STORYBROOKE, Maine

10:47 PM

Jefferson was late. Technically he had arrived at her building only fifteen minutes late – but now? Jefferson sighed, looking down at the old antique watch on his wrist to see that time was ticking away now. He could hear Rebekah moving around in her apartment, even heard her soft humming whenever she'd walk by the door.

But he couldn't move. He was frozen.

He stood in front of the door for so long it started to feel like his feet were glued to the ground. Jefferson stood completely still, replaying what had just happened. He had tried to stay calm all day but the thought of Regina trying to kill Rebekah here, when she wasn't even a threat! It was enough to make him go a little mad. Jefferson had gone to Regina's house, he had choked Regina and then threatened to finish the job if she ever tried to hurt Rebekah again.

Jefferson had found out that Regina and Rumpelstiltskin had worked together while her and Rebekah were in Agrabah – testing a theory Rumple had. A theory that proved to be right in both worlds. It was the reason she was able to pull out of the state she was earlier, her fever completely breaking and the coloring coming back to her skin after her lips had briefly brushed his. It was almost as if there was still a part of his Rebekah in there, his wife, the one who knew that everything could be cured with a magic kiss. That's what she would always tell their daughter.

He knew it wasn't possible, that Rebekah still did not know who he was or what they once were; but why else would she have kissed him in her fever dazed mind? Why did she ask him to stay? Why did she ask him to come back tonight...which he was still working up the courage to just knock on her door. Maybe there was a part, some part of her conscious perhaps, that was trying to get Rebekah to remember. And that's why Regina had told him to stay away for the last twenty-eight years. Maybe it had to do with Emma – he didn't know, what he did know was that if he didn't know on the damn door soon, she'd assume he was not going to show up.

Jefferson wasn't going to show up. His plan was to confront Regina and then go home. Today had been too hard seeing Rebekah and Grace together, neither knowing just how important the other truly meant to them. It made him feel sick, angry, devastated. He wanted nothing more than to have his family back but seeing them together was just too hard.

But he couldn't exactly tell Rebekah that – she'd probably kick him out of her house so fast that there would be a Jefferson size whole in her apartment door. Jefferson had started to walk in the direction of the woods that would lead him to his mansion but stopped when he saw the clock tower. The hands had started moving when Emma Swan decided to stay in Storybrooke, a sign that the curse was not as strong as it once was.

No one else understood the meaning aside from him, Regina, and Rumpelstiltskin – but the hands on the clock tower were moving and time was moving forward for the first time in twenty-eight years. A young woman who had been pregnant the entirety of those twenty-eight years gave birth, Prince Charming, who went by David Nolan in this town, woke up from a coma he had been in since the curse was created. Things were changing. He had looked at the clock tower and decided that he couldn't stand Rebekah up. So, he went to her apartment. And now he couldn't find the courage to knock.

That was until the lights in the apartment turned off and his hand went flying out of his pant pocket and knocked. The light turned back on and the door slowly opened.

Rebekah looked surprised to see him. She had clearly given up hope (if she even had any) that he would end up showing up. She was already dressed for bed in a pair of shorts and a tank top that he could see as she wrapped her purple robe around herself.

The robe wasn't long, it ended at the middle of her thigh, he had seen it earlier that morning, his fingers still remembering the touch of the silk fabric.

He swallowed hard before he began to speak, "Sorry I'm late."

She smiled softly and opened the door more, inviting him into her home. He felt his heart hammering against his chest so hard that there was no way Rebekah couldn't hear the thump, thump, thump. But he walked into the apartment and took in a deep breath once he was inside and he heard the door shut behind him. He was far too tense – it was practically radiating off him. After he had threatened Regina, and when he had saw Grace with Rebekah, finding out that somehow their love was still powerful enough in this world to save her life...it was so much to try and grasp that his body couldn't relax.

"I didn't think you'd show." Rebekah said, and he felt all the tension leave his body. It was her playful tone, it was the way that even though he wasn't facing her, he could still picture a small smile playing on her lip. Jefferson turned to face Rebekah and watched as she pushed her hair behind her ears while looking down at the ground. She lifted her head a bit, peering up through her long dark lashes. He felt his breath catch in his throat from just looking at her.

