Title: Son of a Woodworker

Chapter Title: What Is Lost

Setting: Set during 2x08

Author's Note: Hi, guys! Sorry for the delay, but I've been working on Heavy Metal Lover (which, if you check out my AO3 or my LJ, you can find it there, so go read that hot stuff!) and I finished a chapter of Born on a Monday. That being said, I'm going to carry this particular fic through 2x09. It will end on an open note, and here's why: I'm gonna be starting another fic that's going to be angsty and dramatic and all tons of Wooden Swan, but it's also a future!fic, so I can work at whatever pace I feel like and want to plan it during winter hiatus. Given that it's winter hiatus and we still don't have a clue where August is, I want to end Son of a Woodworker on a somewhat cliffhanger note to match the winter hiatus, and then when the show picks back up, I should be able to as well to still run the subplot in my head. What was a book, I'm sorry, I just wanted to keep everyone in the loop because I'm OCD like that.

2nd Author's Note: I realize that there is something I probably should say now. If it turns out that we find out August has been like, in Jiminy's office or Geppetto's workshop from day one, I will probably wind up wrapping this for a while and shelving it until the season is DONE, then I will come back and finish it. I prefer if something's out of continuity, that I know going in, so it's only fair that if that's the case, I come back and state it's slightly AU to Season 2. ANYWAY. SHUTTING UP NOW.

Warnings: Um, below lies some serious Geppetto family feels. You might… ugh, I dunno, you might need a towel or seven for all the crying, because I cried writing this. I didn't expect it to hurt so much.


You never know who will walk in.

"His hat. My boy, he would never go anywhere without his hat."

Every conversation starts this way. Archie… Jiminy… he's come to expect it.

Every morning, it's always the same. The old man once known as Marco, who knew only the loss of children he never had, gets up and works in his garage, then heads to the office occupied by his oldest friend and sometimes oldest enemy.

Geppetto is sitting on the same spot on Jiminy's couch he always does, clutching the one artifact that seems to survive even through the darkest of times. A little red cap slides between his fingers as he keeps turning the one thing he has of his boy, staring at it idly. He doesn't sleep except when his body forces him to.

Some days, that is all he ever says. He walks in, takes his seat, starts with Jiminy: "His hat" and the rest of the hour is spent in silence as the carpenter runs his fingers lovingly along the brim of the little red cap, so battered, but yet still in such good condition. The little feather tickles Geppetto's calloused fingers, and he finds himself swallowing back a lump in his throat, reminded of how it would feel to have his boy hug him, that feather brushing his cheek.

The silent days are the worst. He wants to speak, but he can think of nothing. At first, the thoughts are slow, a trickle of worry here, a thought of elation for his son's survival there. Then, they begin to come faster, in greater frequency. Where is he? Is he safe? Is he eating and taking care of himself?

The thoughts keep turning through Geppetto's mind as he keeps hold of that cap, slumped in the corner of the couch. How did he keep up with the family trade? Why did he not try to see him sooner?

What kind of man has he become?

And then the reminder sets in. His apprentice. August. The man he had barely begun to know, who had seemed so stiff and weak at times, looking at Marco with such… adoration.

Henry's words whispered in his ear, like so many secrets from his dear Pinocchio in the past.

August is Pinocchio.

August is his precious, dear boy.

And he is gone. He has left and Geppetto has no idea where. All he has left is this cap… This one precious thing that has travelled with his boy everywhere in the old world and this new one.

Why would he leave it now? Perhaps he hates him now. Perhaps he is so angry with him for leaving him here alone, he wants to forget. Like every day that Geppetto sits in the office of his oldest friend, he refuses to see the hope that led him to seek out a son in this marionette in the first place.

All he knows is his boy left his hat. He needs to get it back to him somehow.

I don't think I became the man he wanted me to be.

This isn't the first time, and it certainly won't be the last, but the memories have overwhelmed the man. The tears spill over his cheeks at the loss, the realization that he has disappointed his son, leaving him in this horrible, terrible world all alone, entrusting him with something he couldn't possibly do.

Geppetto clutches the cap tighter, threatening to crush it in his fingers as his tears turn to honest sobs. It seems today will be one of those days where he lets the loss of his son, the hopelessness of the situation tear him apart, with no end in sight.

While his boy hasn't been gone for long, it has been 28 years since Geppetto has held his boy. 28 years since he told his boy to be strong, to protect Emma.

And his boy has had 28 years to take all of that responsibility, the weight of guilt and the fate of the land on his shoulders.

It's too much. It's always too much. This father knows he will never be able to apologize to his son. He never truly expected him to succeed. It had been a foolish, foolish dream of a scared old man.

The sobs wrack his body harder as he lets himself sink into that place where his son never comes home, where he cannot find him, and he's left alone with his own choices. There is no way to describe the physical anguish that takes hold of him in these moments. Everything about this world seems to make pain even more raw than what he knows to be true. His chest clenches painfully, and he finds himself brought right back to the brink of his first terrifying experience without his son.

