Title: The Son of a Woodworker
Chapter Title: Built That Way
Characters: August W. Booth & Emma Swan
Summary: As season 2 takes flight, August has been separated from Emma, left to his own demons, and Emma is simply just trying to get home. A series of "behind-the-scenes" looks, with chapters for each episode. The first chapters in this series are already posted One-Shots Blink, Embers and Shelter.
Warnings: T for language and content to be safe, also... bring Kleenex. There's a lot of August whump I sense coming this season. Themes being regret and redemption, so I expect August!Whump.
Author's Note: So, to no one's surprise, after Tallahassee, this has actually inspired me to write more, mainly because I'm really not sure if Adam and Eddy and I are talking anymore, or if I need to stalk them to make sure they don't get rid of August. For my full and complete views on Tallahassee and the treatment of August, please see my tumblr, which I think most of you already follow me on. What this episode revealed about August's character is highly risky on the part of the writers. It actually inspired the chapter title. But, while risky, it's also beautifully in character and I think just makes him actually MORE sympathetic if you look at the fact that that was 10 years ago. And then look at August at the end of season one. TOTALLY different guy. With the same... lack of willpower OH BB. The theme of season two is regret and redemption, and I am so on course with that. Anyway, from now on, the one shots will all be here. NEW READERS: IF you're just finding this, awesome! Thank you for enjoying my fic! That being said, this is actually where the rest of a series will be going. The first three chapters are Blink, Embers and Shelter, but since I'd already posted them as one-shots, I didn't want to tick of by double-posting them in here. Please be sure to read those first, then come back here for season 2 Wooden Swan goodness.
2nd Author's Note: This one is going to hit you RIGHT in the Geppetto family feels, and RIGHT in the Built that Way Feels. That is what I am now calling August making chronically bad decisions.
How is he supposed to be honest to the woman he identifies as, well, his mother... when the truth would hurt so deeply?
August has never had a mother. He doesn't understand what it would be like to have one emotionally, but, he supposes that the technical aspect makes sense. If he looks at the technical sense, then... his mother is the Blue Fairy. She gave him life. And he knows of no greater good power than the blue fairy. Regardless of what he's found in this world, he has never and probably will never meet a power as great as the pure power of fairies, which comes from a place of love for the greater good. He knows if he can just be brave, tell the Blue Fairy... there's magic in Storybrooke, she can bring Emma and Snow White home.
Of course, that's what makes this all the more terrifying. She had been the first to tell his father he couldn't send August through the wardrobe, and his father had done it anyway. His father's last words still echo in his mind as August slips in through the side entrance of the convent at dusk.
But, you told me to be honest, father. You told me not to lie.
Sometimes, you lie to protect the people you love. You must look out for the child.
It is the only way we'll see each other again.
August's hand goes to his wooden features, covering his eyes as he tries to shake away the thoughts of just how deeply he's failed his father. The convent is dark and quiet. He hasn't seen any of the fairies since he's arrived, and frankly, he doesn't even know if they're still here. If there is magic, they might have moved on, found a new place to dwell.
All the questions and concerns running through August's head just make it impossible to concentrate. Part of him wants to turn around, go back to the stables and talk to Henry, but he's already ruled that out. He has to get Emma back. For Henry.
It's why you sent the postcard, too. A small voice reminds him. He'd been in such a state at the time, when he'd blown past the post office to pick up the postcard on his way out of town, August hadn't really been sure what he'd done. Had he sent the postcard? He's still trying to figure out how he found that bird…
There'd been a very selfish part of him, a part of him he knows just all too well, that told him not to send it. Neal doesn't deserve Emma. No one deserves her. Especially not me. But she deserves a happy ending. If he's it…
August isn't sure why his mind keeps drifting back over a decade while he sticks close to the shadows, looking for the Mother Superior's office. After years of getting caught up in just trying to make ends meet, when August thought he was ready, he'd gone to find her. Why he thought at 15 she would have been ready for what he had to say, August couldn't possibly recall now. He knows now that given the fervent denial she had of everything she'd seen, things would have been no different whether she was 15 or 17 or 21 or 25. Emma's stubborn. She had needed something threatened that mattered far more than any boyfriend or screwed up failed guardian angel.
