I jolt awake and immediately feel bogged down with apprehension. As I'm thrust into consciousness, I realize what today is and my stomach drops.

Today, we go to the second last mansion. There's a fifty percent chance that Neal is already here and that he's waiting for me to come and save him but I have no plan still. The best plan I have at this point is still sacrificing myself, which I know both Neal and Peter will both severely disapprove of. Neither of them will stand for it, but at this point it's the only way. Well, maybe.

The possibility that Ursula brought up lingered at the back of my mind ever since she even suggested it. It was always there, pushing down on m with the weight of it's possibility, not only what it meant for Neal, that he would be saved, and that I could live to, but what it meant for me and Peter. The possibility of sharing my heart with Peter now seems more possible and tangible than ever after my revelation two weeks ago.

I love Peter.

I love him and probably have for a while.

I've no idea if he loves me back.

It doesn't mean that I forgive him either.

I don't really know what it actually means. But it certainly feels like the possibility of sharing my heart with Peter isn't such a wild, ridiculous notion. It feels like it would feel right and good. But feelings like that don't change the fact that I haven't forgiven him for what he's done. I don't know if I ever will. I was hurt beyond belief by him and I don't know if I could ever feel something for him any stronger than that hurt. I love him in spite of it, but it doesn't mean I've forgiven him. Hell, he still hasn't even given me a formal apology yet.

I turn over in bed and blink a few times as I face the morning sun streaming through the window. Although the day looks bright and warm with a gorgeous blue sky, I know outside is actually icy cold. The mountains are hardly a tropical region, but apparently Gold liked this region a great deal because he has several residences in it. I suppose it makes them harder to access and more isolated, but I really do wish he liked mansions in the southern warm part of the Enchanted Forest that border the tropical South Sea. It's midway through summer but here in the mountains it feels like winter. Not to mention the fact that I'd be closer to my brothers, well two of them at least.

I rub at my temples, a headache already beginning to throb when I think of Baelfire and all that needs to be done to save him, or even if he can be saved. It's been so long already, nearly six months now that I've been traipsing all over creation to find him. God only knows if he hasn't withered away into nothing or been consumed by Gold. I'm tempted to check the star and see if it still flickers to confirm he's okay, but I forbid myself from doing that almost as soon as I realize what it showed me. I wouldn't have been able to continue on searching or even functioning if I kept getting sidetracked by that star. I kept it hidden deep in the recesses of my bag, partly so Peter couldn't get a hold of it but mainly because I couldn't bare to look at it for very long without devolving into hysterics.

I've come this far and I still feel like I'm about to tumble into hysterics. The best plan I have for saving Neal is sacrificing myself and leaving behind my family, not to mention I'm sure Neal with hate me for it and of course, the obvious issue is that I'll be dead. There's no easy solution to this and I don't think I'll be much like the Charming's where a wonderfully convenient solution will just appear right at the last minute. No, for me, it's always just be one tough choice and a tougher outcome after another for the past century.

I suppose I've never been destined to save my brothers. I was never meant to be a hero.

I sigh and try to burrow myself even deeper into the blankets. Perhaps if I go deep enough into them I can just pretend everything is going well and sleep for the next few years without everything falling to pieces. But just as I'm pulling the sheets up over my head I hear the rustle of sheets from across the room and some incoherent grumbling and I know Peter's going to wake up soon.

I turn over, still cocooned in blankets and look over at Peter, who is still trying and failing to sleep just a little bit longer. His mouth is set in a firm line and his eyebrows are slightly furrowed together like he's trying to figure out a difficult arithmetic problem. His hair is tousled and curls on his forehead playfully. Even from across the room, I fight the urge to brush the hairs away.

It boggles my mind to think how just a few months ago I hated him with every fibre of my being. He was so cruel and arrogant and mean and such a bastard. And sometimes he's still a bastard, but he's one who has come a long, long way and has completely transformed into not only a decent human being but a kind one. Peter, as much as he acts tough and distant, he does have a good heart, I believe. I've no idea if it's always been there or it's a completely change but it's there now and there's no denying and to just think about how big of a change that is completely astounds me. To think that he and that boy who tricked me into giving him my heart in Skull Rock are the same person is almost laughable. I mean sure, he's not perfect but he's definitely not trying to trick me into giving him my heart and saving his island anymore. He's really truly trying to help me find Neal this time and I know it's not a ploy.

