Note from the Author: Thank you again for all the kind reviews. I am still pondering over the fairybacks, will let you know when any revisions are posted. Italics does seem to be the easiest solution, but my eyes have trouble getting through big blocks of italics for some reason. Ironic, I know, since all the author notes are exactly that.
I really do appreciate all the feedback, and I apologize for the delay getting this posted. Alas, I have my own dark curse that draws me away from time to time. Thanks for holding tight.
Also, please feel free to let me know if you have favorite characters you'd like to see. Ultimately, I'm writing this story because I can't wait for season 2. I want the story to feel similar to the show, but it's hard to have that "big moment" every chapter working with just Belle and Rumplestiltskin. I am completely open to suggestions. Hope you all enjoy.
Archie tossed his glass back, making short work of the brandy inside. It still stung a little, but he noticed some chagrin that it was getting easier to swallow. He would have to cut himself off soon, he was sure. After all, it turned out alcoholism did indeed run in his family. He remembered the little tin flask that always seemed to be in his father's jacket.
Everything about this situation was hard, but the hardest part was that Archie couldn't answer the question he had been posing to his patients, "Do you think your past is worth remembering?" His father's flask – had that been only one of the man's many vices or the last evidence of a long dead conscience?
Pouring himself another, Archie marked a date on his calendar for when he would dry out. For now he was willing to take strength from anywhere, anything to keep him on his feet. This moment was his big battle, what his character had been designed for. Everyone was in extreme doubt, unsure of who they were and who they wanted to be. Whether in the old land or Storybrooke, these were the trials that fell to him.
Archie had been working 20 hour days for weeks: filing paperwork, fielding urgent requests, seeing the influx of new patients, researching potential treatments. While there was some guidance from the old textbooks, the situation in Storybrooke was really one of a kind. He had to find a way to map uncharted psychological territory. The well being of the entire population depended on it.
The only problem was that Archie was certainly not "above it all". Remembering his parents and the nature of his friendship with Marcus was nothing short of devastating, soul-darkening. Not to mention the matter of Pinocchio – that threatened to bring him to his knees if his mind so much as skimmed the surface. Ultimately, Archie was aware of the fact that he himself was unstable and probably in need of professional help, but there was no one he could go to. Marcus was still his closest friend, but he was otherwise occupied at the convent most days – Archie certainly couldn't ask favors of him now.
The most exciting part of any hero's tale was often the most terrible for the hero. Once they made it over the climatic hurtle, there was time to put the pieces back together. Archie refused to falter now.
Finishing off the second glass, he made his way over to the coffee pot. His next appointment was in ten minutes. While the alcohol calmed his nerves, he needed to be alert enough to be engaging. Coffee was also fairly effective at masking the smell. Once he'd made a cup, he sat down to give the file one last review.
At first Archie had wondered if he should have a look at Henry's book, but decided against it. It was his practice to let patients reveal personal details at their own discretion. Medical history and public information was fair, but somehow reading the stories felt too voyeuristic.
Rose French made him want to rethink that decision. Mr. Gold had requested in no uncertain terms that family not be contacted without Rose's express request and consent. Moreover, he had refused to provide any account of her for the record. From her medical history, Archie was at a loss for where to start. He didn't specialize in abnormal conditions. Her medical record had a multitude of conflicting diagnoses from physical brain damage to schizophrenia . She'd been on a variety of heavy antipsychotic drugs, many of which were known to have heavy side effects that further complicated attempts to evaluate her behavior. Especially frustrating were the missing records – large gaps of time with no medical record, as though she were simply abandoned to her cell for months on end with no supervision. What had Regina been trying to do to this girl, and why? More importantly, how successful had she been?
Two light raps came at his door, and Archie tucked the file away. He never took notes during the sessions – he found that people didn't like to feel that they were being evaluated so much as having a conversation.
Rose smiled politely when he opened the door, but like many other newcomers her body language suggested that she didn't want to be here. Her expression was guarded, and she stood back in the hallway, allowing for ample space between them. Not surprised by the reaction, Archie did a quick survey to assess her physical well-being. The deep violet sweater she wore unfortunately drew out the circles under her eyes, and like last time she seemed a little too thin.
