George and Fred Weasley were inseparable ever since birth. Well, they didn't really have a choice to be honest.
Born as twins, they had rarely been separated, sleeping in the same nursery from day one, sharing their baths and dinners, switching their left socks and right socks to always have to different ones one, and making sure that their mum didn't know which one was which.
But growing up in a large family, where they were neither the oldest, nor the youngest, it had been hard for them to sometimes find the affection that they wanted, and each time a new baby was born, they found that their parents were too exhausted to pay them a lot of attention.
But that just made them rely on each other all the more, and perhaps that's why their parents never saw them as two individual sons, but always The Twins.
Even when all their siblings got their own room once they were weaned and deemed old enough to not sleep in their parents' room, they didn't. And even though they didn't mind sharing a room, it still felt a bit as if they lacked the individual care they needed.
George grew out of that feeling easily enough, having enough with just Fred being there, loving the fact that he could move how he wanted with little to no supervision, especially once Percy was off to Hogwarts as well, and Ron and Ginny claimed all their parent's attention.
But even though he thrived, he could see that Fred seemed to struggle a bit with it. He noticed the way his sibling's eyes looked with longing when Percy had gotten the top grades in his first year at Hogwarts, or when Ron won the local chess championship.
All the hints had been there, and even though George should have seen it coming though, it still felt weird that for once they weren't the same. The designation process was a bit weird, a slow awareness building in him what his role in live should be, and the way his mind had set himself in caregiver mode, the second one in the family after Percy, and hadn't that been a shock.
His mother had been almost as surprised as the rest of the family that the joker twins would be caregiver. Stuck-up Percy was one thing, but he clearly loved to boss people around. Taking care was a bit of a different matter, but with maturity he would perhaps be able to get that part in order.
Now Fred and George on the other hand, they never seemed to take anything serious.
Of course, then Fred's designation had set in, and how unusual it was for one-egged twins, their designation had been completely different, but in hindsight perfect for the two of them.
"Of course, now it makes sense," his mother had said, seeing the way Fred was curled up against George, his thumb deep in his mouth when he went through his first headspace, not wanting to move from his brother's side while he was feeling a little upset about all these emotions going on in his head.
And ever since, it just fell into place. How natural it felt to take care of his brother, to make sure that he felt safe in his headspace, and when he wasn't in, they just acted like usual, inventing more prank material and dreaming big of their own joke shop, even though they would never get the funding, until they did.
And they were content. Even throughout the whole uprising of You-Know-Who, they always had each other, Fred almost regressing each evening to let out his feelings of fear and anxiety, and George making sure that he was safe, able to keep his brother happy.
Their ritual became a safety net for the both of them, just being there with each other, each evening Fred lying in George's arms, drinking his bottle, and sucking his paci while he listened to George telling him that all would be well and they would get through this as well.
And then the battle of Hogwarts happened, and after it could never be right again.
Cause how could he be in this world when Fred wasn't?
They had never been more then part of a whole, and now with his brother and little gone, he could never be whole again.
All there was left was just him, the one who told his brother that it was all going to be okay, that they would win the war and they would be safe and their joke shop would be the biggest in the whole wizarding world.
George just… he couldn't, not without Fred. He couldn't make their dreams come true, because without Fred, there were no dreams anymore.
Ron saw him slip in the depression, the joke shop staying closed for weeks after the battle, for weeks after the funeral.
"I'll take care of it," Ron said to his brother, "just, let me help you. Don't let this end your dreams,"
"If you want," George had shrugged, not really caring that the shop would fail, that his money would dwindle until he couldn't afford his house anymore.
But Ron managed to keep it afloat, managing to run the business rather professionally and each evening after closing time, he made sure to visit George, telling him about all the happy children that they had served that day.
George tried to smile about it, listen, but he always go distracted, looking at the something of Fred lying around, or just the place where his brother had liked to curl up with a picture book or thinking about the way he would smile shyly at George when he slipped into headspace.
Ron must have clearly seen his distraction, because the next day, Percy was at the door.
Letting his older sibling and fellow caregiver in, they sat in silence for a while.
"It's hard," George finally said sounding tired, breaking the silence told his brother.
"I can't imagine how hard," Percy had said, compassion in his voice while he put his hand on George's, trying to comfort him.
George felt the hand on his, and he felt something in his chest tighten. Then the tears started falling without control and Percy stood up, awkwardly putting his arms around George who cried in his shoulder, Percy murmuring comforting nonsense.
