#dark!ouat

            It started when you decided to go for a walk by the river. The yellow leaves crunched underfoot, the sound of the river running over rocks, watching it glisten in the late afternoon sunshine was a welcome reprieve from the rest of your day. Something about walking softly through the woods and finding flowers to make a bouquet filled you with joy that seemed to be missing from the rest of your life. You closed your eyes, letting the sunshine and birdsong wash over you, until you heard the snap of a branch. You whipped your head around, to see a man in dark clothing approach you.

            “I think you dropped this.” The man told you, reaching out with one of your gloves in his hand. He looked eerily familiar, but you couldn’t place him.

            “Thank you.” You took the glove from his outstretched hand. There were rarely other people in the woods, you found yourself drawn to them for that exact reason. Another human was the last thing you expected to find. “Do I know you? You seem familiar.”

            The man chuckled to himself, then shook his head.

            “Not anymore.” He told you, the slightest smile turning up his lips.

            “What do you mean?” You asked him.

            “Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself.” He shook his head. “I’m Jefferson.” He extended his hand again and you shook it, telling him your name. “We used to know each other, a long time ago.”

            You wracked your brain for any kind of context. You were sure you knew his face from somewhere, but it was impossible to pinpoint.  “It’s nice to see you again.” Your words held a question. Jefferson just laughed to himself.

            “Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to remember, that was another life.” The words he spoke confused you. His presence made you uncomfortable, the air seemed charged.

            “I should get back home, I was just taking a walk.” You told the man, suddenly eager to get out of his presence.

            “Let me walk with you.” Jefferson told you, not allowing another option. He took your arm and led you through the woods. A sense of déjà vu washed over you. Somehow, he knew where to find your car without asking. He waited until you unlocked the door before he leaned in.

            “I would be upset with myself if I didn’t ask you to dinner at my place.” He told you, too close for comfort.

            “You’re very kind, Jefferson.” You told him. “I have other plans tonight, I’m sorry.” His face darkened, his eyes flashed.

            “No, you don’t, quit lying to me.” His tone changed abruptly. He wasn’t asking, he was telling.

            “I really do, now I have to go.” You didn’t care that Jefferson was too close to you, or that your car door was open, you just wanted to leave. You turned the key to start the car, but nothing happened. Panic rose in your chest, and you turned the key again, while this strange man watched you with a smug look on his face.

            “My house isn’t far from here,” He gestured behind him, “just a five-minute walk. I can call you a tow truck from there.”

            You took the cell phone out of your pocket only to find there was no service. Nobody you could call or get ahold of, just the eerie man who found you in the woods. You thought about your options for a few minutes, Jefferson looked impatient while you mulled over what you could do. He finally smiled when you got out of your car, locked it and turned to face him.

            “Do you have service?” You asked, praying that his phone may use a different carrier that picked up a signal out here.

            “I don’t have a phone.” He replied, which you thought was weird. Everyone had a cell phone, who would come out in the woods without one?

            Realizing you didn’t have any other options, you followed Jefferson up the road for a few minutes, before walking up a driveway to a beautiful mansion.

            “You live here?” You asked the man.

            “It appears that way, doesn’t it?” He mused while pulling out a key and unlocking the door.

            “I thought this house was empty,” you told him, “I haven’t seen anyone come in or out of it since I’ve been here.”

            “I’m not always around, I get out when I can.” Was the only explanation he offered.

            His house was beautiful, gorgeous floors and expensive wallpaper, odd looking trinkets and teacups made the mansion look less cavernous and more like a home. You let him take your coat and followed him into the kitchen where he began to boil water for tea. You glanced around the kitchen, looking for a phone of some kind.

            “Can I use your phone?” You asked him.

            “Aren’t you going to stay for tea?” Jefferson sat uncomfortably close to you, placing a teacup and saucer in front of you.

            “Thank you.” You took a sip of the tea.

            When it touched your lips, it was like an electric shock surged through your body. It wasn’t like any tea you bought at the store, not like anything you had before. It smelled and tasted like home, but not the home you knew and loved, a different kind of home. Some kind of home you remembered from a dream. It was honeysuckle sweet, though you hadn’t seen him add any sugar. A sense of calm washed over you.

            “Where did you get this?” You put the teacup down on the saucer, forgetting where you were for a minute.

            “I made it.” He replied, surveying your face. You just nodded in silence, taking another drink. You hadn’t realized you finished your tea until Jefferson reached the teapot to refill your cup.

            “I need to call a tow truck.” This gesture snapped you out of whatever trance you were in.

            “Why would you do that? You’re home.” Jefferson cocked his head at you. You didn’t know what to say to that, you realized you shouldn’t have sat down with him, you should have called the tow truck as soon as you arrived.

            “Thank you for the tea, and for showing me your home, but I really need to get back to my car now.” You pushed away from the table and stood, unhappily noting that Jefferson was between you and the door.

