Full Circle

by fowl68

Hatter can still remember the first time he ever met Jack Heart. NOT SLASH. Some sensitive material

Disclaimer: Don't own Alice.

Author's Note: I just got through watching Alice for the first time. I don't think I'm the only one that loved Hatter, either. They did a fantastic job with everything and I want the purple coat.

I am, officially, sixteen years old as of last month. My brother was so kind as to get me a Jack Skellington fedora, which got taken away at school, but I got it back. Got to go to South America for two weeks, so that was fun.

And here…we…go!

-~-~-~-~

You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment unless you trust enough. ~Frank Crane

-~-~-~-~

He remembered the first time he ever saw Jack Heart.

It had been years and years ago, when they were both still growing into their limbs and Jack had wandered (or run away, Hatter was never sure) into the darker, poorer areas of Wonderland. Hatter had been hanging up the laundry on a request from his grandmother on the grass whose green had been fading ever since the Queen came to power, but was still some of the brightest grass outside of the forest.

"Lost, are you?"

The blonde looked up, a little startled. At seeing the slight boy with his mussed chestnut hair clipping a sheet to the laundry line, he relaxed a little. "Who are you?"

An arch of an eyebrow. "Not very trusting, are you? Name's Hatter."

"Jack." He knew better than to give out his last name out here. No one loved the royal family very much.

Hatter eyed him up and down, taking in the well-made clothes. "You're a long way from 'ome. Right?" He didn't wait for a reply. "What brings you down 'ere?"
"Got lost.'

"How many wrong turns did you take?" Hatter hangs the last of their socks before leaning his hip on the post that the laundry line is attached to.

"More than I can count."

"Hatter, who is it?" An elderly woman appeared at the back door, but there was nothing fragile looking about her. Her face was wrinkled and strong-boned, her skin browned from time in the sun. The silver hair was in a short braid and she had the very same coffee-colored eyes as the boy.

"Nana, this is Jack. He got 'imself lost."

"Hello, Jack." She turned on the other boy. "I thought I taught you better manners! You didn' invite him for tea!"

Jack cut in hurriedly. "No, really, it's very alright. I need to get home."

"If you're so worried about where you're going all the time, you're never going to learn to enjoy the journey. Come sit inside. You look like your feet are abou' ta come out from under ya."

Jack agreed meekly. She reminded him of a more maternal version of his mother. Hatter leans in and has to stand on his toes slightly to stage-whispers in his ear, "That's Nana Hatter. Scary, isn't she?"

Nana fixes a glare on the slightly shorter boy. Hatter just grins lazily and turns into what Jack is assuming is the kitchen. Jack follows and finds that the kitchen is warm and welcoming with well-worn counters and a window with slightly cracked glass. Hatter has to jump for the teacups and saucers in the cabinets while Nana brews the tea in a rusty kettle that has faded plaid designs.

Nana directs him to a rickety table with a vase of colorful flowers that are in no way arranged. Jack loves the flowers immediately for their disorganization, for their natural colors that are so different from the orderliness and stark colors of the casino.

Hatter flops in the chair beside him, offering him some biscuits from a small plate. Jack takes one, munching on it and finding it delicious.

A knowing smile spreads on Hatter's lips. "Good, aren't they? Nana makes the best biscuits ever."

Jack nods his agreement, mouth too full of biscuit to speak.

"This boy likes to kiss up to people. Watch for him." Nana warns him, setting two cups of tea before them. "It's hot."

"I don' like to kiss up to people that much." Hatter protests.

Nana rolls her eyes and sits across from them. "Now, Jack, why're you all the way out 'here? And we already know that you got lost. Before that. Why'd you leave…wherever you came from?"

"Needed to get out."

"So you ran away."

Jack frowns a little, but nods anyway. He doesn't like the way it sounds when she puts it like that, but that was essentially it.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, out 'ere ain't much of a place for someone like you. You should go home." Nana read the look in Jack's eyes. "But, should ya ever need a place to escape to, come 'ere. It's a safer place than most and we'd be happy to 'ave ya."

* * *

Jack visited the Hatter household at least twice a month. He loved it there with Nana's well-tended garden and natural teas; with Hatter and his eccentricities and his general friendliness and honesty. There weren't people like that in the casino.

The first time Nana asks them both to go to the market, she tosses hats to the both of them. For Hatter, it's because they'd long ago given up on getting his hair into any semblance of order and the hat would cover it and as for Jack, it would help him look more like he belonged.

The market was an astounding place with jewelry glittering in the sun and all sorts of knick knacks in the stalls. Artists hung their work; nearly all of the pictures depicted Wonderland as it might have been before the Queen of Hearts came into the picture. Hatter stopped frequently when he saw a jacket or scarf he liked. They were all of various materials and colors, but when Jack asked him why he liked it, Hatter would point out something small that Jack had never considered for an answer.

Hatter held up a scarf whose colors were of autumn leaves. "Why do I like this one?" He echoed.

"Yes. It's…rather plain."

"Fall's my favorite season. Everything changes then. And," Hatter beckoned him closer. Jack obeyed and Hatter pointed to the material. "I like the pattern that the stitching makes."

As they made their way to the food stalls, Jack noticed that Hatter would look at everything with a critical eye. When they reached the fruit stall, the younger boy pulled out the shopping list that Nana had given them. Jack glanced over it and wondered why Hatter was looking at the list with pursed lips.

"Something wrong?"

Hatter held up a finger, signaling him to wait. Jack leaned forward slightly and read his lips. "App…" He was sounding out the words.

"You don't know how to re-"Hatter's hand was immediately over his mouth and the dark eyes glared a little at him. With seemingly little effort, Hatter pushed him away from the crowds.

"'Y can't be sayin; stuff like that out loud. It lets people know that they have some sort of advantage over you."

Jack frowned a little at him. "You could learn though."

"I am learnin'! But there's not as many opportunities to keep up with reading down here."

