Fic: Dream House

[csi_sanders1129]

Title: Dream House
Chapters: 1/1
Author: csi_sanders1129
Genre: Family. Fluff.
Ratings: T
Word Count: 4,310
Pairings/Characters: August Booth(Pinocchio)/Jefferson(Mad Hatter), Grace(Paige), Emma Swan, Henry Mills.
Synopsis: In which August finds Grace after the curse is broken and returns her to where she belongs.
Comments: Written in response to cottoncandy_bingo prompt: dream house/car/etc. First Once Upon A Time Fic, probably a little OOC, still trying to get the hang of everyone. Goes AUish from the start of 2x01 Broken and fudges the time line of events a little. Characters not mine, please enjoy! Comments are awesome.

Jefferson has a dream house.

It had been his payment (his curse) for his part in helping the Queen come to power over the years of her reign. He'd been promised that his daughter would never want for anything if he helped her and the Queen had kept her word. She had a family, a mom and a dad and a happy life. But Jefferson? He had nothing. Only a big, useless house and memories of another life where he had her. He didn't want for anything here, either - except for his Grace. Or, if not that, then just to forget like everyone else.

The house is extravagant, even if it does err a bit on the creepy side. There are rooms that have no purpose, rooms that simply lead to other rooms, rooms that he probably hasn't even found yet. There's a room for musical instruments - a piano, a cello, a clarinet; another for art supplies. There's even a whole room filled with stuffed animals. The sprawling land outside would've made his daughter happy, too, endless walks in the forest and places for them to play hide and seek. Back in the Enchanted Forest, having this home (and the bank accounts that came with it) would have meant an end to their troubles. He could've given Grace everything she deserved, everything he ever wanted her to have but could never give her. But here, without her, there's no point to having all of this if he can't share it with her.

He has a wonderful house, but it is far from a home.

He walks the halls alone, pacing endlessly and waiting for something to change.

---

When the curse finally does break, August is the one to find her.

He's not trying, really. He doesn't even know who she is when he slams into her just outside of the school parking lot. He's only just turned back to a flesh and blood human, and everything is still stiff and hard to move - turning to wood apparently has that effect on a person. But turning back means the curse is broken, that Emma actually managed to pull it off somehow and he's eager to find her and figure out how she did it when he didn't think she'd ever believe.

But he walks right into this little girl, he's moving too slowly to dodge out of her way as she frantically rushes down the sidewalk.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, a hand out to catch her when she nearly falls. She's crying, he notices, and stopping her forward progress seems to have exacerbated the problem, but he knows he didn't run into her hard enough to cause the sobs that make her shoulders shake and he can't just leave her there like that. "What's wrong?"

She sniffles and looks up at him, her big brown eyes rimmed red from tears. "I can't find my father."

And, well, okay. Maybe he can help with that.

"What's your name?" He asks, kneeling down so he's level with her, though his stiff knees protest the movement.

"Pai- er, no. It... It's Grace, I think."

Right, he thinks, the curse. The broken curse would have freed her from whatever name she went by here, given her back her memories. Paige, he recalls, he saw her talking to Henry once when he came by. "I'm August."

"Can you help me find him?" She asks him, looking at him like he's the answer to everything in the world ever, so much hope in her eyes. "He... he said he had to go away for a while and left me with our neighbors. But he said he'd be back in time for tea, he promised. Why didn't he come back?"

He doesn't have an answer, not yet. But being a writer is kind of like being a detective - at least he likes to tell himself that sometimes - so he tries to get more information. "Do you remember his name?" She shakes her head. "Where you lived?" She tells him it was a little cabin in the woods, which isn't helpful at all. "What he did?" Picking mushrooms to sell at market is also not informative. "Do you have anything he gave you?" It's unlikely, he knows - not a lot of things came over with the Dark Curse, but maybe...

She nods and pulls something from her backpack. It's a rabbit, hand-stitched together with what looks like random bits of fabric. It's a well-worn toy, squeezed nearly flat by so much hugging, but it sparks an idea in August's mind.

