WARNING: Possible tissue alert.

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this marvelous universe; it all belongs to C. S. Lewis and Walden Media.

Reviewers: Well…::rubs head sheepishly:: it's been a while. A very long while—getting a job sort of relegated my fan fiction writing to breaks and weekends (and even then, not much time is available). I do love my job, so I'm not complaining ::grins::. I also sort of became obsessed with How to Train Your Dragon (still am), but with VoDT released I'm definitely in the mood for some brotherfic, even though Lucy's the narrator for this one ::grins again::. I am also planning to completely revise Nighttime Demons after I finish it, and then continue a few of my other Narnia fics when I get the chance—so keep an eye out! All 457 of my reviewers, thank you!

Rating: T

Summary: When Colin Pevensie returns from war, things are not as he left them, particularly not between his two sons...(Brotherfic) (Book and Moviebased) (NO Slash)

"Speech"

/Personal Thoughts/

Nighttime Demons

By Sentimental Star

Chapter Eighteen: Not-Children

(Early Morning, Clacton-on-Sea, Lucy's P.O.V.)

Rain wakes me, not sun: rain splattering against the windows and shutters rattling in the wind.

I groan, rolling over to bury my face in my pillow.

In Narnia, I always woke with the sun. I hated sleeping in—too much to do and find and explore! My room faced East, so I was always the first one up. Peter had never been a morning person, and neither was Ed, for that matter. Susan always woke with me so I wouldn't eat breakfast alone (but I never really was alone; there was always a Finch, a Fox, or a Rabbit happy to join me with a cup of tea).

Here…it is reversed. Ed wakes with me and Susan sleeps in—usually because she is out late at parties. There are no Finches or Foxes or Rabbits here that can talk; and in the absence of Peter when he is off at University, Edmund is reluctant to sleep in longer than he needs to.

I do not entirely understand it, but I suspect he often gets lonely. Peter has been his best friend for years. I know he loves Susan and I, but Peter…Peter is special. I can freely admit to being jealous—Susan and I used to be like that, too. We aren't anymore.

I had hope. I really did. Four days ago she really seemed like she was coming back—to us, to Narnia, to Aslan. Maybe I was too cautious. Maybe I should have let Edmund and Peter talk about Narnia with her, like they wanted to. But I did not want to see the smile leave her face.

I am always too cautious when it comes to Susan—I do not know her like I used to, and it hurts. Especially when I see how close Peter and Edmund are still.

I shake my head, rolling over onto my back to stare up at the gray light dappling the ceiling.

Even though Susan brought me up here at half-past eleven last night, neither of us got much sleep. She stared at the wall for two hours straight and I spent all that time trying to get her to tell me what was wrong.

It didn't work.

Eventually, she went to sleep. I didn't—ever only dozing: too many thoughts going through my head, too much to worry about—and it wasn't just Susan.

My brothers must have had at least as rough a night as we did. Probably rougher, knowing the two of them. Not only did Daddy hear out the full story of Beruna (albeit, edited to prevent Mum from panicking), but there were Peter's sleepless nights to worry about on top of that.

Edmund would not have let them continue even an hour longer, and his methods of dealing with a sleepless Peter…weren't exactly healthy for either of them.

Ed must have made himself sick with worry.

Rolling over onto my stomach, I push myself up and sit, sliding my feet into my slippers. A glance across the space between our two beds reveals that Susan is still soundly asleep. Once upon a time she would have wanted me to wake her—after a particularly bad night, neither of us liked leaving our brothers alone for very long. There was too much potential for something serious to have happened. But this Susan…I am not sure such a worry has even crossed her mind.

"Susan." I lean forward to lightly shake her shoulder. "Su..."

"Wha-wha…" Yawn and slow blink, "Lucy?" Another yawn, and eyes halfway open, "Lucy, darling…what," she yawns again, "what is it?"

I bite my lip, worrying it. She hardly seems aware that I am even awake. "Su…I'm worried about Ed and Peter. Don't you suppose we ought to check on them? You know how they are. In Narnia they-"

Susan yawns again and rolls over, shutting her eyes and pulling the blankets over her head. "Oh, that's n-nice…nice that you still remember (yawn)…remember those games…" She closes her eyes completely and trails off, falling asleep.

…

I can't say anything, just stare at her back as it gently rises and falls.

Games? She thinks of Narnia as a game? But…

I shake my head vigorously, blinking back sudden tears and sudden heat.

/She's more than half-asleep. She doesn't really mean that. She can't…!/

I don't try to wake her up again.

IOIOIOIOIOI

Dressing in my robe and going out into the hall, I find Daddy sleeping outside, in front of the boys' room. He looks very uncomfortable, scrunched up in the corner like that, with his arms wrapped tightly around his body to ward off the chill.

He also looks terribly young.

I know it's silly of me to think that—he can't be much older than I am. Really am, I mean. He and Mummy got married very young.

I reach out and gently shake his shoulder. "Daddy, why are you sleeping out here?" I shake it again, a little harder, "Daddy…?"

His eyes snap open and he starts, jerking forward.

