Several years after their adventure in Narnia, Susan gets a very unwelcome wakeup call. Songfic.
For the song featured in this story, search the title of this story in Youtube and look for a version done by the Everly Brothers. I don't recommend the Simon and Garfunkel cover.
"Susan!" A voice hissed in the darkness, intruding into a very good dream. "Susan, wake up!"
Wake up, little Susie, wake up
Wake up, little Susie, wake up
Susan squinted and blinked her eyes a few times, grimacing and looking around. Where was she? And how had she managed to fall asleep sitting up? She blinked again and looked around, realizing that she was in a car.
Phil's car.
With Phil waking her up.
"Oh, damn," Susan thought to herself. "What time is it?" she asked aloud, her eyes trying to adjust to the very dim light. "Twelve? Maybe Mum's not home yet and I can get away with it," she said.
"It's four in the morning," Phil said, pointing to the little luminescent numerals on the dashboard. Susan covered her face with her hand and tried not to smudge her makeup. That would make things even worse.
We've both been sound asleep, wake up, little Susie, and weep
The movie's over, it's four o'clock, and we're in trouble deep
Wake up little Susie
Wake up little Susie,
"What're we going to tell your mother?" Phil asked. "She'll think it's awfully odd us getting home at four."
Well, whatta we gonna tell your mama
Whatta we gonna tell your pa
Whatta we gonna tell our friends when they say "ooh-la-la"
"We'll tell her the truth," Susan said staunchly, shrugging her coat back on.
I told your mama that you'd be in by ten
Well Susie baby looks like we goofed again
Wake up little Susie
Wake up little Susie-- we gotta go home
"Are you sure that's wise?" Phil asked, looking at his girlfriend.
"What's unwise about it? We left the movie, we went for a drive, we parked the car, we fell asleep. That's all there is to tell," Susan said, very businesslike, rummaging through her purse for the mirror to check and see that none of her makeup was smudged. Didn't want to give Mother the wrong impression. Or Peter, for that matter. He'd probably ask her a lot of silly questions in the morning. What business was it of his what she did on her nights out? It wasn't anything dangerous, just a bit of fun.
"Don't worry about it, Phil," Susan said smoothly, trying to reassure him.
The movie wasn't so hot, it didn't have much of a plot
We fell asleep, our goose is cooked, our reputation is shot
Wake up little Susie
Wake up little Susie, we gotta go home.
Yes, that was all there was to it. Just a bit of fun. Nothing that would threaten her reputation at all. Phil started the car and began the drive back into Finchley from the farming outskirts, the little car toddling back to where the street lamps began again. She looked at Phil as they drove under the little circles of light, and she fished around in her purse for a handkerchief, rubbing at a lipstick stain on his collar. Didn't want anyone to see that.
Whatta we gonna tell your mama
Whatta we gonna tell your pa
Whatta we gonna tell our friends when they say "ooh-la-la"
They'd probably be home from the train station now, all of them, home and in bed, sleeping like the little angels they all tried to be. And in the morning they'd ask where she'd been and ask what she and Phil had been doing in that suspicious tone. It was so irritating, sometimes- she couldn't very well be like all of them!
"We're going to see Professor Kirke and Aunt Polly – are you sure you wouldn't like to come, Su?" Edmund had asked her that morning, sticking his head inside the door.
"No," she said dismissively, too preoccupied with her hair preparations to look at him. "I've got a date with Phil. We're going to the movies. Tell me about it when I get home." Edmund shut the door without an answer.
"You won't be home till after we're in bed," she heard Edmund grumble in the hall.
"Is she coming?" Lucy asked. Susan put down her curler to listen.
"She's got a date with Phil," Edmund said disgustedly. "Honestly, you'd think she cares about him more than us now. Doesn't even have time to meet Mom and Dad's train, has to go out with Phil and be all grown up."
"Edmund, don't talk that way," Lucy said quietly. "She's not herself. We'll have to forgive her."
Not herself? She was more like herself then she'd been in a long time. Little twit, she had thought to her empty room. They'll understand, when they're older. But Peter's older, and he doesn't understand, either. At university already and still doesn't understand, more fool him. The girls'd go wild for him, if he'd give them the time. Makes no difference to me if they can't see what a good time is. I've got to have time to be grown-up. I can't sit around playing little kid games any more. It's no fun.
There was a police car waiting at her house, sleepily sitting across the street with the copper inside, snoozing soundly. Phil's car backfired as they rounded the corner, and the policeman awoke, startled.
"Wonder what he's doing here," Susan asked.
She fumbled for the keys as Phil parked next to the front walk, finding them as he opened the door. They went up to the front door together, and Phil kissed her, none too quickly.
"Come on, before Mum finds out I'm not home," Susan said, trying for the lock on the front door.
"Susan Pevensie?" the policeman asked. Susan and Phil turned quickly, both looking as though they'd been caught in a compromising position in a broom closet (which, to be fair, had happened before.)
"That's me," Susan said cautiously. "What do you want?"
"You are the sibling of a Peter, Edmund and Lucy Pevensie, and the daughter of a John and Helen Pevensie?" the copper asked. The grayish light of early morning was making it hard to see, and Susan had to squint to see his outline.
"What's this about?" Susan asked, still very confused. What on earth could he want with her at four in the morning?
"Well, it's your parents. There's been an accident, and they're still in hospital, in grave condition. We wanted to alert the family, but it seems your siblings were also on the train, along with a Professor Digory Kirke and a Miss Polly Plummer…" the policeman droned on, very serious, but Susan already understood what he meant.
She no longer had a family.
For the first time all morning, she was really awake now, her heart pumping and her skin prickling and her eyes welling up with tears. It was a wake-up call every human being dreads getting; She was alive, and they were all…dead.
Wake up, little Susie, wake up.
Wake up, little Susie, wake up.
We gotta go home.
Not up to my ususal standard, I know, but I, for some reason unexplainable by the usual laws of writing, somehow got the Everly Brothers "Wake up, Little Susie" stuck in my head and for the second time this week decided I needed to write another songfic.
More fool me. Now, this song was published in 1958, so I think it's a little unlikely that Susan would have heard it on the radio or anything like that. I just started singing it and realized it would be perfect for our 'little Susie.'