"It's rude to stare, bird," Peter's voice says dryly, jolting me back to the present. I blink a couple of times and focus on Peter, who's staring right back at me intently, a smirk smeared across his mouth.

"I wasn't staring." I was definitely staring.

Peter just rolls his eyes and sits up in bed, resting his elbows on his knees and looking around the room, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "If you say so," he tells me, the corner of his mouth still pulled up into a half smile.

There's a pause and we both sit in silence, both of us remembering what today is and how important it is. It's very nearly the end of our journey and may very well be close to the end of my life altogether if we don't find a spell or some other magical fix. I may even see Neal today. There's so much riding on today, it feels like we're standing at the very top of a mountain, just about to come crashing down the side of it.

Finally, I slip out of bed and walk quickly over to the bathroom. There's no point in dragging out the waiting process any longer. I've got to face this day, even if all that it promises terrifies me. I quickly go through the motions, but get held up short when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I don't usually take much time to examine myself, but today, I can't seem to turn away from my reflection. Not that I'm completely entranced by myself or anything like that. Instead, it's the thin, white, barely noticeable scar just under my hairline. I push back the frizzy mess I like to call hair and stare at it.

The last time I was even aware that I had this was the last time I was standing in front of a mirror, trying to convince myself to not be kind to Peter. That seems like eons ago, when in fact it was only a few months ago. Thinking about it now, that mentality, that I had back then, of withholding my kindness from Peter hurt me much more than this scar ever did. Of course, it was painful and I hate it and how I feel and act towards Peter now doesn't justify it. But my relationship with Peter now makes me feel so good now, it makes this scar seem insignificant.

How much Peter cares for me and how good he makes me feel about myself far outweighs very nearly all the wrongs he's ever done to me.

I grip the cool counter of the sink so hard my knuckles turn white. The world seems to have gotten smaller all at once, but it also seems to be ginormous around me. I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears and my breath coming in short bursts. I feel so infinitely calm and content, but still completely anxious about what this means for my entire life.

"Wendy!" Peter knocks on the door so loudly that I'm afraid he'll break it down. "We need to go now!"

I push aside my whirlwind of thoughts for a moment to open the door to find Peter, looking more than a little stressed and antsy. He stands before me fidgeting, trying to maintain a calm facade.

"What do you mean? Check out's not supposed to be for another hour. We have time," I tell him calmly.

"Uh, no," he tells me. "The innkeeper just came to tell me he double booked our room and he needs us out now." For as long as I've known him, Peter can convince anyone of anything, but today just must not be his day.

"Don't lie to me, Peter Pan," I warn him. "What's this really about?" Peter stops fidgeting for a moment. His face for once is not an unmistakable mask of perfect indifference. It's filled with anxiety and… fear. I reach out and squeeze his hand. "What's wrong, Peter? What's this really about?"

Peter swallows and runs a hand through his hair, before finally admitting, "I think I just saw some of those merchants from a few months back come into the inn from the window."

"Why didn't you think you could tell me that? We're a team," I tell him seriously. "We handled them the last time, we can handle them again."

Peter closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I-I know," he says softly. "I just don't want you to get hurt again."

I reach out and sweep his dark hair off his forehead. "It'll be okay. Let's just pack up quickly then," I explain and we do just that.

We're out of the inn and on the road in less than ten minutes with no sight of the merchant. I immediately feel at ease and am about to turn my thoughts towards my bathroom discovery when I notice that Peter's still just as anxious as before, if not more so. Even as we trudge up the steep mountain path, urging the horses up and up, he looks over his shoulder every few moments, scanning the ledges and crevices. He does this the entire way to the mansion and once we reach it, he insists on going all the way around to the back of the mansion just to tie up the horses.

"I really think this is overkill," I tell him, swinging off of Ash. Peter doesn't look back at me as he unties his pack from Samson. "I'm serious. This is overboard."

"I'm just being cautious," he tells me. He swings his bag off the horse and makes his way over to the rickety wooden gate that leads into the large stone manor, that looks ominously over us with it's black marble finishes and darkened windows that must have once not been so dingy with dust.

