Awakening (Fred Weasley)

NINE

Elle's POV
Remember when my mum died? How I went all depressed and emotionless? Yeah, well, it's happening again.

Over the next two weeks that they kept me in St. Mungo's I hardly felt anything. I hardly felt the cold floor on my bare feet when they took me on a walk around the halls. I hardly felt the coarseness of the sheets on the bed. I hardly heard the sounds of wheel chair wheels squeaking, potion bottles bouncing on moving potion carts, or the voices of doctors delivering life changing news to the families of other patients.

None of it matters. My best friend is gone. My boyfriend is in a coma. Does my uncomfortableness really matter? No. It doesn't.

I don't know whether to anticipate the days when George will come in with Callie or to dread them. Anticipate them because I would see my best friend and his child; dread them because Callie looks so much like Betty it hurts.

I was trying and failing to sleep when George came in, a squirming Callie in his arms.

"Hey, Elle."

"Hi, George," I responded, wincing when I realized that my voice still sounds weak.

He sat down in the chair in between Fred and I's beds. "So, erm, Elle, I have a question."

I took in his nervous expression. "What is it, George?"

"Could I move into the flat with you? Just for a little bit, I prom-" George rambled.

"Of course, George." I cut him off.

Fred didn't look to be waking up anytime soon. I don't think I could stand to be alone in the flat anyway.

My lead healer already had someone from the pysch ward come to check me over. Turns out, I'm already showing signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Is that so surprising? I mean, I was in a battle! I was nearly killed! My best friend died and my boyfriend is in a coma!

Noises such as yelling and crashing are my triggers. It's almost like an anxiety attack. I can't breathe. Fear pools in my stomach. I want to hide. My hands go to my head in an attempt to protect my head from the ruble that I expect to crush me.

So, it probably wouldn't be a good idea to be alone in the flat right now.

Me and George didn't talk much. Neither of us particularly wanted to.

George handed Callie to me, as he always did so that he could sit beside Fred.

I always loved seeing how much Callie changed in the days when I didn't see her. Small details, like the length of her hair or how easily she would grab my finger.

George would usually stay past lunch before leaving with Callie. Don't ask me where he goes, because I honestly don't know.

Callie already loves to look around. She looks at everything. I move her every once in a while so that she has different things to look at.

She has her mother's sapphire eyes and her father's red hair. It's quite the combination.

Her mother. I tried to get the healers to allow me to go to her funeral. They wouldn't let me because I "might fall unconscious at any moment." How ridiculous is that? George came in after it, dressed nicely in a black suit. Callie was dressed in a little black dress and booties. The sight of them broke my heart.

George finally broke the silence. "Do you know when they're letting you out?" he asked quietly.

"No," I told him.

A knock on the door halted any other conversation George and I might have had.

I never answered to knocks, as people would come in anyway.

Sammy poked her head in. "You decent?"

She came in. "Hey, George. Hey, Elle."

"Hi," we said quietly at the same time.

Sammy spotted Callie in my arms. "Callie!" She said excitedly as she made her way over to my bed.

Sammy scooped Callie out of my arms, excited to get her hands on the baby girl.

Sammy whispered excitedly to Callie. I didn't bother listening to what Sammy was telling Callie.

It was times like this, someone acting normal, that made me want to cry. How can anyone be acting like nothing happened? People died. People were hurt.

I pushed those thoughts away. I didn't want to start hating my best friend.

Sammy was just trying to get my thoughts off of the battle. She wasn't trying to make me mad.
----
I was alone again. Sammy left with Callie earlier, promising George that she would have her home before her bedtime.

George left about an hour after Sammy. Before he left, he sat beside me.

"He's going to wake up, right?"

I looked at him. "I hope so."

George nodded and looked at his hands. "He's tough. He doesn't want to leave us. He'll wake up."

I didn't know if he was talking to me or trying to reassure himself. I put my hand on his shoulder. "You're right," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

George sat there for a moment before getting up. He kissed my forehead and left without a word.

So now I'm alone with my thoughts. I tried reading. I tried going to the cafeteria. None of it worked. I didn't feel like doing anything.

I managed to sit beside Fred. I held his hand.

I scanned him. He looked so... innocent. A healer cleaned all the dirt from his face a couple weeks ago. He appeared to be sleeping. Which he is, I suppose. They put a muggle machine called a ventilator in his mouth and neck to help him breathe. They did that so that a healer wouldn't always have to be in here to help him breathe. If it weren't for the ventilator, one might actually think he was only sleeping and that he would wake up any moment. It's too bad I know the truth.

C'mon Fred. Wake up. Wake up. I can't do this without you.