( it's empty in the valley of your heart )

[just]

( Edmund lets his crutches clatter to the ground without caring about the ruckus — only Susan is in the house with him, after all, and if she chooses to start a fight over it, he's ready for it. There's a restless buzzing under his skin that had always preceded battle in Narnia, the precursor of bloodshed and anger and the saccharine taste of Lucy's fireflower cordial.

Letting out a silent breath, Edmund leans back against the sofa, reveling in the quiet burn of the healing wound on his abdomen. He's thinking about the apple tree in the backyard, how its leaves have been burnished to a dusky gold. He's thinking about the sunset in Susan's hair, and how it isn't quite enough to erase the lines of weariness from her face. He's thinking about the awful casserole that Mrs. Minchen from down the street brought for their dinner.

Even looking at it had made him nauseous. )

Hungry, Susan? ( He hasn't called her Su in years, and he's not likely to start now. )

Comments

[practicality]

I'm so sorry. [ the words are pushed through her mouth so softly even she has difficulty hearing them. this is probably the first time the two of them clung at each other like this, as if they were the only ones left in the world and isn't it the truth, anyway? They're all gone - all the people who's ever mattered to them anyway and it isn't fair, no, not at all.

susan draws in a deep, shaky breath - the first step she takes for her to calm down, to dry the seemingly endless flow of tears pouring down her cheeks. she lets go of his shirt, but stays where she is - for now. ] What do we do now?

THE PRODIGAL SON RETURNS

[just]

( Edmund lets the silence breathe between them, letting it shroud the sharpest edges of his rage. It will be a long while before that anger fades — perhaps it never will. For now, muting it temporarily is all he can do. )

Let's leave. ( The words leave him in a rush, as jumbled as the thoughts that had prompted them. Now that he's broken his silence, he can't stop the torrent. ) We've only to sell the house; we'll let the solicitors tidy up the rest of our affairs. Sod my degree, sod your preening American friends, and sod this entire country — bloody hell, we've nothing to lose! ( He hasn't realised what he's doing, but he's gripping her wrist, so tightly that it must be uncomfortable. There's something frenetic and wild in his eyes; the kind of passion that he'd never let himself show before his world turned itself inside out. ) There's a world out there that we've never seen — let's go. You and I, two practical people who've forgotten what practicality is. Sod it all, by jove!

WELCOMES HIM WITH OPEN ARMS

[practicality]

Leave? [ she pulls back to look at his face, ignoring the pain brought by his hold on her wrist. the word echoes in her head, and it sounds so unfamiliar and foreign as it's something she hasn't considered before. leave? can they? should they? everything familiar to them is here, in his house, and to leave them all behind - would that not be betraying them, somehow? mum, dad, peter, lucy? practically it was sound advice, but isn't it too soon? ]

We can't just-- [ her eyes wander a bit, spotting places that bring so many memories they make her head swim and her heart ache. the hurt will fade - this she knows so well - but... ] --leave. [ the more she says it, the more it makes sense for them to do it. after all, why should they tie themselves to their painful past? besides, if they leave, no one says they can't ever return - if they want to. susan takes a deep breath, meets ed's eyes. ] Sod it all, you said? I think... I think you're right.