AN: Wow so I suck at summaries, guys. Yikes.

Special thanks to abrokentardis for making my lovely cover photo for me! Go check out her OUaT Pan fic. It makes the hated Pan plot twist bearable!

Anyways, I am so excited to be writing the sequel! I can't believe you guys got me this far in the story. You're amazing. And beautiful. Go reward yourself with a cookie-no, TWO cookies. Annnnd now enjoy. R&R!

Warning: This story is rated M because it'll have some parts that are will be much darker than the first one.

Chapter 1.

"You have been charged with treason against the Queen of Wonderland."

My eyes glanced up from staring at the ground. Obediently, I was sitting on a small throne by my mother's side, wearing a giant, puffy gown that matched hers. Down the stairs that lead to our thrones, two knights held on to the arms of a figure with a dark green hood, who had kept their head down.

"How do you plead?" the Knave of Hearts asked coldly.

The figure lifted his head up to reveal blue eyes and a familiar smirk.

"Mm, guilty, I suppose," Peter Pan said in a mocking tone, as if the dramatics of the situation merely amused him.

I looked to my mother with a blank expression as she whispered into the tube that she used to communicate with the Knave.

"Off with his head!" the Knave announced.

I didn't so much as blink as the knights began to pull—


My eyes flashed open and I was greeted with nothing but a dark room. Shaking and sweating, my hand groped around the bed, looking for him to pull me into his arms and whisper soothingly to me.

The horrifying reality hit me. I was alone and he would never be there to hold me again.

I laid there, sobbing uncontrollably and repeatedly kissed the amethyst jewel that I've kept clutched in my hand for the past week.

These nights had now become my new routine. I'd lost count of the amount of times I've screamed and cried because that's all I did anymore. What else did I have to do?

Peter was dead.

Once the curse had hit me, along with the rest of Storybrooke, I had woken up in my old room at Sir Maurice's and Belle's castle. I was wearing a nightgown and my fancy, bright bedroom looked as if I had lived in there all of my life. Everyone treated me like I'd lived there my whole life.

But I remembered everything. When I woke up, in my hand, was the purple gem Peter had given me so long ago. The jewel had become my lifeline now and I never let go of it. It was the only thing of his I had left, my last connection to the boy I loved.

I had discovered immediately that my magic had gotten stronger. Too strong. Far too strong for me to handle. For the past week I've kept myself locked in my room, terrified that I might hurt someone by accident. Hot balls of fire would form in my hands and energy would zap out of my body and hit the first thing it could, usually myself or a piece of furniture.

The overbearing grief I had over Peter left me unable to control any of it. The stronger my emotions were, the stronger the magic. It had caused me to accidentally hurt myself plenty of times. Twice I had caught my bed sheets on fire while I was asleep. My body was now covered in burns, save for my face. My hysterical meltdowns had caused the magic to erupt out of me and destroy half of my room. I didn't have the strength or will power to learn how to control it.

I couldn't remember the very last minute before the curse hit. I vaguely remembered seeing a strange woman, and I did remember Peter giving me the jewel. But that was it. The rest had become an odd blur that I couldn't sort out. Our last precious moment was gone from my mind.

I couldn't even muster enough curiosity to wonder what had happened to the rest of the people I cared about.

I knew everyone believed Belle to be dead but I knew the truth, thanks to what I had heard Jefferson say to Regina from his car trunk. My sister, the Evil Queen, had her locked away in her castle. I could have told Maurice the truth, but only two things could come from that. One, considering the unstable state I was in, he would think I was crazy and in denial, which would end badly for me. Or two, he'd believe me and go to Regina and demand that she release Belle, which would end badly for him.

I couldn't just leave Belle there. But I didn't know what to do at the present time, considering I couldn't even think or speak without having a meltdown, emotionally and magically.

Meanwhile, Maurice, my "adopted father", had been desperately trying to find out what was wrong with me. He'd talked to me through the locked door, begging me to come out.

But I wouldn't let him in. My room was burnt and barely clinging on in tatters, including me. I was already scaring him as well as the rest of the servants. I couldn't add dangerous magic to it.

I didn't know where all this power came from, but it terrified me. I didn't even want the little bit I had had before.

When I cried myself dry for the time being, I didn't bother to try and go back to sleep. I went to my window and just stared outside at the second star to the right, wishing foolishly for the past week to just have been another nightmare.

My nightmares now always revolved around Peter being killed. A sick part of me welcomed them. It was the closest I would ever get to seeing him again.

He was gone.

Gone, gone, gone—

"Miss Amethyst?"

I buried my face in my knees. Olivia, my personal servant, had been as worried about me as Maurice.

Sometimes I wondered if they had codenames and took turns camping outside my room.

"Go away!" I begged her, barely able to choke out the words through my crying. "I'm fine! Please, just go!"

I heard her sigh sadly, but she didn't attempt to come in. She had stopped trying, finally. As did all of the servants. They simply left food outside my door, asked if I needed anything, and then left me alone.

I preferred it that way.

My fingers began to mindlessly trace the scar by my heart, the one the Lost Boy, Rufio, had given me when he shot me with the arrow poisoned with Dreamshade.

