. . . . . ╰──╮✰ ✰ ✰ ╭──╯ . . . . .

‎‧₊˚✧ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ✧˚₊‧

‎‧₊˚✧ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜᴘᴘᴇᴛᴇᴇʀ✧˚₊‧

______

"Not Everything That Is Faced

Can Be Changed

But Nothing Can Be Changed

Until It Is Faced."

______

August was fiddling with the door while Emma, Angie, and Mary Margaret watched. Mary Margaret had wanted to ensure that Regina could never get into the house again. While Henry seemed to be the solution to most of their problems recently, August was the best person for this job. August played with the deadbolt that he had installed for them. "No one is getting through that."

Emma nodded in appreciation. "Wow. When are you installing the torture chamber?"

"You like it?" August asked as he examined his handiwork. "I'll call it medieval-chic."

Mary Margaret let out a sigh. "I don't care what it looks like as long as it keeps Regina and her skeleton keys out."

Angie tapped the deadbolt. "This is pretty handy for a writer. Where'd you learn to do all this?"

"Wood shop. Eighth grade."

"Oh! Speaking of school," Mary Margaret remarked, grabbing her bags. "Have to get going."

"Are you sure you're ready to go back?" Emma asked.

Mary Margaret laughed. "After a stint behind bars? How tough can a room full of fourth-graders be? Besides, aren't you the one we need to be worried about?"

"Me? Why?"

Angie leaned against the newly enforced door. "You kind of threatened to take Henry away from Regina. Just a little bit."

"Oh, that wasn't a threat. I'm hiring Mr. Gold to help build a case against her." August, Angie, and Mary Margaret shared a three way look. Emma caught the look and turned straight to Mary Margaret. "She tried to have you framed for murder!"

Angie wrung her hands. "You do know what happens if you win, right?"

"Yeah."

Mary Margaret pulled her purse over her shoulder. "And you're ready? To be his mom?"

"Yeah."

Speaking of Henry, his voice came through Emma's walkie talkie. "Code red. Code red."

Emma retrieved her walkie from her belt and turned it on. "Hey, Henry, what's going on?"

"Meet me at Granny's. Bring Angie with you. It's an Operation Cobra emergency."

Angie leaned over to the walkie. "We're on our way."

Angie and Emma headed out, followed by August. August tapped Emma on the shoulder, causing Emma to gesture for Angie to continue on her own. Angie sighed and continued walking. She still had no idea who August was before the curse. She was hoping it would come to her, but she had been looking at him for weeks with still no hints.

Henry was seated in a booth against the left wall. Angie headed over and slid in across from him. "Hey. Emma's running a little late. What's the emergency?"

"Shh! This is sensitive."

Angie leaned across the table and whispered. "If it's sensitive, why are we at Granny's, out in the open?"

"I'm hungry." Henry said matter of factly. He removed the storybook from his backpack. "Who else knows that we hide the book at the Sheriff's station?"

"Just the three of us. Why?"

"Someone changed it. There's a new story in it."

"Why would someone add a new story?" Angie questioned as Henry flipped to the page.

"To tell us something we need to know about the curse."

"What?"

"I don't know," Henry said as he reached the final page of the story. "Story isn't finished."

"Why would someone go to so much trouble to add a new story and then not finish it?"

"That's what's weird. The story's about Pinocchio. Everyone knows how that ends."

"Maybe that's why it was left out."

"Or maybe there's more to it."

Angie gently took the book from Henry and examined the pictures. As she looked closer, pieces began to fall into place. When she had found the book after it had gone missing, it had been in a wooden box similar to the one that August carried his typewriter in. August had said before that he didn't lie. Angie tightened her bangle and placed the book back on the table. She suspected that Henry was right. There was more to the story that they were missing.

–

August had called Angie and told her to meet him at Mr. Gold's pawn shop. Mr. Gold was helping a man named Marco, who Angie remembered used to be named Gepetto. Crazy coincidence.

Angie headed over to Mr. Gold's desk and climbed up. "Any idea why we've been summoned?"

"Nope," Mr. Gold said. "I suspect he requires our combined abilities, which we showed the other night."

Just that second, August entered. He paused the moment he saw Marco. Mr. Gold broke the brief silence. "Oh, Mr. Booth. I'll be with you in a moment. On second thought, tell me—as one admirer of antiquities to another—do you think it's worth my while having this clock repaired?" There was silence as Marco and August stared briefly at each other. "I'll take the silence as a yes, then."

Marco swallowed sharply. "You know, I'm very busy right now, and eh, I'm just a one-man shop—but uh... I'll get to the clock as fast as I can."

Mr. Gold smiled. "I wouldn't ask for anything more." Angie took a sip from her water bottle and shook her head at the situation.

Marco began to head out. He nodded at August. "Good day."

"H-how are you..." August stuttered as Marco left the store.

Angie took another sip from her water bottle. "How are you doing, Woody?"

