A/N: Well two years later and I still actually like this story. Miracle that is. So I've gone back and done some editing, mostly just taking out silly mistakes. Mind you it still hasn't been Beta-read so any and all mistakes (including possible canon mix-ups) remain my own. What can I say? I don't like sharing. And people don't like sharing with me - Narnia still isn't mine. Probably a good thing, all things considered. I do hope you enjoy.
I examined the clipboard I held in my hand. The day was nearly done and we had one last patient to visit. With a glance at the clip-board in my hand, I checked the name and corresponding room number.
Susan Peterson, 405
She was new. This would be interesting. Leo and I hadn't had any new patients to visit for almost a month.
I had been working at this facility for a long enough time to know that it doesn't matter whether I watch where I am going; so I didn't bother to look up as I flipped to the back of the paper to look through the patient information. Leo, beside me as usual on his cat leash, plodded along quietly.
Patient ID: A08
Name: Susan Helen Peterson
Age: 80
Gender: Female
Primary Doctor: Dr. Timothy G. Neil
Diagnosis: Flu
Date of Hospitalization: 14/01/2008
As I dodged a food trolley passing by I let the paper flutter back to rest on the thin piece of plastic, and tucked the clipboard back into my bag. Sometimes I wished they'd give me more information and sometimes I wish they'd give me less. Honestly, one would assume if her name was Susan, she was going to be female. But some hospital procedures I would never get used to and I was readily resigned to that.
Reaching the end of the corridor I pressed the up button and impatiently waited for the elevator. I half-watched the digital counter, not really focusing as the numbers flashed down. Finally it 'pinged' and the doors opened. For once there was no one in there already.
"Sophie! Wait!"
Well I wasn't completely on my own. One of the desk clerks, and one of my friends, Nathan, came sprinting down the corridor. I held the open button and he dashed inside next to me. Releasing the button, I allowed my incredulous stare to settle upon him as the doors slid shut.
"Thanks," Nathan gasped.
"No problem. What's up? I barely ever see you roaming the grounds so far from your home sweet desk."
"Ha ha, very funny. Like you haven't used that one before. Anyways I had to come and find Jess. She made a mistake in her paper work, and I don't know what the correction is supposed to be."
I grinned at him, raising an eyebrow that left little room to argue, and he flushed. He knew that I knew that he could have just paged her but I didn't vocalize it. It was so obvious he was completely infatuated with the trainee nurse who worked on the 5th floor. But my colleague's love affairs were none of my business.
The doors pinged again and the supposedly pleasant( it was more creepy than anything else) female voice said:
"4th floor. Long-term Senior Residents."
"See you later Nat!" I said with a wink. The doors closed and I made my way down the hallway, Leo once again trailing just behind me.
The doors were brightly coloured on this floor with pictures of each room's occupant. It helped some of those who were in the later stages of dementia or Alzheimer's remember which room was theirs. This whole floor was mostly dedicated to seniors who had diseases or illnesses that would likely keep them here for a long time, or possibly permanently. As an AAT volunteer I was quite familiar with this ward.
Walking briskly down the hallway I was glad not to run into any of the room's occupants. They were lovely people, truly, but I had a scheduled visit to make, and didn't have time for the conversations that tended to drag on.
Coming to the second last door from the end of the hallway I raised my hand and knocked politely but firmly. This one was a dark green and had the name: S. Peterson inscribed on the name plate in bold black letters.
I gently pushed the door open and poked my head in first.
"Mrs. Peterson?"
The old woman was sat up in bed already looking at me.
"Oh come in, come in dear. I have been waiting such a long time for this visit. But no doubt you of all people know the cumbersome paperwork that comes with this program."
"That I don't doubt," I chuckled.
I made my way into the sparsely furnished room and found the seat next to the bed. I lifted Leo onto my lap where he obediently sat, waiting.
"So first things first," I began my usual spiel.
