[center][img=http://i33.photobucket.com/albums/d94/Malfoys_one_and_only_girl/Signatures/500x240StorybrookeRegina-1.gif?t=1407788873][/center]

Regina walked in just as Mason was getting out of the bath, and Regina had to curse herself for forgetting about the boy's clothes. Well, not like he would be wearing that garbage David Nolan was fronting for the boy anyway; they would just have to spend some time together tomorrow going shopping. True to her word, Regina ordered the both of them pizza and while they ate, watched a movie per Mason's request. Regina didn't understand a large majority of the Transformer's movie, but hearing Mason's child-like giggles filling up the room that would have otherwise been completely empty was enough for her to push through the entire thing.

It was nearly nine pm by the time the movie was over, but Regina didn't want the night to end. Sure Mason had school in the morning, and any responsible parent would have put him to bed shortly after...but Regina wasn't a parent. They ended up spending the next hour making cookies, and since Regina didn't have any 'fun-shaped' cookie cutters, Mason took it upon himself to shape the dough into different animals using just his fingers and a kitchen knife. Really it just looked like a bunch of uneven, misshaped blobs on a cookie sheet to Regina, but his smile kept reminding her that not everything always had to be so pristine and perfect.

It wasn't until Regina saw Mason passed out completely on the couch while they waited for the cookies to finish baking that Regina patted him awake and walked him up the spiral staircase and into a bedroom she never used. It was quite plain, the walls were a mute beige and save for a twin-sized bed and wooden desk in the corner it was completely empty. As she helped Mason climb underneath the covers, the once empty room seemed to fill as Regina imagined small toys littering the floor, a colorful rug on top of the hardwood floors, the walls painted bright colors and of course a pile of dirty laundry in the corner. These images soon melted away, back to the bare walls and boring structure as Mason grabbed Regina's hand and gave it a tired squeeze before he drifted off to sleep once more.

Instinct suddenly took over, and Regina bent at the waist to put a soft kiss on the boys forehead, squeezing his hand back and forced herself to leave him be in his bed and return downstairs. It was only then that the manila folder that Regina had plucked from Dr. Hopper's possession caught her attention, sitting out in the open on the coffee table in the living room, begging to be read. Regina picked up the folder as she sat down, holding it in her lap and began to read over the notes.

The first few pages were standard stuff, trying Regina's patience even then. Name, age, address, examiner information...Regina flipped through a couple more pages until she finally found the referral question, the reason why Faye Stevenson was even seeing Dr. Hopper in the first place.

"Dr. Stevenson has been complaining of some minor blackouts resulting in memory loss when she comes-to again. Patient describes worry, anxiety, stress and fear when succumbing to these episodes. Further analysis is required."

Regina pressed on, flipping through page after page of reports. Interviews, tests done, medications prescribed, but what Regina was looking for seemed to be hidden between the lines, if anything was there at all. Nothing stuck out to her that would explain the woman that had nearly choked her to death in the holding cells. That is, until she reached the last page, documenting the most recent interview from a week ago.

"Dr. Stevenson's blackouts continue and she keeps finding herself in places she doesn't ever recall going to. Through extensive research I have been able to pinpoint this condition as DID, Dissociative Identity Disorder. I believe that Dr. Stevenson thinks that she becomes another person during these blackouts, and this other person is blocking Dr. Stevenson from recalling any events that might take place during the episode. Further treatment is still required, medical dosage for treating anxiety and depression will be continued. Prolonged psychotherapy, hypnotherapy and adjudicative therapy will be tested."

Regina sat back into the couch, re-reading the passage at least a hundred times. What did that mean? Surely the woman in the cells wasn't Dr. Stevenson's 'alternate' self, they looked nothing alike! But still, it was the only thing that made sense. But on the other side, it made no sense at all! Who was this woman, who was she really? Regina tried thinking back...back before the curse to pinpoint who this woman was. She was only able to vaguely remember seeing her in one of her magic mirrors, it was just for a moment, and her attention had been too far put into getting Rumpelstiltskin to come to her castle...

Rumpelstiltskin...Dr. Stevenson, she was with him. A caretaker...and that meant Rumpelstiltskin knew exactly who she was. Regina quickly put the papers back in order and closed the envelope with a wry smile on her face, she knew now who held the information to the girl, and as luck would have it, he still had his memories.

But now wasn't the time to go and bother Mr. Gold, it was nearly eleven at night and the old, bitter man would shoot her the moment she stepped foot on his lawn. Ungrateful bastard, she gave him that lawn.

Instead, Regina grabbed her coat and locked up her house tight, manilla envelope tucked tightly underneath her arm and began her short walk to Archie's house. She didn't stay long, just long enough to slide the envelope underneath the cricket's welcome mat where Archie would very well know where to find it. She couldn't leave any chances open, although she was confident with herself in not getting caught with it, the way Dr. Stevenson had bid her goodnight was a bit...unnerving.

Shoving her hands into her coat pockets, she then began the short walk to the Sheriff's station where she knew Robert would still be, probably bored out of his mind with what little went on in Storybrooke. She had a prisoner to see, even if it was 'after hours.'