            “Nothing is going to happen to your car, you should stay for dinner.” He wasn’t letting you any closer to the door, rather was walking you back towards the kitchen.

            “I really need to get back home, Jefferson.” When you said his name, his eyes changed. A beautiful smile lit up his face.

            “You don’t remember, do you?” He was close enough to touch a strand of your hair and tuck it behind your ear.

            “Remember what?” You could hardly form words. You just wanted to leave. When he heard your reply, Jefferson backed up, a sad look on his face again.

            “Our life.” He said simply, his eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t find.

            “You seem like a really nice person,” you lied, searching for an inch more room, “but I just met you, and I really need to get back home so I can go to work tomorrow.”

            His hands hovered, then he dropped them. He shook his head, then turned his back on you. Watching but not moving, you saw him leave the room, to return with a phone. He dialed a number and put it to his ear. After a minute he gave a description of your car, where it was and his address.

            “They’ll be at your car in about an hour. So, we have some time to kill.” He spread his hands across the counter, staring at you.

            “You said we met before.” You didn’t like how he was looking at you. It looked like he wanted to devour you.

            “A long time ago.” He finally turned away from you, clearing the teacups from the kitchen table.

            “Can you tell me where?” You probed; the feeling of familiarity was too much for your curiosity.             “You wouldn’t believe me if I did.” He looked at you again, surveying you, your body in a way that you didn’t like.

            “Try me.” You countered, holding his gaze. You watched him walk to the living room, weighing his words before he sat down on the couch. He gestured for you to sit beside him. You didn’t sit next to him, but on the chair across the living room table, so that he no longer blocked you from the door.

            “Do you believe in magic?” Jefferson asked you. He seemed so focused on how you would react.

            “I teach science.” You replied, trying not to laugh or otherwise make him mad about his silly question.

            “That didn’t answer my question.” He mused.

            “I believe there are things we can’t understand and can’t explain, but that doesn’t mean they’re magic.” You weren’t sure how to answer his question.

            “Are you sure about that?” The knowing look in his eyes made you think you gave him the wrong answer.

            “If someone wants to believe in magic, I won’t stop them.” You tried to recover from whatever conversational fumble you made.

            Jefferson turned his head and let out a dry laugh. “But you don’t?” He continued to question you.

            “I don’t know, I guess not?” You replied, eyeing the door.

            “What if I told you, you can’t remember who I am, because of a magical curse?” Jefferson’s eyes had a crazy look in them. It was as though he wanted you to say you believed him.

            “I think it’s probably time for me to head back to my car.” You stood up and walked quickly to the door before he could stop you. His face became clouded, his body language became cold. He took your coat from beside the door and helped you put it on.

            “I’ll walk with you.” He insisted on opening the door so you had no choice but to walk beside him.

            The two of you didn’t talk on the short walk back to the car, or when you arrived. It took another ten minutes for the tow truck to arrive, ten minutes that you spent in silence that seemed incredibly loud.

            “One of you called me out here?” A man in a large truck pulled up beside you and Jefferson, leaning out his window.

            “That was me!” You piped up. “My car wont start, can you help?”

            The man nodded and parked his truck in front of your car, then got out to start moving things around so he could pull your car onto the back of the tow truck. The entire time, Jefferson stared at you, you didn’t see him blink even once. Eventually the tow truck driver finished up, and when you were about to hand him some money, Jefferson gave him a credit card.

            “Thanks for coming, I know it’s a long drive.” He told the driver. “Put the whole bill on here, I don’t care how much it costs.”

            “Jefferson, I can’t let you do that.” You told him, but he held up his hand.

            “You can, and you will. I’m just lucky I found you.” His tone didn’t leave room for argument. You weren’t sure what he meant, or what to say, so you thanked him, and went to sit in the tow truck.

            It wasn’t too long a drive; the tow truck driver chattered your ear off and before you knew it you were back in town. You thanked him for the ride and left your car with the mechanic to figure out why it wouldn’t start. Storybrooke was small, so walking home from downtown didn’t take more than ten minutes.

            When you got home, you took off your coat and went to sit down, the weirdness of the day catching up. Your phone had a signal now, so you decided to look up the strange man named Jefferson who found you in the woods. Try as you might, there was no internet record of the man, no social media, no news stories, no birth record, nothing. Although he had been asking you weird questions, he let you in his home, gave you tea and called a tow truck for you. Maybe it really was just someone in Storybrooke you hadn’t met yet. Still, the feeling of knowing that man from somewhere was one you couldn’t shake.

            Later that night you wound down for bed, deciding to make some tea after a relaxing bath. Right next to the tea kettle you set to boil, was a square box of tea you hadn’t remembered purchasing. You shrugged and opened it, pouring boiling water over the tea bag in your cup. When you sat down to drink it, you realized it tasted just like the tea Jefferson had given you earlier. You went back to the counter where you left the box of tea, looking for a label. The box was white, with only a stamp on the bottom, which read “Made in Storybrooke”. If you had gotten it somewhere in town, it made sense that Jefferson would have something similar.

