Metanoia - Peter Pan OUAT

Chapter Forty Seven

WARNING: slight violence in this chapter.

Metanoia fluttered her eyes open the following morning, her gaze instantly settling on the back of Peter's head as they laid in his bed. She blinked slowly, still lethargic, and didn't move a muscle as she discreetly gazed at him. His body was stagnant, as though he wasn't breathing, and Metanoia couldn't tell if he was awake. Her heart ached for him, wishing she could take away the pain he felt. The previous night was one which truly frightened her.

Peter had returned from Pixie Hollow with red-rimmed eyes and a grim face, so when Metanoia had spotted him instantly heading towards his treehouse without sparing her a glance, she could immediately tell that something had gone wrong.

Metanoia climbed up the ladder leading up to Peter's treehouse, and as she approached his door, her breath hitched in her throat nervously while her hand hovered over the doorknob. She jumped in her spot the moment she heard something shattering in his room, and she instantly shoved the door open. The girl was nowhere near prepared for what she witnessed.

Peter Pan, hugging his knees to his chest, with his broken mirror laying in haphazard shards around him. His face was buried in his knees, but Metanoia could clearly hear his violent sobs. She gulped, taking a tentative step towards him, but Pan lifted his head to glare at her, and he hissed, "Get out."

"Peter," She spoke softly, but Pan lividly lifted himself off the floor, his eyes glistening with tears but the palpable fury sizzling out of them was quite prominent, Metanoia had to step back for precautionary measures.

"I said," Pan seethed, and he stepped closer to her, pushing her shoulders back. "Get . The fuck. Out."

It wasn't an aggressive push. Peter didn't hurt her with his irritated shove, and she could tell he was burying his anger as much as he could so he wouldn't harm her. But Metanoia didn't respect his wishes, and instead, she stepped even closer to him, their breaths against each other's faces as she looked up at him determinedly. Her facial expression was overwhelmingly compassionate, and it ripped him further apart, because he knew he didn't deserve it.

He didn't deserve anything remotely pleasant.

"I'm not going anywhere." Metanoia spoke in hushed whispers, before she boldly placed her palms flat against both sides of his face. He flinched at her touch, causing her stomach to twist in hurt.

Did she do something?

"Please." Peter begged. "Leave before I do something I'll regret."

"Like what?" She challenged, raising a brow.

"I can't -" Pan bellowed, before stopping himself and prying her hands off him. Turning his back on her, Peter gripped at the roots of his hair and aggressively tugged on them. "You're the only one left. Just leave before I destroy that too."

"What are you talking about, Peter?" Metanoia gently placed her hand on his upper back, and again, he flinched. "Why are you flinching?" She couldn't help it. It was another blow of rejection to her heart and she couldn't possibly tolerate a third upcoming flinch.

Peter glanced back at her to witness her frustratedly hurt expression, and his own twisted with guilt. "It's not about you, love. Never about you."

"It's about Queen Clarion." Metanoia nodded, causing Pan to shut his eyes painfully at the mention of the queen. "You did it, didn't you?"

He simply nodded, his eyes still shut.

"And do you regret it?" She asked cautiously.

Pan gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. "That's what makes me feel like shit, Metanoia."