AN: I've been asked how old the Pevensies are supposed to be in this fic, so the ages are as follows,

Peter: 16

Susan: about 14 or 15

Edmund: Around 10 or 11, no older than 12

Lucy: 9

Hope that helps.

"What do you mean, you don't have the photographs?" Susan asked, shooting an angry glance at her sister's friend who'd arrived at their house sobbing, carrying an empty tin.

"Mum took them." Marjorie explained, crying so hard that Susan just barely understood what she was saying. "I thought she'd give them right back, but she gave them to my dad who's having them tested."

"Tested?" Lucy asked. "Tested for what?"

Marjorie gulped down another sob before answering. "Tested to see if the fairies in it are real or something like that. Oh, Lucy, I'm so sorry!" She burst into even more tears, her whole body shaking. "I begged them not to. I cried and sulked and nothing!"

"I can't believe Lucy let you take the photographs home with you in the first place." Susan snapped, glaring at her little sister. "What were you thinking?"

"Please don't blame Lucy." Marjorie cried. "it's all my fault!"

"No it isn't." Lucy said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Come now, don't cry anymore, it'll be alright."

"But what about them poor fairies?" Bawled Marjorie. "People will come with big nets and...." She couldn't finish her sentence, she threw her head into her hands.

"Mrs. Esmara's garden is private property, Marjorie." Susan told her, starting to calm down a bit, and beginning to feel sorry for Marjorie even though it was her fault they'd lost the photos. "And besides, your mum wouldn't tell anyone where the photos where taken, would she?"

Marjorie brightened up a little at that. "Probably not."

"That's right." Susan said. "Now we have to be more careful in the future. We have got to get those photographs back as soon as possible, and then put them under lock and key."

Meanwhile, Mr. Trent was examining the photos with a look of pure marvel written all over his face.

"So are they real?" Mr. Preston asked.

Mr. Trent nodded. "They're single shot, untouched, exposures." He assured him.

"The fairies...are they...?" Mrs. Preston asking, clenching her hands with excitement.

Mr. Trent let out a friendly little laugh. "I wouldn't know a fairy from a dragon fly, but let me tell you two things, one, whatever is in this shot was not added in later but really there at the time of exposure and two," He let go of the photograph of Susan and the gnome, picking up the one of Lucy surrounded by the fairies and added. "The wings shown in this photo were really in motion at the moment of exposure."

Mr. and Mrs. Preston caught their breath in their chests and looked at each other shaking their heads. The fairy photos weren't fakes! What did that mean for the world?

Suddenly a loud wail erupted from another room, cutting into their thoughts.

"Good heavens!" Mrs. Preston said, putting her hand to her heart. "What is that?"

Mr. Trent sighed. "Rupert must be having another nightmare." he clicked his tongue. "Poor boy."

"Who's Rupert?" Mr. Preston asked.

"That's right, you don't know." Mr. Trent said, cleaning his photo-studying glasses as he spoke. "Rupert is a boy I found-half dead-in the bushes of my back yard."

"Ugh, how horrid." Mrs. Preston gasped. "What had happened to him?"

"I'm not sure, but I was relaxing in my yard after raking my leaves, when I saw a thin stream of blood pouring out from the bushes." Mr. Trent explained. "I discovered that somehow or other, an injured boy had gotten in there." He shuddered as he went on. "He was weak and one of his legs was extremely messed up. The poor boy was in so much pain that he kept fainting, waking up, and then fainting again."

"Was he able to speak?" Mr. Preston asked.

"Once he mumbled, 'Is he okay?', but before I could ask him who he meant, he fainted again and didn't remember what he'd been talking about afterwards." Mr. Trent said. "It was horrible. But he's recovering nicely. I just wish I could find his family, if he has any."

"Can't Rupert just tell you who his family is?" Mrs. Preston asked.

"He doesn't remember." Mr. Trent told her. "He suffers from extreme memory loss. The only way I even knew his name was Rupert, was because he had a pocket watch with his name engraved on it."

"That's terrible." Mr. Preston said sadly. "But he's doing fairly well?"

Mrs. Trent shook his head. "Some of the time he is. Early afternoons are hard for him."

"Why?" Mr. Preston asked.

"Because the drugs the doctor has him take for the pain in his leg make him sleepy and he has the most dreadful nightmares." Mr. Trent explained. "For some reason he doesn't get them at night, only in the afternoon."

"Maybe it's the drugs that induces the nightmares?" Mrs. Preston thought aloud.

"I've often wondered if that was the case." Mr. Trent admitted. "However, the doctor assures me that his disturbing dreams are due to trauma. And he would know better than I."

"I see, well thank you very much for looking over the photographs, Mr. Trent." Mr. Preston said gratefully. "How much do we owe you?"

Mrs. Preston opened her purse.

Mr. Trent shook his head. "No, I wont charge you this time." He smiled at them. "But next week if you come back with some photographs of Elves, then we'll talk about payment."

"Okay then, thank you very much." Mr. and Mrs. Preston left.