            As you relaxed and drank your tea, stories that seemed like memories took over your thoughts and ran through your head. The longer you stayed awake, the longer your mind raced. When your thoughts got too loud, you decided it was time to go to sleep, and let your brain get the rest it clearly needed.

“I’ve waited a lifetime to be with you. Please don’t make me keep waiting.” You couldn’t take any more of it. Jefferson wanted what he thought was best for you, even though you didn’t agree. All you wanted was him.

“You’re worth more than this, than what I can give you.” The look on his face was so heartbroken, you couldn’t stand it. You did what you knew would work, you pulled him into a kiss that made your heart soar.

“I want you, Jefferson.” You whispered when you broke the kiss and rested your forehead against his. “I don’t care about anything else.”

“You say that now-” you cut him off with another kiss.

“I traveled worlds to find you, to find my happiness. Don’t you dare try to talk me out of what we have.” Your words seemed to work this time, or maybe it was the kiss. The sorrow left his face, and a smile broke across it instead.

“Then let’s get you home.” Jefferson took your hand and walked down the path you knew so well. The flowers you planted stood bright in the window boxes, the garden was alive and beautiful in the yard, but all you could see was him.

Once you made it inside, you nearly jumped on him. He was yours, and you were his, and you weren’t going to let him go.

You woke with a gasp, your dreams felt so real. You looked around your room to make sure you were alone. There was nobody in your room, the house sounded empty. The fact that the man you met in the woods the day before starred in your dreams made you uneasy.

Not only was the strange meeting the day before fresh in your mind, but your lifelike dreams were as well, no matter how hard you tried to ignore them. Even worse, you couldn’t shake the feeling of someone’s eyes on you. Nevertheless, you had to get ready for the day, preparing to see your students, to socialize with your coworkers and shake off the strange dreams that lingered.

            Botany was your forte, but because there weren’t any universities in Storybrooke, you were happy teaching elementary science classes. The wonder and excitement of children discovering how the world around them worked was far more precious than bored university students trying to get through your class with a passing grade. Besides, it was fun to sit with kids and hear about their lives, a few of them would visit you after school and chat. You were used to Henry and Paige coming to visit during lunch break, Paige was enamored by Henry’s stories, and you liked them too, though you were sure to remind him that they were just that, stories.

            That day Henry brought his storybook when he and Paige came to visit you during lunch, the two of them giggling and pouring through the pages. Henry had a hard enough time as it was, you weren’t going to burst the fairy tale bubble he retreated to when he read his book. When the children let out a loud laugh you looked up with a smile. Henry looked happy for once, and Paige… Paige looked like a beautiful child who for some reason you wanted to pull close and hug. When she met your eyes with a smile, you felt a hollow pain shoot through your chest.

            “Are you okay?” Henry asked, when you didn’t respond to whatever question Paige had asked.

            “I... I forgot something.” You didn’t break eye contact with Paige until you shook your head, willing the painful feeling you got when you looked at Paige to go away. “I have a meeting I need to get to. Can you two find your way to recess without me?” You asked, unwilling to look back to Paige. Both children nodded and raced each other through your classroom doors. There was no meeting to get to, you were rather shaken by the feeling you had when Paige approached you. She was just another student, why was it that you felt like she was so important?

            The rest of the day passed in a blur, one class running into the other until the school bell rang. When your classroom emptied, you returned to your desk and held your head in your hands. Clearly the man in the woods yesterday had spooked you, and it was getting to the rest of your life. Since there was no more busy work, you readied yourself to go home, picking up your things and leaving school. When you got to your car you felt like you were being watched, so you turned and surveyed the parking lot. On the far end, you saw the movement that caught your eye. He was too far away to identify for certain, but a feeling in your gut made you think he looked like the man from yesterday, Jefferson. When your eyes landed on him, he got into his car and drove away, leaving you with no explanation.

            “It’s okay Paige, sometimes it takes more than one try.” You told her. Paige’s parents paid you to help tutor her in math. Twice a week you sat at her kitchen table going over worksheets while her parents chattered in the background. Her mother was making dinner, and it smelled delicious.

            “I don’t think I’ll ever get it.” Paige told you tearfully. The look on her face made you feel the same pang of sorrow through your heart you felt earlier that week. The look made you pull her into a hug and for some reason you couldn’t dream of letting her go. When you held her in your arms it was like a missing piece of your heart was filled. It confused you, so you pushed it away, aware that you were not her family, you were her teacher.  

            “Math is hard,” you told her, “I needed a tutor too, did you know that?” Paige dried her eyes and looked at you.

            “You did? But you’re so smart.” She replied, looking like she felt better already.

            “Smart isn’t about doing things perfectly the first time, it’s about practicing until you’re a master. And I promise, you’re going to master this math homework.” You assured her.

