Susan jerks awake, gasping as she glances at her clock. It's 6 in the morning, exactly two hours before her clock was suppose to go off. She wonders what startled her to wake so early, when she hears it. She hears smashing and screaming, coming from downstairs.
Pushing back her covers, she gets up quickly, limbs flailing as she bolts for the door. Wrenching it open, she doesn't bother to close it as she hurries down the stairs. She almost trips in her speed, but she finds the source of the yelling coming from the kitchen.
Walking now, afraid of what is happening in there, she sees Lucy standing in the doorway of the kitchen, hands clasped tightly together as tears stream down her face. She bends down to give Lucy a hug, who in turn clutches her older sister tightly around the neck.
"They found out." Lucy whispers, her voice quiet and hoarse from crying. Susan gasps, knowing exactly what her baby sister is talking about. She squeezes Lucy tightly, then lets go, as she turns to walk into the kitchen.
The scene before her is madness.
There are chairs flipped over, and broken plates litter the floor. Her mother is on the ground, holding her bleeding hand while crying hysterically.
Her father is yelling, face red with anger, veins bulging from his forehead. He raises his hand as if to strike, then breathes deeply, letting the clenched fist rest by his hip.
Peter's eye is swollen, already turning blue. He is yelling back at their father as he shields Edmund, who is standing behind him, fear present in his eyes.
Edmund's nose is bleeding, the blood leaking onto his clothes and the floor. He is crying, something he never does, as he clutches Peter arms, restraining him from hitting their father.
Everything was so loud, and confusing. She couldn't figure out any of the words being said, the yells and the cries far too loud. Glancing behind her at Lucy, whose eyes looked desperate for her sister to fix this. Turning around to face the mess, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.
"SHUT UP!" She yells, as loud and as shrill as possible. She waits a moment, waits for the silence, then opens her eyes.
Everyone is starring at her in shock, as Susan is hardly the person to lose her cool in a stressful situation. She also hardly yells, especially something as disrespectful as a 'shut up' towards her parents.
Taking another deep breath, she glances at Edmund, and asks, "What happened?"
Everyone begins talking again, everyone but Edmund. Grabbing a plate from the counter, she throws it to the floor, satisfied when the sound makes everyone stop.
"HEY!", she yells, eyes glittering as fury takes over, "Edmund, what happened?" She asks again, her shoulders rising and falling.
"They found out." Is all Edmund's says, all he can say, as his voice is momentarily damaged from crying. He coughs as some of the blood from his nose ventures into his mouth.
"Edmund, who hit you?" She asks, hoping she can remain calm.
Mr. Pevensie couldn't have been quick enough even if he had a few minute warning, as he dropped to the ground. The plate Susan had thrown at his head had hit him perfectly in the forehead, her aim amazingly precise from all her years of archery.
Everyone starred at Susan, shocked once again. Mr. Pevensie held a hand to his bleeding forehead, trying to avoid having blood get in his eyes.
Susan proceeds to walk through the debris, not even wincing as glass cut into her feet. Standing before her father, who is shrinking away from his angry daughter, she bends down before him and grasps him by the collar.
"Peter, did father also hit you?" She asks, her eyes locked with her father.
"How dare you." She whispers, anger dripping from her voice like acid. "You bastard, how dare you."
Her father winces, the poison of her words burning his heart as tears leak from the corners of his eyes.
He stumbles with his words, trying to chock out an apology, but finds he can't, not while Susan eyes are glaring with hatred towards him. She slaps him, hard across the face, as she gets up and walks towards her brothers.
Her mother begins to speak, but is quickly silenced as Susan throws another plate, purposely missing her mother by mere inches.
She stands before her parents, and before her brothers, shielding them.
"What happened?" She now asks her mother, her voice calm and gentle, not at all fitting with the way she holds herself.
"I found them this morning," her mother begins to say, trying to hold back her sobs, "they were cuddling, together, in Peter's bed."
"Cuddling, okay. What's wrong with that?" She asks, placing her hands on her waist, cocking her hip out to the side.
"It's an abomination!" is what her father would've shouted, had Susan not thrown another plate at him through mid sentence.
"Please, mum, continue." She says, returning to her previous stance.
"There is nothing wrong with cuddling, but cuddling with…certain people, that's a, that's a whole different story." Her mother stutters, now very afraid of her daughter's wrath.
"I love stories Mum, so please, do tell this one." Susan's voice is challenging, daring her mother to speak her condemning words.
"It's sinful and disgusting." Is all her mother says, in a voice so quiet that they almost hadn't heard it.
She turns and looks behind her, her eyes meeting Peter's, then Edmund's. She sighs, hanging her head, as a tear escapes from her eye.
"I don't find it so sinful and disgusting," she begins, as more tears leak from her eyes, "actually, I find it very beautiful and inspiring. I hope that someday, I can have a love so pure and true as theirs."
Peter hugs his sister from behind, kissing her on the cheek, a whispered 'thank you' against her ear. Edmund is crying again, as Lucy runs from the hallway and envelopes him in a tight hug.
The four Pevensies held each other, standing strong together. The Pevensies were nothing unless all four stood together, Susan realized.
"What happens now?" Susan asks, turning her attention to both her mother and father.
"I want them out of the house." Her dad says, looking at his wife, who nods her in agreement.
"Alright then, come on gang, let's get packing." She says, ushering her siblings out the kitchen, smiling at them in reassurance.
She waits till they're up the stairs, before she turns back into the kitchen, standing once again in front of her parents.
"What do you mean, "let's get packing"?" Her mother asks, although she worries that she already knows the answer to that question.
"We Pevensies stay together, and nothing will break us apart. Lucy and I don't care what the boys do behind close doors, and neither should you. You are our parents, you should be ashamed of yourselves." She said, hoping to knock some sort of sense into them, hoping her words would have more impact than shattered plates.
But they didn't, as her parents stare heartbroken, but firm, at her.
She sighs, walking out of the room, going up the stairs into her bedroom. Smiling at Lucy who is pulling their suitcases out from under the bed, she sits in front of her desk, pulling out a few sheets of paper.
She grabs a pen, ponders for a moment, then begins to write.
Dear Professor Kirke, I have a favor to ask of you…
PS. Susan kicks ass