Alright, guys. It's time to get Fred's full thoughts on the news. I decided to keep this one as well cause, frankly, I love Fremione.

Anyway, time crunch, so I'll let you guys get strait to reading.

Love always,

Avoline

Fred awoke to the sound of Hermione gagging in the bathroom. He instantly jumped to his feet and ran to her side, gently pulling her hair out of the way. His heart ached as the contents of her stomach were spilled into the toilet.

She's going to die of starvation.

He bit his lip. He hated that she had to go through this. He hated that she couldn't eat without this being the end result. He knew it was the tumor; it had to be. None of this was fair to her, or any of them for that matter. Ginny, as well as everyone else, thought of Hermione as another sibling. Molly adored her, and always complained that she never ate enough. He would always laugh, knowing full well that Hermione ate just the right amount of food to keep her healthy.

He closed his eyes and forced back the emotions. She needed him to be strong, now more than ever. But how? How, when she was his rock? How, when she was the glue that held him together? How, when she was the foundation for both of them?

The foundation that was crumbling.

He was yanked from his thoughts. She was crying, calling for him.

She doesn't even know I'm right here.

"It's okay, baby," he whispered, pulling her against his naked chest, ignoring the fact that the mix of sweat and vomit was dripping down her chin. "I'm right here. It's okay, love."

"Why," she gasped between sobs. "Why me? Why us?" Tears sprung into his eyes, and he had to fight to keep them away.

"I don't know, love," he murmured, "but we'll get through this, I promise. I'll always be right here for you."

Always...

She had went back to sleep, but Fred couldn't shake his feeling of dread. He was so afraid that she would die in his arms, and, though it sounded selfish even to himself, he couldn't handle it if that were to happen. He would go mental knowing that she died in the place she felt safest. Hell, he'd probably go mental if she died anywhere else as well. He just wanted to protect her from, from, whatever this was.

A tear raced down his cheek. He hated this. He hated not being able to protect her. For fuck's sake, he was her husband! He was suppose to protect her no matter what. Yet here he was, feeling just as hopeless as she felt, just as alone and scared. How was he going to be able to stand by her and not break down each and every time? She needed him, but he was useless to her. He couldn't protect her this time, couldn't save her. Nothing would ever be "alright" ever again. Nothing would go back to the way it was.

He gently slid out of bed, careful not to wake her, and placed a silencing spell on the living room. She didn't need to hear him, and as light of a sleeper as she was, he knew she would.

Oh, Merlin, what if she died tonight? He ran a hand through his hair ("Fred, come on, don't you think it's time for a haircut? Your hair wasn't even this long your sixth year!") and paced the length of the living room. He felt the panic rising within him.

Oh, Merlin, she could be dead right now!

I didn't even say "I love you" to her today!

Merlin, Mum doesn't even know!

He finally flopped onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. This wasn't suppose to happen. They were suppose to have children, grow old together, expand Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes to the far corners of the wizarding world. They wanted to be able to live long enough to hold their grandchildren and spoil them rotten.

Tears now flowed from his eyes. She had always said he was the best husband anyone could ever ask for. He wondered if she still thought that about him.

"Freddie?" He lifted his gaze to see an identical copy staring at him through the flames of the fireplace. "What's wrong, twin?" Fred wiped away the tears.

"It's a long story, George," he answered, his voice choked. George nodded, and before Fred could even blink, the younger man was in the room and sitting next to him.

"Talk to me, Freddie," he instructed softly. "Did everything go well with..." Fred shook his head.

"They found a tumor. On her liver." He bit his lip, even though he knew George would understand.

"So she's..." Fred nodded.

"And I can't..."

"No one expect you to..."

"But she..."

"She'll understand." Fred pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them.

"But what do I do," he questioned quietly. "I need her, and right now, she needs me more than ever. How do I make her forget until the test results get back?" George smiled, leaving Fred thoroughly confused.

"Do what we do best," he replied. "Make her laugh. Make her happier than she's ever been. Show her just how much you love her." Fred managed a smile through the tears.

"And if the tests..."

"Don't quit. Even if they're good and clean, don't quit."