Emma wakes feeling extremely disconcerted, one that she is waking up in her old apartment in Boston and two that there is a man asleep beside her. Any man that she invited back to her apartment left before the sun rose, which had been ideal for her at the time. Now she stares at Jefferson with a mixture of novelty and confusion, wondering what the next step is. Considering the possibility of something lasting twists her stomach and she gets up for a shower, leaving him to sleep on his front.
They had made love silently many times throughout the night, the act flirting with the forbidden as they tried to keep quiet. Emma knew he was storing a lot of untapped passion and now that he has an outlet she prepares herself for how unrestrained he will be. It is equal measures frightening and exhilarating, to be the target of his attraction but for it to not be purely physical. That is what scares her, how emotionally attached he is to her already and how she is gradually becoming the same. Pushing these thoughts away Emma rinses the soap off her skin and steps out, grabbing a towel to wrap around her body. When she enters her bedroom he is sitting up in bed and reading a magazine but when she walks across his field of vision his eyes snap to her.
"Good morning," he says drawlingly and Emma smiles briefly.
"Morning. How are you doing?" They had not had much sleep last night, most of it being interrupted by Jefferson waking from nightmares. She had held him, whispering calming things and he would either fall sleep or roll over on top of her, needy.
"Okay…I'll be fine," he says in a steady voice but avoids her gaze. He throws the magazine aside and sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over to snag the hem of her towel in his fingers. Emma bites her lip and allows him to pull her forward until she is standing between his knees. Wet tendrils of hair tickle his face and shoulders as she gazes down at him and he smiles up at her contently.
"If you're not okay you can tell me."
"I know I can," he whispers and his smile fades. "Honestly I'm all right. I was shocked yesterday but it's not something I can't recover from. I've been through worse," he reasons derisively and Emma manages a smile but it is weak, her eyes swiftly glancing at his scar. Seeing that she is unconvinced he leans up to brush his lips against hers but Emma pulls back.
"We should get dressed. They'll be up soon and we'll need breakfast. I'll have to go out and get something," she tries to walk away but he fists the towel, stopping her but then lets go after she gives him a pointed stare. He sighs and slumps back down onto the bed.
"None of us have any clothes. I don't have any money," he realises aloud and turns his head on the mattress to watch her get dressed. Emma purses her lips in bemusement at his blatant voyeurism and throws the towel at his face.
While Emma shops for breakfast and other essentials Jefferson watches the children. Sitting on the couch they watch television while Jefferson looks out at the view, watching the Charles River roll by. Grace reaches for the hat on the coffee table. She peers at it, rolling the hat back and forth in her hands and bites the insides of her cheeks. Jefferson glances at her, noting her conflicted gaze and plucks the hat out of her hands.
"I know what you're thinking."
"What?" Grace asks and follows him when he goes to the window, hat still in his hand. She looks at it longingly.
"You're thinking about what Cora said, about your mother."
"She might have been — "
"No Grace," he interrupts, "she was lying. Don't even think about helping her," he says firmly and Grace nods but he can see she is not swayed. Seeing her mother alive has given her hope and while he does not wish to be so cruel he has to make her believe that there is no hope for her mother's survival. He brushes the scar visible around his neck and after a hesitating moment she touches it.
"Does it hurt?"
"No, it's just a scar."
"How — how are you still alive? The scar goes right around," she looks at him in confusion.
"Wonderland exists with its own set of rules. I couldn't die, no matter what she did. That's what I want you to know Grace; the person who ordered this to happen was Cora. She was the Queen of Hearts and she drove me out of my mind. That's why I don't want you anywhere near her, I don't want you to get hurt."
Grace's mouth opens in horror and she promises profusely that she will never help Cora. As she adamantly speaks a look of outrage far too fierce to belong to a child flares in her eyes and Jefferson blinks before taking her into his arms.
"We have to stop her papa…what if she has mom and dad?" she asks suddenly and pulls back, looking horrified.
"Jack and Wendy…" he says and feels a jab of guilt. After everything that has happened he has hardly spared a thought for them. While it has been a few days for him it has been several months for them. He can only imagine what they think must have happened, no doubt with him as the guilty party. But if they are trapped in Storybrooke then he has to save them, no matter their quarrel.
"Do you think they're all right?"
"I'm sure they are. Don't worry Gracie, we'll find them," he smiles and pushes her gently back towards the couch with Henry, who has been listening. As Jefferson comes close he looks up at him inquisitively.
"Are you and Emma dating?"
Jefferson looks wide eyed at Henry, who stares at him curiously. Grace turns to listen and Jefferson clears his throat, looking between them awkwardly.
"I guess…you'll have to ask Emma."
"You don't know?" Grace asks sharply.
"It's complicated, that's all I can tell you," he goes to Henry and crouches down, staring at him openly. "I care about her."
