Chapter 1

The sun felt warm against her skin as she sat on the edge of her boat, her feet kicking lazily under the water. She glanced over at the four fishing rods attached to the sides, watching for the tell-tale signs of a catch. She jumped up quickly when she saw one of the rods twitch ever so slightly, a sign of a fish attached to the hook deep under the water. She quickly twisted the reel handle, pulling in the line, until she was left with a large fish attached to the sharp hook. She grabbed the fish with practiced ease and pulled the sharp hook out of the fish's mouth. The fish flopped around in her hand as it slowly suffocated outside of the water.

"I'm sorry my friend. I hope you had a good life. In death, you will give others life," she whispered to the dying fish. Once the movement ceased, she tossed the dead fish into a cooler of ice, filled with the rest of her catches that day, before resetting the hook with fresh bait and casting it back in the water before resuming her position over the edge of the boat. The rest of the afternoon continued this way, jumping up when a fish caught the bait, holding it tight until it perished and tossing it into the cooler before resetting the line and casting it back into the water.

She loved the water. She would stay out in the ocean for days if she could, but that was never an option. The boat she was using wasn't her own, so she was bound by the rules of its owner. She frowned slightly as she glanced at the clock above the steering wheel, noticing it was almost time to head back to shore. She checked the lines one more time, reeling them in before securing them to the deck. She smiled when she looked at the clock again, checking the time once more. She pulled off her tank top and jean shorts, revealing a modest bathing suit underneath. A wide smile spread across her face as she dove off the end of the boat. She surfaced for just a moment, just long enough to take in a deep breath, before diving back under the water. She swam down as far as she could, until the pressure caused her head to hurt, before turning back and surfacing, taking another deep breath. She dove down a few more times, each time trying to swim a little deeper before being forced to surface again.

She never felt more at peace than when she was submerged deep inside the ocean, or floating on the surface, allowing the waves to push her along. She didn't know why she was always so drawn to it. All she knew was she craved the feeling of the water around her body and the feeling of the ocean air on her skin. There was no place on the planet that made her feel the way the ocean made her feel.

She spent the next fifteen minutes floating on her back, staring at the clear blue sky, her mind racing and yet still at the same time, until a squawking seagull startled her back to reality. She sighed heavily when she realized her time out on the water was over for the day, and she needed to swim back to her boat and head back to the shore. She slowly climbed back on board, heading to the steering wheel and starting the engine, slowly pushing the boat forward. She steered the boat in a wide circle, dragging her net along the bottom of the ocean, one final task before she returned to land for the evening. She pulled the net up after a few minutes, dumping its contents on the deck, searching for small fish, and finding a few flopping against the plastic deck. She quickly scooped them up and tossed them into the cooler with the rest of her catches for the day before sifting through the remainder of the contents of the net.

She smiled when she discovered a handful of colorful shells, some no larger than her fingernail. She pulled out a small jar from inside her tattered backpack and carefully dropped the shells inside, adding to her collection of beautiful ocean items. Securing her jar back in her bag, she scooped up the rest of the rocks and seaweed and tossed them overboard before grabbing her clothes and pulling them on, hoping the sun had dried her skin and bathing suit enough to prevent wet spots on her clothes. She sighed as she started the engine once again, accelerating while she turned back toward the shore, her boat skipping over the waves as she went along, letting the setting sun and wind dry the rest of body and hair.

She arrived at the busy docks twenty minutes later, carefully maneuvering her boat into its usual spot. She jumped onto the wooden dock, securing the boat in the process before joining the hustle and bustle of the busy marina.

"Swan! You're late," a deep, heavily accented voice yelled from over the usual sound of the dock. "And you went for a swim, I see."

"Relax. It was only for a few minutes," she said, walking past him, kissing him quickly on his stubble-filled cheek as she passed.

"Whatever. Just unpack your cooler," he growled. She quickly dragged the cooler onto the wooden platform, tossing her catches into an even larger cooler while a supervisor counted them, marking the total on a clipboard for commission payment at the end of the week. She dumped out the ice and water from her cooler, leaving it open on the deck of the boat to dry and quickly hurried away from the water.

She walked down the quiet streets of Storybrooke, Maine, waving wildly at her closest friend, who was soaking up the warm sunlight outside the local diner, as she made her way back to her small and modest home. As soon as she was inside, she made a beeline to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and pulling out a loaf of bread and a small bowl of tuna salad. She gave the simple combination of canned tuna and mayonnaise a quick sniff to check for freshness before smearing a spoonful carefully over slightly stale bread, placing a second slice over the top to make a quick sandwich. She wrapped her lunch in a paper towel and grabbed her bag again, walking out of the door as quickly as she had come in, walking back toward the beach.

Storybrooke was a very small coastal town in Maine, with an even smaller beach that most townsfolk stayed away from. Which is perfect for her. No one bothered her while she was there and she usually had the whole beach to herself. She kicked off her sneakers as soon as the pavement disappeared, her toes wiggling in the cool sand as she walked toward the water, taking a seat when the moment felt right. She buried her toes deep in the sand as she settled in, her gaze falling on the crashing waves in front of her.