Some angel. He's doing an awesome job. What kind of angel disappears like he does, gets caught up in every stupid vice that comes along? Who the hell did he even think he was, calling himself that? Well, you know what they say. The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Wow. That's August in a nutshell. Every time he tries to do the right thing, something will come along to distract him. You realize this is why you needed a cricket as your freakin' conscience, right?
August is so distracted he misses the sound of approaching footsteps behind him until they're right there.
"Can I help you?" It's her.
August swallows, and suddenly every part of his body wants to shake and shiver until there's nothing left. He'd thought explaining things to his father would be different enough, but... this is the Blue Fairy. She'd given him three impossible words to live up to. And in this world with pleasures unlike anything the world has ever seen, it is so easy to lose track of time. And August knows he's fundamentally built that way. Easy to lose track of time. Easy to distract. You're not anyone's Protector, regardless of how you try to claim that title now.
"Is... Mister Booth, is that you?" So, she still remembers the identity he's provided her all this time. Maybe there's a chance. She hasn't called him - "Pinocchio..." Oh.
August swallows again, but it's harder than it was before. So, instead he tries to collect his thoughts, as scattered as they are. He has been telling himself ever since he left the stables that he is willing to do whatever it takes to save Emma and Snow, to bring their family back together. He knows there's a part of him wanting it because he's selfish. He wants to see his father again and he can't do it until he's... better. But that's not really why he wants it. He doesn't want Henry to have to grow up without his mother. Not after he's found her.
"Pinocchio, please look at me?" She doesn't sound angry. She sounds... worried? Comforting?
August lets out a breathless, mirthless chuckle. "I'm not so sure that's the best idea." He mutters, and his control is already starting to break. He doesn't have the anonymity he's been able to use to his advantage for the last year. He doesn't have the ability to just say he wants to be an apprentice.
"Please?" It's so quiet, it's just that one word. August doesn't know how to say no to it. He's never been taught. He was never built to have a mother; he doesn't know what that pull on his heart really means.
If August is crying, he doesn't know. He hasn't been wooden in so long that it's like rediscovering his body all over again. He knows he feels like it. The shame, the weight of everything he's done is threatening to swallow him.
Yet, his feet move, and he slowly pivots to face her. His face, he's sure, is covered in darkness as the last of the twilight fades in the windows of the hallway.
But, that doesn't faze her. Even in the conservative, oh-so-different garb she's worn for 28 years, it still looks just like her. Those eyes, that smile. It's the Blue Fairy. And he's just the stupid boy who took her gift and completely squandered it. "Look at you..." She takes a step closer, and August turns his head, trying to keep it together.
"Yeah, that's the problem." He says in a rush of air, chuckling a little. "As you can tell, I might've, um... might've failed your last exam there."
The disappointment is evident in her voice the moment she speaks, and August can feel his heart shredding. And she's not even his father. He can't imagine how this would be with his father. "This world has many temptations, and you gave in, but, I'm sure you tried, Pinocchio – "
"Please, don't." August's voice is tight, controlled. He's trying so hard to stay in one piece, to remind himself why he's really here. "I'm not that boy anymore." I'm worse.
"No, that's the point. You are." Even though August tries to move away again, it's too late, and she has his hand in her grasp, pulling the sleeve of his jacket up enough that she can see the polished wood. "I'm so sorry that Geppetto sent you here. You were never meant to carry that burden. No one could have expected that you..." She trails off, but it's obvious what she wants to say. No one can expect the pathological jackass to succeed at protecting The Savior.
"You don't understand. I didn't... I could've tried harder."
"But, you tried, that's part of being human." Right. He tried. He screws up her life once or twice to scare her straight. And then he loses track of time. "You left her when you were a little boy, no one could fault you."
A little boy. Right.
August slips the cash into his jacket pocket, then turns back to Neal. "I'll send you a postcard."
Even though Neal is satisfied with the answer, August isn't sure he plans to keep that promise or not. What does he care? This guy's been leading Emma down a path of nothing but thievery and conning. Not exactly befitting of the Savior.
Even as Neal leaves the car, and August drives it back down to Portland, where he can leave it in the storage unit he's been given, August knows that Emma doesn't need the ill-gotten gains from the theft of the watches. He's not perfect. Hell, he doesn't even know Emma, but he does know that she has a very set path in life, and being in lust with some thief would mean everyone who's been cursed will stay that way forever. His father. Her parents.