Jack thought of the library in the very back of the casino, small and not as impressive as he knew it could be, with it's dusty shelves and little-read books. "I could bring you books."

"From where?"

Jack wasn't sure why Hatter was looking at him so suspiciously. He told him so.

"Books aren't cheap. How is it that you-" Hatter's eyes glanced down at Jack's clothes again before saying, "And it's okay with your parents that you can bring me books?"
"They won't mind." Won't even notice.

Hatter shoves his hands in his pockets and shifts his weight before smiling thoughtfully. "One day, I think I'd like to see this place you live at, where there's all these books."

* * *

The next time Jack visits, Hatter isn't home. Nana's watering her garden and as he watches the flowers with their natural loveliness and this almost green grass, Jack wants everyone in Wonderland to be able to experience things like a garden and tea outside on autumn days,

"Mornin' Jack."

"Good morning, Nana." He doesn't think his good manners will ever leave him and Hatter's commented on it more than once, but if Nana suspects anything, she never voices those suspicions. "Where's Hatter? I brought him something."

"He went fishing. If you're fast, you can probably catch 'im." Nana points down the street. "Follow that down three blocks then take a left and keep going. That's where you'll find 'im."

"Thank you, Nana." Jack takes the stairs two at a time, nearly tripping a bit, and sprints down the streets. A little more than halfway there, Hatter's got a small can in his hand and a pole in the other and he's whistling one of his nameless tunes that he gets from Nana's little secondhand radio. He looks a little surprised to see him.

"You ran all the way 'ere?"

"Thought you'd want to see these." Jack holds out the small bag that had been thumping against his legs the entire time that he'd been running. Hatter cocks an eyebrow, but looks inside all the same. A fierce grin overtakes his face and his eyes are sparkling with excitement.

"You actually brought them!" Hatter shifts the pole to the other hand and pulls out one of the books, looking at the faded binding and yellowed pages with wonder.

"Of course I did. I said I'd bring them, didn't I?" Jack looks at the pole and can properly for the first time. "What were you doing?"

"Going fishing. Nana an' me felt the urge to have some fish today and I didn't have much better to do, so…"

"You don't have school?"

Hatter resumed walking and Jack appreciated the slightly slower pace so he could catch his breath. "There ain't no schools down 'ere. 'M lucky. Nana's parents used to be teachers back before the Queen took over and she teaches me stuff I think I'd learn in school."

Jack thinks over this new information quietly. He had his tutors most days. The days he didn't were the days he came down here, but he couldn't imagine what he'd do most of the week without being taught mostly pointless information.

Hatter gently pushes away some branches and spreads his arms wide, as though he's showing off some amazing new thing. "Ta-da!" The boat is small and wooden. The paint is peeling and the oars are short. But it's obvious that it's well-cared for, because the wood shines as much as it can and there are no holes. It's a sharp contrast to the boats that his mother's guards have sometimes, all gleaming metal and sharp angles.

"You're going fishing in that?"

"Nope. We're going fishing in it." Hatter hops in easily and holds out a hand to help Jack clamber in on his slightly less graceful feet. He's been taught to have poise and grace, but on smooth marble floors and long hallways, not the uneven landscape that Hatter likes to walk through and crumbling streets. "The way I figure it, you can help me learn t' read better and I can teach you to fish, since I doubt you know how."

Jack likes the idea and agrees as Hatter rows them out to more open waters. Willow branches hang loose and provide excellent shade as the sun creeps higher into the sky. Hatter balances easily on the gently shifting boat and shows Jack how to hold the rod and tips for casting. As Jack finds himself leaning back a little comfortably against the boat's side, waiting for a bite, Hatter sits beside him, cracking one of the books open. He reads aloud slowly and struggled often, but his problems were mostly with enunciation, not with understanding.

It's peaceful out on the lake, and Jack doesn't catch a single thing, but Hatter chuckles and says that it takes a while to get it. Hatter takes a turn and catches two fish before asking whether Jack wants to stay for dinner tonight. Jack thinks about back home with its glaring colors, while here it's surreal and warm and absolutely comfortable.

"Sure."

Hatter smiles and throws the line out again. He stands to reel in the fish, but as he's taking the fish off the hook, it flops out of his grasp and back into the water. Without thinking about it, Hatter shoves his hand into the water, groping for it, but leans too far and topples into the water.

Jack searches the water and laughs in relief when Hatter's head breaks the surface a minute later, one arm in the air with a squirming fish in his hand. The chestnut hair is flatter than Jack's ever seen it, but in no way is it neat. Hatter clambers back into the boat, breathing hard from laughing.

"You're insane." Jack tells him. "Why didn't you just wait to catch another fish?"

"That's absurd! Fishing is a contest of wills between the fisherman or fisherwoman and I refuse to lose!"

Jack's expression at the brunette's exclamation only makes Hatter laugh harder.

Nana's eyes narrow when she sees Hatter, still rather damp from his dip in the lake. "David Nicholas Hatter! What on earth did you do to end up in that state?"

Jack watches as Hatter's, David's, lips upturn in a sheepish, nervous-but-game smile. "That makes a rather interesting tale, Nana. See, there were these flamingos…"

"Boyo, don't go lying to me. Lying is the start of all bad things in this world."

"…Fishin'."

"I daresay you got your fish?" Hatter held up the three fish wrapped in some rather large leaves they'd found. She sighs and takes the fish from him. "Go change into dry clothes before you catch your death. Jack, go ahead with him. I need to prepare these fish and I need his twitchy hands out of the kitchen."
The boys obey and go to the back. There are no doors in the house, just curtains in rather wild patterns. Jack notices this. "There's no door."

"Is there some reason there should be? It is just Nana and me." the other boy asks, stripping out of his wet clothes as though no one else was in the room. Jack notices that David Hatter is rather skinny, and he can see faint outlines of his ribs. Jack's caught watching. "Somethin' wrong?"

