"Rumpelstiltskin…what took you so long?"

He felt his stomach drop as he pulled his hand back and stared into the eyes of his former associate, seeing a recognition there he hadn't seen in decades. It had been years since he'd heard his own name spoken out loud. But now, it was as if everyone was saying it. First, Regina, now Jefferson. It struck him like a hand across his face.

"You have your memories…"

"Yeah, it's a curse. Literally," he huffed.

Jefferson crossed his arms over his chest almost casually; meanwhile, he still felt as though he couldn't breathe. Jefferson knew! He had his memories! Why hadn't he known Jefferson would know? Why hadn't ever found it odd that he was the only one who had an unchanged name, aside from David, of course. He was an idiot. He should have realized the second he saw the town records that Jefferson-

"What do you want?" he spat out quietly before looking around as if to see if anyone else saw he was there.

His shock faded as he pondered that question for a moment, bringing himself back into the present moment. What did he want from Jefferson? Nothing he wanted to discuss out in the open, no matter how secluded his mansion was.

"May I…?" he motioned to the rest of the home, quietly requesting entrance.

Jefferson hesitated. It covered up the hesitation in his own mind. He hadn't been planning on finding a Jefferson with memories intact. That changed things. He would need a new argument if he wished to leave here with Jefferson agreeing to help him.

Finally, Jefferson stood aside. Once in the residence, he led him through the halls and into a kitchen that he could only describe as "modern." How odd...Storybrooke, buildings and houses alike, had the feeling of a town where time had stopped. Nothing was updated, nothing was new, and if the few television programs he'd watched over the years told him anything, it was that most, if not all of the town would not fit into the world beyond the town line. But Jefferson's home...it was different. It smelled like fresh paint, new tiles, white or bland colored walls with a splash of color here and there. It was all straight lines and right angles like it had been professionally designed and decorated by an interior decorator. It was as if time moved forward in this house, but in this house only. It was a surreal feeling.

"Still a tea drinker?" Jefferson asked him as he tried to disguise his dis-ease in the house.

"Yes," he lied, looking around as he got to work in the kitchen. He didn't drink tea, not much these days anyway. Like so many in this world, he'd made the switch to coffee, and now tea reminded him of unpleasant memories that made his chest burn. It reminded him of someone. He turned back to Jefferson, who stood over the stove before he could think too much of it. Belle couldn't help him now. "I need a favor."

"Sorry, you are fresh out of 'favors,'" Jefferson muttered, not even bothering to look up at him as he worked. "If you'll recall, you traded them all away when I went to fetch Cruella De Ville from London."

"And then I saved your daughter's life."

Finally, he looked up at him. "You didn't do that because I owed you a favor," he argued. His eyes were hard and wearied, so far from the curious and carefree boy he'd once encountered. He was the opposite of that boy now, and all at once, his mind got over the shock of meeting him again, memories intact, and instead filled with questions. Where had he been? Why did he have his memories? Why was Grace living with a family across town instead of with him?

"When I saved your daughter, we made a deal, we-"

"Hadn't yet struck that deal before Belle begged you to help, and you couldn't resist being the hero in front of her. I never signed a contract, never gave verbal agreement, not even a physical agreement such as a shake of the hand or a nod of the head. You forget how much you taught me, Rumpelstiltskin."

He was right. And it left him speechless.

It was blow after blow after blow with him, it seemed. His old accomplice had grown teeth since he'd last seen him. He knew where to strike and strike hard he had. Because it wasn't the lack of formal deal that had him practically on his knees now, but the mention of Belle, he hadn't been prepared for hearing his name spoken aloud after all these years, hearing Belle's name…it made his chest squeeze dangerously tight. It hurt. Jefferson had spent all of one night in the castle with him and Belle, but he was smart and observant. He'd almost forgotten how he'd picked up on something between them even before they had. Or maybe just before he'd wanted to. So far, he deeply regretted coming to Jefferson. His old associate was far from a friend. Right now, he was aiming for pain, aiming for shock and awe. And he was succeeding.

