By the time Alice returned to Jefferson's house – she wasn't quite ready to call it "home" – Grace was curled up, asleep. Jefferson had long since had a room prepared for her. It appeared that it came with the home when he was trapped inside.

Another bit of emotional torture from Regina.

"I was wondering if you would come back," Jefferson stated as he followed Alice into the kitchen, eyeing the long wrapped item with curiosity. "What is that?"

"It's a memory that I will share with you later. First, I need a drink," Alice sighed as she ransacked a few bottles of liquor in a high cabinet before finding one with the smell of sweet rum. She pulled out a drinking glass and filled it nearly to the rim with a warm tea from the kettle on the stove and the alcohol before taking a deep swig to settle her nerves. "I needed some time to think. I didn't realize how late it had gotten. Is Grace comfortable?"

"She is," Jefferson answered with a nod. "Today was a lot for her. Sleep came easily." He watched Alice sip from the glass in a tense silence. "Are you ready for bed?"

Alice turned to look at him with a tight lipped scowl, "Rest would be welcomed. I haven't had a proper sleep in longer than I can remember. It wasn't simple to find sleep in that cell, as strange as that may sound." She moved to the doorway from the kitchen with glass in one hand and wrapped article from the pawnshop in the other and shot a look over her shoulder. "Are you coming?"

Jefferson didn't speak as he led the way up to his – their – bedroom. The walls were a deep red with a black diamond overlay that went horizontally around the ceiling. The carpet was plush and pearly white, doing perfectly in offsetting the harshness of the walls and ceiling. A few large windows were draped in black and white layered curtains, which perfectly blended with the dark furniture scattered around the room. The canopy over the bed was a laced black and hid the red and white bedspread almost completely.

It was a harsh contrast to the bedroom that held them in the cottage in the forest. The furniture had all been a light wood, and the walls were bright and cheery.

The change and its symbolism were not lost on either Jefferson or Alice. What once was full of joy was now tainted and broken.

This room was Wonderland.

"I like it," Alice finally said to break the silence. She let her fingers trail over different things before stopping in front of the large dresser and the mirror posted over it. "Oh, God. I almost forgot what I looked like." She placed the things in her hands on the counter before running her hands through her hair and over her face, trailing every feature. "I used to be a lot prettier. I wasn't so worn."

Jefferson frowned and moved behind Alice, wrapping his arms around her waist – and fighting against letting go as she flinched at his touch, "You're as beautiful as the day I met you. Don't think otherwise." He placed a soft kiss on her temple before resting his chin against the top of her head. "I worry for you and Grace. You have two worlds in your head… It's been a burden."

"We will be fine," Alice said with a slight chuckle. "It will not be the hardest thing I have faced, nor the hardest Grace ever will. I can sense how strong her spirit is. We will have no problems with her." Alice tilted her head back to rest in the groove of Jefferson's neck as she watched their reflections closely. "We are not who we once were."

"We could be," Jefferson offered with a quirked smile. "We're whole, Alice – "

"No!" Alice hissed as she spun around. "We aren't whole, Jefferson. We're broken. I'm broken and I'm scared."

"You've been through a lot," Jefferson tried to reason as he stumbled back. "So have I. It's going to be hard, but we can get back to where we were." He added a whisper to the end. "With some therapy, of course."

Alice shook her head ran her hand over her mouth with a sigh, "In the other realm, we were separated for nine years. In this one, it's been longer. You have no idea of what I've been through – "

"Then tell me!" Jefferson fought back a yell for Grace's sake. Her room was not close, but he did not want to take the risk. "I was in Wonderland making hats. Hat after hat in hopes I could creating one with the magic to free me. There were thousands when it was said and done. It was maddening having lost you both and being trapped in that place. You know my tale, tell me yours!"

