The Origin of Love, Part Three – Peter

"Is it always like this?" he heard her ask breathlessly, her heart hammering in her chest. The muffled rumpling of sheets as they leaned into one another was loud and grating on his ears. Their whispering filled the halls like the voices of ghosts. Lucy's laughter was a healing balm, while Caspian's was a knife in his heart.

That monster. That demon. That plague upon humanity was sharing his sister's bed. He was wrapped around her, like a ravenous python. And she loved every minute of it. She sought him out, even after he'd… after she'd let him…

Peter shook his head forcefully, his hands fisted tightly in the hair falling around his temples. He hadn't left the kitchen. He wouldn't, not when that thing was trapping his sister with his lies and tricks.

The look she'd given him as she passed cut through his heart like a red-hot poker. It was just so hurt and betrayed. He'd done that to her.

Oh, if only she knew why he hated Caspian. Then she would hate him too, and he'd be gone from their lives. Things would go back to normal.

Well, as normal as his life would ever be.

The two love birds giggled one more time, and then the light clicked off. She said goodnight, he said I love you, and then there was silence.

Peter wished they were making noise, because while Lucy was only soundless in sleep, Caspian could be quiet any time he wanted to.

The Origin of Love, Part Three – Caspian

"Goodnight," Lucy whispered as her eyelashes came to rest against her cheeks. She rolled onto her opposite side, presenting her back to him. Caspian's smile was as wide as the Nile. Somebody wanted some spooning.

"I love you," he replied as he pulled her against his chest, his cheek rested against her now dry hair. He felt her heartbeat flutter through her back and into his own chest. As it slowed and steadied, he knew she was asleep.

Immediately, his smile fell. Peter was in the kitchen. He had been for three hours, still and silent, like a talented, perfect predator. He was just waiting for something to set him off, like a patient snake waiting for a mouse to cross its path.

He who made kittens put snakes in the grass.

Caspian's eyes hardened, even as he pressed quiet kisses to Lucy's ear.

No one would touch his kitten.

Not even that goddamned hellhound she called a brother.

The Origin of Love, Part Three – Mary

Her husband's grip was warm and firm, even in sleep. He'd always been afraid of losing her, no matter how tightly she clung to him. George was her lighthouse, her foundation and in the winter, he hot water bottle. And while the warmth of his body behind her was reassuring, nothing could get her to relax at that moment.

How could she relax knowing that Peter had tried to attack Caspian – that he'd almost succeeded? In the short time she'd personally known Caspian, she'd never misjudged his potency. Even when he looked ill, which was often, there was a certain power in his muscles. His shoulders were always tight with barely contained tension. He was lean to be sure, but she knew he possessed unnatural strength and catlike grace. Caspian moved with fluid and measured precision, but every now and then, he would shift quicker than her eye could follow. He practically teleported any time Lucy called for him.

Maybe he'd been a sprinter in high school. She wouldn't put it past someone so lean and elegant.

Then there was Peter, her beloved baby boy, her poor rabbit, her oldest son. He'd never made a wrong decision in his entire life. He thought out everything, from prologue to epilogue. It was as if he was incapable of making rash decisions. They'd never had any trouble with Peter. It was unbelievable, really. Even as a baby, he seemed to be above crying and wailing. His first steps were dignified strides. She and George had gotten so lucky with their first child.

Well, he was George's first child. Mary would never know her first child, and she was glad for it. Not keeping it was in the best interest of everyone. If she had, she'd have never met George. Her four wonderful children wouldn't exist. There would be no warm arms to hold her at night. She realized that now. In giving up her first child, she'd cheated her way out of miserable fate.

How long she could keep cheating fate was a mystery.

'The Origin of Love', by Hedwig and the Angry Inch

When the earth was still flat,
And clouds made of fire,
And mountains stretched up to the sky,
Sometimes higher.

Folks roamed the earth,
Like big rolling kegs.
They had two sets of arms.
They had two sets of legs.

They had two faces peering
Out of one giant head,
So they could watch all around them
As they talked while they read.

And they never knew nothing of love.
It was before the origin of love.

The origin of love

And there were three sexes then,
One that looked like two men
Glued up back to back,
They're called the children of the sun.

And similar in shape and girth
Was the children of the earth.
They looked like two girls
Rolled up in one.

And the children of the moon
Was like a fork shoved on a spoon.
They was part sun, part earth
Part daughter, part son.

The origin of love

Now the gods grew quite scared
Of our strength and defiance
And Thor said, "I'm gonna kill them all with my hammer,
Like I killed the giants."

But Zeus said, "No,
You better let me use my lightening, like scissors,
Like I cut the legs off the whales,
Dinosaurs into lizards."

And Then he grabbed up some bolts,
He let out a laugh,
Said, "I'll split them right down the middle.
Gonna cut them right up in half."

And the storm clouds gathered above,
Into great balls of fire.

And then fire shot down
From the sky in bolts
Like shining blades
Of a knife.

And it ripped
Right through the flesh
Of the children of the sun
And the moon
And the earth.

And some Indian god
Sewed the wound up into a hole,
Pulled it round to our belly
To remind us of the price we pay.

And Osiris and the gods of the Nile
Gathered up a big storm
To blow a hurricane,
To scatter us away,
In a flood of wind and rain,
And a sea of tidal waves,
To wash us all away.

And if we don't behave,
They'll cut us down again,
And we'll be hopping round on one foot,
Looking through one eye.

The last time I saw you
We'd just split in two.
You was looking at me.
I was looking at you.

You had a way so familiar,
I could not recognize,
'Cause you had blood on your face;
I had blood in my eyes.

But I could swear by your expression
That the pain down in your soul
Was the same as the one down in mine.

That's the pain,
That cuts a straight line
Down through the heart;
We call it love.

We wrapped our arms around each other,
Tried to shove ourselves back together.
We was making love,
Making love.

It was a cold dark evening,
Such a long time ago,
When by the mighty hand of Jove.

It was the sad story,
How we became
Lonely two-legged creatures.

The story,
The origin of love.
That's the origin of love.

The origin of love.