She loved the ocean. She loved the open water. The closer she got to the water, the happier she was. She would live in the water if she could and craved it when she wasn't near. She smiled as she took a bite of her questionable sandwich, the ocean breeze causing the stray hair that had fallen out of her long braid to fly around her head. She was finally at peace once more, now that she was close to the water again.

She watched the sunset on the beach, the bright colors from the sky reflecting in the waves below, until a text message pulled her away from her serenity. She sighed as she looked at the message, frowning at the words on the screen.

"Killian just left work. He's heading to the diner for his post-work drink." She rolled her eyes slightly as she read the words on the phone, sending a quick response to John, one of the other fishermen who worked at the docks with her. She tossed her phone back into her bag and stood up, taking one last look out at the water before turning back around. She made her way toward the road, wiping off her feet and slipping her shoes back on when she reached the edge of the beach.

She walked back home slowly, not in any real rush to get there, heading directly into the kitchen as soon as she arrived. She pulled a large pot out of the cupboard, filling it with water before placing it on the stove, turning the burner on as high as it would go. A little while later, just as she poured the box of pasta into the boiling water, the front door opened and in walked Killian, making his way into the kitchen to inspect what she was cooking for dinner.

"Pasta again, Swan? Really? Don't you know how to cook anything else?"

"You don't like my cooking, you are welcome to cook yourself," she responded. She could smell the rum on his breath.

"Like hell I will. That ain't my job," he said, grabbing a beer out of the fridge.

"Then shut the fuck up," she said, stirring the pasta.

"You curse like a sailor, you know that? It's very unbecoming of a lady," he said, flopping onto the couch, kicking his boots off.

She laughed. "Like I fucking care." He rolled his eyes and took a deep swig of his beer, waiting for dinner to be ready.

A little while later, after dinner was finished and the kitchen was cleaned, she sat on the couch next to Killian, who was chugging his third beer since arriving home.

"I think I'm going to take a walk on the beach to clear my head."

"Like hell you are," Killian said, wrapping his arm around her tighter. "You're going to stay right here, next to me." She sighed and rolled her eyes. Killian hated when she spent time at the beach or in the water. For a fisherman, he sure hated being out to sea. He would boast that one of his ancestors was a pirate, supposedly the inspiration for the famous character "Captain Hook". She secretly thought he was afraid of the water.

It felt like her skin was crawling, pulling her toward the beach, toward the water, but she was stuck inside, being held in place by Killian's sweaty arm. She closed her eyes and pictured the ocean in her mind, instantly feeling a little more at ease. If only she could be in the water right now, drifting along with the current, she would feel way better. After an hour, she decided the next best thing to being at the beach would be to take a long shower. Water was water, right? As she stood under the spray of the shower, the warm water washing over her, she felt a little better, but not completely. She knew she didn't just crave water. She craved the sea.

By the time she was finished in the shower, Killian was waiting for her in bed. She sighed once again as she climbed in next to him, willing sleep to come so she could dream of the sea.

The next morning, she got up before Killian, gathering everything she needed for the day, making sure to put on her bathing suit under her shorts and tank top. She rushed out the door and practically ran to the docks to start her day. She was always one of the first people out there in the morning, and she liked it that way. No one was around to bother her, allowing her to start her day in peace. No one was there to tell her she was doing something wrong or missing something. It was just her, the boat, and the open water. She pulled her boat away from the dock as the sun continued to rise, lighting the sky above her as her boat skipped across the waves.

This was her happy place.

She went about her day as usual, filling her cooler with fresh catches, running her net across the ocean floor, pulling clams and muscles along the way, saving the colorful shells and seaglass she found trapped amongst the sealife. Just as the day was coming to an end, she jumped into the ocean, swimming deeper and deeper with each dive, trying so hard to reach the ocean floor, always coming up short.

Killian rolled his eyes again when she made it back to the docks. He knew she had been swimming; he could smell the salt water on her skin when she walked by. She didn't care. The ocean was her happy place. It was her safety net. Not even Killian made her feel like that. After leaving work for the day, she ran home to make her usual tuna sandwich before returning to the beach to sit alone for a few more hours, until her phone went off, pulling her from her thoughts. The calendar app on her phone flashed a message across the screen, reminding her of an appointment she had in town. This time, she didn't mind leaving the beach, because she was looking forward to this appointment. She always looked forward to this appointment.

She jumped up and started to make her way back into town, taking off into a light jog when she realized she was going to be late. She made it to the office door just in time, knocking lightly before entering.

"Good evening, Miss Swan. Come right in," the doctor said as she peeked her head inside the office.

"Good evening, Doctor Hopper," she said, entering the small office and closing the door behind her.

"You went for a swim today, didn't you?" he asked as she took a seat on the leather couch across from him.

