Chapter Text
“There, all done,” Mr. Venigni says, gently covering the boy’s chest once more. “Doesn’t that already feel better?”
Pulcinella watches as Pinocchio nods slowly, still not meeting anyone’s gaze. Despite his purported recovery, his eyes remain glassy and unfocused, staring up at the gilded ceiling of the room in the hotel Master Lorenzini has turned into a temporary lab – Mr. Geppetto’s office would have probably been a more apt place for the repairs to happen in, but no one wanted to walk into that room any more than strictly necessary, least of all force the child in their midst to spend any length of time inside.
Pulcinella has the utmost faith in his master, but he suspects the boy is suffering from a malady that can’t be fixed with tools and tinkering. It’s a good thing that Pinocchio is beloved by all residing in the hotel – time and care might be the only possible solution, from the looks of it.
Not that everyone is in attendance at the moment. Far from it. Young Master Carlo has taken his grief elsewhere for the time being, and his lover is likely by his side – Pinocchio froze when presented with his brother, so there must have been an unspoken understanding between the adults after that, to give them both some space. Only Mr. Venigni and Miss Eugénie are still by the boy’s side, as the two most eclectic workers in the building.
And Pulcinella himself, of course. He was anxious to check on Pinocchio’s wellbeing, just like everyone else, but there is another person in the room who he was loathe to lose sight of, one that was once a fatherless boy with empty eyes and a heavy heart in his own right. After the boy went above and beyond to banish the shadow of Arlecchino from their household, the puppet butler is unwilling to let the death of Master Lorenzini’s old-time friend do such great damage again, not if he can help it.
Even if the circumstances are immensely different, that is.
“Does it still hurt anywhere?” Mr. Venigni asks, not stepping away from the table onto which they’ve laid the child just yet.
Pinocchio shakes his head, which prompts the man to sigh. “I am sorry to be so insistent, giovanotto, but while I trust that you have found your voice again, I cannot be sure until you talk to me.”
“Wait- Let me.” Eugénie lightly elbows him out of the way, then leans forward with a smile that is marvelously only tense at the edges. “Hey there. I bet there’s something around here that would make you feel better right now, uh?”
Another minute nod, one that the girl mirrors. “Alright. Can you tell me what it is that you need? So I can help you with it?”
There is a beat of silence, one where Pulcinella fears there will be no answer once again. Then Pinocchio’s face creases, some light returning to his blue eyes as he says: “Gemini.”
The relief is palpable in both adults, but Eugénie doesn’t falter, and instead holds her arms out to the boy, still smiling bravely. “That checks out. Let’s go find Gemini, okay? And I think a change of clothes would do you good, too.”
Pinocchio lets himself be picked up with little to no reaction, his gaze still glazed and his mouth clamped shut again, but at least he leans into the young woman’s hold near as much as he did before the incident, his silver-haired head pillowed on her shoulder as she carries him away, keeping a consistent stream of idle chatter going all the while. Mr. Venigni watches them leave silently, an unreadable look on his face – or at least, a look that would be unreadable for anyone who doesn’t know him as well as Pulcinella does.
The butler gives him a moment to regain his bearings, then clears his throat perfunctorily, hoping to catch the man’s attention. “Sir, if I might be so bold?”
Mr Venigni startles, but it’s a brief thing, and soon his full concentration is on the puppet in his service. “Yes, yes, of course,” he says, waving a distracted hand in the air. “Is something the matter, Pulcinella?”
There’s a forced cheerfulness in his voice that is easy to detect, but Pulcinella knows better than to call out that bluff now. He will be there when Master Lorenzini stops pretending, as he always has been, but pushing his luck too soon wouldn’t do either of them any good. “Does Master Carlo still intend on holding a funeral?”
“Oh. That.” The man sighs, shaking his head. Some of his usually carefully curated hair has escaped his control while he worked, and is now sticking up every which way, which doesn’t help his supposedly composed appearance at all. “Yes, I think he does. At least a proper burial- I suspect the city is still too dangerous for anything else.”
“Will you attend, sir?”
“I must, don’t I?” He glances away, as if seeing something no one else can, just like the child was doing earlier. “I suppose I owe it to him. Geppetto was- I thought I knew him well, once. He was a great man, before they…”
He trails off, then, but Pulcinella has understood perfectly all the same, and inclines his head in acknowledgment. “In that case, might I offer my services to look after the boy for the duration of it? My apologies if I’m overstepping, sir, but- he doesn’t look ready to witness such an event, and I imagine his brother will be preoccupied with other matters in the meantime.”
He didn’t craft this proposal for Pinocchio’s well-being, or rather, not just because of that. But ever since his Ergo awakened, there’s only one thing Pulcinella has never been able to withstand in full, and that is feeling useless – he needs to give everyone the proper time to mourn as they see fit, but that doesn’t mean he can’t find something he can do to help. If that something implies shielding a child who’s already shouldered so much death from seeing any more, then that’s all the better.
“That’s…very considerate of you.” Master Lorenzini turns to him again and smiles, and though it’s as wan and tired as Miss Eugénie’s was, it still illuminates him slightly for a moment, making the young boy who once had to witness his own father’s funeral resurface from under the glasses and mustache.
“Thank you, Pulcinella. I’ll extend the offer to Carlo- I’m sure he will appreciate it, and Romeo as well.”