When she smiled it seemed like the warmth of the sun lit up the room. After another hour, Paige was so excited that she understood the math homework, she was nearly jumping with joy. You could have sat there all night and watched her play with her dolls now that she was finished with school.

            “Won’t you stay?” Paige’s mother asked you. “I always make enough for you, Paige loves having dinner with you.” She always asked you to stay, and sometimes you did, but not tonight. There was a bittersweet feeling you were steeped in; you couldn’t feel prouder of Paige and the progress she made, the time you spent with her, but you also knew this wasn’t your place, that she had a family that loved her, and you weren’t a part of that.

            “Thank you, but I have to get home tonight.” You told her mother, knowing you had to leave. Because if you didn’t leave then, you might not leave at all. Paige saw you out, saying her goodbyes. You didn’t give her a chance to hug you goodnight, you weren’t sure you wouldn’t pick her up and take her home with you.

            It was dark outside, so when you began to tear up when you got to your car, nobody could see you. Or so you thought.

            “Why?” You choked out to yourself, wondering where these maternal feelings towards Paige were coming from. Why did you suddenly care for her so much now, why was it so hard to see her with her family, to say goodbye? Something wasn’t right.

            “Because you love her.” A voice emerged from the shadows. You knew his voice from your dreams, though you wouldn’t admit it out loud.

            “She’s my student, that’s all.” You didn’t care that you were teary eyed, you just wanted to be alone. Jefferson stepped forward into what little light was left.

            “You know she’s more than that, you can feel it.” He told you, coming closer than you wanted him to. He seemed to like doing that, putting you in uncomfortable proximity to him. He could reach out and touch you if he wanted.

            “Why are you here? Why are you following me?” Your sadness became an anger that you turned to Jefferson, a man who had a funny habit of simply appearing from nowhere.

            “You’re tutoring her,” he said, “two birds, one stone. You’ve made it easier for me, at least twice a week.” His words scared you, pulled at some emotion inside you that you couldn’t place.

            “Are you watching me? Are you watching her?” Your voice rose, edged with hysteria.

            “I’m watching my family.” Jefferson replied coolly. “I’m making sure you’re safe.” His body language changed, he was no longer at ease, he was tense, and his jaw clenched. You didn’t feel safe. This man in the dark was watching you, was watching Paige, and you didn’t know just how long he had been. You backed up, touching the handle of your car door.

            “I don’t know you, and I want you to leave me alone.” You mustered as much courage as you could, panic rising. Instead of leaving, Jefferson moved closer.

            “You know me, and you’re starting to remember. You’re starting to remember everything.” He whispered against your ear. “And when you do, I’m not going to let you go through that alone. When you do, I’ll be with you. And I won’t leave you again.”

            You pushed against his chest as hard as you could, he stumbled backwards a few steps.

            “Leave me alone!” Your voice sounded loud in the quiet of the dark evening. You got into your car as fast as you could and locked the doors. He didn’t approach the car, he just stood there with his arms crossed, brow furrowed and watched you drive away.

            When you got home, you locked the door and checked all your windows, bolting whichever ones weren’t already locked. You pulled every curtain in your home, if Jefferson was going to be watching you, you weren’t going to make it easy on him. You considered calling the cops, but what were you supposed to tell them? That you thought some strange man has been following you, has been watching you? How could you expect them to do anything when you didn’t have any proof? You saw the man twice, and though he affirmed that he was watching you and Paige, could that hold up in court? Your word against someone else’s, while you held no evidence of a crime, didn’t seem to have a very promising outcome.

            It took you hours to relax, eventually you forced yourself into your nighttime routine of taking a bath, drinking tea and reading a book. Even as you drank your tea on the couch, you had a hard time focusing on the book in front of you. The lines on the page seemed to move, you read the same paragraph a few times before giving up. You sat in silence, unable to quiet your mind. You thought of the strangeness of the last week; Jefferson, your dreams, the indescribable feeling of hope and sorrow when you saw Paige. Yet nothing in your life had changed to spark these feelings, no event or unusual occurrence, besides meeting Jefferson in the woods.

            When you looked at the clock, you realized you spent hours on the couch thinking, the time seemed to have passed without you noticing. You still weren’t tired; your mind was loud. Even so, you had school in the morning, so you got pajamas on and ready yourself for a restless night. What little sleep you got was plagued by dreams, but this time they weren’t dreams of Jefferson, they were dreams of the mayor, Regina.

            “Did you really think I would let you have him? After everything I went through? After Daniel?” Regina pushed you down to the cold floor. “Did you really think I would allow you to be happy?”

            “Regina please!” You grasped the wall to stand, Regina’s laughter echoing around you.

            “I am your queen, and you will obey me!” Regina’s eyes lit up; her voice thundered.

            “I had nothing to do with Daniel!” She was picking a fight with someone who hadn’t raised a hand in battle.

            The mirth in her voice peaked when she came close and grabbed your throat.