"I wasn't going to," Jefferson admitted. He didn't want to lie to her – he didn't want to make excuses as to why he was late.

Rebekah surprised him by laughing, "Well," She said with that rasp in her tone that could bring him to his knees, "At least you're honest." She said, walking towards him and away from the door. "What made you change your mind?"

He felt a lump form in his throat when Rebekah was standing right in front of him, she was close enough now that he could smell the scent of her shampoo and bodywash. Jefferson closed his eyes for a moment to think of what to say, and again, he was honest. "-The Clock Tower."

"Ahhh," Rebekah drew out the word, moving around him and headed in the direction of the kitchen. "-Yes, of course. The magical Clock Tower." She grabbed her tea kettle and filled it with water. "Or, that's what Henry would like everyone to believe." Jefferson followed her, watching as she set the kettle on the burner and went to the cupboard where her packets of tea were. He watched carefully as she selected which one to use. Rebekah's fingers skimmed through her selection of tea bags before she finally pulled two out and headed to her refrigerator.

Jefferson walked over to where she had set the tea bags down on the counter and smiled softly at her selection. After Rebekah gave birth to Grace, the new parents would often stay up late while the baby slept. Rebekah would make them a cup of tea over the fire, mixing a particular batch of herbs that made the tea taste like spiced apples.

The tea bag flavor Rebekah had picked was called 'Baked Apple' – which was essentially the tea they drank every single night after that night Rebekah had first made it. He knew that it was the same because Jefferson had a cup every night.

"Mary-Margaret brought this over while I was in the hospital," Rebekah said, setting down a pie on the counter next to the tea bags. "She stress-bakes."

Jefferson didn't know what to say – she had picked their favorite tea to drink at night and hadn't even asked him if he wanted it, it was as if it were still instinct to Rebekah to make that tea for them at night. He didn't call any attention to the type of tea she had chosen to make, or the fact that she hadn't even bothered asking him what he might enjoy – because it might confuse her and as much as he would love to have her remember him, he could see the way her eyes would change and see the confusion and a bit of sadness in her eyes as she tried to figure out how or why she had done what she had.

"It smells delicious," Jefferson said instead, looking down at the pie.

"I can heat it up in the over for a bit if you'd like?"

"You don't have to," Jefferson told her, not wanting her to have to go through all that trouble. But he did prefer warm apple pie. It was one of his favorite desserts.

She unwrapped the pie and moved around Jefferson to preheat her oven, "Well, I'm still gonna." Rebekah said causing him to laugh. She stopped in front of him, suddenly horrified by what she had just said. "-Unless you actually do prefer to eat apple pie cold – I know some people do, I'm sorry – I shouldn't have said I was going to do it anyway. That was rude."

He pressed his hand to her shoulder and watched as her body relaxed. "I do like my pie heated up. I just didn't want you to go through all the trouble. I would have eaten it either way with you."

Her cheeks showed a tint of blush on them from his words and Rebekah looked down at the ground, smiling softly. "Okay." She said in a whisper. "Do you want to sit down?" She asked once she was looking back up at him. Her arm was stretched out in the direction of where a small kitchen was just outside of he kitchen. Jefferson nodded in response and followed her.

There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask; but he knew there was one thing he needed to know. "Are you really going to be working for Gold?" Jefferson asked, trying to hide the worry in his tone, but probably failed at hiding the worry in his eyes.

Rebekah chucked, "Don't worry. I won't be doing anything illegal...at least I don't think I will." Jefferson swallowed hard and Rebekah laughed, "I was kidding, Jefferson."

God, he had missed hearing her say his name.

"I am going to be helping with a...interior design type of project." Rebekah said, shifting a little in her seat. He smiled, watching a she tugged on her robe a little.

"Interior design?" He echoed.

"Kind of, I mean – I'm going to help furnish the place. I'm not going to be renovating it or anything. I've been in the house before; It's beautiful. But it's been abandoned forever and Mr. Gold thought that I might like to help him with...making it a home?" She chuckled, clearly not knowing what her title was exactly.