I've woken Peter and Edmund out of a dead sleep enough times to know that I should steer well clear of men who have been on a battlefield, especially when they just wake. It proves fortuitous when he very nearly grabs me in a sleeper hold.

When he realizes what he has almost done, Daddy stares at me, horrified.

I smile at him. "Daddy, what are you doing out here? Isn't Mummy going to start looking for you?"

He blushes, and though he tries to hide it, I know he is completely thrown by how calmly I've spoken to him. "N-Nothing, darling. Guarding against nightmares."

I intently study him: his blue eyes (just like Peter's) are tired, the circles under them dark. He looks like he's gotten even less sleep than I have. "Yours…or theirs?"

Daddy gapes at me.

My smile dims slightly, "I understand, Daddy."

And I really do. Five years after he has gone to war (a war where you can't even look into your opponent's eyes as you kill them and acknowledge what you've taken), he returns to us, only to find not-children in the place where his children once were. Not-children who have grown so old and grown so old together that they don't really need him anymore.

I don't know what I can say…or do…to make him think otherwise.

Daddy sighs and shifts restlessly where he sits. "I don't. But I'm beginning to believe that will be a constant state of being when I'm around the four of you." He shakes his head, "What are you doing up, sweetheart? We were all up late and it's not even half-past five, yet."

He's floundering. He doesn't know what to say. It's all too clear: the way his eyes dart, the way his hands can't keep still…

/Oh, Daddy…I'm so sorry…/

I shrug, and try to keep smiling. "I'm worried. Peter's not been sleeping well…and his moods usually affect Edmund's. I wanted to check on them."

Daddy sighs again, heavily, "Ed forced Peter into bed not long ago. I doubt they'll be up before noon."

I wince. /Lion's Teeth, Roar, and Mane, I bet that wasn't pleasant…for any of them./

I glance at Daddy. He looks mildly disturbed. I smile sadly.

Any father would be upset, seeing their sons interact on such a level and in such a way. Fortunately, Daddy isn't like other fathers. Even if he doesn't understand—and may never—at least he loves us enough to accept us for who we are, as strange a brood as this family has turned out to be.

Aslan has truly blessed us ten times over.

"I know it seems impossible, Daddy," I squeeze his arm, "but they've been taking care of each other for over twenty years. We all have, really. Ed knows what he's doing. Trust me."

Daddy sighs and covers my hand, patting it gently, before standing up, "I do, sweetheart."

I do.

IOIOIOIOIOI

"You are very good at that."

Daddy's voice breaks through the quiet of Peter's and Edmund's room and sound of their even breathing as they sleep. Finally. Both of them.

And in the same bed.

I sigh, straightening up after tucking a strand of Peter's blond hair behind his ear and kissing Edmund's cheek.

If their positions are anything to go by, I was right in my assumption that they had had a rough night. They are literally tangled up in each other, and do not seem to be in any hurry to move anytime soon.

I turn around to face my father. "I was the Healer, Daddy." When Edmund sighs in his sleep and turns to bury his face more comfortably against Peter's shoulder, I smile fondly. "I know which medicines they need and how best to heal them. I know how they react when they can't sense each other," my smile falls, "and I have sometimes had to stop one of them from coming into the healing wing because it is too dangerous for the other. Beruna wasn't the only battle, Daddy, nor was it only battles that I had to heal them from. Training accidents, sickness…we spent the majority of our lives in Narnia," I reach out to touch each of my brothers' faces, "of course we are going to be different."

Daddy stands in the threshold of the boys' room. When I look up at him, his shoulders slump and he leans heavily against the doorway, looking so very tired. "I know, darling. I wouldn't have expected you to be otherwise after that. It's just…hard. I remember them how they were…and then I see them how they are now." He shakes his head, "They are so starkly different—you all are so starkly different—I no longer know how to approach you."

I walk over to him and place my hand on his arm, trying to smile for his sake. "Treat us as you always have. We'll tell you what we need along the way."

There is a creak across the hallway. My parents' door swings open to reveal a half-asleep Mum.

She yawns, watching us with bleary eyes, "Colin? Lucy? Darlings, what are you doing up…and at this hour?"

Daddy glances over my shoulder into the boys' room, expression so forlorn that I have to quickly scrub my hand across my face to prevent my tears from falling.

I lightly jostle his arm. "They'll be fine, Daddy. They have each other."

He looks at me plaintively. "I don't understand."

It's such a child-like appeal. He would never had said it—or in such a way—if he had been more awake. Mum glances between us curiously, still more than half-asleep.

I smile sadly. "Not many do. I think the best way to describe it is that they complete each other. Well…actually…the four of us needed to keep that balance in Narnia, in order to break the Witch's spell and end the Hundred Year Winter. Aslan chose us four, and four…we need to remain, if we have any hope of fulfilling what He wishes us to here."

"Lucy…" Daddy's shoulders fall even further, "you are only children—you were only children. How could He even expect…shouldn't adults have taken care of it?"

My smile goes crooked. I know he doesn't want to hear this, but it is the best answer I can give, "You will understand when you meet Him. I promise."

Tbc.