Keep Me Company
By Shahrezad1
Summary: Red Cricket Prompt via acoupletshort/Kedi,: He or she suffering from high fever, the other nursing him/her; delirious ramblings/confessions ensues. Storybrooke or FTL, flyffy or angsty - author's choice. :)
When Archie inherits a cold from a certain young patient of his, Granny sends Ruby off with a basket of heartening food for the good doctor. RubyXArchie.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. XD Lyrics, characters, even original fairy tales. They all belong to Disney or ABC or the generations of story tellers that have shared their tales over the centuries. I only own my imagination.
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"When you're under the weather, I'll fix a plate for you. When you're sad and worried, I'll wrap myself around you…" –The Best I Know, The Good Lovelies
Green eyes rolled as her grandmother went on and on about her task. She'd heard it all before and she would probably hear it again—Granny had always taken her lackadaisical attitude as inattentiveness. But interrupting in order to state that Yes, she knew, only seemed to delay the old lady more, so Ruby remained silent. For now.
"Do you have that, Ruby, or do I need to tell you again?" Mrs. Lucas asked sharply, noting the girl's cocked hip and folded arms. The waitress was actually dressed decently today, due to the weather, or she would never have chosen the girl for the job. Still, someone had to do it and Granny couldn't spare Cheryl right now, what with the lunch rush coming up.
And Ruby had been itching to leave since she'd clocked in that morning.
"Reheat the soup in the microwave, put the cocoa on the stove since the thermos isn't microwave-safe," the brunette responded drily, boredom coming off of her in waves, "the blanket is for Archie, the bone for Pongo, and make sure to ask if Hopper'd like me to take his dog for a walk." She flicked her eyes toward the rain outside distastefully, imagining what it might do to her high-heeled boots after parading along the sidewalk.
"Good, now skedaddle."
The young woman scoffed in irritation, throwing an annoyed, "whatever," over her shoulder, but she only kept it up until she was just out of sight from the diner. After that her shoulders dropped, one hand shoved into her pocket as the other gripped a cherry-colored umbrella. The basket her grandmother had given her hung off of her unoccupied wrist, but she wasn't too worried about the contents—their containers were, for the most part, water tight.
Mostly she was caught in thought. It was weird to be out and about during the middle of the day, she noted, as accustomed as she was with working all the time. And the rain had a sort of…solitude to it, the pitter-patter of raindrops soothing her restlessness. Ruby knew why the feeling existed, of course, the thought of leaving always weighing heavily upon her mind. But lately it had felt worse for some reason, as though some time limit was pressing down upon her brain.
It was rare for her to feel comfortable in her skin lately for that very same reason, but at least this wasn't one of those anxious moments. The wildness of nature seemed to console something within her, for the time being at least. Allowing her the chance to ponder and perhaps reflect on the task at hand. That is, delivering a 'Get Well Basket' to Archibald Hopper.
The road to Archie's was short and familiar to Ruby, only a stone's throw from the Bed and Breakfast in the more residential side of Storybrooke. Neighbors as they had always been, she'd been acutely aware of the little red brick house (with green shingles) for years. But for reasons unknown, perhaps some sort of force blocking the thought, she'd never gotten up the gumption to visit her friend at home.
Well, it wasn't really that they were friends, per se, just something a little more than acquaintances and less than constant companions. And sure, she had wondered what he did with his free time besides, well, counseling. And walking his dog. But that was just curiosity, of course. To fill in for the conversations that they didn't have over coffee and pie.
In fact, he was one of the only men in town that didn't blatantly give her the once-over time and again. Which made him rather…fascinating. And strangely off-limits at the same time. He set off her blood-hound curiosity, but also lit within her a certain shyness that was almost foreign in its existence. In a way releasing a part of her that she'd long thought lost beneath the thick lipstick and big hair.
Biting her lower lip, Ruby wondered absently if perhaps she should have let her grandmother send someone else. Someone a little more…professional. Sending her on a mission like this made more sense, of course, from a practical standpoint. Because in delivering the care package she could backtrack on over to their property and check in on the Bed and Breakfast's single occupant, some chick from out of town.
But…even the idea of knocking on his door sent thrills of trepidation through her. Never mind the unassuming white picket fence, straight out of a chick flick, or the hanging swing that was meant for two but probably had only ever held one.
