just the three of us.
Dated to the last week of March.
It'd been like this for a couple of days. Jill would work - actually work at the Psych Office, for all that it was practicum- and she'd train, and then... this. She'd sit on the sand, staring out at the ocean, her chin resting on her knee. She wondered why she made the choices she'd made, and what the future would be like. It was as if she'd gotten a large dose of introspection, her bare toes curling in the sand. They'd come so far - all of them, but she and Tim, she and Lionel- but she wondered what was going to happen with those things. With the friendships that had been built around her own fragility, something that she fully recognized now.
There was a reason they said that therapists usually needed therapy themselves.
She'd cut back on her training with the Titans. It was hard being around them. They were walking textbook cases, all of them - Jill included - but they were so wrapped in unneeded secrecy and denial that it drove her to frustrated distraction.
Then, there were her ribs.
---
He had come to expect to find her out here, more often than not. They didn't see each other every day, but they found their way to each other's company, much the way they always had. Today, he'd had that itch to see her, to hold her hand, to be with her, so he headed out around sunset, when she'd normally be done for the day. He trudged out down the beach, heading for the small figure curled up, knees tucked to her chest. He sat down beside her, silent, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle.
---
She looked over at him, barely turning her head. "Hi," she said quietly, and her lips curved into a smile. "How're you?" It was almost routine - he'd sit, she'd say Hi, how're you, and then... it sort of spiraled from there, but it was always the same in the beginning. Today, though, she uncurled to sit next to him, the breakers only a few feet from them as she leaned back on her hands looking up at the sky. "I've been thinking."
---
He smiled at the familiar, about to retort, when she unrolled her legs, turning away. He watched her softly, head tilted to the side. "Thinking?" He paused, eyes grazing her face. "About?" She had left it open ended, letting him push on; so on he pushed.
---
"Everything, really." She made a face, looking over at him. "Suppose it's that sort of day. Thinking about how I ended up here." She paused. "About my life, really. How things are. How they're different." She bit the inside of her lip. "You, and Xander, and the boys, and where I want to live and what I want to do with my life, and-"
She laughed quietly, shaking her head - and shifted to lean back on her elbows on the sand in the boneless way that teenagers have. For all that she acted like an adult, she still was younger then he was. "It's a very thought-ridden day."
---
He chuckled, rolling over to lean on his elbows, now nearly touching her, barely half an inch away. "Thought-ridden, mmm?" He shook his head, smiling over at her. "That's a lot to think about-- life, boys, work, this place..." He glanced away, eyes scanning the treeline. "It's a lot to think about." He looked back at her, squinting, almost. "You can talk to me about anything, Jill. You know that, right?"
---
"I know," She said without even thinking. She pressed her lips together, and looked over at him. "I... I feel like- I don't know. It's- I don't fit where I used too," she said, her brow knitting. "But then there's some things that feel like... home." The way her cheeks reddened made it painfully obvious what one of those 'things' was.
---
His brow furrowed as she talked, listening. "Well, we all grow up, and sometimes that means growing out of things." He paused, lips pursed. "We go through phases of our lives, and some things stay with us, like family and home, and some things change, like friends and where we live." He didn't clarify that home and where we live could be two different things, but she probably got his drift. He paused, glancing down at his hands for a moment and smiling softly. "We can't say what moment or person will change our lives, one way or the other."
---
She hesitated, and then sat up, leaning over him. Her braid slipped down over her shoulder, and she just moved - still careful, but she kissed him, half-balanced in the sand. There were all sorts of things she wasn't thinking about - like where she should put her hands so she wouldn't fall, or how much she should kiss him, or if she should say something, but she just did it, going with her gut.
---
He responded in kind, pushing up a bit to meet her lips. It was a little awkward, the position they were in, but he followed easily, the kiss soft and warm, a confirmation of what had just been said. He broke it off after a moment, his neck already complaining of the angle. He rolled his shoulder out, coming to sit up again by her side. He leaned forward, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose, smiling. "I'll be in a cast if I try and stay down there."
---
Oh, how she blushed. She wrinkled her nose, and then looked back at the sand, her cheeks burning as she was sitting up herself. "Right," She said, her lips still curved into a smile. "I..." She had to backtrack - from before she'd kissed him (why had she kissed him, besides him being Peter?) and then she cleared her throat. "It's- I think a lot of it is also that I've realised... I mean. I do love them all, but they're not- What they've come from, it's... it's a constant, vicious cycle that leads them-" She stopped. "... I'm not at work. Don't let me do that, alright? I'm not at work, they're not my cases, and we can just say that I've changed a lot, I think."
