Hiya! Been a long time OUAT fan and recently decided to start writing fics of my own. My favorite character (Whale/Frankenstein) and my favorite ship (Whale/FrankensteinXRuby/Red) never get any love so I'm going to try my hand at it. Sorry if it's a mess, but I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time, but if I did, every episode would have Ruby in it kicking butt and taking names.

Chapter One: Unexpected Awakenings

Victor heard heels clacking towards him and continued to look at his medical notes, still focused as he bent over his desk with liquid gold in his right hand. He knew there was only one person who would dare visit him during work and his body's immediate response was for the hairs on the back of his neck to rise. Since she was coming his way, he feigned being absorbed in scribbling comments in the margins regarding the restorative effects of fairy dust.

Frankenstein chugged down his coffee and flinched as the liquid landed on his blouse, burning the skin underneath. He casually wiped off the spot, uncaring if it stained. Oh well, not the worst liquid to have soiled one of his shirts.

The real problem would have been if it had landed on and smeared his sketches.

Behind him he heard the shoes stop and a happy thrill ran up and down his spine. "Really should have listened to you this time. It appears another innocent outfit has been ruined in the pursuit of knowledge," he joked, a smile lighting up his face, expecting and loving how she was one of the few that felt comfortable with scolding him.

"Why hello there to you too, my little genius," a distorted voice mocked, one that Victor felt in his gut should not have been able to get in here. It was impossible for him to pin down where he had her voice before because it rose and lowered in pitch as if someone was auto-tuning everything she said.

"I can only assume why you are here," he stated calm as could be even as his back tensed. Whale knew she shouldn't be here, but somehow he felt that breaking into this fortress was definitely not the hardest thing she had had to accomplish. As he struggled to make sense of the situation, Victor's voice strayed off to a garbled mess, "But all I care about is... you have… her… dead."

His eyes rose from looking at his notes to staring at the garbled green mass in front of him. He couldn't discern her face, but he was positive he knew her. But the more he stared, the less sure he was of her appearance. Was she white, black, or green like he had first imagined?

"Does she matter?" the intruder cackled, long and loud, "I… here… for..."

He felt his nails dig into his palms, but he didn't know why. Everything was such a mess, what was going on? "…matter… hide… where… go… find… When you… weakest… be… there… over… when… die… harmed… promise... that much."

Another cackle and he could feel her sneer burned into his limbic system although she remained to be invisible, "Doubtful. Now… good… let… take… need."

"Never." He heard himself hiss this with stunning clarity, with such hatred. Victor's hand slid across the table and enclosed itself around what he knew was a remote. A button was pressed and was immediately followed by the crackle of electricity biting through the air.

Light coursed through the room and for a second it was not his office at the hospital, but an all stone room as if from a castle. He could hear her screaming, not of pain, but of rage. Whatever he had activated had impeded her original plan.

Suddenly it wasn't important as to what he had done for pain jolted up his body and it wasn't her screaming, but himself and-

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Victor Frankenstein bolted up out of bed, his hand slamming over the blasted clock and causing various items to fall to the floor in his haste. After this original scramble, his hands rose to rub his temples, always loathing what the morning-after felt like. Out of all his many drunken stupors, this was the worst hangover he had ever braved, even worse than the time that outsider came to town.

Swinging his legs over the bed, he proceeded to evaluate what the heck was going on. Whale did not remember drinking; he had even attempted to avoid alcohol after the incident with the outsider. Had someone died? Left? What was he forgetting?

Yesterday he had…Wait. Yesterday they had all prepared to leave Storybrooke; yesterday they were supposed to have been delivered home. Victor had said goodbye to everyone he knew, hugged the few friends he usually kept at arms length and prepared to be sent home to a household now long dead and rotted. Yesterday he was supposed to have been delivered home to continue what he did best.

Today he remained in Storybrooke, waking up in just the same way he had at the beginning of the previous curse. They had all suffered and now it should have been all over, Regina had said that it would all be over. But they also knew her as a notorious liar. What else had they really expected?

Let the torture continue for the outsider to their realm, that was definitely what they had been thinking. Just keep bringing the crazy Doctor Whale back into their problems because Storybrooke wouldn't be able to function without their only medically licensed braniac.

Sometimes he regretted that he hadn't gone into some other menial career like politics. Except he would never stoop that low, he loved what he did, even after all the pain it had inflicted on himself and those around him.

Victor grabbed onto his night stand, vision already blurring as he pushed himself into a standing position. Okay, good, he had some semblance of motor control…and than he felt himself tilt backwards to fall right back into bed.

