Authors Note: Thanks to Opera Dove for thinking of the title, summary and betaing the first chapter for me and thanks again to Sentimental Star who's fic inspired this chapter takes place two years later. I only own the little bullies as jerks as they are.

Chapter Two

Two years had passed and in that time a lot of things had changed. The Pevensie had one more addition to the family - a new baby girl named Lucy. Peter would be starting school soon - or rather he should be - they just weren't sure where to send him.

"Send him to a boarding school for deaf children," Helen's mother said, when she came to visit. Helen ignored her. For one thing Mother seemed uncomfortable around Peter. She didn't like being around him and made an effort not to.

"James and I couldn't do that. I'm sure there's some day schools for deaf children around here," Helen said.

"Why does the child keep staring at me?" asked. "Shoo! Go away!" she made a shooing motion with her hand as if Peter were a dog not a little boy.

Susan skipped into the room and Mrs. Scrubb lavished her with kisses and hugs and presented her with a little gift.

"Thank you!" Susan squealed. She looked at Peter then at her grandmother,"Grandmother doesn't Peter get a gift like me? I know that he wants one."

"How do you know? He hasn't said anything and he never will," Mrs. Scrubb protested.

"I just know he does," Susan said simply. "Never mind he can have mine." She grabbed Peter's hand and placed the gift in his palm.

"There you could have it," she said while tapping the gift and pointing to him. She grabbed his hand to pull him out of the room.

Helen turned to her mother. "Why do you always treat Peter like that? As though he were one of your servants! He's my son and your grandson. But you act as if he's stupid just because he can't hear or speak. He really is a very clever child."

"Well, I can see I'm not wanted here," Mrs. Scrubb said standing up, "Thank you for having me, dear, but I must get home."

Helen sighed as her mother left, then began picking up the toys scattered about the den. Peter came in tugging at her skirt.

Grandma doesn't like me he signed. When Helen looked down, she didn't tell him he waas wrong because that would be a lie. She did the only thing a mother could do in a situation like this. She gave him a hug and kiss, then led him to the couch.

How would you like to go to school and play with other little boys and girls? Helen asked.

Peter shook his head. Want to stay with you. I don't like school. It's yucky.

Helen bit back a smile. Even at six Peter could be very opionated. No, it's not darling. It's fun.

Peter slid off the couch and ran off, probably to play with Susan and Edmund.

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There was a day school for deaf children in Finchley about ten minutes away from the house. It was a small church run school called 's.

"Will he be all right?" Helen asked the headmistress when she dropped Peter off at the school a few days later.

"Of course! You needn't worry about a thing." The Mother Superior assured her. "Just be here at three to pick him up."

Helen knelt down to Peter's eyelevel, Be a good boy and Mummy will be back at three o clock, okay?

A nun came around the corner and reached for Peter's hand. He shied away pressing closer to Helen.

"Perhaps I should take him," Helen offered.

"All right," the nun said, leading the way. They stopped at a door and she pushed open the door to reveal a brightly decorated classroom filled with children. Peter looked at Helen and she nodded. It's all right, darling. Go on.

Peter dropped her hand and headed toward a table covered with pieces of clay. He didn't see Helen leave. He was too intent on squishing the clay in his hands. A little red headed girl trotted up to him and took some clay. Peter frowned, smacked her hand and took the clay away.

Sister Mary Margaret, the nun in charge, saw him and hurried over. She handed the clay back to the little girl. She led Peter to a different table and handed him a book. He threw it on the floor. He wanted to play with the clay, not look at a book.

Sister Mary Margaret picked up the book. "Book," she said slowly and distinctly several times holding it up.

Peter was having none of it. It was the clay or nothing, so Sister Mary Margaret let him go back to playing with the clay.

"How was he?" Helen asked, several hours later when she came to pick him up.

"We had a few small problems. He seems to have taken a claim to the clay and doesn't like the other children playing with it," Sister Mary Margaret said.

"I'm sorry. He's never played with children outside the family before," Helen apologised. "We are working on the sharing thing though."

A few weeks later Helen and James decided to let Peter walk to school half way. There were no streets to cross after they reached the post office and it was only a little ways.

"Hey, there little boy! Where you going?" a black haired boy jumped out of tree landing in front of Peter. Several other children joined him.

"What's in that bag then?" the oldest boy asked. "Come on! Give us a look." He reached for it.

Peter stood there. He didn't like the looks of the children and he clutched his pail tighter.

"Why are you standing there? What's the matter? Too stupid to talk?" A freckled faced girl asked, "Speak! Say something unless you want us to shove you in the mud!"

"Ah, he's just a stupid baby grab his hands. We'll take his lunch," the leader said.

They crowded around Peter twisting his arm until he dropped his lunch. Snatching it up they ran away, laughing .

Helen couldn't understand why Peter was hungry all the time or why he didn't want to go to school anymore.

"Did something happen at school?" James asked, when Helen confided in him.

"I don't know. He won't tell me, but I know he doesn't want to actually leave the house, but if I take him he's fine. I don't think it's the school. Maybe it's the walk to school."

"Perhaps you should follow him in the car, but so he can't see and watch if anything out of the ordinary happens," James suggested as Lucy let out a wail.

Helen went over to the cradle and picked up her youngest child. "Are you sure that'll work?"

"Of course it will, Darling." James assured her.

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"Yaaah!" Eight kids in horrible masks jumped out in front of Peter. They crowded around him hands joined and skipped around him jeering.

"Say something, baby!" They shrieked skipping around him. "Go on Dum-dum! Say "go away!" Do it or we'll torture you!"

Peter may not have not been able to hear or speak, but he could see and those masks were frightening. They were too close to him. He wanted to get away, but he couldn't find a way. The cirlce was closed too tightly. Faster and faster, the horrible creatures skipped around him. Suddenly he screamed a high pitched scream of terror

Helen saw everything and stopped the car, anger coursed through her as she got out of the car and ran to where the children were still dancing around Peter, ignoring his screams, though some had their ears covered.

One of the children saw Helen approach. "Uh oh!" he said and they took off running in different directions. Helen had other things to worry about besides a bunch of cruel children.

Eyes squeezed shut and deaf to everything but his own terror, Peter was still screaming. Helen rushed to him attempting to soothe him in the middle of the sidewalk. She picked him up and carried him to the car. She drove home as fast as she could.

"Helen?" Grace Pevensie met her at the door. "What are you doing home? What's wrong with Peter?" She asked, noticing she was carrying Peter. He had stopped screaming, but was still crying.

Grace reached for her oldest grandchild. "Never mind a nice cup of tea and hot chocolate, will work wonders."

"Thank you, but you needn't trouble yourself. I think I'll just put Peter down for a bit of a nap," Helen said. She prefered the company of her mother-in-law to her own mother.

"Tell me what happened, when you've come down," Grace said, as Helen headed up the stairs.

"Taunting him?" Grace asked shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe children can be that cruel," she poured herself a cup of tea.

"Well, they can be," Helen said, though if she hadn't seen it for herself she would have never have believed it.

"I know this is none of my concern, but perhaps you should just teach Peter at home." Grace suggested.

"I'll talk to James about it," Helen replied.