A/n: I cried while I wrote this... I don't know how much the rest of you will like it, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Not much of Harry in this chapter, I'm afraid, but I'm pretty sure I made up for it.

George hears him sometimes.

When Harry's gone and he's standing in the flat alone, already sinking into despair the moment the door closes and leaves him by himself- George hears him, plain as day, as close as if he's standing right there.

It makes the tears swell in his eyes as easily as they had during the funeral he couldn't bring himself to sit through, curled up under a sink in the bathroom as the stranger in black told his brother's story, hyperventilating into his arms until one of his brothers found him and took him home. To hear his voice again was like having a hot knife seared through his heart that just kept twisting, over and over, back and forth-

"It's alright, mate, it's just a dream."

Because he had never lied to him. He had never done anything to hurt him. It had been nothing but love between them, the purest kind, the kind he can't share with anyone else, won't share, because it was so precious and unique it could only happen once-

And he wants with all his heart to believe him still, and wake up to him like he used to every morning of his life, to see him smile and reach out to soothe his hair back, soothe away the nightmare, the stupid concerns and fears that became so silly in the morning- because that would be fair, that would be right, that would be wonderful.

But he isn't stupid. As lost as he is to misery, as broken as he is and as wretched, he isn't stupid.

And he knows it's a lie.

"You'll wake up soon, love."

And it breaks his heart to cover his ears and curl over his knees and force the voice away. It breaks his heart not to believe it. But he isn't stupid.

And Fred would be so disappointed in him.

That thought is more painful than the lies are, and he's able to push himself to his feet a lot sooner than he thought. If it was for Fred, he could do it- he could do anything. If it was for someone else, he could be strong.

And maybe, he finds himself thinking when Harry comes in with dinner and a smile, I could try to be strong for me, too.

He dreams that night, and its different from the usual wordless, swirling gray-scale. This time he's standing in a field he recognizes as one near the Burrow, where there's a stream that sparkles when the sun hits it just right and sweet berries that grow in the bushes nearby. The day is golden and bright, and he turns to find Fred an arm's length away, smiling through tears.

It was like no more than a moment had passed since he'd last seen him, because George is reaching forward without hesitation to brush those tears away.

The hurt was nonexistent here; he supposes its fair, he'd been focusing on it for so long, to focus on something else. Like the way Fred laughs brokenly at him, or the way he reaches up to hold George's hand to his face, closing his eyes and leaning into his palm the way he hadn't done since they were kids and George got hurt falling out of a tree.

And George wonders suddenly, in a burst of clarity so powerful he can't move, if wherever Fred was, he was missing George too.

"I want to stay," he whispers, and his eyes are wet and burning. "F- Fred, I want to stay."

And his brother laughs again but it's like a sob, and George isn't sure which of them moved first but then they're in each other's arms and its right the way it hasn't been since the end of the war. They're pulling each other close, because the togetherness is what's real, what's important, the two of them belong right here-

"Not yet," Fred is saying in his ear. "Not yet, Georgie." George is shaking his head before Fred's finished speaking, and he's crying now, shoulders shaking in a way he can't help, trying to move even closer because there's no such thing as close enough, holding Fred with all the strength he has.

"I- I miss you." Now he's sobbing and he can't help it and he doesn't want to because it's Fred and he doesn't have to hide. "I miss you, I want you, don't m- make me go back, Fred, p- please, let me stay- "

A kiss is pressed against his temple, fingers carding through his hair, and Fred tells him gently, in a voice that limps and breaks, "I miss you, too. I want you here more than anything else, George, please believe me, please- "

"Of course I do. You've never lied to me."

"And I won't start." Some of the strength is back in his voice now, because Fred's always been stronger. "And I want you to stay, but you can't."

The words can't even cut him because Fred's kissing his forehead now. "Why not?"

"Because I love you, idiot." Its gentle and sweet the way it always used to be, and George bites back another sob. "And you're still alive."

It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair-

"I love you too."

"I know." Fred doesn't pull away; they're standing there in the circle of each other's arms- whole and good and united and together the way they were when they opened their eyes to the world for the first time. "But you need to get back out there and change the world- change it like we planned."

"Not without you- "

"For me." Fred draws back now and it breaks George's heart, but he doesn't go far and it's only so he can look straight into George's eyes. "Do it for me, George. Will you?"

George wants to say no. He wants to say it isn't fair to ask this much of him. He wants to cry more and cling to his twin with everything he has, and beg and plead until Fred breaks and lets him stay forever.

But looking into eyes that are just like his, in a face that matches his own, George knows what he's going to say. He knows and it makes the tears roll faster and his vision swim, and Fred's stroking his hair again and the world's getting brighter and brighter until George knows its about to become too brilliant to exist- and Fred knows it too, and his arms tighten around George in something between fear and desperation-

So George closes his eyes and kisses his cheek and whispers, "I'll do anything for you."

Fred laughs and its tearful and heart wrenching and its echo will linger in George's heart until the moment it stops beating and he can hear it again for himself in a golden meadow-

"See you later," his twin says before the blinding white engulfs them.

George braces himself before he opens his eyes, but the dark flat still brings him to tears.