As Jefferson entered the confined realms of the inside of his magical hat, the day's events flashed before his eyes. Pure exhaustion was already boiling inside of him, finally reminding him that he had not had any time to rest since his mission in Oz. In spite of this, his mind continued to race faster than the speed of light, desperately trying to cling onto each second of the past day. With every memory, his brain desired to analyse and fully comprehend just how different his life was now. Whoever Priscilla truly was, it was impossible to deny the immense impact that she has enacted on the hatters normal and previously boring life. Before departing to Oz, Jefferson was an eccentric loner who mostly enjoyed regarding life in a cynical manner due to his previous life experiences and enjoying the reckless nature of his "job". His lack of family was a topic he rarely chose to address and his unique profession and sense of humour made it especially difficult to maintain a healthy relationship with anyone besides his employers. Bizarrely, the strange turn of events which led to the portal jumper now being huddled up on the marble floor of his hat lost in a peaceful slumber gave his subconscious the feeling that everything was about to change.

Once the young man finally returned to full consciousness, with a sufficient amount of energy restored to let him proceed with the task at hand, he headed towards the crooked wooden door which led to the Enchanted Forest. What seemed like only a few seconds later, after having whispered his next destination and passing over the threshold, the hatter was stood in front of the heavy oak build of the double doors which marked the entrance to the Dark One's Castle. Rumpelstiltskin was one of Jefferson's most demanding clients, or maybe, it was the other way around? The Dark One always knew where to find him and it usually proved to be at a moment in which Jefferson was most in need of money (which was more often than not as Jefferson was not the most frugal person). Their acquaintance had begun 10 years ago with Jefferson's first-ever mission and since then the hatter had considered the Dark One as his closest friend, a term not likely to have been used by the wool spinner, however, it would have certainly seemed so from by any onlooker. Neither man had much company which resulted in them developing an odd bond. Jefferson was one of the few lucky individuals to be on good terms with the Dark One and he intended on keeping it that way for as long as possible.

The hatter pushed open the burdensome doors, casually stepping inside and sauntering towards the Dark One's work location situated on the second floor of the massive building. With each careful step, he could gradually make out a second voice situated within the room which appeared to be arguing with his employer. Jefferson's carefree and confident nature did not always extend in relation to the Dark One. He was the most powerful sorcerer in the land after all and doing anything that could anger or disturb him would have likely resulted in Jefferson's suffering and the end of their unlikely friendship. This was not something Jefferson desired yet the back of his mind maintained its magnetic pull towards the woman whom he had left sleeping in his bed. The unavoidable force which told him to return to her as soon as possible proved too strong, causing the portal jumper to inch closer towards the door separating him from Rumplestiltskin and the second individual. The muffled voices from within seemed to be conversing about magic and power with the Dark One exclaiming "Stop wasting my time!" as the first complete phrase that the hatter could make out. Whoever the second voice was, they were clearly on the Dark One's nerves which persuaded Jefferson to remain motionless for a moment more in waiting for the right time to emerge.

"Can you teach me how to use magic to bring back the dead?" erupted the female in a shaky yet clearly desperate voice.

"Ah, so this will be a deeper conversation" through the portal jumper as he pondered over the decision whether to enter or depart and wait for his employer to be finished. In any other circumstance, Jefferson would have taken this as a cue to leave and return when the man was unoccupied giving them the time to catch up over a pot of tea as he recounted the events of his mission before collecting his reward. That is how their interactions usually took place. On the other hand, this was not a normal day. Jefferson was fully aware of the woman waiting in his hovel for his reward and he wanted nothing more than to return to her. The enigmatic character welcomed to him by fate occupied his every thought and the need to see her once more, to find out a sliver of information about her, was too powerful to let go.

Jefferson straightened out his long coat, which along with his hair had been terribly creased due to his quick nap prior to arriving at the castle, and took a careful step forward into the room making sure not to disturb the conversation. As he entered the room, filled with potions, books and a grand spinning wheel, he saw the second member of the conversation. It was a young woman, a few years older than himself, dressed in simple chocolate leather attire. The pair seemed too invested in their conversation as neither noticed him entering and continued bickering as he occupied a corner in the room waiting for the right time to make his presence known.

"Magic can do much but not that! Dead is dead" responded Rumplestiltskin to the pleading of the woman. In response she propped herself on the table by her side, looking defeated. Jefferson understood the melancholy which now dressed her face. He too had once approached the sorcerer with the same request only to be met with a mirrored response and a broken heart. Perhaps this was the reason for his loneliness. He once had a family and a content life, but after watching it be stripped away from him at such a young age he had lost all hope at ever feeling as safe or happy ever again. This also caused him to distance himself in fear of losing them just the same.