"My name is Sophie Dennis. I am the service worker that has been assigned to you for the duration of this program. I and Leo here will be visiting you twice a week every week for however long you wish us to do so. Just remember we're here to help you relax and enjoy yourself and any questions or concerns, you can voice to me or one of the nurses or doctors."
Her eyes twinkled. "That's quite the speech you have memorized. Now, hopefully I don't seem too presumptuous but will I get to touch that magnificent animal you have there?"
I grinned back. Once again the same old hospital procedures. "Of course Mrs. Peterson. Would you like me to hold him or shall I put him on the bed?"
"Oh do put him on the bed. And as for this nonsense about Mrs. Peterson please call me Susan. Or Ms. Pevensie should you insist on using formal names. I always preferred my maiden name and I'm sure my husband would not mind my changing it back at his passing."
I carefully moved Leo from my lap to the bed. He padded his way to the center and almost instantly settled himself in the old woman's lap. She placed one hand on his back and gently stroked him. His purring filled the silence that had encompassed the room.
Normally I didn't bring up the subject of the patient's deceased spouse or relatives but this particular woman didn't seem to be too emotional about it.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Oh what loss," she scoffed lightly. "It wasn't a loss at all. He did die unexpectedly, but it was peaceful. Even managed to do it in his favourite armchair."
"What was his name?" I asked, curious. I wanted to know more about this woman. Her type of character was one I couldn't remember ever having encountered before.
"Christopher. Lovely man; Very intelligent. He managed to do so much with his life. And consequently mine as well." She winked cheekily at me. "Though I do admit my priorities are rather different now than they were then." She sighed and looked down at Leo who was content in her lap. "He does remind me of a very old friend. One I tried to forget a long time ago. But I remembered him eventually. And he stays in my heart to this day." Her gaze remained focused on the tabby cat, then a wracking cough shook her body.
Acting on automatic I grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table and helped her drink it. Once the coughs had subsided I placed the glass back on the table. Leo, who had tensed up at the sudden violent movements of his recent settee, settled back down again. My gaze drifted to him.
Had she been talking about Christopher, her late husband, or Leo, the cat who was now, once again, ridiculously sprawled across the blankets? I assumed she was talking about her husband as I couldn't see any way a cat could relate to an old friend. But I didn't ask. I'd realized how much I'd already inquired into her personal life and relations. Normally I didn't try talking to the patients about their families until I had been seeing them for at least a couple of weeks. I didn't want to delve too far too soon and break an invisible dam.
The rest of the session was spent in companionable silence with occasional small talk about the weather. Occasionally she had another coughing fit and I helped her through it. When it was time to leave, I picked Leo up and placed him on the ground again.
"That's it for today I'm afraid. I'll see you in a few days time Mrs. Pet-," I saw her raise an eyebrow pointedly. "Sorry, Pevensie."
And with that I walked out the door. I had the funny feeling that she would soon grow to be one of my favourite patients to visit. And judging by the self-satisfied look on Leo's furry face, his too.
This was only our third session so far. Leo was comfortably lying across her legs and purring contentedly. Last time I had taken rather more notice of the few personal effects that were in the room. On the bedside table there were three photographs. A smaller one that was sepia toned, and two larger colour ones. There was only one painting on the wall and it looked to be a framed child's drawing. Perhaps a child of hers had once given it to her and she had managed to preserve it for all these years.
While Ms. Pevensie (I hadn't managed to get the hang of calling her Susan yet, but I had picked up that at least) petted Leo I focused on the drawing just above her bed. Yes, it was definitely a child's drawing. In colourful crayon there were sketched four people, each in robes just as colourful and a crown. In the middle was a massive lion.
"I see you've found my sister's drawing," Ms. Pevensie said. I jumped; I hadn't realized just how long I had been staring at the simplistic drawing.
"Your sister's?"
"Yes. My younger sister Lucy drew that a long time ago. I don't think I could have been more than 14 when she gave it to me. That's her in the photo." With the hand not resting on Leo's back she pointed to the first colour photo on the bedside table.
"May I?" I asked. She waved her hand in a gesture that told me to go ahead.
