Finding the recipe for the curse that created the legendary Storybrooke was quite the mission, especially considering the fact that the original was in Storybrooke with the Queen – the first caster of the curse. However, nothing was impossible for the self-proclaimed king of Neverland. His lips curled upwards as he read through the list, giddy from the small victory. The giddiness didn't last too long, though. Peter's shoulders grew heavy as he read the final ingredient: the heart of the thing you love most. For a moment he was puzzled. It'd been a while since he'd thought about love, and it never even occurred to him that it was a possible emotion for him.
All of his life he'd been running from family, from friends, from attachments. All of his life had been a dance around love, never fully coming into contact with it; at least, not willingly. Peter's eyes lifted from the parchment and glanced around the camp, watching the boys play around the fire. He found it interesting how such fragile things could smile and frolic around such a dangerous thing, but then he realized that the fire was probably the least of their worries, and his shoulders sagged once more. He was afraid to love; he was afraid to show emotion. There was one person he had feelings for , though.
A crunch of leaves behind him, a shuffling of feet, and a tap on the shoulder woke Peter from his thinking. "Is everything alright?" The man arriving, Felix, asked, "It's the wrong recipe, isn't it? I told you those Darlings weren't smart boys. You should have sent someone else to go get it. I'll go beat some sense into those little brats and do it myself," Felix moved to leave once again, his gait filled with rage and his hands clenched into fists, but Peter chuckled and reached out for Felix's hand.
He grasped it in his and said: "No, that's not it, Felix."
"Then what is it?" Felix said, as Peter pulled him over to sit by him on the ground. Felix crouched to the ground, holding his knees to his chest and resting his head gently upon them as he looked into Peter's eyes, searching for some hint as to what could be troubling him. Peter avoided his gaze, looking at the ground and never letting go of Felix's hand.
He squeezed it a little bit tighter and said, "I have something I need to tell you."
Felix scooted closer to Peter and whispered, "You know you can tell me anything. I'm here for you completely." Felix gently rubbed his thumb over the back of Peter's hand as he spoke, trying to coax the secret out of Peter's lips.
"If I'm to do this curse…If I'm to live forever…I have to take your heart," Peter bit his lip at the last word, and looked into Felix's eyes. "I'm sorry."
Felix's eyes grew wider and his eyebrows lifted. "Oh," he released Peter's hand and moved his own to his knee. Peter's hand fell limp and landed in the dirt.
"I'm sorry, Felix," Peter repeated, "There's nothing else I can do. The recipe calls for the heart of the thing I love most, and-"
"You love me?" Felix asked, his neck lifting and lips fighting a grin.
"That's not the point. I have to kill you," Peter said, lowering his glance to the dirt once more in an attempt to hide his darkening cheeks.
Felix's mind raced with thoughts. There was the looming fear of death which drove his every movement, his every strike with his sword, his every strategic thought, but then there was a strange tickling in his chest: the person he fought for. His loyalty was never in question, not in his own mind, but his emotions were. He didn't have time to feel; he didn't have time to think. Finally, he decided what he needed to do. He decided how he was feeling.
"Come on, Peter. We both knew I'd have to die at some point, and there's only one thing I wouldn't mind dying for: you," Felix's lips gave in and pushed his cheeks into his eyes, unable to conceal his joy. Peter smiled, too, but continued to glare at the dirt. He couldn't meet Felix's eyes; especially not now that he knew Felix felt the same way. It was just too painful.
Felix leaned over and brushed his lips against Peter's pink cheek before whispering into his ear, "I love you, too, and if I need to die for you to get what you want, so be it." He scooted over even closer to Peter so that their sides were completely touching and grasped his hand once more. Felix rested his head on Peter's shoulder and looked over at the boys playing around the fire, completely oblivious to what was happening on the other side of camp. It was in that moment that Felix realized he had been dancing around a fire his entire life, and was just now starting to dance too close. At least he had had time to dance. At least he didn't mind the burning.