This has been the hardest chapter to write so far – perhaps because there's a bit less drama to it – still lots of angst though! I've realised that this is turning out to be a really depressing fic, but I'm hoping that there are enough of you out there who appreciate this kind of thing to make it all worthwhile. Please keep reviewing - you don't know how happy it makes me when I get that little envelope in my inbox! Disclaimer: I don't own the Pevensies – if I did, they would have staged a slave rebellion and strung me up by my typing finger after everything I've been putting them through.
"Peter, how can you say that? Just how is what happened to Susan your fault?" Edmund stood up and yelled at his elder brother; all the pent up emotion of the last few hours had finally overwhelmed him and he felt he had to lash out. "Why do you always have to blame yourself for everything? Believe it or not, you're not High King of the whole bloody world…"
Peter stood up too, fists clenched as he glared at Edmund. "This is down to me, Ed. I should've gone with her! She asked me to go, and I turned her down. If I had gone with Susan last night, this would never have happened! But no - I had to look down on her party, her friends… King Peter was just too damned magnificent to lower himself for a night out with his sister…"
"Stop it!" Lucy hissed. She glanced from one brother to the other with righteous fury, her hands pressed over her ears. Sometimes she wished she could just break down and shout and scream, but that was something she would never allow herself to do. At fourteen years old, the youngest Pevensie had come to recognise that the quiet strength of women would often endure long after the bright flame of male wrath had burnt itself out.
"Be quiet, both of you or I'll bang your heads together! Yelling at each other isn't going to help Susan. We have to wait now, and see what the doctor has to say. That's all we can do."
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Half an hour later, Doctor Steadman poked his head around the door; the three siblings were now clustered together on one bed, clutching at each others' hands and talking in low voices. As the door squeaked open, all looked up - Lucy with hope, her brothers with something more akin to alarm.
"You can go in to her now; I've given her something to help her sleep. She'll be out for a few hours, but I think she's going to be fine."
All three jumped up, and Lucy slid past the doctor with a sweet but shaky smile. Edmund followed, with a look on his face which can only be described as pure gratitude. Peter hung back until his brother and sister had left, then he spoke:
"What happened to my sister, sir? Why was she bleeding?"
"You tell me," the doctor replied. "How in God's name does a nice young lady like your sister end up with injuries like that?"
Peter hesitated, and bit his lip.
"You can tell me, son. You're quite safe." And somehow, Peter knew that he was.
"She was attacked on her way home from a party - I don't know any more, except that it was a soldier who did it. It was Edmund that found her. It should have been me… I should have gone with her – she asked me to… I should have…" and the tears threatened to fall again.
"Come now, there's no use crying over spilt milk. What's done is done; you cannot blame yourself for the actions of others. Sit down, and I'll tell you what I know of these matters. It may not be pleasant, but you're a brave young fellow, and I think you need to know the truth."
Peter allowed himself to drop backwards onto his mattress which creaked unsteadily beneath him. The doctor took a seat on Edmund's bed, regarded him gravely, and took a breath:
"Your sister… Susan, is it? Yes? Well now, Susan has been raped."
Peter flinched at the pronouncement of a word he had been avoiding since the moment Edmund had returned with their sister. Somehow, it made things real - to put a label on what had happened. "Yes, sir," he nodded, dully.
"Unfortunately, this is not the first time I have had to tend to wounds of this sort. You wouldn't believe how many cases I have seen which have been, in their essentials, just like this one. And the one thing I will say to you is that while the body may heal… and yes, your sister will live to fight another day… the true scars are psychological. You are going to have to be very strong for Susan over the next few weeks and months."
Peter vowed that he would be. It was the one thing he knew he could guarantee.
"What do I do now?" he wanted to know, "Do I call the police? Do I write to my parents? They're in America…"
"I think you ought to let yourself be guided by your sister on that one, when she wakes up. Rape is a very personal assault; it forcibly takes away all the power a woman has over her own body. You must give Susan control over what she wants to do next."
Peter thought these words through and had to agree with what the doctor was saying; even though every fibre of his being was screaming to avenge his sister, to protect her, he knew that Susan, ever private, ever gentle, would not appreciate fuss or violence.
"But I will say this," the doctor continued. "In the many similar cases I have seen throughout the last twenty years, one thing has stood out, and that is the sad fact that a courageous woman who speaks out against her attacker is often blamed where she should be pitied… a great injustice, but the truth of it is undeniable. Therefore, if Susan does decide to follow this through and seek justice, you must be prepared for that. Even more importantly, you must prepare her for that."
As the doctor finished speaking, Peter went numb. He realised abruptly that there really was no easy way out of this for his sister, for any of them; but he swore to himself that he wouldn't rest until he had guided Susan out of her prison of humiliation and despair. He looked helplessly up at the doctor, who gave him a grave smile, and took a roll of bandage out of his bag.
"Now, be a good chap and sit still a minute while I take care of those knuckles of yours."
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When the doctor had left, Peter joined his siblings in Susan's room. He sat down beside the bed and took her hand in his newly bandaged fingers. She was sleeping in apparent peace, but her skin had taken on an unhealthy, waxy look and her hands and feet were as icy cold as her face was hot.
Peter explained to Edmund and Lucy that the doctor had had to put in some stitches, and that he had given Susan a sedative to help her get some real rest. In addition, he had left some arnica ointment for the bruising and a little bottle of antiseptic with which Lucy was to bathe Susan's hurt foot once a day to prevent infection. Before he had left the house, Doctor Steadman had promised to return in a few days to check up on her.
Peter also related the doctor's advice on how to deal with their sister when she finally woke up:
"We need to act normal around her," he urged, "but let her know that she can talk to us. We need to show her that we love her, but we mustn't get upset in front of her, because you know Susan… she hates scenes. It'll only make her clam up."
Just how they were to traverse this precarious tightrope of emotions, Peter couldn't say, but they all knew that they had to try, for their sister's sake.
"Are we going to write to mum and dad?" Edmund wanted to know.
"That's up to Susan," Lucy took the words from Peter's lips, and he looked at his little sister in fond wonderment. As if in answer to the question he hadn't asked, Lucy shrugged and said:
"That's just how I would want it… if it had happened to me."
Even a suggestion of that notion was too much for her brothers to take: both Edmund and Peter visibly blanched.
"Let's all get some rest," Lucy pronounced, hurriedly. "Susan isn't going to wake up for hours, and we need to be there for her when she does."
Peter and Edmund were forced to agree, but they were all loath to leave the room. Eventually, it was decided that they would drag their mattresses in from their room and sleep on the floor. For once, nobody resented Susan's good fortune at having won the largest bedroom all those years ago when they had first moved to Finchley from Golders Green: now there was plenty of room for all.
Once this task was accomplished, Peter, Edmund and Lucy laid themselves down and within minutes, they were soundly asleep.
