Disclaimer: The characters belong to C.S Lewis. The plot is mine.

Now Look at What You've Done
Susan knew that something was wrong the moment Peter opened the door. She fought the urge to embrace him but she knew that he was in pain. She could hear his laboured breathing. It was heavier than normal and it was laced with small hiccups. Though she could see no traces of tears, she knew by his bowed head that her brother had certainly been crying. Peter sounded like he was sniffling slightly. He was hunched over and he looked unsteady on his feet.

"Oh Peter," she murmured softly. "You're hurt."

She was surprised he had managed to close the door before staggering and collapsing on the bed.

"I'm fine." The pillow muffled Peter's hoarse voice "Don't worry."

Susan reached to comfort him but she pulled back when she heard his hiss of pain.

"Peter? Are you alright?" Worry lined her young face. She could not see in the dark and she had no matches to light the candle. "Peter!"

"I'm fine," Peter replied shakily. Her touch had been fire, sending searing pain all over his back.

Susan ignored him and lightly put her hand on his shoulder. He groaned softly. Her eyes widened when she realised that his shirt was not wet with sweat but blood. "Peter, you're hurt really badly," she whispered insistently. Peter just moaned as she tried to take off his shirt.

"No more. No more," Peter mumbled.

"Edmund, I know you're not asleep and if you want to do something make up for this the least you could do is to get out of your bed and get a candle from the hallway," Susan said coldly.

Edmund got up and did as she said. He had recoiled at her words, his heart clenching fearfully. Peter's pained moans filled his mind.

"Peter dear just roll to the side…that's it…I'm sorry, it won't take long…that's it…" Susan grimaced as she undid his shirt and slowly peeled it off his back. All the while Peter protested like a child. He whimpered. Susan knew that he must be in a lot of pain. She had never seen him act like this even when he had fallen off the tree once and he broke his arm. He did want to get in trouble had hidden his broken arm for 2 days before his parents noticed.

Edmund came back with two lit candles. As he approached Susan and Peter, he held his breath. Susan was on the verge of tears again. He set down one candle by the bed. Edmund glimpsed his brother's back and instantly looked away. "I'm sorry Peter," he whispered.

"You should be," Susan said through clenched teeth. Her anger was barely concealed. "Now look at what you've done." Susan gestured at Peter, who was lying face down and moaning. Peter was in too much pain to pay attention to any conversation. Her eyes blazed with fury and Edmund saw her hand twitch. She was clenching and unclenching her fists. She moved.

Edmund flinched. I suppose I do deserve to be hit, he thought fearfully. It would be nothing compared to Peter anyways.

Susan merely gave him an angry look and snatched the other candle from his grip. For a moment, he thought that Susan would strike him. Unsteadily, he turned and lay anxiously on his bed. He wrapped his arms around himself and curled up into the fetal position.

She had not missed her younger brother's frightened look but she had Peter to focus on. Later, she thought. Susan took a handkerchief and dipped it into the jug of water on the tray sitting on the small table. Slowly but firmly, she cleaned Peter's cuts. At first he just moaned and stiffened, trying to pull away from her. As she cleaned the deeper cuts, his tears dissolved into the pillow. Sobs wracked his broken body but he muffled his own tears. Susan tried to get him to hold still but his shoulders shook as he hiccuped. He didn't want to wake up Lucy.

"What happened to you?" Susan asked. She hadn't expected an answer. It was more a question for herself.

Peter's voice was thin and ragged. "He gave me 10 for the window… 10 for lying…used the cane…then the belt…with the buckle…" The effort of speaking was painful and he gasped. He was so soft that Susan could barely hear him, she had to lean over. She did not know if she was imagining it, but at this close proximity, it was almost as if she could smell the blood. Peter's blood. Blood from a loving sacrifice all for an undeserving reciever.

Susan was horrified and shushed him. "Save your strength." She continued to dip the cloth in the jug and wiping the blood off her brother's back.

Peter could feel the pain across his back as if he were beaten all over again. He shifted weakly away from Susan's hand, his cuts stinging.

"You'll be ok. Just a bit more," Susan said comfortingly. She was sickened as she saw the water jug turn from a crystal clear to a light pink and now to red.

"What's happening? Who is crying? Why?" Lucy asked drowsily. She half-got up before Susan could stop her.

"No no, stay in bed Lulu," Susan said quickly. She didn't want Lucy to see this. "Just go to sleep please."

"But why are you crying?" Lucy asked.

Susan was about to deny it when she realised that she was crying. "I'm crying because…Peter's hurt." No more lies, Susan promised herself. No more lies – for Peter.

"I wanna see!" Lucy protested.

"No you don't," Susan said firmly. She shielded Peter from view by her body. Susan knew that Peter wouldn't want Lucy to see him like this. "It's bad. Now Lulu, please, go to bed."

Lucy seemed shocked and obeyed.

It was late at night before Susan could rest. Peter fell asleep shortly Susan had cleaned his wounds. He was completely exhausted from his ordeal. Susan had stroked his sweat-soaked hair and whispered comfort to him until sleep could relieve him of his pain. Then she made sure that he was asleep before she closed her eyes.

Edmund did not sleep all night. The sounds of Peter's sobs haunted him. He could see Peter's bloodied back even though his eyes were closed. It was all my fault, he blamed himself. It should have been me. He forced himself not to cry because he didn't feel worthy of tears. Susan should have hit me. I deserve it. Forgive me Lord, I have sinned.

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