"First time seeing dear old Dad since you arrived at Storybrooke?" Mr. Gold asked.

"I'm s-sorry?"

"You know, what surprises me is, why a man who claims to be at death's door can't even bring himself to say hello to his father—what are you afraid of?"

August scratched his neck. "That's uh... that's my business."

"Ohh. Fair enough. Let's talk about ours. You claim to be the only person who can make Miss Swan believe. That you could do exactly what she was brought here to do."

Angie folded her hands. "What concerns us is the fact that for someone on death's door, you don't seem to be in much of a hurry."

August sighed. "It's not me slowing us down. It's her. All she can think about right now is getting custody of her kid."

Mr. Gold tapped on the desk. "Looks like Sheriff Swan needs a course correction."

"She's coming to you for legal advice."

"And you want me to steer her toward you."

August placed his hands on the desk in front of Angie and Mr. Gold. "I want both of you to steer her towards me. I can get her there. To believe. I just need your help. Trust me."

Mr. Gold laughed. "Fear not—a gentle nudge I shall provide." He then headed into the back room of his shop. Angie sighed. This wasn't going to end well.

Angie fiddled with the coin in her pocket, a nervous habit that had returned. "I guess I'll help too. So why don't you go back to Andy's toy box while Gold and I figure this out."

August ignored her joke and began to speak again. "Remember that conversation we had a few days back? I think I've figured out something about you."

"And what's that?"

August looked straight at her. "You don't think you're good enough, do you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You don't think you're good enough."

Angie climbed off of the desk. August's statement wasn't anything new to her. "You're wrong. I know I'm not good enough." She grabbed her purse and began to leave.

August grabbed her by the shoulders, stopping her. "That's why you're alone all the time. You hide behind walls, walls similar to ones that Emma puts up. Except yours aren't to protect yourself. They're to protect everyone around you. You're scared of hurting someone if they get too close to you. You have to take a risk and let someone love you-"

"You don't understand!" Angie yelled. "Demons can't love! It's impossible! It's against the laws of nature. They only care about themselves."

"Can't or don't want to? Face it, you don't know how to love and you're blaming it on you being a demon. You aren't a demon anymore, Angie. You aren't Lilith. You care for Mary Margaret. You care for Henry. You care for Emma."

"Caring is different from loving. I cared for David. I cared for-"

"Your brother."

Angie ripped herself from August's grasp in shock. "How did you-"

"Know? I'm a writer. I know things. Want to know what else I know? I know that you and your brother, Luc was his nickname, were demons. Real demons, not in the figurative sense. I know that you cared for him more than anything. I know that he was the closest thing you ever had to love. And then you made a decision. A decision that ripped you from Hell and sent you here as a baby. And I know it was your biggest regret because not a day went by afterward where you didn't wish you could take it back and be with Luc. That's why you have his name tattooed on your side. Because his name calms you. Makes you remember what you lost so you can move forward. Your name was always Lilith. But you changed it to Angelica to give yourself a fresh start. But you never went by it because you thought you would never be an angel. Am I wrong about anything I said? Because I'd be happy to be corrected if I was."

Angie felt the familiar heat rise up her back, caressing the scar that had indeed been part of a surgery. An involuntary one. One that had taken her wings for good. When Angie finally spoke, she spoke softly. "No."

"Then, I need you to listen to what I'm saying. Those walls you built up after you lost Luc are only going to get higher if you don't start tearing them down now. One day you will find someone to love you and you won't even think about Luc. When you find that person, you'll know."

"How?" Angie asked, close to tears. "I don't even know what love feels like."

"Maybe they can teach you. It'll get harder first. But sometimes we've just got to learn to dance in the rain."

–

Angie was walking past Mr. Gold's pawn shop when Emma stormed out, looking furious. Angie caught her friend's shoulders, stopping her from running off. "Emma, what happened?"

Emma groaned. "Mr. Gold said he can't help me gain custody over Henry. But I think I know who can."

"August you mean."

"Yeah," Emma said, wringing her hands. "Am I making a bad decision trusting him?"

Angie took a deep breath before answering. "I think he can show you something that you never thought about. I don't know if it will be good or bad, but it will change the way you think. I think that is what you need."

Emma nodded softly. Then she looked up. "Angie?"

"Yeah?"

"If I win the custody battle, will you be Henry's godmother?"

Angie's mental record player screeched to a halt. "What?"

"Right now, I am limiting who I trust. If something happens to me, I want him to go to you. You're one of the only ones I think I'll ever trust with him."

All Angie did was pull Emma into a hug. Emma and Angie held each other briefly before Emma let go. "Was that a yes?"

Angie laughed. "Of course. I would be honored."

–

Angie returned home from work to find Mary Margaret sitting on an armchair wringing her hands. Most of Emma's things were gone. Angie placed her coat down. "What's going on?"

"She's gone."

Angie looked across at the blank room and fingered the coin in her pocket. Something had gone wrong. August had failed.