"Mr. Stone, what a surprise to see you here in the hospital?" Mr. Gold's voice shocked the man and he watched as Garrett jumped in his wheelchair and turned to face him. "May I ask, why are you here?"

"I heard that Belinda was in an accident. I was just about to see if she was alright."

Mr. Gold smiled a sickly smile. It even made Garrett Stone pale. "Oh, I can assure you, she's just fine. Nothing a little time won't heal. I just saw her. She sends her regards."

Despite any fear the man had, Garrett still managed to scoff. "Why the hell would you go and see her?"

"Why wouldn't I pay a visit to my girlfriend?" He jabbed. He knew it wasn't entirely the truth, but the need to hurt Mr. Stone filled his entire body. He saw the hurt and disbelief in the man's eyes and he felt success.

"Your girlfriend? You're lying!"

Mr. Gold chuckled as he slowly walked towards him. "I can assure you I'm not."

"Why would she ever want to be your girlfriend?" Garrett asked with revulsion.

"I suppose you could also ask why she would ever want to kiss me. But she seems to enjoy herself when she does."

"You filthy bastard!"

Mr. Gold clucked his teeth. "What have I told you about language, Mr. Stone."

"Go to hell!"

Quicker than lightning, Mr. Gold grabbed Garrett by the collar of his shirt. He twisted the fabric, cutting off air to Garrett's esophagus. "And what did I tell you about staying away from Miss French? I told you that terrible things would happen to you if you ever tried to see her again!"

"What're you going to do, old man?" Garrett taunted.

"Oh, let me show you!"

Mr. Gold called all of the strength that he possibly possessed, and he looped his arms through the wheelchair, throwing it, sending it flying backwards. Garrett landed on the ground, his face twisting in pain. His one leg desperately tried to help him up, but it was futile.

"I'm going to teach you, dearie, what happens when you cross me!" Mr. Gold said angrily as he raised his cane above his head and then brought it down. He heard the faint crack of bone before he did it again and again.

XxxxXXxxXXxx

"Jefferson, my goodness! You didn't have to do all this." Belinda exclaimed with a huge grin spread across her lips as she looked down at the tray on her lap. It was filled with all manners of good things to eat and the very sight made her mouth water.

She watched as the man piled his tray equally high with food and then sat down in the chair beside her hospital bed. He smiled. "My dear Belinda, forgive me, but I didn't think you'd want one more day of eating that awful hospital food. And this is the least I can do." He leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered, "After all, I did hit you with my car."

Belinda giggled and picked up one of the sandwiches. She took a large bite and sighed at the taste. "Oh my gosh, this is so much better than the hospital jello." She smiled softly. "Thank you, Jefferson, I mean it. You've been far too good to me these past few days."

"I've enjoyed our little chats, trust me." He took a bite of his sandwich and then raised a finger. "Now, just hold on, I almost forgot." His hand disappeared into his extremely deep coat pocket and he pulled out a small item that Belinda knew all too well. "I ran into Mr. Gold today, and he asked me to give you this. He said it meant a lot to you." He handed the chipped cup to her and Belinda gently caressed it with her fingers.

"It does," she admitted quietly. "It's such a beautiful little thing."

He nodded in agreement. "In fact, I remember the first time I ever saw that chipped tea cup. And I remember asking myself why on earth Mr. Gold, who probably had more china than he could possibly know what to do with, would use a cup that had been chipped. So, I asked him."

"What did he say?"

Jefferson smirked. "He said that that cup had once been dropped by someone very special to him, and that that was why it meant so much."

"I didn't take Mr. Gold for the sentimental type," Belinda grumbled before she raised her eyes off of the cup to look at Jefferson. "He told me that he once loved somebody, and that he lost her."

He nodded. "Indeed he did."

"Did you know her?"

"Not very well, but yes, I did. And from what I can recall Mr. Gold didn't lose her once, or even twice. He lost her a total of four times."

Belinda furrowed her eyebrows. "How is that even possible?"

"The first two times she left him and then decided to return. But the third time, they were separated and he couldn't find her."

"And the fourth time?"

"He told her a secret that she couldn't accept."

She scoffed. "Sounds a lot like me. As a matter of fact, he probably thinks I am this woman that he lost."

"Why would you say that?" Jefferson's eyes widened. If she didn't remember, then what could she possibly be talking about?

"Mr. Gold seems to think that I'm someone out of a fairytale book, and that everyone in this town is also a fairytale character. Have you ever heard him talk about that?"

Jefferson nodded. "He mentions it from time to time." Belinda sat quietly in thought; Jefferson's eyebrow slanted. "What?"

She shrugged. "I was just wondering. Who does he think you are?"

"According to him, I'm the Mad Hatter."

"From Alice in Wonderland?" Belinda asked in surprise.

He nodded. "The one and only."

"Gold's insane," she admitted as she shook her head.

"Is he though?"

Belinda's eyes shot to his as she gasped. "You actually believe him?" She cried in a high-pitched whisper.