"The Mad Hatter," he announces. Geppetto had told him stories of the man who'd gone mad in Wonderland, making hats forever and ever and ever because the Queen had tricked him into helping her. He hasn't heard that story in more than 28 years, but he's read a similar one in Henry's book when he added in his own pages, his own story. "We'll find him," he promises.

"My Papa isn't mad," she argues.

"He couldn't get back to you," August tells her, trying to explain, "and he went a little crazy, but maybe you can fix him."

Grace doesn't look calmed by the news, but she takes the hand he offers and follows after him.

Finding Emma (and Henry) is even more important now because he doesn't actually know where the Mad Hatter has ended up in Storybrooke. They haven't crossed paths since August arrived in town, but maybe one of the two of them knows who he is or where to find him.

The trail leads him to the hospital, where Henry is just getting released. Poisoned Apple, Emma explains, and yeah. That'd do it, he thinks. That'd definitely make her believe in magic.

"Grace," Henry says happily when he spots the girl from his class who's clinging tightly to August's side. August is not at all surprised that Henry already knows her real name. "Why aren't you with your Dad?"

"I don't know where he is," she explains sadly.

"The Mad Hatter," August explains, "don't suppose you know where to find him?"

Emma frowns and looks far more serious than the situation calls for. "He's her father? You can't let her go back to him! He's crazy."

August shoots her a pointed look, glancing down at the little girl who just looks kind of broken now. Henry beats him to the argument in defense of her father, though - "You have to! He's good! Right, August? You read the book!"

And he is. Geppetto did some crazy things to save him from the Curse, why should anyone expect anything less than the same from any other parent? That they wouldn't go mad trying to get back to their child? "Right," he agrees.

Emma glares at him and pulls him aside, forcing Grace to release her hold on him. Henry distracts her, pulling out the book of fairy tales and flipping to the Mad Hatter's sad story.

"You cannot take her to that lunatic! Jefferson kidnapped Mary Margaret and I, August," Emma tells him. "He was going on and on about his magical hat and trying to get me to believe that it could open up portals to other worlds and when I wouldn't, he was ready to kill us. She kicked him out a window."

And August gapes at the explanation, hopes he isn't chasing a ghost in trying to track down this Jefferson. "You haven't considered that he was telling you the truth?"

"Well, now," she defends, gesturing to Henry. "You tried to get me to believe, too, but you didn't try to kill me."

"There were moments when I kind of wanted to," he argues. Like the moments when the shifting wood had spread over his body, when it made it hard to walk or breathe or talk.; the moments when the evidence was right there and she chose to ignore it. A glance at Grace and Henry huddled over the book draws him back to the present issue, though. "You don't happen to know if he survived your window incident, do you?"

"I've seen him around since, he keeps his distance now."

"And where might he live?"

She sighs, obviously realizes she won't talk him out of this when he knows the Hatter's story and she doesn't (and Henry really should force her to read the whole of that book so she doesn't keep having this problem), and reluctantly tells him the address, that of the enormous mansion on the edges of town.

"Grace," he calls out, happy to have made progress on this mystery, "let's go find him."

She rushes back over to him, catching his hand before he can even offer it to her. "You know where he is?"

"I could take you," Emma offers. She is the Sheriff, after all, and maybe Jefferson will keep himself in line if she's the one to deliver Grace to him.

But Grace shakes her head and squeezes August's hand, declining with a polite but certain, "That's okay."

August is glad, for some reason he really wants to see this through to the end.

And Emma frowns, but lets them go. Henry calls out a wish for good luck and they set off for the walk to Jefferson's place.

"Why didn't you want to go with Emma?" He asks, curious - they're both equally strangers to her.

She frowns and pouts down at her shoes as they walk. "She said my Papa was dangerous, but he's not. And you said he was just mad that he couldn't find me." It's a solid explanation, full of a child's innocence and August just hopes he's right about her father's mental state.

The house comes into view then, and Grace gasps in surprise, clearly awed by the stark contrast to the little one-room cottage she'd told him they'd shared back in the Enchanted Forest. "Whoa," she says, picking up speed as they near the door.

"Hold on," August says, struggling to keep pace with her.

