The Girl With Lost Memories - Parts 1 & 2 (An OUAT Fanfiction)

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 29: 𝐿𝑒𝓉'𝓈 𝒮𝒶𝒾𝓁 𝒜𝓌𝒶𝓎

Inside Granny's, the jukebox plays 1960s elevator music. It barely covers up the loud chatter and scraping of plates.

Killian sits at the counter with his flask. He seems depressed with his slouched shoulders, and I know it has to do with what I said. I move one step at a time toward him while he drinks.

What is this? Like Apology #4? This is the most I've apologized in years. But I'm seeing the point of it.

"Hey."

He doesn't look at me. "Hi, Palmer."

I never thought I'd be hurt by him not calling me "love." It must've grown on me.

"You know how I said people don't always mean what they say? Well, I didn't mean anything I said the other day. But I know you did. I should've been more... appreciative."

"Aye. You should have been."

"I've never quite had a friend like you before. I've never had someone tell me those things before, and it kind of hurt when you said them because..." my chin quivers, "I've wanted someone to tell me those things my entire life, and when you said them... I didn't feel worthy."

"You are," he says, turning to me.

"I know that now..." I smile sadly. "Thanks to you."

A soft grin forms on Hook's face, and he pushes his flask away. "Have you had much of a break since you arrived in town?"

"Not really."

"Then how about I take you sailing on the Jolly Roger?"

My lips tug upward.

A pirate adventure? Just me and him? Sold.

"Just around the harbor. What do you say?"

I have the perfect rhyme. "Let's sail away."

* * *

Out on the harbor, Killian teaches me how to fasten a line to keep a sail secure. The ship rocks beneath my feet, and the wooden beams, boards, and masts creak from the movement. The sails whip and crack in the strong winds while I wrap the line around a cleat.

"Look at you. You're a natural," Killian says when I'm finished.

I chuckle. "Why does it feel like I've done this before?"

Killian's quiet. I look over my shoulder, then stand up straight to face him. It seems he's trying to think of an answer, or rather has one, but won't tell me.

"I should be at the helm," he says at last and walks away, his boots thumping across the deck. "We wouldn't want to crash with Grumpy's vessel."

"Who's Grumpy?" I call to him.

He points out to the calm ocean. A speed boat skims along the water, leaving behind a trail of bubbling white foam. Leroy's captaining it.

"Hmph. He is grumpy, isn't he?"

A little while later, I lean against the starboard side. My hair flies in the wind while the seagulls squawk above. I lift my face to the sky. It's a tad grey, but not because a storm's coming. It's because of the cold weather, and Maine is freaking cold. Lowering my head, I watch the water hit the hull. The waves splash, and a cool mist sprays on my face.

I can see why pirates like sailing. It's peaceful. Healing. I don't think I've stopped pulling my lips into a smile.

I head over to Killian as the ship's bell dongs once more. Behind him, Storybrooke seems so small. It's like a blur. The only tell that it's Storybrooke is the clocktower peaking above the fog.