Hooray for character interactions!
I'm really bad at creating fighting between characters ugh. :(

I'd really like to hear what you're thinking whilst reading, people! :) (I know I'm being annoying but. :))

A room in North Devon District Hospital and a nurse watching him every minute of every day was George earned for his attempt on his life. North Devon is a Muggle hospital, as St. Mungo's wouldn't handle George's case (nothing magical about a kitchen knife to the wrists, really), and we all tried our best not to look completely out of place. Mr. Weasley was beside himself, surrounded by everything Muggle, particularly intrigued by the strange 'pen' the doctor used to write with.

"Ink on the inside, you say?" his excited voice filtered into George's room, where the rest of us were gathered. "Fascinating!"

But Mr. Weasley wasn't the only fascinated one: Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were discussing the machine George was attached to while Ron pressed some buttons and George looked like he seriously wanted to be anywhere else. After we brought him, half-conscious, and explained to a nurse what had happened, he was placed under what they called a '72-hour suicide watch', where someone had to be in his room at all times to ensure he wouldn't attempt to off himself again. He used his time after regaining consciousness to argue mercilessly with the poor nurse about being confined to a room for three days, insisting that he wasn't a danger to himself, really, he wasn't, and the nurse, flustered, kept repeating, it's hospital policy, sir, I'm sorry. And an irritable, depressed wizard doesn't make for a good companion.

"Ron, you insufferable git, I swear if you don't stop pressing buttons on that bloody thing I'm going to hex you into next week."

"George!" Mrs. Weasley berated, interrupting Ginny's comment about the strange green lights on the machine.

"Mum, the thing is attached to me. I don't know what he's done, but I now have this odd sensation in my hand," he said, rather innocently, as he flexed the fingers of his right hand, which had a tube stuck into it.

"Okay, everybody, out. Let's leave George to get some rest. I'll go call for the nurse."

"I hate that nurse."

"She's a nice lady," I said.

"She's a prat."

That moment, with George's voice rough with anger so unlike him, I became fed up with what he had become. Everyone (myself included) had been walking on eggshells around him, so afraid to say or do something that would send him deeper into himself; now he was just being a git.

"I've had about enough of you," I said, once the rest of his family had left.

He looked at me curiously, scratching lazily at the heavy bandage around his left wrist. "Come again?"

"This! All of this." I gestured widely with my arms.

"You have no idea, Cami. No idea," he said, realizing what I was talking about.

"I don't? I don't? Fred was just as much my twin as he was yours, don't act like I don't know what you're going through."

George just scoffed, like I hadn't spent the last ten years in their company, as if I didn't know them better than I knew myself. "Yeah. You can't know how it feels -"

"-how it feels to have part of you ripped away? How it feels to not want to live because he didn't get that privilege? I know what it feels like. He took a part of me with him that night too. But there's a difference, George."

"What's that?" he asked, more to just humor me than from any actual curiosity.

"I didn't let it destroy me."

He didn't like that; he pushed himself straight up, turning to face me fully. "I had a perfectly reasonable reaction!"

"Really? Acting like your life is over is 'perfectly reasonable' to you?"

"It's better than pretending like Fred never existed!"

"Feeling so utterly sorry for yourself may work for you, but it doesn't cut it for me. I'm not pretending he never existed, I'm getting on with my life, which is Fred would've wanted us to do."

"And who the hell are you to say what he would've wanted?"

"You really think that Fred Weasley, of all people, would've wanted you to close the shop, and sit around doing absolutely nothing?"

All the fight left him then, and he fell back into his pillows, looking exhausted. "I have no bloody idea."

"Well I do. And I know that'd he would've wanted you to turn Ron's pillow into a spider in his memory," I actually got the faintest of smiles from George. "Why would he want to see you suffer so badly?"

"He did always have a bit of a mean streak."

"But not that mean."

"No, I suppose not."

I sat on the edge of his bed, patting his arm. "When they let you out of here, we're going to Diagon Alley, you're going to open Weasley's Wizard Wheezes back up, and for Merlin's sake, you're going to be happy if it kills you."

"And what if I can't be happy?"

I reached behind me and unhooked the Time-Turner, dangling it in front of George. "Then we go back, and we do all again." He stared at the hourglass embedded into the silver metal like it was his salvation. "But I want you to try, really try. Can you do that for me, Georgie?"

Finally, he looked me in the eyes, and gave a genuine smile for the first time in a long time. "Of course I can Cami."

I leaned forward to gently kiss his forehead. "Thank you."