I was in the middle of working on another fanfiction and this suddenly came to me and I simply had to write it. The image was so poignant, so vivid, it had to be done. It's just a oneshot. Just before LWW, movie ages.

Peter ran down the steps practically pushing Edmund in front of him. All morning Ed was simply a beast. Peter had to wake him four times, all the time trying to get dressed himself. When Ed had finally gotten up out of bed and gotten dressed, both of them were so late Peter half expected his parents and the girls to have gone already. It was Sunday and the family was headed to church. They always walked the couple blocks to the huge Cathedral.

Thankfully, the two of them met his mother and the girls at the front door just as they were leaving. His mother had her lace gloves on and a frilly dress, one of her last nice dresses, only a patch or two in places. Lucy and Susan were also in pretty lacy dresses. All three had on long jackets. Lucy's sleeves were much too short and Susan's barely fit her. His mothers had just been newly patched, they were making do. Peter had just gotten his coat on when he noticed Edmund struggling with his own. It just didn't fit. It was still too cold out for him to go without a jacket, seeing as how he was just wearing a dress shirt and worn sweater.

Peter reached out for him just as he heard the jacket tear; Edmund was left holding a jacket with a very long rip down the back seam. His mother sighed wearily, knowing she couldn't get another one. She had just bought a new skirt that she desperately needed for work and was nearly out of coupons. It would take two months at least to save up enough coupons for a new coat. Before she could bother with any of that, Peter took off his own jacket and gave it to Edmund, hanging his ripped one up. He walked straight past his mother to the closet beneath the steps and took out his father's old great coat. It was obviously too long for him and was patched and thin, but it would keep him warm.

"There, all fixed." He said pulling it on, ready to leave for church.

His mother smiled appreciatively as she reached for her husband's arm. It was such a beautiful sight when her son gave so generously to his younger brother. She knew that he tried as hard as he could to take care of them, to keep them all safe.

"I can fix Edmund's old one and Lucy can use it." Susan added.

Tears welded up slightly in her eyes. Susan did know how hard her mother worked and how little time she had. It was also a good idea; they could give Lucy's jacket to the neighbors. Their little girl was smaller than Lucy and could get some use out of it.

She smiled even wider at the thought, still reaching for her husband's arm, to share the moment with him. She knew that he must be looking at both of their children as proudly as she had. Her two eldest children had become very responsible young adults in the last few weeks. She didn't have to look at her husband to see the pride in his eyes, maybe even a few tears. Sadly all she found was air. She reached again thinking she had just not reached far enough. When her hand met nothing but air she turned. Her husband wasn't there. He wasn't there to see their children's selflessness. He wasn't there to see them grow up. He wasn't there to walk her to church. He wasn't there… He wasn't there…HE WASN'T THERE.

Bewildered she looked around her, trying to find him. Where had he gone? To War. Why wasn't her ready for church? He was in Uniform. Why wasn't he there? His country needed him. What about her? He fought for her. What about the Children? He fought to keep them safe. But she needed him. England needed him more.

Peter watched as his mother's face grew more and more scared. She seemed hopelessly lost. She's looking for dad. Their father had left just four days ago. This was the first Sunday he wasn't here. The first Sunday he wouldn't walk his wife to church followed by his children. The first time it really mattered that he was gone. Peter bit his lip, unsure. He knew what he had to do, but he wasn't sure he could. Lucy was getting scared. Susan kept looking at him, pleading with her eyes- Do something. Finally, he moved. He reached out his arm offering it to her.

His mother looked at it, blinking several times. Was it her husband? It was his jacket. She looked into the man's face. Not a man, her son, her fifteen-year-old son, still a child. She reached a hand to her head. Peter grabbed her left hand, wrapping it around his arm, her fingers in the crook of his arm. Carefully he led her out of the door yelling back over his shoulder, "Come on. We're going." Susan grabbed Lucy's hand, offering what little comfort she could as Edmund followed, sullen as usual.

I know an abrupt end, but I had to write it. It just really stuck out to me, this one moment. It tried to get all the POV that were whirling through my head straight and understandable. I know it kinda switches, but I just wrote what I saw and felt.

Please review, even if is just one word. I would really like to know what you think about this. Personally, it is haunting me.