Jefferson spent the remainder of his birthday on the couch in sweatpants, drinking cup after cup of hot tea in front of the television. He paid little attention to the programs, dozing off between them. He woke to the painfully quiet house, wishing things after breakfast this morning had gone differently. He wasn't surprised things had gone the way they did; he knew Killian would get fed up soon enough. Everyone did. Jefferson hated himself for it, but it was a default setting; push away anyone who could possibly hurt him or be hurt by him in the future.

Jefferson didn't exactly have a monumental amount of people to fill the void in his life, but Killian was willing to offer Jefferson company and companionship and Jefferson was blatantly ungrateful in return. He figured it'd be better this way. He knew he'd eventually say or do something to push Killian away, and there's no telling what Killian was actually capable of.

Eventually during the early evening, Jefferson pulled himself to his bedroom. He contemplated going up to the second floor of the house, even paused at the foot of the stairs, but then decided against it. The day had already brought enough heartache as it was.


"Papa?"

Jefferson woke with a start, eyes wide and unfocused on his dark bedroom. Heart racing, trembling, forehead damp with sweat, he stood. He was on the verge of calling out for Grace when he glanced down at his modern-day pajama pants and t-shirt, remembering. He glanced at the clock that read it was merely nine o'clock in the evening; he had only been asleep for three hours.

Darkness consumed him. The heavy weight on his heart made it difficult to breathe. Nothing could calm this anxiety; he'd experienced it before. He needed someone, but no one was there this time; he had pushed Killian away and was left with no one to comfort or console him. He needed a fix.

Jefferson crossed the room to his dresser, digging around in the top drawer before he found what he was looking for: a business card for Dr. Whale. He crawled back into bed, running a hand over his face before he called the number. He sat, lip between his teeth as he listened to the rings. He was sure he was going to leave a message, until he hears someone pick up. And then there was a laugh.

"Jefferson," Whale answered. "I didn't expect to be hearing from you so soon."

"Me either," Jefferson replied.


When Jefferson got to Whale's house, he immediately felt cold and even more alone than he had in his bedroom. The place was nice-not as nice as his own-but it was decent. Jefferson sat in the living room waiting for the doctor to finish whatever the hell he was doing on the computer. He was still in his white coat and work clothes despite getting off work earlier in the evening, and it was nearly midnight at this point.

"Go shower," Whale said after a while. "I'm nearly finished. Don't bother getting dressed, just wait for me in the bedroom."

Jefferson nodded, doing as he was told to.

He waited in the bedroom for five minutes after getting out of the shower. The room wasn't particularly cold, but still he shivered. He tried not to think about anything-the impending sex, the way he very clearly hurt Killian, what Grace would think if she knew he were doing this to himself. Instead, he only told himself that it would be an hour, two tops, and then he could have a high a soon as he could reach Gold. The old familiar craving of an escape made everything worth it.

Just then, Whale walked in and interrupted Jefferson's thoughts. He said nothing until he had stripped to his underwear and then motioned to Jefferson. "On your knees."

Jefferson's eyes went to the tent in Whale's boxers as he slid to the floor.


He hated this; he hated it. Whale was never gentle and always mocking. Being on his stomach was easy, though; it allowed Jefferson to cry silently without being noticed. He felt no pleasure from any of it; he wasn't expected to. His job was to satisfy his customer's needs and right now, those needs included rough, deep-dick fucking.

Jefferson felt Whale's cheek press against his shoulder. The thrusts lost their rhythm as the doctor picked up pace. Moments later he was grunting, and Jefferson breathed a deep sigh of relief. He waited for the man to pull out and remove the condom before he turned to sit up. He watched Whale retrieve his wallet and count out the payment. He handed it over to Jefferson, looking down at him curiously.

"Your fisherman friend isn't around to take care of you or what?"

Jefferson tried to act surprised by that. "What?"

"Don't be stupid; the girls in the diner talk about you all the time.

Jefferson's eyes remained fixated on the money in his hand. He shrugged nonchalantly. "I needed the money," he stated. He gathered his clothes from the bathroom, shoving the wad of bills into his coat pocket.

"Will I see you again soon?" the doctor asked, his tone dripping with mockery.

Jefferson looked at him one last time. "Depends on how desperate you get, doesn't it?"

Whale laughed, sharp and feigned. "Fuck you."

"But you already have!" the hatter retorted sarcastically.

"Get out of my house, Jefferson."

"I'm already gone," he snapped, walking out of the bedroom.