You're not alone

A vision?

"How long does it usually take to get out of Narnia?" Edmund asked Philip as they continued through the woods the next morning.
"Me and King Peter did it in around five days I think." The horse replied.
"Do you reckon we could do that?" Susan asked from where she sat on her own horse.
"I don't see why not." Philip said, nodding his head a little.
"We will." Edmund said suddenly. "We have to."
"Once we get out of Narnia it's not that far to the garden." Philip explained.
"Good." Edmund mumbled, staring ahead of him as they all fell silent.
No matter what happened he would make it back, with the knife and then, they would save Peter.

☆☆☆

Lucy sighed a little as she headed up to Peter's room midday that day, a plate in her hand and a cup in her other.
She wasn't sure if Peter would actually eat, but she could atleast try.
Reaching the door she pushed it open, to see Peter sat up in bed with a book in his hand, frowning over the page.
From the way his eyes were moving it was clear that he was reading the same part over and over again, obviously unable to concentrate.
Sighing a little Lucy closed the door and walked over, placing the plate and cup on the bedside table. "You know there's no point in reading if you can't concentrate." She said softly, a small, soft smile on her face.
Peter looked up at her and shrugged. "It's the only way to distract me from the-" He stopped dead, realisation appearing on his face.
Lucy frowned. "Distract you from what?" She asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Peter swallowed thickly. "Nothing." He said quickly, closing the book and placing it on the bed beside him.
Lucy was starting to get concerned now. "Distract you from what?" She repeated firmly.
Peter stared at her, eventually realising that she wasn't going to leave him alone until he told her the truth. So he sighed a little and looked away from her. "Distract me from the pain." Hs whispered.
Lucy's eyes went wide in alarm. "What pain!?" She asked quickly.
Peter looked back at her, biting his lip gently. "Everything just aches." He muttered. "Even moving hurts."
Lucy stared at him, fear and worry in her bright blue eyes. Slowly she pulled herself together, taking a deep breath. "You're - You're gonna be fine." She said hesitantly. "Just stay in bed, try not to move alot, and you'll be alright."
Peter couldn't help but give her a smile as she said this, but it was a weak one, lips barely even curling, but Lucy saw, and managed a small smile back.
"I brought you some lunch." She said after a moment of silence.
Peter's stomach flipped at the thought of food, causing him to go, in Lucy's eyes, a rather nasty green colour.
"Pete?" She asked worridly.
Peter took a deep breath. "I'm not hungry at the moment Lu." He whispered.
Lucy sighed. "Will you be sick if you eat anything?" She asked hesitantly.
Peter stared at her for a moment before nodding. "Probably." He choked. "I just can't seem to keep anything down."
"What about something like soup?" Lucy suggested.
Peter thought for a moment, the thought of soup was no where near as bad as the thought of eating the sandwich on the plate beside him, so he slowly nodded. "That might be alright." He said.
Lucy forced a smile. "I'll go down to the kitchens and make you some myself." She said firmly, standing.
Peter smiled. "Thank you." He murmered.
Lucy smiled back at him before she hesitantly left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Peter sighed to himself before laying down, wincing slightly as he moved.
He lay there for a while, just staring at the ceiling, before he allowed his eyes to slowly slip shut.
The second they were closed, an image appeared in his mind, causing him to frown.
Suddenly he was unaware of anything around him, and was only concentrating on the image he could see.
It was Edmund, walking through a wood. But what had Peter concerned, was that he had tears slowly rolling down his cheeks, a look of fear on his face.
Peter lay there as the image changed, to perhaps his worst nightmare...
It was Edmund again, but this time he was laying on the stone table, eyes wide, mouth open.
He had a large wound on his chest, going straight through his heart, and blood pooled below him, soaking his clothes.
Peter's eyes snapped open as he gasped, sitting bolt upright in bed despite the pain it caused him.
He sat there, gasping for air that didn't seem to want to come. What had he just seen? Why had he seen it?
He wanted to tell himself that it had just been a dream, but he knew he hadn't even been asleep.
Then why had he seen that?
As he sat there gasping he tried his hardest to come up with a reasonable explanation, and soon came to the fact that he'd dreamt about that happening so many times that maybe he had just been remembering one of those dreams?
After almost five minutes Peter's breathing returned to normal and he collapsed back onto the bed, eyes wide as he stared at the ceiling, the image refusing to disappear.
And it just got worse when he closed his eyes again, seeing the image way too vividly for his liking.
He was about to open his eyes again when someone else appeared in the image, and he was shocked to see that it was himself, staring at his brother.
The image was too vivid for Peter to handle, the blood covering his brother making him feel sick, the tears rolling down his own cheeks making him panick.
The last thing he saw of the image before it faded and he blacked out, was a dagger, sharp and stained red... held tightly in Edmund's hand.

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