Summary: It was strange, how memory could sneak up on you. This is the fallout in Storybrooke just after the events of S2 Ep 5 "The Doctor," from Jefferson's point of view.
Notes: Based on episodes up through S2 Ep5. Takes place during the beginning of Season 2 and immediately following "The Doctor." Part three of my series "Some Kind of Madness." Jefferson/Grace's Mother, Jefferson/Regina, Daniel/Regina. Originally posted on 11/14/12 on Archive of Our Own.
Fifty Years Late
With the Dark Curse broken, the memories of those in Storybrooke began to coalesce back into full histories - pages of experience - that no longer seemed like half-forgotten dreams.
With a supernatural gust of wind emanating out from the True Love's Kiss between Emma Swan and her son, life in the Enchanted Forest felt once again like yesterday. As though Charming had been dying in Snow's arms mere moments before David and Mary Margaret ran to embrace each other on Main Street. Ordinary days that had been suddenly overcast by the Evil Queen's black clouded magic. Emma's kiss had awakened every Storybrooke resident as though they had only just blinked back home.
Then the confusion came.
Which was why the townspeople congregated at the bulletin boards. Families had been ripped apart by the Curse, either by death or merely a new identity down the street.
Could one be from Portland as well as Snow White's kingdom?
But now these lives on Earth began to fade like dreams. Could one bear the conflicting identities, as Jefferson had? Or choose to leave Storybrooke behind for the life they thought they'd always known? Cross the border and leave evil queens, vengeful kings and imp-like sorcerers behind? Go back to Portland?
David meant well. He really did. But could he understand?
Most of the prince's speech rang true. Earth or the Enchanted Forest? FairyTale Land, surely, was home and always had been.
His life in New York City stopped tugging at Jefferson's psyche and competing for space in his head. David pulled him from the wreckage of his car and there could no longer be any doubt who they were or had been. The prince sat him down with the destroyed magic hat and Jefferson - so jaded by his long, shitty life - was matter-of-fact.
"I'm a portal jumper, and you destroyed my portal."
It rolled so easily off the tongue, now, thirty years later. It was who he was and who he had always been, ever since he was a teenager.
Could he get David through? Of course not.
Could he get Emma and Mary Margaret back? Gods, no.
Could he get it to work?
Get it to work.
At this point, after so many, many repetitions - under his breath, spoken aloud, to Emma or to himself - that particular phrase could only make him laugh.
"If you only knew."
But David meant business, and manhandled Jefferson as though he were Regina and merely being obstinate. No point trying to explain as he had, for decades, that without more magic than Regina's heirlooms the scraps of cloth were useless.
New York faded even more quickly over the next few days, replaced with total certainty that Paige was Grace, along with long-forgotten memories of her mother's smiling face. Or their wedding day...the white, silk dress he'd bought for her and she accepted with excited kisses, before, in their marital bed, finally confessing she didn't need jewels or fine clothes. She only wanted him. He could give it all up for her, couldn't he?
It was strange, how memory could sneak up on you.
All he wanted was to be with Grace again. And although Henry didn't know him personally, the boy was a good judge of character (unlike his mother) and had a good point. Jefferson and his daughter had waited so long to reunite. Why make her wait any longer?
Jefferson and Paige's family prioritized Grace's well-being over the next few days. Planned as normal a childhood as possible for the following weeks, months or years, however long it took for David to solve the mysteries of Regina and Rumpelstiltskin's vile curse. He had plenty to do inside his head and inside his family without being drawn back into any of Rumpel or Regina's bullshit.
One of these early days, Jefferson was sorting through his bedroom's dresser drawers when he discovered a little orange bottle. Its childproof lid read "Dark Star Pharmacy" in blue ink. ("Push down and turn.")
He rattled it.
Jefferson held it up to the light and looked inside. Three left. He couldn't remember the last time he'd even had his prescription refilled. Sometime before Emma Swan arrived. He could remember swallowing two pills every day for 28 years, but could no longer recall when he'd been diagnosed, or why he'd "moved" to Storybrooke, or when he'd even had his "breakdown."
He still had nightmares of his breakdown in Wonderland, but Manhattan no longer factored into any of it. That was a good sign, wasn't it? He and his daughter were only trapped in a foreign land, not trapped in their own minds.
Jefferson slipped the bottle into his coat pocket and walked to Grace's house on Drury Lane. His fingers played with it nervously. They drank some tea together - Grace was old enough to have real, hot tea, now - and he couldn't fathom needing it, but he kept it in his pocket anyway.
