This is just a quick one-shot I thought of today while attempting to work on my Merlin stories. It is set in directly after The Last Battle so if you have not read that book, don't read this story for it will have a major spoiler. I know nothing of modern hospitals, let alone British hospitals in the mid 1900s, so if the scene here is not correct, I appologize. Also, I'm not sure if (SPOILER) Lucy would still be alive after being in a train wreck, but for my purposes she is. I know she would be a lot more beat up, but I wanted to keep the rating down for once so I did not go into detail on her injuries.

I want to give a HUGE "Thank you!" to NarniaGirl97 and croclover95 for editing this for me and giving me pointers on different things. Thank you two soooo much! :)

Disclaimer: The world and characters of Narnia belong to C.S. Lewis and not myself...no matter how much I wish they did.

By Another Name

The walls were a bright, sickly white. The walls seemed to close in around her, pressing in, suffacting her. Her heart seemed to tighten in her chest as her heels clicked on the floor, the only sound in the silent hallway. Doors passed by, charts with names scribbled almost unlegibly hung from simple rings. A man sat in a chair outside of one of these doors and he gave her a sad, curious glance as she walked by.

But she didn't see him. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, her eyes prickling and blurred with unshed tears. The hall seemed to stretch for miles as she walked, the clicking of her heels piercing her ears like a rifle shot. After what seemed like hours, she reached her destination.

The door looked like all the others: plain white with a single clipboard holding a chart hanging from it. She reached to open the door, but hesitated, her eyes drawn to the chart. A single tear slipped from her eye as she read the barely legible words.

Lucy Pevensie.
Condition: Critical.
Victim of train wreck.
Not expected to make it through the night.

There were more words, but she couldn't read anymore. Her eyes closed, forcibly keeping her tears at bay. With a deep breath, she reached out and pushed the door open. She walked in, closing the door as quiet as she could. For a moment she couldn't turn. She stood there, hands still on the closed door, head bowed. No sound came from the room save that of low, strained breathing. With a deep breath, she turned around.

A small figure lay on the hospital bed, thin white sheets pulled up to her chin. The girl's hair hung loose around her shoulders, dirt still clinging to it. Her eyes were closed, a peaceful expression on her young face. Above the bed hung a solitary picture of a lion and a lamb lying together in the straw, but Susan paid it no mind.

"Oh Lucy." Susan gasped, reaching up to stroke her baby sister's dirty cheek. "My dear, sweet, Lucy."

She stroked Lucy's cheek for a moment, feeling the cold skin against her hand. Lucy's chest barely moved as she breathed, a weak, raspy breath that shook Susan to the bone. She drew her hand back, falling into the chair by the bed. Her tears finally poured out, staining her cheeks as her makeup ran. She reached out and grasped her sister's hand, holding it tightly.

Sobs broke from her lips as she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the bed. Her whole body shook as she tightened her grip on her sister's hand.

"I'm so sorry, Lucy." She gasped quietly, her voice no more then a whisper. "Please don't leave me."

As the tears spilled from her eyes, Susan's mind went back to that morning. Had it really just been a matter of hours since she had last seen her family? Just hours since her life had come crashing down around her? A sob shook her body as she remembered the last words she had said to her brothers and sister.

"Won't you come to, Susan?" Lucy asked, her eyes pleading.

Susan looked at her sister, a small smile coming to her face. She patted Lucy on the cheek and turned back to put an earring in.

"Maybe next time, Lucy." she said, studying her image in the mirror. "Do you think this earring matches or would another be better?"

"You look beatiful, Susan." Lucy replied and Susan almost missed the sad droop of her shoulders. "As always."

Susan turned and smiled down at her baby sister. "Thank you, Lucy." She paused and studied her sister closely. "You are growing into a lovely young woman yourself. Won't you stay home and let me do your hair and makeup today, Lucy?"

Lucy sighed and gave her a smile, but Susan could see the sadness hidden in her eyes.

"Maybe some other time, Susan. I have to go today."

She turned to go and a feeling of guilt hit Susan, though she did not know what she had to feel guilty about.

