Two chapters in less than two days? Savor it, for the inspiration comes and goes – it's out of my control. Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and reviews! Specifically, I wanted to address a couple of reviews left by guest(s?) – Neal will make an appearance but though I am also a Swanfire fan, we've got a Captain Swan endgame for this particular fic. And yes, Emma's a little leery of Gold. They'll be buddies, though – despite the fact that he's an asshole, Gold does have a soft spot (sometimes) and it'll show through a little. And yes, I am making the curse work a little differently – it hasn't been the exact same day repeating for 28 years, but rather the same week (ish). So there's a little more variety to what the residents are doing, but everyone is still stuck in stasis. And no, I'm not doing the whole Kathryn arc for this fic – I didn't really like it in the show, and I am going to endeavor to make David Nolan a little less irritating and more likeable than he is in canon.

Anyway, on with the story!

The moment that Dr. Whale entered the hospital - at around six Thursday morning – he knew it was just going to be one of those days.

Granny's coffee maker was on the fritz. Whale could not think of a single time, ever, when that had happened, and he'd lived in Storybrooke for...well. A long time. He was a regular customer at the diner, needless to say, and even Ruby's normally ever-present smirk was gone as she broke away from an irate looking man at the counter to tell him that there would not be any coffee, and yes, she was sure, and also sorry.

What was Whale going to do? Pitch a fit? He merely nodded, before any opportunity he might have had to say anything was taken by the growly voice of the angry counter guy. Leroy, Whale thought his name was – a miner, or construction worker, or something. Regardless, Whale had had to resort to the hospital cafeteria sludge in place of his regular cup of coffee, and was already feeling the headache building.

''Morning, Jaina,'' he greeted the new nurse, offering her a wink as he passed her station. ''How are - ''

From where he'd clipped it on his waist, his pager began beeping unexpectedly at an inhuman pitch, causing him to slosh hot coffee down his hand in alarm, narrowly missing his white coat. ''Damn it,'' he snarled, groping blindly for the stupid thing with the hand that wasn't being burnt by hot liquid. It took a good five seconds to locate it and hit the button that made the beeping stop, but that wasn't the end of it – oh, no.

''Doctor!'' His head nurse's voice pierced through the tinny speaker, barely pausing for breath as she started up. ''Doctor Whale, you're needed in the LTC wing, stat – we've got...well, that coma patient. The John Doe. He's awake.''

Now, Whale had seen a lot during his time in the medical field – a lot of strange, painful, weird shit, but clearly he was losing his touch or something because at the words 'coma patient' and 'awake' he'd nearly spat out what little coffee he hadn't burnt himself with and was already halfway down the corridor, finishing the last of the horrid tar in a few hot, burning gulps before pitching the flimsy cup in a random trash can and thwacking the elevator button as hard as he could.

What a morning. Whale stared at the red patch on his hand where he had spilled his coffee. His only coma patient was awake – awake after, what, fifteen years? Longer? It had been a long time, and the only reason no one had pulled the plug was because of the Mayor. Regina Mills had a will as strong as iron, and Whale knew that while her eyes may have been brimming with tears at the thought of simply letting the John Doe fade away, she'd more than gladly take Whale down more than a few pegs if he dared do it anyway.

And so, John Doe slept, still breathing against all odds, pale as a ghost in room two twenty five. God, Whale was not looking forward to this mess.

The elevator dinged and he stepped off, striding purposefully down the hall and only slowing when the room's door was in sight. Already, voices could be heard from inside, and Whale took a moment to breath, bracing himself, before opening the door.

Honestly, he shouldn't have been surprised to see Regina there. Of course she'd be there. It was only his patient in his hospital, and six o clock in the fucking morning, why wouldn't she be there?

''Good morning, Mayor Mills,'' Whale said, smiling warmly at the woman who appeared to be going toe-to-toe with the nurse, if their equally hateful expressions were anything to go by. ''And hello, Mr. Doe. How are you feeling?''

John Doe was sitting up in bed, looking at the mayor and nurse as though he wasn't entirely sure whether or not he wanted to get in the middle of whatever they were fighting about. Whale couldn't blame him.

''I'm, uh...fine. I guess. I feel good.''

His voice was scratchy, as if he'd only just woken from an eight hour nap rather than a decade plus one.

''Do you know who you are?''

The thing was, Doe had turned up out of nowhere – it couldn't have been too long after Whale himself started working at the hospital. Mayor Mills had found a body at the side of the road on her way into town, and upon further inspection, no one seemed to know what to make of him. No ID, and not a single person in town came forward to claim him, though there had been a spread in the paper for weeks with his photo in it – if anyone did know him, they'd kept quiet about it.

''Doctor, this man is clearly traumatized,'' Regina began before Doe could even open his mouth, ''he hasn't even been awake for an hour and already he's being interrogated!''

Summing his patience, Whale opted for his most placating, soothing voice as he turned towards Regina. ''Mayor, as head physician I am obligated to care for this man, both physically and mentally. I cannot do my job if I don't have some basic information - ''

''I was hoping that I could have a moment with him,'' Regina said, effectively cutting Whale off mid sentence, and offering him a small smile. ''I – well, I suppose I feel a connection to him...all those years ago, we were all so young, and I was the one to find him...''

''My name is David.''

If one were to go by only the expression on Regina Mills' face, they would have assumed someone had just aired a nasty bit of gossip about her, or told her that she smelled less than sweet. However, Doe – David's – four words appeared to be enough to provide much the same reaction as either of the above scenarios might. Whale could have watched Regina's poorly concealed sneers all morning – they provided a mild form of entertainment from time to time- but professionalism called him, and he angled himself towards his patient, grabbing a clipboard from a table near the bed, and arching a brow. ''Just David?''