I picked it up carefully and examined it.
"Here, let me explain," she said. I held the photo out to her so she could point with her free hand and continue petting Leo.
She pointed to the two adults on the left side of the photo. The man had his arm around the woman's waist and both were smiling at the camera. "Those are my parents. To the right are Professor Kirke and Aunt Polly. They're old family friends." She moved her finger to point to an old man who reminded me of Harold Zidler, and an equally aged woman who was smiling broadly, a kindly expression on her face.
Her finger traced its path back to the middle where it settled on another pair. There was a young man, who looked around twenty, with his arm thrown around another young man. "Those are my two brothers. Peter is the one with the blond hair, he was the eldest, and that's Edmund, who was third."
She moved down to the bottom of the photo where three girls sat. "This," she pointed to the girl on the right, "is Jill. She was a friend of Eustace, our cousin. He's not in this photo, since he was taking it. He was in some of the other ones though. I seem to remember switching the taker a lot. But this particular one turned out the best. It was one of the few when someone wasn't laughing." She smiled at the memory.
"I'm on the left. Come to think of it, I think this was the only time I ever saw all of them together; the professor, Jill, Aunt Polly, Eustace and my family I mean. I usually tried to wriggle out of their gatherings."
"You were gorgeous!" I stated my mouth slightly ahead of my mind. Ms. Pevensie laughed.
"Was?"
I was mortified. But she just laughed again.
"Thank you. You might remember my priorities were different back then? Well I'm ashamed to admit that was one of them." She finally pointed to the girl in the middle, who looked absolutely ecstatic to have all her family and friends around her.
"And that is my sister Lucy. She was the youngest out of the four of us. She was so happy to have me there that day."
I let her reminisce for a few more moments before I set the photo back down on the small table.
"Have at look at the other ones, dear."
I did. First I picked up the other colour photo. It was a professional portrait of Ms. Pevensie, and another man who must have been her husband, Christopher. I looked at it for a moment enjoying the happy looks on both of their faces before I set that photo back too. Then I picked up the smallest and oldest photo.
There were four children, who must have been the Pevensie siblings. In the middle was the oldest boy, Peter, who now looked about ten. Lucy was perched on his shoulders, a little girl; she was only just over a toddler's age. He was laughing and Lucy was obviously shrieking with laughter as well. Susan was standing beside them, her head on Peter's shoulder and was obviously trying not to laugh, but the hints of a grin still tugged at her mouth. Her hand rested on Edmund's shoulder, and he looked utterly confused by everything that was going on. I smiled. The whole family looked so sweet, so perfect.
"That was taken before everything," Ms. Pevensie, no, Susan, said. I assumed she was talking about the war. I gathered my courage and asked a question I normally wouldn't dare ask so close to the beginning.
"Where are they?"
"They passed away a long time ago. All of them. Everyone in that first photo, including my siblings, died in a train wreck almost 60 years ago."
"Oh my," my breath hitched. I was used to horrific stories. There were still many a veteran in this ward and I had heard several... well descriptive, tales about the deaths of friends and comrades in arms. But this? Everyone in your life suddenly taken away by something as unlikely as a train wreck? I couldn't imagine that. She must have been so …alone.
"I'm sorry."
"Oh stop with your apologies," she said kindly. "I have long since accepted it and I'm sure they are with Aslan anyhow."
I blinked bemusedly. Aslan? I'd never heard of him. Once again my mouth spoke before my brain reacted. "Who's Aslan?"
I held back a flinch at realizing what I had just asked. This woman had so much tragedy in her life and I might have just brought up another one.
"That, is a story for another time. Suffice it to say that He is magnificent."
I didn't question further. This was unusual behavior. I didn't recall seeing dementia or hallucinations on any of Ms.P-Susan's patient profile. I might be acting paranoid, but I considered mentioning it to Nat on the way out. If he thought it was necessary he could tell Dr. Neil and possibly add it to the file.
However I didn't say a word to Nat as I exited just under half an hour later.
