On the Wings of an Angel Chapter 2: One Family, a disney fanfic

ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL

Holy mackerel, I can't believe how long it's been since I updated this thing! It's been, like, forever! Well, never you fear; like I always say, I may be slow, but I've never given up on a story yet!

Boy, I can't tell you how much I missed writing about Terence and Pinocchio, and I can't tell you how wonderful it feels to get back into this.

Characters (with exceptions) © Disney

Lyrics © The Sherman Brothers

Story © unicorn-skydancer08

Chapter 2: One Family

Pinocchio loved his new home.

Terence, who had somehow managed to get his hands on a small fortune, had purchased an elegant little house for them near the country, where there was plenty of sunshine and fresh air, flowers and green grass, and everything.

Their house was not what some would call a palace, but it was definitely a great deal nicer than the humble cottage Pinocchio used to share with Geppetto. There was a fruit orchard in the backyard, along with a vegetable patch and a small pump for drawing water. The house itself was very cozy and as neat as a pin. Aside from Terence and Pinocchio, the house was also the abode to a small, anthropomorphic cricket named Jiminy, who was Pinocchio's conscience and very good friend. When Terence and Pinocchio came into the kitchen for breakfast, Jiminy was already perched on the dining table, next to the bowl of fruit that usually sat there.

Figaro, the cat, was there, too. On the other side of the room, Cleo, the goldfish, was swimming about contentedly in her bowl.

Both Figaro and Cleo had once belonged to Pinocchio when he was living with his father. Then, when Geppetto died, Pinocchio was separated from his pets, and it was through sheer luck that they were together again today. Terence and Pinocchio had discovered Figaro in the streets the same night that Pinocchio became a real boy. Not long afterward, they stumbled across Cleo in a fish market. Cleo was dangerously close to becoming fish food when they found her, but Pinocchio had begged and pleaded with Terence, so for Pinocchio's sake, Terence bought the little fish on the spot. The man who was selling her was surprised that Terence wanted the fish still alive, uncooked and unharmed in any way, but he couldn't very well refuse the amount of money Terence offered for her, either. Whatever had become of Figaro, neither Terence nor Pinocchio knew—but they could guess from how weak and ragged the little kitten was that night, with his fur dirty and unkempt, and his ribs showing plainly. Now Figaro was fat and well fed again, and his fur was a beautiful, glossy black. He seemed a great deal happier too, as did Cleo.

Figaro rubbed himself against Terence and Pinocchio's ankles, as he always did whenever they came into a room. Then he made a beeline for the table and proceeded to sharpen his little claws on one of the wooden legs.

"Please don't do that, Figaro," said Terence. "You'll bring that table crashing down one of these days."

Figaro, of course, paid no attention and went about his business. The little rascal was very pleased at the amount of damage he'd managed to inflict upon the table within the last few months.

While Pinocchio scrambled onto his chair, and while Terence strode to the stove to inspect the porridge and see whether the bread was done yet, a big collie dog came trotting in.

This was Duke, another member of the household, and the newest one at that.

No one knew where he'd come from; Terence had simply found him one day at their front door. Duke, who was a lonely, starving stray, had whined, whimpered, and begged until Terence gave him a bit of food and water and took a few minutes to scratch his ears. Terence felt sorry for the poor whelp, who was as miserable and as wretched as Figaro had been, if not more so. Therefore, he took the collie in and made him part of the family.

Pinocchio took a great liking to Duke right away, although Figaro was, to say the least, not amused with the idea of having a dog in the house. But now the cat and the collie got along quite well, although sometimes it seemed Duke went out of his way to provoke Figaro—such as stealing the kitten's food, barking at him when his back was turned, and chasing him about when Figaro would much rather take a catnap.

Figaro hissed at Duke when he saw him, and he swatted the dog's nose with his forepaw when Duke brought his head to the cat's level, but Duke understood that was only Figaro's way of saying, "Good morning."

He growled playfully in return and used his own paw to gently knock Figaro onto his side and mess around with him a bit.

