Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and will never make any money out of this WHATSOEVER!

A/N: After the War the Weasley family are reeling from Fred's death, from the point of view of George, Ron and Percy – following the twists and turns of their life as they learn to live without. NOT SLASH! Rated M for some explicit language and dark themes. Will contain references to self-harm and suicide, so could be triggering. Keep yourself safe and I hope you enjoy :)

This Chapter is in Ron's POV.

"George wrote to me." Percy said very quietly; I sat next to his bed in St. Mungos', this was the first thing he had said to me since I arrived.

"What did he say?" I asked, trying to make my voice sound light, as though this piece of news wasn't as important as I knew it was; Percy remained silent for a very long time. His right hand was fiddling with the bandage wrapped tightly on his left arm, his nervous state was amplified by his minimal movements.

"That you'd told him what I'd done, and - " He stopped very suddenly, I could see his lip was trembling ever so slightly. "And that he hoped I was okay." So George had listened to me when I told him about Percy, and he had obviously been thinking about him enough to write to him.

"Have you written back to him?" Percy shook his head quickly.

"I… I wouldn't know what to say." He mumbled, averting his gaze from anywhere near where I was. I felt like sighing; it was like I was banging my head off a brick wall, I was getting absolutely nowhere with him.

"Dad got a letter today, from the healer in charge of this ward." I told Percy, who showed no indication of listening to what I was telling him: "He said that if you're going to keep resisting treatment then they're just going to send you home."

"Resisting…?" Percy started, sounding incredulous, then cut off sharply. "Resisting treatment? What treatment? I haven't had any "treatment!"."

"I'm just telling you what the letter said!" I replied hotly, "I don't know what they have or haven't been offering you! Maybe you need to ask the healer what "treatment" they're meant to have been offering you if you don't know…"

"No thanks, I'd rather just come home than stay in here any longer." Percy mumbled and turned his attention back to unpicking the bandage on his left arm thread by thread.

"But when you were at home you didn't want to be there, did you?" I questioned, Percy looked even more uncomfortable.

"I could just go to my flat – it's not far away from here." He seemed to be thinking aloud more than talking to me. "That way I wouldn't have to worry anyone…"

"If you think you're going to be able to go back to your flat on your own then you can think again!" I cut over him very loudly, he looked blankly at me. "Mum and dad are going mental about George being in his flat on his own – do you really think that they'll let you go back to your flat on your own? Especially after…" I trailed off; the two of us were both staring down at Percy's arms. There was a considerably extended pause, which neither of us really knew how to break. "Have you spoken to anyone about why-"

"No." Percy snapped, cutting me off mid-sentence; for a moment I sat stunned at the sharpness of his tone before continuing in a slightly less accusatory way.

"Maybe that's why they're saying you've been resisting treatment?" I suggested.

"Well if that's the reason then it's stupid! They haven't asked me about it – they haven't spoken to me about it at all!" He retorted wildly.

"If they had asked you about it… or if one of them came and spoke to you; asked about it now, would you actually talk to them? Or would you blank them out like you've been blanking us out?" Percy glared fiercely at me for a split second. "Well you have been blocking us out Perce! Mum and dad, and I have asked you what's going on with you, to see if we can help – and you've downright ignored us all!"

"Well…" Percy started, but I continued to speak over him.

"I'm fed up of being the middle man! You say you want to get out of here and go home, well do you want to swap? Because I'd rather be in here than at home with our wreck of a family!" I was tired of trying to keep the peace – tired of tiptoeing around trying to avoid hurting anyone's feelings. "Every day I hear mum crying – every morning she is always in a bad mood because while she was asleep she had forgotten what had happened. That Fred is dead." I saw Percy flinch as though I had brandished my wand in his face. "That George seems to want to cut himself off from all reality and that you… well, only you know what's going on in your head! It just seems like our family has disintegrated and I hate it! Do you think that Fred would want this of us? Don't you think that he would have wanted us to pull together and support each other?" I was tired, exasperated at putting all my effort into situations which appeared to be fruitless; tired of being the peace keeper. Percy looked sheepish, "I don't care whether you don't like talking, or don't want to talk – but find out why they're saying you're resisting treatment and sort it! Because if you don't I think mum and dad are going to have a nervous breakdown or something…" The moment I finished speaking I wished I hadn't said anything – the look on Percy's face… I had to go and put my big foot in my mouth, didn't I? The silence between us rose and swelled as I looked down at my knees and Percy continued to stare at me, dumbfounded.

"I'll ask them." Percy said eventually, breaking the silence. "I'll ask them what treatment I'm meant to have been resisting."

"Thank you." I responded, rather more stiffly than I would have liked; the knot in my chest that had formed since I had seen the look on Percy's face when I finished speaking.

"Are mum and dad angry?" Percy asked.

"Angry…? Why would they be angry?" I asked slightly confused.

"At m, at what I did." He explained.

"No!" I replied, "They're not angry Perce, not angry at all! I think they're confused at… at why you did it, and upset that they haven't been able to do anything to help." Percy's eyebrows were knit together, he looked deep in concentration for a few moments.

"I'll sort this… I will." He muttered, "I don't know how, but I will."

"Will you let us help you?" I asked, not sure whether his muttering was directed at me or himself.

"I'll try." I sighed, almost in relief. Maybe I hadn't actually put my foot in my mouth – maybe my outburst was exactly what Percy had needed, maybe he needed someone to tell him to pull himself together for him to start doing something rather than just sit doing nothing and blocking everyone out. I looked at him; his face was still moulded into a look of intense though.

I wasn't sure whether I imagined it; or whether there was a small glimmer in Percy's eyes – that would hopefully signify the start of a change…

A/N: I'm going to apologise one last time. I'm really sorry that I've taken forever to update- I've been working a heck of a lot of overtime and I've had loads of uni assignments so that's why I've not updated this sooner. I'm sorry – but please let me know what you think! :)