Over the coming month's I admit I grew closer to Susan. I even got the hang of calling her Susan rather than Ms. Pevensie, as you can probably see.
And over the month's I heard stories. So many stories. And wonderful stories they were too. I wasn't left trying to find a sleeping pill in the evening because thoughts of pointless deaths of innocent soldiers plagued my thoughts, but rather fell asleep quite calm. I heard more of Aslan, of a beautiful land called Narnia. I heard of wars yes, but they were wars won and with little bloodshed.
I heard of the many kindnesses of Queen Lucy the Valiant and her amazing cordial that saved so many lives. I heard of the wise decisions of King Edmund the Just and his selfless acts. Heard of High King Peter the Magnificent and of his skills and bravery in battle. And on occasion I heard of Queen Susan the Gentle, whom my Susan seemed almost ashamed to talk about.
I learnt of how Narnia was created. I learnt of the creatures within it. I was told the tale of the White Witch and Aslan's sacrifice.
Susan spoke reverently of these things. Almost as if she thought she was unworthy to pass on the tales. But pass them on she did and I loved all of them.
One thing bothered me though. She never mentioned where she heard these marvelously wound yarns. She never spoke of a parent or older relative passing them on to her. She never once mentioned a book in which she read them. She did not speak of children's games she played with her siblings.
In every sense, I had the distinct feeling that she thought these stories were true. Sometimes I wondered if this was just her way of dealing with the loss of her family. She had imagined them as royalty, forever making them something worth remembering, and inflating common triumphs over bullies in school to epic victories in battle- and perhaps easing her guilt at not being with them.
Somehow I just knew the Susan could have been on that train with them. I knew that now she wished she had been. Was this survivor's guilt or something more though?
The other thing that happened was Susan got steadily worse. Her coughing fits grew more frequent and more severe. Her temperature got dangerously high at some points and sometimes our visits were cancelled because she wasn't in good enough condition to see us. But she was always up a few days later. I knew her time was running out. She had been ill for much too long. She would never recover.
But somehow through all of this, I never mentioned once to any of the other staff, anything about Narnia.
I got the call on one of my days off. I had just gotten Leo back from his weekly visit to the groomers for a proper wash. I think it was a Saturday.
I had literally just stepped through the door when the phone rang. I dropped the keys on the counter, chucked my jacket over a chair, and dodged around the table, grabbing the portable just before the fourth ring.
"Hello, Dennis residence. How can I help you?"
"Sophie?"
"Oh hey Nat. Hang on a mo…"
I stuck the phone between my ear and my shoulder and walked back to where I left Leo. His leash was still attached. I crouched down on the floor and fiddled with the catch for a second before I got it off. I scratched his head a few times and threw the leash up into the air without really looking where I was throwing it, more focused on keeping the phone balanced. It landed on one if the hooks besides the door, the loop at the top slipping over it perfectly by pure fluke. I blinked.
"Sorry Nat. Now what's up? Aren't you not allowed to be calling me while on shift?" He was in such trouble that one time…
"Technically no, but Dr. Neil told me to call you. Mrs. Peterson isn't doing very well. In fact, he doesn't expect her to survive the night."
For a moment I didn't know who he was talking about. Mrs. Peterson?
"She isn't going quietly though. She's insisting she has to see you. I'm really sorry for spoiling your day off but could you make it over here?"
It registered in my brain he was talking about Susan.
"Oh yeah! Of course. I'll be over there within the hour."
"Sweet. Thanks Soph. And I might be stating the obvious but bring Leo. I think that's kind of why she wants to see you. It's not so much you as the cat."
"Sure thing. I'll be there soon."
"Right. Bye."
I heard the dial tone. I strode back into the kitchen and placed the portable back in its holder. I picked up my jacket from its haphazard position over the chair and donned it. Walking back into the small hall I saw Leo still sitting where I left him, looking almost expectant. I grabbed the leash - it seemed almost a shame to remove it from its hook after the perfect landing - and reattached it to Leo's collar.
