seedee

Title: Lost in Reality
Characters: George, Lee
Rating: PG-13 for this part (highest rating for an individual chapter: R)
Word Count: ~1000 (~40,000 for all parts)
Warnings for all chapters: Drug use, violence, canon character death
Summary: Reality is the state or quality of being real. But what is real? And more importantly, what is not real?

This was prompted by

secretsolitaire a very long time ago. It was supposed to be a ficlet. The ficlet will grow to about 25,000 to 30,000 words (give or take a few). I've so far written a good chunk of it and will update regularly. This part is short; the following chapters will be longer.
Many thanks and smooches to

anise_anise for motivating me to post instead of bin it, and

tania_sings for the beta work.

Update 2010/05/08: Completed.

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten

Lost in Reality

First Glimpse

Lee arrived at the little hut in the middle of nowhere just after dusk. He hesitated before entering, staring at the rough wood, noticing the light spilling out through the cracks between the boards. He heard laughter and was torn between wanting to go inside to join in, and wanting to turn around and go back home, burying his head under his pillow and sleeping everything away. There was no one else who'd come, though, and not enough time in one life to sleep this mess away.

He opened the door, taking in the familiar scene and smiling despite himself. Candles cast a cozy and warm light. They painted shadows on the walls and gave the whole room a soft glow.

"There you are," Fred said, still half laughing from something George had said. "We've been waiting for ages. Sit down and have a drink."

"Pining, really," George added and looked at Lee with a hesitant sort of smile.

"I'm sure you were." Lee entered the small room, closing the door behind himself. He went over to the battered couch where both of the twins were sitting with their feet propped up on the lopsided coffee table. It had seen better times - so had Lee. He ran his hand over his head and tugged at the band that held his dreads at his nape until they came free and framed - half hid - his face.

"Stay for a bit," George said.

Lee sat down on the only chair in the room. None of them said a word during the long moments of heavy silence.

"How was your day?" Fred asked eventually, making a face and taking a deep pull from a bottle of ale. "Why so somber?"

Lee shrugged. "The usual."

Fred grinned. "Here we are, young, handsome, talented, on a mission and... gloomy? Not on." He grabbed an unopened bottle from the floor next to the sofa and tossed it to Lee who caught it easily. "Be reasonable and drown your sorrows. Catch up, man."

Lee used the seat of his chair to open the bottle, not bothering to pick up the cap that fell to the floor. The ale was bitter and strong, and Lee was surprised at how good it tasted. He relaxed. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"World domination," Fred said. "I think the three of us could make it work."

Lee nodded and took another swig of his ale. George was smiling, leaning against his brother who looked at them puzzled.

"You two are like sacks full of potatoes tonight," Fred said. "Sluggish, knobbly in all the wrong places and no fun at all."

George shook his head, laughing; it didn't sound true. "There are places where knobbles are acceptable?" Then he raised his hands. "Don't answer that." He looked over at Lee and sobered visibly. "Have some fun, mate."

"I'm thoroughly enjoying myself," Lee muttered in response and emptied his beer in one long pull. He pressed his fingers against his closed eyes for a moment before he continued to speak. "How long are you going to keep this up, George?" he asked and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jumper.

"Don't," George said. "Not now."

"Oh yes. Now's exactly the time. Come on, George, talk. What exactly are you doing here?" Lee looked over at Fred. It wasn't Fred's fault, but sometimes Lee couldn't help blaming him. The guilt that always came with that train of thought was like a constant sting high in his chest.

"That's not fair," George said in a low voice.

"Oh really?" Lee asked. "Welcome to the real world."

"Fuck off, Jordan."

Fred was silent and looking at them as if waiting for someone to tell him what to say. Lee snorted. He was sick of it. "Let's go," he said.

"Where to?" George asked.

"Let's go," Lee repeated. "You can't stay here. You'll have to go back."

"To Aunt Muriel's?"

"Oh, fuck you, George. Stop it."

Fred finally got up from the sofa. He was frowning and narrowed his eyes. "What's up with you?" he asked Lee. "Is there a reason you're talking to him like that?"

"Shut up," Lee said.

"Don't you dare or-" George started, his wand raised.

"Or what?" Lee interrupted. "Are you going to hex me? Go ahead. I'm sure that'll make everything better."

George looked at him for long moments before he muttered a spell. The room lost its colour slowly; it disappeared into darkness. "You're not helping, Lee," was the last thing he heard before the familiar feeling of disorientation set in.

Lee held his breath as always and waited until the sensation of spinning was gone. The sight of the WWW workroom didn't calm him. He'd loved the clutter of magical objects, the different sized cauldrons with different coloured potions bubbling merrily in them and the shelves full of ingredients and half-finished products. That's how it had been before. Now it was dark and dusty with only one cauldron heated.

"You have to stop doing this," Lee said as George was about to leave the room.

George turned around. Dark circles were under his eyes, his shoulders were hanging, his hair was unkempt. "Who are you, Jordan?" he asked, the words harsh and stinging. "You don't look like my mother or my father or anyone else who has a right to judge me."

I'm your best friend, Lee thought, but didn't say it out loud. He watched him leave and banged his fist against the table, wincing at the pain. A small vial moved on the surface with a soft clinking sound. Lee caught it before it rolled off the edge. It had been filled with the advanced daydream potion that George took to escape his life more often than was good for him. And it was the same vial that Lee had refilled to follow him.

***

Next

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten