Bill shot Charlie a withering look. If he was honest, this was the most expression or emotion he'd shown in any situation where other people had been. "No. No, Charlie. It wasn't about me. It was about you. It was about how you couldn't handle what was happening. How you needed to get away from everything. Well, guess what, Charlie? Not all of us can get away. Fred and I? We are going to go everywhere feeling that. We can't run away and pretend everything's okay. We can't actually wake up and realize everything's gone away. We can't go to Mexico and play pretend. I hope you enjoyed yourself."
He was frustrated, frustrated about a lot of things that Charlie had nothing to do with...but once he was already started, it was hard to stop. "Every day I wake up, Charlie? Fleur is dead." He tried to ignore the way his voice cracked. "She's not fucking coming back and I can't do SHIT for myself. I am barely able to write, I can't do ANY magic, I can't stand myself up or dress myself unless I wear sweatpants until I'm done. Kingsley is trying to act like I need to get better for his sake and then he's trying to turn my daughter into a miniature version of him. I NEEDED YOU!" By this time he was crying and there was no stopping it. "I FUCKING NEEDED YOU...AND YOU WENT TO MEXICO!"
He let out a hollow laugh after a moment. "But no. It wasn't about me, Charlie. No. It was about you."