But Jefferson moved forward a bit, needing to know more. And abandoned house? "Where is it?" He asked. Mr. Gold was always playing games or scheming – and Rebekah didn't even have to answer him, he already knew the answer. Their house. The one from the Enchanted Forest that Regina had brought with them as a little reminded to keep Jefferson away from Rebekah and Grace.

"It's out in the woods, it's actually only ten minutes away from yours on foot." Her cheeks flushed bright and Rebekah quickly moved her hand over them, a bit embarrassed. "Not that I know where you live or the exact time it takes to get there – I mean, I know where you live, obviously."

He knew that he should really be concerned with Rebekah working for Mr. Gold designing their old home – but she was so goddamn cute when she was flustered, and he couldn't help but smile.

"-I'm not stalking you or whatever – I was just in charge of going over the maps of Storybrooke and each house and land that people owned, and, I mean, everyone knew about the hermit that lived in the woods. Oh my God, please stop me." She covered her entire face now.

He laughed, sitting back in his chair a bit. Rebekah rambled when she was nervous. It was one of the first things he fell in love with about her.

Rebekah moved her hands away from her face and Jefferson grinned as her face scrunched up, "I don't know why I'm so nervous. I apologize."

"You don't need to apologize," He said softly while still smiling at Rebekah. "But, for the record, I already was aware that you knew where I lived." Rebekah raised her brow up at him, not understanding. "Ashley." Rebekah had Ashley go to his mansion to hide out from Mr. Gold.

"Oh," She drew out the word.

He found the perfect opportunity to bring up Mr. Gold again, "Which makes me question why you are choosing to work with Mr. Gold...you had Ashley come to me to hide out from him...why would you ever want to work with him?" She quickly looked away from him, avoiding his eye.

Jefferson watched as Rebekah caught the side of her lower lip between her teeth, "I guess it's because...he's the lesser of two evils." She said, looking back at him. "If I take the job with Gold I get the freedom Regina never allowed me to have. My schedule won't be as hectic, and I wouldn't be taken for granted for everything I do." She said, her tone a bit sad. "I don't think there was ever a day that Regina thanked me for all the work I do for her. Not once. She never listened to my suggestions or ideas, she just blew me off in Regina-like-fashion." Her tone was bitter and that made her frown for some reason.

"What is it?" Jefferson asked.

Rebekah sighed, running her fingers through her hair, "I...I guess...today Regina was different. She wasn't awful to me – she acted like an actual mother to Henry! Hell, she even was concerned about the side affects of my pain medication. She told me to stop taking them and that she'd talk with Dr. Whale about finding me something different."

Something different that would help or something different that would actually kill her?

"What if you just didn't take the pills?" He suggested.

Rebekah smiled, lifting her brows at his suggestion, "And be in agonizing pain?"

"Are you in agonizing pain right now?" He asked.

He needed to hear her answer. Jefferson needed to know if she was still feeling the pain in her side even while he was around her. Because if she didn't...

"No, actually." She said, a bit surprised by her own answer. "I actually don't feel any pain."

The kettle went off and Rebekah got up from the table and walked back over to the kitchen.

"Maybe it's the company," He heard her say from the kitchen, followed by a little chuckle. Rebekah returned with their tea and set them both down on the table before going back into the kitchen when the oven beeped letting her know that it was pre-heated. She placed the pie inside the oven and then came back to where Jefferson was sitting. He hadn't moved – not since she had made her little comment.

Maybe it's the company.

"Rebekah, what was your first memory?" He asked. Jefferson knew it wasn't possible that she was remembering – that it wouldn't happen until Emma Swan broke the curse. But the things she said and did had him questioning everything.

Rebekah pursed her lips together and hummed a little, "I guess...when I was five." She told him. "Or, I think I was, but I remember I was walking to Granny's with Regina," Jefferson frowned. These were her Storybrooke memories, "-And there was this white dove that flew out from nowhere, it was insane."

He moved forward, involuntarily scooting his chair closer to Rebekah mentioned the white dove.

"And then there was a bunch of them!" Rebekah told him, "It was like they appeared out of nowhere! I think there had to be at least twenty of them."

