Emma meets Storybrooke's resident loner, and the search for Mary Margaret is on.

***

The first thing Emma noticed when she walked into the station with Mr. Gold was the boy sitting on the bench in the hallway with his storybook open and in his lap. "Henry?" she asked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Henry grinned up at her. "I came to congratulate you!"

Emma raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

Henry looked at her with a 'duh' look. "Your genius plan."

Mr. Gold tilted his head suspiciously. "And what plan's that, Henry?" Henry opened his mouth to answer, then he shut his mouth and looked down and away from him awkwardly. "Right," Mr. Gold nodded and continued on to the bullpen.

Henry winced sheepishly. "Sorry," he told Emma. "I thought Mr. Gold was in on it now that he's Miss Blanchard's lawyer."

Emma crossed her arms over her chest, and Henry couldn't help but admire the intimidating figure she made. With the moonlight coming in from the windows, the paleness of her skin brought out the royal purple blouse she had on that day, a perfect match to her black slacks and her hair in a crown braid. "In on what?" she asked.

Henry blinked slowly as if she was stupid. "The escape plan."

Dread trickled down Emma's spine. "The what?"

"Sheriff!" Mr. Gold called from the bullpen. "Could you join me, please?" Emma decided that sounded like an excellent job, and she left Henry to gather his belongings as she sprinted down the hall. When she rounded the corner, she found Mr. Gold standing in the middle of the bullpen, his eyes locked on Mary Margaret's cell, the door wide open. "She's gone," he said unnecessarily.

Emma whipped around and narrowed her eyes at Henry as the boy joined her. "Henry, what did you do?" she demanded.

"Nothing!" he protested. "She was gone when I got here!"

Mr. Gold sighed and shook his head, watching Emma desperately search Mary Margaret's cell. "Her arraignment is tomorrow. If she's not there . . . "

"She's a fugitive," Emma finished with a nervous gulp. "Doesn't matter if she's convicted for Kathryn or not. She's screwed." She shook her head and ran to her office. "I have to go find her before someone notices she's missing."

Mr. Gold raised an eyebrow. "You mean Regina."

It wasn't a question, and Emma snorted, sliding her gun into its holster. "The arraignment is at 8:00 A.M. I'm sure she'll be there bright and early to celebrate her victory."

Mr. Gold made a sound of agreement. "Well, you have until 8:00 A.M., then."

Henry squirmed, hands clasped. "What about me?" he asked. "How can I help?"

Emma's sharp green eyes narrowed as she looked at him. "Go home."

Henry swallowed hard, stepping closer and lowering his voice so Mr. Gold wouldn't hear. "Emma, if she leaves Storybrooke – "

Emma shook her head. "Not now, Henry." She placed her hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the door. "Come on." She already knew what would happen if her mother tried to leave Storybrooke. In order to avoid that happening, she would have to enlist her friends and family for help finding her.

Mr. Gold's cane tapped as he walked with them. "Miss Swan, I know that time is of the essence, but if Miss Blanchard doesn't return, her future is in jeopardy," he warned. "And if you're caught helping her, so is yours."

"I don't care," Emma said bluntly. "I'd rather lose my job than my friend."

***

Emma walked into Newt and Queenie's room at the Inn, sighing when she noticed Newt's case open on the floor. She quickly changed from her good clothes into her reserve clothes and carefully climbed into the case, descending the ladder slowly.

When her boots hit the floor of Newt's shack, he could hear Harry, Draco, and Hermione all laughing in the distance. The sound brought a smile to her face, and she walked out of the shack to find Newt on his butt, with Hermione holding her wand out triumphantly, and Harry and Draco giggling behind her, proud smiles on their faces. She crossed her arms and leaned against the enclosed fence near her, closing her eyes as the enchanted case's magic flowed over her. It felt like home.

"Mum!" Harry yelled when he spotted her, running over to her. She placed a hand on his head when he hugged her, taking in his aura of magic that had always surrounded him. She knew he would help calm her spiraling thoughts. He always did. I really need to spend more time with him, she decided. "Are you okay?" Harry asked after a minute.

"Yeah, buddy," she nodded and kissed his head. "Long day at work."

"OK," he said with a smile.

"Emma, guess what!" Hermione giggled, looking pleased as punch with herself.

"What?" she asked with a smothered grin in Newt's direction.

"I was able to knock Newt over with a powerful wind charm!" Hermione beamed proudly.

"You sure did, Mia," Newt nodded, picking himself off the ground and walking to join them. "I'm proud of you." He rubbed the top of her head with a smile, and Hermione swatted his hand away before he messed up her hair. Newt returned his attention to Emma, and his smile faltered at the expression on her face. "How about you guys go practice the Summoning Charm while Emma and I watch?" he suggested.