"Lucy!" She called, a smile on her face. Lucy turned, hope in her eyes. "Where are you going today?"

"To visit Professor Kirk and Eustace." Lucy answered, the hope remaining. "Oh won't you come, Susan? It would be just like old times, just like in Narnia!"

The smile fell from her face at the last word. Susan's face grew cold as she stood, her shoulder's back and an annoyed look in her eyes.

"When are you going to put that child game behind you, Lucy?" She asked, placing her hand on her sister's shoulder. "You are almost a woman now. It is time to grow up."

"It wasn't a game though, Susan!" Lucy said desperatly, grabbing her sister's hand between her own. "They were the best years of our lives! How could you think all our battles, all our victories, and times of peace were a game? How could you think Aslan was a game?"

Susan was shocked at the fierceness in her little sister's voice. Never before had Lucy ever lost her temper with her, never had raised her voice before. Susan wasn't sure what to say and simply stared down at Lucy, who still held her hand in her own.

"She's right, Susan." Peter said from the doorway.

Susan's eyes narrowed.

"Aren't you a little old for silly games, Peter?" she asked coldly, drawing her hand away from Lucy.

"It's not a game, Su!" Edmund exclaimed, stepping forward from the door. "And you know that!"

"Please, Susan," Peter begged, stepping forward as well. "Just come with us today. We won't say anything about Narnia again."

Susan held her head high, folding her arms across her chest. She looked at her three siblings before her, wondering why they just couldn't grow up. Why was she the only logical one still in the family? The only adult?

"I have other things to do." she said coldly, not bothering to hide the venom in her voice. "When you grow up and put childish games behind you then I will come. But not before."

With that, she turned back to studying her jewlery. In her mirror she could see the three still standing there, shoulder's drooping hopelessly. After a few moments of staring at her back, they turned and left. Lucy was last, but as she went to close the door, she turned back and met Susan's eyes through the mirror.

"You may have forgotten Him, Susan." Her voice was strong and wise for one so young. "But Aslan hasn't forgotten you. Don't forget that."

With that, her sister turned and closed the door behind her, leaving Susan alone with her jewlery.

Susan sat up, wiping the tears from her eyes. How could she have been so cold to her siblings? Though she tried to hold them back, more tears spilled from her eyes as she realized her last words to her brothers had been ones of coldness, of anger. And now she would never get to take them back.

"Why did you have to go?" She whispered, not sure who she was talking to. "Why couldn't you have just grown up and stayed with me?"

Though she said the same words as that morning, her heart wasn't in them. How could she wish for her brothers to grow up when they would never grow again? How could they when they were dead? A cry escaped her lips as the knowledge settled in: Her mother and father, Peter and Edmund, they were all dead. Killed in that terrible train accident. And Lucy lay before her, dying.

"Please, Lu," she cried, grasping her sister's hand once more. "I can't do this without you. Please don't leave me. Please!"

She felt Lucy's hand move and, for a moment, it seemed as if she was squeezing her hand. Susan stood up, holding Lucy's hand tightly, her heart in her throat as she waited for more signs from Lucy.

Her sister's breath seemed to be coming harder and harder, as if Lucy was grasping for breath. Her eyes fluttered, as if about to open, but then they stilled and remained closed. Lucy's lips moved soundlessly and, with her breath caught in her throat, Susan leaned forward. For a moment, Lucy made no sound, but finally one word managed to escape.

"Aslan!"

Susan stiffened, straightening up and looking down at her sister. Lucy looked completly at peace, her face relaxed with a small smile that hadn't been there moments before now visible. With a start, Susan realized her sister was completly still, no sound or movement at all.

"Lu?" She cried. Then louder, "Lucy?" She tightened her grip on her hand, pleading for a movement, a sound. "Lucy! Lucy!"

No movement. No sound. Lucy remained completly still, completly at rest. Susan cried out and fell across her sister's body, her tears pouring from her once more. She cradled her sister to her, holding her tightly as she cried, "Lucy, Lucy," over and over again.

She didn't know how long she sat there, holding her sister and crying. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. Susan no longer cared. All she knew was that her sister-sweet, kind, beautiful, valiant Lucy-was dead. She had no one. She was alone, and her last words had been hateful and angry. And she couldn't even apolgize.

