FicWad

Percy had pushed his body to the brink time and time again, but this time it was different. This time, his body finally gave out.

It happened during a routine training session, as he tried to prepare himself for the upcoming No-Ropes Exploding Barbed-Wire, Dynamite Pool Elimination Deathmatch. The intense regimen he'd imposed on himself, combined with the years of brutal matches, substance abuse, and mounting stress, finally took its toll. One moment, he was throwing punches at a heavy bag, and the next, his vision blurred, his knees buckled, and he collapsed on the gym floor, unconscious.

Lucius and Audrey, who had been overseeing his training, immediately rushed to his side. Within minutes, Percy was being whisked away to the hospital, barely clinging to life. The doctors worked frantically to stabilize him, administering several blood transfusions as they fought to save him. Percy hovered on the brink, his body riddled with injuries, his blood thinned by the overuse of painkillers and performance enhancers.

When Percy finally regained consciousness, the sterile white of the hospital room greeted him, a stark contrast to the chaotic life he'd been leading. The beeping of the heart monitor was steady, a reminder that he had narrowly escaped death.

The doctor, a stern-looking man with tired eyes, stood beside his bed, his expression grave. "Mr. Weasley, you’re lucky to be alive," he said, not mincing words. "If you continue down this path, you won’t be so lucky next time. Your body can’t take any more of this. You need to stop—immediately—or you will die."

Percy lay there, staring up at the ceiling as the doctor’s words sunk in. He had known for some time that he was pushing his limits, but he had always believed he could keep going, that he could push through anything. Now, faced with the reality of his situation, he felt a wave of fear and uncertainty wash over him. But he was also struck with something else—a fierce determination not to let this be the end.

Percy made the decision to turn to Eastern medicine, seeking out alternatives to the drugs and dangerous methods he had relied on for so long. He started undergoing acupuncture to help with his pain and recovery, and he began taking nothing but healthy herbs and vitamins to rebuild his strength. It was a slower process, a far cry from the instant relief he had grown accustomed to, but it was necessary. He knew he couldn’t continue down the same destructive path.

Just as he was beginning to settle into this new routine, the door to his hospital room creaked open. Percy looked up, expecting to see a nurse or perhaps Lucius, but instead, he was greeted by two familiar faces he hadn’t seen in years.

Bill and Charlie Weasley stood in the doorway, their expressions a mix of shock and concern. They had barely recognized their younger brother. Percy’s once-red hair was now a mix of unnatural hues, and his body, though muscular and fit, was marred with scars and signs of wear. His face, too, had changed—hardened by the brutal life he’d been leading.

For a moment, none of them spoke. The brothers simply stared at each other, the distance that had grown between them over the years palpable in the silence.

Bill was the first to break the silence, stepping forward slowly, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Percy…what have you done to yourself?"

Charlie, usually the more laid-back of the two, was visibly shaken as well. "We barely recognized you, Perce," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "What’s happened to you? What’s happened to our brother?"

Percy struggled to find the right words, his mind reeling from the sudden appearance of his brothers. He had cut ties with his family for so long that he had never imagined they would come looking for him, especially after everything that had happened.

"I… I didn’t expect to see you here," Percy finally managed to say, his voice hoarse from the ordeal he had just been through. He looked away, unable to meet their eyes.

Bill and Charlie exchanged a glance, then walked over to Percy’s bedside. Bill spoke first, his tone firm but compassionate. "We’ve been worried about you, Percy. We didn’t know where you were or what you were doing. Then we heard about… everything. The matches, the championships, the risks you’ve been taking."

Charlie nodded, his eyes filled with concern. "We were worried you were going to get yourself killed. And now, seeing you like this… Percy, we’re here because we care about you. We want to help you."

Percy felt a lump form in his throat, the emotions he had been suppressing for so long threatening to break free. "I didn’t think any of you would care," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "After everything that happened… I thought you’d all written me off."

"Never," Bill said firmly, reaching out to place a hand on Percy’s shoulder. "You’re our brother, Percy. We’re family. We’ve all made mistakes, but that doesn’t mean we stop caring about each other."

Charlie leaned in closer, his voice gentle but insistent. "Percy, you need to stop this. You need to come home. Whatever you’re trying to prove out here, it’s not worth your life."

Percy looked up at his brothers, seeing the sincerity in their eyes. For the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find his way back from the edge he had been teetering on for so long.

But even as he considered their words, the image of that final championship belt flashed in his mind. He had come so far, sacrificed so much, and the thought of walking away now, so close to achieving his goal, was almost unbearable.

