Let Your Conscience Be Your Guide

[stillsmallvoice]

There's significance in the wisdom of a child, even more in one like Henry. It's no small matter that Archie Hopper's moment of illumination came at the bottom of a mine shaft where they both could have died.

And above all, there's the very real significance that he's stood up to the one person in Storybrooke, outside of perhaps Mr. Gold whom he only associates with when absolutely necessary, that could crush him like a bug.

Yet, once Marco has bid him goodnight he and Pongo return to the office and a stack of files. And mostly full bottle of scotch, leading to a tumbler of scotch... and quite naturally a belly of scotch as he considers the decisions he's made.

[ooc: Episode tag to 1x05, finding my feet so to speak. Feel free to tag in.]

Comments

[stillsmallvoice]

He chuckles dryly, "Never a trouble." Hard to trouble a troubled man, not that Miss Mary Margaret ever could - she's one of the least troubling people he's had the pleasure of knowing.

"I suppose it was a bit... Rough." He shakes his head, looking back to her easily enough; "But it's done now. Henry's safe... and I'm safe."

[the_fairest]

Mary Margaret nodded, and turned slightly, that they could keep walking. Asking with a her tone, rather than a question. "I was surprised to see you would have returned to work, or stayed so late."

She gave him a faintly warmer smile. Still shy, but confidingly complimenting. "If it were me, I would have gone home, curled up with the warmest blankets, the biggest cup of tea and a favorite book."

[stillsmallvoice]

He laughs again, a soft nervous sound.

"I suppose that would have been a preferable idea, but I wanted to read over some files and you know how it is. Ten minutes turns to a few hours and a few drinks." He lifts up the hand holding the dog's leash to push back his glasses with a somewhat graceless palm - Pongo obediently slowing as he did.

[the_fairest]

"I know that one. Grading has done that to me more often than I'd realized, before Emma was here to notice it or drag me out from under it," Mary Margaret agreed, crossing her arms loose over her stomach.

"Hopefully it wasn't anything too taxing?" The question is easily straight froward, without the slightest list into inquiring about his work itself.

[stillsmallvoice]

He considers the questions she's not asking more than the one that she has, and there are no answers for it.

"No," he answers softly, "nothing I can't handle."

He looks back over to her, letting their steps slow to a casual stroll. "And how are things with Miss Swan?"

[ooc: That'll teach me to thread tired. ;)]

[the_fairest]

Mary Margaret considered that for a few steps as they kept walking. "Good. Today hit her a lot harder than she expected it to, I think, but she'll be okay. A good night's sleep will take off the worst of the rough edges of it."

Anyone who had been watching her knew her attachment to Henry had grown with the duration her stay, but having to face that, with chance of losing him, might have been an unexpected, rude awakening as things went.

[stillsmallvoice]

"I think it had that effect for all of us," he let out a soft sigh.

"I'd like to talk to her, though."

She wouldn't come to him, he understands that - but all the same there were things that should be said.

[the_fairest]

"You could stop by the station tomorrow?" Mary Margaret suggested.

Even if finding her to talk to, and getting her to talk , with Emma were too vastly different things.

[stillsmallvoice]

Archie considers the option and nods slowly; "I think I will."

After a short pause, her apartment not far from their path, he asks; "How are things at the hospital?"

[the_fairest]

Mary Margaret could see it from here even. The single window that glowed softly in the night, where she'd left one lamp in the living room on. Cozy and welcoming from the night, even as her arms tightened around her middle.

Because the thoughts and the answer would not be.

She pressed her lips together. "I resigned tonight."

Okay. So, maybe there was a reason she couldn't sleep.

[stillsmallvoice]

"I see," he responds easily, ever the professional even after a few drinks and a stressful day ended with so many things unanswered. "You were unhappy?"

He knows it's about David... Her Prince Charming if Henry's tales are to believed - which given the day he's had, is an amusing thought to consider.

[the_fairest]

"The opposite actually." It falls out of her mouth, surprising her. She hadn't admitted as much to Emma even so outright. Why had it suddenly felt like she should tell him, could trust him?

[stillsmallvoice]

He nods again, subtly slowing their steps to give her time if she needs to talk.

"David." It isn't a question so much as letting her know that he's put some things together.

[the_fairest]

Her shoulders tense at the name, very noticeably. But not as noticeable, except to her, as how hard the sudden sharp feeling of wrongness in the center of her heart spikes. That every smart thought today, every best decision for all of them, all of it was wrong.

