It had been 2 years. 2 years since Allison Cameron had walked out of my life, leaving my world shattered. 18 months since I had come out of the psych ward at PPTH. And exactly 17 months, 3 weeks, 6 days, 11 hours, 23 minutes, and oh, 17 seconds since I had decided to search for her.

No one had seen her since that night. The night she came home late. I closed my eyes and got a painful reminder. As always.

"You've been crying" I jumped off the sofa I had been sitting on. "Ally, what's wrong?"

"Remy, I, I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry." The world was pulled out from under me feet. She ran out, crying.

I was upset, to say the least. I went for the razor. Foreman found me on the floor of my bathroom. I had tear tracks on my face, and a pool of blood surrounding me. At least, that's what he told me. I had passed out by then. I ran my thumb along the scars on my wrist. Taub had offered to hide them. I flat out refused. They were a reminder. I got dressed and checked out from my room. I bought some M&Ms from the vending machine. No way would I risk the diner at this low budget, side of the road motel. My phone rang.

"Lucas? What? Did you find her?"

"Remy, breathe. Are you ready for this? I haven't found her, but-"

"Well, why the fuck are you wasting my time?"

"Allison Cameron disappeared 2 years ago. ALTHOUGH" he probably thought I would interrupt him, again. "There's this woman that appeared about the same time Allison DISappeared."

"You think that's Allison?" I tried not to get my hopes up. Over 18 months, we had found about 20 'Allisons' Tallahassee, New Jersey, Connecticut. This could be another near miss. But I had to try.

"I'm not sure if it's Allison, but even if it isn't, she might know where she is."

"Wait... How?"

He hesitated. "They have a history. I'm not sure what exactly..." I got jealous. "She's in a place called Storybrooke."

"Storybrooke? Is that for real?"

"It's not on the map. I'm sending you the coordinates. Good luck, agent." He hung up. I swear if he makes one more joke about being a spy, he dies. Painfully. Preferably, choking on his own balls whish have been severed from his body with a teaspoon. I got the location and put it in my SatNav. I took a deep breath and started the engine. What the hell am I doing? I'm probably insane, but I'm not gonna just let her go. I know she loves me, too. Storybrooke, eh? They're gonna have a new visitor very soon. It's about a half hour drive. Better get started.