I do not own Once Upon a Time or the characters from the show.

Thank you Kedi, my Beta-buddy.

Enjoy the chapter.

Jiminy stayed with Clarisse and her small family that evening. They were welcoming and gave him food and a matchbox to sleep in. The cricket would have been perfectly content if it were not for the pull at the back of his mind. It beckoned Jiminy, urging him to find Geppetto. With every moment it grew stronger, robbing him of his sleep and calm. Finally, Jiminy succumbed to the unrelenting pull. Leaving two small clovers on the table in gratitude, he left Clarisse's home.

The north road went deeper into the Enchanted Forest with no other village for miles. While this road was well traveled, it did nothing to halt the moss-covered roots as they reached across the well-trodden path. The further Jiminy flew from the lights of town, the denser and more ominous the towering trees became. Moon and starlight just peaked through the dense canopy; the blue light hardly brightened the way.

Without warning, the remaining light was snuffed out. Jiminy slowed and hovered above the road. An uneasy feeling settled in his gut as the air seemed to grow colder. The cricket tensed as a dark chuckle floated toward him in a breeze.

"Having fun yet, dearie? Green's a good look on you." Came a frighteningly familiar voice from behind Jiminy. The cricket turned, hoping beyond hope that it wasn't –

"My magic wasn't enough for you, eh? Got a taste for it?" Rumpelstiltskin asked with sadistic mirth, leaning leisurely against a tree. "Had to go asking around for more?"

"Absolutely not!" Jiminy denied, nervously flying back away from the Dark One. "It was your magic that killed that boy's parents. I don't want anything more to do with it!"

Rumpelstiltskin disappeared. Jiminy yelped as his wings were suddenly caught from behind and he was twisted to face the monstrous man.

"Oh no, no, no, no. For you see, I only gave you the potion. You were free to do whatever you liked with it." Rumpelstiltskin put a hand to his chest mocking a hurt expression, but his voice snarled ferally, "You could not possibly blame me for your own stupidity." Then with a flick of his wrist, he released Jiminy's wings and watched gleefully as the cricket fell to the ground.

"More importantly!" he continued with a dramatic wag of his finger, "I am not here about the past. I am here because you want something, and I just love to have loyal customers."

"I want nothing from you." Jiminy said firmly but his painfully shuttering wings betrayed his fear. The madman almost danced as he spoke, but it made him appear no friendlier.

"Well, of course, you do, dearie. Everyone does." The Dark One smiled knowingly and tapped a finger to his chin, rolling his eyes to the sky in thought. "You need to find that boy of yours – what was his name again?"

Jiminy glared at Rumpelstiltskin; he knew too well how he worked.

"Ah, but his name doesn't matter," Rumpelstiltskin continued, waving a hand dismissively, "What matters is that no one can understand your annoying little chirps."

Jiminy froze. "Chirps?" he ventured.

"You didn't actually think crickets could speak, did you?" a nasty grin spread across the trickster's face.

"I thought –"

"You thought what?" Rumpelstiltskin skipped forward with an insane giggle, "That the Blue Fairy would grant your wish and you'd go on your merry way? Yes, I know about your run in with her," he growled lightly, his smile becoming more sinister. "Did you think, perhaps, her magic was a charity? No, dearie, good or bad, all magic comes with a price. The price for your new looks was your voice – Funny, that sounds familiar." He put a finger to his cheek in thought, staring at the cricket out of the corner of his eye. "No matter; hasn't happened yet."

Jiminy stood stock-still, antennae hung limply back in disbelief. He'd given up his old life – granted, he wanted to – for this. He promised to devote his life to Geppetto with this. When Clarisse said the villagers did not hear him, he thought… he didn't think he'd lost his ability to speak. How could he begin to find Geppetto if he couldn't say the boy's name? How could he guide the boy as he had promised to do?

Greed filled Rumpelstiltskin's frog-like eyes and a falsely amiable smile spread across his features.

"I could give you your voice back," he offered softly, squatting down in front of the shocked cricket, "You would be able to speak and… I could free you of your debt to the child as a bonus." He added quickly with an innocent smile. "All I ask in return is that you leave the boy to me."

"No!" Jiminy shook himself from his stupor and took to the air. "He has already been through so much." He backed away as the Dark One stood with an unsatisfied frown but he continued, saying, "I intend to help the boy; I swore on my life I would. Magic or no magic, I will find him and I will guide him."

