*Annoying Author's notes: just a few things-

I got a guest review complaining that this was an anti-Snowing story: No. This isn't an anti-anything story. 1) it's just for funsies. 2) I'm writing from a lot of perspective, and every character has opinions on the others, so it may sound negative, but that's the character, not me. 3) if there's anything you want me to include-be it, a scene between two characters, an idea for a plot twist, whatever-you can message me. i love hearing from readers, and feedback is awesome. plus, i friggin' love you guys, so i'm open to requests.

OKAY, BYE.

Whale stared at the ceiling, barely registering his alarm clock obnoxiously beeping. How had he gotten himself into this situation, into this impossible situation?

Henry had shown up at his door at four in the morning, his clothes streaked with mud, a panicked expression on his face. "Dr. Whale?" he had said shakily, sounding more scared than Whale had ever heard him. "I, uh… I did a thing."

"Henry, do you know what time it is?" Whale said, wincing at the glare from the outside lights. "Come on, kid, I got rounds to make in a few hours."

"Trust me, you're going to want to see this," Henry said breathlessly, and yanked a tall figure by the arm onto the porch. Whale blinked several times, certain that his exhaustion was making his mind play tricks on him.

It was Sheriff Graham.

"But—" Whale felt his heart clutch as his throat closed. He forced himself to breathe in shakily, staring with wide eyes at a man who he pronounced dead four years ago. "How is this—Henry!" he gasped. "He's on my porch!"

"I know," Henry said, trembling. "He's alive. I-I-I brought him back. I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to bring him," he said, sounding close to tears. "I just thought—Frankenstein, dead Graham walking… I thought you could help?"

"But this is insane," Whale whimpered, going weak at the knees. "How is—what?"

"Just let me bring him inside, I'll explain everything," Henry pleaded.

"Can he speak? Can he think?" Whale asked, staring as Henry pulled Graham inside and brought him to the couch. "Is he—is he dangerous?"

"No, he's…" Henry shook his head, still stunned. "He's exactly as he was before. It's like he's been sleeping this whole time."

"But how?" he wailed, flopping into his chair. "This is madness."

"No," Henry said, taking a deep breath. "It's magic."

"I'm so confused," Graham said. Whale shrieked at the sound of his voice, drawing his legs up protectively.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God," he whimpered, putting his head in his hands. "He's sitting on my couch. He's actually sitting on my couch."

"I brought him back with the well," Henry said, not acknowledging the fact the Whale's mind was coming apart at the seams. "I think one of the vials I stole from my mom's vault had Graham's ashes in it or something, and it fell into the well."

"The well?" Whale said weakly, still staring at Graham, who was blinking around in confusion.

"Where things once lost are returned? It's connected to Lake Nostos. I think that's what revived Graham." Henry bit his lip. "But it only worked because I woke it up again."

"Well, why did you do something like that?" Whale said, nearly sobbing. Henry blinked rapidly, his eyes looking very shiny.

"I don't know," he whispered, his voice quivering. "I just… I had the book…and it worked…and then…" He looked at the sheriff, and gestured with a flop of his hand. Graham didn't look up: he was examining his hand, turning it over and flexing the fingers.

"You have to tell your mother. Or your grandfather. Or your other mother. Someone with magic, Henry, I'm just a doctor."

"No!" Henry insisted, standing up. "You're Dr. Frankenstein! You brought people back from the dead!"

"It didn't work, Henry, that was the whole point of that movie!" Whale cried. "And me, I didn't bring anyone back! It was Rumplestiltskin's magic that did it, not my science! Take him to your grandfather!"

"Please, Dr. Whale," Henry said desperately. "Just for few days, until I figure out how to deal with this. Please."

Whale sighed, rubbing his eyes. He didn't particularly like children,but he'd always had a soft spot for Henry. Maybe because he was the first kid to die on him, and he felt guilty about it, but either way, it was tough to say no to that face.

"Fine," he said at last. "Just a few days."

Henry broke into a smile so grateful, Whale almost didn't regret his decision. But now, laying his bed, staring at the ceiling with wide, terrified eyes, he definitely did.

"Dr. Whale?" There was a knock at his door. "I think your alarm's going off."

"Yes, thank you, Sheriff," he croaked. He raised a wobbly hand and slapped the snooze button. He'd get up eventually, but right now, he needed to lay here and regret his life choices.

