One foot ahead of the other

Summary

He just lay there, and you just cried.

Author's note

I still cannot believe that Fred died. I still cry for him still. Crazy, I know. But I love him so!!! I wonder what happens to George after he died so this fic came to be. It's kind of sad and depressing but please review

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It was your worse nightmare, the worst moment in your life. It started when you scream out at them, 'Where's my twin?!?' It started when you screamed out that hollow question and no one answered you. It started when they avoided your eyes and tried to hold back their own tears. And you get that sinking feeling in your stomach, the feeling that something is horribly wrong.

The nightmare became a reality when you push your family aside and found your twin, your brother lying still on the cold marble floor. You heart stopped when you see his white, pale face and those blue eyes so identical to yours that were empty of life. You felt like your whole had stopped, that all the breath had been sucked from your lungs. You dropped to your knees and grabbed his robes. You cried your heart out. You didn't want it to be true; you didn't want to believe this was happening. You expected him to open his eyes and tell you it was all a joke. You wanted him to show you any signs of life that he was still breathing, that he hadn't already left you.

But he didn't… He just lay there, and you just cried.

You had never felt so alone. The images of moments you shared together, the moments that you laughed together, cried together, live together. It was pain, pain beyond imaginable. You and he had talked before about dying. He had planned it with you that if they should die, it would be together. 'We' and 'Us' were all the words you had ever known. And now, you realized, with half your soul gone, that you're now just George. You felt your heart dropped. You knew, from that moment on, that you had lost your twin, that he would never come back, and that you had to live without him for the first time in your life… You ignored your mother's cries next to you. You ignored your brother's hand on your shoulder. You bent down next to the head of your twin.

He just lay there, and you just cried.

You felt hate surged up inside you; hate for the people who had taken the life of your brother, your best friend. The flames of revenge blazed within you and you knew you would never give up until they all pay for what they did. You would kill them, all of them. Make them hurt so much, make every one of their screams worth his tears.

That hatred was your power. That hatred drove you to stand up again. It drove you to pull out your wand and rushed head long into the battle. You didn't feel a single thing when you brought them all down, except hatred. You thought of Fred's face and you didn't give up. Inside you, you had gone numb. You couldn't feel anymore.

When it was all over, you escaped the celebration. You wanted to be by yourself; to remember; to cry; to grieve. It was like your world had crumbled and left you in shredded pieces. You're no longer whole. You lost half your soul, half your being.

You went to catch a glimpse of him again when everyone had moved him into a deserted classroom. Few people were there. You walked up to him and you begged him with tears to come back. You begged him not to leave you alone. You didn't now how you could carry on without him.

But he just lay there, and you just cried.

The days after the battle were a blur. His funeral was a blur. You sat in the front with your family, while your mum cried desperately and your siblings shed tears. You weren't crying. You just stared straight ahead and didn't hear a word the minister was saying. Your father had asked you to say a few words about your twin, but you couldn't do it. You said no and told him there was no way you could find the words to tell everyone how much he meant to you. Your father looked heartbroken. He tried to reach out and hug you, but you turned away.

You stood at his grave and watched them put a tombstone on it. You watched them put down the words; 'Fred Weasley ; beloved son, brother, and twin' You looked at those words, and looked at the grave. You couldn't believe that he had gone.

You shut yourself in your room after that day. You kept the room just as it once was. You expected him to walk through the door and flashed you his cocky smile. You couldn't look in the mirror for days. It hurt too much. When someone talked to you, you caught yourself using 'we' instead of 'I' When your mother tried to wash your clothes for you, you called the clothes 'Ours' not 'Mine' Sometimes you stopped in the middle of your sentence and expected him to cut in and finish it like he used to. But there was silent. And you couldn't bear it anymore. You turned your back on your family and walked back upstairs. It hurt too much.

Your family tried talking to you. Your friends visited but it all seemed useless. You didn't go back to the shop. You tried to laugh and smile, but it still hurt too much.

Then one day Harry Potter came up to you. He told you about the night of the battle when he walked back into the forest ready to die, and how he used the stone to see his loved ones again. He told you how they surrounded him and protected him from the Dementors. They were like his shield and the reason he put one foot ahead of the other. He told you that this is what you were supposed to do; live. Fred would have wanted that.

You cried after Harry left. You didn't come down for supper. You knew he was right but you couldn't let go. You visited Fred's grave again next morning. You stood there, staring blankly at his name.

The strength to put one foot ahead of the other. You had to do it. You had to move on.

You left his grave and you never came back again for a long time. You tried to smile more, and laugh more, and make jokes. You think of him and the thought of him now drove you forwards. You returned to the shop and it tore your heart apart for a second when you stared into the picture of the two of you, arms around each other, hanging in the shop.

You carried on. You grit your teeth and you live. You enjoyed life and you made people laugh like you used to. You fell in love with a beautiful girl and got married. And she gave you twins. Two boys. You raised your family, you work, you tried to make the world a better place. You tried to live the life he never got to live. But the memory of him, your twin, resided in you still, like a faded picture kept under all the new things life brings. Your life seemed to be always incomplete, and it divided into two universes, one with Fred in it, and the other with Fred gone.

You live on, and the years without Fred were now longer than the year you had each other. You think of him still and wondered what he would say if he could see you now. Sometimes you talk to him when you have no one else to talk too. You tell your children about him, and how you and he had once been. You knew now that he lives in you still. It doesn't hurt so much anymore.

After nineteen years you visited his grave for the first time in a long while. You stared at the name on the tombstone. You told him how much you miss him, how sorry you were that he could not see you now, and told him how much you love him. You wanted him to appear right then and there beside you and shake your hand. You wanted him to wake up and laugh with you again. You wanted him to see you so you could show him your wonderful wife and your two gorgeous sons. You wanted him to see how you had continued with the shop you and he had started together a long time ago. You wanted so many things and none of them would come true.

He just lay there, and you just cried.