning around him, but the feeling disappeared suddenly. His mind took some second to process what had thrown him out of his thoughts.

"Fred!" he cried, not really knowing what to do. He jumped up and stumbled to Freds bed. Madam Pomfrey who had currently been doing something at the desk turned around partly in shock, then she smiled kindly.

"I suppose he'll wake up soon. I hope dearly that you will be able to help him, with whatever ..." she looked at Fred deeply in thought "... whatever was bothering him so terribly, that he couldn't stand living anymore"

George looked up at her, considering for a moment just to jump up and hug her thankfully, then he did just that.

She chuckled at his move "Now, now Mr. Weasley, you should go back to your brothers side."

And indeed, Freds hand was moving, heavy eyelids cracking open.

***

The blackness welcomed him, warmed him, let him forget, but there was something that wouldn't let him fall. A red thread with a faint silvery shimmer connected him to something he wouldn't want to look at. He wouldn't see it anyway, it was too far up, the place he came from.

And the red thread suddenly started to fade for no apparent reason, he also felt it loosen. He smiled, now he could fall where he wanted to go. And then ... then a bright red light blinded him. He threw his hands over his eyes.

When the light faded memories came to him. The images hit him, simply wouldn't let him alone, and when he opened his eyes he cried ... out loudly. He didn't want to see them, didn't want to see this picture in particular.

"Go AWAY" he yelled, but his voice remained unheard. He struggled against the cord that was binding him, but when he touched it, it burned him.

Fear.

Helplessness.

Desperate hope.

Guilt.

Emotions, that weren't his? He jerked his hand away of the cord, but the burning took over his whole body. Everything hurt. He didn't want to be here, he wanted to go back to the blackness, or did he?

"Fred" a whisper in the darkness. His own voice, only slightly different.

"George" he stated. "No, let me go, please let me go. Let me leave" he sobbed.

Silence. There, the peace returned, but not for long.

"Fred" this time it was stronger, louder and much more powerful. Fred could feel it as it pulled him upwards.

"No" he yelled 'I don't want to go back, there's just pain, for me and for everyone'

"Wake up" George called. 'I won't'

And Fred woke up.

End Chapter 5

AN: Yes, I know I'm evil, but you'll simply have to wait. Could take some time though, I'm very busy right now (End of semester, you know!), also we have ball next week. Hope you like this chapter.

Please review! *grins*