"Not really. You don't eat much, do you?"

Hatter pulls on loose sweatpants and a dark purple T-shirt that looks a few sizes too big. "I eat what I need to. Nana needs the food more than I do."

Jack considers this, considers the great amounts of food in the Casino that's stored in the back. But he couldn't smuggle much of that, if any of it, down here. "How come you never told me your first name?"

He gests a shrug in response. "You can call me David if you like."

Hatter never tells Jack that he had a brother once upon a time. And parents. He's named after his father. And his older brother was killed by Mad March when he rebelled against the Queen in public. His brother's name was Nicholas, or so he's told. He can't remember him and his parents faces have become blurry over the years.

* * *

"What is that?"

Jack had come visiting only to find David in the kitchen, stirring at something. It strikes him that David's grown in the past years. He didn't have to jump for teacups anymore and they stood nearly eye-to-eye. When Jack moves closer and looks in the pot, he finds that he can't identify whatever David's cooking.

"It's stew. I didn't have chicken or noodles, so I put in mushrooms and herbs. Hopefully it'll be enough." Seeing the confusion on Jack's face, he elaborated. "Nana's come down with the flu. Hand me that bowl, will you? And this is what she always does for me when I got sick, so…"

Jack knows that his mother never did anything like that for him when he'd been sick those few times. He'd just curled up in bed and ate what he could until it passed. "Is it edible?"
David elbows him. "Yes, you cheeky git, it's edible. Difficult to believe as it is, I do know how to cook." He goes to the back and he can hear soft murmuring and Nana's unmistakable chuckle. He comes back and offers Jack some of the stew.

"I'll have some, but if I drop dead, then I blame you for my death by poisoning."

"Haha." David brings two steaming bowls of stew outside (he's learned enough about Jack's sense of balance out here than to trust him) and Jack follows with a tea tray. They sit on the grass with their backs to the garden wall and Jack pokes at the stew with his spoon before taking a small sip.

"This," He proclaimed, "Is positively disgusting." It's a lie, of course. The stew is actually quite good for what it is though it's slightly congealed at the edges of the bowls.

David rolls his eyes and says, "Then you make something better."

"Well, I suppose it doesn't taste all bad. If you like poison."

Suddenly, there's a glob of the stew on face and the first thing he saw after wiping his eyes was David smiling rather impishly. "That's what you get for makin' fun of my cooking skills."

It takes Jack a moment to process (He just threw stew at you!) before grabbing his own bowl and chasing after him, even as David jumped the garden wall and hid behind it, though Jack could hear his laughs floating over.

An hour later, the garden was quite wrecked with the two of them lying panting in the center if it all, but, Jack noted dimly, it wasn't the horrible wrecked that his mother's suits did. It was a kind of wrecked that spoke of innocent times.

David rolls over and moves lazily over to the tea tray, which was untouched by it all. He holds up a teacup. "Fancy a cupp'a tea?"

Jack nods tiredly and he has to wonder if this was what growing up with other kids would have been like.

* * *

They're moving through the market once more, and there are only subtle differences since the first time they came together. David no longer stands at the fruit stalls, staring at the paper in front of him. He reads with ease now, faster than Jack and he remembers more. They're tall in their nineteen years of age, though Jack's a few months older and a bit taller as well. David, while having grown, was apparently doomed to be slightly shorter. But he didn't seem to mind overmuch.

As usual, David goes for the scarves and the coats. And there's a new stall, with hats galore. David delights in trying on the various hats, from white and black pinstriped fedoras to a brilliantly bright green top hat that, when sitting on David's unruly hair, makes Jack laugh. David rather liked the flat boater's hat with its black ribbon and a tricorn hat that Jack told him made him look like a pirate.

It was towards the back of the stall, nearly hidden by shadows and coats, that David discovers a brown leather hat that is somewhere between a fedora and a top hat. He loves it immediately, but he sobers a moment later and puts it back on the rack for he has nothing to trade for something like this.

There's giggling and whispers and they both turn. There's a bunch of girls, perhaps four or five of them, all rather pretty, that are waving at them. Jack glances a little wildly at David, but either the glance is missed or ignored because David strolls forward, cool as you please, and spoke with them in a low voice. Whatever he says makes them blush and giggle some more. David flashes them a smile, one that Jack doesn't recognize, before turning away, and slinging an arm around Jack's shoulders and leading him away.

"What was all that about?" Jack asks. He's become accustomed to David's odd thing about touching people. David touches people without thinking about it and while the first few times that he did things like this freaked Jack out a little, he's not so tetchy about it now.

"No idea."

"What'd you say to them?"
"That I stole you from the wedding altar and we're eloping."

Jack's not certain if David's joking or not. He says so and David grins. "Me? Joke about something that embarrasses you? Never."

* * *

The first time that Jack meets the Duchess, he's twenty and he thinks that he hates her. She's pretty, no doubt about that, but it was the beauty of the casino, of its too-brightness, of its falseness and its never-ending patterns and hallways. Unbidden, he thinks of the Hatter house with its green-ish grass and it's laundry on the clothesline; of the fresh scent of flowers and tea and of honest laughter and afternoons spent fishing and reading.

It's the first time he stays the night at the Hatter house. Nana doesn't mind, but tells him that there's no spare bed for him. David speaks up and offers up his bed. He could sleep on the floor after all. Jack can't believe that they would do that, even after all the years of knowing them, even if they don't know his last name and all that it brings with it.

David's bed is quite comfortable, warm and fluffy with his multitude of blankets that he's bought at the market. David had only taken one blanket and a cushion before curling up on the floor. The blanket is in various shimmering shades of violet trimmed with woodland brown and green. His hair's even messier in sleep and when it falls in front of his eyes like that, he looks years younger. Younger even than when they first met.

The morning light streams through thin curtains and Jack wakes to find David still asleep on the floor. He pads around him and finds Nana already in the kitchen. "Baking so early?"