The three children immediately scrambled to do just that, and Emma gave Newt a grateful smile. "Thanks."

"It's no trouble," Newt assured her, stepping closer and rubbing her back. "What happened?"

Emma sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "She's gone."

Newt glanced sharply at her. "What do you mean?"

"Mary Margaret got out of her cell, and now she's gone," Emma replied, working hard to not let her voice shake. "She's missing, and her arraignment is at 8:00 A.M. sharp in the morning. She's going to be considered a fugitive if she doesn't come back or we don't find her."

Newt rubbed his forehead with a sigh. Yes, that was a problem. "Any luck finding out how she got out of her cell?"

"If I didn't know any better, I would say she used magic," Emma said dryly, making Newt snort. "There's no way she got out without a key, and the only ones to her cell were in my pocket."

Newt hummed in understanding. "You're going after her, aren't you?"

Some of the anger drained from Emma, and her shoulders slumped. "I have to, Newt," she whispered. "She's my mother, even if she doesn't know it."

Newt wrapped an arm around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Want me to help you?"

Emma smiled at his thoughtfulness. "No, I think I can handle it," she said. "If I can't, I'll call you, I promise." Newt nodded in agreement, and Emma stepped away to call to her son and his best friends. "Harry! I have to leave!"

"OK, Mum!" he waved in reply. "Be careful! I love you!"

Emma smiled and blew him a kiss. "I love you, too, kiddo!" Harry grinned and returned to casting with his friends, and Emma squeezed Newt's hand. "I'll be back," she told him.

He nodded and folded his arms as he watched her jog back to the shack and back to the ladder. Merlin, he hoped she'd be safe.

***

Emma squinted through the rain as she drove through the woods towards the town sign, checking for any signs of someone leaving Storybrooke. She glanced down at her dash, and the glowing green numbers of the clock seemed to taunt her: 10:12 P.M. Gods, she only had 10 hours to find Mary Margaret.

When she looked back up at the road, her headlights illuminated the wide-eyed face of a man wrapped in a coat, and she quickly swerved to avoid hitting him. She heard the man's startled yelp, and as she scrambled out of her bug, she heard the telltale thud of him hitting the ground. "Oh, my God!" she gasped, running to help the man as he struggled to stand. "I'm so sorry! Are you OK? I didn't see you!"

The man coughed and nodded, gratefully accepting Emma's assistance. "I - I think so?"

"Are you sure?" she asked, hovering in concern as he slowly straightened.

He nodded again. "I'm fine," he assured her with a laugh. "I'm not used to sharing the road with cars so late." He dusted off his gloved hands and gave her an appraising look. "You're the Sheriff, aren't you?"

Emma nodded with a smile. "Yeah."

"What brings you out here in the middle of the night?" he asked curiously

Emma bit her lip. "Nothing to worry about," she smiled tensely. "I'm just . . . looking for a lost dog."

The man nodded, eyeing her. "Well, I hope you find it."

Emma smiled gratefully. "Thank you." He started to walk away, but Emma caught the limp he tried to hide. "You are hurt!" she realized, hurrying to help him.

He shook his head. "No, I just twisted my ankle, I think," he said, waving off her concern. "I live just a mile down the road. I'll make it OK."

"No," Emma immediately shook her head. "Let me drive you. I insist."

The man appeared hesitant, then he smiled and acquiesced with a nod. "Thank you," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Jefferson."

Emma knew she'd heard that name before, but she couldn't remember where. "Emma," she replied, shaking his hand.

He smiled charmingly and opened the passenger door, and as Emma climbed into the driver's seat, she was glad she had brought her wand with her. Her inner lie detector had been working overtime since getting to Storybrooke, and while she didn't detect a lie from Jefferson, there was something not quite right about the man. She was getting used to the weird auras surrounding the people of Storybrooke, especially given they were cursed, but Jefferson . . . he was different. His aura felt off, different, and she couldn't figure out why.

He gave her directions to his house, which was indeed a little over a mile from the spot she'd found him in, and she gasped when the mansion came into view. She stopped her car, and both got out. "Wow," she stared in awe. "This is your house?!" Jefferson smiled and nodded, and Emma whistled, impressed. A place like this would be perfect for herself, Harry, Newt, and Queenie in Storybrooke. Surely it would also have room to fit the Malfoys, Hermione, and more when they had visitors. "It looks more like a hotel! You must have a big family!"

Jefferson's smile vanished. "Nope," he shook his head and began walking up the steps. "It's just me."

She watched him continue to limp, and she shook her head. "Here, wait," she called. Jefferson stopped on the steps and turned with a raised eyebrow. She quickly shut off her car engine then hurried to Jefferson's side, carefully helping him up the stairs to the front door.

