Disclaimer: All characters found in J.K Rowling's Harry Potter series belong to her.  Any characters not seen in that series and the plot belong to my twisted mind.

Author's Note: Thanks to all reviewers, I love you all in a strictly platonic way.  I hope you like the new chapter; I started writing it and was on such a role in about the middle when my best friends dragged me out of my room to watch a movie. (The God's Must Be Crazy – bad movie!)  Then I started again later when I felt sick to my stomach (hey I could sort of sympathize with Georgie) but regardless of the obstacles I think it's a rather decent chapter, and it's so close to the end I can taste it.  Want to know something horrible?  I was thinking about having George die in the end because Fred was too late, but I don't think I could stand doing that to him.  I love him too much and I've bee too horrible to him so far.  Well, happy reading.

When you're gone chapter 11

When George awakened the next morning, he could still feel the effects of the heroin from the night before.  Getting out of bed, he busied himself with getting ready for work.  Just as he had finished dressing and was about to leave the room, the door flung open, scaring the life out of George.  Tag entered the room, trailed by Flame who was looking around curiously.

"Where's Trix?"

"You know, if you don't want to scare people to death, you should rethink your oh so subtle entrance."

At George's words both Tag and Flam swiveled to face him, their hands flying to their racing hearts.  "Shit man, you scared the life outta me, Know?"  Flame pulled out a lighter and began lighting and extinguishing the flame; a habit, which, George had discovered, meant that he was nervous. 

"Just returning the favor man," George grinned.  Tag let a smile cross his face as he took in the boy in front of him.  George was acting like the George of two weeks ago, before the extra pain and sickness had weakened him.  Tag knew that using the heroin was a dangerous idea, but he was too happy to see George acting better to care at the moment. 

"You sure you should be up and about?"

"Tag don't worry, I can't feel a think.  That shot you gave me was awesome."  George slung his arm around Tag's neck, "I feel better than ever."

"Be careful Trix."  Tag warned, reaching up and slapping George on the back.

George just grinned and let go of the older boy.  "Laura's expecting me – I'll see you guys tonight!"  With that, he slipped from the room without asking Tag or Flame why they were there to begin with.

"It's not going to last the day man."  Flame said doubtfully, shaking his head, looking at George's disappearing back.

"You never know Flame – he's new to the drug.  The effects will last longer than it would for you or me."  Tag ran a hand over his face.

"Let's hope it stays that way."

"Cheers to that."

*******************************

Laura looked up as George entered the diner, shock evident on her features.  George grinned brightly at her and Laura's expression changed; her eyes narrowed in suspicion.  "What are you on?"

George looked taken a back, "Nothing – Tag just gave me a painkiller, so I had a really good sleep."  George winced internally, 'Well it's only a partial lie.'

Laura relaxed and a tentative smile formed on her face.  "I had a feeling that talking about your problem and a decent night's sleep would you wonders.  The stomach aches must have been from anxiety and guilt."

George nodded absently, feeling bad about misleading Laura; he should have told her the severity of the situation.  However, George couldn't bring himself to be the reason her face sagged with worry and her eyes clouded with concern.  'I have to hide this from her, no matter what the cost!'  George thought resolutely.

The diner was unusually busy that day and George had been pulled out his sinks and put to work waiting on tables.  The constant throng of customers kept George so occupied he didn't notice the effects of the drug begin to wear off.  It was late afternoon – a quarter past four – before George had time for a break.  When he sat down, a wave of nausea crashed into him.  Clenching his eyes shut against the sickness, George forced it down and fought to control his facial features.

"Fuck," George muttered through his clenched teeth.  "I need more of that heroin stuff."   Glancing at the clock, George almost cried in frustration and discomfort when he saw that it was only 4:30.  'Come on George, you can do this; close is only four and a half hours away, don't let Laura catch on.'  George called upon all the acting skills he possessed; most of which had been developed in order to maintain an air of innocence when he and Fred were being interrogated for their pranks.  The tightening in his chest barely fazed George in addition to the violent ache in his stomach, and George couldn't find the energy to mentally berate himself for thinking of his brother.  'What's the point?  The pain has become a constant, not a reaction to memories.'

"Georgie luv, could you help the couple at table eight for me?"  Laura's voice cut through his gloomy reflections.

"Sure Laura," George called back.  Fixing his features into a mask of joy and enthusiasm, George drew himself up as tall as his stomach would allow, and glided onto the dining floor.