"You do?" Henry says sceptically.
"I love her," he answers simply and Henry gazes at him in confusion.
"But you kidnapped her and forced her to make you a hat. I overheard Emma and Mary Margaret talking about it."
"WHAT?!" Grace yells and stares appalled at her father. "Papa!"
Jefferson groans and rubs a hand over his face. He sits on the armrest, trying to think of someway to justify his actions when Emma comes through the door, carrying groceries. Jefferson springs to his feet and helps her, leaving an aghast looking Grace to stare after him. It does give him some relief that Henry does not appear as put out, though he has more reason to be. Emma notes their expressions and cocks her head at Jefferson who winces in apology.
"Henry asked me about us and then he let it slip what I did."
"And what was that?"
"The whole kidnapping thing."
"Oh that thing," Emma says with a sarcastic grin, placing a bottle of orange juice in the fridge. She shrugs as his desperate face. "This is all on you; I'm not going to bail you out. You did a shitty thing and shitty things have repercussions, like disappointing people."
"I know that and I'm not expecting you to bail me out. I know what I did was wrong but Grace knowing it has been something I wanted to avoid," he stares at his daughter who is watching cartoons again in worry. Emma pats his shoulder with a smile. She has forgiven him for what he had done, understanding his reasoning but that does not mean he gets off scot-free.
As Emma places bread into a toaster Jefferson walks back to Grace and asks to speak privately. Revealing the lengths he had gone to to get her back is a dreadful thing to admit but the more she listens the less apparent her disgust appears. He tells her everything except his part in attaining the apple. He can not bring himself to admit such a shameful sin, not to his daughter and certainly not with Henry in earshot.
"You shouldn't have done that. Emma wouldn't have been able to make the hat work, not without magic."
"I know that now but I couldn't accept it. I was desperate and I thought she wouldn't help me if I just explained it to her. I sounded mad but I wasn't."
"Papa…" Grace utters pityingly, head tilting and he looks away from her. She doesn't have to say it but she knows he is not mentally stable, the one thing he never wanted her to acknowledge. With an effort he turns back and regards her steadily.
"I want you to know that I'm not dangerous. I don't want to hurt anyone and I won't," he looks over at Henry who is eavesdropping and nods at him. "I don't want either of you to be scared of me."
"I'm not scared," Henry says with a shrug. "For the longest time no one would believe me, I had to see a therapist but I knew I was right. So I kinda get it."
Jefferson smiles at him. "I wish I had been able to talk to you. We were the only ones who believed."
"You would have been good on Operation Cobra," Henry says affably and then goes to Emma when she calls them over to eat. Breakfast consists of a choice of cereal, toast or scrambled eggs. Everyone helps themselves to what they want and then sits in Emma's kitchenette.
"So when are we gonna rescue everyone?" Henry asks around a spoonful of cereal. Emma glances at Jefferson who shrugs.
"As soon as I figure out what's going on. I tried to call Mary Margaret and Ruby but got nothing. I'm praying that they made it out," Emma whispers, worried and Jefferson stares at her thoughtfully.
"I might be able to help. The hat can find people, if you know where to look," he gets up, piece of toast in hand and places the hat on the table beside him.
"But I don't know where to look," she says dejectedly.
"Do you have anything that belongs to them?"
"Not here."
"Yes you do!" cries Henry and tugs on her hair. "You're their daughter, you share DNA. You can find them using yourself."
"Will that work?" Emma asks Jefferson and he tilts his head.
"Only one way to find out. I'll need a strand of your hair," he says and holds out his hand. Emma plucks a long single hair and lays it on his palm where he lets it fall into the hat.
"Now what?"
"I need you to concentrate on your parents and nothing else. Just picture them in your mind. Try not to think of a place, just them," he offers the hat to her and Emma takes it, looking sceptical but closes her eyes to concentrate.
First she imagines Mary Margaret or Snow as she is really called. Their physical similarity had been striking from the first; they are often mistaken for sisters. The truth is far more bizarre but Emma ignores it and focuses on her mother and father. She had formed an emotional bond with Mary Margaret even before she knew the truth but David is different. He dotes on her unabashedly but Emma is still trying to accept that not only does she have a father but that he loves her to such a degree. She should be a stranger to him but he does not see her that way. The relationship with her parents is not perfect, it is strained and often awkward but she knows they would die for her. She experiences a sharp jab of longing and wishes that they were here. The hat shudders in her hands and her eyes spring open. Jefferson directs her to place it on the ground and she does, stepping back hastily as it begins to swivel slowly.
"I think it's got a lock. Keep thinking of them," he stresses and Emma nods, staring at the hat, wiling it to work. As she does the pendant flares alive against her chest and the hat suddenly spins madly, shooting up into the air. Jefferson catches it as pieces of paper suddenly fly out of the hat to land at their feet. Emma bends down to pick one scrap up.
