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It had been nearly a month since the girls had moved in together and things were going well. While there certainly were quarrels about cleaning, and the peculiarities of each individual, on the whole they worked well with each other. That said there was a list of rules, many of them concerning Alice, most of which Susan had made up.
That was the troubling part, thought Wendy. Susan.
It was not that she didn't fit in or wasn't accepting, but she wouldn't open up to the others. Wendy knew, from her time in the sessions, that Susan suffered greatly and had lost her family, but the only thing she would say beyond that is that they had not died during the war. She refused to go to church, sometimes quite aggressively, and mostly consumed herself in her work.
The other girls had all opened up to each other about their fantastic adventures. They had done so surreptitiously at first, except for Alice, but eventually they all knew each others past. Yet Susan never claimed to have any adventures, and though she became frustrated with the others, she never seemed to think they were simply telling stories. Susan claimed that working in MI-6 gave her access to a lot of strange information, but Wendy felt that the other woman was keeping something from the rest of them.
Still, Susan did participate in other activities with her flatmates. They would have days where they would all speak French, bake pastries while keeping Alice away from the kitchen, deal with Lyra 'borrowing' Dorothy's slippers, go for a night out and set Alice on hapless men, and other such things. Despite their quarrels, Susan did get along with Lyra at times, the two were quite similar which caused friction, but also led to a growing bond that Wendy could see.
On a Wednesday morning in early October, just as they were all preparing to leave for their various jobs, Wendy noticed that she heard a lot of sirens from outside, and that traffic seemed quite heavy. She turned on the radio to the broadcaster saying:
“This just in, three trains were involved in a disaster at Harrow and Wealdstone station. Damage and casualties are unknown at this time but expected to be substantial. More on this story as events unfold.”
Glass shattered as a cup hit the floor. The morning bustle of the apartment came to a dead halt as all the girls looked towards Susan. Her face was white as a sheet as she stood, shocked into stillness. Years of working in Army camps came back to Wendy.
“Lyra, gather everyone's bags and what bandages we have. Dorothy, we will need your slippers to get us there. Susan...”
Susan didn't respond. This was bad, Susan was one of the most confident women Wendy knew and they would need her government clearance to get the others to the station. Every one of them had survived the war or something comparable and people needed her help. She slapped Susan in the face and could see color and sanity return to her friend.
“Wendy, I...”
“Are you alright?”
Shaking her head and straightening her spine Susan composed herself.
“I don't have a choice. People need us.”
“Do you have your credentials?”
“Yes.”
Surveying the others preparations quickly, Wendy was, for once, glad of the hash realities of the past that all her friends shared. Every one of them had a bug out bag ready by the door, just in case. There was only one thing left.
“Alice, get your tea.”
That raised a few eyebrows, but if the tea had what Wendy thought it did it would spare some morphine for the other aid workers. Alice herself seemed surprised by the request as well. One of the house rules was to not drink Alice's tea.
“Are we going to a special tea party?”
“Yes Alice, a very special tea party, so bring your best tea. I think a lot of people will want some.”
As the girl raced to the cupboard to fetch her supplies she turned back in what seemed like a lucid moment and looked at Wendy.
“It's quite serious, isn't it?”
“Yes Alice, it is.”
She grabbed a large tea kettle and some cups, as well as a bag of various leaves and herbs. As Alice rejoined the group Dorothy clicked her heels twice.
******
Dorothy was proud of her friends. Wendy, wet blanket at times though the woman might be, had led all of them straight to a makeshift medic station as soon as they heard the news. Susan was able to get them all in with her credentials and Wendy set Alice to brewing her tea with Lyra delivering it to those who needed it. Dorothy herself was working with the police and medics to get statements and details from anyone she could so that proper information could be given to the families.
Susan looked ill and Dorothy was certain that the other woman had gone off to vomit once, but she came back and insisted on helping with bandaging the injured. While Susan did not work on any of the truly bad cases, that was Wendy's area, everyone could smell the blood, wreckage, and dying bodies that were nearby. The dead and the...flesh... were removed as quickly as possible, and several men were working to clear the rubble that could be most easily removed. The tension was palpable and everyone worked with a kind of madness that only came out in emergencies.
The twister on the farm was nothing compared to the carnage of today. Dorothy had visited Sobibór once, after the war, on assignment, but horror there was sterile. Today it was far too acute. The journalist was happy to play the role of secretary today and leave the blood to others.
