What happened to Susan Pevensie (Sherlock x Narnia)

5

Where are we going now Sherlock?"

"To the library."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said but now we have to check the newspaper archive."

"What? Why?"

"In that box there was an old issue of them from March 1949. I didn't see the title but Susan isn't that type of a person that would store things without purpose. That's why I need to read that newspaper."

They headed to the same library they've met Susan in. Mrs. Phelps showed them the way and they started looking. Sherlock took a batch from March 1949 and sat down behind a table. He gave half of it to John.

"15.3.1949 The Times we have to find the issue."

He searched and threw the not suitable ones on a pile. John sat down on another table and started searching himself.
Ten minutes passed. Sherlock was in half of his pack when John said in grave voice:

"Sherlock. I found it."

He looked up and John turned the papers around. Sherlock read the title.

"No. No, no, no, no! That doesn't make sense."

He snatched the issue from Johns hands.

Train accident claimed hundred thirty and seven lives, cause is yet to be estimated.
Yesterday, 14th of March year 1949 on a railway from London to Xxx a train derailed and fell on a side. It continued to move for nearly a mile. The cause of this accident is yet to be uncovered. Our condolences for everyone who lost somebody in this horrible twist of fate. Learn more on page four.

His eyes flew over the text. There is a photo attached. A train on a side, smoke rising. The fact that the picture was black and white only increased the terrifying sensation. Sherlock was suddenly on a clear page. It now all fell into place.
Why did Susan have Peter's mug and why there were no pictures of them together on display.
Why was she so upset on the mention of her siblings. And her parents the detective realized. Her parents as well. This is what happened to Susan Pevensie.
She lost her family.
All at once.
On page four there is a list of names.
Sherlock looked over it.
The names landed like bullets and punched the breath out of him.
Peter Pevensie
Edmund Pevensie
Lucy Pevensie
There were also names he just heard them mention.
Their mother.
Hellen Pevensie
Their cousin.
Eustace Scrubb
Family friend.
Diggory Ketterley
He collapsed on a chair.
John didn't know what to do. He had never seen the cold and collected man like this. Sherlock stared into space, his gaze unfocused, the newspaper fell out of his hands and he didn't even notice.
John knew the pain.
He lost his father during war. His mother died of flu.
But he also knew Sherlock was new to this.
He wasn't used to feel emotions. He always concealed them and now like water from a broken dam they flooded his mind.
The dam was leaking before but the dark head wasn't ready for this. Never for this.
His maybe even only friends, he had during his childhood are dead.
And they left only a grieving sister and a broken man behind.

"Sherlock. Sherlock look at me." John spoke firmly.

The man before him raised his head and John freezed on spot. Sherlock's eyes were glittering with tears.

"They are dead John. They are all dead," he closed his eyes and slid on the floor.

Detectives head was on the same level as John's chest. John grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into an embrace.
Had it been anybody else John would say that it will be okay, that it will get better but he knew that this was not Sherlock's case.
Had it been anybody else Sherlock would push them away.
The dark haired man was overflowing with emotions and his lack of knowledge about how to tame them was evident.
Sherlock buried his face into John's chest. His arms slid onto the shorter ones back and there clenched his shirt. John's hands steadied on his back.
The detective wasn't crying, no, he just needed a moment to get together and also a reassurement which John gladly offered.
The embrace was meant to remind Sherlock that he was not alone, not ever again, that he had somebody to lean on, somebody who will never leave.
Somebody called John.
And as much as it was a common name the man wearing it, was the most uncommon and special person in Sherlock's life.

They stayed like that for a while. Finally Sherlock stood up. He let out a shaky exhale and fixed his suit.

"Alright. Let's move."

He didn't mention the situation that happened just then. John grabed his jacket.

"Let's go."

Sherlock took the newspaper with him.
As they left the library Sherlocks mind was hidden behind a dam again.