I knock quietly on the door and wait for an answer, as I think about how I will be getting Fred back for this as quickly and carefully as possible.

'You don't have to knock, just come in." He yells through the door. I grumble and push my way into the boys room. George is rummaging through the cupboard in the corner looking for something in particular. Place myself just beyond the door and awkwardly fold my hands. As many times as I had been in their room, I had never been alone with just one of them in it.

He rifles through the clothes for a few more seconds before turning to me, "You don't have to just stand there, sit while I look."

"A-alright..." I sigh before placing myself lightly on his bed. Any attempt to get myself to relax has been squandered at the thoughts in my head. What if he knows? What if I Oliver does eventually write and apologize? What if– I am immediately ripped from my thoughts by George crouching in front of me, a light jacket in hand. His expression is unreadable, but the closeness is palpable.

"What's gotten into your head and made you scared of me?" He asks suddenly veiled with a strange expression. He looks sad, yet remorseful as if he had done something wrong.

"I-I'm not scared of you. I'm scared of myself and what I have done." The words exit my mouth without permission, as if I hadn't created them. His hand grazes my knee and lands on the bed near my side, as if to hold me in place.

"What do you mean?"

"I feel as though every bad thing that has happened this year was, in some way, connected to me. I almost feel like I can't even face Toria. These visions tell me to run, maybe I should run from myself." again the words pour out and I feel at a loss for what has happened. Suddenly his hand reaches my face, his thumb brushing at my cheek. As he pulls away I realize he has brushed away a tear. When did I start crying? Why am I like this? This is not me.

"This isn't you, (Y/n/n)." He reads my mind. "You wouldn't do this to us. Especially not to Toria. Something has happened this year that none of us understand. I promise we will talk this through more later. Let's get you up and see your best friend. She has been asking for you." He pulls me to my feet and helps me put on the jacket, I feel as if my movements are made for me. He holds me by the shoulders giving me a hard look.

"I have got you. We will make it through this." He pulls me behind him out the door and down the stairs, never once letting go of my hand.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Anyone else terrified?" I shutter as we approach the door.

"It'll be alright." Fred smiles and George squeezes my hand. Fred knocks quietly and hears a faint acknowledgement before opening the door. We slowly huddle into the room and make our way to her bed. She looks as good as one could after a fall like that her face lights up as she sees us, attempting to sit up.

"Hey, relax, no need to rush, we'll be here for a while." Fred jokes. Her gaze falls on me and she beams, beckoning me closer for a hug. I let go of George's hand for the first time since leaving and sit softly on her bedside. Her eyes dart to it and then the jacket, eyebrows raised. I shake my head and embrace her. No words need to be said. We sit in eachothers arms for what feels like an eternity. It is calm and suddenly I feel better. She is my person.