"How did yo-- Oh," She nodded once, looking down, with an expression more like a wince. "Henry."

[stillsmallvoice]

"Don't worry, Mary Margaret. I'd never break confidence." It's not a confirmation, nor a denial. While she is not technically under doctor-patient confidentiality, she may as well be. It wouldn't be right any other way.

"If you'd like to talk about it, as friends of course, ear is always open."

[the_fairest]

"I'm not sure there is anything to talk about," Mary Margaret admitted, shaking her head. Even as with her arms still crossed, her hands covered over her elbows, holding tighter. "It was the smartest choice to make. To take myself out of the picture, so he can focus on what is important in his life."

Each word feels as sharp as glass. But they are true, they have to be, so she keeps saying them. "Finding his memories from before the coma, and working on his life with Kathryn."

Instead of anything -- everything -- else.

[stillsmallvoice]

Archie sighs and tentatively reaches out to her, letting his free hand rest on her bent elbow.

"You don't sound so sure about that."

[the_fairest]

Why was she blinking, looking up at the suddenly unfocused sky, as though she might start crying? Why did a single touch, one that was far more than professional, but actually comforting, make it feel so much bigger than someone she had only met so shortly ago?


Mary Margaret shook her head, quickly, breathing in, not looking to him directly. She settled for, finally, "I have to be. I already put in my letter. And he's just...confused."


No. That wasn't good enough. She had to say it. "Married."

[stillsmallvoice]

It's a story he's heard before, even in Storybrooke.

He squeezes her elbow fondly and stops their casual gait to look her in the face directly. "I'm sorry," he murmurs softly, "it's not fair at all."

[the_fairest]

Mary Margaret looked at Dr. Hopper, teary-eyed, because he'd stopped her, stopped them from walking. Because she couldn't stop herself. Even as she nodded, jaw momentarily locked and lips pressing together, trying very much to not let this go past teary into actually crying.






"No. It isn't." Her voice cracked a little, when she could manage words again. She swallowed and took in a breath through her teeth, ashamed for even admitting these things. "But it'll stay only that, now."


Because one of them had to be an adult. And only one of them was the confused patient in a hospital bed. Even if he said she was the only real thing in his entire world since waking.

One of them had to be the adult, to make the right decisions.

[stillsmallvoice]

"Shh..." the gentle squeeze on her elbow is lifted and he lets his arm wrap around her shoulder, guiding the woman against his sweater vest. Call it unprofessional, but sometimes a hug can make all the difference.

"Follow your heart, Mary Margaret - even when it's hurting... you know what's right."

[the_fairest]

She shouldn't. It's her thought as she sniffles, and a tear falls. She didn't even do this with Emma. But her hand balls into a fist and she leans against him, temple finding cloth. Even if she shouldn't.

Shouldn't be almost falling apart over someone she barely knows. Be leaning into someone she only knows distantly. Be thinking that something feels right, even among all the pain everywhere. Whatever it is.

That the right thing has to be her choice. Has to be.

"I - I'm sorry. I don't -" Ever feel as strong as the choice she's made.

[stillsmallvoice]

"It's okay," he whispers, the arm around her shoulder tightening as Pongo sniffs at her feet - nosing against her ankle.

"Shh... listen..." subconsciously, he strokes his palm over the back of her head only once - attempting to draw the pain away from her.

"We both know that you don't want to hurt anyone, but sometimes the truth has to hurt."

The thought is out of nowhere for him, plucked from the vault within him that didn't come from a textbook or a lecture... it just feels like the right thing. Like what she needs.

[the_fairest]

Somehow his voice is far more comforting, with the same first words, than her own mind ever was all evening. When he says it's going to be okay she believes him. If only for one second. If only right before the second tear, another flicker of memory.

Mary Margaret tries to hold on it, even as it falls like sand through her fingers. But then he keeps talking, and it ebbs. Almost like the beat of a wave against that same beach of shifting sand.

And she nods, trying to say she does understands, even if it is more to the sweater vest in front of her eyes when they open, so she can rub her right eye. She knows she made the right choice. Maybe it wouldn't even be the right choice if it didn't hurt so much.

[stillsmallvoice]

"You have a good heart, Mary Margaret," he continues, squeezing slightly harder when he feels the rise and fall of a silent sob.

"Listen to the little voice inside you... it won't lead you wrong."