i. wandering in a daze [ He'd been hit by a car. That's what the nurse says, at least, when Jefferson comes to in a hospital bed. Her tone's more than a little scolding as she explains that jaywalking had been involved, and that he's lucky his injuries were so minor... Physically, anyway. His head's another story. That much becomes clear soon enough, when he can barely answer any questions during his check-up.
'Daughter-- where's my daughter?' is all he can ask at first, because it seems right, to him, that he'd have a daughter. All that earns is a look of pity, a reminder that he doesn't have a daughter. Must be some head trauma from the accident...
There's something maddeningly familiar about it, about being told that his head's wrong. ('You've been hospitalized before,' he reminds himself, as the memory pushes through the fog in his mind. 'When you had your breakdown. When you had to leave the city behind for... where was it, again?') That familiarity makes his skin crawl. It's what gets him out of his bed the moment the nurse leaves again. He's shaky, at first, weak from lying in bed for who knows how long, but luckily, the hospital staff are too preoccupied with other patients to pay him any mind as he moves around. He manages to swipe a pair of slippers and a robe from another patient (a new mother, too busy nursing her child to notice) before he makes his way out the front doors.
It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sunlight, and the robe and gown don't provide enough warmth for this weather, but soon enough, Jefferson's heading along Main Street. He's not so sure about going right to the Police Department-- it just doesn't sit right with him-- so he takes his time, wandering and taking in the town he's told he lives in, but can't remember.
And he makes a bit of a sight, with his mussed up hair, several days' worth of stubble on his face, the fact that his stolen maternity robe has a very stylish floral pattern, and the fact that he's got a very conspicuous scar that goes all the way around his neck.
Obviously, you should go talk to him.
(Alternately, you can find him after he finally speaks with the sheriff to reclaim his clothes. At least then he'll be dressed more like a relatively sane person-- still in the slippers, though. His shoes, somehow, went missing.) ]
ii. home, sweet.... oh no........ [ Eventually, Jefferson makes his way back home-- and it's weird, but as the hours passed and a little more started to come back to him, home started to sound and feel about right. There's still a little apprehension in him as he turns down the street and heads up the sidewalk towards the house-- keeping an eye out for the numbers 5021, though he doesn't quite need to, because he knows it when he sees it. Jefferson stops on the sidewalk, staring at the house for a moment.
It's… cute. Homey. Smaller than he's used to, but not actually all that small. Growing up wealthy, he supposes, must have skewed his perception. After all, that's another thing he remembers now: money-- and… living in a mansion.
Jefferson blinks, draws in a sharp breath as if bracing himself, then walks up to the door to just get it over with. The inside of the house, at least, feels more familiar. Some of the décor, the style of furniture, seems right to him, like it's to his taste. Others? Not so much. He explores the house, room by room, noting the odd little… science projects here and there. The toaster, even, is in pieces. It sends a pang of annoyance through him-- sharp, intimately familiar-- and he lets out a huff before he continues his tour of the house. If any neighbors come knocking, he'll greet them.
Eventually, though, he's going to make his way to the master bathroom and have a luxurious soak in that tub.
Jefferson | OUAT | OTA
[ He'd been hit by a car. That's what the nurse says, at least, when Jefferson comes to in a hospital bed. Her tone's more than a little scolding as she explains that jaywalking had been involved, and that he's lucky his injuries were so minor... Physically, anyway. His head's another story. That much becomes clear soon enough, when he can barely answer any questions during his check-up.
'Daughter-- where's my daughter?' is all he can ask at first, because it seems right, to him, that he'd have a daughter. All that earns is a look of pity, a reminder that he doesn't have a daughter. Must be some head trauma from the accident...
There's something maddeningly familiar about it, about being told that his head's wrong. ('You've been hospitalized before,' he reminds himself, as the memory pushes through the fog in his mind. 'When you had your breakdown. When you had to leave the city behind for... where was it, again?') That familiarity makes his skin crawl. It's what gets him out of his bed the moment the nurse leaves again. He's shaky, at first, weak from lying in bed for who knows how long, but luckily, the hospital staff are too preoccupied with other patients to pay him any mind as he moves around. He manages to swipe a pair of slippers and a robe from another patient (a new mother, too busy nursing her child to notice) before he makes his way out the front doors.
It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sunlight, and the robe and gown don't provide enough warmth for this weather, but soon enough, Jefferson's heading along Main Street. He's not so sure about going right to the Police Department-- it just doesn't sit right with him-- so he takes his time, wandering and taking in the town he's told he lives in, but can't remember.
And he makes a bit of a sight, with his mussed up hair, several days' worth of stubble on his face, the fact that his stolen maternity robe has a very stylish floral pattern, and the fact that he's got a very conspicuous scar that goes all the way around his neck.
Obviously, you should go talk to him.
(Alternately, you can find him after he finally speaks with the sheriff to reclaim his clothes. At least then he'll be dressed more like a relatively sane person-- still in the slippers, though. His shoes, somehow, went missing.) ]
ii. home, sweet.... oh no........
[ Eventually, Jefferson makes his way back home-- and it's weird, but as the hours passed and a little more started to come back to him, home started to sound and feel about right. There's still a little apprehension in him as he turns down the street and heads up the sidewalk towards the house-- keeping an eye out for the numbers 5021, though he doesn't quite need to, because he knows it when he sees it. Jefferson stops on the sidewalk, staring at the house for a moment.
It's… cute. Homey. Smaller than he's used to, but not actually all that small. Growing up wealthy, he supposes, must have skewed his perception. After all, that's another thing he remembers now: money-- and… living in a mansion.
Jefferson blinks, draws in a sharp breath as if bracing himself, then walks up to the door to just get it over with. The inside of the house, at least, feels more familiar. Some of the décor, the style of furniture, seems right to him, like it's to his taste. Others? Not so much. He explores the house, room by room, noting the odd little… science projects here and there. The toaster, even, is in pieces. It sends a pang of annoyance through him-- sharp, intimately familiar-- and he lets out a huff before he continues his tour of the house. If any neighbors come knocking, he'll greet them.
Eventually, though, he's going to make his way to the master bathroom and have a luxurious soak in that tub.
DO NOT DISTURB. ]