Percy stayed with him through the night, and for once George slept soundly, curled up in his big brother, who hadn't slept a wink that night. But he had stayed, making sure that George was all right, cooking him breakfast and all, and even commenting on the way he was looking half-starved, almost sounding like their mother.
"You going to be okay?" Percy asked after they had eaten, showing concern for his brother. Ever since the war, Percy was doing his best to get back into the family, but it was difficult for him. The man had knew he had burned some bridges by believing in the ministry.
"It was hard for us," George said, not answering the question, "but we had each other. You had no one,"
"I had all of you guys," Percy said, "I just didn't appreciate it,"
George looked at him, remembering their childhood. Oh, his parents loved them, but they were just too many, and even though Percy was praised for his brains, he had always been rather reclusive in their household, never demanding or needing attention. That just meant that he hadn't received any extra either.
"You were a kid," George said, whishing once again for Fred to be there. Percy looked at him hesitantly, and George realized the man probably needed to go to work.
"Don't worry about me. I still have the joke shop," he said, smiling at his older brother, who still looked as if he didn't want to go, but nodded none the less.
Yeah, he still had the joke shop, but to be honest, without Fred there, it was worth nothing.
Pulling back more and more from the world, he could only find joy in Fred's things. His favorite blankie to take to bed. His paci with flying broomsticks on it, his stuffies, all tattered and worn, but greatly loved.
George took them to his bed, pretending that Fred had put them there, pretending he had been in headspace and wanted to be close to his brother, cuddling in the morning before they got up and went to work.
And then it started to happen.
Waking up one day, the bed was wet, and to his surprise, he noticed that he had wetted himself. Cursing, he quickly cast a cleaning charm on himself and the stuffies, not wanting them to be damaged.
And he wouldn't have thought anything weird about it, if it didn't happen again, and again.
It took him two weeks before he gave in, wearing the diapers his brother normally needed when he was in headspace.
Feeling rather silly, he felt his mind start to slip a little, and he started to enjoy the toys from his brother, pretending that Fred was there with him and that they were playing with the train together, like they did when they were small.
More and more he had these moments, trying to pretend he didn't when Ron came to visit him to tell him about the shop.
But each time he let himself slip, each day he became a little happier, and Ron seemed to be smiling a lot more and talking more animatedly, seeing the improved attitude in his brother, and even once or twice he had been able to lure George to the joke shop.
And then Percy visited him, unexpectedly, in the middle of him playing with the trains. Making sure the diaper he was wearing was covered, he let his brother in, trying to pretend that he was all normal and well.
Percy stepped in the room, and looked around in surprise, the toys and trains scattered around the room, and George not looking completely like he usually did, but he couldn't put his finger on it why.
"George, are you feeling okay?" Percy asked eventually, casting a concerned look on his brother. George's first instinct was to make a joke and divert attention, and his second was to lie. But this was Percy, his brother, and also a caregiver. He would be able to sense what was happening with George soon enough. Swallowing nervously, he finally said out loud what was happening to him, admitting to what he was doing.
"I'm…I'm going in headspace," George said, looking seriously at his older brother, wanting to imprint that this wasn't some kind of practical joke.
"You…what?" Percy asked in surprise.
"I started to wet the bed," George said with a blush, knowing that it was nothing to be ashamed off, but still feeling embarrassed about it, "and now I'm playing with the toys, like playing playing,"
"You're having a reversal?" Percy stated, giving the name to the syndrome of a person changing his designation due to a trauma. Rare, but it happened.
"Yes," George stated, "I'm sorry,"
"No, don't be sorry," Percy said, looking thoughtful. It was weird and unexpected, and he wasn't sure how to deal with it, but his brother had taken him in confidence, "perhaps…do you want me to be there, when you are little?"
"I would like that a lot," George confessed, having always felt lonely ever since Fred had died, "do you want to play with me?"
"Uhm, yeah, sure," Percy said unsurely, because even though he was a caregiver, he wasn't an experienced one, "you'll have to explain it a little to me though, George,"
"Fred," George said.
"What?" Percy asked, looking slightly shocked at the sudden mention of the name, and George realized that it been the first time he had heard it spoken out loud since the funeral of his brother.
"When I'm little, call me Fred," George said, the thought suddenly feeling liberating. Of course. Fred was the little, not George. And he and Fred had ever been part of a whole.
Percy stared at him, feeling out of his depth, but the desperation on his brother's face was palpable.
"Okay Fred, why don't we play now," Percy said with a fragile smile, and George smiled widely back at him, starting to explain to his big brother just how they would play with the trains, and for a moment, he could pretend that it was Fred that survived, and him that didn't.