"Miss French, thank you for coming. Please come in."
As she settled into the couch, he offered her the few light refreshments he kept around the office – coffee, juice, pastries. Predictably, she declined. Taking his spot in the chair, he took a sip from his mug before settling back and smiling. All his former reverie was completely cleared, and he devoted his full attention to his patient.
"So what can I do for you?"
Rose looked a little baffled by the question. "Aren't you the one who wanted me to come?"
"Actually, you made the appointment."
Rose shifted uncomfortably. "Emma said it was the only way to keep from being sent back to the hospital."
Archie nodded, "Sheriff Swann is very good at what she does, but believe it or not her medical diagnosis doesn't carry a whole lot of weight."
"But she can call an ambulance."
"Absolutely, and that puts us in a tricky situation."
"Why?"
"Because it has never been my practice to enforce mandatory attendance. I can't think of anything less productive. I don't want to waste your time or mine if the only goal is checking a box." He gave her a moment to mull that over.
Rose twisted her fingers in her lap. "So where does that leave us?"
Archie smiled, "Just where we started. Finding out what I can do for you. If you'd be comfortable asking me some questions, I'd like you to use this time to determine whether or not I can help you, and if you want my help. Once we decide that I think the path ahead will be a little clearer."
Rose took a moment to choose her words carefully, trying not to sound harsh, "And if we decide we're not well matched?" He noted the display of sensitivity and awareness of others' opinions.
"If you decide," he corrected. "Then we come up with an alternate proposal. I think it's only fair to tell you that I have looked over your medical history," at this, Rose winced, "and about the only conclusion I can come to is that your treatment at the hospital was neither consistent, nor effective, nor ethical. It is my professional opinion therefore that your return can only be detrimental. Since there is no other hospital in Storybrooke we have no option to transfer you to another facility. To this end, it is my duty and responsibility to keep you out."
Rose only stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, and then a ghost of smile played across her face. "You won't send me back?" After having read the file, it hadn't been hard to guess that she would need reassurance that this wasn't a continuation of that experience. The first step was to offer her a stark differentiation between what he was offering and what she had previously been subjected to.
"Under no circumstances. And more importantly I will oppose any attempts to do so. Unfortunately in your case that might mean spending an hour together each week regardless."
"You'd be willing to lie?"
"Not at all. I'd be willing to invoke patient confidentiality. There's not a court in the world that will force me to break confidence with my patients, unless there is knowledge of ongoing criminal activity or abuse. Is that something I would need to be concerned about with you?
"No."
"Then we should be covered. So with that being said…what can I do for you, Miss French?"
Rose leaned back and looked out the window, thinking. Curiosity played against her features. "Do you mind if I ask who you are?"
He picked up the umbrella that rested against his chair, holding it up for evidence. "I'm Jiminy Cricket."
She smiled at him. "Let your conscience be your guide?"
"You've heard of me I see."
"Why aren't you a cricket then? With the magic back?" Archie noted that Rose had managed to shift the conversation away from herself. For now, he allowed it. It was far more important for him to build trust at this stage than to get answers. If it helped her to learn about him, then he would do whatever he could to make her comfortable.
"Honestly, I don't know. The magic is back, but it seems to have different effects here."
Rose cocked her head to one side. "Do you want to be a cricket again?"
The question was innocent enough, but it danced dangerously close to one Archie was avoiding. Refusing to be rattled, he took a deep breath and pause before answering, "I don't know."
Rose studied his face carefully, and her next question took him by surprise. "Are you ok?"
In all the years he'd been seeing patients, no one ever asked him that. It was a simple question to which one should answer "yes, I'm fine," but as his pulse quickened the brandy coursed through his system, making him feel raw. Archie took another moment to regain his composure, but his hesitation gave him away. Rose reached across the coffee table and covered his hand with her own.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I'm never sure what safe to ask. It must be really hard, especially with everyone coming to you for advice. Thank you for agreeing to see me anyway."