August feels remorse for the way he's handled it even as he drops the car off and checks his phone. If he tries to get close to her after prison, maybe it'll work out. But, honestly? August doesn't know how he's supposed to talk to her.
His bookie is calling. August has been avoiding him for two years now, ever since he's gotten his act together to find Emma. He still owes 20 grand on his gambling debts from his decidedly more wayward youth.
Neal gave him 20 grand. And Emma shouldn't have the money in the first place.
And six months later, in some bar in Phuket, stinking of booze and suntan lotion, August is sandwiched between two nameless, curvaceous girls while he plays a hand of poker. His bookie needs interest. It's 40 grand now, not 20.
If he can just win this hand, he'll win it all back. And by now, what, Emma should be out of jail. He'll go touch base with her, try to prepare her for… hang on, is that a Jack of Diamonds? He needs that.
If he can just win this hand, he'll win it all back.
But… of course, he never does.
"My father gave me a job to do, and I screwed it up." August's voice is raw and scratchy as he speaks, but he's not sure if it's from anger, sadness, or fear. "I'm sorry. I was supposed to be there for her. I get that now."
The Blue Fairy smiles again, but it fades when August wrenches his arm free. He doesn't want to be touched. Or coddled. Or comforted. Their forgiveness means nothing to him if he can't redeem himself for Emma. It's not their lives he screwed up, it's hers.
Goddammit, why can't he stop thinking about Phuket?
"Look, I'm not here about me, okay?" That sounds bizarre coming out of his mouth, because he knows it's not a normal thing for him to say. Well, to say it and mean it. "I'm alive, that means there's magic. Here. In Storybrooke."
"Pinocchio – "
"August. "
"August." The Blue Fairy holds her hands up to stop him before he goes on a tear. "Yes, there is magic in Storybrooke – "
"Then get Emma and Snow White back here. You can do it, I know you can. The fairies have the most powerful magic our world has seen." August doesn't realize how fervently he's pleading until he grabs her hands, pulling them close. "Look, I'm me. I have a body, I'm alive, I should be dead. If that can happen, then getting them back from wherever they've been sent should be easy."
There's silence as August waits, like the hopeful, terrified, messed up boy he really is deep down.
The hope fades from his features as the Blue Fairy simply shakes her head. "It's not, August. I am so sorry."
At first, he doesn't believe what he hears. He's living, breathing proof of magic in this world. "What?"
"While Emma and Snow White may be in the Enchanted Forest, we have no way of getting them back." The Fairy's words are measured, the tone reminds him all too well of the line she sold Snow and Charming when he was a boy, about how the wardrobe could handle only one. Is she lying to him? "We Fairies still don't have fairy dust. Our magic comes from fairy dust and our wands. Without one or the other, we cannot return either of them."
August blinks, and then takes a step back. He needs to think, needs to breathe. "Unbelievable…" No fairy magic. He never even considered it, and now? He doesn't have a plan. This can't be the only option. He has to fix this. "So, then how am I alive? I should be wooden. If you knew the things I'd done – "
"Rumplestiltskin brought magic to this world," The Fairy waves his comment off. Like a mother would, but he just doesn't know to respond to that. "But it's unpredictable. It doesn't work the way it should."
"Rumplestiltskin." August breathes. The gravity of the situation settles over him. He's going to have to go to him. Just like that, August is thinking like his old self. If he has to go to the bad guy, fine, sure, as long as it saves Emma, gets her back here. "That's it." August starts to walk past her, and the Blue Fairy follows him. He can hear her quick steps behind him.
"Wait, Pinocchio, don't! You don't know what he'd ask of you, you don't even know if he wants to do it. Or if he can."
August sighs, turning to look at the Blue Fairy, putting his hands on her shoulders, ignoring their wooden creak as his wrists move. "I took advantage of him once. I owe him. If he can do this for me, I'll pay whatever price he asks."
"Don't, August. You are not prepared for that."
August smiles a little, swallowing and pulling away. She doesn't understand. How could she? She's never really been human. She's never had to live with the things he has. "Believe me, the price would be worth it. Just promise me. If you see my father, you never saw me." August begins to backpedal, still facing the Fairy, giving her a firm point.
"You never saw me."
Those good intentions might very well lead him to hell. But, at least he can make Emma happy. He tries not to think about how much losing her could hurt, tries not to think about how much time he wasted without ever truly realizing how important she would be to him.
He made this bed. He has to lay in it.
He's just built that way.