A/N: Many apologies! This chapter was delayed thanks to laziness and a monster computer virus that almost wiped out all of my files. ENJOY!
"I can feel your pulse
like a moth inside a jar
and even this is still too far,
even this is still too far.
I wanna be your skin.
I wanna be your skin.
I wanna feel everything you feel.
I will be your covering."
~I Am Your Skin-The Bravery~
Fred's POV:
Throb. Fuck.Throb. My chest aches with every beat of my heart. I sit down on the stoop and stare at the sky. I think I've just royally fucked up. I sigh and cradle my head in my hands. George. The tears burn on their way down my cheeks. I push my hands to my eyes to make them stop. They won't stop. I don't think I'm even actually crying anymore. It's more like I'm leaking under the pressure of everything that's happened. God dammit! Why'd I kiss him? I squeeze my eyes together so tight I can see colors on my lids. Because, my brain supplies helpfully. Because. . .you had too, it persists. Shut up, I mutter. I stand and glance down the empty street. I need. . .something. I need to fill this ache. I apparate again.
George's POV:
Damn. Damn damn damn. I touch my lips. They're still moist and warm. I sit down on the floor. Fuck that. I crawl over to the spot Fred was last standing and lay down. Pressing my face to the floor, I let the tears seep into the carpet. I'm a coward. A fucking coward. I close my eyes. Fred. I'm so sorry, Fred. I fall asleep thinking of him.
Fred's POV:
I'm drunk. Very, very, drunk. And cold. I'm cold standing outside the bar, staring at the sky. I run my hands through my hair and then slip them into my pockets. I miss George. George. I can feel it now. It's been there the whole night but I've been ignoring it. I look down at my chest. There's this hole there. I can't see it for some reason. But I know it's there because I can feel it. It burns and shoots all this pain through my body. I frown at my chest. It's been chasing me and I won't let it catch me. George. George can make it go away. He'll keep me safe. I apparate. When I do, there's even more pain. All this pain along my side and wetness. I feel the wetness spreading. It's warm and I'm suddenly very tired. I close my eyes thinking of him.
George's POV:
I wake up to the sound of the floo chime going off. I groan and crawl over to the fireplace.
"Yes?" I ask, opening the connection.
"Oh! Thank god! I've got him, Mr. Weasley!" someone shouts. I groan and look up. Harry Potter's head is in my fireplace.
"Harry? What's wrong?" I ask, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"It's Fred." he says. Fred? My heart nearly stops. I take another look at Harry and see that he's pale and anxious looking.
"Where's, Fred?" I ask, while my mind starts to run circles in panic. He turns around to talk to someone behind him. When he faces me again he looks tired but relieved.
"Meet us at St. Mungo's in 15 minutes," he says and closes the connection. I take a look at the clock. 15 minutes? I apparate immediately.
Fred's POV:
I wake up to the lemon-y smell of cleaning charms and the blinding white of a room at St. Mungo's. Groaning, I try to sit up.
"Fuck!" I gasp.
White hot agony races up my side and I fall back onto the bed. What the hell did I do last night? The door to my room cracks open and I see my mother's face peering around the door.
"Fred, darling, are you awake?" she asks.
"Yeah, mum. I'm up," I answer and she races over to my side.
"Oh Fred, we were so worried!" she cries and pulls me into a hug.
"Ow, mum, stop. Please," I grimace and she releases me. She stares at me tearfully for a moment before turning to the door and motioning with her hand. The rest of my family wanders in with Harry following. I feel the same white agony again when I realize George isn't with them. I turn to my mother.
"Um, I'm a little fuzzy as to why I'm here. Care to fill me in?" I joke lightly. Fresh tears make their way into her eyes.
"Fred, you could've died last night! What were you thinking? Apparating drunk!" she sobs. I cringe. She's right. The last thing I remember is drinking several rounds of fire-whiskey.
"If Harry hadn't found you, you would have bled to death," my father says, approaching my bed. I look over to Harry and smile.
"Thanks, mate," I say. He smiles and walks over.
"Well, you know me, always saving people," he laughs and winks. I turn to my dad.
"So, what exactly did I do to myself?" I ask.
"Well, you splinched yourself pretty badly," he frowns. I lift the sheet covering me. There's bandaging all the way from my armpits to my knee of my right side.
"Shit," I mutter.
"You had to have two ribs re-grown and they tried to replace the muscle and skin as best they could. They couldn't do much after that," he explains, while I examine the bandages further.
"You're going to have a pretty nasty scar. They can't use anymore healing spells on the wound," Harry tells me. I nod and lay back. I know splinching injuries are hard to heal. Healing spells clash with the magical damage of the injury. A lot of the healing has to be done naturally. My eyes wander over my family and find the empty spot where George should be. I clear my throat.
"Um, is George here?" I ask, hopefully.
"Oh!" My mother exclaims. "Of course. He wanted to see you alone. He's waiting outside," she explains as she begins to hustle everyone out. A minute passes before the door opens again. George leans into the room. He looks sleep rumpled and miserable. I just want to hug him.
"How we feeling, brother?" he asks, grinning sadly.
"Like shit," I tell him. He nods and wanders over to the seat by my bed. We sit in an uncomfortable silence until I decide to break it.
"So, where did Harry find me?" I ask, hoping to get him talking. He looks at me and the pain in his eyes lances through me.
"Outside our shop," he whispers. My hands twist into the sheet. Stupid. I'm so fucking stupid. He must hate me now. I look up and meet his eyes again. He must know I was apprating back to him.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly and my eyes widen.
"For what?" I ask. He rubs his hands together and leans closer.
"For almost losing you," he says. I close my eyes and let the tears burning in my eyes finally slip down my cheeks. I feel someone wiping them away and I open my eyes to find George sitting on my bed.
"And I'm sorry. . .I'm sorry for almost losing us," he whispers and kisses me. At first my brain shuts down completely but then George cups my face in his hands and I start kissing him back. It's sweet and slow and it's perfect. When I open my eyes I see my mirror image sitting back again.
George's POV:
"I'm so fucking stupid." I mumble. I look at Fred and see the confusion in his eyes. I move forward again until our noses are almost touching. I run my nose along his cheek until I'm right next to his ear.
"I've wanted you for so long. Why do you think I pushed you away? I couldn't control myself, " I tell him as I slide my fingers into his hair. "I almost lost my other half," I whisper against his skin. He shudders and a small moan escapes his lips. I kiss him again. This time though it's heated and says everything I can't put into words. We only break apart when we hear laughter drift over from the doorway. We turn around to see Harry standing there smiling.
"Finally," he mutters rolling his eyes. We just laugh softly and go back to ignoring him.
A/N: Smex and Epilogue to come!
I figured that if someone were splinched it would be similar to a magical scar. You can't heal a magical scar with magic. So I thought with an injury like splinching you could have almost a magical "allergic reaction" to too many healing spells. So Fred was healed as far as they could and he has to heal the rest of the way naturally.