I Ain't Got Nobody

Ok so what don't you need when you're already sleep-deprived and suffering nighttime back spasms? Yes that is correct, a firework display.

Well not so much a display seeing as it was ten past two in the morning, more a bunch of drunks with access to a lot of fireworks but the result is much the same. Once the first explosion went off every seagull in Devon woke up and started screeching. I began to wonder if seagulls were equipped for nighttime flying and imagined them hammering into the side of the tall hotel buildings or the multi-storey car park. I looked to my window and readied myself for a seagull impact.

It didn't come. The noise persisted though. The 'gulls just could not settle again and would break out in squawks every once-in-a-while. None of this bothered me, however. What bothered me was my evil nemesis...my spine!

How is it possible to be pain-free all day and all evening but the second you lay down to sleep you feel as if you're laying on the latest batch of Hagrid's stone-like scones? I don't know if it was sleep deprivation, frustration or the fact that I'm just plain bonkers; but I started to snivel. Snivel, pace up and down and talk to myself out loud. To be honest, I wasn't really talking, I was swearing a lot. I ended up working myself up so much that I grabbed my keys and went downstairs. I went through the front door and sat on the garden furniture on the patio outside the lounge window.

The cool breeze blew against my face and dried the tears on my cheeks. I wiped my eyes and began to do that deep breathing thing that Hermione does when she's just stopped crying.

"You alright red?" a voice from my left asked from the darkness.

I swore and nearly fell off my plastic seat as I grabbed my chest and spun around to see Rosie's face illuminated by the lighter she was holding to the cigarette in her mouth.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" I snapped at her in shock.

Rosie held up her cigarette and smiled.

"I didn't know you smoked."

"As far as they all know," she nodded up to the windows of the B&B, "I don't anymore. I've given up."

"I can see it's going well," I said in the way us judgemental non-smokers always do.

"I only cheat once in a while. I'm having a bad night tonight..." Rosie held out the box of cigarettes to me, "...and I can see I'm not the only one."

I shook my head at her offer before confirming my bad night status.

"I still can't lay down to sleep."

"Still?"

I nodded.

"It gets to about this time and I throw a wobbly. I'm just tired and frustrated that's all."

Rosie frowned and took a drag.

"How long ago did you do it?"

"A couplea days ago," I shrugged.

"You've been here a couplea days and you were complaining about it then, it must be longer than that."

"Alright," I huffed, "a few days. A week...maybe."

Rosie exhaled a cloud of smoke toward me.

"Oh sorry," she fanned it away with her free hand, "and it's only at night eh? It shouldn't still be giving you trouble after all this time. What was it you said you did to it again?"

I quickly rewound my brain and checked my story.

"I fell on it awkwardly. It didn't even bruise though."

"Hmmm..." Rosie said, her eyebrows knitting together in thought as she took another drag.

After a couple of minutes of silence we were interrupted by another flock of seagulls creating a fresh racket. Rosie extinguished her cigarette and flicked it over the wall and onto the street.

"I've never known seagulls to be so active this time of night," she sighed, looking to the dark sky, "and you," she looked right at me, "you didn't see me smoking."

I held up my hands and shook my head.

"Of course I didn't. You don't smoke."

She smiled back at me.

"See you at breakfast red. Don't stay out here too long, the cold air won't help your back."

"I'm coming back inside in a bit," I nodded.

Rosie went back inside and I looked up at the stars to see if I recognised any of the constellations from all those classes I didn't pay any attention to. I could still hear the seagulls overhead. I stood up and fumbled with the keys, trying to find the one for the front door. It would be just my luck, I had thought, if I managed to get shat on by a seagull the one time they're all supposed to be asleep.

I didn't remember falling asleep but I must have done as a tapping at my window woke me. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and sat up with a start on seeing Hedwig perched on the ledge outside, looking very impatient with me, and suppressed the wince of discomfort my sudden jerking movement had caused.

I slipped out of bed and made my way over to the window to let the owl inside.

"Hey Hedwig," I said cautiously, remembering how Harry liked to instruct her to bite me when he was angry with me.

The snowy owl extended her leg and I untied the parchment before apologising to her for not having any owl treats around for her. She puffed out her feathers and turned her back on me. I sat down on the bed and unfurled the parchment, wondering whether it was an instruction to return home immediately or an order not to bother coming back at all.

Ron,

Screw you and what you said. I'll tear Devon apart if I bloody well want to and I am doing. If you can't face your family for whatever reason, well I don't understand it but I'll respect it, that's fine but I really need to talk to you properly mate. We just spent the best part of a year with each other and I can't just switch off my need to care how you are and want to talk things out when they are on either of our minds.