George took the couple's orders with a forced smile and ground his teeth as he began the trek back towards the kitchen.  All his energies were focused on that swinging door, his goal.  George fought the blackness creeping into the edges of his vision; but now that he was conscious of the pain, his brain felt drained and sluggish.  Moving to take another step, George felt himself trip and fall forward.  'So much for my acting skills,' George mused as he heard a loud rushing in his ears and his vision faded completely to black.

*****************************

George could feel a soft touch smoothing across his forehead.  'That's not one of the boys…' George fought to think straight through the pain surrounding him.  'The diner,' George's heart dropped.  Laura knew; he had failed.  Groaning, George struggled to open his eyes.

"Calm down George," Laura's voice was gentle and concerned, "You need to relax."

George coughed, his mouth felt dry and cottony, "It hurts."

"I know baby, we're going to find a way to make it hurt less."  Laura soothed.

George could hear footsteps as someone entered the room.  He focused his energy on trying to open his eyes again.  After a moment, the blurry outline of Tag was George's reward.  Laura had left his side and the two of them were standing away from George, whispering harshly to one another.  George couldn't make out what they were saying until they began to raise their voices in anger.

"Eric Vaughn Whitaker, you're mama named me your godmother for a reason, don't you dare disobey me.  You will not inject that shit into George.  You know what it does!"

"It takes away his pain!"

"It'll take away his life!  You saw what happened to your mama."

There was a brief pause and Tag cast his eyes to the floor.  "He's dying Laura."

"No, he's not!"

"Accept it Laura, I know it's hard to lose another one.  Keeping him in pain until he goes – and he will go – isn't going to help anyone.  You can't save him Laura; you didn't let him down, just like you didn't let Kurt down."

Laura burst into tears and George longed to reassure her.  "I wish I could take away the hurt.  Eric, he doesn't deserve this, he's just a young man; just a baby like Kurt."

"You can take away his pain Laura; let us give him a shot."

"I don't want him dying a junkie!"  The hard edge had returned to Laura's voice through her tears.

"It's been three days – his body won't remember it.  Besides, if he's not moving, the heroine won't wear off as quickly; we won't have to give it to him as often."  Tag had moved to wrap his arms around Laura, the anger melting from his voice.  Laura nodded dumbly against his chest.  "I have the final say in when he gets the drugs."  Laura stated firmly.  Tag nodded, silently cheering his small victory.

George stared at the ceiling, wondering how he could have possibly been unconscious for three days.  A shudder ran through his body as he realized he was lucky that he had even woken up at all; a small part of his brain threw the statement back at him, 'Lucky?  In death there is no more pain.'  George turned his attentions back to Laura and Tag, trying to forget his depressing thoughts.

Laura noticed his open eyes and released Tag, moving back over to the chair beside the bed.  "Does it still hurt luv?"

George mead a small affirmative sound and Laura grudgingly nodded at Tag.  Tag stuck his head out the door and whistled.  Moments later, Flame appeared with a syringe and George sighed in relief.

"I'm sorry that this is all we can do for you man."  Flame said regretfully as he inserted the needle into George's vein.

"It's not your fault.  I appreciate you trying to stall the inevitable."

As the heroin began to take effect, Laura shooed Flame and Tag from the room.  Tag left with the promise of returning later with soup.  Laura settled herself into the chair and picked up a cloth from the nearby night table.  Soaking it in a bowl of water and wringing it out, she gently wiped the sweat from George's forehead.

"Who's Kurt?"  George asked carefully watching Laura's reaction.  Laura's lips curled into a smile, but her eyes were haunted and distant.

"He was my son.  He would have been the same age as Eric, if he were still alive.  Eric's mother and I were best friends from school, so naturally Eric and Kurt grew up together; they were the best of friends.  When Eric's father left, Eric's mother, Maureen, got addicted to drugs and Eric began spending more time over at my house.  When his mother died of an overdose, Eric was placed under my guardianship and he started doing a lot better.  About four years ago, Kurt started feeling sick.  The doctors discovered he had advanced stages of leukemia.  Kurt didn't respond to any of the treatments and just started wasting away.  Finally, a year after being diagnosed, the doctors said there wasn't anything else they could do.  They sent him home with pain killers and told me to try and make his last days as comforting as possible."  Laura paused to wipe at her tears, "He was in so much pain and he kept trying to hide that the pain killers weren't working.  He died sleeping; with the fist real smiled I'd seen in a year, on his face."

