He shouldn't care. But he did. He spent years telling himself that Jefferson was nothing but an associate, a former associate, to be perfectly accurate, with whom things ended less than profitably. He told himself it was so…but he knew better. He cared for Jefferson. Of course, Jefferson would never believe such a thing; that much was clear after their last conversation. He'd destroyed over the years anything that might have been, and he was reluctant to admit…it might have been something good.

He'd met Jefferson when the lad was a boy after his grandfather had died and left him his hat. He'd hired him, and they'd formed their business relationship, but he'd liked the boy's spunk. Of course, he'd tried not to show it. But Jefferson was witty and smart. He never showed any fear for him and had somehow made himself right at home in the castle. He'd had a room, he'd eaten his food; the teenager had been like a stray cat that he couldn't get rid of! He'd made displeasure at his presence known, but that displeasure had been only a façade. They both knew it. Jefferson never asked permission for a bedroom, never asked to be shown the kitchens, or hang around when he was bored. And he'd been the fucking Dark One! If he'd wanted the kid gone, it would have taken but a thought. His time spent in the castle during "down times" was confirmation enough that he'd been more than an associate. Underneath it, he was somehow aware that Jefferson, at some point, had started to see him as the father he'd never had. He'd tested the waters, called him "pops" every now and again, always in jest, but he saw now what it had been. Hell, he'd seen it then too. He just hadn't wanted to admit it. And why? Because he'd cared for him. Even if he hadn't wanted to admit it.

If he'd let Jefferson in, he could admit now that he might have been like a son to him. But the boy had come into his life too early, and at the heart of the issue, he'd been too afraid to acknowledge what it was Jefferson saw in him. He had eyes only for Baelfire! Letting another boy his age into his life in that way would have felt like a betrayal. His heart had been so encased in rock and wood and ice that the boy hadn't been able to break it, though…

Perhaps it was Jefferson who started to thaw the ice. He'd been hurt when Jefferson married his wife, retired, and had a baby. He'd been jealous. Hell, in the months that came after, he'd even been lonely. The castle had felt empty. Not that he'd have ever admitted it then. He'd put on a fucking circus act to hide it from Jefferson. But looking back, with nothing lose and all that he'd gained, he could acknowledge it. It was Jefferson's absence that made him so primed for Belle to come in. With the ice thawed, she'd burned the wood and smashed through the stone. If it wasn't for Jefferson, he might not have his Belle.

That realization washed over him. It only made thinking of Jefferson in Wonderland and Grace in the Enchanted Forest all that much worse.

Jefferson had prepared the way for Belle. Jefferson had freed Belle in Storybrooke. Jefferson also helped him to cast the Curse and then helped him to break it. That boy was everywhere. He'd just refused to see it until it was too late. And now he owed him a debt. He could see it now. He could see just how much of his life he owed to the boy who once needed and wanted him so badly that he rejected the very sight of him now.

He had to fix this. Not just because of the debt. But because he wanted to. Because it was the right thing to do. Jefferson hated him because he'd failed him once, and he wouldn't do it again. Even if he never saw him again as their last deal dictated, he had to at least know that he'd set him up for every chance at happiness he could.

And he knew how he was going to do it. Mostly.

He used the crystal ball to locate Orpheus and found him at a bus stop corner with a crowd surrounding him. He was playing the lyre he kept with him and singing a chorus of "La's" that had the people gathered into him mesmerized. And for good reason. When he finally arrived and got close enough to see, he realized that at the feet of Orpheus, there were flowers. They were healthy and beautiful. Red, blue, yellow, purple, and orange! Every color with fine, strong green stems and full leaves. And they were blooming right in front of their eyes. With every "la" it seemed a new one sprouted forth and grew at his feet, turning its gaze upon him as though he was the sun.

He felt a tear spring to his eye as he watched a child sit down and reach their hands out to touch the petals of a purple one as if they were something holy. Suddenly he understood that the appeal of Orpheus wasn't in the singing, though it was lovely. It was in those flowers. They were the first living, thriving thing he'd seen since being in this place, a bright spot that damn near hurt his eyes against this dingy background. Oh, he'd forgotten colors like that existed. How long had he been here?

How long had he been there? How long had he stood there among the people staring just as they had? He shook himself from his stupor. He couldn't do this. He couldn't stand there and be lost. He wasn't lost. He knew exactly where he was, and he knew what he wanted to do to get back to his Belle and his son and deliver Jefferson to his Grace. And he knew that if he was going to orchestrate this, he didn't want to be seen with Orpheus. That was the point in seeking him out in this way. The lawyer in him knew there was less of a chance of proving they knew each other just from a small interaction on the street where a crowd had gathered.

So, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small note he'd already written, asking Orpheus to come quickly to the library to meet him and tell no one of their meeting. He dropped it in the small hat that Orpheus had out in front of him to collect coins and other tokens, and then he left.

He walked to the library; hands in his pockets, head down. He was getting good at emulating the citizens of the Underworld. At drawing no more than what he considered to be a normal amount of attention to himself. The only time he bothered to look up was when he made his way back into the library and headed for the windows that overlooked his-Pan's Pawn Shop. Through the haze and the dirty glass, it was hard to see inside, but he swore that was Jefferson's hat he was making out. The image he carried of it was clear in his head. He'd seen it sitting there in his father's store the first time he'd wandered in. He'd made a note that it still had its magic; it just needed a jump start.

After their last deal, he was forbidden from seeing Jefferson again, the magic simply wouldn't permit it. But that was okay. All he needed was to get that hat to its owner, and Jefferson could do the rest.

But he wouldn't step foot in his father's shop again. Not without being literally dead. Fortunately, he knew how to get his hands on that cap.

As if on cue, the door to the library opened and banged closed. He stayed absolutely still until he heard the voice of the boy that he recognized call out "Hello!" and then "Mr. Rumpelstiltskin, Sir! Dark One?!" like an idiot. How could this boy have gotten out of the Underworld before and still be so ignorant?

"You made good time," he answered from the shadows.

"Yeah, I saw you at the bus stop. I got your message." He held up the small paper card as if he needed a visual aid. "You changed your mind! Why? Not that I'm not glad! I'm glad, I just…why?"

"Business. You've heard how I work."

The boy nodded. "You make deals. Like Hades."

"It's a transaction. That's all deals are. When two people both have something the other wants, then a deal can always be struck," he informed him, strolling among the books, being sure to keep the boy's attention while keeping his mind spinning. "I do something for you, you do something for me. Or, in this case, I do something for you, then you do something for me, then I'll do something else for you, and you'll do something else for me."

"Two transactions? What two things do I have that you could possibly want from me? All I have is my lyre."

"Yes…we'll get to that later," he said, eyeing the instrument. "But for now, you have young legs, a small frame, and an innocent face. This is my proposal: in exchange for helping you broker a new deal with Hades to get you and your beloved out of this place, I need you to steal something for me."

"Done! What's next?!"

His mouth was left hanging open. He'd been prepared to silence any requests for further details but…

"Really? Just like that?"

"Sure. I ah…I used to steal food for Eurydice and me back in the day. If doing it again earns her freedom, then consider it done."

In the old days, he'd have thanked the gods for innocence, but now…now he just stared in wonder at the boy, feeling a new gnaw of guilt at his soul.

"I'm afraid this will be more than a morsel, lad."

"Whatever it is, it's done. Eurydice is worth the world to me. Whatever you want me to steal can't be of equal value to her. Anything you'd like me to steal that's short of the world is a good deal for me. Consider it done."

Well then…may the gods bless the foolish.

"Next…" he prompted. "You said there were two things."

"Yes…" but it took him a moment to remember. He was trying to think if he'd ever made a deal with someone stupider than this. But he could figure that out later when he was sitting down to dinner with Belle and Henry and Bae at his side.

"Next, I'll give you what you need to follow through with your deal, to make it work, unlike the last time. In return, you will deliver what I want you to steal to a certain someone in a distant realm."

He prepared himself for another hardy agreement, but instead, he saw the boy's face begin to shift. His brow furrowed in confusion. "Well…what if I don't make it?"

That he questioned…

"Then you'll be in debt to me. And I assure you my debts are not easily paid. That's called motivation, and in your case, if the stories are true…a little motivation couldn't hurt."

The boy swallowed and then made his way over to one of the dilapidated-looking tables and hopped up on top of it, removing his lyre from his back and wringing his hands.

"How do we start? What do we do?"

He'd take that as an agreement to their bargain.

And so it begins. The next chapter is probably my favorite in this fiction, just because I really get to play with the Orpheus and Eurydice tale. While, again, I highly recommend listening to Hadestown, if you get a chance and want an abridged version, look for the Hadestown Tony Performance on youtube. Honestly, it's not their best performance, but it'll give you a quick taste of the music, a glimpse at the two characters that I drew pretty much directly from that musical, and the "La's" that Orpheus is going to sing here and later are the same in that show. It's not really necessary if you don't want to. It's certainly able to stand on its own without it. But if you have five minutes, it's not a bad idea.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Grace5231973, Jennifer Baratta, and Rsbeall12, for reviewing the previous chapters. I'm so excited to hear how many of you are thrilled that we've got the opportunity to cap Jefferson's story. I hope I'll do it justice! Peace and Happy Reading!