As she cradled her sister and cried, Susan could only think of one word. The last word Lucy ever said. The last thought on her sister's mind. The last thing that Lucy had thought of before passing on. Aslan.

The Stone Table broke in two with a loud rumble. Susan and Lucy spun around, gasping as they saw the piece of solid rock broken in two by an invisible force. The body of the Great Lion was nowhere to be seen.

"Susan!" Lucy cried, turning to look at the broken table.

The two stood slowly, making their way back toward the Table, eyes wide in shock.

"Where's Aslan?" Lucy asked worridly.

"What have they done?" Susan asked, her voice a mixture of fear and awe.

The light seemed to grow as the two lifted their heads above the Table. The morning light was blinding, but through the light they saw a figure moving towards them. Their eyes widened and smiles spread across their faces as the lion moved forward, head thrown high, the conquereror of Death.

"Aslan!"

"Ma'am?" The soft voice startled Susan from her-was it a dream? Or a memory?

She turned, still cradling Lucy's body, to see who was talking to her. A young man, just a few years older then herself, stood at the entrance to the door. He wore a nice suit, though a tattered one, with a book in his hand. He had a kindly face and Susan turned back toward her sister, willing her tears to stop.

"A relative?" the man asked softly.

"M...my sister." Susan stuttered, wiping her tears.

"I am sorry, Miss Pevensie." The man said, taking a step forward. "I don't wish to interrupt your mourning, but I am the hospital chaplain. Is their anything I could do for you?"

Susan shook her, not trusting her voice. The chaplain walked forward until he was at the end of the bed. He looked down at Lucy, sadness in his eyes, and for a moment Susan was angry. What right did this man have to interrupt her? Couldn't he see that she was mourning? She looked up, prepared to tell the man to get away, but something stopped her. She looked into his face and saw a lone tear fall.

"Wo...would it be all right if I prayed?" The chaplain asked, clearing his voice.

Susan looked down at Lucy, not answering. She wanted nothing to do with the chaplain. What could he do for poor Lucy? In her mind she could see Lucy scolding her, telling her to let the man do as he pleased. She nodded. The chaplain closed his eyes and bowed his head, his book tight against his chest.

"Father," he began quietly. "We cannot understand Your ways. You know all and nothing happens without a reason. Though we cannot see the reason behind the loss of this young girl and her family, we trust in Your will and Your ways. We know Your hand is over Lucy and her brothers as they walk with You today. Father, I ask that You lay Your hand over their sister. She is lost right now, Father, and only You can bring her the peace and comfort she needs in this troubling time. Bring her close to you, Lord, and help her through this troubling time. It is in your Son's name I pray. Amen."

Silent tears fell from her eyes as the chaplain finished his prayer. Her eyes closed as she let his words wash over her. She had never been one for religion. She had atteneded church before, but it had never interested her. Her eyes opened as the prayer finished. She looked down into Lucy's face, wondering how she could look so peaceful and grown up when she was just a little girl.

"Thank you." She whispered, glancing over at the chaplain. "I'm sure she would have appreciated it."

"Did she know Jesus?" the chaplain asked.

Susan didn't answer. Her eyes seemed to be drawn up to the picture above the bed. A golden light seemed to be spreading around the lion and the lamb. It was then that she realized how wrong she had been. Memories filled her mind and part of her sorrow seemed to lift as she looked up and looked into the Lion's face.

"In your world, I have another name." The words from so long ago echoed in her mind. "You must learn to know me by it. That was the very reason you were brought to Narnia. That by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."

Susan looked away from the Lion and met the chaplain's eyes. A small smile crossed her face as one solitary tear slipped from her eye, this one of joy instead of sorrow. It all made sense now, everything; His sacrifice, his resurrection, and his rise from the dead. The knowledge kept so long in her head now she now accepted in her heart. She looked once more into Lucy's peacful smiling face and the smile on her face grew as she raised her head and met the chaplain's eyes.

"Yes," she answered calmly. "Yes she did."