The journey back to the village was long and silent, the tension between Honest John and the rest of the group palpable. The Blue Fairy led them with an unshakable grace, her light guiding the way through the winding paths that led them away from the cursed land of Pleasure Island after getting off the barge. Despite the faint glow surrounding her, a deep sadness lingered within John's heart. The scar on his cheek, still fresh from the Coachman's cruel knife, burned with every step, a constant reminder of his mistakes and his fear.

Gideon, always by his side, walked silently, his steps steady but quiet. He said nothing, but John could feel the weight of his presence—comforting, like a soft blanket, though it did little to alleviate the gnawing emptiness inside him. His tail, once full of confidence, was now perpetually tucked between his legs, hidden in shame. John couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't belong anywhere. He had never truly been loved, never had the comfort of a warm home or the safety of a caring parent.

As they reached the village, the familiar sights of the homes and streets brought a strange sense of unease to John's heart. He had seen what families were supposed to look like from a distance, but he had never known that kind of warmth. Now, as he stood at the edge of the village, he watched the reunions unfolding before him.

"Mama! Papa!"

The boys were now being embraced by their mothers and fathers. The air was filled with tears of joy, laughter, and the tender exchanges between family members. Fathers lifted their sons in the air, mothers kissed their children's cheeks, and the entire village seemed to buzz with the joy of reunions. John felt the sting of isolation like never before.

He stood there, invisible, a mere observer, his heart aching with a longing he could hardly name. He had never had a mother to run to, never had a father who would embrace him with pride. The world had always seen him as a trickster, a liar, a conman—a fox that nobody could trust. No one would ever want him.

Tears welled in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away, ashamed of his weakness. He had no right to feel sorry for himself—not after all the harm he had caused.

But it didn't stop the ache, for it lingered there in his heart.

Gideon glanced up at his partner, noticing the wetness in his friend's eyes. 

"W-Why can't I have that, Giddy? W-was I always destined to-to be with no real family?" He sniffled, feeling his body slowly move backward.

He took a step back, retreating into the shadows of a nearby alley, away from the warmth and love that surrounded him. He tucked himself into a small corner, his knees drawn up to his chest. With his head buried in his arms and his face hidden from the world, John let out a strangled sob.

He had never known what it was like to be loved. He had never known the comfort of a mother's arms or a father's proud gaze. He had been nothing but a pawn in the Coachman's cruel game, using others for his own gain. And now, even though he was free, the emptiness inside him felt suffocating.

In that moment, everything he had done—the tricks, the lies, the conning—came crashing down on him like a tidal wave. He had spent his life searching for something, but what had he found? Nothing but loneliness and despair.

As he curled into himself, sobs wracking his body, he felt a presence near him. At first, he didn't look up, not wanting anyone to see him so broken. But then, soft, gentle hands touched his fur.

At first, John tensed, his body rigid with fear. He was used to harsh hands, hands that had pulled him into servitude and punished him for his mistakes. He flinched, expecting the sting of a whip, the roughness of the Coachman's grip. But instead, the hands were gentle—tender.

He slowly looked up, and through blurry eyes, he saw the faces of the boys who had been freed from their curse, their wide eyes filled with curiosity and kindness.

One of the boys, a little older than the rest, reached out and gently stroked John's fur, his touch soft and comforting. Another boy, a little smaller, leaned in and placed a hand on John's shoulder.

"Are you okay?" the older boy asked softly. His voice was quiet, kind—filled with warmth that John could scarcely comprehend. "You helped us... we wouldn't be free without you."

John blinked, trying to clear the tears from his eyes. He felt his chest tighten with emotion, and for a moment, he couldn't speak. His throat felt tight, as if the words wouldn't come.

"I—" He choked on his own voice, the lump in his throat growing. "I don't know what to do."

The little boy beside him smiled, his eyes full of understanding. "You're safe now," he said simply, as if that were enough.

The simple words—You're safe now—seemed to pierce through the wall of self-loathing and isolation that John had built around himself. He had spent his entire life running, lying, tricking others to protect himself. But here, now, there was no trickery. No lies. Just kindness.

John's body trembled as the tears finally broke free. His sobs were raw, his heart heavy with the weight of all he had lost and all he had never known. He buried his face in his paws once more, his body shaking with the force of his grief.

