There were days where Jefferson sat all day in his work room, making hats and staring out his telescope, watching his daughter from afar.

Then there were days where he couldn't leave his bed. This was one of those days.

The clock read 5:30 PM, but Jefferson simply rolled over and ignored it, silently begging his brain to let him fall asleep. He had sleeping pills somewhere in his writing desk and nighttime cold medicine in his bathroom, but those all involved getting up. Besides, they only exhausted his body, keeping his mind buzzing and even more furious than he was before.

Why can't things just happen? He wondered, not for the first time.

The doorbell rang. Jefferson rolled onto his back and frowned. No one knew he was here. He wasn't even sure Regina knew he was here, though the fact that he was so close to his daughter (yet so out of reach) probably meant that the bitch knew exactly what she was doing to him…and if it was Regina at the door, he certainly didn't want to answer it.

The bell rang again, and Jefferson sat up, still not moving. What if it wasn't Regina? What if someone was just wandering around the woods and stumbled upon his home?

Well, so what? He thought, They'll just have to turn around and go back to town.

Then there was a knock. A loud one. One that commanded attention. Jefferson lay back down. Then he heard the door break open.

Scrambling around a sheet that got tangled on his ankle, Jefferson bolted down the stairs towards the door, only skidding to a halt when he saw who was standing there.

"You."

Rumpelstiltskin…or at least, the man who was Rumpelstiltskin, stood there examining the splinters around the lock on his door, "It appears this needs fixing."

He doesn't remember who he is, Jefferson reminded himself, before clearing his throat, "I'm afraid you're going to have to leave, or I'll call the authorities."

"And what will they find? A madman living alone in the woods? In a mansion, no less. How lonely you must be, Hatter."

The cloud that had been weighing down on his shoulders lifted ever so slightly, "…Rumpelstiltskin?"

"Well of course, dearie," he shut the door with a nudge from his cane, "though I can't say I've heard anyone use that name in 20 years or so."

"You know who you are?"

"Yes, I believe we established that already."

"Who else remembers?"

"Myself, her majesty…and you, apparently. I must confess, I'd have come earlier if I'd known you were…here."

"She trapped me in Wonderland," Jefferson felt the weight descend on him once more.

"I know," he leaned on his cane, "to be perfectly honest, I thought you were dead."

"I have to get the hat to work. I need to get it to work."

"Jefferson."

Jefferson felt a bit of shame creep up his throat, making his tongue tingle unpleasantly. The imp—or what was once the imp—had never seen him like this. Oh, Rumpelstiltskin had certainly seen him at his poorest, and even at his angriest, but never…well, no one had ever seen what he'd become.

"You shouldn't be here. I should get back to work. I wasted the whole day away."

"Your work is why I am here."

"Again? I tell you nothing for ages, you haven't seen me for over 20 years, you break into my home, and all to ask me where I got the hat?"

"You didn't answer the door on your own."

Jefferson didn't even hear his own yell until he'd already charged at him. Rumpelstiltskin fell easily, what with his bad leg, and Jefferson managed to wrap his hands around the smaller man's throat.

"You have no idea what's happened to me!" he growled out, while Rumpelstiltskin grasped at Jefferson's shirt, pulling the collar down. It pinched the back of his neck slightly, but Jefferson barely noticed.

"Off with your head," Rumpelstiltskin rasped out, fingers barely scratching at the scar wrapped around the hatter's throat. Jefferson let him go with a gasp, and Rumpelstiltskin winced as his head made abrupt contact with the floor.

"I don't even have the hat anymore," he said, running his hands through his hair, "I don't….she took it. Somewhere. I need to make a new one."

"You do not have the magic to do that," Rumpelstiltskin said, still lying flat on his back.

"Do you?"

"If I did, I wouldn't come to you asking about the hat in the first place."

"Have you…"

"Have I…?"

"Ever read your story?"

Rumpelstiltskin blinked in confusion, "You're sitting on top of me and asking me if I've read this world's version of Rumpelstiltskin?"

"I'm the Mad Hatter," Jefferson said with a shrug. Then he started laughing. He buried his face in his hands and began to laugh so hard it physically hurt.

"Yes. Yes you are."

He rolled off Rumpelstiltskin and lay on his side, tears streaming down his face.

"They call me Mister Gold in this world," Rumpelstiltskin said with a small smirk.

"Of…of course they do," he wheezed, rolling to lie on his back as he wiped his face.

"And your daughter is called Paige."

"…Paige. Have you spoken to her?"

"Her…parents…have come into my shop with her. She's very curious. Always tries to touch everything."

"And…does she know that her real father is out there? That I didn't…"

"…Abandon her?"

"She has no idea who I am, does she?"

"No one knows you're out here."

"I can't leave this house. I always return, and…"

"You really have gone mad, Hatter," Rumpelstiltskin said, wincing at the awkward angle his bad leg was in.

"Don't call me that."

"Do you remember when I first came to visit you? You're wife had accepted your marriage proposal. You worked for the king. You wore your hat everywhere, flaunting your power to anyone who'd so much as glance your way."

"Shut up," Jefferson snapped. He remembered, of course. His wife- to-be was going to her family to tell them the news, and he had to report to the king, who needed to visit that madman from Oz. He couldn't get there by himself, after all, and Jefferson was such a good guide. He was almost halfway there when he lost control of his horse and was forced into an alleyway where the imp was waiting. That was the first time Rumpelstiltskin tried to get information out of him. He refused.

He'd been so arrogant and foolish back then, and ever since, things had only gone downhill for him. Sometimes he wondered if he should have accepted Rumpelstiltskin's offer. Maybe things would have turned out differently.

"If I tell you where you got the hat…can you send my Grace and I home?"

"It's not that simple. I can't send anyone home."

"But you're…you're you."

"My powers are limited in this world, dearie. The only person who can break it is the one who casted it, and I highly doubt her majesty has any plans to reverse what she's done. Not when she has everyone so neatly under her thumb."

"Even you?"

"She doesn't know I remember. I do what I can."

"I won't give up my information for nothing, Rumpelstiltskin."

Rumpelstiltskin sighed, "I expected as much."

"Then why did you come?"

"My little madman. I'd hoped you'd see reason. Assist me, and you can only benefit."

"You have nothing to offer me. Nothing. This isn't even a deal, this is just you asking."

"But I'm asking you nicely," Rumpelstiltskin smirked, "and I've brought you a gift."

"Oh really? What gift?"

"The knowledge that you're not alone. That there are others who remember…and that in a few years, the true plan to release us from this prison will be underway."

"So you are scheming."

"I'm always scheming, Hatter," he grinned.

"I've been alone for a very long time, Rumpelstiltskin. I can live with that."

"But would you want to? Remember those last few visits, Hatter? You turned down every offer, even as your world crumbled around you? What was it you told me?"

"There's nothing you can offer me that I can't get with a little more time and effort."

"And how did that work out for you?"

Jefferson scrambled, crab walking away before rising to his feet to glare down at the man, "And you, Rumpelstiltskin? You're a cripple now. You were once powerful, and even then you were rather pathetic. I'm alone? I know there's someone out there, and that we'll be reunited one day. What do you have? What have you ever had besides yourself?"

Rumpelstiltskin rose clumsily, using his cane to balance himself, "You're making a mistake, Hatter."

"Come back when you have something to offer me, imp. Then we'll talk. Now if you'll excuse me, I have hats to make."

Rumpelstiltskin nodded slowly, turning to leave.

"Oh, Hatter?"

"What?"

"...your lock. You should fix it."