"And I'm being serious. This isn't like you," I push. I know there's something he's not telling me. Maybe he still feels guilty about everything surrounding the merchants, maybe he's aware that that was one of the most major blow-ups of our relationship, if not the biggest and he doesn't want to relive it. I don't know what it is, but something is not normal.

Peter doesn't respond and simply stalks into the mansion. I huff under my breath and follow after him, suddenly seeming to remember that there's a good chance that Neal is in here But as soon as I step through the doorway, I know he isn't here. The cold that immediately hits me seeps down into my bones and the dust that layers everything is so thing that I realize that what I thought was carpet is just in fact a very dusty stone floor of what must have been a kitchen.

"He's not here," I rush out immediately. Peter drops his bag onto a low table, and begins to head out of the room. "Peter!" I call after him and again he doesn't respond. I'm beginning to get upset now. He's being rude and selfish not telling me what's going on and it's frustrating having him act like this when we need to just get to the end of this journey. I'm tired and I'm scared and I'm worried and he is not helping one bit. In fact he's adding to all of my stress.

I burst out of the kitchen into a large dining room that opens up into a large foyer with a winding staircase leading up to the second floor. I see Peter by the top of the stairs, disappear down the hall. I quickly follow him up the stairs, growing angrier with each step.

"Peter!" I call and still get no answer. I rush down the hall and soon find him in what I thought would be a library but seems to be a large sitting room that looks down onto the craggy steep mountain path and the small village below. He stands with his back to me, all his muscles tense and his hands in fists at his side.

I reach out and turn him to face me and he nearly jumps. "Peter, what the hell is going on?" I demand. "I want an explanation. This isn't just about the merchants is it?" He looks down at me, his face in that cold, unreadable mask that I hate so much and it makes me so angry with him I want to smack it right off his face. I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. Questioning hasn't helped me any so instead I try and give him my best cold, disappointed look which I'm very sure is not very effective.

After a few moments, Peter raises his eyebrows, slightly amused with me and says, "The stare down is not your best asset, bird." I roll my eyes. Peter sighs. "You know, I never apologized to you, like I said I would. I should have sooner," he admits. He meanders over to a chair that looks like it's being held together by a thread and sinks into it.

"I'm not sure how that's related to the merchants."

Peter shakes his head. "They're not," he says at length. "They're just both things I'm worried about at the moment."

"You don't need to worry about either of them at the moment," I try to reassure him. I still haven't gotten to the root of the issue, but we need to keep moving and now just isn't the time for Peter's apology. "I very much doubt that the merchants are following us and we'll find some time soon for your apology. For the time being, how about we go and look through the library and then we'll have a nice dinner and perhaps then we can talk about your-"

I break off mid sentence as I see a group of figures off in the very far distance, picking their way up the steep mountain path by foot. I can't make out many details from here, but the men picking their way up the mountain path certainly could be the merchants.

"My God, you were right, Peter. They are following us."

Peter looks back wildly at the merchants making their way towards the path and I can see his entire body go rigid. He stands up abruptly from the chair and turns wildly to me. "I want to apologize now," he tells me.

"What? Why? Don't you think we should go take care of them. I don't know why you're going on about the apology today of all days," I rush out, more confused than ever.

"It doesn't matter," Peter grits out. "I just want you to know about how far I've tried to come and how I'm doing better by you and how sorry I am for all the pain I've caused you-"

"Peter! Stop this right now!" I bite out. "Now is not the time for this. I wouldn't want you to apologize to me right now even if the merchants weren't here. Now, let's go down there and deal with them-"

Peter grabs out frantically and clutches my hands tightly. He holds my gaze with an intensity that I've never seen before. In his eyes I see fear and terror and it shakes me to see him like this. He's completely unhinged. "You know how much I care about you, right?" he asks, pleadingly. "And how far I've come and how hard I've tried?" I nod.

"Peter," I try and say calmly, but he's not even looking at me. His gaze in on the merchants that are swiftly making their way up the path to the mansion and I can't quite make out any particular feature and I can't figure out why, but they don't look like the merchants to me.

He turns back to me, his eye even more wild. He lets go of my hands, holding my face gently but with a demanding urgency that makes my heart beat fast.

