Chapter Text
And all the anchors that they hid inside your chest
We will unravel all of the chains
And toss the remnants all down the drain
And though my hands are much too small to hold you up
I will be there to pick up the pieces
And keep you housed while you mend them up
(Radical Face, Small Hands)
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Feeling more nervous than he knew was rational, Lampwick stood just outside the door to August’s house. He pressed the doorbell once but couldn't hear it ring. After a minute, he opted for the door knocker instead, ornate and clearly carved by the old man sometime during the curse, he took a hold of the black metal loop and knocked several times in quick succession.
August was the one to answer, opening the door and greeting Lampwick with a slightly puzzled smile.
“Hello?”
“Hey.” Lampwick smiled back but the anxious energy that had plagued him the whole walk over still refused to leave him. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and tried to look past the other man’s shoulder and into the house behind him. “Urm…”
“Are you okay?” August tilted his head to the side a little. “Not that it’s not good to see you, but I wasn’t expecting you today and you...” His smile faded completely. “...Lampwick, are you okay?”
“Oh yeah, I’m fine just-”
Lampwick didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before Marco appeared at his son’s side, interrupting him as he explained, “he’s here to see me.” He then raised a hand, beckoning Lampwick inside with a motion.
“To see...To see you?” August asked as he graciously moved to the side in order for Lampwick to enter the little house. “Why?”
“I’m, urr, I’m here for the game,” Lampwick admitted. “To watch the soccer match.”
“With...My dad?”
“He’s here to watch the football with me.” Marco reiterated firmly as he reached past the pair and closed the door shut. Turning back around to look at August he then far more gently added,“so long as you’re comfortable with that?”
“I mean.” August still looked utterly perplexed by the entire situation. “Sure, I guess?”
There was a pause after that. Just a little longer and a little heavier than anyone in the room was comfortable with. Lampwick pursed his lips, waiting patiently for someone else to break the silence. He should have known this would be a bad idea. That this would be awkward as hell and-
“Lampwick, can I offer you a drink?” Marco asked with a polite smile.
Lampwick cleared his throat a little.
“Sure.”
Marco nodded in response to the reply before adding, “August?”
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
That same, polite smile returned once again.
“I’ll go and see what there is,” Marco said before stepping past the other two and into the other room.
August quickly took the opportunity, immediately moving closer to Lampwick. A frantic whisper escaped his lips.
“What is happening?”
“Look,” Lampwick replied in an equally hushed tone of voice. “I mentioned the other week to him that I was into soccer and he kind of ran with it. Next thing I know he’s all ‘me too, you should watch a match with me sometime’ and I was like…” Lampwick shrugged, exasperated as he recreated the conversation. “I was like, ‘sure, sounds good’, you know? ‘Cause, hell, I mean, I wasn’t gonna say no, right? And, I don’t know...I think that maybe this is his way of trying to get to know me a bit better.” His expression hardened into a serious frown. “But...If it’s too weird or awkward or whatever, I can go.”
“No.” August’s reply was quick. “It's fine...it's…” His anxious stare finally lifted to make room for a particularly soft smile. “It's really sweet of you, actually. Thank you. But, you know, you didn’t have to say yes?”
Lampwick folded his arms and shrugged a little in an effort to appear a whole lot more nonchalant about the scenario than he actually was.
“I want to,” he said. “And anyway, with the tv as a distraction, I’m hoping that it won’t turn into too much of an interrogation or anything.” All of a sudden, something very heavy settled in the pit of his stomach, as though a stone had just dropped right through him. With it, his face also dropped, turning to one of wide-eyed fear as the realisation of his words really hit home. “It won’t turn into an interrogation, will it?”
August only raised his eyebrows. A look of indifference that did nothing to settle Lampwick’s nerves.
“I hope not.”
“ Not encouraging words…” Lampwick hissed through gritted teeth just as Marco re-entered the hallway, two beer bottles clutched in his hands.
“Will you be joining us?” he asked August as he passed one of the bottles over to Lampwick.
August seemed to mull the suggestion over, directing his gaze to the wooden flooring below. He then glanced directly at Lampwick with a look that said, ‘do you want me there?’
“Totally up to you,” Lampwick said casually, refusing to make the decision for him. If August really did want to stick around -whether that be because of a genuine interest in wanting to watch soccer with them, or because he was worried about whatever potential conversation Marco might try to have with Lampwick- then he was more than welcome to. However, if he didn’t...
“In that case, I’ll leave you both to it,” August decided. “I actually have a commission I should be working on anyway.”
“The one for Mr Clark?” Marco inquired.