Walking up the pavement, she folded her umbrella and hung it on her unoccupied wrist before confronting his home. The mat said "Welcome," the door was decorated with a single wooden star, within which his house number had been carved, and the windows were covered with a kind of burgundy drapery one might see hanging in an old gypsy caravan. A pair of worn work gloves sat near the edifice's entryway, along with an incongruously placed pair of sandals, and she wondered when he might have the time to do something so mundane as gardening.
But those thoughts and observations were mere flickers as Ruby hesitated, her fisted hand hovering over his green-painted door. She felt like she'd spent the entire morning eating cocoons, a heavy wet-cotton deadweight within her stomach, and that they were all transforming into butterflies in a single instant, fluttering and rushing through her uneasy middle section.
The decision of 'to knock, or not to knock,' was taken out of her hands, however, as a loud barking noise sounded, followed by frantic scratching.
Expression blanking in sudden anxiety, Ruby was prepared to bolt when the door was unceremoniously unlocked, with a few muffled curses on the side. And then there stood Doctor Archibald Hopper in full, outfitted at his most casual in a robe and slippers, one set of fingers hooked around Pongo's straining collar.
He blinked blearily up at her, glasses off and opposite hand still on the doorknob, "R-Ruby? What are you doing here?"
Soup.
Upward her arms went, laden with the weight of responsibility. In the process she managed to clip his arm, but he did little more than wince at the contact. Meanwhile Ruby babbled.
"Gran-food. I mean, Granny sent food. Soup. And cocoa."
"Oh," his lips rounding into a little moue of surprise, Archie continued blinking at her for a few moments more before the man motioned her in.
The waitress's jaw immediately began working overtime, "No, ah, I actually have to, um, go. You see I have to check in on the B&B and-."
Thunder clapped louder than her excuses and the skies abruptly released their contents, wind and rain splashing against the back of her legs.
Gasping, the young woman stumbled forward and Archie released his door to steady her. But his fingers were hardly strong enough for the act, shaking as they were, and over-warm. Far too warm. Her chin brushed against his shoulder, mind blanking momentarily at the contact. But her shock turned into a concerned frown as Ruby instinctively put her hand out to feel his forehead, umbrella hanging from the un-basketed wrist.
"Archie, you're burning up!" she exclaimed, "you really should be in bed."
He swatted the air unsteadily and nearly lost Pongo in the process, "I-I'm fine. It's j-just a little cold."
"No, it's not," she stated, firmly, and slipped her hand next to his in order to take over the dog. Sensing the presence of what could only be termed an Alpha Female, the Dalmation stilled within her grip. While she tried to ignore the feel of her skin brushing against Archie's roughened fingertips.
A distant part of her wondered where he might have gained such calluses, being a paper pusher. But that really wasn't important right now.
"C'mon, Archie, we need to get you to bed. Or at least the couch," she amended. Of course the first thing she'd mention was Archie's bedroom—what was she thinking?
"O-okay," he mumbled, tottering slightly as Ruby closed the door behind her and released her grip on the canine. She paused a moment as Pongo leapt on her a time or two in greeting, then they shuffled forward and into the living room with her arm tucked under his, post-divesting herself of her burdens on the closest counter.
A rickety brown armchair lay in a reclined position before an ancient-looking television set but she ignored it in favor of the black leather couch. Directing the man to lie down before turning to tuck the blanket Granny had sent around his form. Archie tried to protest, in that bleary half-coherent way people had after having partaken of cough syrup on an empty stomach. But she was having none of it, pushing the therapist's shoulders into the cushions until he stayed prone. Only then did she snatch up a tasseled pillow, shoving it behind his head. Pongo assisted her the rest of the way by leaping up onto his master's lap, keeping Hopper stationary—for now.
"Alright, stay there," Ruby commanded in a mature tone she'd never used before. Then, rushing away after snatching up her basket once again, she scrambled into the kitchen. First, soup. Opening and closing a series of cabinets eerily similar in design to the ones back home, Ruby eventually found a container made to go in the microwave, then poured her main dish in. Afterwards she started on the hot cocoa, trying not to think about the fact that she was in Archie Hopper's kitchen, much less his house.
Objects banged a little as the girl searched out a pan, and her patient groaned in response to the noise.