After awhile the dead and the most injured were removed to hospitals and Wendy went with them, tagging along with some doctor and a medical student. Susan insisted on staying to help with clean up and one look to Lyra and Alice told Dorothy that they were not going anywhere. She passed on her notes to the appropriate authorities and clicked her heels back to the apartment. They had all gone in the clothes they were wearing which were now covered in dust and gore. She picked out a change of clothes for each of her friends and quickly made a lunch for all of them and brought the apartment broom as well.
When she got back Alice and Lyra were content to eat with her and change in privacy, but Susan would not stop working. Her friend was the last to put down her broom once all the work that could be done was completed. Dorothy had completed all of the records she could in that time, and even done a bit of sweeping, everyone was exhausted. Lyra and Alice were ready to go back, shower, and sleep, but Susan insisted on walking home alone. Dorothy didn't argue. She took the other two and all of their supplies back, typed nearly a page of the story for her editor while waiting for the shower, and then slept.
********
It happened again. He had let it happen again. Susan wandered through the streets in shock at the horror of it all. Three trains, hundreds of people, and the station itself. All ruined.
He had let it happen again.
She wandered through a graveyard, screaming and crying until there was nothing left in her. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right! Why did they all have to die?! He could have stopped it!
But he didn't. He never did.
She thought she was over this but the accident only served to remind her how deep those scars were, how raw.
He let it happen again.
Picking herself off the ground she headed towards the office. She was dirty, wrecked, and in nothing resembling professional attire, but she owed it to her superior to explain what had happened. After twenty minutes of walking she arrived at the door just as Mycroft was coming out.
“Ms. Pevensie? Why are you here?”
She composed herself and steadied her voice.
“I felt I owed the office an explanation and-”
“Ms. Pevensie. I already took care of it.”
“What?”
“I read your file before you were even brought on. Your supervisor knows what happened. We expected some delays and absentees with the disaster, but we quickly realized you would not make it in today. As such, arrangements have been made.”
Susan was puzzled. She knew she had told MI-6 about her family history, how could she not, but Mycroft had been expecting this?
He handed her a large file.
“Yes you have the next three days off, however this file does need to be reviewed so if you don't mind...”
She accepted the bag without resistance, and that was when Mycroft hugged her.
“I am so sorry,” he said.
The embrace was awkward, and brief. But warm.
“Do you need me to call a taxi Ms. Pevensie?”
She shook her head and started to walk back towards her flat. She wasn't better, but she had a job to do. She could keep moving forward.
*******
Lyra woke to the sound of the shower. It was early evening and Wendy had come back home. Dorothy was sleeping on the couch and Alice was looking at a picture book quietly in a chair and petting her invisible cat. Lyra had taken a nap in her bed and came out as soon as she heard Wendy finishing in the washroom.
“How are they?” Asked Lyra.
“Most of the ones who came back to the hospital will make it. A new doctor, Mr. Watson, just transferred in and he does good work. His assistant, Mr. Parry, was also quite helpful. How are you?”
“Alright I suppose. Everyone just collapsed once they got back.”
As had everyone's daemon's, Pan was moving groggily, Dorothy's terrier was sleeping with her, even Alice's strange creature was calm. Wendy's goose looked tired and sad.
“Where's Susan?”
“She said she wanted to walk back.”
“But you must have been done hours ago. Where could she be?”
Wendy's goose looked concerned and flew to the window just as the door to the flat opened.
Sue was still dirty, and her eagle looked just as tired as the rest. She had picked up a large bag from somewhere, as well as fish and chips, and sat them both down on the table.
“Where have you been?” Asked Wendy.
“I had to pick up something from the office.”
“Pick up something from the office? After what you went through? Susan are you daft?”
“Would you let a patient wait?”
Wendy closed her mouth and flushed red. Susan pulled two books out of the bag she had and laid them on the table. By this time everyone was awake and paying attention.
“I met Mr. Lewis at a party. His work is not to my liking and he was not particularly keen with some of my choices, but I think you will be interested in what he wrote. I am going to take a shower then have dinner.”
Just as she was about to disappear into the washroom, Lyra called out to her.
“Sue. About this morning-”
Her voice was distant and hollow.
“My family died three years ago. They were in a train accident.”
The flat grew quiet, everyone holding their breath at this new revelation.
“Mr. Lewis hasn't finished his story yet. Perhaps I'll tell you the ending someday, but I would really like that shower now.”