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s a big piece. Just make sure you don’t work yourself too hard.” August moved across the hall and it wasn’t until he reached one of the doorways that Marco added, “seriously, my boy.”
August swivelled around.
“Papa, I’ll be fine.” He looked at Lampwick, a light smirk teasing the corners of his mouth. “You two have fun.”
With that, he left through the doorway and it wasn’t long before Lampwick heard another door open and close -presumably the entrance to the garage at the back of the house- and the room was once again plunged into a terrible, awkward silence.
“Well, then,” Marco said, gesturing a hand in Lampwick’s direction, “please, take your coat off.” He pointed at a mounted coat rack near the front door. “We shouldn’t have to wait too long before it starts.”
With his coat shed and his beer still in hand, Lampwick had soon followed Marco into the living room and sat down beside him on the couch, his back as stiff as a board and the tension inside trickled right through him. It was laughable, really, when Lampwick thought about it all. When he remembered every time that he’d gotten in trouble with the schoolmaster, every time his mother had yelled at him for causing trouble, every stern word he had been given by his former boss when he was late for his shift at the cannery, he found that none of it even came close to making him feel the way he did now. Making him feel like his actions right now actually had consequences he could be bothered to care about.
Of course, it’s not as though he hadn’t ever spoken with Marco one-on-one before. After all, that was the reason soccer even came up in the first place. Because they were casually talking with one another.
But this was different. And it was something far more tense and awkward than Lampwick was at all comfortable with.
“I worry about him,” Marco commented as he picked up the TV remote and switched to the correct channel.
Both unsure of how to respond, and unsure if he was even supposed to respond, Lampwick said nothing. It was Marco that eventually broke that silence again.
"So, Lampwick, you've been well?"
"Urr, yeah, I guess. Work’s been good, so that’s... good ." He mentally cursed himself for both feeling and being so stilted right now. "And yourself?"
"Better now that my son is back home. Thank you, again, for helping bring him back to me." Marco paused for a long moment and Lampwick would have attempted to fill the silence himself this time if he couldn't feel that the man had something else he wanted to say, right on the tip of his tongue. Finally, Lampwick's suspicions were confirmed as he continued with, "You know, I didn't want to bring it up the other week, I figured that it would make August too uncomfortable, but I wanted to tell you that I remember you. From when we were all living in the Enchanted Forest.”
Shit.
“You do?”
“I do.” Marco nodded. “Though I only remember meeting you in person one time."
Lampwick uncomfortably scratched at the side of his face.
“I don’t remember that too well…”
In truth, Lampwick had forgotten a lot of his life in the Enchanted Forest, especially something that far back and seemingly insignificant. He could recall a vague and hazy memory of Pinocchio’s house, and an even hazier memory of the old man that lived there but that was about it. He and Pinocchio had spent far more time together at school or down at the beach, tossing pebbles into the ocean or threatening to push the other into the roaring waves. Long before the ocean had become something threatening in Pinocchio’s eyes. Something that August still refused to set foot in, even despite having stayed on Lampwick’s boat as often as he did.
“Truth be told, neither do I,” Marco confessed. “But I do remember that Pino-” Marco quickly cleared his throat, hastily correcting his wording, “that August would not stop singing your praises.” He raised an eyebrow and Lampwick couldn’t help but shrink a little under the gaze. “And I also remember one or two things that Archie had mentioned about you. I’ll admit that I was a little worried about August making friends with someone so... rebellious... but I was also happy that he’d made a friend at all. That boy…” Marco gently shook his head. “He used to trouble me so much. He still does, I suppose, but those first few days at school were some of the hardest.
“It broke my heart, that first day he came home from school. He ran straight towards me, tears in his eyes, telling me how the other children had called him names. That they all hated him because he was a puppet. Said that he was born of witchcraft. That he was unnatural.
“If I could have yelled at each and every one of them I would have. Or their parents. After all, it was them that raised their own children to think and behave in such a way.” Marco sighed a little, deflated. “But, well, the outcome was hardly an unexpected one. I knew it would be difficult for him to fit in, especially during those first few days, but I had to send him there anyway. It wouldn’t do, keeping him locked away from those his own age. Wasn’t right. Not to mention, I certainly wasn’t lucky enough to receive a proper education and I was not about to let my son miss out on the opportunity as well. So, I sat him down and I promised him that if things continued this way -if the other children continued to bully him- then I would bring him back home and I would apprentice him in woodcarving and woodcarving alone.