"Yeah, I did, right before I finished work. Oh gosh, I'm sorry. I must smell like the beach. I didn't get a chance to shower before I came here," she apologized.

"No need to apologize. It reminds me of being a child, spending the day at the beach with my parents. It's a happy memory," Doctor Hopper said, smiling as he settled into his chair with his notepad. "Plus, I know how important the ocean is for you and your recovery. I advocate for more time swimming, if it will help in your recovery."

"Thanks," she said, shyly.

"How are you doing today? Anything new?" Doctor Hopper asked, clicking his pen, prepared to take his usual notes as she talked.

She frowned. "I'm doing well, I guess. And no, nothing new."

"Give it time. Your mind is still struggling. It'll come back when it's ready. We can't force it. We can only encourage it along," Doctor Hopper explained. She knew that. She knew she needed to give her mind time to recover. They had spoken about her recovery many times before. It was still frustrating nonetheless.

"Yeah, I know. I just wish I knew what happened to me," she said, sadness filling her voice as she subconsciously scratched at the scar on her arm before reaching to play with the small purple seashell she wore around her neck.

"And you will. Once your mind is ready, it'll tell you. We just need to…"

"...be patient. I know," she said, sighing heavily.

"I know we've tried some alternate methods to nudge your brain to remember," Doctor Hopper said, flipping through her chart.

"Yeah. And nothing worked," she said, frustration raising in her voice. "Not even the stupid hypnosis worked. Leave it to me to be the only person on this planet who can't be hypnotized."

Doctor Hopper laughed. "Believe me, Miss Swan, there are plenty of people on this planet that can't be hypnotized. I'd like to try something different," he said, standing from the chair and walking toward his desk, pulling something out of the drawer. He handed her a blank notebook. "I want you to start keeping a journal."

"A journal? Really?" she asked, looking at the notebook like it was the most foreign object to her.

"Yes. I think we've been pushing your mind too much lately. I'd like to try a more gentle approach to your memory loss."

"And you think writing in a journal is going to help me remember who I am?" she asked, heavy confusion written across her face.

"Yes, I think it might. Start by writing down things that you do know about your condition. Write down things that you may remember, or dreams that you have. Any thoughts that pop into your mind suddenly for no reason. Write everything down. Maybe something along the way will jog your memory," Doctor Hopper explained.

"Okay. I'll give it a shot," she said, stuffing the notebook into her backpack.

Forty-five minutes later, she left Doctor Hopper's office, her head spinning and yet still empty, no closer to recovery than when she walked in. She checked her phone to find five missed calls from Killian, along with two voicemails and a plethora of texts. She sighed and listened to the first voicemail, knowing all the other messages will be exactly the same.

"Swan! Where the hell are you? I just got home from work and there's no dinner ready! And you are nowhere to be seen. You better get home soon, and there better be dinner with you." She could practically feel his frustration through the message. She opened the text messages and saw the exact same message written out and sent five separate times.

"I had therapy tonight, dumbass. I'm just leaving Doctor Hopper's office now. I already put an order in at Granny's with Ruby and the food should already be ready. I'm stopping on my way home and will pick it up," she responded, not waiting for his response before throwing her phone back in her bag, making her way toward the local diner.

Just as suspected, Ruby was waiting for her, two bags already packed and ready to go sitting on the counter in front of her.

"Thanks for dinner," she said, pulling out her wallet and handing her friend a couple bills to cover their dinner.

"Anytime! Hey, we need to hang out soon."

"YES! Please! Friday? Drinks?" she asked.

"Can't. Saturday?" Ruby asked.

"Done! I'll meet you at the Rabbit Hole after your shift." She sighed heavily when she heard her phone go off in her bag. "I better go. Killian is wondering where I am," she said, not even looking at her phone. She grabbed the bags and left the diner, making her way back to the house she shared with Killian Jones.

"You're late!" Killian growled, snatching one of the bags out of her hand, pulling out the burger wrapped in foil, as well as the order of fries that came with it. "Great, the food is cold too."

"Would you relax? That's why the microwave was invented," she said, taking a bite of her own burger, which wasn't that cold. Killian was just being his usual dramatic self.

That night they sat on the couch like usual, Killian on his fourth beer of the evening, reminding her it was her fault he had to drink so much, because he had to wait forever for her to come home with food.

"I think I'm going to take a walk on the beach for a little while. Clear my head from therapy."

"Yeah, that's not happening. You can clear your head just fine right here," Killian said. "In fact, go clear your head to the kitchen and get me another beer." Her only saving grace was knowing he would be passed out on the couch soon. He pretended to be able to hold his drink, but he was secretly a light weight.

Sure enough, an hour later he was snoring on the couch, allowing her some peace and quiet, although her window had already closed for a walk on the beach since it was later than she anticipated. She would have to settle for a long shower to tide her over until work in the morning. She fell asleep to visions of crashing waves, a trick Doctor Hopper taught her to help her sleep.