Disclaimer: I don't own Being Human.

Summary: UK. The mourning process is never easy, but somehow George manages. "I think John would be a nice name, Nina." GeorgeMitchell, some GeorgeNina, set after 3.08, oneshot

So, yeah, I've been wanting to write something for the aftermath of the Series 3 finale for a while, and I finally got the time to do so. Here it is! It's a GeorgeMitchell, if you squint a looott, basically. I really hope y'all enjoy this!


Rebuild


George Sands has trouble sleeping.

It has been this way ever since, ever since...

Ever since the stake pierced his best friend's chest, going straight into the heart of the matter, ending his suffering and his pain and his future enslavement all at once. The chaos of it is enough to make the head spin.

Even though he freed Mitchell, that very act of supposed kindness has carved wounds into everyone he knows.

Wounds that George knows won't ever fully close. Wounds that would require more than emotional stitching, more than any kind of surgery. Wounds that are more painful than anything he's ever experienced in his short life, which seems so very long right now.

He keeps having the image in his head, of Mitchell's - oh, it even hurts to think his name - last moments. Of the sound as the stake penetrated his immortal body. Of the look on his face, first of shock and then of relief.

"I'm doing this because I love you."

"I know."

He finds that the scene runs through his mind on loop, without his command. He keeps thinking of other things he could've done, but Mitchell was in so much pain that he couldn't help himself. He knew that he had to do something, and he did, even if that decision was the thing putting them all in such pain right now, at this very moment.

He doesn't think he's ever seen Annie so melancholy. She floats around the house as if on auto-pilot, not knowing what to do with herself. It's one of the worst things he's ever been witness to, and to think that she's so sad because Mitchell's gone because George himself put a bit of wood through his heart...that hurts more than anything. That somehow George is responsible for this.

Nina isn't the same, either. With the ever expanding bulge of her belly, she seems more sad than anything, despite the natural glow the pregnancy gives her. One night, he found her sleeping, a notebook and a pen balanced on her stomach. The paper was divided into two sections - Boys and Girls - and the first name in the former category was one singular, simple name.

John.

That night was one of many that George went to sleep with tearstains on his cheeks.

Somehow, they all find a rhythm. There was a lot of compensating to do after the death of someone they all cared about so. George finds that he has never felt so desolate in his life. He doesn't think anything has impacted his life as much as the loss of the vampire, which is saying something.

He's not sure when Annie starts to smile again, but she does. It's a relief to all of them. As if they were waiting for her cue that everything was alright, Nina and George smile back. The action feels foreign to both of them, the small house where they have resided for so long now seems to have been missing that vital part of their makeup - the ability to be happy.

The emptiness is still there, the dreams still come, but somehow George bears it and grins the next day. He has to give his best for Annie, for Nina, for his child.

"I'm doing this because I love you."

There the words are again, echoing in his head. They seem to run a loop so quickly that they almost muddle together, until all he can hear is, "I love you."

George finds a pace to work at. Slow and steady, like the turtle, of course. He can't see himself going at a fast pace at all, not with Mitchell's death fresh in his mind. But he tries, tries for all of them.

The days pass by like clockwork - mechanical, unfeeling, uncaring. Time doesn't know that Mitchell is gone, so it keeps moving forward, even though George feels like he can't. He does, though. He has to.

One night, after tossing and turning for a while, he remembers. He doesn't know why it happens, or how, but he remembers all of the good times, before any of the problems reared their ugly head. He remembers Mitchell's smile, his laugh, the cadence of his voice. The way that he carried himself. The way he looked at Annie. The way he looked at him.

He remembers all of these things about John Mitchell and smiles.

In a moment of foreign joy, he turns on his side and nudges Nina awake. She groans for a bit and then looks blearily up at him, "What is it, George?"

Out of the blue, he says, "I think John would be a nice name, Nina."

The blonde looks at him for a while, as if trying to comprehend what he's saying. She stares at him for a bit, uncomprehendingly, before blinking blearily and smiling at him. She leans forward and gives him a kiss on his cheek. "Me too," she says, "now try to get some sleep."

George nods at her and she turns over on her side away from him. There's a strange sort of peace that settles over him at that moment, and he finds himself smiling as he settles into the blankets and wraps an arm around her.

That night, George Sands sleeps soundly for the first time.


End.

Mmkay, and here it is. My latest venture into the Being Human fandom. I actually kinda liked this piece. It was slightly jumbled and stuff but that's kind of how I wanted it to seem. Anyway, I hope that y'all enjoyed this fic. I know I enjoyed writing it. I would love to hear your opinions on this little fic of mine.

Thanks so much for reading!