Rating for this chapter: K+

Warnings: Besides general angst, there are none for this chapter.

I do not own Narnia or it's characters.

I know it's a bit slow in the beginning, or maybe in general but I wanted to write something where they were having an honest conversation with each other. A lot of the conversations I see between them are too emotional or too fluffy and it just does not work because they don't end up resolving any issues. I wanted to try writing a better one. Hopefully I achieved that.

It doesn't escape Peter's notice that Edmund is valiantly trying to avoid making eye contact with him across the dinner table. It doesn't escape Peter's notice that Lucy is holding Edmund's underneath the table. And it certainly doesn't escape Peter's notice that Edmund has only picked at the meal he'd normally wolf down with a content grin.

Yet, Peter does not blame his brother for any of it because it is partially Peter's fault. Peter is going away and Edmund cannot follow. At least not for another three years. It should give Edmund some peace of mind that at least Peter isn't headed towards dangerous battle and trudging through unknown territories; Peter is simply going to University. But it does not give Edmund peace of mind, and Peter understands because they both know the pain and anxiety of the other leaving straight into peril. However, they have never experienced simple, good old separation from the other. They do not know how to deal with this. The other separation, while infinitely more anxiety ridden, is familiar- probably too familiar. But this, this type of separation is as foreign to them as the country, America, Susan has gone to.

To Edmund's credit, he has handled it all better than Peter expected- until tonight.

Mrs. Pevensie had cooked all of Peter's favorite food for the final dinner he would be having with them for a long time. Conversation was light, and a few laughs were shared, but it all felt forced. Lucy looked as if she would cry at any moment and she was shooting worried looks between Peter and Edmund. Susan managed to keep conversation rolling but kept looking at her watch, desperately waiting for the moment that her friends would arrive to whisk her away to a party. Mrs. Pevensie made sure everyone's plates were fully loaded with food and fidgeted with the worn hem of her apron. Edmund had said nothing, had barely lifted his eyes from his plate. And Peter tried to take care of them all but found it impossible and concentrated on just enjoying his food.

Abruptly, Edmund stood up from the table with a muttered sorry, and pounded up the stairs. Peter and Lucy locked eyes briefly, before Peter pushed his chair back and followed Edmund.

"Ed?" Peter knocked on the bathroom door.

The only sound that greeted Peter in response was a sniffle on the other side of the door.

"Eddie? Please, come out of there and talk to me." Peter leaned against the wall, and ran his fingers through his hair.

Still no answer.

Peter started to jiggle the locked door knob. He normally wouldn't have pushed this hard for Edmund to talk to him, but they didn't have much time left to talk. After a few minutes, Peter finally gave up, and fell silent.

He heard Edmund breathe a sigh of relief, but that relief was short lived because, "Edmund. Please."

The door flew open, Edmund's already perpetually messy hair standing on end from running his hands through it too many times, and eyes that were suspiciously bright.

"Can't I ever have a moment alone? Or get upset without you barging into everything?" Edmund shouted.

Peter withdrew the hand that was reaching for Edmund as if he'd been burned. Edmund stared at Peter's hand, then back at Peter, before pushing past his brother.

Peter snapped the last suitcase shut, and glanced out the window where he could see Edmund sitting underneath the large tree in the backyard, his head in his hands.

Flopping onto his head, Peter let out a sigh. He should have known better than to push Edmund too hard. He should know better than anyone that needs time to sort himself out before he can talk. Now Edmund may never talk, and Peter will leave and…and…was he really like that? Barging into everything? Trying to fix everything? Trying to keep everything away that could ever add more things that hurt inside Edmund…

The door to their bedroom opened and closed, leaving Peter looking at a remorseful looking little brother who was trying his best not to look at Peter for the second time that night.

"Ed?"

Peter tried, but Edmund did not reply. Instead he combed his hair and changed into his pajamas before settling on the edge of his bed.

He sat there for a full minute, swinging his legs and staring at his bare toes before speaking.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you. I didn't mean…didn't mean to hurt you…I just," Edmund drew in a shaky breath as he lost the words he had been rehearsing for an hour outside.

Peter sat up as Edmund opened his mouth again to continue, but cut him off, "I know, Eddie."

Edmund nodded, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"I should have let you sort yourself out. I should have known better, I just didn't want to leave without talking about anything. But I'm sorry if I push myself too hard upon you when you need to be left alone. You don't need-"

"That's the problem, Pete. I need too much."

"What do you mean?"

"I need other people too much. You…you mostly though." Edmund stood up and began pacing the space between their beds. "But, I shouldn't need you or anyone else so much. I should be able to take care of myself. I shouldn't need anyone, Peter. I'm just…too…weak."

Edmund stopped pacing and rested his elbows on the window sill with his hands knotted in his hair.

"And now that I'm leaving for University, and I won't be around all the time you're afraid that you won't be able to handle anything," Peter said quietly.

"Exactly."

Peter walked up behind Edmund, and spun him around to face him.

"You, Edmund Pevensie, are not weak. Everyone needs someone. When Lucy…or when I come to you for help…do you think we're weak?"

"Of course not!"

"Well we don't think you're weak either. You're the strongest of all of us."

Edmund stood there contemplating that as Peter walked back to his bed and threw the covers back. "Come on, Ed. We should get some sleep."

Edmund followed Peter, threw back the covers to his own bed, and climbed in.

"By the way, it's not as if I am disappearing. You can call, you can write, and if you really need me I will find a way to come home."

"I know," Edmund replied as he settled down beneath his blankets. "Just promise me one thing."

"Hm?"

"Don't spend all your time worrying about me, Pete."

Peter snorted into his pillow. "I'll try Eddie, but you give me too many reasons to worry."