He considered it best to keep the girl enrolled in school. All the children enrolled in school. It gave the adults of Storybrooke time to do the worrying for them.
(The instructors had no idea which history to teach - Earth's or FairyTale Land's - so most of their time was spent covering any and everything else.)
Jefferson's feet carried him to Archie's office over the same familiar route he'd always taken.
The cricket Jiminy was, technically, no longer a psychologist, but had always been the voice of reason. As an insect or a man, he could listen and advise better than anyone else in Storybrooke.
So Jefferson should have expected a tearful Regina to pass him in the hallway.
The Queen averted her eyes and brushed past him. If he'd had any sense at all he would have casually, considerately, let her go in silence and enter the cricket's office as though they hadn't even seen each other.
But even with all his animosity for her, curiosity nagged at him.
"Regina."
She froze. Turned around. Her eyes still rimmed red, she shot him a look made up of equal parts loathing and sorrow.
"What happened?"
Regina licked her lips and swallowed.
"Dr. Whale, he..."
Jefferson let out a sigh of relief.
"Henry's okay?"
She nodded.
Who was Dr. Whale, again? Oh. Right.
"What did...?"
"Victor," she whispered hoarsely. "He did it."
Jefferson held his breath. Oh, no...
"Did what?"
Regina looked like she could burst into tears again. Jefferson only felt a tiny shred of guilt. Surely Regina deserved her heartache?
"It."
She said it in such a way that it couldn't possibly mean anything else. There was only one thing Jefferson had ever known Victor capable of doing for Regina. And clearly it hadn't turned out well.
Jefferson dug down deep into his memory to 45 years earlier and could still see the hopeful, teenage Regina gazing up at him in wonder and...Oh gods.
He felt sick.
He covered his mouth, bit down on his hand and couldn't tear his eyes from Regina's face, expecting her to break away first and storm out of the building.
She'd often reminded him, over the years, of what he had done to her, but he never could remember that fateful moment until right now.
"You knew it was possible?" she said, her voice laced with venom. "To bring him back so easily?"
"Regina..."
She shoved him, shouting, "You knew it was possible! You played me that night!"
"No, I didn't. I swear."
"Stop lying to me!"
No apology ready on his lips, Jefferson coldly replied, "You should have stopped lying to me, Regina. So this?" He gestured between the two of them. "Ends now. You were done with me, remember?"
"You have your daughter back, Jefferson. What more did you want?"
"Thirty years later!"
Archie emerged from his office.
"Jefferson, Regina. Stop!"
"Victor knew he could do it all along. You and Victor..."
Regina clenched her fists. They began to glow purple.
Archie took her hand and said, "Regina, no."
Jefferson ran his fingers through his hair, agitated and tense.
"What do you want me to say, Regina?" he spat. "That I'm sorry that I lied to you fifty years ago?"
"Calm down, both of you!"
But Jefferson's rage bubbled over, finally.
"You took my daughter from me. My life from me. My sanity from me."
Regina tried to break away from Archie's grip. He restrained her other hand.
"We're even, Regina. You've said it yourself, before."
"Go, Jefferson," Archie said. "Go now!"
He left. The glow in her hands faded and Regina collapsed into Archie's arms.
Jefferson entered Granny's Diner for the first time in three decades and ordered tea and cake.
"Can I get some milk with that?"
"Sure thing," Ruby replied.
He stared vacantly out the window. The girl started to walk away but he added, "And a glass of water, please?"
She returned with the glass, then left to get his order. Jefferson took the orange bottle out of his pocket and turned it over and over in his hands. He'd often imagined it saying "Eat Me" on the label rather than "Chlorpromazine."
Ruby returned with the tea and a simple slice of yellow cake with vanilla frosting.
"Who...?"
Jefferson looked up.
"Who were you? Before. Back home. Charming says that was your hat and you're a 'portal jumper.'"
His blank expression didn't change, so Ruby's face fell and she backed off.
"I'm sorry, I just thought..."
"I already told him I can't help you."
She nodded and gave him a sad/hopeful smile.
"What's that?" she asked, knowing someone who needed to talk when she saw one.
"An anti-psychotic," he replied. "I used to think I needed it."
"And now?"
He spun the bottle on its side. It wobbled on its child-proof lid. Not that he'd ever needed a lid like that before the curse broke.
Ruby sat down across from him.
"I probably still do."
The waitress shook her head.