---
He chuckled, shaking his head. "They're different." He paused, eyebrows slightly raised. "You're different. You've grown, and changed, and maybe things aren't what they used to be." No more friends beating you up and breaking ribs. No more playing superhero with bruises and broken bones and-- "You can still like them, still be friends with them, even if the relationship has changed." He paused, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. "Do you think it's a change for the better?"
---
She bit her lip. "I don't know how much I can, though." She echoed his pose without even thinking. "They're- This thing that just devours them is-" It's virtually pointless.
But it wasn't. "... I know why they do it." She rested her forehead on her knees for a moment, before looking back over at him. "I feel like I owe it to them to not stop. You know that? Because I was there before-" And weirdly, that was a sticking point, and her eyes welled with- goodness, did she really feel like she should cry? "I was there before them," she said with a swallow. "I resent it. It was Tim and I, and then for so long - so long it was Tim and Bart and I. And now I'm pointless."
---
Peter's lips parted softly and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You're not pointless, Jill. I promise." He grit his teeth as he stared out at the ocean, rubbing her shoulder softly. He tried not to be mad, but then.... These so-called friends of hers made it awfully difficult. "So the relationship changes. So maybe you aren't their sparring opponent or their partner in heroics." He paused, pressing another kiss to her hair. "You're Jill. You don't need to keep up with all their antics. Just be yourself, and they'll love you all the same."
---
She pressed her lips in a line. "I don't know about that," she said before she corrected herself. "Not about being pointless- I mean, that just being myself is enough." Her brow knit. "For Tim, maybe. Probably. I don't know if some of them will..." she tried to find the right word. "Understand, I suppose, if I walk away from it." She stared out at the ocean. "I don't know, I feel almost like I'm... this is what I'm meant to do. Helping people this way instead of- Instead of fighting, unless that's the last option."
---
He pulled back to listen, staring at her softly. "If you're not good enough, then these people don't deserve you." His brow was furrowed. "A friend is there because of who the person is, not because of who the person is to THEM." He stared out at the ocean alongside her, then glanced back at her with a small smile. "It's the way things happened in Narnia, isn't it?" He paused, soft. "You had to fight."
---
She swallowed once. "I did. Here, if it was the same-" She licked her lips. "I would." She looked out at the ocean, not at him. "But I killed, Peter. I... I don't know if they have. I- it still makes me sick. The guilt of it is why I have so many issues." She paused. "Should I try and help people instead of hurting more?"
---
"Shhhh, stop," He soothed quietly, murmuring as she fumbled over the memories. He shook his head. "I'm sorry I reminded you of that." He paused. "You are, really, helping people, I promise. And what you did in Narnia was different." He thought back to the people he'd killed, the battles he'd fought and won. "Who you are on the battlefield is different." He glanced back out the ocean, squinting. "It just is."
---
"It's alright," she said quietly, swallowing. "I'm- I can talk about it. It's a considerable improvement." She licked her lips. "I know. Here-" She paused. "It's more what they do, anyway. Saving people from the things that go bump in the night. War is different then vigilantism, and here... this isn't war." She swallowed. "I don't think I can train for a day that may or may not come, keeping constantly ready. I guess what I do is more... fighting the good fight anyhow."
---
"You do fight the good fight, I promise. Vigilantism is difficult; it takes a certain person who wants to stay trained and ready at the drop of a hat." He shrugged. "You're helping people get on with their lives after all the mess is cleaned up. It's very important, I promise. It's a hard fight."
---
"I know, sweetheart." She didn't even think as the endearment just... slipped.
"I know I'm doing the right thing, it's just..." She swallowed. "I wonder how my life would be different if I hadn't done it. If it would be better or not." She bit the inside of her lip. "If the people who thought that it was the wrong thing for me were right."
---
His heart skipped at the pet name, a small smile on his face. He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think we can ever know something like that. But it isn't a time for regrets-- and you would have regretted NOT having the experience, that's for sure." He paused. "Caution and temperance are all well and good, but a little mischief and risk taking can lead to experiences we never dreamed of." All of his time in Narnia was the result of a game of hide and seek, and of Ed's foolishness; he would hardly call that a wise choice, but their lives were still changed forever.