"There's that look," Jefferson muttered as the kettle began to whistle.

"What look?"

"The look of a cursed man who can't have what he wants."

He swallowed as he turned to fetch some teacups. No. He couldn't have what he wanted. He wanted his child, and he wanted Belle. One of those things was gone forever, never coming back. And how foolish was he to still want her after all these years, to still feel her loss as though it was an open wound that should have closed years ago? Fucking True Love…

"Belle is dead," he stated as emotionlessly as possible, for Jefferson's benefit as well as his own.

Jefferson's head snapped up in shock from where he poured the tea. A moment of quiet, of total stillness as the words, the truth of it settled over them both. And then the surprise passed, Jefferson blinked and swallowed as time moved forward, and he looked back down at his task, focusing too much on making sure the tea got into the cups.

"You don't say…"

"Yes."

He wanted him to suffer? He wanted him to feel what he'd felt, fine. He could play that game. He could play that game because Belle was dead, but Baelfire was still out there. He still had a chance at getting half of what he wanted. Now that he was here and saw the situation, he knew it wasn't ideal, but he could still work with it, maybe even more than before. He just had to be willing to suffer a bit with the Realm Jumper. Camaraderie. Wasn't that what he'd wanted when they were in the Enchanted Forest, and his wife had died?

"You were right all those years ago. I loved her," he admitted as Jefferson brought him a cup with a smell that reminded him of her. "If I could see her again, take it all back…I'd do things differently, but I'm not here for me. I'm here for you."

"You've intrigued me," he stated, taking a seat by the window. "I'm not saying I'm willing to work with you, but I am curious."

"You always were…" he muttered to himself, glancing at the other seat. "Very well." He took the seat opposite him and set his cup down, desperate to get the smell away from him. He needed to get a grip. Jefferson had thrown him off balance. He needed to take it back. He had to make a deal. He could focus on that. "You know the look of a cursed man because you see it every morning when you look into the mirror, don't you. Your daughter, Grace…she goes by Paige these days, doesn't she? In the care of a Mr. and Mrs. Grace…ironic, isn't it?"

"What do you want, Rumpelstiltskin?" he snapped, finally sitting forward and setting his own tea down. He wasn't the only one who knew how to touch a nerve.

"I find myself in need of assistance. I had hoped to ask a cursed version of my former associate, but this kind of cursed version works just as well."

"I don't work for you anymore," he stated clearly with bitterness in his voice. "And I've been stuck here for twenty-eight years, long enough to know that you're the boss of your own little mob. They do your dirty work just fine. Go ask one of them."

"None of them are in the situation you are. And…they're busy, at least the ones that I trust for this kind of job."

Jefferson slanted his head and stared at him through a careful and curious gaze. "What game are you playing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he smiled, happy he'd finally asked a question that might help them both. "I'm trying to break the Curse. That's why I can work with you better this way than in a cursed state. Because in this way I can offer you what I know you want…your daughter."

His remark came in loud and clear even though Jefferson suddenly shot out of his seat and turned away from him, a hand scrubbing over his face. He knew he'd heard him because it was that very concept of getting what he wanted that had elicited the reaction. They knew each other too well, he and Jefferson. He'd always put up a cocky front in the Enchanted Forest, pretending not to give a shit about the fact that he had a daughter. But he'd been proud of him. He'd been disappointed he didn't want to work for him anymore. But as a father, he'd known that he'd made the right choices, taken responsibility, loved his child. Love was a weakness. And it was what was going to get him through this plan. The promise of tomorrow…

"The Curse breaks, your daughter remembers who you are…she comes home. It's a win for everyone involved except perhaps, Regina."

"Why?" he choked out, his back still to him, grappling with the offer he'd made.