By the time he had pulled himself together, it was light outside. He considered calling in, but then realized he'd have to spend the day with Graham. That changed his mind quick enough. As he poured himself a cup of coffee, he looked over at the couch, where Graham had slept: the no-longer-late sheriff was flipping through a magazine, a most serene zombie.

He walked toward him awkwardly. "Can, uh—" he cleared his throat. "Can I offer you a cup of coffee?"

"Oh, coffee would be great," Graham said, putting down the magazine. Whale nodded.

"Okay. I hope you don't mind drinking out of a foam cup. I only have—" he lifted his mug—"you know, just the one cup."

Graham raised his eyebrows. "You only own one cup?"

"Do I look like the kind of guy who has someone to drink coffee with in the morning on a regular basis?" Whale said irritably. Graham offered him a weak smile.

"Oh, come on," he said with forced cheerfulness. "You're a great guy…"

"I'm not, actually."

"I suppose not," he sighed.

Whale spent the day in a daze, with nurses chasing him to make sure he didn't accidentally kill any patients. Eventually, this hospital administrator called him in and told him to go home, before he got them knee-deep in lawsuits.

He didn't go straight home: he needed a drink before he went home to face a fucking zombie. He stumbled into the White Rabbit, taking a seat a few stools down from Hook and Belle.

"Little early for you guys to be drinking, isn't it?" he asked in a monotone.

"He's having a rough day," Belle said, nudging her friend sympathetically. "Emma stuff."

"No, it's Ruby stuff," Hook insisted. "She's a wolf-thingy, who eats people! I mean—" he looked at Whale wildly, breathing fast—"did you know about this? Did you know she turns into a wolf?"

"Yeah," Whale said tiredly.

"A fucking wolf?" he said shrilly.

"You're saying you're upset about Ruby, I think you're upset about Emma," Belle said firmly. "In fact, I think you should tell me about what happened last night, so we can get you past your Emma issues."

"Sure. Or you could tell me why you want Ruby's head on a spike, so we can get you past your Ruby issues."

Belle pursed her lips. "I don't like this game."

The bartender passed Whale his drink. "Thanks," he muttered, downing it. He waited.

Nope. He didn't feel any better.

"What about you, mate?" Hook said, leaning forward to see him past Belle. "You seem very distressed."

"Yeah, you want to drink with us?" Belle asked. "We were going to play 'Never Have I Ever'."

"That's okay, guys. I think I'm going to just go home and curl up with a bottle of vodka."

"We can drink vodka here," Hook said immediately. "I'll drink vodka. I'll drink anything right now."

"No, no… I think I'm going to take off." Whale got up from his stool and tossed a few bills on the counter. "See you, Vince."

"Who's Vince?" he heard Hook ask in a loud whisper.

"The bartender, you dumb jabroni."

"Okay, where did you pick up that word? You have been calling me that all day," was the last thing Whale heard before the door closed behind him.

He didn't remember getting into his car and driving home, but he must have because five minutes later, he was stepping out of his car and walking up the steps, staring glassy-eyed in front of him. How any of this was possible, he still didn't know. Magic was seriously fucked up, he decided, opening the door.

An unfamiliar smell wafted through the air. Whale frowned, sniffing. Was that… cooking?

He wandered into the kitchen, still frowning in confusion. This house had never had food cooking in it. Whale didn't know how to cook: he'd never had time to learn, choosing to content himself with Ramen noodles or takeout. But there was definitely something cooking now.

Graham was at the stove, humming to himself as he stirred a pan. Whale stopped, staring at the strange scene before him.

"What the…?"

Graham turned around. "Dr. Whale, you're home early," he said pleasantly, turning back to the stove. "I'm not nearly finished preparing dinner yet."

Whale sank into a chair. "You're cooking?"

Graham looked concerned. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I just thought you'd be hungry—"

"You were dead less than twenty-four hours ago and you're cooking?" Whale stared at him open-mouthed. "Are you real?"

"Er… yes, I think so." Graham hesitantly offered him a spoon. "Rice pilaf?"

Whale took the spoon, numbly staring at it. He looked back at Graham, unable to fathom his existence, even as he stood before him, humbly awaiting his opinion on the rice.

"Aren't you going to taste it?" he asked, smiling nervously.