"Sorry!" Ruby called out, then immediately cursed under her breath and repeated more quietly, "I mean, sorry."
"Es okay," the redhead murmured and she could see a hand flop a bit on his dog's head from the gap created by the open door. The waitress nodded and went back to the task at hand.
Having worked in the "Family Business" for as long as she could remember, Ruby was pretty familiar with cooking in general. But there was something about being in this place—a place where she shouldn't be, and where she hadn't been invited in—which flustered her. She didn't know where things were stored, for one, and for another…heavens, being alone with the town Psychiatrist made her feel decidedly on the spot.
She guessed that half of her awkwardness probably had to do with curiosity—she was tempted to try and find out what the man thought of her. But the other half was worried that what came from his mouth might be negative. Heavens, the Doctor was closed-mouthed enough, but at least he was polite about it. But supposing he did reveal something which stated that underneath it all he felt only disgust or dislike…well, she wasn't sure how she would handle it.
Ruby searched for a tray of some sort to carry the edibles in before settling on a cookie sheet. She'd discovered an odd little mug for the cocoa, lines drawn across three sections of the porcelain cup with the words Id, Ego and Superego written next to them. The brunette had no idea what that meant, but it was sturdy and would work for her purposes.
Then she was once again at Archie's side, shooing Pongo away so that the therapist could breathe easier. He blinked up at her, slowly, and Ruby realized for the first time that his eyes were a clear, crystalline blue. She'd never really noticed before, what with the usual tortoise-shell glasses. Her imagination became fixated on the color for a slight moment, imagining fields of tiny pale flowers. What were they called again? Forget-me-nots?
Flushing red at the image her mind had created and the flower supplied, Ruby shook her head and handed the tray of food to him. But when his hands proved to be too unsteady she retrieved the edible articles and uncertainly began spoon-feeding him.
He gulped slowly, eyelids drooping with each swallow and soon enough he was opening his mouth instinctively, totally blind to the world. Only then did Ruby allow herself to examine her patient. From his pale stubble to his prominent Adam's apple, visible only now that he wasn't up to his chin in formal wear, he was every bit of a man. He hid behind the gentleman persona requisite for his occupation so much that sometimes she forgot. It made her wonder if he had dreams the same way regular men did, men without secrets. Dreams of family and love and children. She wondered if Doctor Hopper had ever actually dated before, a concept that would never have previously come to mind.
The neck of Hopper's sleeping shirt, a basic dark blue tee that she was surprised he even owned, revealed the lightest edged of blonde curls just below his collarbone. And a smattering of freckles dusted his neck and lower, of all things, attracting her eye like bees to honey. It was as though he'd gone to the beach but once and had come back permanently stained by the venture. His typically fluffy hair was even more unmanageable than usual and her long fingernails itched to lose themselves in the texture and she attempted to smooth down the unruly curls.
Which would, of course, be a breach in personal space, she knew, and so set aside the now empty tray with a sigh. Instead Ruby pulled the blanket more firmly around him, deciding to smooth the fabric across his solid chest at the last minute then pausing as though waiting for some sort of censure. Of course, there was none. Archie was asleep. Or so she thought.
Readying herself to rock back on her heels and into an upright position, the waitress gasped as fingers wrapped around her left wrist, pulling her off balance until she had no choice but to lean into Archie's space. Her right hand landed on his shoulder as she attempted to correct the move. He merely smiled, eyes closed, and tugged her near enough to whisper in her ear.
"T-thank you…" the psychiatrist murmured through fumbling lips. The hand covering her pulse rubbed the spot there and Ruby's features flushed hot and cold all at once as her heart rate skyrocketed. But that was nothing next to her surprise mere moments later.
"I'm grateful," he dreamily confessed, still loosely gripping her wrist, "you s-saw me…when no one else did…"
Ruby was dumbfounded, staring at the redhead with a mouth gaping in shock. But with his eyes closed he seemed to only be in a half-lucid dream. And all the while his thumb kept rubbing over that same place, as though it was a lifeline between them.
"I always did…love…Red…" the word was paired with his free fingers feeling at her hair, tangling in the highlighted strands there and sending a shock through her system. Almost like déjà vu, but with an increase of heat, shock, and strong attraction. As though the statement should mean more to her than him just telling her his favorite color.
