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

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 51: 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝒾𝓇𝓁 𝒲𝒽𝑜 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝒪𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒮𝒽𝑒 𝒞𝒶𝓃 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝐻𝒶𝓋𝑒

The lounge nestles at the side of a lengthy corridor, furnished with only a coffee station, a boxy TV, a nondescript table, and chairs that have seen better days. The room wears an air of drabness, its walls painted in the color of chemical gloves. Antiseptic and illness fill the air, and the hum of fluorescent lights is enough to drive anyone insane. Patients and nurses shuffle in and out, some with anxious expressions, others weary and defeated.

On TV, a woman named Nova appears on Good Morning Storybrooke, teaching viewers how to fold towels into bears—as if I need the reminder—but her energy only makes the tension in the room more palpable, her voice droning in the otherwise quiet lounge.

My butt's numb, so I change my sitting position. I lean over my crossed legs and prop my head with my hand. My elbow digs into my thigh, but I don't care.

I hate waiting, especially when it's for something like this. They shouldn't have called if they didn't have the results ready.

"This is ridiculous. I'm the mayor. I shouldn't have to wait for anything." Regina gets up and strides to a nurse in the hallway. She argues with her. I don't know what she's saying, but her arms move around to get her point across.

"Anything?" I say when she returns.

"No." She sinks back into her chair. "This is not how this place should operate." As we talk, not one of us looks at the other. Not before, and not now. We both gaze straight ahead, pretending to care about folding towels.

"Are you sure they said they have the results?"

"Yes. I don't know what the hell is taking so long," Regina says, straightening her back, her hands smoothing over the fabric of her black pencil dress.

"Maybe they're trying to figure out how to tell me."

"No. This whole town is full of idiots." No comment there. "How did the lost item thing work out?"

I'm really starting to hate small-town gossip. "Not great. The necklace was my mother's, but she gave it to someone named Ashley."

"That girl is always losing things. Jewelry, shoes...babies."

I look at her in shock, but she's still facing the TV. "How much longer, do you think?" I ask, turning my head away again.

"I don't know. It's not like they have a ton of patients to take care of, so God knows what's holding them up."

From the seat beside her, I eye the deep gash on Regina's upper lip. I've always wondered about its origins but never had the nerve to ask. Her constant threats didn't make it any easier. Finally, I take the plunge. "How'd you get your scar?"

Regina sighs, not thrilled about the topic. "When I was young, I fell off my horse and cut my lip on a rock."

I wince at the thought. "That must've hurt."

"Barely."

This may be the longest conversation Regina and I ever had that didn't involve us wanting to rip each other's throats out. It's actually quite nice. We're not bonding per se, but talking's good, especially when it doesn't center around her threatening me.

I search for another topic to keep the conversation going and figure I might as well go with the most common in Storybrooke. "Could you tell me something about the Fairytale World? Everyone else has."

"I cursed it."

"Something else."

Regina reaches for the remote on the coffee table and changes the channel to Epic with another sigh. "Being an evil queen wasn't all it was cracked up to be."