"They don't look like the merchants-"

"I love you," he blurts out. "And you trust me. Just please remember that whatever happens." I'm completely speechless. I feel like my heart's about to spring right out of my chest, but I also know that even though he may mean what he's saying, he's saying it out of fear and anxiety and I don't want that. Before I can even tell him so, his mouth is pressed urgently on mine and even though I'd like to let him kiss me, I twist out of his arms and push him away.

"Peter, stop!" I shout. "I don't know what's going on with you but this is not acceptable! You're saying all of these things because you're terrified. And you aren't being very kind either. In fact you're being selfish." Peter stares at me, his chest heaving and his eyes wild. He doesn't make a move, just stares at me like I'm about to disappear. "Now those merchants don't actually look like what I remember of them," I say sidestepping so I can get a better look at them and Peter moves immediately to block my view, but it's too late. They're close enough for me to see now and once I recognize them, my heart drops and I feel my blood turn to ice.

"Oh my God. Those aren't the merchants. Those are the Lost Boys."

I can't even believe the words came out of my mouth, much less that they're even the truth. But that's what it is. I would recognize the last set of Lost Boys anywhere, Felix's loyal followers, the ones who made it back to Storybrooke. I can see all five of them, the nastiest ones who were on that island, the ones who I hated the most.

I look back to Peter and he looks so broken, so guilty. I can't believe that I thought he was afraid for my safety. He was afraid of getting caught. I don't know what's happening but I know Pan is at the centre of it.

"Explain yourself, Pan," I spit.

"Wendy, don't do this-"

"Explain yourself, goddamnit!" My hands are balled so tightly into fists, I'm afraid my nails might draw blood. "I don't know what the fuck is going on but I know you're the cause!"

"Bird, you've got to understand this was before-"

"I don't care! Just tell the truth for once in your entire life!"

Pan takes a shaky breath and runs his hands through his hair. His jaw clenches and I can see every muscle in his body tighten. "I was originally working with the Lost Boys," he begins. "I had been alive a little while longer before you came along. I had had time to find the Lost Boys, or for them to find me. I knew what had happened to Neal and that you'd inevitably come looking for him, with the star. So we made a plan."

I cover my hands with my face. "Fuck! I knew it! I knew from the start you had an ulterior motive and I fucking fell for the ruse again! Goddamnit!" I whip my hands off my face and glare at him.

He just seems to deflate even more. "We wanted Neverland back, and to get it back, we needed to star and the Heart of the Truest Believer," he says, so softly that it's just a whisper. His voice is so filled with shame and regret and it makes me want to scream. "And you just happened to have both."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this."

"So, I decided that I could pretend to partner up with you to get the star in exchange for helping you on the journey and along the way, I would charm you enough to get your heart, all the while the Lost Boys would follow until I had both." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "So, I positioned myself so that you would find me and I convinced you that a partnership would be best."

My breath comes in shaky spasms and I feel like the world is spinning. "It was all a lie."

"No, no, it wasn't," Pan tries to comfort. He takes a step towards me and I take three back.

"Don't you dare come near me," I spit. "I have never felt so used in my entire life." I try and collect myself enough to not dissolve into a complete maelstrom of tears and anger and cussing.

"The first little bit, I tried to pretend, but you made me doubt myself. All of myself," he says quietly. "And suddenly, I wasn't pretending anymore. And then when I saw my life in the Grey's cloak, I knew that I couldn't go through with it, knowing how I felt about you and myself and all that I had done.

"So the night that I left, that I meant the merchants, first I went and told the Lost Boys that the deal was off and that they needed to get the hell away from us. They wouldn't take no for an answer, but I may or may not have used quite a bit of force and magic and thought that all was done. And then I got drunk and picked a fight with the merchants."

"Oh my God, they said you kept calling it a heart and it had to be given out of free will. You weren't talking about the fucking star, you were talking about my heart! This entire time everything was a lie! Every single goddamn thing!" I feel like the world is slipping out from under me. I feel like I'm being tossed and tumbled around in this spinning hell. I'm afraid I might faint or throw up or cry. Instead, my stomach decides to just throw up and before I know it I'm kneeling over what hopefully must have been a garbage can, vomiting.

Pan's there immediately, holding back my hair, rubbing my back and offering me water. I push him but take the water. Once I finish dry heaving, I take a few swigs of the water, spitting it out and trying to get the sour taste out of my mouth. Hopefully, this will also get the bitterness out of my body, but no.

