Guilt Relief
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the television series Once Upon a Time and I'm not making any money from this fic
Summary: AU (probably. I've only seen season one). Pinocchio carries a lot of guilt around about his unfaithful life. Even the curse being broken doesn't help
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for the whole of the first series of Once Upon a Time; AU; some mentions of violence
Author's Note: This is a story for the Once Upon a Time contest. It's been kicking around my head for a little while ever since I saw the prompt
Although his whole body had turned to wood, August was still conscious. He couldn't move his eyes, but he could still see out of them. They were focused on the door, where Emma had been standing... he wasn't even sure how long ago it had been.
Turning to wood was actually really uncomfortable. In his mind, August likened it to having an itch you couldn't scratch. He was locked completely in place, his mind the only part of him that was working. This was worse than when he'd been a wooden puppet. At least then, he could still move around.
The ripple that passed through the town when the curse was broken swept through August, but that alone wasn't enough to revert him back to living flesh. But when the purple cloud of magic hit him, it seemed to seep into the wood that formed his body. When it dissipated, August realised that, for the second time in his life, his body was no longer made of wood, but flesh.
For a moment, all August could do was just lie there, revelling in the fact that he could now move... or choose to move. After pushing himself up from the bed, he checked to make sure his body was now completely back to normal, relieved that there was no sign of wood anywhere.
August was kind of surprised that they were still in Storybrooke, but he didn't let that thought bother him for long. Emma knew who she was - and he had a very good idea that she might need help. Maybe he could offer it and further redeem himself. He wasn't made out of wood any longer, but that didn't mean everything was all right.
And if he couldn't find Emma, August wanted to find his father... even though he was certain to be disappointed in him.
August headed to the door of his apartment and opened it.
His father was standing there, one hand raised to knock. August stared at Geppetto, feeling frozen in place. Before he could react, however, the older man moved, pulling him into a tight embrace.
August blinked back the tears that began to fill his eyes. It had been a long time since he'd last cried and he wasn't about to start now. However, he did wrap his arms around his father, realising just how much he'd missed Geppetto over the years.
"I'm glad you're here," Geppetto said quietly, not loosening his hold on August.
"I'm sorry." August had thought about this moment a lot - more so since coming back to Storybrooke. There were all sorts of excuses he could try to offer, but as he stood there, they all died on his lips.
Since coming to this world, no one had been able to take Geppetto's place; not that there was anyone who'd tried. August had tried to convince himself that he didn't need it - that losing his father hadn't left a hole inside him. Until today, he'd almost believed it.
"Do you know what happened?" Geppetto asked.
"Not exactly," August answered. "Something made Emma start believing and she came here to ask me for help, but..." He hesitated. "I was turning to wood."
"Pinocchio." It was just one word, but laced with a whole wealth of disappointment.
August felt his stomach clench. "I broke my promise to you and I failed our world. I'm sorry."
Geppetto shook his head, his hold on August tightening. "The curse has been broken."
"But that wasn't my doing. And we haven't been able to go home." As much as he tried to ignore his guilt, it still weighed heavily on him. He'd failed to make sure Emma grew up believing the truth - and the curse could easily have never been lifted.
Geppetto pulled back slightly so that he could look into August's eyes. As if he had come to some kind of decision, Geppetto nodded and then let go of August before taking hold of his wrist.
It had been a number of years since this had happened, but August remembered how his father had reacted when he'd done something wrong in the past. Part of him wanted to pull away, but the rest of him trusted his father and knew that, no matter what Geppetto had planned, he'd never hurt him.
Walking over to the bed August had been lying on only moments before, Geppetto sat down and pulled August across his lap in one swift movement.
August's hands shot out to catch his balance, but he didn't try to push himself up, even when Geppetto tugged his trousers down and followed them with his boxers.
August shivered, though it wasn't all that cold in the room. His bared backside prickled slightly as Geppetto rested a hand on it, a feeling that was at once terrible and familiar.
The first sharp slap landed at the crest of August's bottom and he jumped, surprised at how much it stung. Just as the sting faded from the first swat, another landed on the other side of his backside.
Geppetto settled quickly into a rhythm and August was dismayed to realise that time hadn't dulled the strength of his father's arm - or made his father's spankings any less painful or thorough. Every inch of August's backside was covered with the stinging, burning swats that only seemed to build on themselves as Geppetto's hard hand covered areas that had already been gone over. His sit spots and thighs weren't spared in the assault and a few well-placed swats to those more sensitive areas made his legs jerk as he tried not to kick.
The burning behind August's eyes caused some tears to begin falling. The terrible weight of the guilt finally began to lessen, however, as he felt the first sob catch in his throat.
After what felt like an age, Geppetto finally stopped, resting his hand on August's lower back. When August had been a child, Geppetto had always pulled him into his arms after a punishment, letting him cry it out in his father's arms. This time, he just rubbed slow, soothing circles on August's back.
It took a while, but August's tears finally died down. In a way, it was comforting to be over his father's lap, but he couldn't quite bring himself to stay there and he pushed himself up, pulling up his boxers and trousers before carefully sitting on the bed next to Geppetto.
Geppetto wrapped his arm around August's shoulders and gently pulled him in close. "I am not angry with you, my son. All I can do is be happy to have you here with me."
August sighed and just leaned his head against Geppetto's shoulder. He didn't feel that his redemption was over, but for now, he was content to just let his father's touch comfort him.
The End