White doves had been released at their wedding. He could still remember the way that Rebekah's eyes had lit up when she saw them.

"And Regina saw too?"

Rebekah frowned, "...I'm not sure." She answered. And he watched as the clouds of confusion began to build in her eyes.

"The pie smells delicious," Jefferson quickly changed the subject to avoid seeing the sadness that would come shortly after the confusion. "And the tea, too." He brought the teacup to his lips and took a sip.

"Well, I can't take credit for the pie smelling good. All I did was put it in the oven." She chuckled, taking a sip of her tea as well, "And the tea is one of my favorites. It's like a comfort type of food...or, drink. It just leaves a happy feeling in me and always helps me sleep easily." Jefferson inhaled deeply as he smiled. "What?" Rebekah smiled back at him.

"Nothing," He smiled, looking down at his cup of tea. The timer Rebekah had set went off and she left the table again. She came back with two slices of apple pie and a little shaker of cinnamon.

She set his plate in front of him and sat back down and set down her plate and held onto the cinnamon shaker, "For the pie or for your tea." Rebekah said, catching him staring at the shaker. "I like to sprinkle some cinnamon on Mary-Margaret's apple pies whenever she brings me one. It just makes it a hundred times more delicious."

He watched as she sprinkled some of the cinnamon on her pie before her hand moved forward and offered him some. Jefferson took it and sprinkled some on his, too.

Jefferson took a bite of the pie, cautiously, thinking back on how Regina had once poisoned Snow White with an apple. But this hadn't been made by Regina and magic didn't exist in this world. Drugs did. But Rebekah ate hers so happily, humming a little as she moved her shoulders. He chuckled a little, his mind replaying their meals together when Rebekah was pregnant, and she was so happy to be eating she would do a little 'happy food dance', he had called it.

They ate in silence and when they were both done, Rebekah went to grab his dishes, but he stopped her, telling her that he didn't mind cleaning up after himself. When he looked at the clock, it was 11:30 PM. He had been at her place for almost an hour now.

"Can I ask you a question?" He heard Rebekah say from behind him as he scrubbed his dishes in the sink. Jefferson nodded his head, knowing that she was looking at him. He could feel her eyes on him the entire time. "Why do you..." She trailed off, "This is," He heard her take in a deep breath and turned off the water before he turned to face her. "-It's probably none of my business but I noticed that...you never take your scarf off." He tensed, and she immediately apologized. "Oh, God. I'm so sorry."

He moved forward, not wanting her to feel bad. "It's okay, Rebekah."

Rebekah looked down at the ground, she was embarrassed, he could tell that much, "Just – just forget I asked." She said quickly, pulling her robe around herself tighter. "I'm so sorry."

"Bex," He said her name causing her to quickly look up at him. He smiled and moved to stand in front of her, "It's okay." Jefferson said again, wanting her to really hear him. She sighed and nodded her head, "It's just...a scar that I don't like." It wasn't a lie. "A scar that would cause too much attention, so I wear a scarf so that people...won't stare." So, they won't see.

Rebekah frowned at his words. She moved forward slowly until she was standing in front of him leaving barely any space between them. Her hands moved up and rested just below where the scarf ended. He swallowed hard, standing completely still. Rebekah looked up at him, almost as if she were waiting for him to object, to tell her not to do what she wanted to do. He didn't. So, she looked back down and slowly unwrapped his scarf. Before the last layer was unwrapped, his hands grabbed onto her wrist.

"Rebekah," His voice was hoarse when he said her name, she looked back up at him and Jefferson felt a lump form in his throat, "I don't want you to see it." He finally admitted. Why he had let her get so close was beyond his understanding, but it finally snapped that Rebekah was about to see the scar he got from her mother, Cora, the Red Queen.

Regina had tricked him into going back to Wonderland, said that she'd let Rebekah come home if he helped her just one last time. She had left him in Wonderland and escaped with her father. Cora, the Red Queen, blamed Jefferson for Regina being able to take her father. So, she had his head cut off with a magic axe. Jefferson remembered feeling weightless, his eyes dropping to the floor only to realize that his body was no longer attached to his head. Jefferson had screamed, he thought of his Grace, of Rebekah – of how he had failed both of them.