"T'day's a special occasion."

It takes Jack a moment to remember. It's November the eighth and David's twentieth birthday. "I need to go out for a moment." Nana's a little puzzled but she tells him to go ahead.

Jack's in the market before he knows it and searching for the one particular stall. There it is, with its odd top hats and brightly colored coats. He tells the shopkeeper that he wants the brown leather hat. He digs through his pockets and finds only the ring that he was told was his engagement ring to the Duchess. He trades it for the hat, though it's worth far more, and refuses the offer to have it wrapped in a box.

He sprints back to the Hatter house and when Nana sees what he's got in his hand, she smiles and doesn't say anything.

David wakes, as usual, wrapped in a blanket. The part that's new is that directly in his line of sight is a familiar hat that should have been hanging in a stall at the marker.

"Figured that's what you'd want. Happy birthday."

David turns and grins at Jack before getting up and hugging him quickly, easily. "You're brilliant, did you know that?" David settles the hat on his head and Jack's first thoughts on it were right. It did suit him rather nicely.

It was that night that they both went out to a bar, a tea shop as they called it on the streets and David hated that name, and it was the first time Jack had seen the bottles of emotions on the back walls. He'd seen them in the factory, but never out in public. David's fists are clenched and he sends brief glares at the bottles as he asks for a simple glass of water.

"I can't believe that the Queen of Hearts can do something like that. Drain oyster's emotions. It's one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard."

Jack agrees, but stays silent. David wasn't the type to get angry easily and now he was angrier that Jack had ever seen him. "…Have you ever met one? An oyster, I mean."

David shakes his head.

"So then, and I'm not taking the Queen's side for an instant here, how would you know that they didn't do things to deserve it?"
"Because the Queen doesn't do things to people who deserve it. She does the things she does to amuse herself." A pause and then, "Her suits killed my parents."

Jack hates the look on his friend's face, hates the hatred and anger. "Let's get out of here. If I'd known it'd make you upset, I wouldn't have brought us here."
David agrees and they leave, but Jack doesn't follow David home. He's been gone a day and two nights. He needed to get back.

That night was the first time he got caught coming back.

* * *

It's not a week later that his mother asks him to bring Mad March to her. He obeys because he has no choice, because he knows that she'd kill him in a heartbeat if he was a traitor. He stays for her order to Mad March, as he always did. When he heard the coordinates of where the target was, his heart froze and plummeted.

He leaves the room as soon as he can and takes a flamingo to try and make it. He's flying low, skimming the lake where he and David had fished and read, the street where the market was. He stumbles off of the flamingo and can only stare in horror. The Hatter house is up in flames and Mad March has David trapped with his arms behind his back. And there, on the ground, fallen during the brawl, was the brown hat.

By chance, David's eyes meet his own. One eye is nearly swollen shut. He relaxes for a moment before whirling, freeing one hand, and swinging a punch with all his might at Mad March. Jack stares as Mad March is on the ground three feet away from the force of the blow. David is staring at his right hand, the one that had thrown the punch, before coming to his senses and making a break for it over the garden wall.

He freezes when a nine of spades moves into view and holds up a familiar head. Nana's. Jack remembers the order with chilling clarity. Find them and when you see them, it's off with their heads.

David snarls, a sound that's purely animalistic and full of rage and pain and charges at the man. For a moment, he forgot that he was only twenty years old, slender with no professional skills at fighting and that the nine of spades is a trained killer and at least as decade older. All he knew was that, in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to break his neck.

Mad March snatches David by the collar and throws him to the ground. He surged to his feet, rushed at him again and was once again struck down. And again. And again.

When at last he couldn't get to his feet, he pulled himself along the ground towards Mad March, eyes filled with loathing. The nine of spades dropped Nana's head, kicking it into the burning house.

That got David to his feet. This time, when he charged, he was met with a blow from the butt of a gun, a blow that brought him to his knees. He stayed on his knees, but tried to punch him, claw him and finally just braced himself against the ground, crying.

Jack finally found his voice, though it sounded hoarse and very small to his ears. "Stop this!"
Everyone turned to him. "Your Highness." Mad March said. "What are you doing here?"
He could see David's lips moving. Your Highness?

"Leave him. I'll take care of him." Jack strides across the grass, no longer greenish but dry browns and yellows and yanks David to his feet. "You did what you were ordered to do. Leave."

"Yes, sir."

The suits all leave and David doesn't wait for them to be out of hearing range to deck Jack in the face. "You son of a whoring bitch!"

Jack is a little afraid of this David. He's all dark rage and betrayal, the eyes that had always reminded Jack of coffee darker nearly than black. Despite the bruises, cuts and what Jack is positive is a broken rib or two, David still has the strength to send him sprawling, like Mad March, several feet away.

"What in all the hells are you?" Jack noticed the wording. Not who was he. What was he.

"My full name is Jack Heart."

David is swaying a bit now, a hand on his ribs, but there's no diminishing those flames in his eyes. "So what was all this? Play at being street kid awhile to find victims for your dear mum?"
"I never chose to be her son!"

"Well you're not exactly doing very well at hiding that fact! Just now, you acted just like anyone of her bloodline would. Like a betraying, using piece of filth."

Jack is on his feet now, anger being another fuel on the fire of why he didn't do anything before. "I didn't betray you!"

"No? Then what's all this?!" David gestures wildly behind him at the burning house. "You're the reason Nana's dead!"

Jack flinched.

"How's it feel, Jack, to see you and your mother's handiwork up close? Do you lie to all your victims or just the ones you feel like hurting the most?"
"You were never meant to be a victim!"

"Words lie, Prince. Blood doesn't. You don't kill someone like this on accident. And how convenient is it that you arrived, not in time to warn me, but in time to watch the show?"
"I couldn't—"

"Did you enjoy jerking us around on your chain?"

"No!"
"Did you enjoy playing us like puppets on strings while you planned to kill us?"

