Hope you enjoyed Chapter one. Here's chapter two, please let me know what you think – I hope it's not too depressing, but you gotta love the angst. I don't own any of these characters, please don't sue. Enjoy!

"Oh my God," Peter cried, as Edmund lost his grip and Susan pitched forward into his arms. He looked up aghast at Edmund, who had tears rolling down his cheeks, and a deep gash in his lip. Peter felt the blood drain from his face. Then suddenly Edmund too flew forwards and was in Peter's arms, almost knocking the three of them over.

"Hey, hey…" Peter said, patting Edmund on the back, and making shushing sounds. Susan sagged heavily from his left arm, her hair hanging down obscuring her features. Peter, regaining himself quickly, took charge.

"Come on Edmund, help me with Susan. You're alright." Sniffing, Edmund straightened up, nodded and then bent down to lift Susan's legs. She had lost a shoe, and her bare foot was bleeding. Peter took the weight of her upper half, and together the two brothers managed to carry Susan into the living room, where they lay her on the couch. Peter kneeled down beside her head, and Edmund collapsed onto the sofa with his sister's legs over his lap. He started sobbing.

A small figure appeared in the doorway. "What's going on?" asked Lucy, her voice high-pitched with fright. "What's wrong with Susan?" Quickly, she observed the situation and darted across the room.

"Lucy, go back upstairs," Peter commanded, trying to shield Susan from view with his body.

"No," said Lucy simply, as she drew close to the sofa where her sister lay. Upon glimpsing Susan's prone figure, she gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth.

"Lucy!" Peter cried, pushing her away. "Edmund, get her out of here!" But Edmund was bent double over Susan's legs, shaking violently as moans and sobs escaped his lips. Peter stood up and grasped Lucy by the shoulders.

"Lu, I need you to take Edmund into the kitchen and make him some hot tea with lots of sugar in it, alright? He's had a nasty shock by the looks of it." Lucy gulped, and nodded. She moved towards Edmund and touched his hand – he clutched her palm feverishly in his fist and continued to sob.

Peter thought for a second and added, "And Lu, there's a bottle of brandy in the cabinet by the sink. Put a little bit of that in it too, okay?" She looked at Peter with wide eyes, but nodded again.

"Come on Ed," she said gently. When he didn't move, she said, more forcefully – "Edmund, come on. Come with me."

Slowly, painfully Edmund lifted Susan's legs and rose to his feet. His head sagged, and his feet seemed too heavy for him, but he followed Lucy obediently into the kitchen.

Once his youngest siblings had left the room, Peter surveyed the damage. Susan was deathly pale, and there was a deep purple bruise blossoming at her temple. Her face was streaked with tears and mascara, her lipstick was rubbed off and her chin was red and sore-looking. Her expression, even in sleep, was troubled.

The pretty china blue dress was ripped at the collar, exposing her under-slip, which was also torn. Peter gritted his teeth and felt rage welling up behind his eyes. His sisters legs were splashed with mud, and her immaculate stocking lines, so painstakingly drawn on not six hours earlier, were streaked and smudged. There was a thin trail of brownish-red blood on her skirt, and trickling down her right leg. Her knees were grazed and her unshod left foot was black and bleeding.

"Susan," he whispered, shaking her gently. "Susan, wake up. It's Peter." Her eyes fluttered, and a look of pain shot across her face. She moaned and moved fretfully.

"Susan!" Peter hissed, and tapped her sharply on the cheek several times. "Susan!"

Susan awoke, and within a split second her brother wished he had left her unconscious. Her eyes flew open in panic and as soon as they focused on Peter, her face crumpled and she began to cry, a low, despairing, gulping sob that tore at his heart.

The only thing Peter could do was reach for her and hold her in his arms until her weeping subsided. She smelled of sweet wine and cheap perfume and…something else. Susan clutched at him and he could feel hot tears soaking the back of his neck. He shushed her, the way he used to shush Lucy when she was little and had had a bad dream, and wished with all his might that things were as simple as they had been then, that he could make her fear and pain go away the way he had when they were little.

After a little while, Peter said softly, with a little choke in his voice: "Su… what happened? Who did this to you?" He gently tried to push her away so that he could look at her face, but she simply started to cry harder and clutched at him fiercely. She did not want to look into his eyes; she felt she would never be able to look him in the face again.

"Hey, hey, hey…" Peter repeated this nonsense over and over again, and after a time, Susan's grip loosened, her body went limp and her breathing quietened down to become slow and regular. She was asleep. Peter gently lowered his sister to the pillow of the sofa and stood up. His hands clenched and unclenched impotently, angry tears sprang to his eyes; he wanted to strike out and hit something – somebody - but he had to restrain himself for fear of waking Su up again. If he could help it, he would not let her awaken until the morning. Everything would seem better then.

Composing himself, Peter headed for the kitchen where he found Lucy, looking white and frightened, with her arm around Edmund's neck. Edmund himself looked a little better; the mug of tea was empty save for the dregs, and Edmund's eyes looked a little unfocused, but he had stopped crying. Peter noticed for the first time that Ed's lip was split. It was half past two in the morning.

"How's Susan?" Lucy asked, her eyes wide.

"I think she's alright," Peter lied, and tried to smile at his little sister, who was not so little anymore. "She's sleeping now." Knowing that Lucy was always better if she had something to do, he added: "Can you go in and sit with her? I don't want her to be alone." Lucy nodded, and slid off her chair. As she passed him, Peter clasped her in a tight embrace. She was the only one of his siblings who had not yet suffered because he hadn't been there to save them. If he could help it, he would make sure that Lucy at least escaped the pain and fear that Edmund - and now Susan - had had to endure.

Lucy smiled up at Peter with teary eyes, and left the room to go and sit beside her sleeping sister. It was not often that she got to look after Susan, but she knew she wouldn't fail. She wasn't called "The Valiant" for nothing.

Peter turned his attention to Edmund now, and sat on the chair that his sister had vacated. Glancing round the kitchen, and could see hints of Susan everywhere, in the neatly folded towels, in the brightly coloured tea-cosy Susan had crocheted their mother for Christmas, to the gleaming plates on the draining board that his sister had carefully washed, only a few hours previously. He let out a long, drawn-out sigh and inclined his head towards his little brother, now so quiet beside him

"So tell me," he said gently. "What happened?"