I really loved the marionette metaphor; it brought to mind really vivid imagery.

He is deadened, ceasing to exist until morning. It’s no loss, he thinks; he was only half there to begin.

SO much there with so few words. *snuggles George*

Ugh. This whole thing is so angsty. You painted a really great picture about how they both deal with the loss of Fred; different, but equally destructive. I'm all sadface for them :(