            “Oh sweet, simple Alice. Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter what you had to do with anything.” She whispered in your ear as you stood shaking. “What matters is that if I cannot have my happiness, you can’t have yours either.”

            Once again you woke with a start, breathing hard as if you ran a marathon. Was it the tea you were drinking that made your dreams so vivid, so real? You’d have to switch back to something that didn’t make you have dreams that woke you screaming. The clock read 2:15 am. The rest of your night was spent tossing and turning, praying for sleep that didn’t come.

            Your dreams confused you, but maybe that’s how all dreams were. The sleeping brain still didn’t make much sense to scientists or to you. You didn’t know Regina well, but she had always been kind and generous, she had helped you get your job at the elementary school. Hell, you voted for her in the last election, she had a great record and Storybrooke was a beautiful town thanks to her leadership. So why was it you had a dream she was hurting you, yelling at you? And why did she call you Alice? You knew analyzing dreams was pseudoscience, and dwelling on it wouldn’t help you get on with your day. You tried hard to busy yourself, focus on teaching and enjoying the company of the kids in your class, but you couldn’t shake your dreams.

            The next night you decided to take a sleeping pill, you couldn’t stand one more night of vivid dreams. It did the trick, you had a deep, dreamless sleep and didn’t wake once until your alarm blared. It was hard to drag yourself from your bed, to face the morning light, but you knew you had to. You felt responsible for the kids in your class, you owed it to them to show up and teach them each week. You weren’t going to let them down because you felt tired.

            “Paige’s mother called, she’s sick so she won’t be in class today.” The office administrator told you when you checked in with them before school started that day.

            A sense of dread overcame you. Was she going to be, okay? What kind of sickness did she have, could you help? The only thing on your mind was how much you wanted Paige to heal, you couldn’t stand the thought of her being sick.

            The day went by as usual, though the worry you held about Paige sat somewhere in your stomach the whole time. It was unusual not to see her or Henry when lunch came around, so you decided to seek him out during recess.

            “Henry!” You called to him across the playground. He happily skipped in your direction.

            “Hi!” He greeted you, smile on his face.

            “I didn’t see you at lunch, is everything okay?” You were concerned; if Paige was unwell there was a chance Henry was under the weather too. The two of them spent a lot of time together.

            “I’m okay, but Paige is sick, so I decided to eat with my other friends today.” Henry explained.

            “Do you know if she’s alright?” You couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth. You knew it wasn’t your place to ask.

            “She’s okay, I think she has a fever. She should be back by Monday, at least I hope so.” Henry was eying the other kids on the monkey bars.

            “I won’t keep you from recess, I’m glad you’re doing okay.” You told Henry, before walking back into the school.

            The second half of the day always passed quickly, and before you knew it the bell was ringing to let the children flood the hallways and leave the school. You too, wanted to leave and go home, do something you enjoyed, but there was paperwork and lesson plans that weren’t going to write themselves. It was dark by the time you were done, but the entire weekend beckoned you now that your Friday work was complete. You pulled out your phone and turned on the flashlight, the low lights in the parking lot weren’t enough for you to see clearly.

            “She wasn’t there, was she?” This time he didn’t hide on the other side of the parking lot; he approached you with confidence.

            “I told you to stay away from me.” You tried not to let your voice betray your emotions. Jefferson didn’t seem to hear you, or he didn’t care.

            “She’s sick, she has a fever. They took her to the doctor today, but she’ll be better than ever soon.” You knew he was talking about Paige.

            “So, you’re stalking her too?” You spit in his direction.  

            “I told you, I’m looking out for my family.” Jefferson couldn’t say anything that made sense to you. “Doesn’t it kill you that you can’t be with her when she needs you?”

            The feelings of dread, of worry, concern came back to you. You hadn’t chased them off, they were waiting for the right words to make an appearance.

            “Come near me again, and I’ll call the police.” You were shaking when Jefferson put his hands on your shoulders.

            “Then why haven’t you?” he asked, a knowing tone in his voice. “I think it’s because you remember.”

            “I don’t remember anything, get off me.” It came out in a whisper, you couldn’t meet Jefferson’s eyes. You were sure he could feel you shaking.

            “I think you’re lying,” he replied, “and I don’t like it when you lie to me.” You closed your eyes when he got even closer, willing yourself the strength to push him away.

            “You’re insane.” Was all you could manage, finally stepping backwards and out of his grasp.

            Jefferson laughed, though you weren’t sure what was funny.

            “You have no idea.” He said with a smile. He slowly walked backwards, never breaking eye contact. Eventually he disappeared in the dark, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

            It was hard to get your keys in the ignition, your hands were shaking too hard. You sat back against the seat, giving yourself a few minutes to regain composure. If Jefferson showed up like that again, you were going to call the police. You didn’t care if you had evidence or not.

            That night your dreams were of Paige. Unfortunately, your dreams starred someone else, someone you didn’t want to cloud your mind, even in sleep. It was as though you were looking at them through a glass, but they couldn’t seem to see you.