She's knocking on the door when he catches up to her, a hand landing on her shoulder. He wants to believe that this man, Jefferson, is good like Henry and his book claim he is, but he's prepared to protect the girl if he seems like a threat, ready to put himself between the two if necessary.

There's no answer for a long moment, no sign of movement in the grand house. Grace shifts nervously beside him and offers an excuse of, "maybe he was all the way on the other side?" before she knocks again.

August peeks in the window by the door and sees a figure approach, looking irritated and impatient. Not good.

"Maybe we shouldn't-" he starts, but then the door is flying open.

The man's mouth is open, like he's about to start spewing curses and threats until they get off of his property, but then it snaps closed when his eyes land on the little girl. August watches him carefully and it looks like he just stops breathing altogether. His mouth opens again, and he manages a barely audible, "Grace," that comes with an exhale that releases 28 years of tension.

"Papa!"

He drops to his knees and pulls her into his arms to hug her close, and so so so tight. August spots tears in his blue eyes, not brown like Grace's, and he just keeps holding on like she's going to disappear. "I've missed you so much."

Which, well, that's odd. It's hard to miss people when you don't actually remember them. Unless Jefferson had been exempt from that part of the curse, which would also explain why he was trying to get Emma to believe. He hums in thought, which seems to draw attention to him.

"Mr. August helped me find you!"

Jefferson looks up at him and offers a small smile, something August suspects he hasn't done in quite some time. "Thanks. Thank you. I, ugh..."

"Jefferson, right?"

He gets a nod as the man finally breaks the hug, moving to stand and offer a hand to the stranger who brought his Grace back to him.

"Why didn't you come and find me, Papa? Everyone remembers now."

August sees Jefferson freeze the way a deer would freeze in the gleam of oncoming headlights. It's a tough question. He tries to help, offering up a suggestion that might explain it. "Maybe he was scared you wouldn't want him to? Since he couldn't come back to you when he promised you he would?"

Grace looks from him back to her father, "is that it?"

"Yeah," Jefferson answers. "That's... I tried to come back, Grace, I promise I tried as hard as I could and then more. But I couldn't and... and I let you down and I'm sorry."

She hugs him again, "It's okay. Henry showed me his storybook. It had pictures of you," she says. "And Mr. August told me you were trapped and couldn't get away."

"He did?" Jefferson's eyes dart back up to him, curiosity clearly piqued.

"I, ugh," August mumbles, "I know the stories."

"And yours?" Jefferson challenges. "What's your story?"

"Maybe you'll find out someday," he answers. No one here knows of his past excepting Henry and maybe Emma. He didn't come through with the curse and he and Emma are the only ones who have aged in the 28 years that have gone by - no one recognizes him, not even Geppetto (though he might remedy that soon). He kind of likes it that way. He moves to take his leave, let them reunite without his interference, but that's when they see the clouds of purple smoke spread out across the sky.

"What's that?" Grace asks, a note of panic in her voice.

It draws closer, and Jefferson backs toward the door. "Inside," he says. "The house is protected."

Good, August thinks, that'll keep them safe. His heart races as he takes a step off of the porch. He wonders if he can get back to town before whatever that is causes whatever havoc it will undoubtedly bring with it.

"You, too," Jefferson says, catching his arm. He pulls lightly, and August stumbles slightly on the steps, but manages to follow. Jefferson closes and locks the door behind them, as if that will somehow keep the ominous purple smoke at bay.

"What is that?"

"I suspect it's Rumplestiltskin's revenge. Nothing for us to worry about." the Mad Hatter explains without explaining. He doesn't seem concerned, though, at least about the smoke. "Are you okay?" He asks of August, "You seem... off-balance."

August shrugs, ignores the twinge of pain in his knees and stands straighter. "Can we call that the lingering effects of my curse?"

Grace, still clinging to her father, pipes up. "The smoke can't get us here? Do you live here?"

And Jefferson's down on his knees again, "I do. You do, too. If... if you want to stay with me?"

Grace smiles and throws her arms around him again, "Of course, Papa! I'll always want to stay with you."

"Well, then." He says, "how about a tour?"

