Emma turned off the engine and sat silently. 24, Carroll Avenue was a large, slightly dilapidated Victorian-style mansion. In the cover of darkness, it definitely looked foreboding. During the day, she had been impressed by its size and grandeur, but in the shadows of the night, all the architectural pieces that she had admired were transformed into grotesque shapes. Emma squared her shoulders. She had been preparing for this all day. She had picked up her gun and taser from the Sheriff's office and had already cased the block twice. Time for action. She pushed open the car door and swung her legs out. The cool night air did nothing to lessen the heat in her blood. She was so close to an answer. She could feel it.
Finally only a large wooden door lay between her and the answers she was seeking. She swung the heavy knocker several times, hearing its dull thud echo in the silence of the night. The door creaked open slowly to reveal a young man with a manic grin, and Emma suddenly had a bad feeling about the whole situation. She should have told someone she was coming here. She had left the Jones residence early, in order to spend some time with Mary Margaret and in order to avoid Regina, who was to drop by to pick Henry up. She gave Mary Margaret cryptic answers when the brunette asked her what her plans for the night were, and based on the woman's coy looks, Emma could tell that she thought that Emma would be spending some quality time with Killian. Speaking of Killian – Emma had told him that she would be late, and not to stay up, but she knew that he would not heed her words.
The man stepped out and was illuminated by the heavy lantern that hung over the door. His hair was messy, and was that eyeliner? It was smudged under his eyes, and the shadows that the light was casting on his face only made him look more disturbing. She squinted. Wait a minute. He looked familiar. Had she seen him around town?
He extended a hand.
"Sheriff Swan!" he exclaimed cheerily. Too cheerily, thought Emma grimly. And almost forced. She tensed up.
"How good of you to come. My name is Jefferson. Please! Come inside."
With that he stood aside and gestured broadly inside the house. Emma moved cautiously, her eyes never leaving the still-smiling man and her hand never leaving the handle of her gun that was tucked into the holster at her waist.
The inside of the house was no better. Rich damask wall paper clashed with the velvet upholstery. Funnily enough, the man matched his house, from his dark velvet blazer to his patterned cravat. Jefferson led her through the dark halls of his house into a large dining room. An eight person table set in walnut stood in the centre of the room. He gestured to a seat, and Emma lowered herself slowly, taking in the surroundings and looking for an escape route if she needed it. It had been fairly straightforward path, but there was only one door in the room.
Her thoughts were jarred when Jefferson placed a teacup (with a mismatched saucer) in front of her. He sat down in the seat next to her and watched her like a hawk. Emma picked up the cup and raised it to her lips, all the time watching him. He continued to smile broadly. She took a sip hesitatingly. It seemed that once she had indulged him in whatever crazy tea party he had concocted that he would start talking. Indeed he did. As soon as she returned the cup to its saucer, Jefferson leaned forward.
"You were on the right trail, you know." He said in a conversational tone.
Emma stared at him, her mind working at a rapid pace.
"Regina."
He leaned back in satisfaction.
"Who else?"
Emma suddenly had a million more questions.
"How? Why?"
He tsked at her.
"Surely you already know! Why would the Evil Queen want anyone to be happy?"
Emma's blood ran cold. She remembered where she'd seen him. He'd been lurking around the school while she had been waiting for Henry. He looked deranged then, like a wounded animal. Emma wanted to approach him, but she had lost sight of him in the shrieking mass of children. He looked dangerous then, and he was starting to look dangerous now.
She stood up abruptly, her mind screaming at her to leave.
"You're insane." She hissed.
He rose to his feet, smile still plastered across his face.
"I'm the only one who can remember." His eyes gleamed bright and he moved towards her. Emma fumbled for her gun, her senses surprisingly dull. Her hand felt like lead and she let the gun fall to the floor. She unexpectedly felt very tired and the room began to spin. The tea. He'd put something in the tea, she thought as she felt herself fall in slow-motion towards the floor. He squatted down next to her and brushed the hair out of her face.