"Because she's the one who-"

"No…why are you doing this?" he asked, rounding on him. "I'm not exactly the most brilliant man, especially not after twenty-eight years of stewing in a cursed town without any concept of time, but I'm smart enough to put two and two together! This Curse…this is what you had me searching for all those years ago, this was what you were training Regina for, this is what you wanted! So why the hell do you want to break it now!"

"Buyer's remorse."

"No…you're too smart for that!" he pointed out with a chuckled. "You knew what you were getting yourself into. And I've been watching from the shadows long enough to know that you haven't always had your memories, which means you figured out a way to wake yourself up early. You wanted this. Why would you suddenly unwant it?"

They knew each other well, too well perhaps, which was why he had no intention of telling him "why." Not even after all these years. He hadn't even wanted to tell Belle. The secret of his son would stay with him. Except…they knew each other too well…

"There's something here, isn't there?" Jefferson presumed, lowering himself back into his seat again. "The first time we met, you asked if I could bring you here, and I said I couldn't. This is how you did it. This is how far you were willing to go to get to this realm! There is something here worth cursing an entire land for! What is here that you needed to reach? What could you possibly want in a land without magic?!"

"You can ask all you like, dearie…but I'm not going to tell you that," he responded as calmly as possible. Shared history, it could be a bitch. "All I will tell you is that you and I are more alike than you know. We're both alone in a world searching for someone to love, someone to love us."

"You think that's here?"

"I know it is."

"What, you know…you know Belle is alive? You think this is the only way to get to her."

"Belle is dead. My happiness lies elsewhere…" he stated, rising out of the seat himself. He cast his gaze out over the view Jefferson had in Storybrooke. Ironic. It was ironic, just like everything about this curse. Once, he was a man who valued riches and freedom. Now he had probably one of the most comfortable homes in Storybrooke, a high income. He wanted for nothing…save his daughter. He was trapped in a world of meaningless riches. Just like he was. But out there, beyond the borders of Storybrooke, there was hope. His son was out there. He just had to see this through. He had to get to him. Belle would want that.

"If I agree to help you, and that's a pretty big 'if' from where I'm standing, by the way…what would you need me to do?"

He felt no victory in hearing the question. There was only relief.

"Kathryn Nolan-"

"David's 'wife'?" He turned back to glance at his former associate and raised his eyebrows. How did he know that? Jefferson shrugged at the silent communication. "I took a hint from you; I watch everything. I've had to do something these last twenty-eight years. "

"Yes…" he muttered, suddenly noticing the telescopes and the windows in the home as he hadn't before. He probably would have been better at spying than Dove had been, though that was irrelevant now. He had to focus. "Kathryn Nolan went missing last night."

Jefferson snorted. "Tragic, not that you seem torn up about it. I'm going to guess it was Theseus son?"

"Let's just say I know she's in a safe place with someone I trust."

"Of course you do. So…what's this got to do with me?"

"Mary Margaret-"

"The Former Snow White." He nodded and stalked back to retake his seat.

"She'll be charged with her murder soon."

"That could be problematic for the two love birds."

"It could be, but she's not the concern."

"So who is?"

"Her daughter. The Savior," he sighed as he let his cane tap against the floor. "Emma Swan is the Savior. She's the daughter of Prince Charming and Snow White, the product of True Love. The magic she carries with her is unique. She has the power to break the Curse. That's why the clock began to move again the night she decided to stay here. She has power. She just doesn't believe it."

"Her son-"

"Henry tells her all of this…but we both know that adults aren't always likely to believe what their children say. She needs to hear it from someone else."

"And you want that to be me," he assumed correctly.

He nodded. "Mary Margaret will be charged with murder. She'll escape. She'll run. And because Emma loves her, whether she knows of the relationship or not, she will come after her to prevent making the situation worse. I need you to intercept Mary Margaret. I need you to get Emma here, somewhere the Queen can't reach. I need you to make her start asking the right questions, convince her she's special, help her see that Henry's stories might be more than stories."

