Chapter 6

George was crying out in pain and thrashing in the bed, his legs tangled in the sheets. Tears were streaking down Georges face and yet he refused to wake.

"George, baby, please wake up. It's Oliver, I'm here to help you. Please, just open your eyes. It'll all be over if you just open your eyes, I promise." It took a little more coaxing, but George eventually opened his tear streaked eyes.

"Ollie, it really happened didn't it?"

Oliver smiled inwardly at the little endearment, "What really happened, love"

"Fred, the war, all the horrible things I let happen to me since." Oliver nodded though he didn't know all that had happened to George after the final battle. He would wait until George was ready to tell him, before he asked any questions. Whatever horrible things that had happened to George, were still too painful and heard for George to say. But whenever he was ready Oliver would be there to listen.

"Yes, love, but none of the horrible things have to happen again and I can help you heal, if you'll let me in."

George nodded, "Will you stay with me tonight?" Oliver nodded and stood to go towards the chair next to the bed, but George grabbed his arm to stop him and tugged him back towards the bed.

"No, will you stay with me in the bed." George patted the bed next to him with sexiest look he could muster to try lure Oliver into bed with him. Oliver didn't catch the look George had given him, because of the darkness of the room, but he joined George nonetheless.

George immediately took over the situation and pulled Oliver to him in a passionate, needy kiss. Oliver pulled back nearly as soon as it happened. George began to take off his clothes to try to prove to George that he was ready for this, but Oliver stopped him before he got very far. George looked dejected and nearly shut himself off from Oliver again.

"George, love, this is not right. We shouldn't be doing this right now. You're in pain and this is not the answer." George looked on with hurt and turned away and rolled to the other side of the bed.

"George," Oliver reached out and rested his hand on the shaking shoulder. "I didn't mean it like that. I don't want you to do something you'll regret. I care about you deeply and I want to take things slow with you and not screw up; which I might have already." George turned to look at Oliver, but he didn't say anything.

"George, I just don't want to see you hurt anymore and I do not want to be the one to hurt you. Please don't hate me because I want to take things slow with you." Oliver placed his hand on George's cheek and brushed his thumb across to wipe away the tears.

"Ollie, I'm scared, that if I don't do anything for you, that you'll chuck me out and I won't have anywhere to go. No one wants me and it's hard to believe that you want me here just because you care."

"George, I do care and that's why I want you here, simply to take care of you and to help you heal. I do want you, but I want you to heal and then we can move forward. I would never chuck you out, because you have not given me anything in return. I am doing this because I'm scared that I will lose you too. I can't go through anymore loss in my life. Your life means too much to me to give up on you now."

George rolled over on his side facing Oliver and buried himself into Oliver's chest. In a matter of minutes he had fallen asleep wrapped in a pair of warm, protective arms. Oliver sat up all night with George to protect him from further nightmares. George cried out in his sleep a few times, each time calling for Oliver and each time Oliver gently soothed him with soft reassurances that he was still with him and that he wasn't going to leave him. It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that Oliver finally fell asleep himself; comforted in the knowledge that George got a good nights rest.

George woke the next morning feeling better, much better than he had felt in nearly a year. He watched Oliver sleep for a few minutes and he found that there was more to this man than he had thought and more to this friendship than either of them were ready for. He wanted to make it up to Oliver for letting him stay, so he gently left the comfort of those arms that had held him all night and padded softly out of the room.

In the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and various cabinets in hopes of making Oliver a full English breakfast, but found only the items to make porridge, toast, and tea. Well, years living with Molly Weasley had at least taught him enough to make that and he set about preparing breakfast in bed for his Ollie.