A/N ok, Defender of literary Narnia, whoever you are, I actually am beginning to like your criticism. It's really helpful. Thank you.

Your Author in Training, who is beginning to realize she has no idea what she's doing,

Havah

Quickly, Peter drew his sword, though he knew that he didn't much stand a chance alone against 9 of the surviving secret police. Almost right off there was bloodshed on both sides, one wolf was dead, and Peter had a large gash on his back, it wasn't looking goods. Just then, an arrow whizzed by Peter's head, and caught one of the wolves in the throat. The glint of another sword fighting beside him much relieved Peter, as he knew that Edmund and Susan were fighting by his side. It took Peter a little while to realize that Lucy was also with them, but then he saw her little dagger catch a wolf, and throw it backwards. After the arrival of the three other Pevensies, the fight ended quickly.

Susan, being able to shoot from a distance didn't have a scratch on her, Edmund had to scratches on his left leg, Lucy had a gash on her right fore arm, and a cut on her cheek, but it was Peter who suffered the most damage. He came away from the fight with a large gash on his back, another on his chest, and a cut just above his right eyelid. Lucy rushed to him, and immediately tried to slow the bleeding with the sleeve of her dress; however, this had little effect. The blood finally began to slow when Susan rushed over, ripped off the hem of her dress in a few places, and wrapped it around the wounds. Aside from occasional sharp stabs of pain, Peter was able to walk, with the support of Edmund and Susan up to his room, where his cuts were washed, freshly bandaged, and soon after extremely slowed the bleeding. However, Peter had already lost much blood, and needed his rest, he fell again, into a fitful sleep full of bad dreams that he could not seem to wake from.

The next morning, it was the sun that woke Peter up, and not someone. He rolled over, and quickly remembered the night before as a quick pain shot up his back. Not wanting to move, he fell back on his bed, and lay there for what seemed like an hour, before he heard a knock on the door. "Peter, are you awake?" Susan was at the door.

"Yeah, come on in," Susan did so, and her smile eased a bit of the pain.

"How are you feeling?"

"Never been better," Peter joked "is everybody else doing alright?"

"Yeah, only a couple scratches, you got the worst of it."

"Just my luck, isn't it?"

"Well, it was inevitable, considering you didn't really have help at first."

"Thank you for joining the fight, if this is me with your help, think of how I would look without it," Peter meant this to be light, but Susan grimaced at the thought.

"Well, are you well enough to see some visitors?" asked Susan.

"Always am," said Peter, "bring it on." The door swung open without Susan having to say another word, and Lucy, Edmund, and Mr. Tumnus entered.

"How are you feeling?" asked Lucy, genuinely anxious for an answer.

"You look terrible!" joked Edmund, Peter gave him a glare, then a smile.

"I'm feeling better, but not the best I've felt all year."

"Yes, well, from what your brother and sister here told me, you're lucky to be alive at this point!" exclaimed Mr. Tumnus.

"Yeah, well, it looks like I'm going to make it through all right this time, but we'll have to see," said Peter, "My siblings are killing me quicker then I can say!" He joked.

"Oh Peter, give it a rest!" shouted Lucy, then with a quizzical look from Susan, she apologized for her loud noise making.

"So, how s Rebecca doing?" asked Peter curiously.

"Peter, I think that there is something you need to know about her," said Susan quietly.