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

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 40: 𝒟𝒾𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓇 𝑀𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝐹𝑜𝓊𝓁

Mary Margaret outdid herself tonight. A mouthwatering array of dishes fills the table; chicken, steamed veggies, oven-roasted potatoes, salad with homemade vinaigrette, spaghetti, Brussels sprouts—I don't know why—and rolls from the store she heated. I haven't enjoyed such a bountiful meal since the last Christmas dinner Irene prepared. It's like Thanksgiving up in here—not that I'm complaining. The aroma of the food mixes with the scented candles, creating the delightful scent of family and togetherness.

Though, we couldn't be farther away from that.

It's fucking awkward.

Emma avoids Neal each chance she gets, despite Mary Margaret trying to spark conversation. David talks with Neal, but Emma brushes them off whenever he tries to bring her into the discussion.

I try to contribute here and there, especially when the topic transitions to the latest music we've been listening to. I talk about Britney Spears, Madonna, and the Spice Girls, as well as modern artists, like Taylor Swift, One Direction, Katy Perry, and Ed Sheeran.

To my disappointment, David shifts the topic to sports games. I don't know a thing about sports, so I have nothing to add other than how people thought I played basketball in the fifth grade because I was tall for my age. That's it.

"Mind if I divert the discussion to magic stuff, Bella?" Neal says.

It's clear that everyone in Storybrooke has a strong interest in the supernatural, and I don't want to discourage them. Not anymore. I hated it when people did that to me, so I won't do it to them. These people are my new friends, and it's clear their minds can't be changed about magic existing. To them, it does.

While I no longer believe in magic, I don't mind listening to them talk about it, and I'm going to be polite in my response. I won't roll my eyes or mock them like I've done. Besides, it's an interesting topic of conversation, even if it isn't something I subscribe to.

"Um—No. I don't mind."

Neal nods in appreciation, and his gaze shifts to the others. "What're we gonna do about Hook's sail? He can't keep the Shadow in there forever."

"I don't know," Emma says, folding a napkin in half. It would seem Neal's found a topic Emma would set her grudge aside for. "We could try burning it."

"But wouldn't that just aggravate it?" Mary Margaret asks. She scans each person at the table, seeking their input.

David's expression grows serious, his hand around his water glass. "Can it even be killed? It's a shadow."

"Who knows? For now, it's trapped," Emma says. "Gold can come up with how to destroy it later."

The Shadow? Killian's sail? The black sail. That's right. Killian told me about it soon after I arrived in town—about how Regina trapped Pan's shadow in the mainsail, turning it black. If I believed in this or wanted the others to think I did, I'd agree with the burning solution. But David's got a point. How do you kill a shadow?

"How are you and Hook, by the way?" Oh, boy.

Emma's caught off guard by Neal's question and looks at her parents with quizzical eyes. "We're...how we always were. In fact, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on, Emma. He hasn't said anything to you?"

"Other than 'Morning, Swan' when I saw him two days ago, no."

"Wow. I guess he meant it," Neal says, turning back to his food.

Emma rests her arm on the table with a thud as she swivels in her chair to face him. "Meant what?"