this au is amazing, oh my god. i am far too thrilled with the idea of the pevensies as juvenile delinquents. far, far too thrilled. also, did you see the new merin OH MY GOD THE SLASH. whole new levels. WHOLE NEW LEVELS.
peter hangs around with a rough crowd, but susan doesn't realize how rough until his nights start getting later and later. then one night she's woken up by peter's hand over her mouth, edmund behind him in jeans and a cross-country sweatshirt, his backpack slung over his shoulder.
"get up, get dressed, grab a bag," peter whispers. "hurry."
"what's going on?" susan demands, swinging her legs out of bed. "peter. what have you done?"
there's black greasepaint on his face and his hands are shaking slightly. he's favoring one leg when he crosses the room to wake lucy. "ed, start packing for her," he orders over his shoulder.
"peter, what have you done?" susan insists, but she gets dressed anyway, starts throwing clothes into a dufflebag.
"get all the jewelry i gave you," peter says as lucy wakes up, says, "peter, what's --"
"it's real," he adds.
"get away from my clothes, edmund," lucy adds, and peter repeats his orders to her.
"stay here," he says. "i'll be back." and slips out of the room.
susan doesn't want to know where peter learned what he did, but they take their parents' car until the edge of town, then he dumps that and swaps out the plates from a pair of cars at a rest stop before hotwiring one of them. they switch cars again sometime around six in the morning, and then edmund finally makes them pull over at an ihop. mostly because he and susan are both positive that peter's going to accidentally drive them under a sixteen-wheeler; he's been drooping at the wheel for the past seven hours.
in the morning light she sees blood on his hands.
"what have you done?" she says again, and peter says unsteadily, "just get me some coffee, i'll be fine."
edmund grabs his shoulders. "how deep are you in it, pete?" he demands. "the cops --"
"not the cops," peter says. "but dino might have -- possibly -- ripped off the wrong people. and --"
"and the bastard set you up to take the fall," edmund says, turning away. "you couldn't have joined the marching band, pete?"
"you've been hanging around with dino falcone?" susan demands. "oh, for the love of god, peter," she says. and then --
"whose blood is that?" lucy asks warily, wrapping her arms around herself. she looks small in her cheerleading sweatshirt.
"i probably should have said something about not bringing clothes that have our names on them," peter says, prevaricating. "look, let's just go get something to eat, we're, like, five hundred miles away. i'm sure we're fine."
but he looks over his shoulder when they go in.
susan insists on taking the wheel when they leave, and peter falls asleep in the passenger seat. edmund starts reading machiavelli again in the backseat, lucy's head on his shoulder.
- -
that night they get a motel room -- susan pays with the cash peter hands her -- and she crawls into bed with peter after she's showered. edmund, watching lucy flip through channels on the tv, raises his eyebrows at that, but doesn't say anything.
"you're an idiot," susan whispers against peter's shoulder. "but you know we'd follow you anywhere."
"i don't want you to get hurt because of me," he replies, wrapping an arm around her. she kisses his mouth.
"i'm sorry," he says. "i shouldn't have --"
"dino would have come after us to get to you," susan says. "he watches too much tv."
"his dad's mobbed up, su, you know that."
"i can't believe you were stupid enough to get involved with --"
"yeah, neither can i," edmund calls from the other bed. "what the fuck were you thinking, pete?"
no subject
peter hangs around with a rough crowd, but susan doesn't realize how rough until his nights start getting later and later. then one night she's woken up by peter's hand over her mouth, edmund behind him in jeans and a cross-country sweatshirt, his backpack slung over his shoulder.
"get up, get dressed, grab a bag," peter whispers. "hurry."
"what's going on?" susan demands, swinging her legs out of bed. "peter. what have you done?"
there's black greasepaint on his face and his hands are shaking slightly. he's favoring one leg when he crosses the room to wake lucy. "ed, start packing for her," he orders over his shoulder.
"peter, what have you done?" susan insists, but she gets dressed anyway, starts throwing clothes into a dufflebag.
"get all the jewelry i gave you," peter says as lucy wakes up, says, "peter, what's --"
"it's real," he adds.
"get away from my clothes, edmund," lucy adds, and peter repeats his orders to her.
"stay here," he says. "i'll be back." and slips out of the room.
susan doesn't want to know where peter learned what he did, but they take their parents' car until the edge of town, then he dumps that and swaps out the plates from a pair of cars at a rest stop before hotwiring one of them. they switch cars again sometime around six in the morning, and then edmund finally makes them pull over at an ihop. mostly because he and susan are both positive that peter's going to accidentally drive them under a sixteen-wheeler; he's been drooping at the wheel for the past seven hours.
in the morning light she sees blood on his hands.
"what have you done?" she says again, and peter says unsteadily, "just get me some coffee, i'll be fine."
edmund grabs his shoulders. "how deep are you in it, pete?" he demands. "the cops --"
"not the cops," peter says. "but dino might have -- possibly -- ripped off the wrong people. and --"
"and the bastard set you up to take the fall," edmund says, turning away. "you couldn't have joined the marching band, pete?"
"you've been hanging around with dino falcone?" susan demands. "oh, for the love of god, peter," she says. and then --
"whose blood is that?" lucy asks warily, wrapping her arms around herself. she looks small in her cheerleading sweatshirt.
"i probably should have said something about not bringing clothes that have our names on them," peter says, prevaricating. "look, let's just go get something to eat, we're, like, five hundred miles away. i'm sure we're fine."
but he looks over his shoulder when they go in.
susan insists on taking the wheel when they leave, and peter falls asleep in the passenger seat. edmund starts reading machiavelli again in the backseat, lucy's head on his shoulder.
-
-
that night they get a motel room -- susan pays with the cash peter hands her -- and she crawls into bed with peter after she's showered. edmund, watching lucy flip through channels on the tv, raises his eyebrows at that, but doesn't say anything.
"you're an idiot," susan whispers against peter's shoulder. "but you know we'd follow you anywhere."
"i don't want you to get hurt because of me," he replies, wrapping an arm around her. she kisses his mouth.
"i'm sorry," he says. "i shouldn't have --"
"dino would have come after us to get to you," susan says. "he watches too much tv."
"his dad's mobbed up, su, you know that."
"i can't believe you were stupid enough to get involved with --"
"yeah, neither can i," edmund calls from the other bed. "what the fuck were you thinking, pete?"