[A/N: I just want to say thank you to everyone who is continuing the story from part one, and I hope everyone who reads this will enjoy it. I also want to say that the timeline and events will not match up with the TV series, and I hope everyone can overcome that, and just enjoy this little version of it. Once again, I do not own OUAT or any characters other than Keeva.]

The woman paced the floor in the dark, humming. She had long forgotten anything she knew. Severe amnesia, the doctors said. Violent, psychotic delusions, the doctors had also said. So she was placed in solitary confinement, for "her own protection."

"Jane Doe," a small door opened, a plastic tray was sat down. Snatching the man's arm, she looked at his watch before he hurriedly snatched it away. The meal was left where it was sat until a different orderly came and took it away.

"You'll never get out of here, will you, Doe?."

Then the dark returned. The static of silence buzzed through her mind. You feed the madness and it feeds on you. "You feed the madness and it feeds on you. You feed the madness and it feeds on you. You feed the madness and it feeds on you…."

Her legs gave way at the brightness of the room. White blinded her vision, blurring and distorting. Warmth dripped from her forehead. Hands grabbed and bruised her, binding her arms across her chest. "Take her," a voice commanded. Hard eyes met hers, causing another spew of hatred.

"Your magic will never be strong enough!" Trying to wrench her arms out of the binding jacket, she growled. "Rumplestiltskin will find me, and he will make you pay."

Those hard eyes came in too close, a smooth, icy hand touched her bleeding face. "No one wants to hurt you. You're sick, my dear, very sick, and we're going to make you feel better."

g the figures that strapped her to a table. "RUMPLE!" She shrieked as a cold, hard mask was placed her face, making the room spin and grow dark.

"You really do love that imp. Too bad you won't remember him."

She awoke in her cell with her head pounding and her body sore. She crawled to the back corner of the cell and shoved her hand into the mouse hole. Grime and dust met her fingertips as she felt for the delicate piece of folded paper.

Scrawled on the paper was, "You're not mad. They are." She clutched the paper to her chest, rocking back and forth on her haunches. Her body was numb and aching, and the act of thinking made her nauseous.

"A penny for a spool of thread, A penny for a needle. That's the way the money goes. Pop! Goes the weasel."

Her cell door flung open. "I'm here to save you." She slowly stood, her head dropped to side. "Do you know who you are?"

Her lips trembled, she shook her head. "That's okay," he grabbed her hands, "Because I know someone who does."

Her legs threatened to give away with every slow step she took. The man held her wrist gently as he led her along. She jumped at the loud, screaming metal carriages, her bare feet scraped against ice and drug though the snow. "How much do you remember about your past?"

She froze. Looking through the man and up at the sky. "Magic." She whispered, shivering.

"That's all?"

"A half a pound of tuppenny rice, a half a pound of it up and make it nice,Pop! Goes the weasel."

"Great." He sighed, stopping her in front of an odd building. "Go in there, tell the man, Mr. Gold, that Regina took you. He will help you."

"A good man?" Her eyes were fixated on the crescent moon.

"To you." With that, the man walked away. The sign read "Closed," but the door opened, and a tinkering bell sounded overhead.

"The shop is closed, can't you read?" Her skin crawled, as a man limped into sight.

"Regina took me. I think. Suppose to tell you that. Give you this. Who's Regina?" She dropped a piece of crumpled paper on the counter.