"All right, cool it, you two," Terence said when he saw this. To help the animals settle down, after he'd taken out the bread and stirred the porridge around, the young man filled two bowls with warm, sweet milk and set them on the floor. That got Figaro and Duke's attention right away. In no time they were both lapping happily away, one from each bowl. Terence also set down a plateful of meat for each of them before returning his attention to the porridge.

Noticing how Pinocchio was eyeing the bowl of fruit longingly at the table, he smiled and said, "Help yourself, Pinocchio."

So Pinocchio picked out a few handfuls of berries and also helped himself to a fresh apricot. "Good morning, Jiminy," he greeted the cricket when he saw him.

"Morning, Pinoke," Jiminy replied. His expression grew concerned. "If you don't mind my saying, what was all the ruckus just a moment ago?"

Before Pinocchio could say anything, Terence answered for him. "It's nothing, Jiminy. Pinocchio woke up from a frightening dream, but he's all right, now."

The young man then shifted his attention to Cleo, who swam up to him as he approached the bowl. "Hello, Cleo," he said warmly, sticking his fingers into the water and stroking her scales, the way Pinocchio often did. "And how fares our little mermaid this morning?" Being a fish, Cleo could only burble in reply, but Terence seemed to understand her. "Well, that's good to hear!"

It seemed to Pinocchio that Terence had an unusual way with animals. For that matter, the white-haired youth seemed in tune with everything in nature. Perhaps that was why he'd opted to settle down here in the countryside. Jiminy had to admit Terence was very different from any man he'd ever met. There was something peculiar about him—and not just in his physical appearance.

After giving Cleo her breakfast, Terence ladled the steaming porridge into two large bowls. Then he added a few drops in a tiny, nutshell-sized bowl for Jiminy. He set the little bowl in front of Jiminy, one of the big bowls in front of Pinocchio, and sat down at the other end of the table with the last bowl. Pinocchio made sure to add no less than five spoonfuls of sugar and three large dollops of fresh honey before picking up his spoon and hungrily digging in. Jiminy practically dove into his own bowl. Terence, being a gentleman, ate much more slowly and neatly, one small spoonful at a time.

For a few minutes, no one said a word, all thoughts centered on eating.

Presently, Terence pushed his bowl aside for the time being and said, "Shall we practice your reading this morning, Pinocchio?"

"Hmm?" Pinocchio looked up from his bowl. One hand still clutched his spoon, the other held a half-eaten wedge of bread. The boy's cheeks bulged out like a chipmunk's, and a bit of porridge dribbled down his chin. Terence couldn't repress a smile at the endearing sight. Of course, the boy made sure to swallow before he answered. "Oh, Terence, I don't know—do we have to do it now?"

"Come on," Terence beckoned, "it'll be good for you."

Pinocchio hung his head. "You know I'm no good at this reading stuff, Terence."

Having never attended school before, or received any formal education, the boy had never learned to properly read or write. Terence, who, in contrast, was a very skilled reader and maintained beautiful penmanship, had therefore decided to tutor the boy himself. When the opportunity arose, he purchased several books for them to study together, along with several quills and sheaves of parchment for writing.

It was a painfully slow and often extremely frustrating process for Pinocchio, but Terence was always very patient with him.

"Sure, you are," Terence insisted. "All you need is practice. And don't worry, we'll go nice and slow."

Pinocchio sighed as he set down his spoon, but he gave in. "Oh, all right."

So Terence went to retrieve one of the books. When he came back, Pinocchio obligingly pushed his porridge away to make room, as well as make sure the book didn't get messy. Terence dragged his chair around the table to Pinocchio's side before sitting down again and passing the book to the boy. It was a collection of The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer, a medieval author that Terence was rather fond of.

They began with The Miller's Tale. With just a little prompting from Terence, Pinocchio began: "Now when the…the…knight…had thus his story told…in all the r-root…I mean, rout…there was nor y-young nor old."

Terence nodded. "Good, keep going."