August is invited along, but he is more concerned with the purple smoke than Jefferson seems to be, so he declines and opts to stay put on a couch in a room full of musical instruments instead. It has a good view of the purple smoke as it draws nearer and nearer the house. He can make out the distant sound of giggling from Grace in the other parts of the house and he's glad he stayed here - it gives them time to themselves that he'd be interrupting otherwise and Jefferson has waited long enough to be with his daughter again.

The purple smoke reaches the house, passes over and slowly evaporates away as August watches on. He doesn't know what it did, but he suspects it won't be good especially if Rumplestiltkin is to blame for its appearance in Storybrooke. The world doesn't seem to be ending, though, so he's in the process of slipping out the door when Grace reappears.

She's beaming, likely awed by whatever's she's seen in this maze of a house, but she grabs his hand and stops him from leaving. "No! You can't go, we're making tea! Please, stay?"

"Alright," he agrees, even though he should be going.

She leads him to a kitchen that's bigger than most people's houses and stocked with enough appliances to run a sizable restaurant with ease. Jefferson is waiting on a kettle to boil, leaning against the counter. He looks... happy, is the only way August can describe him, even though he's only known the man for less than an hour. "You're staying?"

"If that's okay?"

A nod, and Jefferson flips over a third tea cup on the island in front of him. "Just tell me how you like your tea."

As it turns out, tea is one of Jefferson's specialties (which August feels stupid for forgetting because he's the Mad Hatter, after all), so he probably could have done nothing to it and produced an amazing cup of tea. The bit of honey and lemon that gets added to his doesn't ruin it, though. Jefferson leads them back to the music room and Grace regales August with stories about their lives in the Enchanted Forest.

The tea vanishes, gets topped off and vanishes again and the conversation wears on. Grace starts to look a little tired, so Jefferson suggests she take a nap, she's had a long day, after all, and after much insisting, she goes. She gives August a hug before she goes and thanks him again and again and again for helping her find her Papa and then she hugs Jefferson for what seems like forever before he gives her a kiss on the forehead and sends her to bed.

"So," August says, now that they're alone. "I should go."

"You could stay for dinner, too," Jefferson blurts out before he can make a move in the direction of the door.

And he doesn't want to leave, for reasons he doesn't understand, so he agrees. Jefferson leads him back to the kitchen with their empty tea cups and sets to washing them. "I can help," he offers, claiming the drying part of the job before Jefferson can brush off his offer.

Jefferson keeps shooting him these curious looks, like he's trying to figure something out. Finally, he says "Pinocchio," but he doesn't say anything else.

"What?"

"You're Pinocchio," Jefferson repeats. "Henry told Grace who you were before."

August sighs, so much for his secret. "I was."

Jefferson's staring at him, "but you couldn't have come through with the curse. You only just showed up in Storybrooke and you've gotten older - you were only a kid in the other world, younger than Grace. None of us have aged."

"I came through with Emma," he says, but he doesn't know why he's admitting to this story to a man who is almost a complete stranger. "Geppetto wouldn't build them the magic wardrobe unless I could go through, too. He didn't know if the curse would bring me or just kill me, since..."

"Since magic made you real?"

August nods. "I was supposed to convince Emma, stay with her when we came through and make sure she knew what was happening when it was time to come back here and break the curse, but I..." He sighs, hates himself for his failure. Realistically, it was nearly an impossible request to put on a kid as young as he had been. He would have been separated from her sooner or later. "I didn't. And when I failed, when I couldn't get her to believe, I turned back to wood. My curse without a curse."

"Ah," Jefferson hums, as that explains his earlier stumbling. "So that's why the..."

"Yeah."

"Got it."

Jefferson sets to work on making dinner, all of Grace's favorites to celebrate her return. August helps where he can and stays out of the way when he can't. At some point, the scarf that Jefferson has had on since he opened the door comes off, revealing the same thin scar that circles the entirety of his neck that Henry's book had shown him. He stares, wondering if it's from what he thinks it's from, and Jefferson catches him.

"You know about that, too?"

August looks away, "That the Queen of Hearts is fond of beheadings? Yes. Although I'm not quite sure how they fixed it."