            “Can I pour you some tea, Papa?” Paige asked, pretending to pour tea into his cup. She was surrounded by stuffed animals that looked homemade.

            Jefferson mimed drinking the tea Paige pretended to pour.

            “Is your tea good, Papa?” She asked from across the table they sat.

            “It’s delicious, Grace.” Jefferson told her, a wide smile on his face. “It’s always an honor to be invited to join your party.” Paige let out a giggle, and helped her stuffed animals drink their tea.

            “When will Mama be home?” She asked Jefferson. He gave her arm a squeeze.

            “She’ll be back once she has ingredients to make more tea for us.” He told her. His head turned, and he looked straight through you, like you weren’t there.

            “I love you, Papa.” Paige told Jefferson. He looked at her with the most love and affection you had ever seen on someone’s face.

            “I love you too, Grace. Mama will be home soon, and we can have a magical evening together.” He picked her up in a hug and spun in a circle. He put her back down and ruffled her hair.

            Once more, he turned and looked out the window. This time you swore he saw you.

            At least it was Saturday, the vivid dreams and unsettling sleep wouldn’t affect the way you did your job. It was hard to wake up, when you did your thoughts immediately brought Paige to mind, you thought about her as you stumbled through your morning routine.

            The sun was lighting the sky, the small town of Storybrooke looked lovely in the morning glow. You slowly walked down the street, stopping to look at different items at the farmer’s market. You got fresh fruit and some flowers, hoping to make a garland with the vibrant colors to hang on your door. When you reached out towards a stuffed rabbit that you thought Paige would love, your hand brushed someone else’s. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

            “Alice.” Jefferson breathed out, looking at you.

            “My name isn’t Alice.” You withdrew your hand and glared.

            “Of course, my mistake.” The way his head cocked in amusement didn’t sit well with you.

            “You’re following me in broad daylight now? Isn’t that risky, even for you?” You asked him.

            “I’m not following you anywhere, it’s a beautiful day and I wanted to see what was at the market.” He shrugged, not admitting to his schemes.

            “So, it’s a coincidence that we’re both here?” You didn’t believe him.

            “I don’t think so.” He looked at you with amusement. “I think we both thought Grace would love this stuffed rabbit, and we wanted to get her something while she’s sick.”

            “What are you talking about? I don’t know a Grace.” You told him. He ground his teeth, though you weren’t sure what you said to upset him.

            “Paige.” He spit out her name like it was a dirty word.

            “Look, I don’t know who she is to you, but you need to leave her alone.” You felt scared for Paige. This man could do whatever he wanted to anyone else, but you’d be damned if he hurt Paige.

            “She’s to me what she is to you.” Jefferson seemed to speak only in riddles.

            “She’s, my student.” You told him.

            “Do you worry this much when any of your students are sick? Do you go to the market to find your other students toys they love and make sure they get them?” Jefferson questioned. It seemed like he knew the answer.

            “Why are you here? Why is it that you appeared from nowhere one day and now I can’t get rid of you?” You were so tired of him, and he had hardly been in your life for more than a couple weeks. The man’s face darkened, he looked more serious than you had seen him before.

            “Look.” He pulled you by the shoulder to face the clock tower at the center of town. “The clock started moving again, things are changing.” Jefferson searched your face for any sign of recognition, anything that might hint you understood him. But there was nothing.

            “Clocks always move, that’s kind of their thing, they keep time.” You pulled out of his grasp and started to hurry away.

            “Tell me about your dreams then!” Jefferson yelled after you. His words made you stop. You hadn’t told anyone about your dreams, you didn’t even want to think about them yourself, they had simply been too strange to consider.

            “What do you know about my dreams?” You hissed at him. You seemed to say exactly what he wanted to hear. A real smile spread across his face instead of the confident smirk he wore before.

            “I know they’re not dreams.” He replied, all too confident.

            “What?” You wanted him to say something that would make sense, something that would reveal his motive, or give you any idea as to why this man suddenly appeared in your life and wouldn’t leave. He approached you again, this time seeming frantic. When he took your shoulders the look in his eyes was so intense it scared you.

            “The clock is moving again; the curse is weakening and you’re remembering.” Jefferson looked close to tears; the way he said it made him sound so sincere. But dreams were dreams, and this man was crazy.

            “Stay away from me.” You backed away, not turning until Jefferson was lost in the crowd.

            You were still rattled when you got home. You tried to calm your breathing while you put away your groceries, but it wasn’t easy. You realized you forgot to purchase the stuffed rabbit you knew Paige would have loved, but when you remembered the circumstances, you figured you were better off. You’d find something else she liked and not have to deal with Jefferson when you did.

            Still tired, you made some tea and started to weave the flowers you bought through each other until they began to form a wreath. The birds sang through the open windows, the sun lit your face and the tea you were sipping made you warm. Your fingers got slower and slower, your head felt heavier, your eyes began to drift shut.