---
"I don't regret it." That she knew. "Just- I don't know. It's a day for thinking, I suppose." She shook her head. "You know? It just... is one of those days." She paused, and looked over at him. "It's the same way I wonder about Narnia. If I hadn't been quite so... stupid... about things." She shrugged, and then looked at him pointedly. "I was," she said preemptively, just because if she knew him, he'd been about to protest. "I was twelve. Not a particularly smart age to start with."
---
"You weren't--" She cut him off, and he pressed his lips together into a small smile, eyes soft. "Fine, fine, twelve is as twelve does." He cocked his head to the side. "But that's how Narnia is." He shrugged. "I was only thirteen the first time we went to Narnia. And by the end of it, I was leading a battle with my younger brother, and then ended up High King." He grinned. "Adventures are just that-- adventures. There's no telling where we'll land; that's half the fun." He paused. "And your time in Narnia was just-- you had a rough go of it. The End of the World probably isn't pleasant anywhere."
---
She shrugged. "It... I've read- it apparently was right brilliant, after." Her brows knit. "I- I don't understand it, though. Apparently none of us cared. After." That - that was the thing that gave her that odd, pinched look she got every now and again.
---
He nodded, brow furrowed. "Susan talked about the books, but I haven't yet read them." He paused, letting out a tight breath. "I really should. And I mean to, I just--" He shook his head. "I don't know. The fact that I come from a story... It's hard to just jump in and start reading."
---
She opened her mouth and closed it. "Can I say-" She swallowed. "Don't-" She looked down in the sand. "Don't think less of me," she said quietly, unsure how else to say it. "Please. I- I understand if you do."
---
Peter glanced at her sharply, brow furrowed. "Think less of you?" His lips parted, thoughtful. "Is this--" He paused, eyes searching her face. "Is this about what was said? At the end, about Susan?" He remembered the conversation clearly-- Susan had told him what he'd said to her, and it stung, sharply. He knew it was true (she'd never lie to him), but he still wanted to see it for himself.
---
"I hadn't said it." Her brow knit. "I- when I came here, I hadn't said it. I... I suspect that I was... angry. Because-" Her lower lip quivered, but she didn't break at all. Just kept talking, low and even. "Because I hadn't processed what'd happened, just that... Scrubb and I had gone and just- we'd never actually been in a war, and she- Narnia was no longer a place for her." She pressed her lips together. "I wouldn't say it now. I wouldn't actually wish what happened - what she had to deal with - on anyone." She didn't want to look at him. Not with... "I didn't actually mean that, of all the things. I probably should have, but- I... I'm- I mess up so many times, Peter. So many. Your cousin fell off a cliff because of me."
---
"I don't even know what you said, Jill." He paused, eyes pleading. "Susan and I talked about it a little, but not much; I was still getting used to the idea that we're all from some series of novels. I don't know what you said, but I'm sure it's fine, I promise. And we can talk about it when I read it, okay?" He squeezed the hand on the knee closest to him, softly.
"If Eustace fell of a cliff, I nearly guarantee that it wasn't simply your fault." He paused, wry. "The boy was a right menace, sometimes."
---
"I- Do you not want to know, then?" She looked over at him, her teeth tightening on her lower lip.
"Aslan said it was my fault. That Eustace fell." Her eyes burned. "I- I was showing off. On the edge, and- and he tried to stop me from falling." She paused. "For a long time - for... for for years, Eustace has been my best friend. I- You have no idea how much I miss him, even though - yes. He's been a menace, but..." She swallowed hard.
---
He shook his head, brow furrowed. Aslan said it was my fault. He shook his head, blinking hard. "It's all right." He nodded, tilting his head to the side a bit. "I'm going to read the books. I need to, really, I've just been putting it off." He shook his head, smiling. "It'll be all right, really."
---
She didn't believe him. She bit her lip so hard that it was white, and shrugged her shoulders, staring out at the ocean. Did you know- Do you know-
She couldn't ask him. Didn't want to be the one who said We're all dead and you and Ed and Lucy left Susan alone and that's another reason she dislikes me so. So, for once, she didn't, and she looked over at him, and- and for all that it would solve nothing, she wished in a way that he'd just kiss her and they could forget this whole thing for a bit - but it wasn't his way.
"The sunset," she said, swallowing. "It's not usually this clear."
---
He moved even closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder again and pressing a kiss to her temple. "It's beautiful," He said, into her hair, clearly not looking out at the sunset to begin with. There was a lot to say, but it wasn't yet the time to say it; he needed to read their history, their stories, and think to himself first. So for now, there was just her, him, and a sunset.