As Jefferson led her past the foyer, Emma gawked at the big house, seeing little art pieces and other paintings scattered all around the house's entryway and living room. He escorted her to the living room, smiling at her when she took in the pristine decor, art, and knickknacks scattered around. "I'll go get some tea," he said.

She nodded absently, leaning against the mantle and marveling at the painting hanging above the crackling fire. She sighed and closed her eyes, taking a moment to settle her racing heart. When she had driven out into the woods, she had been planning on finding her wayward cursed mother, not almost running over a man who seemed incredibly rich and preferred living away from the rest of the townsfolk.

She was snapped out of her thoughts as Jefferson walked back into the living room, a tray in his hands and a roll of paper under his arm. "There we go," he smiled, setting the tray on the coffee table. "Thought you might want to warm up for your search. It's cold out tonight."

"That's kind of you," Emma smiled gratefully as she took the offered teacup, "but I should get back to it."

"I know," Jefferson nodded, unrolling the paper he brought. "That's why I brought this." Curious, Emma sipped her tea and followed Jefferson to the piano. The yellowed paper was actually a detailed map of the woods, making her eyes widen. "I'm a bit of an amateur cartographer," he explained with a proud smile. "Mapping the area is kind of a hobby. Maybe this will help you track down your dog."

Emma peered at the map, her eyes wide. "Wow," she whispered. Jefferson had really detailed everything, hadn't he?

Jefferson smiled at her, pleased by her response. "What's his name?" he asked.

Emma looked up, realizing she hadn't given a name. She blinked rapidly, frowning as she thought. "Spot," she finally answered.

Jefferson chuckled in amusement. "Cute."

Emma nodded and turned back to the map, continuing to blink. Had the details looked that fuzzy a few seconds ago? "Well, Route 6 runs the boundary of the forest, so . . . " She sipped her tea again and leaned her elbows on the piano, catching herself before she fell completely forward. "So if I just follow that I should . . . be able to . . . "

She stuttered, her vision unfocusing and her breathing accelerating. Oh, the map details definitely had not been that blurry earlier. "Something wrong?" Jefferson asked with a tilt of his head.

Emma shook her head to try and clear it, and she instantly regretted the action. When had her brain been replaced by a bowling ball? "I'm just . . . " she slurred, blinking to try and clear the spots from her vision. "Feeling a little . . . " She paused and swayed on her feet. Why couldn't she think straight? Why wouldn't the ringing in her ears stop?

"Oh," Jefferson grabbed her arm gently, pulling her gently towards the couch. "Let me help you."

Emma shook her head, but that only made her dizziness worse. "Dizzy," she mumbled, tripping over her boots.

Jefferson nodded, pulling her to the couch. "Let's just lie you down here." Emma gracelessly sprawled over the cushions, her teacup falling from her limp hand and onto the rug. "There you go," Jefferson nodded. "Let me get you some air."

He walked towards the windows, and Emma blinked. Was it just her head, or . . . "Your limp," she mumbled.

Jefferson paused and glanced down at his feet. "Oh." He chuckled and turned back around, walking without a limp to smile down at Emma. This smile, however, was more of a smirk. "That. I guess you caught me."

Emma swallowed hard, her tongue heavy in her mouth. "Who are you?" she slurred, her head dropping onto the cushions.

The last thing she saw before her eyes slid closed was Jefferson's smirk twisting with . . . was that madness?

***

When Emma's eyes finally obeyed her again, she forced them open and found herself still sprawled on the couch, this time with her hands and ankles tied together and a scarf gagging her mouth. Her teacup was still on the ground, though, and Emma carefully sat up, pausing for a moment to make sure she wouldn't get dizzy. When her head remained clear, she nudged a pillow on top of the cup and stomped as hard as she could. The sound of china breaking was music to her ears, and she hopped onto the ground to grab a shard of china and saw away at the bindings on her wrists. The duct tape easily gave way to the china, and Emma gratefully brought her hands around to tear the duct tape away from her ankles and yanked the scarf out of her mouth.

She rose to her feet and checked herself over, frowning when she found her jacket and gun gone. That meant she didn't have her phone, either. Her wand was still in her boot, though, and she sighed in relief. Funny how the one part of her that had made her wary for many years was now the one thing that brought her comfort.

She hurried to the windows, brushing aside the curtains to search for the latches. She didn't find a single latch, and she shook her head in shock. These were the type of windows she would find in a prison, not a mansion like this. She turned her attention elsewhere, and she paused when she saw the telescope next to the piano. Maybe I can see where I am, she thought, crouching so she could peer through the telescope. She did a double take when she found herself staring right at the sign to the sheriff's station, and when she just nudged the telescope, she looked right into her office. She jerked away from the telescope with a hard swallow. Had Jefferson been watching her? And for how long?