The night has fallen. Where is Pinocchio? Where is Jiminy? That cricket is supposed to be watching his son, where has the boy gone?

Geppetto takes the walk to the village school at twice the pace he normally does, ignoring the fact that his chest burns. A new emotion has taken root there. Worry, panic, the sense of terror only a father can have for his son's welfare.

It is at the sight of one of the village boys, holding a torch as he walks from the butcher closing up shop for the night, that Geppetto feels relief. Perhaps he has seen his boy.

"Have you seen my boy? Have you seen Pinocchio?" The child hasn't, and before Geppetto realizes it, he has begun to ask relentlessly with every child he has seen. That weight, that new fear, has continued to grow and swell. He simply doesn't know what to do with it, even as he tries to tell himself all will be fine. He has barely had his son for a week, and suddenly, he is gone? He was to go to school with the other boys.

No one has seen his boy.

Before he knows it, Geppetto is bolting through the village, calling for his boy. With each shout, the desperation becomes clearer. As he reaches the edge of the village, spent, winded, and his vision clouded with tears, Geppetto is lost.

He sinks to his knees, crying his boy's name.

But he hasn't come home.

Geppetto feels the weight of his friend's hand on his arm, and the old, broken man looks up, surprised from his unabashed bawling.

Unlike the other days, though, Jiminy is not remaining a silent counterpart in front of the carpenter, waiting for resolution that will not come until father and son are reunited.

"Geppetto. He is going to come back home." The voice is still the one he remembers on his shoulder, but there are still no words to help assuage Geppetto's sorrow.

"When?" He whispers, his eyes searching his old friend's human face, a face he has spent 28 years with, but at once, hasn't seen since he was a child. "How could I be such a fool, Jiminy?" Geppetto sits up. "I should have built the wardrobe faster. If I had been faster, if I had not been so… so selfish trying to teach Pinocchio everything, my boy could have had the Queen's help. The two of them could have gone together, they would have been together and my boy wouldn't have had to grow up alone." The tears fall faster, and he blinks stupidly, reaching up to wipe them away. It's almost a shock. "He grew up with no one! I left him to care for a baby. Alone. I have no right to be his father!"

Jiminy's hands reach for the cap. He pulled back instinctively, but as he glimpses down to it. Geppetto's heart skips a beat painfully as he realizes he had held the velvet cap so tightly, he has begun to ruin its shape. A horrified little noise leaves his lips, but Jiminy takes it and smoothes it out with care.

He can't even care for the cap of his precious little boy any longer. Hope seems so far away again.

"Geppetto…" Jiminy's voice is soothing, especially as he watches the man finish reshaping the cap, then put it aside just out of arms reach. "You did what you thought was best for your son." He reaches up, pulling his glasses off so he can rub his eyes. "Regardless of how it turned out, you are his father, and you did what you could. We both have enough regret to live a lifetime, but…" Jiminy folds his hands in front of him, glasses hanging by one of the temples. "You… you can't focus on the past. You have to live in the present."

"And how am I supposed to do that, eh?" Geppetto's voice is surly, he feels anger begin to well up at Jiminy's assumption that things could be so easy. "I don't know where he is! My boy is out there! For all we know, he has crossed the town line." And there's the crux of it. That is the real fear Geppetto has. If they cannot cross the line, he cannot follow after, and he might never see his son again.

"He hasn't." Jiminy's voice is firm. "I don't believe he would. Geppetto… you have to have faith."

"In what?" He scoffs, wanting to let the anger take hold.

"Your son kept his promise, didn't he? He came back. He did what you asked him to, even with that monumental weight on his shoulders." Jiminy smiles a little, unfazed by the anger. "So have faith in him. He found you once."

Geppetto stops, and he finds himself playing words in his head all over again.

I made him a promise – a long time ago. By the time I got around to making good on it, I think I was too late.

But you kept your promise. You realized your mistake and you tried to fix it. That's important.

"If I had a son…" Geppetto whispers, finishing the memory as his vision blurs once more. "That would be enough for me."

Jiminy has heard the story of August's visit to Marco's garage before. He must know why Geppetto's eyes have clouded.

"He said he wanted to fix things." Geppetto glances up at his friend, swallowing back tears. Faith in his son, he said. The hope seems to be welling up even while he thinks it shouldn't. "He was sick. He was hurting."

"No son ever wants to leave their father forever." Jiminy's voice is heavy. "No matter how much bad blood is between them." Geppetto is only barely listening now.

He stands, taking the cap with one hand as he wipes his face clean with the other. "Then it is my turn."

"Turn?" Jiminy stands as well. The hour isn't over, it breaks the cycle they've been following.

"He found me. Now it is time I find him." Geppetto feels renewed, reaches over and pats Jiminy's shoulder. "Because that is what family does. We find each other."