Archie smiled and cleared his throat. "It's my pleasure, though I fear I may be off to disappointing start."
Rose's response was genuine, authentic. She didn't have a deceptive bone in her body, "Actually, I am perfectly relieved to find a human doctor. It's not your fault at all…but I'm going to have a hard time trusting you. This helps a little."
"I think that's fair. I appreciate your honesty. And you are welcome to ask me any question you want to, I'll answer as best I can." It was not so much a psychological trait as a personal one, but Archie couldn't help but notice that Rose was very disarming. It would have to be to find a way under Mr. Gold's skin.
Rose folded her hands in her lap, her expression apologetic. "I don't mean to be direct, but I do have a couple of difficult questions I need to ask."
"Absolutely."
She took a deep breath, trying to make her expression hard. It didn't suit her face. "Are you going to drug me?"
Archie's face was serious. "I will not force you to take anything, so long as you are not posing an immediate threat to your physical safety or that of the people around you."
"Do you think that's a possibility? That I might be dangerous?"
"Seeing as this is the second time I've ever spoken with you, I honestly don't know. For now I'll defer to your judgment unless I see evidence to the contrary. I know that's not quite the answer you were looking for." Rose shook her head. "Would you mind if I gave a lengthier answer then?" She only waited for him to continue.
"Generally speaking, I prefer to minimize the use of medication as much as possible. I find that treating the symptoms often delays progress in treating the cause. However, there are some cases where the symptoms are so severe that they overwhelm a patient. In these cases nothing can be accomplished until that person is back in control." Standing, he went to the file cabinet and drew out Rose's file, handing it to her.
"This is your complete medical history. I'd like to lend it to you so you can read it. I find it so inconclusive that I would prefer to disregard it and base my opinions solely off my own observations. However, my own observation is that you've suffered at least one event of being overwhelmed, and this file corroborates that there have been others, some a little more… dramatic.
Rose's attempt at a hard face cracked around the edges, defeat showing through. Archie continued, "That being said, in most of these cases it would be impossible to rule out whether the heavy medication didn't play a role. I think our first objective is to find out how much of this is actually you before we plan any kind of treatment."
"They had stopped giving me medication. At least I thought so."
"It's unclear from the notes exactly what date that stopped, but based on the episodes I would suggest it's been nearly four months ago, as there is textbook evidence of withdrawal listed with your symptoms. Also, it was utterly irresponsible. You should have been weaned off slowly, stopping those drugs cold causes potentially life threatening consequences."
"I remember something like that."
Archie moved over to the couch besides her, making his frustration plain. It wasn't entirely professional, but he decided it was necessary, "Then before I continue, there's something I need to get off my chest."
Rose looked wary as she leaned away from him, but he continued. "I want to apologize to you. I am so sorry for the way you've been treated, and what you've gone through. The file you have in your hand is a disgrace and a blight. I know that coming here was no small effort and I am truly, truly sorry."
To his surprise and dismay, she started blinking furiously and turned her face away. "Miss French?"
She put one hand up, asking for a moment. "I didn't mean to upset you."
She shook her head, "I'm sorry it's just that…"she stopped and took several steadying breaths, "Everything that's happened, even from before…no one has ever said they were sorry for anything. I guess I wasn't expecting to hear it anymore."
Archie clasped his hands together, "I'm happy to be the first, but I certainly hope I won't be the last." Rose met his eyes with a grateful smile, and he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he moved back to his chair.
"So as a long, drawn out answer to your question," they both chuckled awkwardly, "Is that so long as you can manage your symptoms through other means, then I will not ask you to take any medicine. I would ask that you take some time to review your file and self-reflect. If there's something you think you need, I'll be happy to talk it over with you. I do have some suggestions that may help, but first you said you had some other difficult questions for me."
Rose tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Maybe we'll save the others for another time. I have some easier ones too."
"I'm at your service."
"Why do you do what you do?"