"I'd best go and check on Rupert now." Mr. Trent said to himself, walking into the room where Rupert laid on the couch, his eyes wide open; staring at the ceiling, his face as white as a sheet.

"Are you alright?" Mr. Trent asked.

Rupert shook his head. "She was so scared." He said softly.

"Who was?" Mr. Trent raised an eyebrow in surprise. This was a new one.

"I had a horrible dream." Rupert told him.

"What else is new?" Mr. Trent sighed. "Do tell, what was this one about?"

Rupert gulped. "A girl...She was...running away from a wolf." he shook his head. "she made it to this big tree....but she couldn't get any higher than the first branch...I just knew she was going to faint, fall right off, and that the wolf was going to get her...it was horrible."

"Why do you keep your hand at your side like that?" Mr. Trent asked, noticing Rupert's curled fingers next to the right side of his pant's pockets, as if he expected something to be there. Something he could grab a hold of.

"I don't know." Rupert told him. "I keep waking up like that."

"I don't care what that doctor says." Mr. Trent said, half-jokingly. "We need to give you less pain killers."

"I'm sorry to be such a bother." Rupert said.

"Don't worry about it, you've been a very agreeable guest." Mr. Trent laughed. "I got word from my sister, you know the one who visited here last month. My little nieces apparently talk about you constantly."

Rupert chuckled a little at that. He liked Mr. Trent's little nieces his favorite was the middle girl, who was about seven or eight. She reminded him of someone but he wasn't sure who.

Twilight, at Esmara's garden, Edmund went looking for his sisters. He was supposed to call them in for supper. "Susan! Lucy!" He called out, with his hands cupped around his mouth to make the sound travel farther. No answer. "Lucy! Susan!" He took another step, not watching where he was going, right into the middle of a ring of mushrooms.

Suddenly Edmund heard a horrified gasp and felt two sets of arms yank him out of there as quickly as they could. They pulled so hard that all three of them, Edmund, Susan, and Lucy landed on the ground piled on top of one another.

"Edmund!" Susan scolded, getting up and brushing the grass off of her skirt. "Never, never, step in a fairy ring!"

"I know..." Thoughts of the horrible stories of what happened to those who ignored the fairy rule of staying out of the fairy rings, flooded through his mind and he cursed himself for being so stupid. "I was careless." He sat up and looked around. He'd never been so thankful to be on ordinary grass with his sisters in his life.

"They could have captured you!" Susan whispered sharply, reaching out and slapping her brother upside the head.

"Ow!" Edmund moaned, rubbing his head.

"You do know what to do if the fairies capture you, right?" Lucy asked him. She wanted to be sure her brother would be safe if this happened again.

"Well..." Edmund wasn't sure.

"Don't eat or drink anything they give you." Lucy warned him, clinging on to his arm. "or you could be there forever."

"Don't eat or drink." 'Edmund noted. "got it."

"Now why were you hollering for us?" Susan asked crossly. "you frightened Rosie and her gnome-in-waiting away."

"It's time for supper." Edmund told his sisters.

They headed back up and out of the garden.

After supper, Susan was helping Helen with the dishes when the phone rang and Mr. Pevensie went to pick it up.

"Hello?" Mr. Pevensie said. His eyebrows went so far up that Lucy thought they might fly off is face. "You did what? Why? No, no, they're not...but...well I can't see why...alright then. Thank you good-bye." Mr. Pevensie hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" Helen asked her husband, handing a plate and a dish towel to Susan, "You can dry."

"That was Mr. Preston, Marjorie's father." Mr. Pevensie told them. "He had your photographs tested, and is now convinced that they are genuine."

Lucy's eyes widened and she tightened her grip on the table she was sitting at. Susan gulped and prayed that they didn't...

"Mr. Preston had a few copies made." Mr. Pevensie added.

...They did.

"He hadn't any right to do that." Susan fumed. "Those were ours. He ought to have asked us first."

"Anyway," Mr. Pevensie ignored that comment. "He's sent the copies to Colin Lee Marcus."

crash. Susan had dropped her plate on the floor. It shattered into a million pieces. No amount of glue would ever make it a whole plate again. But she didn't worry about the plate now, She barely noticed Edmund getting the broom and dust pan to sweep it up with. All she could think of was Colin Lee Marcus and how he'd react when he saw the photographs.

"Be careful, Su." Edmund told her, cleaning up all the sharp china bits as he spoke.

"Colin Lee Marcus, where I have heard that name before?" Lucy wondered aloud.

"Oh, Lu, don't you remember?" Susan asked. "He's a famous writer. He wrote a popular book on fairies years ago."

"That's right!" Lucy recalled, suddenly remembering seeing a book entitled, "In the realm" by Colin Lee Marcus on Peter's desk that night when she'd found all the fairy drawings. She wondered if she ought to sneak back in there and have a look at the book but knew it wasn't a good idea. Unlike the drawings that weren't in plain sight in the room, the book had been right out on the desk. If she moved it and Mum happened to peer into the room and happened to notice, she would be in big trouble.