"Where do you think you're going, Savior?" he mocked.
When Emma awoke, she found herself on a large sofa. She tried to use her hands to sit up, but found that they had been bound behind her back. She struggled to sit up, and discovered that her feet had been bound too. She looked around the room. Jefferson was not there. She had time to think. She looked around for a weapon of any kind. He had removed her gun and her taser, she realized in frustration. Not that they could help her get free now. She noticed a small vase on a side table off to her right. She maneuvered her way over, and stood up slowly. She managed to knock it over onto the rug, and sent a pillow from the sofa flying after it. She stomped down on it heavily, and was satisfied by the dull crack she heard. She nudged the pillow away with the toe of her boot, and squatted down. Her hands fumbled for a shard, wincing as the sharp pierces nicked her skin. Finally her hands were free, and she set about undoing the binds at her feet. As soon as she was free, she heard the door across the room start to open and she leapt to her feet. Jefferson entered the room and did not look perturbed that she was free.
"I'd hoped that you'd wake up soon." He told an incredulous Emma. "We have work to do."
Emma spluttered in indignation.
"We?! Work?!"
He had the audacity to roll his eyes at her.
"I don't have time, Emma. I need you to believe."
She stared at him in shock. He rubbed his hands over his face, and shot her a wild look.
"I have to find her, My Grace. I have to! We have to go home!" he was starting to sound desperate.
Suddenly it was starting to make sense.
"Grace…is your daughter." She guessed.
He let out a hollow laugh.
"Yes. And the one thing in life that mattered to me. The Evil Queen tried to keep us apart, because I refused to help her…I'm cursed with the burden of knowing."
He sank to his knees and howled. Emma moved towards him carefully, hoping to sneak past him, but he sprang to his feet immediately, looking more manic than ever. He grabbed her wrist hard, and pulled her through the door. He dragged her down a hallway and pushed open a door with his foot, and pushed her through.
He released her on the other room. It was lined with shelves, and in turn, the shelves were lined with gaudy hats. All the same hat – a tall hat with a wide brim, a piece of paper stuck in the band. In the middle of the room lay a table covered with scraps of materials and tools.
He turned to her.
"I'm stuck here. We all are. The curse." He laughed crazily at the mention of it.
Katherine. Her own crash. Emma let out an involuntary gasp. He moved closer to her.
"But you…you, Miss Swan…" his hands moved to her hair, gently brushing strands away from her face. "You're the Savior. And I need your help."
She pushed his hand away roughly.
"You're crazy." She spat.
"Why? Because I'm talking about magic?" he demanded.
Emma didn't answer.
"Maybe you're crazy." He accused. "I've seen it with my own eyes. You've seen the clues in this godforsaken town. Why don't you believe?!"
All the memories she had been trying to suppress came rushing back.
"No." she said, but it lacked conviction. He grasped her shoulder and pushed her down roughly into a chair.
"Get to work." He snarled. "You've got hats to make."
"Don't you have enough?" she sniped.
"None that work. That's why you're here."
She stared at him for a beat.
"The hats. The tea. The general craziness. You think you're the Mad Hatter."
He looked at her strangely.
"My name is Jefferson."
"Look, if you're buying Henry's stories-"
He cut her off with an impatient wave of his hand.
"I don't know what you're talking about." He said coldly, "but you're wasting time. You'll be staying here until you make a hat that works."
Emma had no choice but to pick up the pair of scissors in front of her.
Several hours later, Emma produced a slightly wonky, but still discernibly a hat. Jefferson grabbed it out of her hands.
"I can't make it work! What you're asking is impossible!" shouted Emma.
"It has to work!" he snarled in response. "I need to get home! I need Grace!"
He grabbed at his throat, pulling away the cravat to reveal a deep scar that ran around his neck. He dropped it to floor and turned onto Emma.
