Could Have, Should Have, Didn't - A Narnia Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty: Too Late... Never

Salty air aggravated his nose and tickled his cheeks with red blush. Voices peppered the air, but he couldn't make himself care, not that much.

Because he knew they had to be close. Close enough that he could taste it.

See it.

Feel it.

Seven years, seven, without a Mum, without a Dad.

Watching others, with their parents, envying it, unfairly despising them for being so lucky. Wanting to return home from school to see his Mother baking or cooking or cleaning. Wanting to be working on homework or reading and hear his Father's boots hit the floor, signaling he was home from his job.

Wanted to run to Dad when he was frightened, wanted to give Mum the hug she deserved, the one he'd been hesitant to give her, when he'd been horribly mean to everyone.

As much as he wanted to see them all, as much as he wanted to start a new life, get settled- he still found himself fearful. He'd been so used to life in London, everything was practically predictable.

What if now in America, it was all different? What if Dad was ruined by war along with Mum? What if they didn't love him? Didn't miss him. Didn't care about him because he wasn't the oldest, because he wasn't accomplished.

What if they weren't proud of him? His excitement dropped into fear.

Then he tried to calm himself and tried to remind himself that he'd done some things they'd be proud of, like the way he protected Lucy and the rest.

It might not have been like how Peter would have, but he had kept them all in check. Never again losing sight of them after the waiting room and the brig. Maybe he wasn't so bad. Not all the time.

Maybe his parents would be a little proud of him. Just a little bit of pride in their eyes over him was all he would need. All he'd needed all these years.

Beside him, the huge smile on Rita's face was enough to make him smile too, enough to make his belly flip.

She must've been proud of him, at least, he hoped she was. If she was the only person who liked him, he would be happy. Well, maybe not if Lucy didn't, or Caspian didn't, or Mum and Dad, or Susan and Peter... Point was, he hoped Rita was proud of him. Hoped she wasn't too angry. After everything.

Even Edith was grinning from ear to ear, the knowledge that they were close to stepping on land again as exciting as a good Christmas. A Christmas with full stockings and a warm fire, with steaming food and sweet treats. With a soft layer of snow coating the sidewalks and windowsills and laughter swallowing everything. Celebrating.

With a family. Family. Soon.

Just ahead of him, bouncing up and down, Lu turned to look at him and he saw hopeful sunlight dancing in her blue eyes. Finally, they had reached their destination.

America. Ellis island.

More check-ins probably awaited, more stuffy rooms full of annoying children and creepy men, but honestly, Edmund could care less. At least they would be getting off this stupid boat.

It'd been too long, their trip; he had been hoping for two weeks maximum. But it'd lasted five agonizing weeks of figuring things out. In those five weeks, he'd managed to make a friend, lose a friend, get locked up in the brig, get horribly sick, protect his siblings yet do a lazy job at that, almost kiss a girl, upset said girl, get into a fight at a bar, taken a drink and broken a few ribs.

He couldn't wait to get away from another place that now held bad memories. As places always did. Would America soon become that way too?- filled with things he wanted to forget?