Your mother is going crazy. She practically sleeps in front of that damn clock of hers. Bill and Charlie are kind of pissed off with you truth be told. Ginny keeps questioning Hermione and me about what your 'mood' was before the final battle. She seems to think that you've had a total mental breakdown or something. I told her she was being stupid.

She was being stupid wasn't she Ron?

Fred and George are coming up with different plans every day. The latest one is to go to a different Devonshire town every night and set off a load of their fireworks to get your attention.

My blood ran cold. That had been Fred and George last night? They were here?

Hermione keeps reading all these books about stress and anxiety in post-war soldiers and is forever explaining to us all how you must be feeling and how we should all understand and give you time and not pressure you or anything.

I smiled; trust Hermione to understand me better than I do.

She cries on her own in her room every single night and refuses to go home to her parents until she knows you're alright.

My smile faded. I felt like a bastard.

Then there's me Ron.

The Daily Prophet wants to speak to me every other day. The ministry want to give me some kind of award. Lots of important people want me to do lots of important things and side with them in political debates and I'm apparently endorsing umpteen different products without my knowledge. While all of this is happening I'm being asked what it is I plan to do with my life now and I don't bloody know Ron. I didn't ever plan to have a life after the final battle.

Do I finish school? Do I still want to become an Auror without you; I remember that you changed your mind after we saw all those people die...after you had to kill somebody to save me.

I refused to remember that. I refused to learn the Death Eater's name, refused to remove their hood; I couldn't know the real human being I had struck down with the sectus sempra curse during the retrieval of Hufflepuff's cup. I needed it not to be real.

I know what you mean about trying to find out who you are and who you're meant to be from now on but why do you have to do it on your own Ron? I can't figure that stuff out by myself. I need you and Hermione. I need you mate. Why don't you need me?

I cursed myself under my breath and forced myself to keep on reading.

If you're not ready to face the wizarding world I don't blame you. If you don't want to have to answer all the questions your family will have for you then fine, I can just about understand that. If the thought of talking to Ginny is too much then I'll back you up and face her terrifying wrath to keep her from you.

I let out a sad chuckle at this.

If you can't talk to Hermione... Well that hurts me inside to imagine to be honest Ron. There's never been a time when you two haven't been able to communicate, even when you weren't talking to each other, and she needs to help you just as much as she needs you to help her. Well anyway, if you can't face her just yet then I'll keep a secret from her that could break her heart and potentially ruin our friendship and I'd do it for you mate.

I'll shut them all out if you'd just agree to meet me and talk to me.

You don't have to come back with me. You don't have to have all the answers, hell I won't even ask you a single question I promise you, and I won't try to follow you when we're done. I give you my word Ron. Just apparate to an agreed meeting place and we'll talk. Fred found your wand. I could get it back to you if you want it.

It's all over now and all we have to cling to is each other. Hermione and I really need you Ron. We have each other until you get back. I don't like to think of you dealing with all this on your own.

Please meet me.

Harry.

PS I will punch you in the arm when I see you, no matter what, just warning you ahead of time.

I laughed and wiped my welling eyes as I set the parchment down on my bed and looked over at Hedwig. She was facing me again and looking at me almost sadly.

"I'm sorry I don't have any food for you girl."

She gave a soft hoot and fluttered over to my side and nipped my finger gently.

"Okay then I'll let you get back to the Burrow and a proper reward," I sighed before picking up a pen and looking down at the parchment, "Just give me a minute will you?"

Hedwig clicked her beak and hopped up onto the bedpost to wait for me to scribble out a reply.

Hi Harry.

That just felt so inadequate but I had to start somewhere.

I'm sorry; I'm a stupid selfish bastard okay? I don't blame you if you hated me right now. I don't want to upset any of the family. I don't want to hurt Hermione or Ginny and I really don't want to abandon you while you're feeling...like I'm feeling I guess.

The thing is, as much as you need Hermione and me to get through it, I just can't deal with this in front of you guys. I can't relax with everybody watching me and wondering what I'm thinking all the time. You know me and my self esteem well enough by now don't you Harry? What do I do when things get past a certain point? I storm off don't I?

I fume or I get embarrassed or...

Remember when we were waiting to hear about dad when that snake bit him? Fred and George were all for knocking Sirius' block off they were so wound up. Ginny was insisting we all go straight to the hospital in our pyjamas and getting teary-eyed. You were just freaking out about your vision and Sirius was playing the part of our mother while she wasn't there. Remember me that night Harry? I don't suppose you do. I made myself invisible didn't I?