"Get. It. To. Work."
Emma took the hat from him carefully.
"I'll try." She said softly. As soon as he looked away, she grabbed the scissors from the table and swung it into his hand. He screamed in pain and Emma took that advantage to slam his head into the table, knocking him unconscious.
"Crazy son of a bitch." She spat. She tossed the hat to the floor and sprinted out of the room.
She ran down the hall, looking for an exit when she ran into a warm body. She pushed wildly.
"Calm down! It's me."
Killian stood with his arms up in defense. Emma stared in shock.
"Killian, what are you doing here?!"
"It's really late. You weren't answering your phone. Nobody knew where you were."
He gestured towards the end of the hall.
"I came across your car while looking for you, and I came inside." He peered at her closely, concern burning in his eyes, his body leaning towards hers. "Are you okay?"
Emma gripped the front of his shirt wildly.
"Listen, Killian. We need to leave. There's a madman here!"
Killian took her hands into his, his eyes searching hers for answers. Emma choked back a sob, not sure if he would believe her (she certainly wouldn't believe her!), but he surprised her with his next question.
"Where?" he asked.
Emma shakily pointed at the room she had left.
"We should take him in. Shouldn't we?" he asked.
Emma, now much calmer, nodded. The hysteria that was ravaging her body had now left. She need to ensure that Jefferson was locked up. For everyone's safety. She led Killian to the room and threw open the door. Jefferson was gone. The scissors, now drench in blood, lay on the floor. Emma was stupefied. How could he have left? There was only one exit to the room. It had no windows, just the door she had come through. She would have seen him if he tried to leave. Her eyes moved to the hat on the floor. Did she just imagine a glimmer on the brim? She picked it up.
"Emma?" Killian's voice broke her out of her reverie.
"He's gone." She announced, setting the hat down on the table.
Killian gripped her shoulder, squeezing gently. "I think we should leave too."
On their way out, Killian brainstormed solutions to find the missing man.
"We'll get a search party tomorrow." He declared as they left the house and headed to Emma's car.
Emma shook her head slowly, wishing the cold night air could clear up the muddled thoughts in her head.
"He's gone." She repeated. The words were finally sinking in. Nothing was making sense. Well, nothing was making sense up until this point. Magic…it seemed ludicrous, but so did all of the events. Most of all, it all led to Regina. Lost in thought, Emma didn't realize that Killian had stopped and was inspecting her hands.
"Swan, you're hurt." He said, as he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. Emma glanced at her hands. They were a bit bloody from when she cut herself free, but in all the commotion, she hadn't noticed the injury.
"It's nothing-ahhh what was that?" she exclaimed as he poured a liquid out of a flask that he materialized seemingly out of nowhere.
"Rum, Swan." He tossed the flask away and using his good hand and lips, tied a tight knot around her wounds. Maybe it was her imagination, but was he purposefully being slow? He pulled the knot leisurely, maintaining an intense gaze while doing so. Emma sudden felt very hot and flustered.
Emma followed the movement of his lips, unable to tear her eyes away. It must have been the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, all the events of the past few weeks finally catching up to her and running amok in her system, but as he lifted his head back up and his eyes searched hers from under his eyelashes, Emma dragged him by the collar and pulled him towards her. He let out a surprised noise when her lips met his, but was quick to the uptake, and soon he was kissing back just as fiercely. She swayed into him, feeling the heat of his lips on hers, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip. He sighed and Emma took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His hand moved into her hair, cradling the back of his head. They continued to make out for a few more minutes and then Emma abruptly pulled away. He involuntary moved with her, his eyes on her lips, still wanting to kiss her. She looked into his eyes and noticed how unfocused they were, and she almost smirked with satisfaction until the full weight of her actions caught up with her.
"That was…err…" he started in a dazed tone.
"A one-time thing." She dropped her hands and strode away, her heart beating wildly in her chest.