AN: Hello all!This is the first chapter Angelycdevil's birthday fic. She's impacent, I'm impaceint so I'm starting just a little bit early. I don't think she'll care too much.

Muches love to myherion for beting for me!

Chapter One

Broken Lost Things

My mother was fond of telling anyone who would listen that I collected broken things. There was the kitten when I was three. The turtle I found crossing the road when I was nine. On my fourteenth birthday, I tried to adopt an abused horse. I was always showing up on the doorstep, covered with mud, and carrying some poor creature that had been left in the cold.

When I was twenty-one, I was making the rounds through the pawn shops in the little college town I lived in. I found a broken cuckoo clock. It's bright paint had faded and the veneer was tarnished. It no longer made any noise, but the broken thing still had a spark of character in it. It's still hanging in my living room. Everyone hated it but me.

He reminded me of that clock the first time I saw him. His clothes were old and worn. They looked like velvets and the style was ancient. His coat nearly blushed the dirty sidewalk. He wore a tight waistcoat, and his shirt collar was unbuttoned. A scarf hung loosely around his neck.

He kept pulling on his fly away hair, an odd color so red and so bright, it was nearly orange. His other hand was fisted around a top hat as worn as the rest of him.

People on the street took out of the way paths to avoid him. He never seemed to notice. He just kept muttering and walking. He was soaked by the constant rain. I could see him shaking as he pulled that coat tighter around himself. In the warmth of my shop I got little gusts as the door opened and closed. It felt like ice.

As he started by my door, the same compulsion I felt for all lost things came over me. He was cold, wet, and likely lost. That wasn't a reason to shun him by any means.

I shrugged into my own jacket, braced against the freezing rain, and went outside.

"Hey, hey you." He didn't seem to turn around and acted like he hadn't heard me. "Excuse me? Mister?"

I reached out and to grab his sodden sleeve which, got his attention. He turned around, fixing his startling green eyes on me for just a second. In that split moment, I saw the madness swimming in them, and I understood why no one would look at him. It was frightening, majestic, and enough to you want to run away with your tail between your legs.

If you just looked a little deeper, however, there was more than madness in his gaze. There was sadness, worry, fear, and the echo of something else, something wonderful and free. Even more than the madness that took my breath away.

He didn't stay focused very long though. His gaze bounced, never settling on any one thing for very long. It was always moving, always changing. He never stopped muttering either. It sounded something like, "Must find her. Must find her. Must find. Must find. Must find."

"Hey." His eyes flashed to my face briefly before wondering again, but he at least stopped muttering. "Why don't you come with me. You can get warm and dry up?"

He didn't make any move of his own, so I tugged on his sleeve. He followed, one step after the other, as I lead him through my door. I sat him on one of the dainty chairs and went to make him some coffee.

He looked a little macabre sitting there in my bright candy shop. It made him look even more tattered and worn. He shook as he dripped water on the tile. That old fashioned top hat, which had likely once been very elegant, feel into the puddle on the floor.

"Why don't you take off that coat?" I offered, stirring sugar into a styrofoam cup of coffee. "You'll dry a little faster."

The man, eyes never still, managed to get the heavy coat off. He was still wearing a dinner jacket underneath, but I didn't figure it was worth taking another article off him. I did take the velvet coat, which weighed a ton, and hung it on the hook by the door. I noted briefly that the velvet might have originally been bright violet. It was an odd color to say the least.

I placed the coffee in the front of him, but he didn't seem to notice. He'd begun bouncing his knee, moving in quick, jittery movements. There was something about him. He'd definitely lost part of his mind, but there was method to this madness, an intent that I couldn't quite place my finger on.

For the moment he, was shaking with cold and dripping water on to the floor. First things first, I had to figure out who he was.

"What's your name? Do you know it?"

He met my gaze for just a moment, and then bit his lip. After a while he started muttering again.

"Name. Name. Name of a prince, a king, a reporter. A just guard. What did they all call me? They said I had small fingers perfect, for pulling needles. Don't tangle up the thread…"

He stopped, smiled, and said in a clear, crisp voice, "Edward. My name is Edward."