"Very well. Do what you wish." Rumpelstiltskin said with a theatrical shrug. After a dangerous pause, "Just remember," he said, flashing yellowed teeth in a sneer, "I will happily offer my services if you … or the boy… ever have need of them. Whether you want them or not," he finished ominously. With that said, the imp disappeared, leaving the night around Jiminy a little brighter.

Jiminy shuttered and lowered himself to the ground. Putting a shaking hand to his chest, he tried to calm the turmoil within him. Rumpelstiltskin never left someone unharmed if he did not get what he came for. Jiminy knew that well enough from the lore alone. The Dark One would return and the cricket knew that when he did sore wings would be the least of his troubles.

The cricket leaned against a large root as the further gravity of his situation settled in his gut. He could not speak – at least not in the common language. How did he not realize? The Blue Fairy could not have done this without reason.

Good or bad, all magic comes with a price. The fiend's words echoed in his head.

Of course it did. Jiminy shook his head, antennae falling heavily forward. Hadn't he learned that in his initial deal with Rumpelstiltskin? But the Blue Fairy should have been different. Fairy magic was powered not by sacrifice but by their wands and fairy dust. If that were so, why would she take his voice? Perhaps…

Perhaps, he did not deserve to use it.

For all of his life, Jiminy had said to himself and his parents that he was going to change. He always said that he was going to leave behind their dishonest way of life. He never did. He had for his entire life without fail been all talk and no action. Now, he was no talk at all. The only way he could live as a cricket were by his actions.

Maybe - just maybe - that was more than enough.

The night grew a brighter blue and Jiminy looked up. Through the cover of leaves, the North Star twinkled merrily as if in answer to his unspoken revelation.

Some of the weight in the cricket's chest lifted. Yes, he had a difficult road ahead of him, but he had a feeling the Blue Fairy was looking out for him, leading him from afar. She had meant for this to happen, and something told him it was a challenge he needed to face. The star confirmed his suspicions with a happy flickering.

Jiminy shook his head, defeated but amused. She certainly wasn't going to make it easy for him. Straightening his jacket and shaking out the jitters remaining in his wings, he took to the air again. If Geppetto was going north, so would he. It might take time, perhaps a long time, but he would find him.

Pointing himself towards the bright star, Jiminy began his long journey north. And for a wonderful moment, he felt freer than he could have ever imagined.

"Okay, okay," Henry whispered conspiratorially from behind his menu, "Who's Ruby? I'm pretty sure I know who she was. I'll tell you if you get close."

Henry and Dr. Hopper had returned to downtown Storybrooke with twenty-some minutes to spare before Deputy Emma Swan was due to arrive. Henry had smuggled Archie in via hoodie pocket and found a booth in the back of Granny's Diner where the two of them could talk in relative private without risk of the cricket psychiatrist being discovered. At first Henry had simply pointed out a few of the patrons and revealed their fairytale identities - or at least what he thought were their past identities. The explanations quickly escalated into a game of 'guess who.' Archie looked out from his spot behind the napkin dispenser, swallowing the last bit of lettuce Henry had given him from his burger, and watched as Ruby placed a club sandwich in front of a woman Henry had said was the lady who lived in a shoe.

"Hm," the cricket hummed in thought, crossing his arms behind his back to keep his wings from humming along - only moments previously, he and Henry had been surprised to find they could be quite loud, "Wears red, she has a wolf ornament in her car, lives with Granny... Little Red Riding Hood?" He looked around again just as Ruby stooped to pick up a dropped fork. This time Archie's wings did hum and he quickly and respectfully averted his gaze. Not as 'little' as the fairy tales would suggest.

"Yeah! I think that's who she was, too." Henry confirmed with a short laugh as Dr. Hopper patted his wings down again and cleared his throat, "First one you've gotten right so far. But check this out," Henry flipped through the large fairytale book that was laid out on the table to the page introducing Red, "In this book, the wolf is Red Riding Hood. She has to wear the cloak to keep her from changing as a werewolf."