"Then I am lost" uttered the young woman, completely devastated at the Dark One's answer.

"And I've had my time wasted" replied Rumple unapologetically. Sure, he may have seemed fairly ruthless at this moment but if there was one thing known for certain was that the Dark One disliked nothing more than not getting what he wanted (and deal-breaking).

"I'm sorry but transcending death is beyond even my reach" claimed Rumple as he inched closer to the woman with a maniacal smirk forming on his lips.

Jefferson had grown impatient of standing in the shadows, now fixated more than ever at returning to his home, and decided to take this opportunity in letting himself be seen by stating "I thought nothing was beyond your reach."

The pair quickly turned to follow the sound of his unexpected voice, to which he responded "Busy… should I…?"

"No, no! Nothing of importance going on here!" exclaimed the Dark One before moving away from the woman and becoming Jefferson to join him by the large table situated in the middle of the room. Without hesitation, the hatter approached in a confident yet hurried walk as he fished out the crystal ball out of his leather satchel and presented it to his employer. The young woman still tried to approach Rumple but he simply brushed her aside telling Jefferson to ignore her, which he did.

"I got what you wanted" the hatter proclaimed with a proud smile as he outstretched his hand as the young woman looked on from a few steps away.

Rumpelstiltskin's hand greedily hovered over the artefact yet it retreated before he questioned the thief about the absence of the slippers, his main interest. Thinking back to the troubling task which called on the hatter to navigate his way around the Wicked Witch's castle back in Oz before discovering that the slippers had already been moved to another land, the hatter simply brushed off the question with his honest explanation before once more persuading the Dark One to simply take the globe and let him depart.

"That's what I needed to get to that other land" responded the deal-maker in an irritated tone.

Apparently, today was not his day (an all too frequent occurrence which no longer phased the hatter) and Jefferson would have most definitely partially blamed it on the appearance of the young woman, who now seemed to drop something which she had previously picked up and bringing their attention towards her for a moment. Her agitated demeanour and not so subtle way of eavesdropping on their conversation left Jefferson to wonder for a brief period if she was the woman that Rumplestiltskin had previously alerted him of prior to her visit. As if understanding the hatter's momentary lapse into his mind for the answer to his question, the sorcerer confirmed his suspicion with a simple nod of his head before continuing his spiel about the missing item.

Before Jefferson had departed on his mission to Oz, during one of their formal conversations, the Dark One informed him of an idea that he hoped the young portal-jumper could help him to execute. He spoke of a young and talented princess who had recently become his pupil in the art of magic yet was growing increasingly hesitant and less willing to participate in dark spells. In fear that her potential will be lost, and that she will be unable to enact the plan of the Dark One (a plan that Jefferson never cared to ask about prior to being one of the individuals most affected by it), the former coward recruited the help of the hatter in ensuring that the princess does not veer off of the path which leads to her destiny. After the harrowing events of the job in Oz and his meeting with Priscilla, Jefferson had understandably forgotten about this deal and what his participation required yet the other man's menacing smile was quick to remind him just what he needed to do.

Once Rumpelstiltskin finally brushed him off, stating that he should collect a sufficient reward for his troubles (and a bonus for the work that he was about to begin), the hatter clothed himself in his signature grand gestures and over-exaggerated persona as the sorcerer turned back to the distressed woman. The background was still decorated with a tense atmosphere as Jefferson concluded his search through the basket filled with gold thread (not forgetting to sneak a few extra strings to fill his deep coat pockets) and before he was about to embark on his journey back to the mysterious woman inhabiting his chambers he overheard a snippet of the conversation.

"So long as you live in the past you will never find a future"

The sorcerer's words continued to ring in the ears of the hatter even as he continued talking towards the young woman that Jefferson had already figured out was Regina. The young hatter had always considered himself to be an eccentric soul and had a rich interest in the past which was considerably more difficult to seek out due to his nature of work. Constantly jumping from one realm to the other made it challenging to find time to stop and admire what was happening in the now, making the past a mystery pleading to be uncovered. His own past was something of immense interest as well due to the fact that he knew so little about it. Being abandoned as a child to fend for himself in the dangerous and unpredictable world of Wonderland. Never knowing his parents or family resulted in a lonely existence which deliberately pursued the truth that for the past twenty years proved nonexistent. Jefferson had gotten used to such a clear and concise routine but the yearning for adventure and a disrupting to the predictable routine was always nagging him for change. That was the case until less than a day before he met her. Her. That beautiful yet enigmatic stranger that was in his house, his house! He had never looked forward to returning to that rotting hovel more than now. Just to find out who she was. Perhaps he could fulfil the next step in Rumple's plan sooner than he had expected? That way he would have more time to explore the future and move on from the past…