A distant scraping reached her ears, and she slowly turned her head. One of the doors was ever so slightly cracked open, and she carefully walked across the floor, keeping her footsteps light. She placed her hand against the knob and gently pushed, opening the door without a sound just enough to see Jefferson standing in the middle of the room, admiring a pair of scissors as he sharpened the blades on a block.

She had no desire to be on the opposing side of those scissors. She closed the door as quietly as possible and retreated down the hall, almost on her toes. A floorboard creaked under her, and she winced, hearing the scraping stop. She hurriedly opened the first door she found and darted inside the dark room, quickly shutting it behind her. She didn't hear anyone follow her, and she sighed in relief.

"Emma!"

The muffled voice was one she didn't expect, and she whipped around and stared in horror when she found Mary Margaret bound and gagged in a chair just like she had been on the couch. "Oh, my God," she breathed, rushing to her mother. "What is going on?"

She immediately loosened the gag, and Mary Margaret gasped for breath. "Emma," she rasped, tears in her eyes. "Thank God!"

"What are you doing here?" Emma demanded.

"I was in the woods, trying to get away," Mary Margaret answered, swallowing hard. "Then this man appeared out of nowhere and grabbed me. Why are you here?"

"I'm trying to find you!" Emma huffed, ripping away the tape securing Mary Margaret to the chair. She couldn't tell if the brunette's wince was from the tape or the words. "You escaped, remember? How did you get out?"

Mary Margaret stared at Emma in surprise. "There was a key," she answered. "In my cell, under my pillow. Someone put it there."

"Who?" Emma asked, helping Mary Margaret to her feet.

"I don't know," she admitted with a shrug. "I'd like to know just as much as you."

Emma nodded in agreement, carefully opening the door and peering outside. There was no sign of Jefferson, and she beckoned for Mary Margaret to follow her. "Come on."

Mary Margaret gingerly followed her out the door, both women nervously glancing down the hall where Jefferson had been. No sounds came from the room, and Emma relaxed, turning to lead the way out of the mansion.

Her gun's safety disengaging made her freeze, and Jefferson smirked from where he leaned against the wall. "I see you found 'Spot,'" he quipped, casually spinning Emma's gun around before aiming at her.

Emma gritted her teeth, keeping Mary Margaret behind her. "I've already called for backup," she told Jefferson, bluffing through her teeth and hoping her bravado held up. "They'll be here any minute."

Based on the way Jefferson smirked, he knew her play. "You haven't called anybody . . . A, because you don't want anyone to know you're here, and B, because I have your phone." He waved her cell phone at her, and Emma winced. "Which also means nobody knows you're here," he chuckled and gestured with the gun. "So now tie her back up."

Mary Margaret balked, but Emma steeled herself and took her mother by the hand. She squeezed hard and gently guided her back into the room they came out of, ushering her into the chair. She felt Jefferson's iron gaze on her, and she carefully tied Mary Margaret to the chair. "Emma," Mary Margaret whimpered despondently.

"It's gonna be okay," Emma promised.

Mary Maragret weakly nodded, and she opened her mouth so Emma could replace the gag. The blonde gritted her teeth, angry at having to put her mother in such a state, and she turned to glare at Jefferson. "Your telescope," she said tightly. "You've been watching me. Why?"

Jefferson nodded and stepped into the room, reaching out and grabbing Emma's arm. Perhaps she was still feeling some of the drug's effects, because why else did her skin tingle at the contact point? "I need you to do something," he replied, tugging Emma towards the door.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret gasped, struggling against her bindings. "Don't hurt her!"

Jefferson merely shut the door to silence the cries, and he tugged Emma back to the room he had previously occupied. She stumbled when he pushed her inside, and she barely had a moment to glare at him before the contents of the room caught her eye. Specifically, the entirety of the wall nearest her on her right caught her eye . . . and its shelves were covered top to bottom in top hats. Oh, she realized. Jefferson. Top hats. He's the Mad Hatter.

As Jefferson closed the door behind him, she spun around and glared at him. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but if you hurt my friend, I swear I'll make you regret it."

"Hurt her?" Jefferson scoffed, sounding offended. "I'm saving her life."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "How do you figure that?"

Jefferson shook his head, walking towards Emma and making her back up to the table by the wall. "Don't play stupid. We both know what happens when people try to leave Storybrooke."

Externally, Emma frowned in confusion. Internally, her heart skipped a beat. Leaving Storybrooke . . . did that mean . . . ? "What are you talking about?"

Jefferson clenched his jaw. "The curse."

Emma inhaled sharply. "You remember?" she asked incredulously, curiosity flowing through her words. "How? I thought everyone in Storybrooke lost their memories when the Queen's curse really hit and everyone was placed here."

Jefferson stared at her, mouth gaping for a minute as he absorbed her words. "You know?" he whispered, his voice skeptical.

