Author's Note: Here is yet another one of my Peter/Alice ficlets imported from my Tumblr blog. I originally wrote this on my Peter White rp blog and wish to share it here. This one is darker than the last, and left open ended for you, the read to infer what happens next. Enjoy!

As with any of my fics, constructive criticism is welcomed and much appreciated, especially by the Alice community!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Kuni no Alice series, characters, and so on. All rights go to Quinrose. Please support them!

Pairings/Characters: Peter, mentions of Alice and implied Peter/Alice.

Rating: T+ to be safe.

Warnings: None.

The longer he stared at his reflection, the longer the Nightmare's words played in his mind.

'She may love you, in a sense, but she does not love who you are.'

The more he looked, the more obvious the filth became. Despite being a clean rabbit who abhorred germs, the fact that there was dirt inside him made the rabbit no different than the rest. Like the others, role holder and faceless alike, he was dirty. His heart was as black as coal, and no doubt as filthy as the rest of him.

He claimed to love her so, that his feelings for her were pure, but it was all a lie. How could someone who had never felt love before, someone who would go so far as murder his family in cold blood ever love a pure, sweet being such as her? How could someone who viewed himself lower than dirt ever expect to love her; to make her the happiest woman in the world? To give her the love she so deserved and craved? How could such a person ever be him?

'That's why…you can never make her happy.'

Nightmare's words rung true as he continued to stare; disgust and anger boiling just under the surface. How could he have been so foolish as to believe Alice could ever love him? A man whose heart was colder than ice, whose body was tainted with filth, and who could be easily replaced at any moment... How could he delude himself to believing such a thing?

Love was a cruel mistress.

Placing a gloved hand to the mirror, fingertips gently grazing the glass below, Peter took a good long look at himself, his self-loathing and disgust reaching new levels. The rabbit had always detested himself, including himself among the masses that made up his world. Why, he didn't know. Perhaps it was due to the knowledge that, if he should die, he would be replaced with ease. No one would care about him, even if he was a role holder. No one would care if he were to die. Therefore, to care about yourself in the face of such a truth was foolish; why bother to love something that was destined to be destroyed and replaced, anyway?

It was also this view that lured him to Alice.

The afternoons she spent with her sister, the desire she held as she waited for the day to come, the sheer amount of love that welled inside her as she sat in the garden with her sister. All of that had broken though, shining a warm light onto his cold, black heart so that. In that instance, the rabbit began to understand what it was to be loved, cherished; to be seen as having worth and not as something that could be easily replaced without a care in the world.

He understood, and he craved it. He wanted to reciprocate such a love, to show her just how she touched him. He wanted her to shower her in this love that she had given in whenever her negativity came about. To Peter, Alice was the most loving, most pure and warm person he had ever met. To hear her say otherwise was like a knife to his heart. Did she not have any idea how capable of love she was? How warm she could be and that all she saw was a lie? Did she not know that he had felt it?

No, she did not, for Peter wasn't a person. He was simply a speck in time, the one she treasured and loved the most without knowing. The one bit of proof that would dispel the lie Alice cast on herself would never be known to her, for he could not tell her. If he were to, she would leave Wonderland, would leave him to return to an unforgiving world full of pain.

As a result, he was doomed to know the truth, unable to speak it lest he ruin everything he worked towards and put her through more pain. He was forced to remain silent, to confront the truth that warmed him, yet shone light on the reality that was him.

Dirty, filthy, replaceable, unlovable; a mere moment in time in which, if revealed, could break her entire world.

How could he possibly make her happy? How could he be her world like she was his if he could not so much as utter a word of the truth? How could a filthy rabbit such as him claim to love her as she did him when his actions and treatment towards others proved otherwise?

He couldn't.

Turning away from the mirror, Peter shut his eyes tight, holding back the wave of negative emotions that threatened to overcome him. Where had his indifference gone? Where did the cold, unfeeling, indifferent Peter go? Since when was he replaced by an even filthier creature that even he despised more than any other?

It was pathetic.

This too was made known to him, the word thrown about by some of the other role holders. At first he made nothing of it, treating their words as if they were another bit of filth beneath his notice. Yet at moments like this, when his soul was stripped bare, the words rang true. He was pathetic, not worthy to be with someone such as her. He could never make her happy, no matter how hard he tried. He would keep causing her pain; a constant reminder of a time long past that she could never get back. He would never be the one for her.

Then what purpose did his existence serve?

If he could never be with her or make her happy, then why was he here? Was he here to protect her; to guide her? Guide her to where? She was already in Wonderland, forming friendships left, right and center. Alice was slowly opening herself up to others, letting people in who could look after her and her heart. Even someone like the Hatter had gained her trust, taking care of her in his own way. He couldn't see a reason to be her guide, or any reason to stick around.

After all, wasn't she happiest without him? She had even said it herself. Why bother with this existence if he could be of no use to her, or mean so little to the one who showed him what it felt like to be loved and not simply a replaceable object? Why bother to continue this life?

Alice had friends, a new family, happiness, a possible suitor.

There was no room for him anymore.

It was time to fade into the background, to go back to a state of non-existence from whence he came.

He would no longer be a burden to her.

She would finally be free.

Fin