Just as the young man shook off his day-dream thoughts, he saw the dark one hop away as the young woman sulked with her head down in defeat. This was the moment. The moment that Rumplestilskin had planed in intricate detail. He had met with him and the doctor three moons prior to establish each step and prepare for every eventuality. Jefferson had already had the pleasure of exploring the sombre climate of the Land Without Colour where he had met the young Victor Frankenstein, slowly developing a pleasant friendship. Whenever Jefferson had the time in between jobs and his own personal travels, he found amiable pleasure in visiting the young genius for a game of bridge and a glass of something ridiculously expensive. The hatter didn't consider himself to be a drinker but the opportunity was too good to pass up as the tipsy doctor supplied words of wisdom in alarming quantities. Most of the time it was impossible to keep track of what was being expressed by the blonde scientist but the portal jumper was sufficiently entertained with the wild hand gestures and ecstatic cries that followed after mentions of "electricity" and "science" (words with which Jefferson was entirely unfamiliar with prior to his association with the doctor).

The hatter drank up a large dose of air as he strutted towards the young woman before startling her with his words…

"Pardon me, for eavesdropping, but I feel that you need to look elsewhere for assistance!"

His words startled the young Queen but just as expected, his wild mannerisms and confidence immediately intrigued her to find out what the hell he was talking about.

"What do you know about it?" She pried with a hint of defensiveness towards the stranger.

"I hear things." He stated in a matter-of-fact manner before continuing, making sure that she had no time to lose interest.

"Jefferson's the name." He pursued while propping his collar as if it would help in making him appear more credible and worthy of her time. "I'm a man who travels and sees much and I know the man who can do what you want." He paused for effect before continuing with a menacing smile. "Bring back the dead."

Yes. That definitely struck a nerve in the Queen as he saw her eyebrow twitch and posture change ever so slightly. Being a thief made him an expert in human emotions and micro-expressions. You'd be surprised how often it came in handy. Not wasting any time, he continued with even more gusto than before.

"He's...um...you might call a wizard. I-I could bring him to you."

"At what price?" The woman demanded. Success! He knew that he had her now. She was interested. Now to seal the deal…

"There's always a price, indeed" Jefferson quoted his employer and continued further. "Anyway, here's mine. Like I said, I'm a man of travels and I've made many enemies along the way and I'd like a royal passport so that I can have free reign to traverse your kingdom". The payment may seem like an unnecessary formality. He was still a thief by all accounts but getting rid of the step that involved illegally trespassing on a property would mean that he could focus on the actual assignment. There's just something so appealing in stealing from a location where the victim invited you themselves.

"How would I do that?"

"Well you're the Queen, aren't you?"

"That's right. I am"

Her smile said it all. That small spark of selfishness leading to the Dark Side had been planted. Rumplestiltskin's plan was in motion and Jefferson felt a sense of pride and achievement. Had he known that this minuscule form of participation in what would effectively become a plot spanning centuries would cost him his entire life and happiness, perhaps the young portal jumper would have been more sympathetic to the impressionable woman or at least considered all of the eventualities before taking part in the ploy. But alas, he was clueless. Led on by the sorcerer. He was the perfect candidate for the role. That was his biggest mistake.

"And this wizard. Can he really bring someone back from the dead?"

She was still cautious. Not cautious enough. Jefferson knew that he had her in his palm. Ready to be moulded into any shape he desired. He stayed on course and answered as if reading from a script.

"Well. If he can't, no one can"

Not bothering to look back and grabbing his now-empty satchel, the young man left with a newfound spring in his step. He had other tasks to attend to. Personal business, if you will. Besides, the longer the Queen awaited the wizard, the longer the anticipation would fester and grow to decorate her heart in a black smudge. Jefferson had once been present during one of Rumple's hobbies: ripping out the heart of a greedy ex-employee. He saw the veil of blackness floating in the sea of red. He knew what it meant. He was also intelligent enough to know that his own organ had overtime developed such a chilling costume without needing a visual confirmation. The hatter decided not to let this knowledge haunt him too much. Life was to be lived, enjoyed. Being a criminal was clearly a less than moral and honest profession, but it was key to know when to stop and when to resist temptation. Everyone has a little bit of darkness in them. It is what you choose to do with that darkness that defies just what type of person you become.

Once he was back in the stairwell in which he appeared, Jefferson stepped into the mismatched doorway that clearly didn't belong to the rest. This time he didn't need to think of where he wanted to go. The same location had been on his mind all day.