I just went into my own head until we got the news that he was going to be okay and then I just let a little bit of relief go, just a little remember? Then we went to bed without saying a word to each other.

I can't handle stuff, big stuff, in front of people. I don't work that way. I wish I did sometimes. I wish I could agree to meet you Harry but I can't, not until I've let it all out and got a good night's sleep.

I haven't let anything go just yet and I can't sleep for the same reason I can't apparate to meet you right now. My back is still killing me.

Don't worry about it. I swear to you on my family's lives it's nothing serious but it is a problem at the moment. Yet another one I have to deal with by myself.

I'm sorry people are trying to use you already back in the wizarding world. We both knew something like that would happen didn't we?

I'll get back to you as soon as I can I promise. I want to help you Harry, I really do, but I can't help anyone until I help myself.

I'm no good to anybody right now.

Sorry,

Ron.

PS Tell Hermione she's right.

At breakfast Dolly revealed that she hadn't got any sleep either.

"I've never heard of seagulls creating such a racket at two in the morning," she had said to Rosie, "they're supposed to be sleeping like the rest of us."

"I think they were being disturbed by some drunks," I said as I tried to stifle the blush creeping onto my ears, "I heard some fireworks being let-off just before they started squawking."

Dolly revealed that she had eventually gone to sleep with a pillow bent over the top of her head to cover both ears and a pair of tights knotted around it to hold it in place.

"What'd ya take it off for?" no-legged Jim had asked her.

Dolly had ignored him, her sleepless night had dulled her tolerance for Jim's usual routine, but no-legged Jim is not a man to be ignored easily. He removed both legs, threw them into a corner and began to sing.

"I ain't got nobody..."

The Summer Wine crew had an easy morning planned. Everybody was going to split up and do their own thing before meeting up again at one o'clock to get the mini bus to Torquay, have lunch and see a show. I had figured that no-legged Jim would drag us all back to the arcades to empty a few more machines so I bought all the two pences I had won the previous day, I needed to get rid of them 'cause I didn't have room for them all in my pockets anymore.

I soon got the feeling that, although I had kept Rosie's secret for her, the tale of my back ache grizzle in the early hours of the morning had reached no-legged Jim. I hadn't sworn Rosie to secrecy so she hadn't done anything wrong, but I did wish she had taken my promise to keep her secret as a two-way thing. What tipped me off that no-legged Jim knew was his repeated insistence that he push me in the wheelchair that morning.

Something struck me as I was wheeled along the road, other than the guilt of letting an amputee haul my carcass around the streets of Paignton, it was the fact that nobody looks you in the eye when you're sitting in a wheelchair. Then I realised that I don't make eye contact when I see somebody in a wheelchair approaching. The thing is, I don't make eye contact with anybody who passes me in general so I would be purposely looking at the wheelchair-bound person just to prove a point. I tend to treat everybody with the same attitude, the 'please ignore me as if I am completely invisible to you' attitude. I think that makes me more prejudiced against myself than anybody else now that I think about it.

I had been complaining to no-legged Jim about my not yet having had the opportunity to even set foot on the beach. This was my first real chance to do something seasidey but I hadn't had the chance because of my being hijacked by the Summer Wine crew.

As we cruised along the sea front I took my trainers off in preparation. It was then that no-legged Jim had seen it. The slope ahead that plunged down into the sand from the promenade. He sped up as he pushed me toward it excitedly. I tried to put my feet on the ground to slow us down enough for me to get out but my bare foot status wouldn't let me. I curled-up in the seat and prepared myself for the worst. I was in an out-of-control wheelchair, a no legged man standing on the back of it on a pair of false legs like a little kid on the back of their mother's shopping trolley, and a steep ramp looming ahead of us.

"We're gonna die!" I screamed in an unmanly way.

"Well we've had a good life," Jim said, still enjoying himself to the fullest.

"Speak for yourself!" I exclaimed in a high-pitched voice before we hit the slope and hurtled down toward the sand.

Do you have any idea how painful sand burns are?

No-legged Jim got a mouthful of sand and his eyes went all bloodshot from some of the grit that had gone under his eyelids. How he hadn't done himself a serious injury I'll never know. He still found the time to get in a laugh at my expense.

I had hit the sand with a thud and the chair and Jim had rolled over me, him slamming down beside me, and the chair upside down over my back, giving me the look of a robotic snail, and in true comedy fashion the wheels were still spinning. Dotted all around me were thirty-two pence worth of two pences, the shrapnel of the crash, well it was one way to get rid of my change.