"I didn't!"

"Did you enjoy playing poor rich boy while the rest of us struggled for what we had? While we went through our lives and you got to play along?"

"David, please—"

"Did you?!"

"Yes!" Damn it all, yes! I liked being part of something down here! I liked getting out of the casino and seeing normal people and normal things!"
David shook his head. "You butchering son of a whore. I can't believe I ever trusted you." He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the brown leather hat where it lay.

* * *

It wasn't long after that that Caterpillar contacted him and asked him to be an insider in the casino. It was around the same time that a new tea shop opened, run by someone whose name was just Hatter.

And it was six years after that that she fell into their world. Quite literally.

"Who are you?"

"A friend. I hope." Hatter observed her carefully. She dressed a little oddly, not that he could really talk. Red tights, blue dress that was a bit short and boots. "I run the tea shop."

The red handkerchief slipped off and exposed the skin turned emerald. He rises out of the chair, comfortable, white and modern; nothing like Nana would have, and asks how she escaped from the Scarab. It was quite genius, really. Something as simple as a hair pin.

"What is this place?"

"Oh, Wonderland." She won't believe it, but there's nothing he can do about that. She even says something about kids' stories. "Does this look like a kids' story to you?" If it did, she was more naïve that he thought. Luckily for her, she said no. That earned her a brownie point. "It's changed a lot since then."

He observed the emerald mark. She was indeed an oyster and not a Wonderlander with a bad sense of humor who had tattooed it on.

"Ratty here thinks you're Alice. Of legend." He kept his hopes low, knowing that it was a very slim chance that it was her. "She can't be her. Oysters don't even live that long."

"I still want a good price."

"Hey! I am not for sale!"

Hatter holds up a finger for silence, though he likes that fire in her. Then he turned and walked towards his desk. "Not on the grass." He commands over his shoulder. It had taken him a long time to find a place where healthy grass still grew that was close enough to the city to open up a tea shop. And he'd tended the grass and the flowers well, just like Nana used to do with the garden outside of their home. It sickens him to have the products that the casino makes in his tea shop, but it's the only way to keep suits out o the place. "Here we are. Pink nectar. Filled with the thrill…of human excitement." He recites the information like he used to recite Nana's poems, when she had him learn them. "Fifty oysters were drained of every last drop of hullabaloos that you, Ratty, can…taste…what it feels like to win. Just once."

As Ratty grabs for it, Hatter pulls his hand back. "Warning. Don't take it on an empty stomach and only one tiny little drop at a time; otherwise the experience might burst your shriveled little heart. Got it? Good. Go."

"His name is Jack Chase." His heart skips a half-beat at the first name, though he knows that Jack Heart is not the only Jack in the world, this one or otherwise, it still hurts a bit every time.

"I see." The tea, proper tea mind you, not that emotion rubbish that he sold to the customers, doesn't smell quite right. He's let it steep too long, but he takes a sip anyway. He's taken a liking to this girl, Alice. She's refreshingly honest and has a passion to her somewhere. He takes his purple coat, one of his favorites, and offers it to her. He can't help flirting with her a bit, but she didn't react as expected.

It hurt him that people didn't trust his word. He had always been one of the most honest people in Wonderland and he'd hoped that Alice, being from another world, might have a bit more trust in him than Wonderlanders did. "Do you know why they call me Hatter?" No one, save Jack Heart, knew his name anymore. Last name or otherwise. For all intents and purposes, David Nicholas Hatter was dead.

"Because you wear a hat?"
Hatter considered it and found the urge to chuckle. It wasn't an answer he'd heard before. "No."

"There's nothing I want more than to help you find…" He couldn't quite say the name, hoping that he'd heard wrong. He hadn't and forced the name out. "…Jack and return you both to your charming world of children's stories."

* * *

The Great Library is everything he could have dreamed of when he was growing up. Books and scrolls lining the walls, nearly overflowing their shelves and mountainous stacks of them on the floor. He's hidden there more than one afternoon, curled in a forgotten corner with a book in his lap and a cup of tea. He's rather grateful, though he'll never say it aloud, that Jack had lent him all those books. He never might have gotten into the Great Library otherwise.

"We've all seen what you can do with that sledgehammer."

They haven't seen it all. He hasn't punched anyone harder than he's punched Jack and Mad March, but then, he's never felt a rage that would equal a third of what he felt that day. He reminds them of the food he brings them, the food he works hard to get. He doesn't often like to eat such fine foods; they never quite settle properly in his stomach, probably since he had never been accustomed to eating them.

"Wisdom is the biggest threat." Hatter tells Alice and he's reminded that it had been his lack of wisdom that had led him to trusting Jack.

"Your oyster is wearing the Stone of Wonderland."

His mind doesn't quite process it for a half second. The Stone? The one that could change everything? "That's impossible."

"Jack gave it to me."

Hatter can't help but be impressed. Not many people stand up to Dodo. He's an imposing man, broad shouldered and while not very tall, he had an authoritative presence.

The guns are out and that instantly makes Hatter tense and rather twitchy. He's never liked guns, even before Nana's death. "It controls the Looking Glass. You know that." Yes, he did know that. Hadn't he read about it in so many of the books here? It was the main objective of both the Queen and the Resistance. There's no possible way he couldn't know about it.

"Think about it! The Queen reduced to mopping floors." Hatter's never seen the Queen, but the thought is a pleasing one. As well as the thought of Jack doing the same that follows.

He's thrown backwards by the force of the bullet, but he's worn body armor for the past six years and the bullet is only slightly uncomfortable against his upper shoulder. He shoots off a gun that he keeps hidden on his person, another safety precaution that he doesn't like, but it's necessary. And while he may not like guns, they're on the same level as the emotion teas to him, he's taught himself to be a very good shot with one. "Leave her alone. Or the next one will go through your head."