Emma closed her eyes and gathered her bearings. "My son, Henry, came and got me from New York, where my adoptive son, my adoptive brother and sister and I all live on a magical creature reserve," she explained. "I've known about magic since I was 23 years old. My son, Harry, he's a wizard, and I am what his people call a Muggleborn: a witch born to parents without magic. Henry found us, saying that his town was under a curse. I didn't believe him at first, especially not this kind of curse, but when I needed proof, it came to me. He showed me my mother in his book, and my sister helped me get my father's memories back. The story he told me coupled with the information I got when I adopted Harry . . . the curse is real, I know it. I have magic, but . . . " She trailed off with a hard swallow, unable to say the words that would finish the sentence. She didn't know what steps to take to break the curse.

"You know," Jefferson repeated, and Emma fidgeted at the awe in his tone. Abruptly, his expression shifted to one of suspicion, and he scoffed and backed away from her. "I don't believe you."

Emma eyed him as he walked around the room, and she reached down into her boot and pulled out her wand. Jefferson sniffed when he saw it and turned away dismissively, making Emma bite her lip and smother a laugh. Apparently, he had no clue he had left her with something that had the potential to be far more dangerous than her gun. "Why have you been spying on me?" she asked.

Jefferson growled under his breath and gestured with the gun towards the windows. "Because for the last twenty-seven years, I've been stuck in this house, day after day, always the same," he replied. "Until one night, you and your boy, in your little yellow Bug, roll into town. The clock ticks, and things start to change. You see, Emma . . . you're special. You brought something precious to Storybrooke: magic."

"I know I'm special," Emma nodded, tightening her grip on her wand. "I know I'm the only one who can break the curse." She glanced around the room. "Whatever you brought me here for, I'll do what I can. Just tell me what you want."

Jefferson put a hand on her shoulder (seriously, what was with her skin tingling at the contact point?) and forced her into the chair at the table. "I want you to get it to work."

Emma grimaced and adjusted her position in the chair. "You want me to get what to work?" Jefferson leaned over her shoulder and inclined his head to the top hat resting on the table, and Emma blinked, remembering the Mad Hatter's story. "How do I get a hat to work?" she asked in confusion. Didn't it only work for the Hatter?

Jefferson sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. The thought crossed Emma's mind that if he hadn't kidnapped her, he'd certainly be handsome. Thankfully, his next words snapped her out of that line of thought. "You're the only one that can do this," he told her, his voice tinged with desperation. "You need to get it to work." He pointed to the hat again. "Make one like that."

"You want me to make a hat?" Emma asked in surprise, turning to gesture to the wall behind her. "You don't have enough?"

"Well, none of them work, do they?" Jefferson snapped. "Or else, you wouldn't be here." He sat down in the chair near her, his eyes locked on her. "Now, make a hat and get it to work. Pull your magic and thread it into it. That's how it'll work."

Emma timidly picked up a spool of thread and stared at it. "I don't know how to do that with my magic," she told him.

"If you know how to use your magic, you can do it," Jefferson said firmly. "I know you will, because you and your friend are not leaving here until you make my hat. Until you get it to work."

"And then what?" Emma asked, taking in the amount of tools on the table.

Jefferson smiled at her again, this time raising his head just enough to gesture to his neck. The wicked red scar across his throat was visible in the light, and Emma swallowed hard. Any other man would have been cleanly decapitated by such a cut. "Then I go home. If you can't get this to work, I'm never going home. I'll be cursed to live in this house forever."

Emma pursed her lips then sighed and grabbed the scissors and a piece of fabric. "What is so cursed about your life?" she asked, gesturing with the scissors to include the mansion. "Look at this place. It's beautiful. It doesn't seem cursed to me."

Jefferson ran a hand through his already mussed hair. "It's cursed because, like everyone else here, what I love has been ripped from me." Emma frowned, rapidly trying to remember the Hatter's story, then Jefferson tapped the telescope next to him that pointed out the window. "Take a look."

Emma stood and walked to the telescope, peering through the lens. This telescope was aimed at a house, and sitting at the table was a beautiful little girl with an even more beautiful smile. Now that she thought about it, she looked just like Jefferson. "She's beautiful," she told him, and Jefferson gave her a genuine smile. "Who is she?"

"Her name is Grace," he answered. "Here, it's Paige. But it's Grace. My Grace. Do you have any idea what it's like to watch her day in and day out, happy, with a new family? With a new father?"

As if struck with a lightning bolt, the details of the Hatter's story came flooding back, and Emma gasped. "She's your daughter?"

Jefferson nodded. "She has no idea who I am. Our life together, where we come from. I do. That's my curse."

Emma swallowed hard. "To remember," she whispered brokenly. She would hate, more than anything in the world, to see her son with a different family. Even when she had barely known Harry, her heart had hurt at the very thought of him leaving her care. Even now, she had to watch her own father love her mother, his memories fully intact while hers were locked away.