"Red…" he continued, nearly tumbling off the couch as her hair got tangled in his grip and he leaned into her presence, shifting so that her right hand now rested against the place between shoulder and neck, "surrounded by it…a-always near me…pocket…h-holding me close…"
Heart in her throat, the waitress was frozen as she watched Doctor Hopper slowly still. She almost couldn't look away, if not for movement seen in the corner of her vision.
Turning, wide-eyed, Ruby found Pongo watching their interaction before turning to gaze in her direction. And if it was possible for dogs to show emotion she would have said then that his at that moment was knowing. She frowned.
"Don't give me that look," she hissed. The Dalmation only blinked and shrugged away, as though to say it wasn't any of his business what happened between her and his master. By which time Archie's grip had loosened in true sleep. She was able to remove herself from the hold around her left wrist easily but extracting her hair from his fingers was nearly impossible. He'd grasped onto the material like a child and wasn't letting go, one thick lock wrapped around a finger on his left hand like a wedding ring.
But even that didn't last forever as she rubbed his digits to loosen them, the flesh soft and freckled against her own.
Distancing herself from the highly personal—and slightly nerve-wracking—interaction, Ruby got up to turn off the television set, its program long-muted. Dishes then had to be put away and there was the thermostat to check. Half of her was hypothetically running from the hills after having such an…unexpectedly personal interaction, and the other half…. The other half was occupied with watching him sleep from afar, the man's hair on end and breathing finally deep.
Her fingers twitched with the desire to…to…what? Kiss him on the forehead? Despite being neighbors they hardly knew one another. Besides, he could very well be talking about someone else from his past; another woman within whom his affections lay. And he wasn't even her type—there was no cause for the romantic attachment welling up within her and she knew it. Feeling her face fill with heat, Ruby tried to shove the urge away. But she somehow knew that she would be revisiting it later…for further pondering…
The young woman settled for resting her hand against his head in a search for a general temperature. He didn't appear to be burning up, so she withdrew. But not until after lingering a few seconds more. She would allow herself to feel guilty about it later.
But even then it would be another memory for her to hold close on those nights when her date-of-the-week stood her up, or her grandmother somehow insinuated that she was an inexperienced child. Even though the likelihood of Archie remembering anything was rather low, she would cherish the feelings he'd created, even in a half-awake daze. And maybe…hope for a future in which she found someone as wonderful as Doctor Hopper. Someone who loved so deeply that it was the first thing his unconsciousness shared when the barriers of social niceties were lifted and self restraint was removed by way of illness.
Pulling the blanket up to his chin one last time, she deposited the bone Granny had sent with her in Pongo's bowl then retrieved her things and turned to leave, locking the door behind her. Outside she found her umbrella suddenly unnecessary, for it had stopped raining.
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AN: acoupletshort/Kedi, you sly dog. ;D You gave me the prompt knowing that I already had this half-finished. –laughs- Well, I'm still grateful for it. ^^
-clears throat- Sorry, to explain…I have recently become aware of the website that is known as Tumblr. It's fascinating and addicting and has more RedCricket on it than you would ever expect (not even joking here. If you're looking for some more of our favorite pairing, check the website out). And one of the delights of Tumblr is the spontaneity of posts and interactions. Especially the suggesting of prompts. (For the unfamiliar) prompts are fanfiction ideas based on a single line or concept, usually given to interpretation by the author (provided that they are open-ended). I asked for RedCricket prompts and received two lovely concepts, the latter from Kedi.
Whom already knew that I had this in the works. XD
So thank you, wonderful and delightful Kedi, without which this would never have gotten finished. Much love. –grins-
Story notes: I gave Archie calluses because who do you think taught Gepetto how to work wood and make puppets? And if the curse caused him to take up his human form, it would make sense that he would regain it as it was before he became a cricket.
Also, this is unintentionally similar to the plot of another recent one-shot, "Small Packages." Oops. I didn't realize it until I went back and started editing this one. –whistles innocently- Oh, well. At least it proves that she's essentially the same person in her interactions, whether before or after the curse was lifted. :)
The original concept was actually conceived a while back when I was horribly (horribly, horribly) sick and wondered who would take care of Archie in the same situation (as my roommate had taken over that responsibility during my own illness-induced confinement).