…

The morning light dripped through the window and danced on Priscilla's eyelids, quietly whispering the announcement of a new day. A shy smile stretched on Priscilla's face before a calm yawn echoed in the surroundings. Her skirt ruffled on top of the thin quilt that offered a barrier between the straw and her delicate skin. The young woman opened her eyes and immediately jumped after seeing the foreign surroundings. Before she had time to run in fear of being trapped or worse captured, the memories of last night flooded her mind. She recalled the less than proper meeting with the peculiar man in the hat, their escape from the guards and finally his offer to let her rest. Why was he so kind to her? She stole from him and yet she was awaking in his bed. No. There wasn't time to think of ulterior motives. Priscilla had been in similar situations too often to know that you can never count on anyone. She had been running her entire life, she was not about to stop now. Taking one last look at the surroundings to make sure that there was nothing of value to grab and dash (the house was surprisingly sparse for someone who claimed to be a former thief), Priscilla bolted through the door.

Whisps of golden hair waved their final goodbye as the small cottage slowly vanished in the background. For the first time in her life, Priscilla felt a slight lump forming in her throat as she glided through the forest in the randomly chosen direction that seemed most promising. The feeling that she couldn't shake was the peculiar sentiment of attachment to the shelter and simultaneously to its owner. He helped her. Rescued her actually. Aided a fellow lost soul for nothing to gain. Offered his home. Shared an intimate location knowing nothing about her. Trusted her... Was he mad? Why would anyone trust her? Stealing was her only mean of survival since her mother passed five summers prior. Never spending more than one night in a single spot and avoiding all human contact if necessary, her mother warned her of the evils that surrounded the Enchanted Forrest. "Never trust anyone." That was rule number one.

A stray twig on the path grabbed the thief's aged shoe, causing her to fall to the floor in an ungraceful manner. The young woman managed to get up and inspect her injuries before propping herself on a nearby tree as exhaustion threatened to suffocate her completely. She inspected her body. Bruised knees, bleeding hands and another rip on her dress to add to the collection. She'd seen much worse. Making sure that no one was nearby and that the hovel had definitely been left in the far distance, Priscilla decided to allow herself pause. Fishing out of her dress pocket the only piece of food that she was able to find in the house prior to making her escape (a stale slice of bread that she had to moisten with her saliva in small pieces just to ensure that she wouldn't break her teeth), the woman found herself involuntarily thinking of the man she met the previous day. He was tall. Not as tall as an average guard at King Leopold's court, but at least a head taller than her. He had short chestnut hair that seemed to have a mind of its own as each strand pointed in a different direction and stuck out at weird angles. His charcoal coat provided a strange contrast to how extravagant and grand the structure of the coat was. It was almost as if he wanted his victims to know who had robbed them but not before he had enough time to inconspicuously complete his task. A typical conman. Priscilla had seen her fair share of such men. Arrogant. Untouchable. Yet there was something that made him stand out. Something that made her go against all that her mother taught her. Something that convinced her to trust him to bring her to safety, to fall asleep in his bed. His eyes. The two sockets that were deeper than the ocean. That was the biggest contradiction of it all. His cocky behaviour and outlandish appearance were simply fronts for the truth that was only revealed in his eyes. She saw a man running to get away from himself. Whatever was his story, it must have been painful enough to make him afraid of the unknown. He wanted a home, even if it was temporary and distressed. He wanted power, even if the only way to gain it would be through living the lonely existence of a thief. He wanted a kindred soul, even if he had only known her name. And she left.

Not wanting to second guess her obviously rational decision in favour of biased hypothesises, Priscilla stood up and shoved the remainder of the bread back in her pocket. Oxygen was finally flowing through her lungs at a regular pace, and the tears of blood flowing from her hands had developed a steady rhythm. As the girl continued down her chosen path, she noticed that she was no longer running and that was only partially the result of the limp which developed in her right leg.

…

Followed by a puff of purple smoke, Jefferson landed delicately on the plane in front of his hovel and picked up the hat that had been patiently waiting for his return. Honestly, there was no need for him to check inside to know that the young woman had already left, but some foolish ounce of hope pressured him to be certain. Just like countless days beforehand, the rotting door revealed an empty interior. This time, for the first time, Jefferson saw the space in a different light. One cup standing on the table, one meagre quilt clinging to a deserted bed and one kettle sitting abandoned on the stove. The desolate surroundings no longer felt like home. They were mocking him. Laughing in his face.

The hatter had no desire in feeling sorry for himself. He also had no desire to let the mysterious woman disappear from his life. Remembering their first confrontation, he saw the way in which his heart immediately pleaded to see her again. No one had ever left such an instant effect on him. He needed to see her again. Even if nothing came of it he had to try.

Determined and ready to pursue the beautiful stranger, Jefferson fixed his magical hat comfortably on his head. Exiting the familiarity of the hovel, he looked around the field and examined each possible direction that the woman could have escaped in. Settling on the direction of the forest, the portal jumper proceeded with confidence in search of answers, unaware that his future was already beginning to be written…