When Peter saved me with the spring water and told me he loved me for the first time.

I could see the disapproval on his face if he saw me now. The fight had completely left me and the girl he loved was dying inside. He would want me to do whatever it took to stop that from happening.

"I won't stop trying, Peter," I whimpered, cradling the jewel to my cheek. "I swear."

The next evening, when the ever persistent Sir Maurice came to my room, I allowed him to take me down to the grand dining room for dinner.

"I'm very proud of you for coming out, Amethyst," Maurice told me, beaming as we sat down at the overly fancy table. "This must be a sign of your recovery."

Which was an ironic for him to say, considering the world's most terrifying looking doctor was sitting across from me at the table with us. He had dark blonde hair and a strange gray tint to his pale skin. His eyes had dark rims around them, making it seem creepier as he mentally evaluated whether I was crazy or not. When Maurice introduced him to me, I nearly ran from both the sight of him and the name that I recognized.

I ignored him completely however. "Please call me Amy," I requested of Maurice quietly.

Maurice chuckled and shot me a curious look. "Amy? When has anyone ever called you that?"

I frowned and started to open my mouth but abruptly stopped. Peter had been the first to give me that nickname when I was five. Only my love with the pipes didn't exist in this world.

So neither did Amy.

"Never mind," I whispered. I could feel myself coming undone again. I swallowed several times, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat. The tears were threatening to spill out and my heart felt like it would shrivel up and die from the pain. I missed him so much I didn't know how I would ever survive this.

For a while there was an awkward silence, with only the sound of forks and knives scraping against plates. I took that time to pull myself together again.

Then, the doctor finally spoke up, "Are you cold?" I glanced down briefly at myself. I had wrapped myself in the longest, thickest dressing robe I could find in my walk in closet and I wore black, fingerless gloves on my hands. They were necessary to cover the burns that were all over my body.

"I'm very cold," I agreed softly.

He regarded me a smile that was a cross between psychotic and kind. "Why won't you let the maids in to light the fireplace in your room then?" he asked.

I fought the urge to glare at him. Sneaky bastard.

Instead, I stared at my plate and shrugged. "I don't really like fire."

"Fire won't hurt you if you're careful not to touch it," he pointed out.

Well the random fire balls that appeared in my hands begged to differ.

I sighed, desperately wanting to retreat back into my room. "I don't mind. The cold doesn't bother me, anyway."

"Are you sure?"

I hated the look on his face. As if he knew exactly what was wrong with me. This man had literally just shown up to the castle, claiming he could help figure out what was wrong with me. Maurice, being desperate, invited him to stay for dinner.

Personally, I just found it funny that he hadn't paused to wonder how the doctor had known about me. My condition was a tightly guarded secret. Sir Maurice was losing his touch.

"I'm perfectly fine," I said to the doctor sharply, shooting him an annoyed look.

"Amethyst," Maurice chided me gently. "Don't be rude to Dr. Frankenstein. He's only trying to—"

"Help," I finished for him. "I know. I just can't seem to understand why." I raised my eyebrows at him and smiled sweetly. "Shouldn't you be trying to reanimate a dead body into a monster or something?"

Maurice shot me a horrified and very confused look. I couldn't help but feel pleased. Living on Earth for seven years had at least put me at a slight advantage when it came to knowing certain things about the people here.

Frankenstein remained calm, though I sensed I had hit a major nerve. "I came because your condition intrigued me."

Now I paled. His own eyebrows had raised and the look on his face was way too knowing, a slight smirk on his face. I tugged the sleeves of my robe to cover my red, blotchy arms better. Then I met his gaze, daring the scientist to reveal the truth to Maurice and the servants that had been bustling in and out. To announce that I was slowly becoming a powerful, dark monster.

Instead, his eyes flickered to my hand curiously, which had been resting on the table.

"What are you holding?" he questioned.

I debated whether to ignore him or not but gave in, not finding any harm in it.

Slowly I opened my fist. "Just a gem," I explained weakly.

"I see," he said carefully. "Is it . . . important to you?"

Talk about the understatement of the century. "Yes," I said softly.

At least he didn't know the full extent of my condition. The overload of magic wasn't what was causing me so much depression and insanity, though it didn't help.

All I cared about was losing Peter. I felt my throat tighten again. Why did destiny bring us together just to tear us apart? I didn't want to live without him. It would be so much easier to just give up. To just . . .

No. I couldn't think like that. Peter would have been furious if he knew I even thought about it. I promised him I wouldn't give up.

I felt my heart stop as his exact words echoed back to me, for the first time since that day.

'I don't care how you feel after this curse or what happens. Don't you ever give up on yourself! Keep that stubbornness alive, got it?'

He had sounded so desperate. I could picture the terrifying anger on his face as he demanded a promise from me, avoiding my reminders that I wouldn't remember promising anything.

'I love you. Remember that.'

A whimper escaped me. Even when he failed, he was always a step ahead. He had known I wouldn't lose my memories. It was impossible, but somehow he had done it.

I didn't care how much it hurt. I would rather drown in the pain than ever forget him again. And he knew it. As always, he pulled through for me.

