It would be easier if he could just be Jefferson, or even just the Mad Hatter. It would be easier if he could just let himself be trapped inside the mansion that Regina had built for him. It would be easier if he could just be completely displaced and mad and live without reason.
But he can't do that.
Because he remembers.
He knows exactly who he's supposed to be in Storybrooke, and it's not Jefferson at all, and it's hurting him to wake up every morning and not know who he is. Not know who he's looking for, because Jefferson isn't supposed to just be Jefferson he's supposed to be Jeffrey Lewis Maddon.
Jeffrey Lewis Maddon isn't Jefferson at all. He lives off of his parent's fortune in their old family house at the edge of Storybrooke, and relishes the wealth and opulence that fills his home He's never had to relay on picking mushrooms or chopping firewood.
He went to college for a long time, and could be a lawyer if he needed the money. He didn't.
Mr. Maddon never shows up drunk at the mayor's house and has screaming fights with her until the sun starts to rise. He definitely doesn't wake up in her arms hours later smelling like sex and wine. That's all Jefferson.
That's one of the worst things about the life that Regina has cursed him to remember—the life that didn't even exist.
Jeffrey Maddon doesn't want to wake up in Regina's arms. Or Ruby's. Or Mary Margaret's.
He doesn't want to wake up with any of those women, because he's married.
He's married to a man.
There are pictures all throughout the house of Jeffrey Lewis Maddon and Lt. J. Rogers. Vacation photos on the mantle. A wedding portrait in the bedroom.
Jefferson, formally known as the Mad Hatter, took them down on his first day in Storybrooke.
But when Jeffrey Lewis Maddon wakes up before Jefferson, he doesn't know where the pictures have gone. Or his husband.
A frantic search ensues. He always finds the pictures, but never Rogers.
At least Mr. Maddon has a deal with Dr. Whale going to feed his addiction to prescription drugs. That takes up a lot of time that he could have spent wondering where his husband was. Why he'd left him. Was it because of the pills?
He had to have left, right? That was the only reason for the empty house.
Bravo, Regina. Bravo.
His sexualities, his identities, his memories, his addictions—none of it makes any sense, and so he spends most his time high in his mansion. Sometimes, when he's sober and in control, he watches Grace.
Other times, he drives to Regina's in a rage and they'd fuck each other senseless. If nothing else, the Evil Queen seems to enjoy the company of someone other than her huntsman.
When he can't quite remember who Jefferson is, he lays on the couch in a black trench coat that didn't belong to him and wonders why his husband has never come back from wherever it was he's gone.
Then, he remembers who he is, and wonders who it is in the photographs. It has to be someone. Is it a person Regina failed to bring to Storybrooke? That was impossible. It probably meant that Lieutenant Rogers, whoever he was, had probably died before the curse had taken place.
He wasn't really keen on married life with another man, but maybe if Rogers, whoever the hell he may be, was there, he could forget Jefferson and the Mad Hatter entirely, and fallen into the peaceful oblivion that the rest of the town was able to enjoy.
Then Emma Swan comes to town.
The curse breaks.
Jeffrey Lewis Maddon falls by the wayside.
Jefferson needs to get Grace back.
It doesn't really work out at first.
Emma and Snow White vanish, and his hat suffers for it.
He finds Grace again.
Things are okay.
The Queen of Hearts comes to Storybrooke. Jefferson has to go to the hospital because the Mad Hatter is more than he can take, and Wonderland is sitting heavily in the back of his mind.
Two pills twice a day and Dr. Frankenstein says that he'll be ok, as long as he doesn't let Mr. Maddon's addictions get in the way.
He stays in the hospital for a day or two, just to make sure that he can go back to Grace and take care of her.
While that's happening, a car hits someone. Killian? A pirate? Something like that. Jefferson doesn't really care, until Whale comes in apologizing and saying that it's just for an hour or two while they prepare another room.
That's fine.
Once they're alone, he puts down his book and curiously looks over at the cot next to him where his new roommate is sleeping peacefully.
"Rogers?" He breathes out, his heart starting to race. Just when he'd thought that Maddon's memories were gone for good, here they are again.
They met at a laundry mat. Jeffrey's washing machine was broken. Rogers helped him count out the change.
Their first kiss. A little drunk in Jefferson's car.
Their wedding day. Private. A small ceremony.
The other man's eyes open slowly, and Jefferson's stomach starts to twist even though he doesn't want it to. Clearly somewhat sedated, the other man raises an eyebrow in question.
"Rogers? Lieutenant Rogers?" Jefferson asks slowly, trying as hard as he could to stay in control.
"Captain Hook." The man on the cot corrects him. "A pleasure. And yourself?"
"Jefferson. Don't worry. You'll be moved to somewhere more comfortable, soon."
Killian Jones grunts to show that he's heard, closes his eyes, and goes back to sleep.
Jefferson takes a deep breath, picks up his book, and wills Jeffrey Lewis Maddon away.