Disclaimer: There is nothing here that I own.

Note: This is an experimental piece, just a moment in time. I don't say where he's coming from or going to, necessarily, or why he has left in the first place. That is up to you and your imagination, dear readers.

"Speech"

/Thoughts/

The Anchor

By Serenity Song

The old house looks just the same as it did when he first left it, and as the taxicab tolls up the driveway, he presses his face close to the glass to look up at it, a fond, reminiscent smile lighting his features.

It isn't the house, really, with its climbing ivy and faded cranberry shutters, that brings the tears perilously close to falling. No, it is, rather, who he knows lives within those gray-sided walls that does it.

The taxicab stops at the top of the driveway. "Well, there you go, me lad," the elderly driver says with a sigh.

A mischievous smile flits across the young man's lips ad he leans over the front chair to whisper something in the taxicab driver's ear.

The taxicab driver, who has come to quite like this odd, youthful passenger of his, smiles a toothless grin and nods. The taxi's horn bugles loudly and clearly through the balmy mid-May morning air as its passenger swings open his door.

One of the top windows is unlatched and likewise swings open, as a dark head leans out into the bright sunlight, glancing around for the source of the sound.

Dark brown eyes fall on the taxicab in the driveway, just as its passenger emerges and stands, before leaning back in and murmuring something to the driver with a smile.

The horn stops its bugling, the passenger hands over the fare, and then re-emerges, carrying several bags and shutting the door. Sunlight glints off sandy hair.

Feeling eyes on his back, the young man turns and, slinging one of the packs over his shoulder, raises his head to gaze up at the open window. The other figure, a teenager maybe two or three years younger than himself, has leaned his folded arms on the window sill and is slowly shaking his head at him, grinning brightly with dancing dark eyes.

The older releases a happy sigh and feels himself completely relax as a warm, echoing smile touches his lips. Eyes blue as the sky, over-bright with unshed tears, soften at this very much missed sight.

For they are brothers, these two, one traveled and world-weary, the other calm and steady.

And the elderly taxicab driver, who has grown to rather like this strange passenger of his, marvels at the wealth of emotion that passes between the two, standing as they are.

The moment breaks. With a brilliant grin, the young man in the window ducks back into the house.

Both passenger and driver can hear his eager footsteps as he cries out happily, "Lucy, Susan, Peter's back! Mother! Mother, where are you? Peter's back!"

Then the front door is flung open, and the old cabby can only watch as three laughing swirls of color burst through it and outside. The first is a young girl of about thirteen, who tackles the young man he has driven here, and who is immediately caught up and twirled around. The next is a young woman of about seventeen who interrupts their twirling, though neither seems to mind—for she is merely spun into their joyous, impromptu dance. And the last is the youth from the window, no more than fifteen, who skids to a halt mere inches from them, eyes sparkling wildly.

For some reason, the taxicab driver finds he has teared up.

None of the siblings notice as he drives off.

Laughter and shouts ring throughout their front yard for a few minutes, as the four siblings reunite after months of being apart. It is enough to bring even the most stoic man to tears.

Once the happy ruckus quiets—somewhat—Peter raises twinkling eyes to the darker-haired teenaged boy in front of him. Releasing the two girls, he crosses his arms over his chest and lightly taps his foot. "Ed…" the effect is rather lost, however, as he is smiling with tear-bright eyes. "Get over here!" And he opens his arms.

Edmund, who has thus far been standing back to allow the girls and Peter their time, now gives a soft choke and promptly obliges.

With his arms full of younger brother, the older teenager tightly shuts his eyes and presses his lips to the dark head beneath his chin in heartfelt gratitude. Several stray tears finally escape to trickle down his cheeks.

Lucy and Susan are happy just to stand back and watch their brothers, for they have had their greeting, and they know—although they might have two very different reasons why—that Peter and Edmund share a special bond that not even they can fully understand. But that's all right, because they have a bond all their own.

For Peter, Edmund is his steady anchor, that catches him when he's adrift and steadies him when he lists.

Indeed, it is for that very reason he hugs him so closely now.

He lowers his head to rest against the younger boy's shoulder, and whispers so that only the fifteen-year-old can hear, "You're an angel, Ed."

The other male teenager smiles faintly. "Hardly, Peter." Ghosts of the past haunt his eyes.

But Peter shakes his head against Edmund's shoulder. "You stop right there," he refutes sternly, voice soft. "The entire reason I'm even here now is because of you. I love Lu and Su, yes, but it was your letter, Ed, your letter,that really helped me pull through." He finally lifts his head and drops a kiss on his younger brother's forehead, whispering, "Thank you."

The End

Note: Short and sweet, but I hope not too brusque. This is my first, so I hope you all approve!