"Amethyst?" Maurice said nervously.

I shook my head. I could feel the magic coursing through my blood, needing to be released as badly as the tears that were blurring my vision.

"What's wrong?" the doctor asked, examining me as though he was waiting for something to happen.

What was wrong? I'd never feel Peter's hand stroke my cheek again. I'd never see one of those rare soft smiles he would sometimes get when he held me. He would never again raise an eyebrow and smirk whenever I tried to challenge him.

He was gone.

The composure I had kept all evening deserted me. I got to my feet and ran out of the dining room and into the hallway leading towards the stairs that would lead me to another hall that contained my bedroom.

Before I reached the stairs, Dr. Frankenstein caught up to me and gripped my arm. I yelped as his hand closed down on a particularly painful burn.

He let go immediately and gave me a hard, yet slight sympathetic look. "You should take off your robe and gloves so I can treat those."

I shook my head numbly and held my hands behind me back. "I didn't mean to do it. I swear it's not my fault."

"I know that," he said, almost gently.

"How? No one knows except me!" I looked at him desperately. "I don't even know how this fucking happened! I've got more power than I can handle!" My voice cracked slightly on the last word.

The twisted irony of it made me want to laugh. I was the only one with my memories, the one who knew at least the very basics of everyone's lives, but I was still the weak one here.

Dr. Frankenstein just stared at me for a long time. His sickly looking skin seemed to grow paler as the wheels in his head turned. His dark-rimmed eyes began darting anxiously around the room before finally landing back onto me.

"Someone else does know."

My hand clenched around my gem tightly. It dug into the blisters on my hands but I ignored the pain. "What are you talking about?"

He shut his eyes tightly. "I was sent here under the orders to pretend to be a normal doctor. I promised Sir Maurice I could make you a cure made entirely from science, and not magic. That's why he let me in to see you."

For a minute, I couldn't speak. I was shaking in anger, as well as some fear. Someone out there wanted me to be spied on. This person knew that after that deal to the Dark One, magic would be the last thing that Maurice would want to use. And after losing Belle, or so he believed, losing his adopted daughter to insanity was something he couldn't handle.

Well I hoped this person would be satisfied with Dr. Frankenstein's report. There wasn't much to see other than a broken heart and a blistered body.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my emotions in check. The last thing I needed was to burn the castle down.

"Why?" I finally asked, fixing him under a glare. "What does your 'boss' want to know?"

"About how much power you have," he said in a low voice. "And let me tell you now, it's a lot."

"How do they know about it?" I demanded furiously, taking a step closer. "Who the hell is it?"

His shook his head and began to back away. "I can't say anymore. I'm sorry." His eyes ran over my covered body. "Try soaking in some cold water for those burns."

With that, he strode away back to the dining room.

I sat numbly in my tub. I had a personal bathroom in my room, which consisted of a dressing screen, tub, and, to my displeasure, a chamber pot. I truly missed indoor plumbing.

I hadn't even asked for it, but the servants brought up buckets of cold water for me and left them outside my door. I hated to admit it, but Dr. Frankenstein was right. The freezing water felt amazing on my skin. When I began to turn purple from the cold, I made myself get out and dry off.

I was in the middle of pulling a fresh white nightgown on when my heart begin to pound and a shiver went down my spine.

Someone was in my bedroom. I could feel its presence lurking. But that was impossible. I always kept my bedroom door locked up tight.

Hesitantly, I exited the bathroom and let my eyes sweep my room. No one was there. But it was as if my body was insisting someone was there.

I unlocked the door to the hallway and peered out. "Hello?" I called awkwardly.

Just a dark, empty hallway.

Annoyed with myself, I slammed the door shut angrily and re-locked it.

"Good job, destiny," I said sarcastically, all too aware that I was talking to myself now. "What more can you do to me!?"

I kicked a wall out of frustration and a strong force shot out of my leg and rebounded off of the wall, sending me flying back and into the opposite wall painfully before I dropped to the ground.

For a moment, I just laid there, slightly in shock. Then I began to move my arms and legs, assessing for any major injuries.

Satisfied that I hadn't broken anything, I let out an enraged yell. "Fuck you, destiny! That wasn't a challenge!"

Before I could stop myself, I was flailing around on the floor screaming. "I DON'T WANT THIS!" I screeched. "Just make it stop!"

I couldn't even have a temper tantrum without magic getting in the way. My window ended up shattering completely. When it did, it snapped me back to reality. I buried my face in my hands and forced myself to calm down, reminding myself that it wouldn't stop unless I made it.

I couldn't put it off. I desperately needed to learn to control it or I'd end up killing someone else or myself.

Clumsily, I got to my feet. The slam into the wall hadn't been too horrible, thankfully. The burns on my back weren't too happy with me and there would be some bruising, however.

In the back of my mind, I still felt the presence lingering around. I ignored it, knowing that I couldn't trust myself anymore.

Warily, I walked over to my bed to retrieve Peter's jewel. I had not held it in too long. Maybe that was why I was losing my mind.

I froze and my blood turned cold as I stared at the bed. I blinked several times, for once hoping that I was really going crazy and simply hallucinating.

My jewel was gone.