Sirens blared, but he barely heard them. His attention was on her, on the woman who smelled faintly of cinnamon and pine; his savior. He had forced his way out of the sterile room- whatever it was supposed to be, and on unsteady feet, into the forest. He had no idea why his feet led him through the trees to that very stream; his only though had been to find her, that he had to- no, needed to find her. And in some strange twist of fate it had been her who had found him. He wasn't sure, but it felt odd; why the turn of events struck him as strange, he couldn't quite remember. If he was to be honest with himself, he didn't remember much of anything.

He remembered the darkness; it was impossible to forget. In the blackness he had been alone, completely isolated from the outside world, trapped inside his mind for who knows how long. For years he had been separated from human contact. Nothing could reach him. Occasionally the words of those nearby would wash over him, but they were distant and jumbled, unrecognizable through the fog that hovered around his mind. It was terrible, being prisoner to one's own mind, forever lost in an endless abyss. In the darkness time stood still, one eternal night, while the rest of the world moved forward. The feeling of being completely and utterly alone was something he wished he could forget. But, it didn't matter, not anymore. All that mattered was that she was there, at the spot of which his feet had unwittingly guided him. He was no longer alone.

The next few moments were but a blur. Voices were everywhere; talking to and around him. Her warm, smiling face disappeared from his vision, replaced by the faces of two people he had never seen before. They were speaking calmly, telling him something he didn't bother, nor cared, to listen to. His mind was still set on her, and although he could not see her, he sensed her presence hovering silently nearby, her eyes trained on him, unwaveringly; this comforted him, knowing that she was there, that she hadn't left. The new faces lifted him up into a vehicle of sorts, and the last thing he saw before the doors were closed was her face, soft, reassuring; she promise him she would be right behind him, that they- whoever they were, would meet him there.

The time spent in the small, box-like structure felt endless, and finally when they opened the doors he was carted off, back to the unnaturally white room. A man was there- a doctor. The doctor hovered about, speaking lowly and pressed two fingers against his neck. Where was she? She was supposed to be here.A feeling of annoyance bubbled up in him, directed not at her but towards the doctor. Seconds later the very doors he was brought through flew open. "David, David is that you?" a woman's voice rose above the hovering peoples' chatter.

A woman with shoulder-length blonde hair appeared in his line of vision. Her face filled with concern, a watery, shocked smile curled onto her lips. The doctor, whose name he had yet to learn spoke, "Excuse me ma'am? Ma'am you can't be in here. Please." Coming up behind her, the doctor placed his hands on her shoulders, guiding her away from his bed and across the room as he continued to speak, "You can't be in here right now. You can't be here ma'am. You need to leave here for a second."

His mind felt hazy, confusion swirling in his eyes. Who was this woman? And more importantly, why was she calling him David? Was that his name? Did this woman know him? He wondered, question after question swirled in his mind. He racked his brain for information, for anything that might help him understand. It was blank, as blank as the dark abyss he had been trapped in, and it frightened him. He had no idea who he was; nothing, it was completely blank. His name, his entire life before the abyss was gone; the only thing he had to hold onto was the hauntingly familiar face of his savior, whose name he had yet to learn.

His name was David, David Nolan. Or so the blonde woman told him. And she, whose voice sounded like a high pitched whine, was his wife. Kathryn, was it? His wife; it felt strange thinking of her that way. He couldn't remember her. She was as foreign to him that the people hovering annoyingly by his bedside, who he could only assume prevented the dark haired woman from seeing him. Nothing about her seemed to click; there was nothing familiar about her. Her face, her voice, and even her very touch was alien. It was as if he had never met her, let alone married her. The lavender that wafted about her was strong, almost overpoweringly so; it lodged in his nose and throat, and while it wasn't necessarily an unpleasant scent, it was a far cry from the cinnamon and pine.

Lost to his thoughts, he didn't see her move until her arms were around him. Awkwardly he wrapped an arm around her. Over her shoulder a dark haired figure caught his eye. His gaze immediately turned towards the door, and his breath caught in his chest. There she was, his painstakingly familiar rescuer. His eyes raked over her, taking in her every feature, something which he hadn't thought to do before. Her dark hair was cropped short, framing her face, even if it was too short to actually fall into it. It was cute, though he had a fleeting thought that long hair would suit her just as well. She was of about average height, possibly taller, with a slender, almost delicate looking figure. The blue of her sweater was bright against her pale skin.

All thoughts of Kathryn left his mind as her kind hazel eyes met his. There was a sadness that seemed to radiate from within which made his heart clench. Half-heartedly she quirked her lips into a quick smile, her eyes unwilling to leave his. After a long moment her eyes closed, her dark lashes brushing against her cheeks, breaking their connection. Her head tilted downward as he followed the path of her eyes with his, coming to a stop at her hands. They toyed with the simple, elegant ring that rested on her right middle finger, twisting it about almost absentmindedly.

Was she married? A feeling of dread settled in his chest at the thought. The idea of the hazel eyed beauty being married hurt more than he cared to admit. What confused him though, was the contradictory feeling of relief; the sight of the ring, not just any ring but that ring, brought about an emotion that felt almost like...joy? He couldn't understand it, why the sight of the expertly crafted band affected him as it did made no sense. But there was something….Something about the way the silver glinted in the light, the way it fit perfectly on her finger that struck him as familiar.


I'd like to thank all of you who reviewed, it was nice to know you liked it. I decided to continue with this, hopefully, this will be just as good as the first one or at least come close. Unfortunately this wasn't quite like the last one, but now that he's awake there wasn't much I could do about that. Depending on the kind of reviews I get, I may continue with this. It might be a while, considering I have to wait for Once Upon a Time to give me something to go off of.