"They're receipts," Emma says, looking at it with a frown. Jefferson comes to her side to see as Grace and Henry pick up the rest. The receipt is for a coffee shop in Boston, one not too far from where they are. The other receipts are from the same place, stretching back over the last few months.
"Look, they go to the shop around the same time," Henry notes while a slow smile blooms on Emma's face.
"They order coffee with cinnamon on top every time. I know where this is, come on!" Emma waits impatiently as the others hastily finish their breakfast and put on their shoes and then she races from the door while the others run to catch up.
They arrive at the café beside Boston Common but see no sign of anyone they know. Judging from the timestamp on the receipt they are twenty minutes early so they sit and wait. It is a warm, sunny day and the large park across the street is crowded with city dwellers and tourists. Jefferson, like Grace, has not had the opportunity to venture beyond Storybrooke and they stare at everything appreciatively. The city is massive, far bigger then anything Grace has seen and while Jefferson has seen cities and worlds that dwarf this it is still overwhelming. Storybrooke had proved difficult for him to venture out in, after spending so long isolated but the more time he spent in his own world the easier it became. He will never be like he was, to explore without hindrance and he mourns that silently.
"She should be here by now," Emma says worriedly and stares out of the window at the park. As she does something red bobs in and out of view and Jefferson squints his eyes.
"Is that?"
"Ruby!"
Overjoyed, Emma jumps up and races from the shop and across the street towards the young woman. Ruby seems to be sniffing the air, her nose up and as Emma gets closer she suddenly spin around. At the sight of her she screams loudly and runs forward.
"Emma!" she almost knocks her over as she hugs her and Emma laughs. Ruby pulls back, nose wrinkled. "Where have you been? You smell like home."
"I do? It's a long story. Why are you here? Where is everyone else?"
"Come look for yourself. Henry!" she shouts and swoops down to the boy who smiles, going a little red. Jefferson and Grace hang back as a group of people come running through the crowd. Suddenly Mary Margaret appears, staring at Emma in wonder before she suddenly bursts into tears.
"Emma?"
"Hi," Emma says in a trembling voice and her mother darts forward and pulls her into a tight hug. Emma wraps her arms around her and for the first time since she left she feels herself relaxing.
"Are you okay? Where have you been?" she asks, pulling back. She smiles through her tears.
"I'll tell you about it later. What's going on?"
"But what happened?" she demands emotionally. "You've been missing for months Emma! I had no idea where you went," as she says this she spots Jefferson hovering behind and then something violent flashes in her eyes. Before Emma can react Mary Margaret flies at Jefferson who stumbles back with a yelp.
"Mary Margaret!" Emma shouts as her mother pulls her fist back and punches Jefferson hard in the face.
"You took her! You took Emma and Henry!"
"No I didn't!" he yells and tries to ward off her blows, Grace screaming behind him.
"Snow!" Ruby shouts and drags her away from Jefferson, whose nose is now bleeding. Emma places herself in front of him and stares beseechingly at her mother. Mary Margaret would never punch a man in the face but Snow White will. She has already seen her kick the same man out of a window so she knows she is capable of anything if stirred to anger.
"Don't hurt him; he didn't kidnap me or Henry."
"Why is he here?" she asks angrily and Emma glances back at him. Grace has her arms wrapt around him, looking frightened. Blood runs down his chin and he mops it up with the cuff of his shirt sleeve.
"He's helping me. I wouldn't have been able to find you without him," she says calmly and comes closer to her. "I'm fine, I swear."
Mary Margaret nods but gives Jefferson a quick glare before pulling Emma into her arms again. "She captured Charming, he's been in the tower for months. We've been unable to free him or any of the others," Mary says gutturally and Emma stares at her pale face.
"We'll save them, I promise," she says firmly and hugs her again. As she does Emma spots a woman who has been standing amongst the crowd of onlookers. She smiles at her, lifting a hand in greeting.
"Morgan?"
"Hello Emma, I knew we'd meet again," the witch answers and comes forward. Emma pulls out of the embrace and stares at Morgan. She is dressed casually in jeans and a green vest, a beautiful woman who no one would suspect is actually a powerful witch. The pendant around her neck throbs and Emma grasps it in her fist.
"What's going on?"
"I'll fill you in on the way. I have a town house that everyone has been staying at. Shall we?" she gestures down the path and Emma follows, Mary Margaret at her side. She spares a glance back at Jefferson and regards him regretfully. Whatever had been forming between them feels like it is now tattered by Mary Margaret's disapproval and by the poignant look in his eyes he knows it to.
note:
So clearly I'm continuing. Thank you for all your encouragement guys, it means a lot. This final part of the story probably won't be as long as the first. I'm aiming for 4/5 more chapters.