"Well, looks like we're visiting Susan for the last time Leo," I said. He meowed and led the way out the door.
I opened the car door and set him on the passenger seat as he was well enough behaved that I didn't have to worry about tying his leash to the door handle anymore. I sat myself down on the driver's side and slammed the door. Putting the keys in the ignition I started the car, and we were off.
The trip to the hospital didn't seem to take as long as usual. The traffic was actually quite light for mid-afternoon on a Saturday. Upon arrival I pulled into my usual parking place and let Leo out. I picked up his leash from where it was dragging on the ground and walked him through the sliding doors. Nat waved at me from the front desk and I continued along the path I had travelled so many times before. It didn't take long before I was standing in front of her door again.
I knocked lightly and heard a man's voice say, "Come in".
I pushed the door open to see Dr. Neil and an assistant nurse attending to Susan. She was conscious but didn't look well. The heart monitor occasionally beeped out of time.
"We'll leave you with her," Dr. Neil said. As he passed me on the way out he said quietly "You know what to do?"
Apparently Susan's hearing hadn't been affected because she stated, weakly but clearly, "Of course she does. If I die she doesn't do anything and neither do you. The most she'll have to do is turn off the heart monitor."
Dr. Neil looked resigned. This was obviously one of the times when the patient wanted to go. He and the assistant nurse left the room. For a moment it was silent but for the beating of the heart monitor.
"That was a bit harsh," I said making my way over to her. I sat down in the chair beside her bed and Leo jumped onto the bed of his own accord. She smiled as he settled into his usual position.
"I know," she sighed. "It is just that he has been trying to convince me to try a new medication for the longest time. I want to go though. I want to see my family again." Her hand was lightly brushing Leo's fur. She didn't have the strength to properly pet him.
I felt a lump form in my throat and swallowed it. Normally I didn't get emotionally attached to my patients. I was civil, friendly and kind, or at least I thought I was, but I just didn't get attached. It always ended like this. Well not exactly. Normally I would just find their name no longer on my list of visits. I'd ask Nat if they had cancelled or passed away. Mostly he just shook his head.
I sat there for what felt like an extremely long time. Just waiting for the inevitable and trying to ignore the occasional stinging in my eyes.
Eventually her hand just rested on the bed, her fingers just touching Leo's fur. The heart monitor slowed gradually. Leo sensed something was wrong with his friend and stood up. He padded over to the pillow and put his face close to hers. Susan's eyes were barely open but I saw her look at him.
She smiled and mouthed the word 'Aslan'. Her gaze drifting to the ceiling, she closed her eyes, the smile still on her face. The long shrill beep of the flat line echoed about the room. I waited a few seconds, composing myself then reached over and turned it off.
And then in that split second something happened that made me believe everything Susan had ever told me, and for the rest of my life made me hope that when I died I would be taken by Aslan as well, though I had never been to Narnia.
I was suddenly standing in a beautiful landscape; it looked as though it had been painted by the best of painters. And there standing on a hill in front of me was her family. All the people I had ever heard about from Susan were standing there waiting. Polly, the Professor, and the two adult Pevensie's stood there all looking radiant and young. The three sibling monarchs stood in the middle with Eustace and Jill standing just beside them.
I looked down to see a beautiful young woman running towards them up the hill. I realized, recalling the photograph, that it was a much younger Susan.
She met them and Peter immediately pulled her into a tight hug. I saw Lucy and Edmund put their arms around the two as well, with Lucy clutching Susan's skirt. Then her parents joined the hug and soon everyone was encased in it.
There was a ferocious roar that instilled fear and calm at the same time. On a ridge above the emotional reunion there was a magnificent lion. His head turned to the sky he made the amazing sound again.
And then I was back in the hospital room, the monitor still sounding. My hand was raised towards it, only a few millimeters from the switch. I completed the motion and the room was silent.
Leo was still standing near Susan's head.
"Come on Leo, time to go," I said softly.
He turned and in that moment I swear he looked right at me… and winked.