“She’ll never know, besides you’re doing her a favor.” Regina circled Jefferson like a cat circling a mouse. She knew she won the game before she started playing.

            “She told me not to trust you, that you want to hurt me.” If he sounded just a little more sure of himself, Regina might have backed off, but she heard the tremble in his voice and pounced.

            “You think this is good enough for her? Living in a hovel, your family wasting away in poverty? Your wife was a princess, she had everything she could ever want. Do you think she’s happy like this?” Regina knew how to twist people’s minds with her words.

            “She doesn’t care.” Jefferson insisted, “she said-”

            “She said whatever she wants you to believe, but you aren’t really that stupid, are you?” Words from the Wicked Witch always sounded better than the truth.

            “I’m not leaving them; I made a promise.” He crossed his arms in Regina’s direction.

            “Well, well, it looks like my sister made an honest man out of our dear Mr. Jefferson. How surprising.” Her voice was honey and vinegar.

            Jefferson didn’t want to admit it, but her words planted poison seeds in his mind. He stared at a drawing of you and Grace on the mantle.

            “When you’re ready to provide your wife and daughter the life they deserve, you know where to find me.” Regina brushed past Jefferson, closing the door in his face.

You woke with a scream. You clutched your chest and spilled the now cold tea across the wreath of flowers you were weaving together. What was happening to you? Why couldn’t you get a minute of peaceful sleep, and why did your dreams seem so real? Like they were memories, like you could reach out and touch them?

You stood to find a towel for the tea you spilled, abandoning your flower wreath. The sun was low, the clouds streaked with deep purples and pinks created a masterpiece of the sky through the windows. You found yourself staring through the sight before you while you cleaned up the tea, unable to be present in your reality. Some part of you was still entertaining the dreams that plagued you daily.

Who was he, to you? Why did Jefferson star each night in your dreams, why was Paige wrapped up in them, and why was Regina? Had they been a passing phenomenon it would be easy to ignore, but these dreams didn’t seem to stop. Unless you were heavily medicated with sleeping pills, but that wasn’t sustainable. You decided to pull out photo albums you made years ago. They contained pictures of you when you got to Storybrooke, of the children in your class, of the teachers and staff, and your friends around town. You scoured the pages, searching for anyone that resembled Jefferson, but you found nothing. The man was a ghost.

The rest of your day was wholly unproductive, you weren’t present when you made dinner, you could hardly get through a few pages of your favorite book. You attempted a lesson plan for the following week but the wires in your brain weren’t connecting. Even mindless tasks like laundry were hard to pay attention to. Eventually you gave up, took out the trash and sat on the couch in front of the TV, content to listen to something mindless to get through the rest of the night. The prospect of going to bed scared you so you stayed up until your eyes began to close and the teacup started to slip from your hand. Finally admitting defeat, you dragged yourself into bed and hoped beyond hope to find some peace.

“Regina was here.” It was an accusation from your mouth, not a question.

“She was.” Jefferson was tight lipped. He knew how dangerous your sister was. “She offered me a job.”

            “A job you’re going to turn down, right?” You were scared, Regina never came bearing good news, or good jobs. She hated that you moved away from her grasp, had a husband you loved, a child. She was jealous and had been trying to ruin your happiness since you found it. Jefferson simply sighed.

            “It’s the last job she needs me for.”

            “It’ll always be the last job she needs you for! How many last jobs will she ask you to do?” Your voice rose in hysterics; there was no such thing as one last job with Regina. Not while she wore the crown.

            Jefferson approached you and rubbed your arms, attempting to placate you.

            “I’m not going to take it, I promise.” He assured you with a kiss on your forehead.

            “She wants to hurt you.” You whispered, tears behind your eyes. Your sister would never offer anything without some kind of pitfall.

            “All I want is to keep you and Grace safe, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Jefferson assured you.

            “She won’t keep you safe, Jefferson, she won’t keep any of us safe.” Instead of replying he pulled you closer, resting his chin on your head while he held you tight.

            “I love you, that’s all that matters.” He murmured against you, “I won’t let either of you go, not for anything.”

            You closed your eyes and allowed his soothing words to warm you. Jefferson always kept his word.

When you woke you felt bone cold. Bone cold and exhausted.

“That’s it, I’m done with these dreams.” Glancing at the clock you realized it was almost three in the morning, but you didn’t care. You had a feeling he would be up anyway. If Jefferson wasn’t going to respect your privacy, you didn’t think you owed it to him. You threw on a pair of pants and a tee shirt and found your car keys.

“Hello?!” You pounded on the door for what seemed like the thousandth time. The one time you were trying to talk to him, he wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“Hardly the person I expected to be knocking on my door this late.” Jefferson appeared from the night as he always did. You could never tell where he was coming from or how he managed to sneak up on you every single time. He surveyed you, your messed up hair, your wide eyes and shaken body language. “What are you doing here?” The night air was as cool as his words.

