Disclaimer: Yup, you guessed it. They aren't mine. I don't make any money from it. I just do it for the reviews and for the fun of it.

A/N: Again, I'm sorry that it's a very short chapter but I'm going away for a week and I wanted to get this one up before I went. Also, this chapter turned out waaaaaay more angsty than I had planned. I was planning to sort of skim over Eddy's near-death encounter (it's just too painful * sniff *) but instead I virtually wrote an Eddy-snuff fic. Anyway, if the main bulk of the chapter disturbs you in that it's quite morbid, feel free to just skim on to the end (I'm not saying that the end is any less morbid just that there'll be less for you to read lol) And also, do not fear!! Eddy is alive and well(ish). As always, please review

In the true spirit of Easter,(not) I have totally skipped the resurrection (sort of) of Aslan but for those of you who celebrate it, have a lovely Easter. For those who don't, then I hope you have a lovely next two weeks anyway. :)

There was an eerie silence on the battlefield as Susan and Lucy sprinted towards their brother, flinging their arms around him and holding him tight. The only sounds were the death rattles of enemy troops, their soft, gasping sobs as the three of them held each other and the quiet padding of Aslan's giant paws. Susan sat back, taking a deep shuddering breath as she did so. Suddenly, she glanced frantically around them then turned horrified eyes on Peter.

"Where's Edmund!?" Peter and Lucy both turned to her in fear, Peter's blue eyes going almost comically wide as he too began scanning the bodies on the field around them. Suddenly, he shoved Lucy unceremoniously to the ground and, clutching his shoulder where the Witch had stabbed him, he rose unsteadily to his feet.

"Come on!" He called anxiously to the girls as he headed off towards where he had last seen Edmund. He had broken her wand into a million pieces, Peter had never felt so proud and terrified at the same time. Susan and Lucy raced after him, lifting their dresses up over their knees to avoid tripping. When they reached the top of the hill, Peter flung his arm out to stop them going any further. Lucy turned and buried her face in Susan's billowing dress, tears coursing down her face. All over the field in front of them were bodies. Some were still alive but barely, others lay still, eyes wide with whatever emotion was last on their mind. Susan reached out and grabbed Peter's hand, they squeezed hard as the grief and horror of the sight washed over them, they both felt the tears on their face but neither bothered to wipe them away. Susan let out a few shaking gasps as if she were about to say something. They were in shock. Peter turned and bent slightly, retching into the still Spring air. Lucy continued to sob and tremble.

"Do you think this is what Dad sees?" Susan whispered tremulously. Peter's brain wouldn't focus, it was firing random thoughts out, random words which made no sense to him he was too far gone in emotions that were too old for even him to comprehend. Dad. War. Mum & Dad. Dad's at war. And we're here. We? Sisters. Brother.

Brother...? His brother! Edmund! Without a word, he ran, tripping down the steep hill and onto the field. Susan suddenly came to her senses and dragging Lucy along behind her, both of them still in tears, she flew down the slope after Peter.

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It came to him louder than all the other rasping breaths he could hear. It was higher in pitch, and punctuated by a slight thick cough. It was also less animal than all the others. He scanned the dead, and dying again and finally, he spotted him. Lying off from the others, prostrate on the grass with one arm flung out to his side, the other clutching his stomach weakly. "Ed." Breathed Peter.

The three of them dropped to their knees beside their brother, Susan sat behind him, ripping the helmet off him and taking his head gently into her lap and stroking the hair back from his sweaty forehead. His breath was coming in short rasps which sounded terribly painful and there was blood on him. A lot of blood. Lucy's face crumpled but she did not look away, instead she clutched one of his hands tightly in hers and kissed it over and over. Susan's tears overflowed and fell softly onto Edmund's still face.

Peter, sitting at his brother's feet sobbed sporadically and wiped his hands over his face; and then he did the only thing he could think to do to help Edmund. He reached over and unlaced the tight boots that he had forced Edmund's large feet into earlier that morning. Edmund had grumbled and pouted that he would rather wear no shoes at all but Peter had insisted and they had finally squeezed his feet into the tiny boots. Peter slipped them off now, recoiling at the bloody and swollen mass of Edmund's feet where the boots had rubbed his feet into blisters and open sores. The freedom did seem to be welcome though, because Edmund's face relaxed slightly. Peter smiled wetly.

"Oh!" Peter and Susan both jumped in shock as Lucy let put a high pitched scream of realisation. She released Edmund's hand and snatched a tiny red bottle from her pouch around her waist, her older siblings both sobbed in relief as they saw what it was. In their grief and misery, they had completely forgotten the cordial that Father Christmas had given Lucy. She glanced anxiously at them both, looking for their permission, and they both nodded and smiled eagerly. She grinned hopefully and leant over and released the stopper.

One, shining red droplet fell from the bottle and landed soundlessly in Edmund's mouth. They all watched desperately. Nothing happened. Edmund's breath continued to get slower and slower, and more shallow. Finally, it stopped all together.

Peter shut his eyes, silently screaming out in agony and grief. Lucy threw herself over Edmund chest and sobbed hysterically and Susan, too drained to do anything else, let the tears roll freely down her face and leant down silently and kissed Edmund's forehead. Then she moved her head back slightly and laid her forehead against his, reaching out and squeezing one of his pale hands so hard that she was in danger of breaking it. Her mouth opened, in a silent scream which then turned into deep agonised sobs. Her tears mingling with the sweat on Edmund's brow, soaking his dark hair and trailing down into his eyes.

The red droplet of cordial lay gleaming on Edmund's tongue. Lucy began stroking his face, his hair, his chest, anywhere she could reach. His throat. Peter watched her, he almost imagined he had seen Edmund's throat move, his Adam's apple bob slightly as if her were swallowing. He blinked back his tears and looked again, Lucy had laid her head next to Susan's on Edmund face and but she was not crying any more, there were no more tears in her. From his seat at their brother's feet, he was awarded the best view of him, particularly as their sisters had their faces buried in each other's hair. And he was sure he had seen his throat move. He watched, not daring to breathe. And suddenly, a miracle happened. Edmund's chest rose and fell ever so slightly but it had definitely moved. Peter trembled, he hardly dared to hope.

"Su?" Peter croaked quietly. "Susan!"

She glared up at him, her face and eyes red and bloodshot, "Yes?" She sighed shakily.

Peter bit his lip as elation spread through him. "He's breathing."