Jefferson gestured around with a bitter chuckle. "What good is this house, these things, if I can't share them with her?"

"Why don't you reach out to her? Why don't you tell her?"

Jefferson scoffed. "And destroy her reality?"

He opened his mouth to continue, but shimmering silver-blue light through the windows made both of them turn. Emma's eyes brightened when a bright niffler created from silver smoke and light bounded through the window, across the wall, and scurried through the air to her. She giggled and held out her hand, and the mirror image of Newt's loyal creatures playfully sniffed her palm and rubbed against her. She looked up at Jefferson, who was staring at her with his mouth open. She giggled again at the stupefied look on his face, and she held out her other arm, letting the niffler snuggle in the crook of her elbow. "I'm here, Newt," she said.

That was the cue the Patronus needed, and as the niffler opened its beak, Newt's baritone voice came through, making Jefferson stumble backwards in shock. "Emma, it's been 5 hours since you left to find Mary Margaret," her brother told her, worry coating his tone. "We're worried. You haven't answered our calls, and Harry is getting scared. Please let us know you're OK, either a magical or a Muggle way. Otherwise, I'm tracking you down myself."

The niffler closed its beak, and Emma scratched its head. "I'll contact him right away," she promised.

The Patronus chittered and nuzzled her cheek before dissipating into smoke. Jefferson stared as wisps of silver smoke drifted past him, and he looked at Emma in nothing short of awe. "What was that?" he breathed.

"That was a Patronus. It's a form of my magic that I am able to do with my wand." She held up her wand and twirled it, a shower of white sparks pouring from the tip. "This is more dangerous than it looks."

Jefferson exhaled shakily, looking at her in wonder. "You really do believe in magic, don't you?"

"I do," Emma nodded, tucking her wand into her pocket. "Harry has it, Newt and Queenie have it, and so do the Malfoys, Hermione, and Remus. My father, Henry, Ruby, and Victor know, but that's it. It's a secret from everyone else since it's a law in our world you can't know. But, well . . . " She shrugged and gestured helplessly. "Obviously, it's hard to find the town. The Malfoys and Hermione are only here because Remus was able to find us."

"Your father," Jefferson repeated. "I've seen him through my telescope, but I'm not able to hear what you talk about. David Nolan . . . Prince James remembers?" Emma nodded, and Jefferson's eyes brightened. "You'd be able to help me get my daughter back?" he asked eagerly, hope glinting in his eyes.

Emma nodded, and she watched Jefferson let out his breath in a rush and collapse in his chair, a stunned look on his face. "It'll be easy once the curse is broken, but until I do, you can't go around kidnapping people, okay?"

He nodded determinedly. "Anything to get my daughter back," he agreed.

"You will," Emma promised, holding out her hand.

Jefferson immediately shook it, and Emma winced, feeling like she had just gotten an electric shock. Jefferson narrowed his eyes, staring at their clasped hands, then he quickly let her go and cleared his throat. "Let's get you and your 'friend' home now," he said.

Emma cleared her throat and nodded in agreement, taking back her gun when he held it out to her. "Just a minute." Jefferson sighed but nodded, and Emma pulled out her wand, closing her eyes and focusing on the memory of Harry's face after the judge announced his adoption. "Expecto Patronum," she whispered.

Silvery-blue magic billowed from her wand, and Jefferson's eyes widened as the smoke and light twisted and twirled into the shape of a majestic horse with its wings beating the air. The mirror image of her beloved familiar cantered through the air and circled Jefferson, who reached up in wonder. His fingers just brushed his muzzle, and he inhaled sharply, staring at his hand in awe. "It feels real," he whispered.

"Wait until the day you meet his real counterpart," Emma smiled proudly, extending her hand. The pegasus stallion trotted to her, nuzzling into her hand. "Newt, I'm OK," she said, giving her Patronus the message she wanted to send. "I found her, and we're on our way back to the station." She patted her Patronus on the head, and the pegasus leapt into the air and galloped through the window. She watched in amusement as Jefferson stared until her Patronus was out of sight, then he rapidly shook his head and held open the door for her as she tucked her wand into her boot. "Impressive, huh?" she asked with a smug grin.

Jefferson just nodded, and as she stepped out the door, he handed back her jacket. "Good luck, Emma," he told her.

"I'll update you on Grace," she told him. He smiled and nodded, and Emma hurried down the corridor. She heard the door shut behind her, and she entered into the room where Mary Margaret was tied up, quickly making work of untying her and releasing her gag. "Come on, let's go," she said, grabbing Mary Margaret's hand. "He's distracted enough for us to get out of here."

Thankfully, Mary Margaret just nodded and didn't ask questions, and Emma, knowing Jefferson wasn't pursuing them, led her out of the door quietly and down the stairs, hoping her keys were still in her jacket.