"I'm sorry."  George didn't really know what leukemia was but he understood the hurt in Laura's voice.  George reached up for Laura and she took his hand in both of hers.

"Eric couldn't live in that house anymore.  That's when he met Switchblade – the previous leader of these boys.  Eric moved in here and he healed.  He didn't turn away from me and he helped me heal too.  I've come to love all you boys.  Switchblade left last year, leaving Erick in charge.  They haven't heard from him; but your appearance took their mind off it.  I told you that you were good for us."  Laura brushed his bangs out of his eyes and placed a kiss on George's forehead.  Laura told him to go to sleep and she would wake him up a little later to eat.

George drifted in and out of consciousness for the rest of the week.  Laura allowed him heroin only when the pain was preventing him from sleeping.  As the days dragged on, George started becoming less and less lucid.  Laura worried for him as he shouted of wizards and magic wands in the throes of pain.

On Friday, George woke to an odd sensation; the pain albeit remaining, had lessened.  Wondering if perhaps Laura had broken her regime and give him a shot, George opened his eyes.  The door was closed and Laura was fast asleep in the chair beside him, lightly gripping his hand.  Curious, George used the slight break from the pain to push himself up to his elbows.  Looking around the darkened room, George became aware of an agitated tapping noise.  Glancing towards the window, George saw a small fuzzy owl repeatedly tapping its beak against the window.  When the owl noticed George's glance, its frantic tapping increased.  'Pig?' George thought; his brain felt as though it was trudging through knee-deep mud.  'Wha… Fred!'  A new strength washed over George's tired body; he twisted and turned, fighting desperately to free himself from the sheets.

His jerking movements jolted Laura from her sleep.  After a few seconds of wide-eyed shock, Laura lunged forward to restrain George.  As she struggle to prevent George from harming himself, she screamed for Tag.  Tag burst through the door, flanked by Owl and Flame at the same time the window crashed open, allowing the owl to zoom into the room.  George crowed in delight and made a soft cooing noise to the animal, struggling to reach it as the owl flew excitedly around the room.

"Pig," George cried hysterically, "Pig, where's Fred?  Have you got a letter?"  George thrashed back and forth, tears pouring down his face.

"Flame, Owl – get that bird out of here quickly!"  Tag ordered, rushing to help Laura hold George.

"Fred, Fred!  No Pig, come back!"  George screamed as Flame successfully drove the owl out the window and pulled the glass pane closed.

"Fred!"  Tears muffled George's scream; Tag motioned to Flame, who stepped forward with a fresh syringe.  George's eyes widened, and he fought against the hands holding him.  For once, he didn't want the drug; he needed to be able to think clearly.  Pig had been there, Fred had written him a letter.

"Calm down Trix, it will be alright."  Tag muttered to distract George as Flame injected him with the sedative.

"No," George protested weakly, already feeling the effects of the heroin.  "Fred." 

George finally quieted down and lay staring blankly up at the ceiling.  Laura's shoulders were shaking as she sobbed tiredly into her hands.

"Flame, Owl, take Laura to get some food and sleep.  I'll stay with George."  Laura looked hesitant, but Tag nodded and quickly added, "He's fine now, he'll probably just sleep."

Laura reluctantly allowed herself to be escorted from the room by the two boys.  Tag turned back to George and sighed.  "What was that about mate?"

"I need Fred.  I thought I didn't want him to see me die, I don't care.  I'm not mad at him anymore for hurting me – honestly, I just want my brother," George turned his watery eyes from the ceiling to meet Tag's eyes.  "Please?"  George choked out in a whisper.

Tag felt like crying as he heard George's whimpered plea; he decided to play along.

"Where is Fred? I'll try and get him."

George's eyes lit up, "Home."

"Where's home Trix?"

"Home is the Burrow…"

Tag shook his head in confusion.  "Do you know the address?  Telephone number?"

"Just the Burrow," George muttered, shaking his head sadly.

"How about I put an ad in the newspaper?"  Tag asked.

George bobbed his head excitedly, "The Daily Prophet!"

Tag patted George's hand reassuringly, "Whatever you want Trix."  Tag smiled as George drifted back to sleep.  He didn't know what the Daily Prophet was, but if putting a letter in the newspaper would allow George peace of mind – he would do it.  Making plans to contract various newspaper offices that evening, Tag settle back to wait for Laura's return.

TBC