Title: Unblinking
Word Count: 1,262
Summary: ''Oh captain my captain' the Saviour had mocked, cutting over yet another affirmation that he wasn't going to betray Pan. He hadn't understood what exactly about the phrase was supposed to be insulting.' or, Felix tries to come to terms with the fact his great and fearless leader is now in the body of an eleven year old.
Relationships: Panlix
Rating: K
Warnings: Spoilers for 3x09, slash, mention of past violence.
Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time nor the characters from it, nor do I own the actors who portray them; this has been written without their knowledge or permission with the intention of entertainment and personal writing practice.
Notes: This is what I do when I should be paying attention to my university lectures. Enjoy, I guess. Title from the phrase 'unblinking loyalty' and because it's a little bit punny in light of the first line. And I do like my puns.
He couldn't stop staring.
It was reminiscent of the early days, when the Lost Boys were new to Neverland as a whole, newly rescued and still reluctant to believe any of Pan's promises were true. Then, Felix had watched with furtive, considering glances from beneath his hood. He'd watched to learn details; to gather knowledge, to understand every micro-expression, every smirk and reckless burst of laughter. It had been half curiousity - and who wouldn't be curious about a boy who claimed you never aged on his island, who had rescued half a dozen boys from dangerous situations and asked only that they return home with him in exchange? - and half self preservation. If he could understand this strange, impossible boy, he could see if he was going to turn against them. He never did; but during the first couple of years, Felix watched and prepared.
Now he couldn't stop staring.
His eyes were locked on Pan, on his leader - 'oh captain my captain' the Saviour had mocked, cutting over yet another affirmation that he wasn't going to betray Pan. He hadn't understood what exactly about the phrase was supposed to be insulting, apart from the obvious mocking tone of voice - and he was searching for clues.
He was looking for traits in the dark haired eleven year old before him that were reminiscent of the smirking teenager he thought he lost.
'Henry' didn't look back at him. The boy was making a show of listening attentively to the Saviour and her mother as they advised him how to use the knife they were leaving with him properly. He'd asked to guard Felix in the Captain's Quarters, all wide pleading eyes and not-quite-whispered affirmations that he could get Felix to 'see sense' if they left them alone together.
The knife was for their piece of mind more than 'Henry's'.
"Just keep it relatively low; if he comes at you his momentum will do all the work for you." Felix could see 'Henry's' expression start to shift involuntarily, the corner of his mouth just starting to turn down in disapproval; and so he spoke up, stealing the attention of the women and giving 'Henry' time to school his features.
"Actually, he'd be better off getting behind me and aiming for my kidneys. Or under the arm. Or even just generally aiming for my heart. If he was to stab me in the stomach I'd still be able to strangle him, or even get the knife for myself." He met their sharp looks with a smirk, a corner of his mouth curling up into a sarcastic approximation of his usual expression. Emma's voice was short when she replied.
"Are you planning to try and kill him?" Felix offered her a heavily patronising look, and gestured to his surroundings with a sweep of his hand.
"Where would I run?" She and her mother looked nothing much more than frustrated with his attitude - he was playing it up, really, almost forgetting he was supposed to still believe Pan's trapped in the box Rumpelstiltskin had tossed from hand to hand gleefully back on deck - but accepted the reasoning, murmuring farewells to the boy they thought was their son and grandson before disappearing up the steps.
And Felix went back to staring.
'Henry's' eyes remained on the stairs for a while, giving the most loyal Lost Boy the opportunity to watch his fingers curling into fists on top of the blankets; before he glanced back at the blonde teenager sprawled out on the floor.
The look he offered Felix was heavily patronising, and had he not known it was really Peter looking at him through different eyes he would have been impressed by the sheer gall it took to look at someone like that.
As it was, Felix just smirked, amused.
"What." 'Henry's' voice was flat, unamused; and Felix snorted softly.
"You. You're letting them get to you. When they were attempting to give you self defence tips your expression slipped; they would have noticed if I hadn't spoken up." Pan rolled his eyes, before his expression hardened.
"It was bad advice they were giving. Henry doesn't know a thing about how to fight with knives, and their 'tips' wouldn't fix that; just get him killed, probably." Felix's response was amused.
"You do have some strong opinions about teaching Lost Boys how to fight." Pan and Felix grinned at each other, both recalling the scar marking Devin's forearm - the result of when he'd purposefully given a group of new Lost Boys substandard lessons in sword play so they'd be terrible when tested and he could laugh at them. Peter had found out and challenged him to a fight; when given the choice 'face or arm' he'd picked arm, and Peter had obliged, a permanent reminder for the rebellious Lost Boy not to risk the safety of his fellows for the sake of a joke - before Pan leant back against the wall of the cabin, his expression suddenly soft and pensive.
The expression was out of place on Henry's features. Henry frowned, or looked worried when he was thinking. His features didn't soften like that; he didn't look so absent, almost vulnerable.
"Did none of the others speak up?" The question was confusing for a moment; before it sunk in what Peter meant, and Felix's eyes slid shut, his head thumping back against the wall behind him.
"They're all traitors." He offered, his own anger at their betrayal seeping into his tone of voice. The silence that followed was telling, before Peter spoke, tone of voice final.
"Then we don't need them." He stated; and Felix smiled, eyes staying shut.
He listened as Peter shifted, before speaking again, quiet and musing.
"Ruffio would have stayed loyal." Peter dropped to sit beside Felix, replying just as quietly, close to Felix's ear and fierce.
"We'll still make Hook pay for what he did to him." The impossible boy promised; and Felix opened his eyes, turning to look at him.
Henry's face was mere inches away, but the look in his eyes was all Peter Pan, furious and determined and as loyal to his Lost Boys as they were to him when at their best.
Felix swallowed thickly.
"You're not you right now, remember?" He reminded him; though the words doubled as a personal reminder, that Peter was in the body of an eleven year old, that he was currently smaller and more fragile than usual, that he probably tasted differently right now too and acting on the old habits that usually followed such fierce promises would make any possible future encounters with the Truest Believer unbearably awkward, and that if they went ahead anyway their current luck would probably cause someone to walk in on them, which would be especially difficult to explain.
Peter sighed and shifted so he was sprawled beside Felix, expression verging on petulant.
"I'll fix that, as soon as this spell on Henry's heart is gone." He muttered; and Felix smirked briefly.
He was startled when he felt a hand slip into his, small and cold and unfamiliar; but he relaxed quickly enough, keeping his eyes forward and squeezing softly in acknowledgement and appreciation of the gesture.
They were silent for a while, before Felix spoke again.
"Henry frowns when he's thinking. You don't. Someone might notice." Peter was quiet for a moment, the lack of speech a silent appreciation for Felix admitting, however subtly, how much he watched him.
"I'll work on that."
His fingers tightened on Felix's briefly.
Please leave a review; don't just read or favourite.