"I don’t know if I can," Percy admitted, his voice trembling. "I’m so close, Bill… Charlie. I’m so close to being the best, to holding all ten championships. If I stop now…"

"Then what?" Bill interrupted gently. "You’ll be the best… and then what? Percy, you’ve already achieved more than anyone could have imagined. But what’s the point if it costs you everything? Your health, your life, your family?"

Charlie nodded in agreement. "We don’t want to lose you, Perce. Not to this. Please, come home."

Percy looked down at his hands, scarred and worn from the countless battles he had fought. The weight of their words pressed down on him, and for the first time, he truly questioned whether this path he had chosen was worth the price he was paying.

But there was still that part of him, the part that had been driven by ambition and the need to prove himself, that clung to the idea of finishing what he had started. It was a battle raging within him, one he wasn’t sure he could win.

"I’ll… think about it," Percy finally said, his voice filled with uncertainty. It wasn’t the answer Bill and Charlie had hoped for, but it was something.

"We’ll be here, Percy," Bill said, his voice filled with brotherly support. "Whenever you’re ready, we’ll be here."

Charlie squeezed Percy’s shoulder reassuringly. "You’re not alone in this, Perce. We’ll help you through it, no matter what."

As they left the room, Percy lay back against the pillows, his mind swirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions. The path ahead was unclear, and for the first time in years, he didn’t know what to do.

But one thing was certain: he couldn’t keep going the way he had been. Something had to change before it was too late.

In the meantime, Arthur and Molly entered the hospital room with a heavy mix of relief and dread. They had been told by the doctors just how close their son had come to death, and now, seeing him lying in the bed, pale and weak, the reality of the situation hit them like a ton of bricks. The Percy they had known—the proud, ambitious young man—was a shadow of his former self. He looked exhausted, physically and emotionally drained from the grueling life he had been leading.

Arthur approached the bedside cautiously, his heart breaking at the sight of his son. He had never imagined it would come to this, that Percy would end up in such a dire state. But as much as he wanted to address the rift between them, he knew that now was not the time. Percy’s health was too fragile, and the last thing Arthur wanted was to push him into a stressful conversation that could jeopardize his recovery.

“We’re not going to talk about the past right now,” Arthur said gently, taking Percy’s hand in his. He tried to keep his voice steady, though his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. “We just want you to focus on getting better, son.”

Molly, standing beside Arthur, was visibly shaken, her eyes red from crying. She reached out and smoothed Percy’s hair back, her touch tender and filled with maternal love. “We’re here for you, Percy. That’s all that matters.”

Percy, though groggy and weak, managed to offer a small, tired smile. The sight of his parents there, supporting him despite everything that had happened, brought him a sense of comfort he hadn’t realized he needed.

But before Percy could respond, Arthur’s expression darkened, and he couldn’t hold back the anger that had been simmering beneath the surface. “Lucius Malfoy,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “He’s the one who pushed you into this. If I ever get my hands on him—”

“No, Dad,” Percy interrupted, his voice weak but firm. He turned his head slightly to look at his father, his eyes filled with a strange mix of resignation and clarity. “This isn’t Lucius’s fault. He’s my manager… he just did his job. He offered me more and more opportunities, and I kept taking them. It was my choice.”

Arthur was taken aback by Percy’s words. He had expected his son to blame Lucius, to see him as the villain in all of this. But Percy’s acceptance of responsibility made Arthur pause, his anger cooling as he realized that his son’s situation was far more complex than he had initially thought.

Percy seemed to want to say more, but his eyelids grew heavy, and he began to trail off mid-sentence. “I just… I thought I could handle it… but… I…”

Suddenly, Percy’s eyes closed, and his body went limp. Arthur and Molly both panicked, their hearts lurching with fear.

“Percy?!” Molly cried out, her voice filled with alarm. “Percy, wake up!”

Arthur leaned over, shaking Percy’s shoulder gently but urgently. “Percy, come on, son, stay with us.”

Just as their fear began to spiral, a nurse rushed into the room, quickly assessing the situation. She saw the worry etched on their faces and immediately moved to reassure them.

“It’s okay,” the nurse said calmly, placing a hand on Molly’s shoulder. “He’s alright. We’ve given him a medication called Dilaudid. It’s a powerful pain reliever, and it’s going to help him sleep for an extended period of time. He needs the rest.”

Arthur and Molly both exhaled in relief, though their concern remained. The nurse’s explanation helped, but seeing Percy like this—so vulnerable and fragile—was a painful reminder of just how close they had come to losing him.

The nurse checked Percy’s vitals, ensuring that everything was stable, before turning back to the worried parents. “He’s in good hands here. We’re monitoring him closely, and right now, the best thing for him is rest. He’s been through a lot, but he’s strong. He’ll get through this.”