Sure enough, as she searched her pockets and approached where Jefferson had parked her Bug, she found them securely zipped inside her jacket. She held them up triumphantly to show Mary Margaret, but the woman merely looked sad. "So, Sheriff," she said stiffly, her hands in her pockets. "I guess you'll be taking me back now."

Emma paused for a second then steeled herself. "Here," she said, tossing her keys to Mary Margaret. "Go."

Mary Margaret fumbled to catch the keys and stared at Emma in shock. "You want me to run?"

"No," Emma shook her head, "but it's your choice. Just know something: running ain't easy. I've done my share of it, and once you go, there's no stopping."

Mary Margaret sighed, staring at the keys. "Emma, everyone thinks I killed Kathryn."

"Mary Margaret, you have to believe me," Emma insisted, taking the woman's hands. "You have to trust me. I know it seems impossible, but I can get you out of this."

Mary Margaret stared at her like she was a puzzle she was trying to piece together. "Why is it so important to you what happens to me?"

Emma swallowed hard and looked down at the ground. "Because when Regina framed me, and you came to bail me out after barely knowing me, I asked you why and you said you trusted me," she answered. "When I contemplated leaving Storybrooke, you told me I needed to stay because that was best for him. You need to understand . . . almost all my life, I have been alone, walls up. Nobody had ever been there for me. Now I've got my family . . . and the first person I had in this town was you. I can't lose that. I cannot lose my family."

Mary Margaret swallowed hard, tears in her eyes. "Family?" she asked, sounding touched.

Emma laughed it off. "Friends. Whatever. You know what I mean. Wouldn't you rather face this together than alone?" Mary Margaret smiled and nodded, handing back the keys. Emma closed her hand on Mary Margaret's reassuringly, then the tolling of a familiar clock made them turn towards the town. "The arraignment," Emma realized, checking the time on her phone to see how long they had remaining. "Regina."

***

The brakes of the Bug squealed as Emma hastily parked behind the building, and she and Mary Margaret practically flew out of the car and into the station. As they ran towards the bullpen, Emma barely heard footsteps over her own boots before a black and green blur barreled into her, almost knocking her over. She likely would have landed flat on her back had Mary Margaret not hastily supported her. "Mum!" Harry cried, clinging onto her waist.

"Hey, buddy," Emma smiled, hugging Harry close to her and silently thanking Mary Margaret for keeping her upright. "I'm OK. I'm not hurt."

Harry just buried his nose into her jacket, and Mary Margaret silently stepped to the side. Emma realized why a moment later when Newt rounded the corner, marched right up to her, and hauled her into his arms for a hug, tugging Harry in with the motion. Emma gratefully sank into her brother's comfort, and she felt Newt rest his chin on top of her head. "We were worried about you, Em," he told her, and Harry nodded in agreement. "What happened?"

Emma glanced at Mary Margaret out of the corner of her eye and subtly shook her head. "I'll explain later," she said.

Harry whimpered into her chest, the sound muffled as he attempted to burrow deeper into her hug. "You were gone all night," he whispered.

Emma gently pulled away from Newt to crouch in front of her son, raising her hands to gently cradle his face in them. "I'm OK, buddy," she reassured him.

Harry sniffled, and she hugged him close once more. He refused to let her go even as Queenie rounded the corner. Her red-rimmed eyes were the only visible sign of her worry. "I'm glad you're alright, hon," she said with a smile.

Emma chuckled and accepted Queenie's quick hug. "Thanks, Queenie."

Queenie patted her shoulder then turned to Mary Margaret. "Mr. Gold is here, waiting for you," she said. "It's almost 8:00."

Mary Margaret nodded in understanding and quickly hurried to join her lawyer in the bullpen. Emma tucked Harry to her side and followed, digging through her jacket to find the keys to the cell. "So," she said, drawing out the word when she saw the brief flash of surprise in Mr. Gold's eyes, "Regina is going to absolutely hate this, isn't she?"

Newt snickered. "I'll let you take pictures from a Pensieve memory."

Emma grinned. "That's why you're my favorite brother."

***

When Regina pulled into the station parking lot and discovered the sheriff's parking space empty, she grinned smugly and sauntered into the building. When she walked into the bullpen, however, she stopped in her tracks, shock covering her face.

Mary Margaret sat on her bed against the wall of the cell, reading the newspaper as if she was in Granny's diner and not locked in the sheriff's station for murder. She glanced at Regina when her presence registered, and she coolly inclined her head. "Madame Mayor," she greeted, taking a loud bite of the croissant Queenie had provided.

The crunch made Regina flinch, and the woman's jaw clenched. "Good morning," she replied tightly.