Some people rushed over to help thinking it had been a genuine accident, thinking that I was a disabled person who couldn't get up, and worrying about the old man who had gone flying. Rosie and Dolly, the legless groupies, were going through the motions of telling no-legged Jim off. They seemed to be doing it out of obligation considering the circumstances. Pretty soon everybody was finding it funny.

I could imagine the postcards home these people would send.

Dear mum and dad,

The weather's hot but not always sunny. Our hotel is really nice. Went to the beach today and saw an old geezer with two false legs push a boy off the promenade in his wheelchair.

See you soon,

Your family.

This was not what my back needed right now.

Torquay wasn't all that eventful after all the drama of the morning. A wheelchair crash is a hell of an adrenaline rush and Torquay was the comedown. No-legged Jim remained on form, despite his tumble, and was thudding his way up and down the aisle of the mini bus talking to everybody along the way.

I complained to Rosie and Dolly that even though I had been face down on Paignton beach I still hadn't really had the proper beach experience, as I would describe it. There's taking a stroll along the sand and dipping your toe in the water and then there's inhaling sand, which to me isn't the same thing. We had left Torquay as soon as the old folk style entertainment had ended. I wondered why people were expected to find sub-standard sing-alongs and comedy acts entertaining as soon as they were past a certain age.

Dolly was becoming suspicious of no-legged Jim's level of activity on the journey back to the B&B and asked one of the old ladies he had just been talking to what was going on. She informed Dolly that he was doing a collection for Irene's husband.

"Who's Irene's husband?" I asked Rosie, on seeing Dolly's furious expression.

"He is!" Rosie chuckled, pointing to no-legged Jim as he held the big bag of change aloft and jangled its contents above his head.

As we all got off the mini bus on Beach Road Jim threw himself into his wheelchair and grabbed Rosie's arm, pulling her down low enough to whisper into her ear. Rosie nodded and no-legged Jim gave her the collection money he had gathered, minus five pound coins he had asked her to take out for him, and instructed me to push him to the nearest arcade.

No-legged Jim multiplied his five pound coins five times over before heaping all the coins onto me and telling me we could go back to the B&B now.

"Almost forgot to sort you out with your board money didn't I? You should have reminded me."

Can you believe that? How cheeky would I have been if I'd done that? I wasn't going to take it as read that he was going to pay for my room. I told him so as we made our tired way back to our lodgings.

I hadn't noticed before but some of the other places on our street had made some unusual, some might say ill-advised, lighting choices for night-time illumination of their buildings. One place was bathed in red light, making it look like a brothel, and another had some eerie green spotlights shining against the walls. No-legged Jim called it 'The Munster Inn'.

I was knackered and made my excuses to get to bed for another, fun-filled, crippling night. I wondered if I'd hurt any new places in the crash that had yet to make their agony known.

"Here, wait..." Rosie called after me as I climbed the stairs up to the first floor, "...I've got something for you to try."

I followed her through to the staff only door where she made me wait, in some confusion, while she bounced on the balls of her feet impatiently. Then there was the ping of something called a microwave timer going off. The staff only door burst open and the overwhelmingly comforting smell of porridge wafted through with the landlord. He was juggling what appeared to be a red-hot, purple velvet snake.

"It's a wheat pillow!" Rosie said as if awarding me the house cup.

The red-hot snake pillow thing was dropped into my hands, and dropped onto the floor as it burned me, and I was instructed to lay my spine on it when I got into bed. I asked how I was to go about removing my spine to do this before being sent to bed with a sweaty, porridge-scented, velvet snake thing. If only my life were fiction, it would be so much funnier.

I ended up lying naked on my bed; face down, balancing a steaming snake pillow on my back. Would you believe it though I was comfortable?

For the first time in ages I fell asleep before midnight. I'm not saying it was a miracle cure, I woke up with a spasm at four AM but at least I'd got a decent deep sleep. I made a mental note to buy Rosie a doughnut from the pier the next day. I also thought that a doughnut would be the perfect accompaniment to a proper stroll along the bloody beach.

A/N Did you like the comment about Ron wishing his life was just fiction?

This story is in fact partially based on true events and a real disappearing act that I myself did to Paignton without telling anybody where I was going.

No legged Jim did exist but has since passed away and Rosie is based on my Aunt.

This fic is testament to the saying that truth is often less believable that fiction...oh and that wheat pillows really do help a bad back!

Shari

PS Hey Wayne, did you notice that Hermione reads the same books as you do? I stole your diagnosis of Ron for her. I hope you don't mind.