"Grace?"
His voice floated out from him, as if the words came from someone else's lips. Why had he come here? There was no way she would want to see him again, not after he'd broken his promise and left her. She'd had a new life, new parents, for twenty-eight years. Surely she wouldn't choose him over them.
At the sound of his voice, Grace turned her head almost automatically, recognition in her eyes, and Jefferson's breath caught in his throat. An enormous grin split across his daughter's face, and he couldn't help but mirror the expression. She was so beautiful.
"Papa!" Grace ran toward him and threw her small arms around his neck. Jefferson's heart swelled at the obvious glee in her high voice. He buried his face in her honey-colored curls and tried not to cry. "You found me, Papa. I knew you would."
"Of course I did, baby, I always will." He stood up, keeping an iron hold around her waist, giving up on stemming the flow of tears from his eyes. He pulled back far enough to look into her chocolate eyes. Her mother's. She wiped her little thumb across his cheek.
"Don't cry. We're together now, everything will be all right."
"I think you're right, Grace," he murmured. "It will." He placed her gently back down on the pavement, but kept both of her hands in his calloused palms. "Were you headed back...home?" Even as she stood right before him, it hurt to think of her other family. She nodded.
"I was, but now you can come too. Mr. and Mrs. Brookshire know I've been looking for you. They'll let me go with you. Besides, you're my home, Papa. Unless…"
"Unless what, baby?"
"You do want me to come and live with you now, don't you?"
Her uncertainty made his chest ache. Jefferson pulled her against his chest and stroked her long hair. "More than anything. I just wanted to make sure it's what you want, that's all." Relieved, Grace took one of his rough hands and lead him towards the 8th house on Drury.
Grace tugged her father up the stairs to her residence of almost thirty years. She threw the door open and bounded inside, tossing her school bag in the corner out of habit, earning a pang from Jefferson's heart. She acted like she owned the place, another reminder of the home she had found without him.
"Mom, Dad?" she called out, leading her Papa into the sitting room, where the Brookshires sat reading the daily paper. Mr. Brookshire choked on the tea he was sipping at the sight of Jefferson in his living room.
"Good God, is it really you?" He hastily folded his paper and stood, offering his hand. "Myles Brookshire."
"Jefferson, and I'm just as dazed as you. I'm glad to finally meet the couple responsible for my Grace's happiness all these years. There's no possible way for me to express my gratitude." He turned to Myles's wife, who introduced herself as Rosalie, and bowed deeply.
"The pleasure was ours sir," said Rosalie, rising and grasping his hand. "Your daughter is an angel. I assume you'll want to go home with your papa?" She smiled kindly at Grace, who rushed forward and embraced her adoptive mother.
"Thank you, Mom. I'm sorry, but I have to. Promise you'll come visit?"
"As often as we can, honey." Mr. Brookshire wrapped his arms around his wife and daughter. Jefferson looked at the ground and shuffled his feet. When the little family broke apart, Grace announced that she was going to go collect her possessions from her bedroom upstairs.
"I've had all my things packed since the curse was broken," she said softly, smiling up at them. Her mother offered to help, leaving Myles and Jefferson alone in the parlor.
"Thank you-" he began, but Mr. Brookshire cut him off.
"I know. Just make sure she knows how much you love her. When we all woke up, and you didn't come for her, she thought at first that maybe you weren't here, in Storybrooke, that maybe you were still in the Enchanted forest. But she never gave up. I can't imagine how relieved you both must be. Take good care of our Paige."
"Always, Mr. Brookshire. And please, don't hesitate to come visit next door, I know she'll miss you both so much." As the men shook hands again, Grace and Rosalie came bounding down the staircase, each of them carrying a suitcase.
Jefferson waited on the porch while his daughter said goodbye to her former parents. When she came out, and shut the door softly behind her, it sunk in. His daughter was here, her warm hand in his again, and they were going to be together, a family. No more Wonderland, no more searching or helplessly watching from the outside. He had his Grace back.
"Come on, baby, let's go home."