Mr. Gold cleared his throat intentionally, stepping away from the desk he leaned against to join Regina. "Excuse me, but my client is not having any visitors."

Regina gritted her teeth, and all she could do was nod in agreement. "Of course not."

Mr. Gold gestured towards the hallway. "I'll see you out."

Regina stormed down the hall, waiting until Mr. Gold followed her at a more leisurely pace to whirl around and demand, "What is she doing here?!"

Mr. Gold shrugged. "She came back," he answered simply.

"You said this was going to work!" Regina fumed. "That she'd take the key, that she'd go!"

"And she did," Mr. Gold nodded. "But it seems that Miss Swan is rather . . . more resourceful than we thought." Regina snarled, and Mr. Gold chuckled in amusement. "Fear not, Your Majesty. Miss Blanchard is still guilty of murder. You may yet get what you want."

"Oh, I better," Regina sneered, jabbing a gloved finger into Mr. Gold's chest. "The only reason I made a deal with you, Gold, is because I wanted results."

"And results you shall have," Mr. Gold promised, an intelligent glint in his eye. "See you at the arraignment."

Regina nodded sharply and walked out of the sheriff's station. Mr. Gold watched her go before sweeping his gaze over the hallway. After a moment, he turned and returned to the bullpen, walking over to Mary Margaret and speaking quietly to her.

After several seconds passed, the cracked-open door to the interrogation room opened, and Newt appeared out of thin air as he stepped out of the door. He tucked Harry's Invisibility Cloak under his coat and walked through the bullpen as if he had just entered the station, a cardboard tray of coffees in his hand. Mr. Gold glanced at him suspiciously but said nothing as he turned to speaking with Mary Margaret. Newt continued into Emma's office, toeing the door shut behind him. Emma looked up expectantly, and Newt nodded. "She confirmed it," he said, handing Emma one of the coffees. "She's the one who killed Kathryn, and it sounds like Mr. Gold helped her."

Emma scowled. "Now all we have to do is prove it."

***

Students were still arriving for school when Emma arrived on campus, and she found Henry sitting at one of the picnic benches. "Henry," she called, and he looked up hopefully. "I found Mary Margaret."

Henry smiled in relief. "How is she?"

"She's OK," Emma replied. "Other than being on trial for murder, she's fine."

Henry sighed in relief, then a silvery voice called his name. "Hi Henry!"

Henry waved in return to the girl with strawberry blonde hair, and Emma swallowed hard, seeing the same girl who had been in Jefferson's telescope. "Who is that?" she asked.

"Her name is Paige," Henry answered as the girl ran after her friends. "She goes to school with me."

Emma's eyes tracked Paige as she climbed the steps to the school. "Henry, do you have your storybook with you?" Henry nodded. "Can I see it?"

Henry nodded, grabbing it from his backpack. "Yeah, why?"

Emma bit her lip, glancing towards the treeline. Was it possible that, right at this very moment, Jefferson was watching through one of his telescopes? "I'm just curious about something."

Henry shrugged and handed her the book, and Emma opened it, flipping through a few pages until she found what she was looking for: Jefferson's face staring back at her, followed by a picture of him taking a hat out of a box. She flipped the page again, and her heart clenched when she found a beautifully illustrated picture of Jefferson and a girl in the woods . . . a girl with strawberry blonde hair, his daughter named Grace but who Henry just identified as Paige. With a few more flips, she found another image of Jefferson, a crazed, mad look on his face, an angry red scar completely circling his neck as he used scissors and thread to create hat after hat after hat.

She must have been staring for too long, for Henry frowned in confusion and looked from the pages to her. "What?" he asked. "What is it?"

Emma shook her head. "Nothing," she lied, her fingers absently tracing Jefferson's image. "I think."

You'll get your daughter back, Jefferson, she silently reinforced her promise. No parent should ever have to lose their child.

***

I wrote this in only a few hours. . .can you tell I was excited for this chapter?

Jefferson, and the Mad Hatter in general, has been a favorite of mine since I first read 'Alice in Wonderland' as a child, and ever since, the Hatter has always been my favorite. He's crazy, paranoid, a lunatic, and funny. He's been a comfort character for a long time, and I cannot explain why. He just reminds me of. . .something.

I can't wait to incorporate him more into this series, and just you wait, if you've looked at AO3, well then. . .you know why he'll play such a big part.

"The Stable Boy" is next, and then, we'll be almost done with this season!

As always, stay sane, stay safe, and stay cool xx <3

***

Well, it was a ton of fun to track Miss Singer's progress as she wrote this monster of a chapter in a few hours! She did amazing work rewriting this episode with the changes we've made thus far, and I think it's one of the best so far. This was one of my favorite episodes of the season, too, so I'm definitely pleased with how it ended up.

Only five more episodes to go, guys! "The Stable Boy" is next, then we're off to the finish!