''Nolan. David Nolan. I'm...I live here. In...''

''Storybrooke?'' Whale supplied, after a few moments of silence passed. ''What's the last thing you remember, Mr. Nolan?''

Brow furrowing, David stared at the bedspread, seemingly lost in thought. ''I - I don't know, I remember the cold, and some kind of rushing noise, like wind, or -''

''The cars on the road,'' Regina inserted helpfully, flicking her eyes between David and Whale. ''I found you, David. On the side of the road, unconscious.''

''Road?'' Frowning, David looked up at Whale. Already his eyes were sharp and alert, and there was something about them that made Whale linger – this man was questioning the Mayor. Somewhere along the line, their stories didn't match up. Whale wondered if David would divulge anything more with Regina in the room, subtly editing his every word as he spoke.

''Yes, David. I brought you straight here, and you haven't woken since. Until now, that is.''

''Mayor Mills,'' Whale cut in, scrawling a few things onto his clipboard before replacing it on the table. ''It's been a...hectic morning for Mr. Nolan. I'm afraid I must ask you to leave so that he can get some rest.''

Regina looked as though she were going to fight it. Honestly, Whale hoped she wouldn't; it was early, and the lack of coffee really was getting to his head.

To his surprise, she merely nodded, and stood, coat slung over her arm. ''I'll stop by again later,'' she promised, leaning down to place a hand on David's shoulder and look into his eyes. ''Get some rest, take it easy.''

David nodded once, and Regina departed with a final soft smile in his direction.

''Nurse, can you get me some applesauce? Oatmeal would be good too, and water, of course.''

As the nurse left, Whale took the opportunity to pull up a seat near the bed, sitting down, and contemplating David quietly. ''So, Mr. Nolan. You don't remember anything other than a rushing noise?''

''Was that...the Mayor?''

Whale nodded. ''Indeed. Our own Mayor Mills. Longest in office that we've ever had anyone. I think she was just starting out around the time you got here.''

''When was that?''

''Oh...ten years, thirteen? Quite some time. You've been asleep for years, David. Do you remember having any family here?''

Slowly, David shook his head. ''I think – I mean, I don't remember them here. I don't really remember here, Storybrooke. It's like a dream.''

The more he spoke, the more troubled David was beginning to look, and so, wisely, Whale stood, pushing the chair back to the corner.

''I know you've been in this bed a while, but I need you to eat, and then rest. Your body hasn't been mobile for far too long, and it's going to take a bit of time for you to recuperate.''

What was it...Thursday? Friday? It had been a little while now since Mary Margaret Blanchard had been by. Not since she'd claimed David's hand had moved, which had to have been at least a week ago. Hm – interesting. Had that been the first sign of movement? A prelude to today? Whale felt a small prick of guilt at his skepticism towards Mary Margaret. He'd have to make it up to her somehow. Maybe now was the time to ask her for dinner at Granny's...

Shaking his head from his thoughts, Whale made for the doorway. ''The nurse will bring you up a tray. I'm going to go pull some files and look into a few things, you just stay here. Eat, doze, think back. I'll be in to check on you later.''

Tucking his pen back into his pocket, Whale offered one last patented reassuring smile to his patient, before leaving in search of the records room. Nolan, David. He'd have to see exactly what had been put on that file all those years ago – there was more to David Nolan than met the eye. He remembered more than just what he was saying, Whale could tell. What it was he remembered, however, remained to be seen.

Regina's heels clicked against the cold, leaf strewn concrete, and her trademark scowl had been affixed to her face for at least five minutes now. That insolent slug, Whale – he was going to poke. And meddle, and ask questions that didn't need to be asked, not now, not after all this time. Sixteen years, and all of the sudden Storybrooke's resident prince wakes up from the nap of his life.

It was all just too strange.

And Regina had sworn she'd seen headlights late last night – too late for anyone in Storybrooke to be driving around. Perhaps it had just been a trick of the light. But it was all too unsettling in conjunction with the morning's events.

Rounding the corner to the main street, Regina contemplated breakfast – it was nearing seven AM, and coffee was sounding better and better by the moment.

And as though leaving the newly awakened Prince Charming alone in the hospital with Whale wasn't a bad enough start to the morning, a loud tolling began, very suddenly, from somewhere above Regina's head.

If she were a lesser citizen she may have panicked. Or, if the morning hadn't been going the way it was, she might have been confused.

But no. Oh, no, Regina Mills wasn't confused. She was cycling somewhere between fury and horror, frozen still on the sidewalk, eyes fixed on the clock tower across the street.

The clock tower whose clock hadn't worked in...well, sixteen years.

The clock tower whose clock had just chimed seven AM.

''Oh, dear,'' Regina murmured, the subtle shaking in her voice belaying the seemingly serene words. Yes, this could be a problem, indeed.

A mere few blocks away, Emma Swan woke to the sound of distant but loud chiming, drowsy from where she was buried in a soft bed with a thick duvet covering her. Was it going to be that loud every morning? It chimed for the seventh time, and somewhere in her mind, Emma was vaguely curious. Hadn't that clock been off last night? Oh, god – was she going to oversleep on her first day in a new home? As if on cue, the grandfather clock she'd seen in the hall downstairs chimed seven consecutive times, putting to rest the rapidly building panic in her chest.

Yawning, Emma turned her back to the window, closing her eyes. One more hour, and she was up – it was still far too early for her to think yet.