Slipped Away

By: SugarHighNutcase

First of all, I'd like to give out a little warning: I haven't read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe in four years. I saw the movie this past Friday (the 16th), so I'm really going to base my fic on the movie more than the book. I know there's got to be some differences, but I don't really know what they are, considering I haven't read LWW in years. This fic is from Peter's POV during the battle scene, with an alternate ending.

Secondly: Please, please read my little author's note in my bio. It's very important, especially to my regular readers. That being said, enjoy the fic!

Time seemed to stop. Peter yelled his brother's name as Edmund collapsed to the ground, a look of pain and shock in his eyes. His breaths were coming in short bursts, he was pale, and he was losing blood, fast. Peter ran to his fallen brother, and to the one who had stabbed him: the White Witch. Running towards her, Peter swung his sword at his enemies fighting around. Only one thought filled his mind: Edmund.

The White Witch had picked up Edmund's sword. She swung both Edmund's sword and her own at Peter with mastered skill, her eyes blazing with fury. She was calm as she stabbed at him, blocking his blows at the same time.

Peter, however, swung wildly, not fully thinking what he was doing, just fighting for his brother. He needed to hurt her; she had hurt Edmund, and now he would return the favor. He stabbed at her, a crazy, distraught look in his eye. Edmund was dying, Edmund was badly hurt, and Edmund needed help. The same thoughts running through Peter's head drove him to keep swinging his sword, not really paying attention, just needing revenge.

And then, the White Witch had disappeared underneath something big and furry. It was Aslan. Peter stared in confusion. Lucy and Susan had sent a message saying he was dead, hadn't they? Was his mind playing tricks on him? But no, it was Aslan. Peter nearly collapsed in exhaustion and relief. Susan and Lucy came running, and he opened his arms wide, embracing his two sisters. They were safe.

But then, "Where's Edmund?"

Peter's eyes widened as he remembered his hurt brother. Susan saw something in his eyes and understood. He took off, needing to get to Edmund, needing to know he was still alive, still hanging on. Susan ran after him, and Lucy, who by now had figured that something was wrong, followed.

Edmund was lying where he had fallen. He had lost a lot of blood by now, Peter assumed, and nearly all the color was gone from his face. Tears sprang into his eyes. His brother was dying, and once again, he blamed himself. Edmund's breaths were short and strained. His eyes were closed, his forehead sweaty. Peter couldn't bear to see him in this state.

Lucy reached into her pocket and pulled out a bottle, the same bottle Father Christmas had given her. It was supposed to heal anything, wasn't it? Susan and Peter looked on in anticipation as Lucy poured a drop of the bottle's contents into Edmund mouth.

The siblings waited with baited breath, waiting for something- anything- to happen, to let them know Edmund would be all right. Tears welled in Peter's eyes once again as the only change was Edmund's slowed breathing. His little brother was leaving them, leaving him. He should have been there to protect him like he'd promised, but he had failed.

Lucy let out a sob, and turned away. Susan's face dripped with tears as she looked down at her brother. Edmund's breaths were slowing even more. He was leaving them. Peter couldn't stand it. Please, no. Please. Don't leave us, Ed. We need you. We shouldn't have been so hard on you. I shouldn't have been so hard. I'm so sorry, Ed. I failed you. I was supposed to be looking after you, and I failed. I am so sorry.

And as Edmund's breathing faded away, Peter felt his heart breaking. Edmund's face was more peaceful now that the pain had left him. He was pale and cold, but he just seemed… happier somehow. Peter let the tears come, for he knew his brother was gone, and there was nothing that could be done for him.

Peter felt the guilt wash over him. Edmund had died fighting the Witch, stopping her from sneaking up and attacking Peter. Edmund died for him. After everything Peter had done to his brother, the mocking, ignoring, putting him down, everything. And yet, Edmund had selflessly given himself for Peter.

He closed his eyes, the tears falling from his eyes onto the soft grass. Edmund was gone, and Peter was to blame. I'm sorry, little brother, he told Ed silently. It was the best he could do. Ed might've forgiven him, but he could never forgive himself.

He had never gotten to tell Edmund how ashamed he was of his actions. He never even told Ed he loved him.

"I love you, Ed." Peter whispered it now, hoping he could hear, before he slipped away completely from their world. "I love you."