Groggily, Jefferson opened an eye. For a moment the white-washed walls and ceiling blurred as he adjusted to his surroundings. He was no longer on the cold operating table: instead he was lying in bed, the soft fabric resting upon his skin. Jefferson glanced around, noting the few sparse decorations across the room and the wooden peg that held his coat, cravat and hat. Elizabeth's fingers were wrapped around his right hand, her nightdress spilling onto the bed.
'This has got to be a dream,' He thought, although to his disappointment, when he examined his upper body, it was swathed in bandages and several dark bruises ran along his arms.
"Elizabeth?" Jefferson called huskily.
Elizabeth's hand snapped away from his and her head jerked up. Yawning loudly, she murmured, "Sorry Victor, I didn't mean to doze off…"
She rubbed at her eyes and looked around in confusion. "Oh, you're awake!" Elizabeth realised, sighing with relief. She leant over and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I didn't realise you'd come round so soon, Victor said it would take a while for the chloroform to wear off."
'So that was what the handkerchief was soaked in,' Jefferson thought, vaguely recalling inhaling something before falling into unconsciousness.
"Have you been here all night?" Jefferson asked; his tongue as dry as sandpaper as he spoke. Elizabeth nodded.
"I couldn't just leave you!" She exclaimed at his guilty expression before handing Jefferson a glass of water. He gulped down the contents, the cool water seeping down his raw neck. Elizabeth stroked his cheek and added: "Someone had to watch over you. You were in a rather bad condition last night. And I'm sorry, about what I said the other day, I didn't mean it-"
"It's fine, really," Jefferson cut in, "I understand why you wanted to leave, and even if you can't leave with me, there must be a way to stop you marrying that vampire."
"He was the one who attacked you, wasn't he?" She asked, glancing down at the three sets of stitches on his neck.
Jefferson nodded, and Elizabeth's concerned look grew even more sorrowful. Ignoring the aching sensation, he lifted an arm and rested his hand on top of hers, "Surely him attacking me is enough to prove that the arrangement should be called off? Victor must be able to see now that you shouldn't marry the Count?"
"Victor wishes for me to marry the Count about as much as you do, but he did not make the arrangement. Our father did. His will clearly states that should I refuse to marry the Count, all of the money to my family's name goes to the Count. Victor and I will receive nothing."
"But he isn't even a member of your family."
"I know. It's ridiculous! Victor is his son," Elizabeth said, and Jefferson frowned at her despondence.
'I could give her some of the gold I get from selling off Rumplestiltskin's straw,' Jefferson considered.
But as he parted his lips to voice his thoughts, the sudden breath caused a shooting pang in his chest. Jefferson groaned and tentatively touched the bandage. His hand recoiled as the pain only increased. The cry startled Elizabeth from mulling over her predicament.
"Careful! Don't touch it," She warned, getting up from the stool, "I'll go and get Victor. He'll want to check you over and he ought to have some pain-relieving medicine for you."
Elizabeth strayed for a moment, running her colourless hand along Jefferson's black and blue bruises before hurrying out onto the corridor to fetch her brother. Once Elizabeth had gone; Jefferson slowly lay back into the pillow, being careful not to jolt his chest. The approaching footsteps kept him from slipping back to sleep and he craned his neck to peer through the doorway to see the doctor arriving.
"How do you feel?" Victor queried, sitting down on the stool Elizabeth had been on.
"Like I took the wrong pill in Wonderland," Jefferson muttered in response.
"I'm afraid it won't get better anytime soon," Victor sombrely announced as he examined the bandages.
"Some bedside manner you have."
"I'm a scientist, not a hospital doctor! Look: do you want the bad news or the really bad news?"
Jefferson shrugged and Victor continued, "I believe that you have two broken ribs, and you can see for yourself the bruises and the scars on your neck. Of course, those will heal far faster than your ribs, which could take many weeks. Depends on how successful a recovery you make."
"I don't need to recover. I can just use magic, I'll be as good as new then," Jefferson said, wincing in pain as he tried to get up, "Just give my hat and I'll be out of your way-"
With a cry, Jefferson flopped back, breathing heavily with exhaustion.
"You're not going anywhere yet," Victor said firmly, grasping his shoulder as if to stop Jefferson from trying to get up again.
"But Rumplestiltskin-"
"Not buts. I'm sure the dark one will be very interested to find that science, not magic, saved his best thief's life. Now get some rest."
With that, Victor placed a small vial on the bedside cabinet and rose from the seat.
"Where are you going?" Jefferson said, trying to make his hoarse voice as demanding as possible.
"I have to go: the carriage for Elizabeth's wedding rehearsal will be here soon. However I do suspect my role as best man is to restrain Elizabeth from punching her fiancé," Victor informed him, before adding, "I'm sorry about what I did. If I had known quite how the Count would react, I never would have told him about you and Elizabeth. Still, at least he didn't take your hat. Then I would be fearing Rumplestiltskin's wrath."
Jefferson made a noise of agreement, though his attention was turned to trying to decipher the minuscule dosage instructions on the vial's label. It was only when Victor coughed loudly did Jefferson look up to see him lingering in the doorway.
"You know, last night, after Elizabeth found you, she didn't sleep a wink," he said, "She wouldn't leave your side. And she told me all about your reading lessons, how much she loves hearing your tales of far off lands- and of the argument you two had. She cried harder than I've seen her cry in a long time, somehow scaring herself into believing that the argument could have caused you to turn up here half-dead. I realised then that the feelings she has for you are very real, and that perhaps you requite them."
"I wouldn't have come back if I didn't."
"Good. That's good, as I think that maybe...you'd be...good for Elizabeth," Victor mumbled.
"Are you giving me your blessing?" Jefferson teased.
Victor ignored his comment and instead shouted back to Elizabeth, who had been calling him.
"I really do need to be going," Victor said, before nodding at the vial in Jefferson's hand, "Take it before you sleep. There should be enough for tonight."
Jefferson dubiously studied the dark liquid inside the vial, though when he looked back up Victor had disappeared. The castle had suddenly fallen silent without Victor or Elizabeth.
'I suppose I may as well sleep.'
Jefferson downed the vial's contents in one; though he grimaced at the foul taste it left in his mouth. But within minutes he was overcome with fatigue, sinking back into a deep slumber.
Lush grass flows in the breeze, the tips bent, brushing against the back of her head. The late afternoon sun beats down, the grass vividly green beneath the clear blue sky. Every colour is dizzyingly bright, though her skin remains like paper and her hair as dark as a raven's feather. Not that this bothers her. Her lack of colour makes her seen transparent in the glittering light.
She delicately floats down the path, her white dress and grace reminiscent of an angel. With a joyous laugh, she whirls around. Her lithe arms extend as wide as she can make them, her hands reaching out, the daisies still coiled around her hair. She moves in time to an inaudible tune, her feet waltzing back and forth. With every step forward she grows almost close enough to take her hand. Just as he is about to reach out, she darts away again and wanders further down the path.
Desperately, he follows her. But no matter how hard he tries, she keeps slipping away.
Always just out of reach...