You realized you hadn’t prepared anything to say, you had woken and left your house in such a rush that any words you had thought of once before were now stuck in your throat. For a second you sputtered, opening your mouth before closing it again. Jefferson stepped closer, his nose nearly touched yours, you could feel his body heat in the cold night. You should have been scared, part of you was, but part of you knew he could give you what you needed.

“You’re afraid of me.” Jefferson spoke the obvious, watching how your body shook millimeters away from his own. “Why are you here?”

            “I am afraid of you.” You didn’t care to put on a façade, you were too tired, too scared, too confused. Too haunted by Jefferson’s face to sleep through the night. “But I keep having dreams and I need answers.”

            “You still think they’re dreams.” Jefferson surveyed you while he unlocked the door. You let him wrap his hands around your wrist and pull you into his home.

There was dread when he slid the deadbolt back into place, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You let him guide you through the house and sit you on the couch. You watched him through a fog, but it felt so familiar. Flashes of your dreams came in and out of vision. The vase of flowers on the table were the same as the ones that bloomed in your dreams, the tea pot that had begun to whistle you swore was the one that Jefferson and Paige were playing with a few nights past. What sent a sick feeling into the pit of your stomach was the drawing on his mantle. It was of you and Paige, both sitting together in a rocking chair, smiling wide. The one that had been on the mantle when you dreamt of Jefferson and Regina.

You blinked when he sat in the chair opposite you, looking at you while he sipped steaming tea. It was hard to convince yourself you weren’t dreaming right now. But it was too real, you could hear your breathing, feel the chair beneath you, much as you wanted it was no dream. Jefferson didn’t speak, he just watched you sit in your own discomfort. Deciding to forgo the tea, you finally spoke up.

“Why can’t I stop dreaming about you?” It was the first time you admitted to anyone, even yourself that you couldn’t get him off your mind.

“I don’t think you’re dreaming.” Was all Jefferson had to say, looking smug and happy in his seat.

“No?” You asked him, not surprised that he wouldn’t even give you half an answer.

“No, you’re remembering.” He seemed to like watching your discomfort when he refused to elaborate.

“Can you give me something?!” Your voice rose, you hadn’t realized how close to losing it you were. Weeks of lifelike nightmares that led you to the house of the man that had been stalking you, and you were hardly making the best decisions. You realized you shouldn’t have come here. “What is all of this?” You gestured wildly to the flowers on the table, then to the drawing of you and Paige.

Jefferson sighed, seemingly unsatisfied by your questions. Instead, he stood and pulled you up with him, so that the two of you faced each other. It was as if he were looking through your soul, looking for some piece that you swore didn’t exist. Even though he couldn’t seem to find what he was looking for, he still leaned in closer.

            When he kissed you, something happened. You weren’t sure what, but you felt that something had ripped you out of the dream you were walking through. Like you had been sleepwalking for years and now you were shocked back to life. As cliché as fairytale stories were, it felt like his kiss had woken something inside of you.

            “Jefferson?” You reached up to touch his face, you didn’t understand how you could have forgotten it after all these years. how could you have forgotten your husband? Looking at him through new eyes you felt a sense of relief, of love, of comfort. Then came the pain.

            “Alice.” He smiled against your lips, the recognition in your voice made his eyes prick with tears.

            “You were, I was…” you stood still in shock.

            “You were here, you were under a spell but you’re here.” Jefferson held you close to his chest and stroked your hair.

You couldn’t stop the tears as all the memories that were unlocked flooded back at once. Memories of Jefferson, of your daughter Grace, not Paige, of your home, the life you built together. When you closed your eyes, you could see where you belonged; your cottage, your garden, your living room filled with Grace and Jefferson’s laughter. You could remember swaying with Jefferson in the dining room to music you could hardly hear, chasing each other in the woods, collapsing into fits of laughter once you were caught.

You remember being pregnant, having Grace, knowing that you would do anything, anything in this world or any other to have your beautiful family by your side. You remembered Regina coming to talk to Jefferson, and that you warned him to stay away from her. The last thing you could think of before you opened your eyes in Storybrooke was tucking Grace into her bed with a quilt you sewed for her, telling her to have sweet dreams and that you and her father would wake her in the morning. You didn’t know how long it had been since you put her to bed, but it was far, far longer than the next morning.

At some point you started sobbing, so Jefferson sat you down on the couch and simply held you. He knew how it felt to remember. If he hadn’t seen it coming, felt the curse weakening, he never would have sought you out. He wasn’t going to force you to live with the awful memories of having your daughter ripped away. Jefferson couldn’t live with himself if he was the reason you had to look at Paige every single day and know she wasn’t really Paige, she was your daughter named Grace that you could never have back. But he felt it, he saw you begin to doubt yourself, felt the magic beginning to wane, slip away from Storybrooke through the leak Regina sprung.