"But said it was a n-no…" Pinocchio faltered, unable to form the word. "No…nob-lay…"

"Noble, Pinocchio," Terence gently corrected.

"Yes, noble, thanks. But said it was a noble story, well…worthy to be kept in mind to tell. And s-sp…speck…speck, uhh…er…" Once again, Pinocchio hit a snag, so Terence took over.

"And specially the gentle folk, each one," recited the young man, "our host, he laughed and swore, 'So may I run.'" He slid one arm around Pinocchio's small shoulders as he continued, "But this goes well, unbuckled is the mail—"

Here, he stopped, allowing Pinocchio to take it from here.

"—let's see now who can tell another tale," Pinocchio concluded.

Terence nodded again and smiled. "That's it, Pinocchio, very good. You're doing very well."

They read for the next half-hour or so, pausing every now and again to eat their breakfast. Pinocchio didn't think he was making much progress, if any, but Terence's words of praise and his tender touch made the boy feel a world of good. It sure helped to have a tutor like Terence. When Terence finally decided they'd done enough for now, Pinocchio was relieved, and even a little disappointed at the same time.

Terence now started gathering the breakfast dishes together, and Pinocchio lent him a hand.

They had a good time washing the dishes—though they had a bit of a scare when Jiminy leaped onto the counter to watch them, and the cricket accidentally slipped and took a tumble into the sudsy water. It took Terence a while to find him and fish him out, but when he did, Jiminy was miraculously alive, though thoroughly soaked and hiccupping up bubbles. "Oh, Jiminy, are you all right?" Terence asked as he placed him on a dry towel on the counter.

"Sure," Jiminy answered when he'd recovered his voice. With a hint of humor, he added on, "I was going to take a bath later anyway, and now I have been spared the trouble."

Terence shook his head. That was the disadvantage of having a cricket in the house—Jiminy was at constant risk for getting squished, stepped on, flattened, and overall pummeled about.

But no matter the hazard, somehow Jiminy always came through with a joke.

As Terence and Pinocchio resumed their chore, Pinocchio lifted the mood by playfully flicking a bit of water into Terence's face, and the young man didn't hesitate to flick water back at him. This made them both laugh.

When at last they were finished and had dried themselves off, Terence helped Pinocchio to get dressed. Just as Pinocchio was putting on his Tyrolean cap, they could hear Duke barking and whining. When they came out to the collie, they found him pawing frantically at the back door, indicating he wanted to go outside. Terence chuckled. "All right, Duke," he said heartily as he sauntered over to open the door. "I'll let you out, boy."

"Can I go out, too, Terence?" Pinocchio asked.

"Why not? It's a beautiful day; we could all use a bit of fresh air."

No sooner had Terence detached the lock and hauled the door aside than Duke took off like a streak of lightning.

The only problem was that the dog took Pinocchio out with him—literally. Pinocchio had enough misfortune to have been standing right in front of Duke while the big dog was prancing about impatiently, right at the moment that Terence opened the door. So when Duke ran out, he shot directly between Pinocchio's legs, inadvertently scooping the boy onto his back in the process. It all happened so fast that neither Pinocchio nor Terence had any warning.

The next thing Pinocchio knew, he was being carried swiftly away, and he was compelled to seize onto Duke's creamy ruff to keep from falling off.

"Pinocchio!" he heard Terence call after him.

But Duke kept going at top speed, barking wildly the whole time. Whether or not he was aware that Pinocchio was astride him, he made no sign.

At first Pinocchio was very nervous, to say the least. But his anxiety soon faded, and as Duke carried him through a wide field of flowers, the boy gave out a whoop and waved his cap around in the air. When Duke at last seemed to notice the boy and realize what he was doing, he stopped so abruptly that Pinocchio was flung to the ground. The boy rolled head over heels before coming to a rest on his back.

Luckily, the grass was thick and soft, so Pinocchio didn't get hurt, though it was some time before he was ready to get up again.

As he lay there, he felt something lift his head, and then Terence's anxious face appeared directly above his. "Pinocchio?" the young man asked in a fearful voice. "Pinocchio, are you all right?"

