I have read a lot of Susan finding her family stories, any thing that resembles those stories is purely accidental and full credit goes to those who came up with the idea first.
I do not own Narnia or it's characters.
She remembers the excitement radiating from her siblings in the living room, while she sat in the kitchen stirring her coffee, a hangover dull in her head. She hears Peter searching for his shoes, while Edmund stood tapping his foot impatiently and coughing, a bit of his cold still clinging to him.
"Are you sure you're up for this, Ed?" Peter's concerned voice comes from the living room.
"I'm fine. I'm not missing this for a cough. Besides you and Lucy indulged yourselves plenty fussing over me," Edmund says exasperated.
Lucy bounds down the stairs shouting, "Peter, are you looking for shoes again? They are at the end of the hallway up here."
She hears Peter give her thanks and run up the stairs to retrieve his shoes as Lucy turns to Edmund.
"Did you eat?"
"Yep."
"You're lying, go eat Eddie. You can't get sick again."
Edmund's footsteps and grumbling about all too perceptive little sisters come closer to the kitchen.
When Edmund enters the kitchen and sees her, he freezes, the excitement in him deflating.
"Good Morning, Su."
"Morning," she says stiffly, squirming under his dark gaze and feeling guilty for what she said to him last week, but she quickly pushes that from her mind.
"Feeling better?" She asks him as he spreads jam on the toast he just made.
He leans against the counter and eats an entire piece of toast before answering, "Mostly."
They lapse into silence, that once never existed but was filled with discussion, laughter, and teasing. He cleans up his breakfast before turning to her again.
"You should come with us, Su," he says quietly and his eyes soft.
"No, no I can't do that Edmund. Please don't ask that of me," she says just as quietly but her eyes are flashing angrily.
He sighs. "I love you," he tells her. He leaves the room before she can pull herself together to say anything back.
Thirty minutes later she watches them pile into Peter's rickety car. Edmund is forever teasing Peter about his car, dubbing it The Old Man. The car pulls away with Peter with his shoes, Edmund with food in his stomach, and Lucy with her smile.
She gets the calls two hours later. With shaking hands she dials a friend's number, and they drive her to the scene with empty reassurances all the way.
When they arrive she doesn't hear her other friend's words, everything seems in slow motion as she steps out of the car and slams the door shut.
Everything is in chaos, and she steps over piece of rubble after piece of rubble and body after body, and pushes through relatives and friends. She screams for her brothers and sister.
She pushes, and pushes until she spots the all too familiar pairing of black and gold hair five feet away. Her breath catches in her throat as she runs towards them, tears streaming down her face.
When she reaches them, her heart stops for a moment when she sees them, and their condition, knowing they were gone, there was no way they could possibly be alive.
Edmund lying with his head on Peter's chest and his hand fisted in his shirt. Lucy curled against Peter's side. Peter flat on his back, with his arms wrapped around both of them, his face buried in Edmund's forever messy hair.
Their positions identical to the night they fell asleep in the same bed, the night she had called Edmund a traitor and he'd looked at her like she'd punched him in the gut. He had left the house soon after that, a few hours went by and he still hadn't come home so Peter went looking for him. Sometime after dinner Peter returned with wet, cold, and ill Edmund.
Tears streamed down her face as she desperately wished the image burning in her eyes before her was her beloved brothers and sister falling asleep together in Peter's bed, comforting each other. She desperately wished the image was not marred by a piece of metal pierced through Edmund and Peter's sides, protecting each other right until the end. She desperately wished the image was not marred by the bloody gashes on Lucy's face and chest, and the scrapes on her hands in knees from crawling to her older brothers.
She falls to her knees and crawls over to Edmund, placing his head in her lap, stroking his hair, repeating, "sorry, sorry, sorry". She wishes she had told him she loved him too earlier that morning. She kisses Peter on the forehead, and caresses his cheek. She holds Lucy's hand and smoothes her dress. She doesn't know how long she sits there.
All she remembers is her friend's voice coming softly from above her, "Susan". All she remembers is being lifted to her feet, guided to the car, and driven home.