It'd been like this for a couple of days. Jill would work - actually work at the Psych Office, for all that it was practicum- and she'd train, and then... this. She'd sit on the sand, staring out at the ocean, her chin resting on her knee. She wondered why she made the choices she'd made, and what the future would be like. It was as if she'd gotten a large dose of introspection, her bare toes curling in the sand. They'd come so far - all of them, but she and Tim, she and Lionel- but she wondered what was going to happen with those things. With the friendships that had been built around her own fragility, something that she fully recognized now.
There was a reason they said that therapists usually needed therapy themselves.
She'd cut back on her training with the Titans. It was hard being around them. They were walking textbook cases, all of them - Jill included - but they were so wrapped in unneeded secrecy and denial that it drove her to frustrated distraction.
Then, there were her ribs.
---
He had come to expect to find her out here, more often than not. They didn't see each other every day, but they found their way to each other's company, much the way they always had. Today, he'd had that itch to see her, to hold her hand, to be with her, so he headed out around sunset, when she'd normally be done for the day. He trudged out down the beach, heading for the small figure curled up, knees tucked to her chest. He sat down beside her, silent, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle.
---
She looked over at him, barely turning her head. "Hi," she said quietly, and her lips curved into a smile. "How're you?" It was almost routine - he'd sit, she'd say Hi, how're you, and then... it sort of spiraled from there, but it was always the same in the beginning. Today, though, she uncurled to sit next to him, the breakers only a few feet from them as she leaned back on her hands looking up at the sky. "I've been thinking."
---
He smiled at the familiar, about to retort, when she unrolled her legs, turning away. He watched her softly, head tilted to the side. "Thinking?" He paused, eyes grazing her face. "About?" She had left it open ended, letting him push on; so on he pushed.
---
"Everything, really." She made a face, looking over at him. "Suppose it's that sort of day. Thinking about how I ended up here." She paused. "About my life, really. How things are. How they're different." She bit the inside of her lip. "You, and Xander, and the boys, and where I want to live and what I want to do with my life, and-"
She laughed quietly, shaking her head - and shifted to lean back on her elbows on the sand in the boneless way that teenagers have. For all that she acted like an adult, she still was younger then he was. "It's a very thought-ridden day."
---
He chuckled, rolling over to lean on his elbows, now nearly touching her, barely half an inch away. "Thought-ridden, mmm?" He shook his head, smiling over at her. "That's a lot to think about-- life, boys, work, this place..." He glanced away, eyes scanning the treeline. "It's a lot to think about." He looked back at her, squinting, almost. "You can talk to me about anything, Jill. You know that, right?"
---
"I know," She said without even thinking. She pressed her lips together, and looked over at him. "I... I feel like- I don't know. It's- I don't fit where I used too," she said, her brow knitting. "But then there's some things that feel like... home." The way her cheeks reddened made it painfully obvious what one of those 'things' was.
---
His brow furrowed as she talked, listening. "Well, we all grow up, and sometimes that means growing out of things." He paused, lips pursed. "We go through phases of our lives, and some things stay with us, like family and home, and some things change, like friends and where we live." He didn't clarify that home and where we live could be two different things, but she probably got his drift. He paused, glancing down at his hands for a moment and smiling softly. "We can't say what moment or person will change our lives, one way or the other."
---
She hesitated, and then sat up, leaning over him. Her braid slipped down over her shoulder, and she just moved - still careful, but she kissed him, half-balanced in the sand. There were all sorts of things she wasn't thinking about - like where she should put her hands so she wouldn't fall, or how much she should kiss him, or if she should say something, but she just did it, going with her gut.
---
He responded in kind, pushing up a bit to meet her lips. It was a little awkward, the position they were in, but he followed easily, the kiss soft and warm, a confirmation of what had just been said. He broke it off after a moment, his neck already complaining of the angle. He rolled his shoulder out, coming to sit up again by her side. He leaned forward, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose, smiling. "I'll be in a cast if I try and stay down there."
---
Oh, how she blushed. She wrinkled her nose, and then looked back at the sand, her cheeks burning as she was sitting up herself. "Right," She said, her lips still curved into a smile. "I..." She had to backtrack - from before she'd kissed him (why had she kissed him, besides him being Peter?) and then she cleared her throat. "It's- I think a lot of it is also that I've realised... I mean. I do love them all, but they're not- What they've come from, it's... it's a constant, vicious cycle that leads them-" She stopped. "... I'm not at work. Don't let me do that, alright? I'm not at work, they're not my cases, and we can just say that I've changed a lot, I think."