"Why else would a Mayor want to frame an elementary schoolteacher," Jefferson mumbled, proving he understood the situation in just a few short sentences better than anyone else. "And then I get my Grace back…"

And there was the downside to this plan. He was a patient man, but he'd never known Jefferson to be someone willing to sit on the bench and wait for something to happen. He needed Emma to start believing so the Curse could break. But after this plan, it could be a day until the Curse broke; it could be another year. Jefferson wasn't going to be happy.

"This is a delicate process-"

"No."

"It's a long game-"

"No."

"We have to play-"

"NO!" hits hand against the table between them. "No…I'm done playing long games. I'm done with watching my daughter like a stalker through a telescope lens! I want her back! I want my Grace back the way she was! I want you to fix her like you fixed yourself. Wake her up!"

"I don't have that kind of power here!" he shouted back. "Not yet! But if you do this-"

"Why should I?" he screamed, getting on his feet again. "Why should I do this for you?"

"Have I ever led you astray?" he asked calmly. "Have I ever lied to you?"

"You weren't there when I needed you," he answered back through gritted teeth. "Why should I be here when you need me?"

This old argument. He knew what he was referring to. He was talking about when his wife died. He'd kept expecting him to come in and visit, and then what? They could grab a beer? Weep together over the death of Whatshername? He had feelings for Jefferson, a host of them that he couldn't sort out. As the Dark One, he hadn't seen any benefit to Jefferson's marriage or child, only the fact that they took him away from where he needed him. But as Rumpelstiltskin, as a father and a former husband…he respected the man more than anyone, and that included Mr. Gold. He'd felt for him. He'd spent nights regretting not going to his aid, remembering that this was about getting Baelfire back, not making friends with the help. The Dark One had been upset when Jefferson left because talent was wasted. Rumpelstiltskin had been upset because he'd grown fond of him and considered him something of a son. The fact that they'd come to this…he was torn.

"They call me mad…did you know?" Jefferson finally asked. "Do you know why they call me that? Why my daughter isn't with me? Do you know where I was before the Curse hit? Wonderland. I was trapped there. The Evil Queen hired me to retrieve something from that realm for her. I left Grace with some neighbors, and the pair of us went to retrieve it because I had no money, and she promised to make it worth my while. She didn't tell me that what she wanted me to retrieve was another person, her own damn father!

"The same number of people that go into Wonderland have to come out. Did I ever tell you that? One of the quirks of the land. Regina tricked me. She got her father back, but I…I was left behind. I was a sacrifice to her! And Grace, my Grace…I couldn't get back to her! My hat was gone. I spent…I don't know how much time it was trying to construct another one, trying to find the same power my grandfather had! I spent years waiting for you to come and help me out of there! To use the portal I'd given you to help me! But you never came!

"It felt like forever all that time I spent trying to get back to my daughter! And then the cloud of magic swept over the land, and now here she is! She's right in front of me. But she doesn't even know her own name! And you know who helped you do that?! You know who helped you create this Curse, the Curse that gave Regina that power to keep us apart?!

"It was me! I helped you do it! This is all partly my fault because I listened to you! So why should I do it again? Why should I listen to you? So far, you've been the worst mistake I've ever made."

"Because you'll tear the world apart to get your child back," he answered softly, trying to dislodge the rock that had formed in his throat. Those were hefty accusations he'd just thrown at him. And they were true. All of them. Every last one. It didn't matter that in the months before Regina cast the Curse, he'd been held a prisoner and couldn't save Jefferson. He knew that information would be lost on him, irrelevant. He had to get him to look to the future, not the past. And it all started with something he could do in the present.

"Emma breaks the Curse, I bring magic back…you get your daughter," he explained easily. "Everyone can be reunited with their loved ones, not just you. But this is a crucial piece. And it may take me a while to deliver on my promise, to return the favor, but I've never promised you something and not delivered. This is just how it's done."