Whale looked back at the spoon before putting it in his mouth. "Unbelievable," he said. "It's delicious. A dead guy made this, and it's delicious."

Graham's smile twitched. "Actually, I'd appreciate it if you stopped calling me 'dead'. I was dead. But as you can clearly see, I'm not now." He gently tugged the spoon out of Whale's grasp.

"But how?" Whale looked at him helplessly. "How are you here? I pronounced you dead myself."

"Your guess is as good as mine. The last thing I remember before waking up at the bottom of a well is collapsing in the sheriff's station." Graham turned the stove on low, and sat down in the chair across from Whale. "I didn't even know I had died at all, until Henry explained it to me. It's funny," he chuckled, "I didn't even recognize him at first. Last time I saw Henry, he was a little boy."

"Do you remember…everything, everything?"

Graham took a deep breath. "I got my memories back right before I… you know. Henry caught me up on Regina, but frankly, I still have my doubts on how much she's changed. I pity this Robin; from what I remember, she was a very difficult woman to deal with. He didn't say much about Emma, though." He looked at Whale hopefully.

"Oh. Her. Uh…" Whale rubbed his eyes, searching his brain for any of his nurses' Emma-related gossip still lingering there. "Let's see… she's living with her parents now… Henry goes between her and Regina…something about Hook and Neal—"

"Who?" Graham frowned.

"Her boyfriends or whatever, I don't really know the situation there. Uh, she's sheriff now, so I don't know how you two are going to work that one out. And uh… yeah, that's about it."

"Hook and Neal," Graham said slowly, as if trying the names out. "Hook… and Neal.."

"Yeah. Neal is Henry's dad, and Hook is some pirate guy she brought back from the Enchanted Forest because she thought he was cute, or something. I don't know," Whale shrugged. "I don't ask questions anymore."

Graham nodded, breathing in sharply. "I see."

Whale looked toward the pan hopefully. "So… how long does rice pilaf cook?"

"And Neal is Henry's father?" he asked suddenly.

Whale looked at him with wide eyes. "Yeah…" he said slowly. "But that rice pilaf, though."

"Is he from the Enchanted Forest? I don't remember any Neal's."

"He's Rumplestiltskin's son. So, that rice—"

"Baelfire?" Graham's eyes bugged out. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious. May I—?" Whale got up and walked to the stove. Graham swiveled in his chair, still talking.

"How does that even work? Rumplestiltskin is Henry's grandfather?"

"He's pretty mellow right now," Whale said around a mouthful of rice. "Ever since he got married."

"Married?" Graham's voice rose an octave. "To who?"

"Belle. Damn, this is good."

"Belle?" he repeated. "Who is Belle? I don't remember a Belle!"

"Well, you wouldn't. She was still locked in the asylum when you were kicking around."

"What?" Graham stared at him with wide eyes. Whale scrambled to explain.

"No, no, she's not crazy. Regina just had her locked in there to hide her."

"Why? That poor woman, that's—that's horrible! Why would she do something like that?"

"I don't know," Whale shrugged, spooning some more rice into his mouth. "She had her locked in her dungeons back in the Enchanted Forest, too. Wanted to hide her from Rumplestiltskin or something. Or maybe it was Hook." He frowned, trying to scrape together the story, then gave up. "I don't remember. Hook broke in at some point, but I don't know if he was trying to kill her or rescue her."

"And Emma finds this man cute?" Graham said disbelievingly.

"Uh-huh," Whale nodded, chewing. Graham sat back, looking stunned.

"I am so confused," he said, shaking his head miserably. Whale looked down at his curly head, rather pitying him.

"Okay," he said, setting down his spoon and retaking his seat. "Tell you what. I'll call Henry, and we'll see if we can get you up to speed."

"I might need flashcards," Graham said woefully. "And study guides. And diagrams. Christ, there's so much I missed…"

SO... FEAR NOT. THIS IS A LONG STORY. STILL NOT SURE HOW THIS WHOLE GRAHAM SITUATION IS GOING TO AFFECT THINGS, BUT TRUST ME WHEN I SAY EVERYONE WILL GET A HAPPY ENDING. PLEASE, HAPPY REVIEWS? SAD REVIEWS MAKE ME SAD.

COMING SOON: "THE RED VOW RENEWAL". (yes, it is a play on GoT, but no one's getting murdered by Lannisters, so chill).