Molly nodded, her tears now flowing freely, but she managed a small smile of gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Thank you for taking care of our boy.”

Arthur, still holding Percy’s hand, squeezed it gently, as if trying to convey all the love and support he hadn’t been able to express before. “We’ll be here when you wake up, Percy,” he said softly. “We’re not going anywhere.”

The nurse gave them a reassuring nod before leaving the room, and Arthur and Molly settled into the chairs beside Percy’s bed, determined to stay by his side no matter how long it took.

As Percy slept, his parents sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The past was filled with regrets and misunderstandings, but now, all they could focus on was the hope that their son would recover, that they could begin to mend the fractured bond between them.

Arthur glanced at Molly, who was watching Percy with a mix of sadness and love. He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “We’ll get through this,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet determination. “We’ll help him find his way back.”

Molly nodded, though the tears continued to fall. “I just want him to be okay,” she whispered. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Arthur didn’t respond with words, but the look they shared said everything. They were in this together, and no matter how difficult the road ahead might be, they would face it as a family.

While this was happening, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny sat around the television in stunned silence, their eyes glued to the screen as Percy's brutal matches from the Triple J-Cup Tournament played out in front of them. They had heard stories of the violence in Frontier Martial Arts Wrestling, but nothing had prepared them for the sheer savagery of what they were witnessing.

On the screen, Percy—under the name Ryker Black—was thrown into the barbed wire that replaced the ropes of the ring. His body tangled in the sharp metal, cutting deep into his skin as the crowd erupted in cheers. Fred cringed, clenching his fists, while George shook his head in disbelief.

"How could anyone enjoy this?" Ginny whispered, her voice filled with disgust.

Ron remained silent, his jaw tight, but the anger in his eyes was unmistakable. They had all wanted to understand what Percy had gotten himself into, but the more they watched, the more they wished they hadn't. The brutality of the barbed wire match was horrifying enough, but they pushed through it, hoping it would get better. It didn't.

The second match began, the Taipei Death Match, and the horror only escalated. Percy's fists were taped, then coated in glue and rolled in broken glass. Every punch he threw, every hit he took, resulted in shards of glass embedding themselves into his skin. The sight of Percy's blood covering the ring, of him pushing through the pain, was too much.

"This is sick," George muttered, shaking his head as he rubbed his temples. "What kind of person does this to themselves?"

Fred had been quiet, his eyes locked on the screen, but his hand was trembling as he gripped the remote. He couldn't bear to see his brother in such agony, the man they had grown up with, who had once been so focused on his career at the Ministry, reduced to this.

After Percy's victory in the Taipei Death Match, Fred had finally had enough. He reached for the remote and switched off the TV. "I can't watch this anymore," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "There's no point in watching the fire deathmatch. We already know he won. We know how it ends."

Ginny wrapped her arms around herself, trying to shake the disturbing images from her mind. "How could anyone cheer for that? Why would Percy keep doing this?"

Ron, his face pale with anger, leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. "He's destroying himself," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "For what? A few belts? For people who don't even care about him?"

As they sat there in a stunned silence, trying to process what they had just witnessed, the phone rang. Ginny, still shaken, got up and answered it. Her face went pale as she listened to the voice on the other end.

She turned to the others, her eyes wide with fear. "It's about Percy," she said, her voice trembling. "He's in the hospital…in critical condition."

The room fell into a stunned silence, the weight of her words hitting them like a hammer. Fred and George exchanged a look of disbelief, while Ron's anger dissolved into pure fear.

"Critical condition?" Fred repeated, his voice hoarse.

Ginny nodded, her hands shaking. "They don't know if he's going to make it."

For a moment, no one knew what to say. The realization that Percy's obsession with wrestling had brought him to the brink of death was too much to process. Ron felt a lump forming in his throat as the anger he had been holding onto for so long gave way to a wave of sorrow.

"We need to go see him," George said, standing up, his face pale but determined.

Fred nodded in agreement, his usual joking demeanor replaced by a somber seriousness. "Whatever's happened, he's still our brother. We need to be there for him."

Ron, struggling to hold back the tears, stood up as well. "We'll get him through this. Whatever it takes."

As they gathered their things to head to the hospital, the images from Percy's matches continued to play in their minds—the blood, the broken glass, the fire. They had always known Percy to be ambitious, driven, but this was something different. He had pushed himself to the absolute limit, and now they were afraid they might lose him.

The ride to the hospital was filled with tension, each of them lost in their thoughts. When they finally arrived, the sight of Percy lying in the hospital bed, pale and battered, hit them harder than anything they had seen on the screen. The strong, ambitious brother they had once known was now fighting for his life, and they could only hope it wasn't too late to save him.