AN: Alright…this is not exactly a part of the Strange Ones universe, but it is at the same time. This is a song-fic, and all lyrics to the song "Lucy" belong to the band Skillet. I only own my original character and plot. Now, I am proud to present, "Remember Your Name".

Hey Lucy, I remember your name/I left a dozen roses on your grave today

The young man sat on the rough stone bench, his chin resting on his hands. Before him was a morbid sight—a gravestone with a bouquet of red, red, roses laid before it. He had placed those roses there.

She had not been gone long. She has been gone for ten days. Ten little days, and he did not know how he was going to live without her.

I just came to talk for a while/I got some things I need to say

She had affected him so much, in the time she had been on earth. She was so alive, so vibrant. She had taken his cold, boring, heart out of hibernation and revived it. Lucy Pevensie had changed him. She took the old Theodore Walsh and made him into something better. Everyone could see it, and she was loved even more for it. She had such a heart. Lucy was kind and loving; she was a piece of heaven that fell from the sky.

But she was also haunted. Lucy had ghosts in her past that she had never told him about. She had seen and done things that Theodore dares not imagine, just for the fear of ruining the Lucy he remembered.

I just wanna hold her/I'd give up all the world to see/That little piece of heaven looking back at me

He loved her, so, so, much. They had been courting officially for six months before she…left, and he had only said it once. She had said it back to him that day as well, and it was one of the best in his memory.

"Peter and Edmund are both going away for the weekend to see our old friend the Professor, and Susan has yet another party. That means that we can see each other every day of the week without my brothers breathing down our necks." She smiled deviously, as Lucy was apt to do.

"So I take it that you would like to go to the museum this weekend, then?"

"Theo, I would always like to go to the museum with you. Especially when I do not have to be chaperoned by my overprotective brothers." Lucy wrapped her arms around his neck, and met his lips in a chaste kiss.

"I do love you, Lucy. You know that, right?" He was hesitant. They may have been courting for four months, and he had known her for many years beforehand, but neither of them had taken this step.

"Oh Theo, I do know. And I love you very much as well."

The memories of her were what hurt the worst. He had spent so much time with her over the years. They were the couple of Finchley. They had grown up together. Everyone had expected them to get married one day, and then the accident happened.

Hey Lucy, I remembered your birthday/ They said it'd bring some closure to say your name

She died ten days before her seventeenth birthday. She was going with her brothers to meet some old family friends, and the train derailed. She was standing near the tracks, and was killed instantly.

He had not been able to say goodbye. Theodore had last seen Lucy the day before. They had fought—about something so miniscule—and he hadn't spoken to her in the time since.

"I told you Theo! I cannot go out tonight. I have to pack."

"Why not, Lucy? You're just up and leaving again; this is the second time in three weeks! I just want to know why you are leaving again so soon, and you will not tell me! You can trust me, love." Theodore grasped her by the waist and pulled Lucy in.

"It is not a matter of trust, Theo." She shoved him backwards.

"I feel like it is. I feel like you think that you cannot trust me with something, and I am just curious why."

"There is nothing to tell."

"Lucy, I think I know you well enough to tell when you are hiding something."

"It is nothing, Theo! Drop it! And look, I have to pack. Goodnight."

"Fine, then. Clearly you are too busy tonight." Theo spat out. "I will see you after you get back." As Lucy watched from her window, Theodore Walsh left her house and walked two houses over to his.

He had not even said goodbye to the girl that he was head-over-heels in love with, and he would regret it for every moment of his life. It would have been her seventeenth birthday today. He had brought her roses, and she would never see them.

The memories flew in and out of Theodore Walsh's mind. He and Lucy walking hand in hand through the little town. He and Lucy laughing over the smallest things. She was his best friend, his true love, his soul mate, and she was gone. Lucy was not coming back. He would have given the world to see her one more time—to simply say goodbye—and he would never have the chance.

Lucy Pevensie was the life and love of Theodore Walsh. All he had left were memories of the vibrant girl. She was his Valiant Queen, and he was her Loyal King.

The King had lost his other half.

Hey Lucy I remember your name