Author's Note: So this is one of my better ideas, and I hope you like it too! :)

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

"You have an exam tomorrow, don't forget!" Professor Bones called to his students as they left his classroom. Peter smiled almost gratefully. After a long day of classes, he was ready to go home. Peter put his notebook in his satchel and got up from his seat; his hand had just barely hit the doorknob before the professor called him back.

"Peter my boy!" the old man called to him, his cheery voice floating over to Peter. He stopped short, turning around rather reluctantly.

"Yes, professor?" he asked politely, despite his longing to leave; Peter had had a rather long day and he wanted to be home to his family by supper. He could just picture Lucy's face light up once he walked through the door. Peter smiled at up at the thought of his younger sister. Right when he returned from the university, he would be greeted by Lucy with a giant hug. That was something that always seemed to lighten his day just a bit more.

"Peter, sit," Professor Bones said, beckoning to the seat next to his desk. Peter reluctantly sat down. The professor opened his mouth to speak. Peter cringed inwardly. Hopefully, he hadn't gotten a bad mark on a test or gotten in trouble. That's one thing all the students loved (and hated) about Professor Bones; he was blunt. "How would you like to go the hospital with me tomorrow?" The professor asked. Peter's eyes seemed to pop from his head as he processed what was going on. He knew that he would have a substitute for this Anatomy class tomorrow, but the professor never said where he was going or what he was doing. This was the biggest opportunity Peter had received since he's been back in England.

"That would be fantastic!" Peter smiled, his face flushing slightly because of his outburst. Going to the hospital with the Professor meant leaving the university and attending the local hospital, inspecting patients and giving them exams. The professor also happened to be a retired doctor at the hospital. Peter felt his heart skip a beat. The professor only would chose 'only those who were worthy' to attend the hospital with him.

"Be ready at seven in the morning, good chap," The professor clapped him on the back. "Meet me in the main office, good night, Mr. Pevensie," The professor replied, shooing Peter out of his classroom. A ghost of a smile crossed Peter's face as he headed out the door…

OOO

Peter Pevensie ran a hand through his golden hair and waited for the cars to pass. He tapped his foot irritably and impatiently, dying to get home to his good book that he had reluctantly left at home. The air was calm and soundless; Peter sighed and clicked his tongue anxiously. As young as he was, he always wanted to have a future in the field of medicine, as he told Caspian.

The thought of Narnia made Peter feel like he was being stabbed in the heart. He longed for his home. He longed to be a king again rather than being stuck in England, being a nobody. He wanted to fight wars, wanted to be a leader. He didn't want this life. The only good thing about England that he was studying to be a doctor; he couldn't wait.

His blue eyes seemed to sparkle as the moonlight reflected in them. It was nighttime, and Peter was walking back to his home. He was exceptionally nervous because he had an exam the next morning, and the train was delayed. The only light there was, was that of the moon. Peter trudged home, feeling rather sorry for himself. It had been a year since he had been in Narnia, and he still couldn't get over the fact that he would never go there again. How could Aslan do that? Peter sighed again and breathed into his hands, trying to warm them. Ice had already begun to form over the pavement, frosting it gently. Peter knew he should be careful, otherwise he would slip. Peter smiled in satisfaction as he saw the alley that would be the shortcut to his home. He slipped quietly through the alley, feeling self-conscious. Peter thought he felt someone's eyes on him, but he paid no attention. He knew how to take care of himself.

As he made his way down the alley, he came to the road that went directly to his home. Peter smiled, but time seemed to come to a stand still as a car swerved sharply and overturned many times, as if it was rolling down a hill, turning over and over and finally crashed right into the tree in front of his home. An ungodly shriek pierced the tranquil night, shattering the serenity in an instant. The loud noises reverberated throughout the small neighborhood, and the overturned car was in front of his house. Peter stood there, shocked. He saw most of his neighbors looking out their windows or coming to stand outside. Peter was standing there, his mouth open in shock at what he had just witnessed, and instantly, his feet were reacting faster than the rest of him.

On instinct, Peter ran over to the car, looking for survivors. Glass was scattered everywhere, shimmering slightly in the pale moonlight, and the headlights were dimly on, flickering and soon they began to die, as if even the headlights thought all hope was lost. They were flickering, and soon, they too went out. Peter opened the car door to see the bodies. There was a young man in the driver's seat, his face distorted and smashed into the windshield. Peter also caught sight of a girl who was lying in the car as well. She too was pretty beat up, having scratches all over her face. Peter looked cautiously at the two before agilely maneuvering his way inside the car and felt for the man's pulse. He was dead. Peter checked the girl's pulse. It was faint and slowing down. She only had a little longer to live. Carefully, Peter dragged the girl from the wreckage. But just as he was going to give her another tug, he saw that she was stuck- her legs were caught in the wreckage. Peter gently gave her another tug and managed to pull her out safely, feeling rather proud of himself. With gritted teeth, he laid the girl down on the pavement, studying her. Blood seemed to spill everywhere from her. Her dark brown hair was matted with blood, and her clothes stained red. The whole time, Peter felt like he wasn't even moving, yet he was. He had saved the girl who couldn't be much older than himself. He felt like as if it was a dream, and Peter desperately wanted it to be, or he wanted to sleep. Peter looked up to see the paramedics come, and he knew someone had called them.

"You alright, son?" one asked him as the others carried the girl away. Peter strained his eyes at the girl, trying to make sure she was alright before he nodded.

"I saw the car just…" he gestured with his hands, not exactly sure how to explain such a situation. "I went into the car to get the girl, but the man…" he couldn't find the words at the moment. He was too shocked about what had happened. It felt like everything was a dream. maybe he would wake up to find no dent in their tree and no overturned car with blood forever staining their street as a sick reminder of this fateful night.

"Are you sure you're alright?" the man asked again, eyeing Peter. Peter looked down. His clothes were red, and there were some cuts on his arms.

"I'm fine," he said weakly, his voice was frail and he was tired, but Peter felt more alive than he had been since his rule in Narnia, his lovely land which he would never return to. His heart was pumping blood, and Peter felt like he could jump into battle at any moment. The paramedic just nodded slightly, eyeing Peter doubtfully before clapping him on the back and turning away.

"Peter!" Lucy's worried and soprano voice came from nearby, and the girl ran over to her brother, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. Once she pulled away, she looked him over. "What happened?" she asked, looking at him, confusion in her eyes.

"There was an accident," Peter mumbled to her. He saw the rest of his family make their way over to him, and he smiled gawkily at them. After fussing over their son, the Pevensies made their way back to their home. Peter sighed. Everyone was calling him a hero for saving the girl's life, but right now, he felt shocked. Maybe scared even. It was almost a nightmare. He was terrified. The sight he had seen was not a pretty one; there was a lot of blood involved (the blood smelled heavily of rust and teardrops) and he had acted on instinct. That was it. At least, that's what he thought it was…