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Written for Hogwarts Muggle Studies Assignment 4. Write about Death. Cannot be a character that died in Canon.

Written for the Disney Character Competition - Sneezy. (Prompt - Wings)

Splintered

George stared at the empty bed beside his. It had never been empty before. Wherever George had a bed, Fred had always been in the one beside his, usually snoring away. Instead, the room was silent and empty, and he was all alone.

George wasn't sure how to be alone. He had always been one of two, half of one person that had been irreparably broken. He stared at the empty bed beside his, and wondered how he was supposed to live when half of him was forever gone. He was splintered in half, and there was nothing that could fix him.

x.x.x

Fred floated a few inches above his bed. Or rather, what had been his bed, because he didn't own anything now, did he? It was an odd feeling, being dead. He watched his twin sadly. Fred would give anything to have George see him, if only for a minute. He needed to tell George to snap out of it.

Fred had seen how worried their parent's were about George. How worried their brothers, and especially their little sister, were about him. How could Fred make George see that he didn't blame him for living. He didn't want him to grieve, and force the others to watch as he disappeared bit by bit day by day.

x.x.x

Occasionally, emotion and feeling would return to George, if only for a little while. Mostly, he felt angry. How could mum and dad, and his brothers and sister, all move on so easily? How could they continue to live their lives when Fred, his Fred, was gone from the world?

He felt angry at Fred for leaving him. They had each promised the other that they would keep themselves safe, keep themselves alive. Why did Fred have to go and die, and leave him all alone with nothing left? He had broken his word, his promise. For the first time, Fred wasn't there when George really needed him, and he hated Fred for it.

He hated himself for even thinking it.

x.x.x

Molly bustled around the kitchen, laying the table for breakfast. She glanced, occasionally, at the stairs. Would today be the day that George snapped out of his grief long enough to join the family for breakfast? Arthur, and the others, had long since given up hope, but she couldn't. Giving up hope would be like giving up on George, and she couldn't lose another son.

She just couldn't.

x.x.x

The noise of a loud and raucous Weasley gathering reached George's room, but he didn't hear it. He didn't want to hear it. It should be him and Fred down there, making them all laugh so much their sides hurt, messing around and being shouted at by mum. It should be him and Fred sitting side by side in their usual seats, making fun of Ronnikins and Hermione, or playing pranks on Percy.

It didn't occur to George that he could be down there. That he wasn't dead.

x.x.x

Arthur wrapped an arm around Molly. It was two am, and she had woken up sobbing again, a nightmare that should have been over when she woke. But it wasn't over, and they were living the nightmare she suffered in her sleep every night. Fred already had his wings, was already gone, already dead, leaving a missing piece in all of them. George, as much as it killed Arthur to admit it, even in his own head, was as good as gone.

Occasionally, there would be a sign, a quirk of an eyebrow when one of them took food to him, a ghost of a smile when he heard someone mention Fred in passing around him, that would give Arthur hope for the return of his son, but it was always dashed by the blank eyes and empty face that soon returned.

As Arthur comforted his wife, he wondered silently how long it would be until they were missing two sons instead of one.

x.x.x

Ron opened the shop, and he sold the goods that the twins were known for. Lee worked tirelessly in the back making more of the same products. Hermione balanced the books as best she could while also studying to be a healer. Harry helped Ron in the front whenever he had spare time, and Ginny worked the weekends when she had time off from Quidditch.

All of them agreed that all the work involved was too much for just two people, but Fred and George managed it. They also agreed that when George came back to work, they would stay on to help him until he got back into the swing of things. No one mentioned what would happen if George didn't come back. None of them wanted to admit that they were barely keeping in a straight line.

None of them admitted that they couldn't let the shop die, because it would be like losing Fred all over again.

x.x.x

George held the knife steady, staring at his wrist in anticipation. Would it hurt? He doubted it. He was already numb. He had finally accepted that he couldn't live without Fred. An impossibility, like trying to live with half a heart, or half a brain. The truth sunk in slowly, and he wondered why it had taken as long as it had.

Had he tried? He didn't know. He didn't want to try now, he just wanted Fred.

"Georgie, don't do this," a voice, almost a whisper, like the whistle of the wind, echoed through the room.

Tears fell to George's cheeks as he heard it.

"I have to."

"No, you don't. Live, Georgie, live for both of us."

"I can't. I don't know how. Stay with me?"

George choked over the words, but he could feel a presence. For just a moment, he felt whole again.

"I never left."

x.x.x

A smash of plates and a scream alerted the family that something was wrong. It was Arthur that reached the sobbing Molly first, and he knew, even as he left the kitchen, what she had found. He held her in his arms as they sobbed together for their son, for both of their sons.

Bill arrived next, and he reached over to close the door, leading his parents back down the stairs.

Arthur held Molly close as Bill took care of calling the family home.

"They're together, Molls. At least now, they're together."