---
He chuckled, shaking his head. "They're different." He paused, eyebrows slightly raised. "You're different. You've grown, and changed, and maybe things aren't what they used to be." No more friends beating you up and breaking ribs. No more playing superhero with bruises and broken bones and-- "You can still like them, still be friends with them, even if the relationship has changed." He paused, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. "Do you think it's a change for the better?"
---
She bit her lip. "I don't know how much I can, though." She echoed his pose without even thinking. "They're- This thing that just devours them is-" It's virtually pointless.
But it wasn't. "... I know why they do it." She rested her forehead on her knees for a moment, before looking back over at him. "I feel like I owe it to them to not stop. You know that? Because I was there before-" And weirdly, that was a sticking point, and her eyes welled with- goodness, did she really feel like she should cry? "I was there before them," she said with a swallow. "I resent it. It was Tim and I, and then for so long - so long it was Tim and Bart and I. And now I'm pointless."
---
Peter's lips parted softly and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You're not pointless, Jill. I promise." He grit his teeth as he stared out at the ocean, rubbing her shoulder softly. He tried not to be mad, but then.... These so-called friends of hers made it awfully difficult. "So the relationship changes. So maybe you aren't their sparring opponent or their partner in heroics." He paused, pressing another kiss to her hair. "You're Jill. You don't need to keep up with all their antics. Just be yourself, and they'll love you all the same."
---
She pressed her lips in a line. "I don't know about that," she said before she corrected herself. "Not about being pointless- I mean, that just being myself is enough." Her brow knit. "For Tim, maybe. Probably. I don't know if some of them will..." she tried to find the right word. "Understand, I suppose, if I walk away from it." She stared out at the ocean. "I don't know, I feel almost like I'm... this is what I'm meant to do. Helping people this way instead of- Instead of fighting, unless that's the last option."
---
He pulled back to listen, staring at her softly. "If you're not good enough, then these people don't deserve you." His brow was furrowed. "A friend is there because of who the person is, not because of who the person is to THEM." He stared out at the ocean alongside her, then glanced back at her with a small smile. "It's the way things happened in Narnia, isn't it?" He paused, soft. "You had to fight."
---
She swallowed once. "I did. Here, if it was the same-" She licked her lips. "I would." She looked out at the ocean, not at him. "But I killed, Peter. I... I don't know if they have. I- it still makes me sick. The guilt of it is why I have so many issues." She paused. "Should I try and help people instead of hurting more?"
---
"Shhhh, stop," He soothed quietly, murmuring as she fumbled over the memories. He shook his head. "I'm sorry I reminded you of that." He paused. "You are, really, helping people, I promise. And what you did in Narnia was different." He thought back to the people he'd killed, the battles he'd fought and won. "Who you are on the battlefield is different." He glanced back out the ocean, squinting. "It just is."
---
"It's alright," she said quietly, swallowing. "I'm- I can talk about it. It's a considerable improvement." She licked her lips. "I know. Here-" She paused. "It's more what they do, anyway. Saving people from the things that go bump in the night. War is different then vigilantism, and here... this isn't war." She swallowed. "I don't think I can train for a day that may or may not come, keeping constantly ready. I guess what I do is more... fighting the good fight anyhow."
---
"You do fight the good fight, I promise. Vigilantism is difficult; it takes a certain person who wants to stay trained and ready at the drop of a hat." He shrugged. "You're helping people get on with their lives after all the mess is cleaned up. It's very important, I promise. It's a hard fight."
---
"I know, sweetheart." She didn't even think as the endearment just... slipped.
"I know I'm doing the right thing, it's just..." She swallowed. "I wonder how my life would be different if I hadn't done it. If it would be better or not." She bit the inside of her lip. "If the people who thought that it was the wrong thing for me were right."
---
His heart skipped at the pet name, a small smile on his face. He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think we can ever know something like that. But it isn't a time for regrets-- and you would have regretted NOT having the experience, that's for sure." He paused. "Caution and temperance are all well and good, but a little mischief and risk taking can lead to experiences we never dreamed of." All of his time in Narnia was the result of a game of hide and seek, and of Ed's foolishness; he would hardly call that a wise choice, but their lives were still changed forever.
