Rumpel sat in Dr. Hopper's waiting room, leafing through some tripe of a magazine. He had started by picking out a travel magazine, but the knowledge that he could not leave Storybrook (at least not for any practical space of time) had only made the magazine depressing to read. His options for reading material were slim, and he started to regret not taking a book out of the library while they were there.
That was why he was sitting on an uncomfortable chair reading a teen magazine, featuring the latest TV hunk on the cover. The fashion pages where at least interesting for a few seconds, but it was the article on 'How to keep your man' that really caught his attention.
As he read the article he could not help but wonder if the vapidness of today's youth was, perhaps, not their fault, but the fault of the bad advice they were being given by magazine such as this. Sure Belle cooked for him, and dressed in cute clothing; but he cooked for her too, and he always felt that her clothing choices were a reflection of her own personality, and not worn to please him.
Though, in truth, they do. He admitted to himself.
"Sarah, why don't you go read your new books while I have a word with Mr. Gold?" Dr. Hopper smiled at the young girl as he held opened the door for her, and Rumpel quickly hid the magazine among the others on the side table.
She gave Rumpel a small smile as she sat in the chair next to him. Making sure the magazine was well hidden among its peers; he stood, and followed the doctor into the office.
"I…" the doctor started, "…um… have the report you asked for." He stumbled over his words, and oddly did not attempt to hand the manila envelope to Rumpel. "But… I… ah… first wanted to talk to you about Sarah and the… um… the abuse she has suffered."
The doctor looked worries, and this in turn worried Rumpel. He could feel his stomach tighten like a giant hand had a grip on it (actually exactly like a giant hand had a grip on it, but that was not a memory to ponder upon at his time).
"How bad was it?" He asked, fearful of the answer. "Was she…? Did he…?" He couldn't say it. The idea was too horrid, even for him.
At first Hopper looked at him in confusion, until it dawn on him what Mr. Gold was asking.
"NO! Oh god no. At least she does not show any of the warning signs for… that." Even he could not say it. "But she has been hurt, and I believe it is going to take a lot of time for her to begin to trust enough to start healing."
Rumpel was relieved, but he was also sure the doctor was trying to tell him something, and for the life of him he could not figure out what that was.
"What I am trying to get at Mr. Gold." He finally stated after the other man just continued to look at him quietly. "Is that her insurance will only cover so many sessions, and it may take more than that to even begin to help her. If I was to make the recommendation for more hours, it may be denied due to a conflict of interest."
Finally realizing where the doctor was going, Rumpel was confused about why he was being consulted about this problem.
Dr. Hopper was always beyond reproach in his dealing with his patients; everyone who knew him, knew that. He was Jiminy Cricket after all; the conscience of Snow White's court. The insurance companies, however, did not know him. They were in this world, and they had to work within this world's rules.
"I know you left the town once before; could you do it again? With her? I have the name of some doctors in Boston…" The doctor still seemed nervous.
More work to do.
"Thank you." Rumpel interrupted him. "If you could give me those names, I will think on a solution."
The names were quickly jotted down, and with a farewell handshake the two parted.
Why can no one in this town find solutions to their own problems? Rumpel wondered, irritably.
He knew it was uncharitable to be irritated at the cricket. The man was only trying to help; but now he had one more thing added to the list (more like lists) of things he had to work on. Everyone hated magic and hated him, yet it was always him they called upon to help them when the going got tough.
Hypocritical, lazy, idiots. It's not like I don't have my own… issues… to deal with.
Issues? Yes that was the right word; he had 'issues' with his son to resolve, 'issues' with Belle that needed to be dealt with to move their relationship forward, he most definitely had 'issues' with his own emotions, and 'issues' with his temper.
He tried to school his face into a smile as he approached Sarah, but the minute she looked up from her book he knew that he had failed. She picked up on his irritation right away, and as her eyes got wider, her body seemed to shrink a little into the chair.
Closing his eyes, he gave up all pretense at good humour, and spoke to her quietly.
"Time for lunch."
Without another word, the two walked across the street to the diner.