He knew right off the bat that had hit his throbbing head that today was not going to be a good day, but he still struggled to move. Whale had to make it to Granny's, the Town Hall, or the hospital. Who cares where! All he needed was to talk to other citizens, figure out what was going on, why the hell Regina would curse them again and were there any magic beans left so that he could blow this fairy tale gone awry?

But first things first, he needed pants, and a shirt. Underwear would help too. What could he say? Doctor Whale preferred sleeping in the nude.

Once again Victor sat up, grabbed the table, and successfully pulled himself to an off-balance standing position. He slowly scooted himself so that he leaned against the wall and made his way towards the bathroom.

Upon entering, he limped over to the sink and cleaned off his face. A thin later of sweat had been making him feel uncomfortably sticky.

Whale's eyes rose to lock with those of his reflection's and blinked at his unmarred face and slightly scruffy hair. For some reason it was at least an inch longer than it had been yesterday, not matching with the timeline in his head.

The Doctor's eyes raked down his body, pausing to glower at the huge claw marks on his chest.

Never before had he been one to run about and hurt himself, Victor Frankenstein had always been the pensive big brother who patched up the overly-active martyrs around him. But sure enough, four widely spaced, parallel, mostly healed scars ran from his shoulder to the middle of his chest, the pink of the injury looking glaringly obvious against his porcelain skin. Victor was sure that one was new; he had only ever seen such blemishes on animal attack victims and he had never been one. His clinical side pushed through the inspection, knowing if there was one problem that had arisen between what he had first assumed to be yesterday and today, there was bound be more.

Again, another unexplained mark cluttered his skin for he could see the start of a Lichtenberg Flower running from his right shoulder to somewhere on his back. He had not had one of these since his original tampering with all things electricity, but no matter what, he knew this one was new. It was a fairly fresh scar and somewhere along the line it had healed. If the destroyed blood vessels were anything to go by, he had been hit by lightning.

This also would explain his trouble moving. The lightning strike had hopefully caused a very temporary failure to maintain equilibrium. At least the first time he had had these problems Igor had been there to help him fumble around, but this time he would have to hobble around town alone.

Now he really knew how important his mission was because who knew what state the rest of the town was in if the Doctor of it all had been mauled by an electrified mutant.

Running a hand through his hair, Victor wrinkled his nose in disgust at the grease coating his lengthy locks. Only a day ago, Whale's hair had been its usual short spiky style, but now it limply hung over his forehead. The growth may not have been that much, but it was enough to emphasize the passage of time. Taking into account the healed Lichtenberg Flower coupled with scars from a huge animal meant that at least a month had passed, if not more.

He needed answers. And definitely a bottle of Advil because this migraine really wasn't letting up.

After taking four pills dry, Victor stiffly shuffled into the shower and quickly cleaned himself off to seem at least mildly presentable to the rest of the town. Whale still felt that he had appearances to keep up around here.

With a towel draped around his hips, he limped into his walk-in closet to grab blue jeans, a 'Red Hot Chili Peppers' t-shirt and a black jacket. It could be the middle of summer or the middle of winter out there for all he knew.

After getting dressed, Whale slid along the wall for support until he reached the stairs. Now this would be the difficult part…or not. He shook his head at the recollections of racing Gerhardt down the banister as children. It had been a long while since Victor had considered such tomfoolery.

Not saying he did now, but it did seem like the easiest way to get to the first floor.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, he again clung to the wall, praying he did not fall over in his stumble to the foyer. Thankfully he still had an umbrella right where he had expected one to be as he would require some measure of help to get to where he needed to go. Being the town Doctor didn't mean you had crutches laying around your house for any old reason.

Now it was time for the real struggle because the journey to town had just begun. The only good news was that he had a house right nearby so that the town's only doctor would be a call away.

By a lucky guess, it actually turned out to be the middle of winter and was as cold a day Maine could have without experiencing snow. The only downside to the whole predicament was that it had either been within a month since the Pan incident or it had been at least a year if the seasons were anything to go by. Whale loathed to consider that he, him who could remember what he had eaten for breakfast on any random day, had actually forgotten months of his life – at least that.

Pushing down the what felt to be random trepidation of an empty street, he stepped onto the sidewalk, praying to the powers that be that if he fell, no one would see it happen. Thank god that not a soul was around, but that was most likely temporary due to the sliver of sunlight peeking over the horizon.

At the crack of dawn, there were only two places one could go and expect someone to be up and about: Granny's Diner and Storybrooke General Hospital. Considering one would have dazed and confused not-even-nurse practitioners while the other would have the only good cup of coffee in town, he made the obvious decision.

If there were to be any heroes looking for answers, this monster would find them at Granny's Diner.