Jefferson shrugs and brings a hand up to rub at his neck. "Neither am I."

"The Queen left you there?" He asks, confirming the tale the book tells. Jefferson relays the whole of his story to him, from his earlier work with the Queen to his last job here and when the tale is done, August finds that he's glad he ignored Emma's warnings and brought Grace back to her father despite the mistakes Jefferson had made in working with Regina. He's certainly paid for his alliance with her in the time since the curse was put in place.

"And so you ended up in this dream house all alone for 28 years?"

Jefferson frowns and nods. "Everything I wanted for my Grace in the other world I had here, and I would've traded all of it in a heartbeat for that shack in the woods."

"And now?"

"Now this place might actually start feeling like a home."

---

Jefferson wakes to the sound of laughter in the house.

He drags himself out of bed and down the hall to the room full of stuffed animals (though the rabbit he made for Grace never leaves her side). August's voice comes flowing out of the room and Jefferson finds himself smiling.

August is great with her. He noticed it from the moment he opened the door that first day, the way he was standing just in front of her, like he'd have protected her if she needed protecting. And he's great with Jefferson, too. When things all fell to hell with Emma and Snow and Charming and the always cruel price of magic (the cause of the purple cloud, they've since learned) he'd blamed himself more than a little bit because his hat had caused the trouble. Things have worked themselves out since then, but August had been there for him when he'd sort of lost it, in ways that he hadn't expected him to be.

They're both fond of August, too. When it got to the point where he'd been spending nearly all of his time with Jefferson and Grace and only using his room to sleep, he'd just casually suggested that, "You could move in," one morning over breakfast, and, "it's not like there's a shortage of rooms here," and the other man had accepted with a smile.

He knocks on the half open door as he steps through, not at all surprised to find the two of them (as well as an array of stuffed animals) enjoying an early morning tea party. "Am I invited?" He asks.

"Always, Papa," Grace says.

August stands, comically bows as he pulls out a chair for him. "We can ignore your violation of the tea-party dress codes, I suppose. Right, Grace?"

She giggles and nods, pouring an imaginary cup of tea for her father, still clad in the plain grey t-shirt and checked pajama pants he'd slept in. "We'll allow it this time."

"Well," he says, sipping from the empty cup, "I could go change into proper clothes, or I could make your favorite pancakes for breakfast," he offers, knowing that the time is ticking before they have to send her off to school for the day.

August and Grace exchange conspiring looks, a couple of nods and quiet whispers. "We can definitely allow it, then," Grace says.

"Yeah, who said anything was wrong with pajamas? Maybe all future tea parties should require pajamas."

Jefferson laughs at them and stands again. "Pancakes it is, then."

August follows him down to the kitchen while Grace goes to finish getting ready for school. He catches Jefferson before he can set to work on the pancakes, pulling him into a slow kiss. "Morning," he says, grinning.

"Same to you," Jefferson answers, relishing the comfortable familiarity of this thing between them. He'd never thought he'd have it again after he lost Grace's mother, after the curse, but he does.

They move around the kitchen with practiced ease, staying out of each other's way while they work together, August pulling things out of cabinets while Jefferson sets up the supplies he'll need for pancakes. "Geppetto would like to come over for dinner this weekend, if that's okay?"

"Yeah," Jefferson agrees. "It's always okay. He's welcome here whenever he wants."

"Great. Like 6 o'clock on Saturday, then?"

"Sounds good."

Grace comes bounding down the steps and hugs both of them for no reason when August calls that breakfast is ready. August piles up three plates and Jefferson makes three cups of tea just the way everyone likes and the three of them sit down together.

The house is so different now, he thinks. It's never quiet, never still now. He no longer associates the word 'creepy' with it when he's staring at the house from outside. Before it had seemed ominous and dark and empty and now it's full of life. Full of Grace's tea parties and the sounds of August's old-fashioned typewriter and games of hide and seek where they never run out of new places to explore. The lonely, creepy shell of a house this used to be - the lonely, creepy shell of a person he used to be, they're both gone now.

And he wouldn't trade what he has now for anything, there's nothing else he could want.