Archie laughed, "I thought you said easy questions."
"You don't have to answer if you don't-,"
"No no, I did say I would try. Give me a just a minute to think about it." Archie stood and paced in front of the windows. He certainly wasn't going to share his whole story, but how to simplify?
"I think all people have times in their life where they need help."
"I would agree."
"As a younger man, I had such a time. And the help I needed wasn't there. I turned to the wrong things, made the wrong decisions. Those decisions came with terrible consequences, and not just for me. I don't want anyone else to go through what I did. When a person needs help, Miss French, it's important for them and for everyone else that help be there," he shrugged, "I do my best."
Rose looked at the floor. "I can't tell if that's a desire to help or a desire to be forgiven." Perceptive.
"It's probably a little of both. I don't really care which."
"So basically, you don't care whether you're Archie or Jiminy?"
Archie shook his head. "Not yet. As long as I can do my work, not yet."
"I care. I mean about being me or…Belle."
Archie picked up his coffee mug again and took a sip. This was the very first personal detail she had offered, and it was telling. "Why?"
Rose sighed heavily and closed her eyes. "Dr. Hopper. I'm a mess. I'm incompetent, incapable, and weak. I'm not healthy, or happy. I could deal with that when it was all I could remember, but now…now I know that this is not me. This is not a person. Belle is my only chance. And as much as I hate it, I don't think medicine can help me be her again. I think I need magic, but I'm afraid of it."
Archie's attention was rapt. There was no choice more ripe with the potential for destruction. He kept his face open and receptive, hoping she would elaborate, "You were thinking that Mr. Gold could help?"
"No!" her response was nearly a snap, and she stopped herself with an apologetic look. "It can't be him. For him, magic is poison. I don't want him to use it for anything, least of all me."
"Does he know that?"
Rose smiled and studied the floor. "With all due respect, doctor, I'm not ready to talk about him yet." So she did understand how detrimental magic could be. He hoped that hesitation would give him some time to help her reflect.
"Fair enough. We'll table that for now. What is it about Belle that you want to get back?"
"Everything."
Archie adjusted his glasses. "Well, Miss French, you're right. I can't help you go backward. I don't know if magic can either. In my experience, there is never a way to undo what has been done. I know it's not what you want to hear, but there's a good chance that you can no longer be one or the other. Rose or Belle. You may have to learn to be both."
Rose looked up at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. "I don't think that's possible."
"Well you see that," Archie held his arms out in an offertory gesture, "is exactly where I can help. Since everyone in Storybrooke woke up, my job has not been about finding our way back. As far as I'm concerned there is no way back. It's about moving forward."
"Bu what if there is a way back?"
"When that becomes an option you'll have to consider it. But I think you have to agree that isn't one of the immediate choices. Right now you can either choose to recover or…stay exactly where you are. And that is entirely up to you."
Rose fixed him with a searching, penetrating look. That one came much more naturally to her. "And you really think you can help me? Fix me?"
"Yes and no. I think I can help you fix yourself." He leaned forward, returning her inquisitive look with an earnest one, "You deserve some happiness, Rose. But I need you to give me a chance."
A long moment passed as Rose studied him, considering. Archie waited patiently, not wanting to push her.
"All right. I'll let you give it your best shot. But I think our time is up."
Archie laughed, "That's my line."
They stood and shook hands, then he guided her to the door. She stepped through, but then turned. "One last thing, Dr. Hopper?"
"Archie is fine, but go ahead."
Rose took a step closer to him and put one hand on his arm. "Archie…you're not going to find forgiveness in that bottle."
The air rushed out of his lungs and his mind fumbled for some response, the doctor in him effectively silenced. Her look was not judging or disparaging, just gentle. "Maybe it's not a bad idea to take some of your own advice."
"H-how did you…?"
"I'm pretty good at figuring people about. I don't know why. But don't worry. Overall, I'm very impressed. You're a good person. And I think you could probably use a friend more than patient."
Archie clenched his teeth together and swallowed hard. Rose dropped her hand and made her way down the hall.
8