“But, I also made him promise me that he would give school a chance. Give the other children a chance to get to know him first, in the hopes that they would see past the wooden exterior and get to know the boy that I already loved so much.” Marco smiled wryly to himself. “Clearly, he befriended you a few days later because his mood had changed completely. I’m not sure I had ever seen him so happy. He came back ranting and raving about ‘Lampwick this’ and ‘Lampwick that’.” Just as Lampwick allowed himself to smile at those words, Marco’s own expression turned to a more serious one. Lampwick found his own face instantly dropping with it. “And then he then went on to mention something much more troubling. In his excitement, he also let slip that you had hit one of the other children. That was something that concerned me instantly, of course. I didn’t want my son hanging around with a bully, after all.”
Lampwick had regularly gotten into fights when he was that age, both physically and verbally (although he would insist to this day that it was almost never him that started them). With this being a more regular occurrence than he was ashamed to admit, he was currently struggling to remember the particular scuffle Marco was referring to.
“Urm…” A noise left his mouth, ready to try and defend his actions if he could.
There was no need.
“Don’t look so worried.” Marco’s words were almost more of a command than a reassurance. “Pinocchio...August, he explained to me that some of the other children had been teasing him again. That you were only defending him from them. I felt relieved, almost. Grateful that there was at least someone looking out for him during his time at school when I couldn’t.”
Normally Lampwick wouldn’t care what others thought about him. When it came down to it, he was more than capable of taking any gripe or criticism on the chin and ignoring their complaints as best he could. Over the years, this was certainly something he’d had a lot of practice with and he was almost an expert on the matter now. He didn’t need anyone’s approval and, at the end of the day, he would do as he pleased and do what he wanted.
However…
Having Marco actually like him was more important to Lampwick right now than he would ever care to admit out loud.
“Well,” he began, “he didn’t deserve the crap he got.”
Marco smiled thinly.
“No, he didn’t. He still doesn’t...” There was a long, drawn out pause. The game had started now but neither of them were paying much attention to it. “I know that he hasn’t been sleeping well. I hear him get up in the night sometimes. More often than he should. Far more often." He gave a half hearted shrug. "When he was little and he had a bad dream, I could hold him and tell him everything would be okay. That it would all look better in the morning. Or, I would tell a story to him to distract him from the nightmare, if things were truly bad.” He shrugged, the ghost of a bitter smile forming on his face. “I cannot do that anymore. He is too old and the distance between us…” The old man trailed off, his gaze and thoughts somewhere else altogether. Before Lampwick could interrupt that train of thought, Marco looked up at him, the lines in his face hard and serious and full of concern. “You’ll take care of my boy, won’t you? You promise me this.”
Now this was a lot closer to the ‘protective father’ speech Lampwick had been anticipating at the start of this visit. And yet, it wasn’t a threat. No, ‘treat my son right or there’ll be hell to pay’ like there could have been. Instead, it was a request. A gentle plea, asking Lampwick to do something he was already more than willing to do.
Lampwick nodded.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
Marco reached for the beer on his right side. It was only at this point that Lampwick realised he was still holding his own in his hands, the bottle perched carefully on his lap. Marco took a drink before setting it back down on the little side table and turning to Lampwick once more.
“Has he told you much? About his past outside of the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke?”
Lampwick shrugged. “A bit,” he said, deliberately revealing as little about the matter as possible. Whatever August had chosen to tell Lampwick was his own business, and whatever August had chosen to not tell his father was equally something that Lampwick had no business in sharing.
“He doesn’t talk much about his past, about his time outside of Storybrooke.” Marco’s voice was quiet now. Solemn and distant. “It worries me. I'm scared that it was worse for him than I first speculated it might have been."
Lampwick stared down at the drink in his hand.
“I think he just needs some time.”
Marco only looked partially reassured by the suggestion. With his face still hard-set and thoughtful, it was easy to see glimpses of August in him. Or, more rightly, glimpses of Marco in August, both equally as stubborn and hard-headed as the other.
“I hope so,” the man said finally before settling to watch the TV. “Anyway, enough of this. Let’s watch the game, shall we?”
Lampwick only nodded, still not quite able to get rid of the lump in his throat
Tensions settled not long after that, however. The creeping anxiety that had built in Lampwick fizzled away as the pair became more and more invested in the screen in front of them.
About two thirds of the way through, August re-appeared, making his way into the room and perching himself on an armchair just across from where the couch was. Although far less involved than the other two were, he stayed for the remainder of the match regardless, sitting there until it had ended and Lampwick had gotten up to leave.
“You’ll come again sometime?” Marco had asked as Lampwick grabbed his jacket from the hook.
“Maybe text me first, though?” August added. His tone was light and playful but Lampwick knew he’d end up in trouble if he didn’t.
“Yeah, sure,” Lampwick said, looking between August and Marco and finding that he wasn’t just agreeing because it might appease August. “Sounds good.”
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