Dreams of Stars (A Once Upon a Time/Jiminy Cricket fanfic)

Dreams of Stars Part 5

"Oh, this one isn't very important," she mumbled, turning the page hurriedly. She didn't know how she could bring herself to talk about it. Then she saw what the other one was. She had been beating herself up over this one all week. She should have known what to do, but she didn't, and she ended up doing nothing but standing there in paralyzing nervousness. She had caused a lot of trouble for everyone. "Th-this one doesn't really matter either," she stammered, "Maybe next week—"

"It seems to matter to you, so I would say it is important," Dr. Hopper said, "Bridget, do you remember what I told you? You don't have to be afraid to tell me anything."

"I...it's really awful, though," Bridget said, feeling more like she was here to confess than to get help.

"I'm not here to judge you."

Taking a deep breath, Bridget turned back to the first page and read both stories to him. It was easier to read them aloud because she could almost pretend she was reading someone else's story instead of something she had done. Dr. Hopper listened in silence the whole time, and when she was done, she braced herself and looked up at him.

"Those things really bother you, then," he observed.

Bridget nodded.

"Now, I don't mean to lessen the importance of them by saying this, but it doesn't seem to me that—that they caused any great harm."

"But others had to do more work because of me. They were annoyed."

"Did that really hurt them so much? Bridget, I'd like you to consider the possibility that some of your fears may come from how you think other people see you. Do you believe anyone is still bothered by having had to do a little extra work?"

"No, but...I should have been able to do it. It was what I was supposed to do."

Dr. Hopper nodded. "You have a strong sense of duty."

"What a nice way to put it," Bridget remarked with a sarcastic half-smile.

"It's very normal for people to have to make up for others' mistakes—that's just a fact of life," Dr. Hopper assured her, "Can you think of a time when you had to do extra work because someone else forgot to do something or couldn't do it?"

Bridget thought for a moment, then nodded, finding it surprisingly easy to recall a few examples.

"Were you very bothered by it?"

"No, not at all."

"Then there's no reason for you to assume that other people consider it a terrible burden to have to smooth over your mistakes," Dr. Hopper pointed out, "And even if they do get easily annoyed about that sort of thing, that's for them to deal with; it's not your fault."

Bridget nodded, thinking he made a good point, but it didn't quite cut it. She wanted to change the subject. "Can I tell you about my dreams now?" she asked, brightening up a little. Over the week, she had discovered that she was actually quite eager to tell him about her dreams. She hadn't ever really talked with anyone about them.

"Of course," Dr. Hopper said.

"Well, last night, I dreamed I was riding a beautiful horse," Bridget began eagerly, "The horse seemed really big, but I think I might have been small in the dream because everything else seemed a bit big too. The horse's fur was pure white, and its mane was orange, and we were galloping across a moorland or something at night. I remember it was night because I was noticing how beautiful the stars were. There's not much else I remember about it now, though."

"It sounds beautiful," Dr. Hopper said, smiling warmly.

"I have this recurring dream too," Bridget said, "In which I'm trying to climb a rainbow, but for every step I take, I seem to slide two steps backward."

"That must be frustrating," Dr. Hopper remarked, "It could be your subconscious mind processing how you feel about your mistakes."

"Well, that's what's strange about it," Bridget replied, "Because I don't feel frustrated when I'm climbing the rainbow. I feel hopeful and determined, and I'm eager to reach what's at the top. I love that dream because it's so different from how I usually feel. And the stars seem so close in that one."

"In that case, I believe it's good that you keep thinking about it. Let it encourage you."

"Do you remember the talking cricket I told you about last week?" Bridget asked, a little shyly.

"How could I forget about him?" Dr. Hopper chuckled.

"Well, he's in a lot of my dreams. In my dream about the rainbow, he's usually riding on my shoulder. He has a little, black coat and a little umbrella, and he's very nice. I like him a lot. And, he even has a name, too."

"What's his name?"

"Archie."

Dr. Hopper frowned suddenly, then twitched his head slightly with a scoff of bemusement. "Archie?"

"Sorry if you don't like it," Bridget returned defensively.

"No, it's...not that. It's just that...that's my name." Dr. Hopper said with a bewildered smile.

"You mean your first name is Archie?"

"Yes—you didn't know that?"

"Not at all."

"Well, then, maybe you saw my nametag on the desk, but didn't consciously notice it. My name could have subconsciously entered your dreams, and—"

"No, the cricket has always been named Archie," Bridget interrupted him, "Long before I ever met you."

"Well, then, it's just an interesting coincidence," Archie laughed.