Cora had his head sewn back on after Jefferson confessed how he had come to Wonderland and Regina's plan. Desperate to leave Wonderland, Cora ordered him to make another one.

He must have tried to make over a thousand hats for Cora, all of those had failed. The only reason Jefferson wasn't still in Wonderland was because Regina had plucked him out just as the curse began so that she could torture him in Storybrooke by having him watch his family live a life without him (and without each other) – his family were strangers. That's what Regina had planned.

But Grace had found her way to Rebekah, she may not know that Rebekah was her mother – but she still loved her somehow. And Jefferson knew it the moment he watched Rebekah's face crumple that night in the hospital after Grace had left her room, that she loved her, too. And that it confused her, which only made her sadder.

The scar from where his head had been sewn back onto his body was a constant reminder of how he had let both of his girls down. And he was terrified that if Rebekah ever saw it...well, he didn't know how she would react. Would she gasp, horrified and tell him to leave? Would she think he was crazy? In Storybrooke, the scar looked like a permeant dark burn from a rope around his neck, the stitches long gone, but he still hated the scar.

Jefferson watched as Rebekah licked at her lower lip before she looked him in the eyes. He felt his chest rising and falling as her hand went to his neck again and pulled off the last layer of scarf that kept his scar hidden from the world. Her eyes left his and looked at his scar. She tilted her head, almost as if she were examining it and he couldn't help but jump a little when her finger gently grazed over the mark, trailing along the long line. And then she moved her finger away from his scar and moved closer to him and moved her arms around his shoulders and stood on her tip toes as she brought her body against his. "I'm sorry," She whispered, her face smothered against his neck as he bent down a little, so she wouldn't have to stand on the tips of her toes. When he felt her lips softly press against his scar his arms tightened around her middle, holding her and not ever wanting to let go. His breathing was shaky when he felt the vibration of Rebekah's words smothered against his neck, "I don't want you to think you ever have to hide yourself from me again."

He didn't let go of her, and she didn't let go of him. She just continued to press soft kisses to his scar and Jefferson tried his hardest not to let out a sob as she did so. Rebekah's fingers were threading through his hair and he had to smother his own face in her shoulder, her robe dampening from his tears.

"I'm so sorry," His voice cut through so raw as he continued to fight against a sob.

"Shhh," She whispered, fingers still running through his hair as she pressed her face into his neck. "It's okay," Rebekah said softly. He was terrified to pull away, terrified of what her face might read when he looked at her, terrified to have her see him in this state where his eyes were red and filled with tears and his breathing was ragged. But she did pull away but before he could even look at her, she had grabbed his hand and led him out of the kitchen.

He followed her, holding onto her hand. Rebekah took him into her bedroom and she climbed into her bed, still holding onto his hand, dragging him along with her. He didn't say no, he knew he should have said no and leave – but he couldn't. So, Jefferson slipped out of his shoes and got into bed with Rebekah and felt every part of him explode when she snuggled against him, hiding her face in his neck and wrapped her arm around his middle.

Is this real?

Is this a dream?

Was this one of Regina's cruel tricks? Was Rebekah really holding onto him right now?

He moved his body a bit to face her more, and then wrapped his arm around her middle and pulled her closer, listening as she sighed in content at the feeling of their bodies pressed together.

"Goodnight, Jefferson." She whispered against his neck, pressing one last soft kiss to her scar before he felt her body completely relax and listened to breathing steadily, her chest moving up and down against him. It made him pull her even closer to him, his cheek pressed against the top of her head, inhaling her scent. When he knew that she was asleep and there was no way she could be awake, he pressed a long kiss to the top of her head and whispered,

Goodnight, Rebekah.

I love you.

He drifted off to sleep shortly after that and it was the best nights sleep he could ever remember having since before the curse – since before Wonderland, the very last night he had spent with Rebekah – that's how long it had been since he had a decent night of sleep. And now he was holding her in his arms again and could feel her warm breath against his neck and everything else faded away.