Before this, Hatter's not sure he would have gone through with the threat, but something about Alice is making him work harder than ever before at helping someone. Dodo's blows are raining on him and while they hurt, he reminds himself that he's had worse. Of course, he never expected her to be able to fight or that she would come in and stop Dodo. No one had ever done something like that before. He clutches the brown leather hat closer, underneath the cover of his body, out of instinct.

"You're not even wounded!" She slaps the area that's already in pain, though not nearly as bad as actually getting shot, and he's sure that she's not helping the bruise that's going to form later.

Hatter tells her the short version of what had happened to the Knights with the Stone and the Looking Glass, all information that he's learned in the Great Library. "How did Jack get ahold of it?" It's the question that's been repeated since she got here and he

* * *

His smuggling boat wasn't the boat of his teenage years. This boat had a motor and was larger with fresh coats of paint. But damn if he didn't hate the motor when it wouldn't start.

"I don't know if you noticed, but my shop was ransacked. I'm homeless." Again. "I've only got one option. To go back with you. To your world." As much as he loved Wonderland, he was tired of the fighting, the playing for both sides. He was tired of memories and seeing all of the things that the Queen had destroyed. Maybe in the other world, it wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

Hatter finds that he loves the forest, though he doesn't venture there often. Everything's green there, green like the way Nana's garden used to be and it smells earthy and absolutely natural. He wonders if Wonderland was entirely like this once upon a time and why anyone would ever want to change it.

Jabberwocks are not Hatter's favorite creatures, but the one time he'd had to escape from one, he'd found that climbing up a tree, however clumsy his climbing was, was an excellent way of escape.

He'd never fallen into a trap hole before and he never wishes to again. It's rather painful on the back. And children's stories are running abound now, because a White Knight helps pull them out of the hole. The Knights had been the stars in the children's books that Jack had brought him when he'd first begun to read properly.

His first assessment of the man proves to be correct. "He's mad as a box of frogs. How the hell did you survive?"

"…And I dabble in the Black Arts now and then. Soothsaying…" Hatter's seen the fortune-tellers in their shadowy corners at the market. He had never stopped for them, but then, that kind of thing had never drawn his eye as the brightly colored clothes had.

"He may be 150 years old and dressed like a car crash, but he's a survivor." Hatter has to admit that she makes a good point. He appreciates survivors, especially in an age like this one.

There aren't many chances to ride horses these days, though Hatter rather likes it. It has its own rhythm and it's rather peaceful. It suits the environment.

"Welcome to the Kingdom of the Knights."

Hatter's breath is stolen from him at the sight. It could have been stolen from an artist's renderings in a book, though no mere painting could do it justice. It's halfway to crumbling rubble, true, and moss and vines have overgrown it and the stone is no longer clean and gleaming as it must have once been, but he can't think of a more beautiful sight.

* * *

"What happened to 'we'?"

"I can't leave, Alice." If he'd been able to, he might've found a way to leave years ago. "Wonderland's my home. I can't just abandon it, despite what I said. I have to stay and fight."

"Didn't that Dodo guy say he was going to hunt you down?"

"Yeah. But I figure if I show up with the ring, he might forgive me." He doesn't like the look on her face one bit and he hurriedly tries to fix it. "I promise I'll get you home safe and sound first."

"And Jack?"

He has to take a deep breath and look away from her for a moment before he says anything, but when he says the first things that come to his mind, he has to wonder if he's using the opportunity to talk aloud to himself. "You have to forget about Jack. We'll never get him out of the casino alive and trying will just set off alarm bells. It'll make your escape impossible!"

"So you were just leading me on back there?"

"Just believe me, it'll be suicide."

The fire is glowing, its crackling the only other sound in the still night. Even as Hatter stares at her, he tells himself that she is pretty. Not quite beautiful, for he's seen more beautiful women, but there's a down-to-earthiness, a practical loyalty to her that makes her outshine those other girls.

"…Jack's a lucky guy."

"What?"

"Nothin'." Nana always told him to never end a night with harsh words, so he tries to at least make a temporary, if uneasy truce, for the night. "Look, it's late. We all need our…rest. We can argue about this tomorrow."

The fence is not the most comfortable place to sleep; it puts his back at an uncomfortable angle and he's sure that he'll be stiff tomorrow, but it's close enough to the fire and he'd never minded sleeping sitting up much anyways.

* * *

Hatter hated the casino even more the moment he entered it. It was a very white place, with sharp contrasts, gaudy decorations and bright, flashy colors; imposing and far too easy to get lost in. The floor is far too smooth; he nearly slips several times running from the suits. The elevator is shimmering gold, and while he's never had a problem with the color, rather liking it, in fact, in such copious amounts, it tended to be a bit too flashy.

"You tried to cut a deal with the Queen, didn't you?"

"I was getting close."

"Getting close? Maybe I'm wrong, but negotiations didn't appear to be going so well."

"Well, I need more time."

"For what?! You really think the Queen is just going to send you and your boyfriend home?"

"No."

"No, of course not!"

"Because he's her son."

He freezes temporarily at those words, glancing at Charlie to see if he heard wrong. "…The Prince? Jack Heart? Jack Heart is your boyfriend?!"

He has more to say to her, but he finds that he has no chance to voice any of it because of the suits. But he isn't so easy to pin down as he was six years ago, though he doubts that they're the same ones. Then again, he could be wrong. They all look the same after all.

Hatter hasn't seen one of the flamingo machines in six years and the newer models are sleeker, though that doesn't stop them from looking like something at a child's fair.

"You don't understand. I'm not getting on that!"

"It's perfectly safe. Safe-ish." He doesn't have a thing about heights, he couldn't; not after living so high up all his life, but he does have a thing about flying on super fast birds that have no safety belts and he's also got a thing about bullets and being shot, something he tells Alice.

"How do you get it to fly?" Charlie presses a button that Hatter only hopes isn't self-destruct. His hopes aren't for naught as it shoots him into the air.