"Our old lives were real. We know that now. You're not sick."
She reached to touch his hand but he jerked away.
"It takes the edge off," he said, snapping open the lid and removing one pill. He took it, washing it down with water. Ruby gave him a sympathetic smile.
"Whatever works. Have you tried talking to Archie?"
Jefferson laughed, much like he had at David's interrogation days earlier.
"He's busy helping the Queen."
Ruby rolled her eyes.
"Well, I suppose someone's got to do it. For Henry's sake."
Jefferson ripped open some sugar packets and poured them into his tea. He stirred it and added milk. Concerned for the medicated man in front of her, Ruby got up to serve other customers but returned later to sit back down with the morose portal jumper.
"You haven't touched your cake," she said.
"Why are you being nice to me?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
He looked up to meet her friendly gaze.
"I remember you," he said, squinting. Memories resurfacing.
"Of course. I mean, we're kind of the town hangout."
"From 28 years ago," he said.
Ruby, herself only 25, furrowed her brow.
"What are you talking about? Do I know you from the Enchanted Forest?"
Jefferson shook his head.
"I came in here confused, scared and desperate for a decent cup of tea. The other customers wouldn't even look at me. They were cold. Fearful. But you? You smiled the whole time. I forgot to tip you, before I left."
He reached into his pocket for some cash.
"That's okay. I can smell when someone needs help. Tell," she corrected herself, grinning slightly.
"It was so long ago."
Ruby tilted her head, uncomprehending.
"How old do you think I am?" Jefferson asked.
Ruby did a quick appraisal.
"Thirty."
He shook his head slightly.
"Thirty-five?"
"And can you guess how long I've been thirty-five?"
"Twenty-eight years."
He nodded.
"But I've been this young for that long, too," she said. "We've all been frozen."
Jefferson forked a piece of cake and brought it to his lips, finally.
"Yes, but you didn't live every day of it."
The girl's eyes widened slightly in horror.
Other customers beckoned her, but once again, she was drawn back to the dour portal jumper. He had finished his cake.
"That was very good..."
"Ruby."
"Ruby. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"How much do I owe you?"
"Oh," Ruby said. "It's on the house."
Jefferson stood up, idly playing with the pill bottle in his left hand. He took out a $5 bill and handed it to her.
"For last time."
She took it and watched him leave. He dropped the bottle in a trash barrel on his way out.
The following day, Jefferson leisurely walked his daughter to the school.
"Have a good day, my dear Grace."
"You too, Papa," she replied, and entered the building.
He noticed Henry wasn't far behind, and gave him a little wave, but the frowning boy didn't see him. Jefferson turned around to see Regina standing by the curb looking thoughtful. Looking at him.
He approached her and said, "How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"
"I killed him, Jefferson."
His old lover's face was a mask of profound guilt. He felt genuine sadness wash over him.
They stood about a foot apart, now. His body had always been drawn to hers, and hers to his, despite the presence of ghosts their heavy hearts had always loved so much more.
"Whatever Victor did, it didn't work. The same thing happened to his brother. But I longed so badly to be with Daniel again. And in his final moments..."
She choked up, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes. Jefferson didn't reach out to touch her, just stood close by - a solid anchor for her sorrow and target for her hate.
"Daniel knew me. As if he had just woken from the horrible night he'd died and no time had passed at all." With a shaky breath, she continued, "He begged me, Jefferson. To kill him. What else could I do but end his misery?"
"Oh, Regina..."
"It was Rumpelstiltskin's idea, wasn't it?" she asked, more like a statement, in a suddenly - distinctly - different tone.
Jefferson looked away - at the school, at his daughter's classroom.
"I thought so," she said.
Regina walked away, heading for her car. Jefferson grabbed her left hand. It felt like it had been dipped in ice.
He pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her tightly. She didn't resist and melted into his embrace, like their first, second, third times. Back when he was a liar and a thief and she trusted him because that's what allies did.
It was strange, how memory could sneak up on you.
He kissed her forehead and she pushed him away, her right hand on his heart. He covered it with his own hand. Took her left and pressed it to his breast, as well.
"I don't forgive you," she murmured.
"That's okay," he said. "I don't forgive you either."
Regina stepped away and turned, brushing her hair back behind her ear. Looked at the school and stuck her hands in her coat pockets. Jefferson did the same.
Finally, he turned to walk home. Regina went back to her car. She drove past him and gave him one last look before disappearing down the road.