"A what!" Archie jumped out of his hiding place to look down at the book. Henry quickly held the menu in front of the book, hiding the vest-wearing cricket from sight as he walked back and forth across the pages, reading as he went along. "Well, that's … certainly different from the usual story," he finally commented, looking down at an image of a snarling wolf with a red cloak cast across the snow - at least, he hoped that was a cloak.

"No kidding." Henry said with a grin and pulled the menu closer to himself as Archie ducked behind the napkin dispenser again, "Alright, your turn. Pick anyone; I've pretty much figured out who most everyone would be."

Dr. Hopper scanned across the diner, antennae twitching absentmindedly. Henry had already identified the majority of the customers, and Archie felt like the boy needed a friendly challenge. After all, who else could honestly appreciate this game for what it was? Glancing out the front windows, the cricket found that challenge stalking across the street toward Granny's Diner. His antennae fell back as he crouched lower in his hiding place.

"Mr. Gold." He muttered as he wondered briefly if he had paid his office rent already, "Who was Mr. Gold?"

Henry's face fell a bit and he shifted the menu closer to himself. Like everyone in town, Henry was wary of Mr. Gold and rightfully so. Most people owed Mr. Gold in some way or another, and it was never good to be in his debt. He took his business very seriously; even Henry, as young as he was, knew what that meant.

"I'm not really sure," Henry finally admitted, hunching a little to Archie's eye level, "I don't really like thinking about it. Other than the Evil Queen, I wasn't sure if other bad guys came over with the curse. Everyone else seems like they were good guys: dwarves, shoemakers, fairies, princes, and princesses. You know, people like you. But Mr. Gold? I can't really see him as the good guy type. Sometimes I think he might have been a dragon; a powerful, scary creature that hoards gold. It would makes sense seeing how much stuff he has. Or maybe a troll -"

"What's this about trolls?"

Henry shot up, quickly tipping over his menu to shield Dr. Hopper from view, "Mr. Gold! Wh-what are you doing here?" Henry asked, trying and failing not to sound like he had something to hide.

Mr. Gold smiled about as pleasantly as a crocodile, "Oh, just... running a few errands. Collecting what's mine." He pointed to the back of the diner with his cane, "I was just paying Granny a visit when I overheard you reading aloud. Does that book have trolls in it?" Mr. Gold's eyes raked over the exposed pages of the old, leather-bound book as an odd smile pulled at the side of his face.

"Uh, yeah." Henry said, relieved that he did not have to come up with an excuse himself. He pulled the book closer to himself and flipped through the pages at random, "I was just looking for a story with trolls..." He trailed off as Mr. Gold reached over him.

"May I?" At Henry's hesitant nod, he flipped back and forth between a few pages, "Any other good stories in that book of yours?" The loan shark asked, still thumbing through the pages at a leisurely pace.

"Some." Henry stated simply, avoiding Mr. Gold's gaze.

After a pregnant pause, Mr. Gold straightened. "It's a lovely book, skillfully made by hand. You can tell by the binding. It's unfortunate the last few pages are torn out. I have quite the collection of old books in my home, but I have never found the time to go through them. It's good to see such a fine book have a worthy owner, one who will treasure it." When Henry placed his arms protectively around the book, Mr. Gold nodded, "Right, well, I suppose I'll leave you to that then."

Henry and Dr. Hopper hardly moved a muscle until, a few minutes later, the silver door-bells jingled as Mr. Gold limped from the diner. The collective release of tension and sudden pick-up of conversation throughout the eatery showed that they weren't the only ones.

"Rumpelstiltskin." Henry heard Dr. Hopper whisper. The boy turned back to the cricket who had come out from under the menu lean-to.

"What?" Henry looked down at his therapist, not sure if he'd heard him right.

The cricket stood still on the table, small next to the open book. He stared out past the door, a green hand slowly raised to ghost across his tie, and a small tremor ran down his wings.

Henry looked from the door to his shrunken psychiatrist, unnerved by the infinitely distant look in his black eyes, "Archie?" After no response, "... Jiminy?"

Dr. Hopper twitched and shook himself from his stupor, glancing up at Henry's concerned call. "Oh. T-the book," Archie clarified uncertainly, looking down at the open page and tapping the image there. It was the same illuminated page Henry showed him by the clearing, Jiminy's deal with the Dark One. "Rumplestiltskin made gold. He certainly wasn't one of the, uh, good guys either."

