April 26th
It's not real
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"Ed, Edmund look at me, come on, look at me. That's it, hey, whatever it was, it wasn't real okay?" Peter took a deep breath, gripping Edmund's upper arms as his brother gasped. "You have a fever, you had a nightmare okay, it wasn't real."
Edmund didn't do anything for a while, before he pulled back the covers in a panic and pressed his hand to his side, gripping his night shirt like driftwood in a storm and staring down at his hand with wide eyes.
Peter's stomach plummeted, and he swallowed hard to keep back any tears. "Hey come on, it wasn't real, it's not real." He murmured, trying to keep his voice soft. "Not anymore,"
He placed his hand over Edmund's, and Edmund's head immediately snapped back up, the two making eye contact with each other again.
Peter smiled weakly. "You're okay." He whispered. "You're not hurt, I promise. It was just a dream, it's not real."
Edmund stared at him for ages, not moving a muscle and hardly even breathing, before he swallowed hard and heavily lay back down, squeezing his eyes shut.
Peter sighed sadly, pushing Edmund's sweaty hair back from his forehead with slightly shaking hands. "You're okay." He whispered, whether to Edmund or to himself he wasn't sure, but it did manage to calm them both down considerably.
Edmund didn't say anything at all, not even when Peter began dabbing a cold damp cloth against his burning forehead, he just lay there, eyes closed, completely still.
Peter didn't push him to say anything, but he made sure he drank some water before he drifted off to sleep again, and he could only hope the fever didn't bring on any more night terrors, because that one had been truly awful.
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