The stone felt cool under Jefferson's skin, despite the heat of the day. His restless fingers wandered around in random patterns on the smooth surface of the step. Sitting on his front porch, he stared at nothing and thought about everything. For the past few days a thousand questions had been spinning in his mind, yet all he could seem to think about now was how the stone beneath his finger felt eerily like the silk he used on his hats. Or the silk of his scarves.
His fingers stopped their wandering, moving slowly from the cool stone to his sweaty neck. He tugged at the scarf, feeling stifled, strangled – decapitated. A familiar feeling. Two fingers slid under the black scarf, moving along the uncannily smooth and rugged scar running across his neck.
Off with his head.
The need to hide the scar had always been obvious to him. It would raise too many questions. Not that he was ever around people who could ask them. He was never around people at all, if he could help it. But still, the scar stayed hidden. Maybe he was hiding it from himself. It was hard to say.
Thankfully, Storybrooke's gloomy weather was usually condusive to scarves and coats. But on the rare, stiflingly hot days like today, his lavish custom-made clothes were unbearable.
Closing his eyes, he could almost feel the forest around him. The heat always brought out the forest's richest, most earthy smells. On the hottest days, he and his Grace would leave their little cottage and hike to the lake, often bringing their food with them and staying by its cool waters all day long. He could see her now, tucking up her skirts and dipping her bare feet in the water, resting them on slippery rocks covered in thick, slimy moss. He could hear her laughing, calling to him . . .
"Hello, Mr. Jefferson."
Eyes snapping open, he jumped to his feet. He stumbled backwards up the steps, reaching his hand out to one of the stone columns, trying to steady himself.
She was standing in front of him.
"Hello," she repeated, a hint of uncertainty in her sweet voice.
He knew he should answer her. A smile, a nod, anything. He couldn't scare her away, couldn't lose her. But this was the first time she'd spoken to him, even looked at him, in twenty-eight years. All he could do was stare at her, breathing heavily, unsure whether he was falling into a dark hole or being pulled out of one.
"Um, I'm Paige," she continued slowly, staring at him with what seemed to be a mixture of curiosity and fear. "I live just down the street, with my parents. We've been your neighbors as long as I can remember, but I've never actually met you. I'm on my way to school, so I just thought I'd say hello."
Swallowing hard, he managed a brief nod. She smiled a little, then turned to leave.
Grace . . .
"Paige!"
She turned back to him, obviously startled. Still, she simply looked into his eyes with the brave, wide-eyed curiosity he'd seen a thousand times.
"Thank you," he choked out. "Please . . . please say 'hi' whenever you want."
She smiled, waved, then turned and walked away from him.
Jefferson sank back down to the steps, holding his head in both hands. Regina hadn't missed a beat. She'd given him all anyone could ask for – and enough to keep him quiet – when she'd brought him here with the curse. He had a mansion, lived alone on the edge of town, and had a fortune large enough to keep him from needing to work or interact with anyone else. But Regina had also known exactly how to torture him in the most painful way possible. For nearly three decades he had sat by and simply watched the one he loved more than anything else. He had watched her believe that the friends who had once been neighbors were her true parents. He had watched her live every day with no idea that he existed. She was always so close, but he had been powerless to reach out to her.
Until now.
Ever since the clock had ticked, he'd known something was different. It only took one trip into town to hear about the arrival of a certain Emma Swan, and it hadn't taken much effort to keep tabs on her since then. This Emma certainly had Regina up in arms. No wonder, when she was starting time again and turning the town – and possibly the curse – on its head. This girl was special. She had magic.
Finally, after years of watching, it was time to act. It was time for everything to change.