Henry nodded grimly, pulling the large book closer to his chest, "If that were the case -"

The jangle of the silver bells announcing Emma's arrival interrupted whatever it was Henry planned to say. The boy relaxed, closed the book, but kept a finger tucked in at the beginning of Jiminy's origin story. Dr. Hopper ducked behind the napkin dispenser again, his previous daze weighing heavily at the back of his mind. Both set aside the supposed identity of Mr. Gold; they had a far more pressing matter to deal with.

As much as Henry wanted to get straight to business, he knew Emma was not ready to see the town's psychiatrist in the state he was in without some explanation - a sentiment shared by the diminutive doctor. What a shock it would be, the man-turned-cricket reasoned, for someone who was obviously still playing along with Henry to make the boy happy. It was decided Henry would explain things slowly and when the time came - and Emma was at least somewhat prepared - Archie would come out of hiding. Where it went from there all depended upon the young deputy's reaction.

Dr. Hopper ran a hand down his front and pulled at the hem of his vest. He was thankful that there was at least one thing about him she could recognize. Stretching out his long legs, Archie risked a peek over the dispenser only to be gently pushed down by a finger.

"Your antennae are showing," Henry whispered, "I'll let you know when you can come out."

Archie nodded and crouched lower, antennae twitching erratically after being touched. The antennae were certainly different from his usual red hair. The cricket was all the more glad his clothes shrunk with him.

"What do you know," Emma said, making a show of looking at the wall clock, "It's been an hour and you're here. Guess I didn't have to worry about you going back to the mine after all." She said humorously as she slid into the booth opposite Henry, eyeing the book on the table. "So, what's this code green thing about?"

Henry glanced toward the napkin dispenser, steeling himself with a sigh. "Okay, just don't freak out. We can't make a scene here. Deal?"

"Okay," Emma said, drawing the word out in confusion with a frown. Crossing her arms and rested them on the table, "Does this have anything to do with Dr. Hopper? He's not really in Boston, right? That would kind of go against your theory that no one can leave Storybrooke."

Henry flinched at the surprised chirp the came from the end of the table. "I'm getting to that. But first you have to know a few things." The boy opened the book, flattening the pages with the palms of his hands. "I told you when you first came here who Dr. Hopper really was. Remember?"

"Yeah. You said he was Jiminy Cricket." Emma shrugged, thinking back to the first time she'd met the soft spoken man. He was one of the few she had taken a liking to early on, despite his weakness against the mayor. In the newly sworn deputy's opinion, he had redeemed himself in full when he had finally stood up to Regina. Emma may not have had any experience with parents, at least none worth a damn, but she could spot a father figure when she saw one. To Henry, his psychiatrist was as close to a father as he could get in this strange town. That only added to her high opinion of the kind man. To her, it made sense in a way that Henry had dubbed him as 'Jiminy Cricket.'

"And that he became Dr. Hopper because of the curse," Henry added, "And the curse keeps everyone here from remembering who and what they were in the Enchanted Forest."

Emma nodded, listening with an eyebrow raised in question, "What does this have to do with where Archie is now?"

"I'm getting there," Henry insisted, "See here?" He turned the book and pointed to a section of the page with a small thump of his finger, "Jiminy made a wish to become a cricket to help Gepetto. The Blue Fairy granted his wish. And, while I don't completely know how it happened here without magic, Archie made a wish last night," Henry sighed nervously, "and it came true."

Biting his lip, Henry looked over to where Dr. Hopper was hidden, "He told me he wished he could see himself as I see him. I know that he's Jiminy Cricket... And now he does too."

Emma frowned, "What do you mean 'he knows?' Quit beating around the bush, kid. You're starting to make me nervous." She followed Henry's gaze to the napkin dispenser and reached out to lift it.

"No!" Henry whispered harshly, hands holding the box down, "Look. I know it's going to sound totally crazy, but you have to believe me. Archie wished upon a star and he," Henry looked around the diner and lowered his voice further, "he became a cricket again."

Emma froze for a moment, then leaned back in her seat. "Dr. Hopper turned into a cricket?" she repeated slowly. Pressing her lips in a thin line, the deputy watched the boy's face as he nodded. There was nothing hidden there. "You," she struggled for the right phrase, "you really mean that."

"Yes," the boy said with conviction. After Emma stayed silent, Henry cautioned, "You're … taking it better than I thought you would so far."