We sit in silence for a few moments before Peter ventures, "Now they must have caught up with us and they're going to probably try and steal the star and your heart forcefully." He sighs. "And I know there are more pressing matters at hand, but for the record, not everything was a lie."

"I can't believe you've told me all of this and you're still trying to lie straight to my face," I bite out. I can't even look at him. Instead I glare out the window at the approaching Lost Boys. "I can't believe that after all this time, I've been tricked into doing the exact same thing." I let out a bitter laugh. "A hundred years, and here I am. With my heart on the line, you lying to save Neverland and my brother's life hanging in the balance." I slam my hand down on the cool marble floor. "An entire century and I still fucking fall for the lies and the scheming!"

"Wendy, I wasn't lying when I said that I love you. I do and I've been-"

I whip back and glare at him. "Don't you dare try and even bring that up! I can't believe a single word you say! And there is no way in hell that you love me, not with what you've done to get here." I run my hands through my hair. "I thought I trusted you. Fuck. I thought I loved you. Hell. I think I might have been ready to forgive you." I shake my head. "But you are still just the same, evil, lying, scheming haven't changed one bit since the day I met you and you ruined my entire life. There is not a single good particle in your entire body. Everywhere you go and everything you do is meant to hurt someone." I let out a sharp breath. I know that what I'm about to say is cruel, but he is more cruel. "God, your mother must be turning in her grave thinking about what you've become."

Pan flinches like he's been slapped and I can see tears start to form in his eyes, threatening to burst out. "Oh no, you don't. You are not allowed to cry here. You're not the one who's been hurt here. You're always the villain and I always get fucked over by you. Every single time." I clench my hands. "I'm the one who trusted and loved you. I'm the one who got hurt." I wipe at my cheeks to find tears already there and for the umpteenth time on this journey I realize that I've already been crying.

I pause for a moment and take a deep breath. "You've completely betrayed me. You played me for a fool. You tricked me into loving you. God, you almost got my heart again. I hate you so-"

Pan moves so quickly I don't even realize he's moved before his lips are pressed firmly on mine and his hands are snaking up through my hair and-

"Get off me!" I yell against his mouth before reeling back and hitting his head with mine. He jumps off immediately but not before I slap him smartly across the mouth. "Don't you dare even touch me, you bastard!" I spring up immediately and try to make my way out of the room. I can't even stand to be near him right now.

Pan jumps up and grabs hold of my hand. I twist out of his grip.

"Please, bird," he pleads. He's looking at me like I'm his salvation thats about to crumble into pieces right before him. And maybe I am."I lied, but I'm telling you the truth now. I've broken ties with them and they're after you. I don't want to hurt you. I lo-"

I glare at him. A tear slips down his cheek, but he ignores it. His eyes are anything but icy right now. They're open and broken and so unbelievably heartbroken, it makes my own heart ache. His hair is a complete mess, falling completely out of place everywhere. His mouth is set in a deep frown. His jaw is clenched tight along with the rest of his body. He looks like he's about to shatter.

I could shatter him.

Don't be good, Wendy.

It feels like running my hands over broken glass, knowing what I'm about say to him, but he's betrayed me and ruined any chance of a relationship.

"I hate you, Peter Pan. You are my life's greatest unhappiness. Everything that you have been a part of in my entire life has just hurt me. You break everything. You bring heartache and pain everywhere. You've done that to me and to Gavin and everyone else. You're far too jagged and brittle and evil to be loved. You wouldn't have been loved by your mother. And you won't ever be loved by me."

Pan just crumbles before me. He kneels on the floor, his head in his hands as sobs wrack his body. He quivers and cries and moans on the floor and it breaks my heart to see him like this. I wish this had never happened. I wish I could have continued loving him. I wish he could have continued to grow into that kind person I thought he was.

He breaks everything. He's too jagged and brittle and evil to be loved. And if I do love him, I'll get caught on one of his sharp edges and I'll continue to be hurt by him.

I finally turn my back on him before slipping out of the room. I make my way swiftly through the house, ready to get on Ash and get the hell out of here before Peter or the Lost Boys find me.

As I'm stepping out of the kitchen into the back of the mansion, I hear a small creak and then something large and heavy comes and strikes me in the back of the head and all I know is darkness.