But then, he felt it again—the gentle touch of the boy's hand on his fur, and the comforting presence of the others surrounding him. They didn't mock him. They didn't reject him. They simply stayed, offering their quiet support.

In that moment, the Blue Fairy appeared beside him, her light radiating softly in the evening dusk. She smiled at him, her gaze filled with warmth and compassion.

John, still shaking, looked up at her, his heart full of confusion. "I don't deserve this," he whispered, the words barely escaping his lips. "I've done terrible things. I've hurt people... I—"

The Blue Fairy knelt down beside him, her eyes filled with understanding. She gently placed a hand on his head, smoothing back the fur with a soft touch. "You are not defined by your mistakes, Honest John," she said, her voice like the softest song. "You are worthy of love and kindness, just as much as anyone else. It is never too late to change, to seek redemption."

John shook his head, the tears still falling freely. "I don't know how to change," he whispered, his voice filled with despair. "I don't know how to be loved... how to... how to be loved."

The Blue Fairy smiled, her expression gentle. "Sometimes, we just need to learn to accept the love we are given."

As she spoke, the Blue Fairy began to sing. The melody was soft and sweet, a lullaby that seemed to carry with it the weight of a thousand unspoken words. The song wrapped around John like a warm blanket, the words soothing and familiar, even though he had never heard them before. It was as if the song had been written for him, just for this moment.

The Blue Fairy's voice was soft and sweet, like the wind through the trees, carrying the weight of love and healing with every note:

"Though lost in shadows, you still may find,

A heart that's kind, a path redefined.

The past may haunt, the scars may stay,

But hope will lead another way.

And love will find its way to you,

In the darkest night."

The melody wrapped around John like a cocoon, each note easing his pain, each word healing the broken parts of him that he hadn't even realized were still fractured. Slowly, he felt the weight in his chest begin to lift, his breath coming easier, his sobs quieter. The Blue Fairy even held her hand against his cheek, the cut fading away.

As the last note faded, John looked up at the Blue Fairy, his heart pounding but filled with a strange sense of peace. The tears had stopped, and though he still felt the ache of his past mistakes, it was no longer suffocating. There was something in the air now—a sense of possibility.

The boys, still standing around him, smiled softly.

"You're not alone anymore," the older boy said. "We're here for you."

Gideon also gives one of his smiles, taking John's hand like how a brother would, making John sniffle softly, smiling weakly back at the cat.

John's heart swelled with emotion. He felt, for the first time in his life, like he could belong. Like there was hope. He had been so afraid of love, so afraid of the kindness he had never known. But now, surrounded by these children—these boys who had been freed, who had every right to hate him—he felt something new stirring within him. Something he had never allowed himself to feel before: acceptance.

"Thank you," John whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for... for showing me what love really is."

The Blue Fairy smiled, her eyes filled with pride. "The path to redemption is long, Honest John, but you are not walking it alone."

And as John sat there, surrounded by the children, the Blue Fairy's words sank deep into his heart. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel like a failure. He didn't feel like a liar or a trickster. He simply felt... worthy.

And for the first time, he allowed himself to rest.

.....

Decided it would be fun to have a little more variety in my profile with more of my favorite animated characters alongside Brooklyn who is still my number one boi. Honest John is another one of them. This story just came into my head one day and I just wanted to get it out there. Especially in the clip where the Coachman says 'they never come back as BOYS!' with that red faced devil smile of his that the remake unmercifully cut out, I knew the fox had some kind of soul in him that the Coachman never could obtain despite his checkered past.

If John had been fully on board with the Coachman he would have laughed with him instead of looking terrified of that smile. John knew he had made a deal with the devil during that moment. I had wanted to write what happened to him and the boys after John had lured Pinocchio to Pleasure Island.

I'll never, ever support the live action remake of Pinocchio since it disgraces what the Walt Disney company had built its reputation on; full length animated features, not live action CG hybrid abominations that we have today. This is to remember the man Walt Disney himself. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be writing my Brooklyn fanfics now, nor would have I met any of my friends on here. I don't care if people call me a hater but I'll always support traditional animation over live action remakes since animation is for everybody, not just for kids.