Jefferson found himself back at the diner, drawn to the ordinariness of it. Ruby wordlessly brought him a cup of tea.
Dr. Whale entered and caught Jefferson's eye. He hurried out.
"Victor," Jefferson called.
The doctor turned.
"I see you've made a swift recovery."
The portal jumper gestured to the seat across from him. Warily, the doctor sat down. Ruby offered Dr. Whale coffee, then noticed the electric tension between the two men and scurried into the kitchen.
Jefferson grabbed Whale's left hand and roughly pulled it towards him, spilling some tea from its cup.
"Such an expert reattachment. I wonder who could have done it, considering you're Storybrooke's chief surgeon."
"You're hurting my hand, Jefferson."
"Why did you do it, Victor? Tell me that, now, before I start ruining Rumpel's patch job."
He unrolled his silverware from its napkin and picked up the knife.
"I thought Regina would help me. Us."
Jefferson squeezed Whale's forearm, hard.
"What happened to your brother?"
Wincing, Whale managed to pull his hand away and flexed his fingers. Ruby watched cautiously from behind the counter.
"He didn't survive the procedure."
"Bullshit. I'm fucking done lying. I've lied for fifty years about that night and paid for it so much more dearly than you ever have. He came back wrong, didn't he? A monster."
"He wasn't a monster."
"But Daniel was. He tore off your arm, Victor! Regina had to put him down. What the fuck did you think would happen?"
"Daniel was frozen in stasis. It wasn't the same."
"Same hearts. Same magic. Dead is dead. Always was. I fucking hate you, did you know that? I hate that I ever met you. That I ever laid eyes on you."
Whale leaned over the table, and snarled, "Then why did you do it?"
Jefferson shrugged.
"For money. For Rumpelstiltskin. For some bullshit fantasy that a queen with a complex wouldn't banish us all to fucking Maine."
"It was years ago, Jefferson. What's done is done. Why do you care so much that Daniel's gone now?"
Jefferson's eyes narrowed and he fixed an ugly glare on his old friend.
"Because she's hurting."
The silence stretched on, then realization dawned on Dr. Whale's face.
"You care about her. Regina."
"It's a lot more complicated than that."
"What did we prescribe for you, again? Thorazine? You kept saying it had been ten years, fifteen, twenty, when it had only been weeks, to us? She did that to you."
"Do you remember that night, Victor?"
Dr. Whale rolled his eyes. Shook his head.
"We were such good actors, back then. We always were. We masterfully broke that girl's heart. And we created a monster."
"What does it matter now? How in the world could you ever feel sorry for the Queen after what she did to us? To you?"
Ruby chose this moment to place Dr. Whale's coffee on the table. He looked up at her - anywhere to avoid Jefferson's cold stare.
"It's strange," Ruby said, giving Dr. Whale a sheepish smile. "Memory."
Jefferson looked at her and his expression softened.
"Maybe he just remembers the Queen when she wasn't so hateful."
"Jefferson. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The young portal jumper - now with shaggier hair, less jewelry and silk, but still clad in fine leather - cautiously approached the Queen where she was tending to her apple tree.
"I'm getting married."
He blurted it, unsure how else he could possibly break the news to his fearsome lover, who grew to be feared more and more with every passing day.
Regina froze, her back to him.
"Congratulations," she said.
She turned and smiled at him. One of her transparently fake ones.
"I know you don't really mind, Regina," he said, walking up to her, leaning close, like he always did. Like he always would, probably. Like a magnet. "Our arrangement has always been a tad dysfunctional."
Regina smirked. "My dear Jefferson, what will I do without our little game?"
"What game is that? 'See who comes first?'"
"Who is she?"
A flicker of jealousy. That could be dangerous.
"Just someone very dear to me. I'm sure you'd like her. She loves to portal jump."
"You never took me," Regina said, turning to resume pruning her tree.
"You never asked."
The Queen shrugged.
"I hope you don't expect me to provide some royal handout for your wedding."
"Not at all. It's just..."
"What?"
"I just thought I should let you know."
Regina gave him a curt nod of thanks.
"Anything else?"
Jefferson hesitated before shaking his head. He turned to go.
"Jefferson," she called.
"Yes, your Majesty?"
He had changed so very much, she thought, in only a few years. Tempered. Mature. It was either an act, or his fierce nighttime passion was.
She didn't realize he could be faking both.
"I wish you and your fiancée all the best."
"Thank you, your Majesty."
Regina watched Jefferson disappear, leaving her alone once again.