"What do you think Mr. Lee Marcus will do?" Edmund whispered to Susan as the three of them went up to bed for the night.

"I don't know." Susan looked very worried. "But he wont know where the garden is, will he?"

Edmund shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"I think we ought to bring more cake with us next time we go to see the fairies." Lucy sighed. "To say we're sorry for exposing them like that."

"You didn't mean it, Lu." Edmund said kindly. "You and Su were only trying to do something nice for Mum and dad."

"Do you think it'll turn out alright in the end, Ed?" Susan asked.

"I hope so." Edmund said. "I really hope so."

"Edmund?" Lucy said.

"Yes?"

"I'm really glad the fairies didn't take you away." Lucy hugged him.

The next morning, Lucy went to see the fairies by herself, knowing Susan would probably join her later if she wanted to. She made sure to sneak some cake from the kitchen into her pocket before setting off. She also took her school slate and some chalk with her. She thought she might like to practice drawing the fairies herself. But not on something permanent that could be found and questioned later, only one something that could be cleaned off whenever she needed it to be.

She sat quietly, watching ten fairies and six gnomes play together with a tiny acorn. Lucy groaned looking down at the drawing she'd made on the slate. It was horrible. She wished she could draw like Peter and Susan. With a heavy sigh, she wiped the slate clean.

Two of the fairies suddenly stopped playing and flew over to her.

"Hullo." Lucy said to them.

The two of them lifted the chalk and motioned for Lucy to take it.

"Do you want me to write something?" Lucy asked.

She thought one of the fairies nodded at her, so she held the chalk and added, "What should I write?"

The fairies didn't seem to want her to write anything, they seemed intent only on guiding her hand, it took four fairies to do this. To spell out something on her slate. They were trying to tell her something.

With great strain, they managed to push Lucy's hand to write the letter R. Then taking a deep breath, worked on a U. When they had finally finished, Lucy noticed that the fairies had spelled out a name. "Rupert".

Who's Rupert? Lucy thought to herself. The fairies were looking at her as if expecting her to understand what they meant. Maybe "Rupert" meant something in Fairy talk?

"Hey, Lucy!" Edmund came running, accidentally frightening away the fairies before he could get close.

"What's going on?" Lucy asked.

"Mum wanted me to come get you, I don't know why, she was crying...she seemed really upset." Edmund stopped and looked down at the slate, "Have a bit of a crush on a boy named Rupert, do you?"

Lucy shook her head. "I didn't write this." she told him. "The fairies did."

"Why would the fairies write 'Rupert' on your slate?" Edmund asked.

"You're guess is as good as mine." Lucy shrugged, packing up her things. "So what's wrong with Mum?"

"I don't know." Edmund said. "She wants us all together, to tell us something."

"Do you think it's something about Colin Lee Marcus?" Lucy asked him.

Edmund shook his head. "No, she's much too upset for it to be that."

When they arrived home, Their mother had them all sit down on the couch. "I've gotten some..." She stopped, trying to fight the urge to cry again. "news, about your brother...."

Edmund, Lucy, and Susan all held hands. All hoping she wouldn't say what they thought she was about to say.

"He's..." A few tears escaped. "...dead."

"No!" Lucy cried.

"How...when..." Edmund's mouth trembled as he spoke and he couldn't get out a full sentence.

Susan was silent with quiet tears rolling down her face.

Mrs. Pevensie was crying so hard now that Mr. Pevensie had to take over explaining the matter to the children. "They found a boy's body under the wreck....Peter is the only boy in that age group not accounted for."

A week later, there was a funeral. Standing with the others dressed head-to-toe in black, Lucy had the strange feeling that this funeral was not for her brother, but for someone else. She still thought Peter was going to come home. She could tell her self over and over, "Peter is dead." but she couldn't make herself believe it.

Susan and Edmund each put a rose on the top of his coffin before turning to leave with their parents.

Lucy lifted up her long black dress and tip-toed over to the coffin after everyone had placed their flowers and left. She had a rose of her own to put on the coffin and told her parents she wanted to do it by herself. Looking both ways, to be sure no one was watching, Lucy lifted the coffin lid, causing most of the flowers to fall to the ground. They'd all said she couldn't see him because he was messed up beyond any recognition. But she had to see him. She had to see his dead body with her own eyes before she could believe he was really gone.

In the coffin there was indeed a boy about Peter's age, his hair was blonde like Peter's. His face was bruised, burned, and scarred so much that Lucy couldn't tell for sure if it was Peter's face or not. But she noticed right above his slightly burned, left brow, there was no light coma shaped scar. Rather it was the only bit of unruined smooth skin on the boy's face. Peter had a light coma-shaped scar there from his fight with the white witch. It was very mild because it had healed well and if you weren't looking for it, you wouldn't notice it. However, if you were looking for it and were standing close enough, you simply couldn't miss it. Lucy knew the truth now, This wasn't Peter.

AN: Please review! I love getting reviews!