Felix x Reader (From Once Upon a Time)

Chapter 7

Felix shifted Y/N slightly on his back, and for a moment—only a moment—his hand hovered near hers. He felt a warm tremble from her tired and slumped form, and he thought to take hold of it. He shook his head and thought again.

"You know where to take them," I told Felix.

Felix nodded, his gaze flicking once more to Y/N's still form before he turned and vanished into the forest, his footsteps soundless. The boy with Henry followed.

"NO! HENRY!" Neal shouted, his voice echoing in the trees as he struggled against the boys holding him. "I'M ALIVE!"

"Oh, don't worry," I said softly, stepping into the dark behind him. "It won't be for long."

His shouts faded as I disappeared into the mist.

"Just until I reset the board," I murmured. "Because now, the game is about to change.

~Shot time skippy~

Y/n's POV:

The world blurred as I came to, slowly surfacing from a sleep I hadn't chosen. My limbs were heavy, like I'd been pulled from the bottom of the ocean and laid out on dry land without the strength to move. The fire crackled beside me—its soft glow the only sign that time had passed at all.

Henry stirred next to me, his small frame shifting as he groggily blinked up at the stars.

"What the heck...?" I mumbled, rubbing the ache in my temple. "It's like we were asleep for five minutes—but I never felt tired."

Everything looked... exactly the same. The fire still burned in a perfect circle. The Lost Boys still danced wildly, their laughter twining with the night wind like a haunting melody. The same song. The same rhythm.

Something wasn't right.

Henry yawned, rubbing his eyes. "What happened?"

And then came the footsteps. Rhythmic. Confident. Him.

Peter emerged from the trees as if he'd always been watching.

"You both fell asleep," he said casually, as though that were something ordinary here.

"I did?" Henry asked, brows drawn. "I don't remember—"

"Just a little cat nap," Peter said with a smile too sharp to be sincere. "The night is still young."

I sat up slowly, dizziness curling at the edges of my vision. My hands felt cold. My chest—tight.

What did you do to us? I wanted to scream it, but instead, I glanced around the camp. The fire cast flickering shadows across the boys' faces. Most of them were caught in the dance, their eyes glassy with joy that didn't look entirely real. But one of them... wasn't.

Felix.

He sat alone at the edge of the firelight, flipping a dagger into the air and catching it by the hilt each time with practiced ease. But it wasn't habit—it was distraction. His gaze was unfocused. Distant. His jaw set in a way that made me wonder what he was thinking. About me? About all of this?

I couldn't say.

"Wait," Henry said suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts. "I remember something."

Peter tilted his head, intrigued.

"When I was asleep... I thought I heard my dad. Calling for me."

"Really?" Peter asked, voice low and almost too interested.

"Yeah. But it must have been a dream," Henry said, uncertain.

Peter's eyes gleamed. "How can you be sure?"