"So far?" Emma grimaced. How in the world was she supposed to deal with this?

"About that," Henry smiled tensely, "Archie's been here the whole time. We just thought we should warn you before we showed you. We didn't want you to freak out." Henry set up the menu on the edge of the table, shielding the tabletop from the rest of the diner.

Emma pushed back against the booth, watching apprehensively as Henry reached around the napkin dispenser.

"Okay, Archie. She's been briefed," the boy said softly, "You ready?" After a pause, Henry finally lifted his hand and let the cricket step down onto the book. Dr. Hopper looked up at Emma who seemed to be struggling to keep her poker face intact.

"I know," Archie tapped the side of his head with a finger, saying the first thing that came to mind, "I, um, I was right to worry about that thinning spot. See? I've lost my hair."

Emma looked from the cricket on the book to Henry and back, saying nothing.

After a moment, Archie chuckled nervously, "Oh dear. Maybe a joke wasn't the, uh, right way to start out. Listen, I - I know this may seem impossible but -"

"Henry," Emma said with some hesitation, clasping her hands together and closed her eyes, "was Dr. Hopper in his office this morning?"

Henry looked up at his birth mother, sharing a glance with Archie before saying, "Yeah. That's where I found him like this. Tell her, Archie."

"It's true." Dr. Hopper confirmed, watching the deputy for her reaction. She was … scared, uneasy - that much wasn't difficult to see - but more so for Henry. Oh…

Henry nodded, not noticing Archie's scrutinizing gaze, "Like he said."

"Henry," Emma put her head in her hands, leaning into the table; her blond curls falling to obscure her face. She looked helpless; forced to decide between going along with his fairytale beliefs or trying to find him help. Archie knew that look. It was one he often had to hide when one of his patients took a turn for the worst, when he could only sit and watch as they spiraled downward. It was clear Emma was nearing her limit. "It's just a cricket. It didn't say anything."

"What? You mean you can't hear him?" Henry frantically looked from Archie to Emma, "I don't understand."

Emma's hair parted as she brushed it back with a shaky sigh, "You really think this cricket is Dr. Hopper?"

"I know he is!" Henry nearly shouted. After a glance around the diner, he lowered his voice again, "Can't you tell?"

"I'm sorry, Henry. It just looks like a big bug," Emma rubbed her forehead with a hand. She looked down at the cricket who, to her, seemed only a little different from the average cricket despite its unusual size. The cricket stared up at her and a feeling of anxiety settled in her gut. It suddenly hopped onto Henry's hand, chirping all the while.

"That's right," Henry muttered to the cricket on his palm, "Maybe that's why she can't see you for what you are. She doesn't believe yet. What is something you said to only her? Something I wouldn't know."

Emma put her hands on the book, looking down at the illustrated cricket standing there in a jacket and top hat, "Henry -"

"You called him Doc!" Henry exclaimed, eyes wide in desperation. "Last night, you called him Doc and… and he said he wasn't Doc. He said he was Jiminy Cricket."

Hands froze on the pages, Emma gawked at the boy in front of her. He was tense, everything about him begging her to believe. The cricket cupped in his hands fluttered down to the book, resting a small green appendage on her hand and looking up at her. An odd familiarity flickered to life in the back of Emma's mind.

"It's true, isn't it?" Henry asked, tearing her attention from the cricket, "That's what he said."

The deputy met the boy's eyes, slack-jawed in her attempt to respond. There was no way Henry could know that, but... "How -"

A bit of maroon shifted in the corner of her eye, pulling Emma's gaze to itself. There on the book, standing next to a near identical illustration, an upright cricket in a button-up and sweater vest watched her, his hand still resting on hers. At her prolonged stare, he stiffened, lifting his hand and waving shyly.

"I gotta go," Emma wheezed, stumbling out of the booth.

"Emma!" Henry bolted up with a yelp, "Where are you going?"

The deputy did not answer the worried calls of either the boy or Ruby, whom she had nearly bowled over. The bells clanged loudly against the door as it slammed behind her.

"Henry! Henry!" Dr. Hopper waved in vain to get the boy's attention, but Henry was running and out the door, leaving his backpack, book, and therapist behind. "Oh dear…"

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Your input is greatly appreciated. R&R please.