"No, no," Jefferson assured her as he took her hand. "I'm just saying that we all have our own beliefs and are entitled to them. We may or may not believe in a god, in an afterlife, in a purpose for our lives. Those are all beliefs. You and I believe in a reality purely born in this world. But what if Mr. Gold simply believed in a world outside of our own. Would that be entirely insane?"

"Well, yes-"

"Why? Because it's not what we believe?"

Belinda frowned. "It's not what anyone believes!"

Jefferson gave a small, concerned smile. "My dear Belle, there are others who believe in this theory. I am sure of it."

"Why do you do that?" She quickly changed the subject and it threw him for a loop.

"Do what?" He asked in confusion.

"Call me Belle. Everyone knows my real name is Belinda, but it seems that more and more people are starting to call me 'Belle'. Like the Disney Princess. I'm not the Disney princess, Jefferson."

He smirked. "You know, I think we'll all be in for a surprise if Gold is actually right. If you are really Belle and I am really the Mad Hatter, I'll...I'll eat my hat!" He exclaimed and she giggled at him, some of the tension being released.

"Look, I'm sure everything will eventually come together," he said once her laughing fit had ended, "But for now, don't you think you should just talk to him? Hmm? Forgive him? I know that Mr. Gold would never intentionally try to hurt you. He loves you too much. And, if I'm correct, I think you still love him too."

Belinda was silent but Jefferson could see the truth in her eyes and he grinned. She sighed. "I know I do."

"Then let him have his beliefs, and he'll let you have yours."

"Maybe you're right," she admitted, albeit begrudgingly. "But I don't know if I can live with a man who believes that fairytales are real."

"Hey," he grabbed her hand again, "Do you remember the first time you realized you were in love with Gold?"

Belinda nodded. "When we kissed for the first time."

"And did you ever think, before then, that you would fall for him?"

"Not in the slightest."

Jefferson smiled. "Then you could say that you falling in love with him was like a fairytale come true, couldn't you?" She nodded in agreement and he nodded his head. "Exactly. Fairytales are real, Belle. Whether in the way that Mr. Gold believes or in the way that you believe, it doesn't really matter, so long as you both are happy."

She was silent for a long minute before her lips quirked into a smile. "I've got to go talk to him."

"Well, first you've got to finish eating this fabulous feast that I made for you. And I talked to the doctor this morning. He said that if everything has healed properly, you can go home tonight."

XxxXXxxXXxx

Mr. Gold's phone rang once before he picked it up, eagerly awaiting any word from Jefferson. Had he actually succeeded in such a short time? That was exactly the question that Mr. Gold asked him. "Does she remember?" He held his breath, anxiously waiting for a confirmation.

"No, not yet," Jefferson's voice came from the other end of the line and Mr. Gold's heart plummeted. She still didn't remember. The Hatter had failed. Mr. Gold gritted his teeth and was about to reply when Jefferson continued. "But she has forgiven you, and when she is released from the hospital tonight, she's coming over to tell you so herself. She may still not remember, but, if I might say so, this is still a step in the right direction. At least she doesn't hate you."

As much as Mr. Gold hated to admit it, he was at least glad of that fact. He nodded his head. "Thank you, Hatter," he replied gruffly and he could practically hear Jefferson's annoying grin on the other end of the line.

"You're welcome," he said smugly, before his voice became more serious. "But I promise, Rumpelstiltskin, I'm not going to stop until she remembers. Provided you uphold your end of the bargain with Miss Swan."

"We made a deal, Hatter, and I intend to keep it."

"You know my real name is Jefferson, right? Contrary to what you may believe, I actually prefer that."

Mr. Gold rolled his eyes. "I'll call you whatever I please."

"Is that any way to treat the man who just got your love life back in tip-top shape?" The tone of teasing made Mr. Gold sick and he blanched.

"Call me when you've made more progress." And without waiting for a reply, he snapped the phone shut and placed it down on the counter.

Just then, he heard the ring of the bell and the front door to his pawn shop opened wide. He plastered on a less-than-pleased grin. "Miss Swan, what a surprise."

"I'm afraid this isn't a social call, Mr. Gold," the blond responded in a hard tone that almost made him worried. "I'm going to have to ask you to come out from behind that desk."

"Excuse me?"

"Just do it, Gold," Emma ordered and Mr. Gold flashed her a grin that screamed annoyance. Nevertheless, he complied and came out from behind the desk. "Good. Now turn around."

Now he was really confused, but he did as she asked, instantly regretting it when she pulled his arms behind his back and he felt cold steel being locked around his wrists. Handcuffs? "What's the meaning of this, Emma?"

"Mr. Gold," she said as she turned him back around, "You're under arrest for assault and battery."

"Of who?" He cried out in bafflement.

Her eyes stared at him hard. "Of Garrett Stone." And with that, she led him out of his pawn shop and drove him back to the Sheriff's office where she locked him up behind metal bars.