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

[the_fairest]

One of the great things about Storybrooke being a small town is that it is relatively safe. Oh, they still encourage their children to come in from playing on the lawns a few hours after dark and a town, no matter how small, still has a curfew ordinance.

But it's a safe place to walk at night -- whether that's because it's a safe town, or because no one would dare have to face the Mayor at midnight for getting caught doing something -- so that is just what Mary Margaret is doing.

She couldn't sleep and she didn't want to wake Emma, so she's walking. Watching the stars, and the street lamps, and listening to the magical sound of the crickets.

[stillsmallvoice]

As chance would have it, Doctor Hopper picks the same quiet time to head home for the night. He handles Pongo's leash gently, his umbrella hooked over the opposite elbow as he sways slightly on his feet - not quite drunk but decidedly fuzzy feeling.

"Ah, uh... Mary Margaret," he lifts his chin toward her, offering a soft smile; his cheeks ruddy with drink and contemplation. "You're out late tonight."

[the_fairest]

She smiled, a little embarrassed to be caught, but brightly as well. He'd survived the mines, and the night itself just felt so. Peaceful, tonight.

"Just walking. Are you headed home, Dr. Hooper?"

Did he really go back to work even after his long day?

[stillsmallvoice]

His slim smile takes on a sheepish upturn and he let's out a soft laugh, absently brushing his fingertips over the slight abrasion on his head.

"Ah, yes... I suppose we are."

He looks down at the sidewalk and then back up at her; "I suppose time got away from me."

It's not a lie, but doesn't nearly speak the truth. "A lot on your mind this evening?"

[the_fairest]

"I couldn't sleep, and I didn't want to wake Emma by moving around in the apartment too much." Which isn't the exact same answer, but it is the reason she's out here. She supposes anytime you're alone for an extended period you end up thinking a lot.

"It seemed a nice night to take walk. Peaceful, with all the stars, and the crickets."

[stillsmallvoice]

He understands all too well.

"It is..." He replies quietly, shifting his umbrella from one side to the other to offer his elbow to her; "would you like an escort this evening? I'm sure Pongo wouldn't mind the extra exercise and I could use a cleared head."

The soft chirp makes him feel comfortable, and yet also a little unnerved by Henry's insistence that they were never there before.

[the_fairest]

"As long is you aren't troubling yourself?" Mary Margaret asked, to be sure first. Some concern, as well as an ability to back out if he needed to go home and rest. "You had one of the most eventful days had in Storybrooke today."

[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.

[ahuntsman]

It'll be some time later when there comes a knock on Archie's office door.

It's Sheriff Graham, though he hasn't come here on official business as Sheriff, exactly.

[stillsmallvoice]

Graham always knows when his light is on, and Archie's no stranger to opening his door at off hours.

"Sheriff," he smiles, opening the office door to him; "come in, you know my door's always open."

His cheeks have gone ruddy with a couple stiff drinks and he leads the way to his desk to retrieve another tumbler and the bottle; "Drink?"

[ahuntsman]

Graham raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.

In fact, he nods.

"Thank you," he says, idly looking about the small space.

[stillsmallvoice]

"It's been a long day," he pours out a heavy double for each of them and hands over the other man's without hesitation.

"I would hope you're not here on official business."

He'd also hope that were Regina going to make a retaliatory move against him she'd do it herself in broad daylight - but he knows all too well that's not how she operates$

[ahuntsman]

"No," the Sheriff assures him, accepting the drink with a polite nod and raising of his glass. "I'm not on any sort of official business, I assure you."

He takes a sip of his drink, relishing in the taste of fire traveling down his throat and burying itself somewhere in his gut.

He hasn't felt much for as long as he can remember, but the effects of a good scotch remind him that he can feel. Somewhere. Even if only temporarily.

"Are you all right, Doctor?"

[stillsmallvoice]

Archie drinks more slowly, sipping the warm scotch as he settles into his large chair. He scoffs slightly at his first thought, rather than the question itself - no, not fine. Not quite. "That depends, are you asking me as your friend, your therapist, or someone that was rescued from a mine shaft?"

[ahuntsman]

"As your friend, mostly," Graham says, moving to join the other man by the seats.

He takes the couch usually reserved for patients, putting his glass down on the table before him.

"But if it's a matter more serious than that ..."

[stillsmallvoice]

"Serious?" A faint smile lights on his lips, could it be considered serious? The words of a child, the fantasy of a child.

"No, not serious... just a bit on my mind."

He chuckles into his tumbler; "And you, sheriff?"

[ahuntsman]

Graham shakes his head.

"We can talk about it later," he assures the other man.

Possibly when they're not drinking themselves numb.

And now hardly seems like the right time to bring up the strange unsettling feeling he's been having.

[stillsmallvoice]

Archie can accept that answer, though he's all too aware that something is weighing on Graham's mind. There's a time for everything, and it's not always the present.

After a short pause, he asks; "How's Henry?"

[ahuntsman]

"Henry?" the Sheriff repeats, taking another sip of his drink.

He nods.

"Good. Better, now that Emma's here - as much as Regina doesn't want to admit it."

[stillsmallvoice]

A slightly chuckle crosses his lips again and he mutters; "Yeah, well... there's a lot of things that Regina won't ever understand about him." And in a way, he's pretty sure that's a good thing.

"Emma's good for him."