Work Text:
Angelina found him standing in front of the opened closet. They were moving out of the flat above the shop towards a more family-friendly home and he had gone up to clean out his closet. His eyes were unseeing, hands dropped down his side, shoulders hanging, a forlorn look in his features. He didn’t show any outward reaction upon her entering the room.
“George?” she laid her hand on his back, coming to stand by his side.
That was when she saw what he was staring at. His gaze was directed towards a jumper that was on the back of the shelf, a big ‘F’ knitted in the front.
“Oh, George,” she sighed and wrapped him in her arms, letting his head drop to her shoulder. His hands came to cradle her swollen stomach, attempting to hold on to them like he hadn’t been able to hold on to his brother.
She heard him say something against her chest, but his voice was muffled by her blouse.
“Do you want to repeat that?” she smiled. His head lifted to look her in the eye.
“We’ll call him Fred.”