"Like that, I suppose."

"That's fast." Alice is shaking a little behind him and his insides aren't feeling quite up to the task of flying either, but he presses the button anyways.

Once they're fairly stable in the air, he has to raise his voice to ask the question. "I suppose it's his lofty air and graces, huh?"

"He doesn't have airs or graces." Only when he's pretending to be someone else, Hatter thinks.

He doesn't much appreciate being soaked after a crash landing in the lake while being chased by suits. It's not an experience he enjoys. "Where's the ring?"

"Safe."

"You still don't trust me after I just…I risked my neck, getting' you out of there."

"Why did you risk your neck?"

Nana had always said that there was one word that men always said when agitated or angry and he never thought he'd say it. "Unbelievable. Why're you bein' so ungrateful?"

"Your people need you and the Ring may make all the difference."
"Is that why you think I did this? To get my hands on the Ring?"

"Look, I respect that. It just shows you're a man of integrity." If they get out of this rather fine mess alive, Hatter was going to have a talk with her about what men of integrity are. While he's a little flattered to be called one, that's not a good reason, in his book, to be called that. "First I need to use it to get my father out."

"Your father?" He's heard nothing of her family in the admittedly short time he's known her.

"He's here."

Hatter doesn't like the look on her face right now. The look of someone years younger, a child, peeking out from behind Alice's eyes. "I don't understand."

"Jack slipped me his watch. Look, it's stuck on the exact date and time when he disappeared."

Alice stops dead at Hatter's expression, the smile fading slowly from her lips. She's seen him when he's agitated, when he's being charming and when he's just being him, but she hadn't seen him be so absolutely serious. "He's lying."

"Jack took a big risk slipping this to me."

"And you believe him?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because he's lied to you about everything!" He's gesturing with the hat now, something he hardly ever does because he doesn't like it too far removed from his head.

"He had his reasons." That what he'd told himself once or twice for a while after Nana's death, but those moments had been fleeting and were now long gone.

"I'm stunned. Why are you even defending him?"

"Because he's trying to help me!"

"Really? Well let's just think about that." He grabs her arm with just enough force to turn her around. Her skin was very warm, despite the cold water. "He took the Ring from his mother, he gave it to you. Why? It made you a target, Alice."

"Why's he even pretending to be someone else anyway?" He wants to know if he gave her a reason.

"He's hiding from them."

"Why?!"
"I don't know!" He takes an automatic step back. Hatter hasn't had a lot of chances to go up against a female's anger in such high levels like this, but his instincts tell him to do it. He calms his expressions and waits for her to do the same. She won't even look at him now. "…He's engaged. To a Duchess."

"So he's two-timing." Something else to add to the list of why, exactly, Jack wasn't worth his time.

"I don't think it's like that."

He doesn't want to argue about that anymore, doesn't want to fight about the personal part of it. "And now all of a sudden, he tells you that your father has been in the casino all this time? Does that not seem a little bit fishy?"

Hatter's doubly relieved to hear Charlie's singing. To end the fight and because, as much as he might hate to admit it at times, he's rather fond of the old knight.

"We should get off this beach before we get spied."

"No."

He forces his voice to relative calmness once more as he spins slowly to face her. "No?"

"Why are you still hooked on Jack?" It's the one question he wants answered because once someone betrays you like that, there can't really be anything else.

"I told you, he was trying to help me."

"Really? 'Cause it sounds like he was usin' you."

"And you're not?"
That stings.

"Don't you care what's happenin' here? All the people's lives who are getting ripped apart by the Queen? If we get to the top man, he'll help us."

"You know him?"

"Yes…No. Not exactly. Nobody knows his true identity, but he goes by a codename. Caterpillar."

* * *

"Good news. The Resistance wants to help. They're sending a special agent who'll take us to see Caterpillar."

"You're going to join them? Fight along side them?"

"I have to try. As Dodo said, I've lived my life playing both sides of the court. I made the Hearts think I was working for them while I fed their enemies." Only the King and Queen Heart though. Not Jack. He refused to work, or even see, Jack. "Those days…are over."

Hatter's surprised at their rather comfortable silence that reigns for a few minutes. It's a natural one, one he hasn't felt in over six years.

"What will I do? If I get stuck here?"

Hatter rakes a quick eye over her. She could get destroyed…broken, even, if she gets trapped here too long with Wonderland the way it is. "I'll make sure you're okay. I think your luck is finally changing." It's the easiest thing to lean in and meet her halfway, but he hadn't been expecting a half-forgotten voice to cut in.

"That's right, it is. Hello, Alice." Jack doesn't greet the man that he knew as David Nicholas Hatter. Jack knows as well as he does that that person's been dead for a while. But the man in front of him looks different from the one he knew. He's not nearly as skinny, though still slender and he's got a scraggly beard. His coat is actually a normal color. Brown leather. Like the hat from all those years ago.

The hat that's currently on his head.

Jack wonders if he went back for it after he'd walked away.

Hatter stares at Jack. Jack was in a black suit, rather ironic to Hatter's eyes. He looked confident and a little stiff in his own skin and there were some lines on his face that hadn't been there, but he's otherwise unchanged.

He immediately picks up a stout stick from the ground, twisting it in his hands to get a feel for it.

"You really think you can take me on with that?" Jack was the physically stronger of the two, there was no denying that, and he was the one with a sword, but Hatter had a survivor's mind.

"I'm not an old man."

"Look, nobody's fighting unless it is me and I am a black belt, remember?" Hatter can't remember her ever mentioning that, but he doesn't put the stick down.

"Who's your friend?" It's a question that would have been expected of someone who would have never met Hatter before.

"Just a friend."

Ouch. Hatter really shouldn't expect much more, but he should've hoped that they were a bit past that.

"Oh really? You two looked pretty friendly."

"You jealous, Jack?" Alice can't quite believe what she's hearing.