"Hats?" Alice said with a laugh as she finished the rest of her drink and relished in the warmth that spread through her body. "I can see the chaos in the imprisonment that lasted what… a year, maybe two? If that. I do not deny how terrible that must have been. But, it holds nothing against my time there."

Jefferson took a few steps back and crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm listening."

Alice grabbed behind her and unwrapped the item she obtained from Rumpelstiltskin, "What does this look like to you?"

"It's a… fireplace poker?" Jefferson questioned, not entirely sure of what the real significance of the item was.

"Technically, yes," Alice ran her fingers down the iron rod to where it ended at a sharp point at the bottom. Her eyes trailed over each marking and scratch before ending at the handle. It was large and of a three heart design. It would have been a beautiful piece in any other time. "It's more than that." She looked across the short gap at her husband. "Using the scars on our necks as evidence, the curse was not strong enough to remove physical ailments. Do you remember how my body looked before?"

Jefferson gave a small nod, instantly uneasy, "Like the back of my hand."

Alice turned and set the poker against the side of the dresser before facing the mirror once again. She looked at Jefferson in the reflection as she pulled at the drawstring on her pants, "It might be a little different." She let her eyes fall closed as she stepped out of the pants and cream sweater and kicked them both aside.

As she stood in her intimates, she could feel Jefferson's gaze harden against the sight of her.

"I hate Wonderland," Jefferson gritted out as he moved directly behind her and raked his eyes over her reflection. He couldn't find the proper words to express his anger and pity for his wife.

This was what had changed her.

It took a few moments before Alice felt strong enough to open her eyes, and they hardened as soon as she did, "At least I can remember how I got them now. It was confusing when they couldn't be explained."

Alice's body was littered with scars from long since healed wounds and burns – most of which looked like a size variance of the one at her throat: nearly faded, but present enough to still emotionally sting. They were down her torso and waist, over her biceps and thighs. There were dozens of markings along her skin. "The Queen of Hearts liked to wait for one wound to heal, and then attack it again. It was her favorite game – much more preferred than croquet. She usually didn't inflict the punishment herself, but when she did..."

She bit down on her bottom lip as tears of disgust welled in her eyes, "I'm not as beautiful as the day you met me. That is painfully obvious."

Jefferson spun Alice around so that her back slammed against the edge of the dresser, "Stop." He dipped his head down to take her in a hard kiss as his hands gripped her shoulders. "You're beautiful. You're strong. You stayed alive." He dropped down to his knees to press his lips to every mark and imperfection that littered her skin.

"J," It was so rare that Alice would call him by only his initial that Jefferson paused to look up. It meant she was vulnerable. It meant she knew what he was trying to get across. One letter meant so much. "Stand up."

Jefferson pushed himself to his feet willingly and grasped onto Alice's hand to pull her back towards the bed, "I got my point across."

Alice rolled her eyes as she released his hand and crawled through the canopy – holding back a sigh of pleasure her body melted into the bed, "Yes, you did." Jefferson flicked the light off and chuckled with pride. He kicked his jeans off so that he was left in only boxers and a cotton shirt before climbing inside after her.

It was almost funny how easily they fell into one another's arms in an old familiar way. Jefferson rested flat on his back with Alice curled into his side and her head tucked into the curve of his shoulder.

He turned his eyes downwards and spoke with a soft voice, "I need to know that you don't hate me for what I've done."

"It's a fine line between hate and what I'm feeling," Alice admitted as she trailed her fingers lightly over his stubbled jaw. "However, you're on the right side of that line. I don't respect what you did, but after having time to think… I really do understand it." She pressed a soft kiss under his chin. "I still love you, Jefferson. I can get passed what you did to Belle in time."

"You're amazing," Jefferson was thankful that Alice couldn't see his eyes, for they were full of worry. Belle wasn't the worst of his transgressions. Recently, he had done things far worse. He couldn't stand the thought of what would happen when she found out – he wouldn't be foolish enough to think that the events would never come to light.

It wouldn't be pretty.

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