"Well, its nice to meet you, Edward." I smiled and offered my hand. "I'm Bella."

He stared skeptically at my hand while his eyebrows scrunched up over his eyes. Slowly and carefully, as if he were trying to remember an action not used on years, his damp, cold fingers wrapped around mine. "Bella?"

"Yes. That's me. I own this store."

"Bella? Bella. Girl with a pretty name is a pretty name. The flowers would be jealous. Bella should stay away from the flowers, or they might try to poison her."

Nonsense. Nearly every word from his lips was nonsense, but it was endearing in a way. It wasn't threatening, or at least not until the end, and even then it didn't seem like he wanted to hurt me.

"Edward, do you remember where you're from?" His face grew more confused. "Where is your home?"

His eyes grew dreamy, and his voice a barely heard, heavily accented whisper. "Home. The forest. My forest. The flowers, the twisted trunks, the droopy limbs. My home. Need to go home."

Edward was growing agitated. He started rocking, fingers grabbing onto his hair and beginning to pull. I had to get him refocused before he exploded. Though, he seemed nice, I had the suspicion that his mood could turn on a dime. "Okay, Edward, how did you get here?"

He became fully still, even his ever roaming eyes were fixed on a point somewhere behind my shoulder. "The looking glass." He whispered reverently. "I walked through the looking glass. Every door was opened and I came through this one. It's too straight though. Too still. It doesn't bend. It doesn't move. I don't like it."

He was tugging on his hair harder than before. His eyes bounced and the tapping of his heavy boots was stucco rhythm on the floor.

"Edward? Edward." Green eyes, overflowing with desperation briefly met my own. It was enough connection to keep him focused. "Edward, it's okay. You're safe. Just focus me alright? Right."

He stilled, but I noticed that he drew into himself. His shoulders hunched as he curled into himself. A sympathy pang in my chest made me want to reach out and hug him. He was lost and reality probably scared him. If I could just get the right information out of him, I could find his home. Someone out there had to love him.

"Edward, do you remember how you got here?"

He didn't answer for a long time. I knew that it would just make him anxious and a few customers walked in. While I helped them, Edward sat in his chair furtively watching the two kids bouncing around oohing and awing over the collection of candy. Thier parents glanced sidelong at Edward and stayed as far as away from him as they could. I was tempted to kick them out for rudeness, but I needed their business, so on they stayed.

When it came time to pay, the littlest boy had picked out a white stuffed rabbit. It was only as they were walking out that I noticed Edward had wandered over to a display case and had a similar white rabbit in his hands and was staring at it with intent. One long finger traced the ear, the eyes, the nose.

When he spoke again, it was soft and mournful. "I followed the rabbit. It was clean and it called to me. Then there was falling, and growing, and shrinking, and burning, and red, and hearts, and crying, and lavender, and weeping, and always always always always always the turning."

The more he listed, the faster he got until the words tumbled from his mouth in a rush that could barely be understood. He stopped suddenly and shook his head. When he spoke again it, had an edge sharp as a blade.

"No. No. No. No. That was the long before. It's not right. Mustn't remember. Mustn't remember. It was to cold. Supposed to be warm. Supposed to be safe. I broke the promise. So many promises. I didn't want to, but I had to do it. Had to walk through the glass. Had to find her."

I crept closer and realized that there were tears sliding down his cheeks. Whoever he had lost, whatever he had lost, it had broken his heart. It was likely the cause of this psychotic break he was experiencing.

I couldn't stand to watch him in so much pain. I touched his arm just above his elbow. I didn't think he would react well to a hug, but I wanted him to feel me. It might have helped to anchor him at least.

"Edward, I'm so sorry. What did you lose? Tell me and I'll help you find it."

He looked again at the stuffed rabbit. "My daughter. I lost my daughter.

Okay, so meet Hatterward. I'll explain more about the inspiration for this fic on Twifey's birthday. In the mean time enjoy!