Innocence (OUAT/Peter Pan)

Chapter 30: Fire and Smoke

Hello! So I got another chapter done in time to update yay! This is short, but bear with me, I still have lots of plans for this story so there's still lots to go!

Multimedia in external link (I'm SLOWLY updating it...emphasis on the SLOWLY)

Check out Seatleslew21's Story Starts, she put up more and I'm excited for it!:)

SHOUTOUT TO MY AMAZING QUIRKY AWESOME GENIUS SUPERSTAR BUDDY vanessa5836 FOR HER AMAZINGNESS AND HER STORY "SECOND STAR TO THE RIGHT" I wuv u even though you torture me and laugh at my pain<3

This is dedicated to alyssahoranstyles342 for her awesome comments and I love your username and totally agree;)

Oh and I have a question: FALSELUCK, if you're still with me, are you also physcosis???

PETER PAN’S POV

Peter’s heart wasn’t beating, he was sure of it. He leaned over Elle, lying on her back in the sand and crying out in pain, blue eyes squeezed shut and jaw tight. He reached out, his fingertips just brushing her temples when her eyes snapped open.

            “Princess?” he choked, trying to speak through his tight throat and dry mouth. But she didn’t respond, her eyes looked glazed over like she was somewhere else. Something shot up Peter’s spine at that.

            Then she snarled at him and, before he could react, she’d thrown him off of her. He staggered back six steps, barely managing to stay on his feet. He looked down at his chest, panting, but she hadn’t left any wounds and his feet were steady. When his eyes met hers again, shocked, her blue eyes storming. Peter swallowed, and inconspicuously looked down to check that he wasn’t a pile of ashes.

            “These men aren’t bloody pirates!” she screamed, voice high and thin, and so full of pain Peter felt like she’d hit his stomach with Felix’s short staff. “They could be lost, there was no bad intent, I saw!” She continued, flicking her wrist at the corpse of a sailor lying next to her. The one her she’d touched…ah. Peter nodded, both to himself and to her. Sometimes, if someone magical touched the freshly dead body of someone heavily cursed, they could feel their last moments. Peter bit back a grimace, it wasn’t the most pleasant thing, unless it was a damn pirate—then, he enjoyed their pain. Let it be a lesson.

            “These were someone’s husband, or father, or son or friend, or, or, or brother!” That hit. Peter couldn’t quite cover his wince, and it felt as through a sword had been plunged through his stomach. “You wanted revenge? On who?” she demanded, eyes burning and hair glowing. She was going to lose it, and this was not a challenge he needed.

            “Enough,” he raised his voice, asserting that he was in charge. Hadn’t he just proven that, by making her cast the curse, anyway? “No grown-ups are allowed on Neverland, ever.” IT was simple, those were the rules. His rules. Not to be broken by any Lost Boy or girl, not by anyone other than the ruler of Neverland himself.

            “You could have kicked them back without killing them! You could have fought them off without that damned curse! You have no idea what kind of pain that caused! I do, I went through it—twice!” Peter’s jaw tightened further, if possible. He opened his mouth, but closed it when he saw her fingers brush the burn on her shoulder. Peter felt sick, and when she barely held back a scream of pain at the contact, Peter barely held back from throwing up. He opened his mouth again to fix it, and get her to calm the hell down, when she disappeared right in front of him. Back to camp, he guessed, and a moment later was proven correct when he felt her aura appear there.

            Peter took a deep, ragged breath before straightening his head and looking at the Lost Boys, spread out across the beach, surrounded by the sailors’ corpses. He surveyed the blood-stained sand, sprawled bodies, and panting, grinning Lost Boys in satisfaction. Now they can’t hurt her again, and Hook will finally get the message through that thick, eyelined skull of his to stay the hell away from his island, his boys, and his princess.

            He stood still while the Lost Boys sauntered about, gathering weapons, temporarily bandaging any heavy wounds, and making their way to stand in a semicircle before him. Still, under the satisfaction and pride at his boys’ work, her reaction made him feel weird. The last time he had really been confused was when Felix turned him down that first time, hundreds of years ago at least. There was another emotion swirling in his chest, it made his throat thick and he felt sick. He didn’t remember what it was, but he had felt it before. It all just made him angry.

            Stupid little girl, he was just protecting her! Who gets angry over someone taking any and every measure necessary to protect them? Her expression, when he’d first hit her with the fire—and accident, of course—flashed in his mind. How devastated, and scared, she’d looked. She was so scared of him. And so angry, and so heartbroken. Even when she was screaming at him, it was more than anger. Peter found the word of his emotion just as Felix stepped to his side. Sadness.

            “Good job, boys,” he smirked, chuckling drily at the carnage. They grinned, all of them raising their weapons and hooting and cheering. “Tonight,” he raised his voice, regaining his earlier satisfaction and excitement, “we celebrate!” He turned and began to lead the train of jumping, excited, loud Lost Boys through the forest to camp, Felix at his side. The blonde was quiet, as usual, but Peter could feel the constant side glances. Honestly, he might as well just look outright. He ignored it, reveling in their victory and absorbing the boys’ energy.

            About halfway from camp, he felt the little princess’ aura leave the campsite, and then disappear entirely. Startled, Peter tapped Felix’s shoulder before transporting himself to the empty campsite. She wasn’t there, not in Felix’s or his or any of the boys’ tents. She wasn’t anywhere near the campsite.