---
"I don't regret it." That she knew. "Just- I don't know. It's a day for thinking, I suppose." She shook her head. "You know? It just... is one of those days." She paused, and looked over at him. "It's the same way I wonder about Narnia. If I hadn't been quite so... stupid... about things." She shrugged, and then looked at him pointedly. "I was," she said preemptively, just because if she knew him, he'd been about to protest. "I was twelve. Not a particularly smart age to start with."
---
"You weren't--" She cut him off, and he pressed his lips together into a small smile, eyes soft. "Fine, fine, twelve is as twelve does." He cocked his head to the side. "But that's how Narnia is." He shrugged. "I was only thirteen the first time we went to Narnia. And by the end of it, I was leading a battle with my younger brother, and then ended up High King." He grinned. "Adventures are just that-- adventures. There's no telling where we'll land; that's half the fun." He paused. "And your time in Narnia was just-- you had a rough go of it. The End of the World probably isn't pleasant anywhere."
---
She shrugged. "It... I've read- it apparently was right brilliant, after." Her brows knit. "I- I don't understand it, though. Apparently none of us cared. After." That - that was the thing that gave her that odd, pinched look she got every now and again.
---
He nodded, brow furrowed. "Susan talked about the books, but I haven't yet read them." He paused, letting out a tight breath. "I really should. And I mean to, I just--" He shook his head. "I don't know. The fact that I come from a story... It's hard to just jump in and start reading."
---
She opened her mouth and closed it. "Can I say-" She swallowed. "Don't-" She looked down in the sand. "Don't think less of me," she said quietly, unsure how else to say it. "Please. I- I understand if you do."
---
Peter glanced at her sharply, brow furrowed. "Think less of you?" His lips parted, thoughtful. "Is this--" He paused, eyes searching her face. "Is this about what was said? At the end, about Susan?" He remembered the conversation clearly-- Susan had told him what he'd said to her, and it stung, sharply. He knew it was true (she'd never lie to him), but he still wanted to see it for himself.
---
"I hadn't said it." Her brow knit. "I- when I came here, I hadn't said it. I... I suspect that I was... angry. Because-" Her lower lip quivered, but she didn't break at all. Just kept talking, low and even. "Because I hadn't processed what'd happened, just that... Scrubb and I had gone and just- we'd never actually been in a war, and she- Narnia was no longer a place for her." She pressed her lips together. "I wouldn't say it now. I wouldn't actually wish what happened - what she had to deal with - on anyone." She didn't want to look at him. Not with... "I didn't actually mean that, of all the things. I probably should have, but- I... I'm- I mess up so many times, Peter. So many. Your cousin fell off a cliff because of me."
---
"I don't even know what you said, Jill." He paused, eyes pleading. "Susan and I talked about it a little, but not much; I was still getting used to the idea that we're all from some series of novels. I don't know what you said, but I'm sure it's fine, I promise. And we can talk about it when I read it, okay?" He squeezed the hand on the knee closest to him, softly.
"If Eustace fell of a cliff, I nearly guarantee that it wasn't simply your fault." He paused, wry. "The boy was a right menace, sometimes."
---
"I- Do you not want to know, then?" She looked over at him, her teeth tightening on her lower lip.
"Aslan said it was my fault. That Eustace fell." Her eyes burned. "I- I was showing off. On the edge, and- and he tried to stop me from falling." She paused. "For a long time - for... for for years, Eustace has been my best friend. I- You have no idea how much I miss him, even though - yes. He's been a menace, but..." She swallowed hard.
---
He shook his head, brow furrowed. Aslan said it was my fault. He shook his head, blinking hard. "It's all right." He nodded, tilting his head to the side a bit. "I'm going to read the books. I need to, really, I've just been putting it off." He shook his head, smiling. "It'll be all right, really."
---
She didn't believe him. She bit her lip so hard that it was white, and shrugged her shoulders, staring out at the ocean. Did you know- Do you know-
She couldn't ask him. Didn't want to be the one who said We're all dead and you and Ed and Lucy left Susan alone and that's another reason she dislikes me so. So, for once, she didn't, and she looked over at him, and- and for all that it would solve nothing, she wished in a way that he'd just kiss her and they could forget this whole thing for a bit - but it wasn't his way.
"The sunset," she said, swallowing. "It's not usually this clear."
---
He moved even closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder again and pressing a kiss to her temple. "It's beautiful," He said, into her hair, clearly not looking out at the sunset to begin with. There was a lot to say, but it wasn't yet the time to say it; he needed to read their history, their stories, and think to himself first. So for now, there was just her, him, and a sunset.