Still ; George Weasley

One-hundred and sixty-five

I met my sisters boyfriend today.

He's hot.

He's also really nice and he seems to deeply care about my sister, which means that I do not have to kill him.

-

With my hands pushed into my pockets, I approached Marco's bed at the hospital.

Will was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Timmy, but Marco sat in his bed, scrolling through a book while eating chips from McDonalds.

I placed myself by the bed and he paused when he realised I was there, then slowly looked up. When our eyes met, I looked down at the bed.

"George walked me here." I said. "He doesn't want me walking alone so... though he couldn't stay. He had to get back to the shop. But he— he told me to say hi."

Marco didn't say anything, but he motioned towards the chair where Timothy usually sat. I looked at him
in surprise, then walked over to sit down.

"How're you feeling?" I asked, seeing him shrug in response. "Not well, I suppose. I don't think anyone would feel well after..."

I ran a hand over my face.

"I'm really sorry about what happened." I said. "I wish I could go back and...— what I'm saying is that I should've let her just kill me rather than—"

Marco cleared his throat, and I looked at him. He looked like he was getting ready to say something, which would be a first for over a week.

Though as quickly as his mouth opened, it closed again.

"Why aren't you speaking?" I asked. "Please say something. Just one word."

Instead, he grabbed his chips, offering me one, but I shook my head and he shrugged before he continued eating them.

"It's okay." I said. "You don't have to talk. Not if you don't want to."

I ran my hands along my thighs, exhaling deeply.

"Just—" I pulled myself up to stand. "...I love you, okay? I'll come back when you want me to."

I went to leave, but I felt Marco grab my wrist, causing me to stop and look at him. He didn't say anything — just nodded towards the bed before making room for me to sit.

I continued looking at him, and when he patted the spot in front of him, I kicked off my shoes, joining him on the bed, crossing my legs.

Marco grabbed one of his chips, then grabbed my hand and placed it in it.

"Thanks." I muttered, and as I ate it, a small smile formed on his lips. "Not poisoned, is it?"

He rolled his eyes at my question, then he looked somewhere behind me, and as I turned, I saw Will approach.

"Allie... I thought you'd be at home." He said. "Didn't think you'd want to spend anymore time at the hospital than necessary."

I shrugged.

"George and Fred are working at the shop. I wanted to work too but they say I'm too traumatised to be working right now."

"They said that?"

"No." I breathed. "But it sounded like that was the point they were trying to make. Everyone are working so I decided to come here instead."

William nodded slowly before reaching over to grab one of Marco's chips, eating it.

"I'll borrow Allie for a minute." He said before he swatted my arm, motioning for me to follow him.

I sighed and looked at Marco whose attention had gone back to his book. I tapped my fingers against his knee before crawling off the bed, sliding into my shoes before I followed William out of the room and into the hallways.

"If you're going to throw me out, just save it." I sighed. "I'm not going home. I want to stay and spend some time with Marco. I—"

"Allie." William said softly, reaching out to wrap an arm around my shoulders before he pulled me into his embrace. "I'm not throwing you out."

I let out a small breath of relief before I hugged him back, enjoying the embrace of my older brother.

"Has he spoken to you?" I asked. "Just one word at least?"

William pulled away and shook his head as he looked at me. He sighed, folding his hands over his chest while looking towards the room.

"He's got something called selective mutism." He explained. "It's the most common in children with anxiety disorders but sometimes they appear in adults and sometimes it happens due to trauma."

"Oh—"

"It's not that he doesn't want to speak." He said. "It's the anxiety that comes with the trauma. The expectations to speak to so many people after what happened, triggered a freezing response and he's unable to speak."

"But—" I frowned. "...no. This is not what was supposed to happen. It wasn't. We weren't supposed to— Marco was happy. He got his new job and now..."

I shook my head.

"He's going to speak again, right?"

"With time." Will nodded. "He needs a lot of therapy and when he's ready, he'll start talking. He just— he needs time, Allie. We can't pressure him— that'll only make it worse."

"I'm not going to pressure him." I said. "I would never do that."

"I know."

I looked down at the floor.

"You need to tell me what happened." He said. "In order to help you and in order to help Marco. To help get him to speak again, we need to understand why he's not talking."

"Oh god." I breathed. "I can't do that."

"It's to help—"

"I can't!" I snapped, looking up at him. "A part of it isn't even my place to say."

"Allie—"

I gulped.

"Marco wasn't the only one being tortured." I said. "I want to help him, but I can't... you don't know how horrible it was."

"No, I don't." He shrugged. "But I want to help my husband get better so I need to know."

"But what about me?" I asked. "You say that pressuring Marco into talking will only get worse, but you don't even stop to think about me. I may still have a voice to use, but I've already told you I can't say it. I've tried... I tried telling George but I just— I can't fucking say it!"

William sighed.

"I'm sorry." He breathed. "Can I try and guess? Cos I've got an idea."

With a sigh, I shrugged.

"Did she rape him?"

I looked up at him, but I didn't say anything. William cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Did she?" He urged.

I inhaled sharply.

"She made me watch." I said quietly, hearing William sigh.

"Oh fuck."

Marco's cries echoed through my head as I remembered how terrible it was. How terribly I wanted to help him, but couldn't.

"I talked to George."

I looked up at Will.

"He told me Carrington made you do something." He said. "What did she make you do?"

"What?" My voice cracked. "N-nothing."

I wrapped my arms around myself, frowning at the floor.

"I'll go say goodbye to Marco, then I'm going home."

"You said you didn't want to—"

"I don't care." I shrugged. "I'm going home."