It was a minute before Pinocchio realized that Terence was kneeling behind him in the grass, holding his head in his lap.

Pinocchio smiled up at the white-haired man and answered right away, "I'm all right."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Terence sighed in relief, then lifted Pinocchio to a sitting position before gathering the child into his arms and hugging him very tightly. The hug felt wonderful, as always, and Pinocchio readily squeezed him back.

"Oh, you had me worried for a minute there, son," he heard Terence breathe into his ear. His heart fluttered upon being addressed as "son".

Terence didn't mean to seem a worrywart, but he had been a great deal more protective of Pinocchio since their affair with Fabrizio. The young man knew he shouldn't fret about every little thing, but he couldn't help it.

He had already lost Pinocchio once; he didn't intend to lose him again.

The rest of the day went by quite smoothly, with no serious concerns.

At the end of the day, after a capital supper, Terence gave Pinocchio a very soothing bath, with water that was neither too hot nor too cold, and plenty of bubbles. Pinocchio wasn't very fond of deep water, having almost drowned on one occasion; but he did enjoy his bath, and when Terence splashed him teasingly at one point, he giggled and splashed back, so that Terence was dripping himself. But Terence only laughed along as he wiped the moisture from his eyes.

Jiminy made sure to stay well clear of the tub as he watched the two of them. The cricket had to smile at the sight; he hadn't seen Pinocchio this happy for the longest time.

Later, after both Terence and Pinocchio were dry and Pinocchio was dressed in his nightclothes, and after a round of sweet biscuits and warm milk, they all sat together in Pinocchio's room while Terence read a bedtime story, with Duke and Figaro listening attentively at their feet. When the story was over, Terence joined Pinocchio at the side of his bed as they said their prayers.

After that, Pinocchio curled up with Terry on the soft mattress, and Terence tucked them both in. Terence leaned down and kissed Pinocchio goodnight, as he always did, but Pinocchio grabbed his sleeve before he could get away.

"What is it, Pinocchio?"

"Please stay, Terence," the boy entreated. "I—I'm scared I might have that dream again."

In spite of the good day, Pinocchio hadn't forgotten the terrible dream he'd awoken from that morning, and he was afraid he would see Fabrizio again when he closed his eyes.

Terence understood and promptly took a seat alongside him on the bed.

"Don't worry," he said, taking hold of Pinocchio's small hand. "I'll be right here, for as long as you need me. I won't let anything happen to you…I promise."

As he cradled Pinocchio's hand, as he reached out to stroke Pinocchio's face, he began to croon a gentle lullaby. Terence had a notable singing voice, and his voice, along with the lyrics, soothed Pinocchio as much as his loving caress:

"A gentle breeze
From Hushabye Mountain
Softly blows o'er Lullaby Bay.
It fills the sails
Of boats that are waiting,
Waiting to sail your worries away.

"It isn't far
To Hushabye Mountain,
And your boat waits down by the key.
The winds of night
So softly are sighing.
Soon, they will fly your troubles to sea.

"So close your eyes
On Hushabye Mountain,
Wave goodbye to cares of the day.
And watch your boat
From Hushabye Mountain
Sail far away from Lullaby Bay."

A smile spread over Pinocchio's face while he listened. Slowly, his eyes drifted closed, and he was sleeping soundly before Terence had even finished the song. By the time Terence was through, even Figaro and Duke had drifted off peacefully to sleep, huddled up against each other on the floor. Jiminy was still awake, but he was having a difficult time keeping his eyes open. With a yawn, the cricket stretched out his tiny limbs, then he made way for his own bed.

Before long, Terence was the only one up.

Terence smiled as he regarded Pinocchio, feeling his heart swell and his eyes prickle with unshed tears. He drew the quilt up just a little further, then adjusted the pillow to make sure Pinocchio would be good and comfortable.

Then he leaned down once more to hug him. "Pinocchio," he said, speaking in but a whisper. "My dear, dear little Pinocchio."