Jefferson leaned back against his kitchen counter. He folded his arms over his chest and looked down at his feet, crossed at the ankles. He thought he might have heard him sniff. Finally, he raised his eyes and looked at him. "I'll do it…" he answered. "I'll do it to get my daughter back because Grace needs me. And then I never want to see you again, Rumpelstiltskin."

"Is that a formal request?" he asked, trying to find some bit of humor to dispel some of the tension, though he couldn't figure out what that mattered to him. It wasn't a formal request. It was just…it was the end. He'd said things like that to him before, but there was a finality in it this time. It felt like a deal was being made. They'd finally arrived at their last deal.

"Can't be…then I'd owe you two favors," Jefferson answered.

"We'll stick with just the one then." He smiled despite the seriousness of it as he recalled the Seer's words. He'll return the favor. Yes. Even if it wasn't formal, something in the magic around them understood a deal was being made. He just didn't know what that final favor would be. He'd have to be surprised. But he found he was remarkably okay with that, for once in his life. "I need to get back to the shop," he muttered quietly, getting to his own feet and leaving his tea untouched. "Things to do, people to see-"

"Plots to hatch…" he finished for him in a sad sort of way. "Why did you do this? Are you really never going to tell me?"

Never…never was a bet he wasn't comfortable making, not with Jefferson, not when he lived forever. But it did seem unfair in a way. After all the work he'd done for him, after what he was about to do.

"Because once I lost someone that I love. And to get them back again…I too would tear the world apart."

"Is that why you went after King Maurice? Moe French?" Jefferson corrected quickly, grabbing hold of the only loss he knew about. He wasn't wrong, not entirely. But he wasn't right either. Not entirely. "I heard what you did to him."

"That was just a man finally receiving his just rewards for his daughter's death."

"Wait, you…you think her father killed her?"

"There is more than one way to be responsible for a person's death, Jefferson. I'll see myself out."

"What if she wasn't?!" Jefferson cried out before he'd taken less than three steps. "Dead, I mean. What if you could get her back? I mean…I assume you want magic for something."

His chest hurt again. One breath. Then another. He had to stay steady and focused. "Magic can't bring the dead back. I thought you would have learned that from me."

"Hypothetically, then."

"I stand by everything I've said. And more. For those I love, I'd tear the world apart with no regrets. I'll see you're compensated for your troubles, Mr. Jefferson."

This was a hard chapter to write because it's sort of a painful reunion for Rumple and Jefferson. But I'm not going to lie, writing this chapter was also lots of fun. This was one of my favorite relationships to write about in the Enchanted Forest, but I always knew in the beginning that it was destined to go downhill. This conversation is sort of the end of that process. Yeah, there is teasing and familiarity between them, but this conversation is also violent in its own way. But there are a few little gems here. There is an acknowledgment from Rumple, finally, that Jefferson meant something to him. Jefferson finally is able to tell him where he was before the Curse. And I know it's cruel but I also loved the fact that throughout this conversation Jefferson obviously knows that Belle is alive. Not only does he refer to her in the present tense but he also flat out says "you know she's alive" (not *think*) and Rumple just never seems to catch on to it. As the reader we know there is more to what he's saying and doing, but out of context Rumple doesn't. Rumple thinks his surprise at his statement that Belle is dead is just because she's dead. We know it's because he knows she's not. His questioning that Rumple *thinks* Moe killed Belle isn't because it's a crazy theory. He's just shocked that Rumple doesn't know what really happened. And of course the beauty of the statement "you know she's alive?" He's not saying it because it's a theory. He's guessing just how much Rumple knows or doesn't know. So, yeah, hard chapter to write. But also really fun!

Thank you Alarda and Grace5231973, for your reviews on the previous chapters. I'm super nervous about this one; I spent a lot of time editing and tweaking it and making sure it was just right. But I finally got it to a point where I'm ready to give it to the world and just see what happens! I really hope you enjoy this surprise Jefferson chapter. I think it's one of my favorites in this, even if it is hard to read at certain points. Peace and Happy Reading!