"A little." A little jealous of both of them. Alice had Hatter's trust and a comfortable home back on Earth and Hatter had Alice.

"Did I hear that right? The guy who's engaged to a Duchess is worried about me?"

"You know that was just an act."

"No, I don't." Because Alice knows that, whatever Hatter plans or thinks, he says to her if she needs to hear it. And he's told her his thoughts on Jack and she doesn't know who to believe.

Jack doesn't know what to say to that. He forces his mind back to the mission, back to Wonderland. "Come. I've brought you a horse. Let's get out of here."

Hatter moves instinctively. "She's not going anywhere with you."

Jack doesn't look back at him. "You know she can't stay here."

"Stop it, the both of you." She lowers her voice to Hatter before raising it again. "I need to know about my dad. Is he here?"

Jack looks back at her and he can see that Hatter is standing just close enough so that he'd be able to leap around her to protect her if he needed to. "Yes. He's alive and well and, if you let me, I can take you to him."

Hatter's biting his lip to keep from saying anything, though a voice in his head is telling him to chuck the stick at Jack. But Alice believes him, or she wants to find her dad bad enough that she doesn't care whether Jack is lying or not.

"Where is he?"

"We're moving him into the city. If we hurry, you can see him by nightfall."

"What do you mean moving him?"

"I have people helping me."
"What people?" Hatter takes his few steps forward, a casual movement had it not been for the tension in his shoulders and the evident distrust in his voice.

"Do you want to see him or not?"
"Yeah, of course."

"Don't tell me you trust this guy."

"He knows where my dad is."

"He'll say anything to get his hands on the Ring."

"He hasn't asked for the Ring! He doesn't want it! Do you, Jack?"

Honesty is supposed to be the best policy, but Jack hadn't put much stock in it before now. But Hatter could reveal anything else he knows, connected to the Resistance as he is, that could lead Alice to mistrust him. "Yes, I do."

Hatter doesn't seem surprised in the least at the confession. "It's just all an act."

Jack tells her that they need it to get her home, but Hatter makes a sound in his throat that he didn't quite know he could make. A sound of disbelief as he turns momentarily from the conversation.

"Don't be fooled by this, Alice. He's working for his mother. Blood and water, d'you remember?"

"Why aren't there five hundred suits at my back? And how did I find you in the middle of the forest? Following my nose?"

Hatter moves closer to ask his next question, hoping to be able to see a lie in the blue eyes. "How did you find us?"

"You sent for me."

Hatter blinked, and then blinked again. "…Come again?"

"I'm the agent that's supposed to escort you to Caterpillar."

"You want to overthrow your mother?"

"I've seen what she's done close up." Hatter glances back at him at those words. "And I know, perhaps better than anyone, if I don't stop her, she'll destroy Wonderland."

Hatter's logical mind starts taking over once more, the mind that had him joining the resistance in the first place. Jack had spoken no lies in those last few sentences, perhaps not at all since he found them. "…A Resistance insider and future king who's already scheduled your return through the Looking Glass who loves you more than anyone else in the world…or this man."

He hates it. Hates the way Jack's looking at him like he's another street urchin that's not worth his time. But Jack does make a point. Hatter has nothing to offer Alice, while Jack…Jack had everything to offer. Hatter releases the stick without a word.

"I wish you all the luck in the world, Alice."

She looks at him like she thinks he's being foolish. "You're coming with us, Hatter."

The twist of Hatter's lips was almost a smile. "I don't think I figure into the future king's plans."

"The Resistance will only help you on their terms, you must come alone."
"But Hatter stood by me." Alice protests. Of that, Jack has no doubt. Hatter could be an incredibly loyal person at times.

"It's for your own safety and your father's."

Hatter can see the difficulty that Jack would have of convincing her alone. "I wouldn't wanna go with this guy anyway."

"What will you do?" Alice can't imagine Hatter sitting back into that white chair in his office, content for things to just fall where they may.

"Me? You kiddin'?" He smiles; brief and almost reassuring. "I'll be fine. Believe me…you're better off with this guy."

* * *

Hatter thinks that he'll hate the color green for a long while after this torture. His mind tries to wander sometimes, but he forces himself to focus. Focus on something not related to the Resistance. It's difficult. He hasn't known anything but the Resistance for the past six years and he doesn't want to give them a tool by remembering Nana. Instead, he focuses on the books that Jack had given him, the passages inside them.

But the words and stories get jumbled in his brain. No correct order. "When is a raven like a writing desk? The clock's not ticking properly. Maybe crumbs in the butter."

"Tell me where the Great Library is." Hatter remembers that voice, though it wasn't so mechanical six years ago. Mad March looks down at the man that he can only vaguely remember. He remembers that this guy had a great deal of fight in him. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd crack." Hatter only glares defiance at him. "In that case," Mad March slips a knife from his sleeve, "There's no need to keep you alive. Twinkle twinkle, little bat. How I wonder where you're at. Goodbye, Hatter."

Hatter leans all his weight backwards on the badly designed (for torture at least) chair, kicking outwards. A chair isn't great for a knife fight (or was it a knife for a gun fight?) but he fights back as best he can, finally worming his right hand free and decking Mad March so hard that he goes flying into the wall, cracking it with a satisfying sound.

* * *

"Hatter, you're okay!" Okay enough to move about, though his ribs are going to be bitching at him in payback later. They make a good team, he thinks, though her skill at fighting, and knowing her temper, still leaves him a bit nervous because he has a talent for igniting that temper. "Oh my God."

Hatter frowns briefly in confusion before understanding what she was staring at. "It's just a few cuts and bruises, I'm fine." He assures her. But the hug isn't such a bad thing either. She's very warm against him, a pleasant change from the blasting air conditioning of the casino.

He almost misses the words that she half whispers in relief. "I thought you'd be dead."

But he knows that if he doesn't make her let go, they could be standing there a bit while longer. "We should save that 'til we're safe."

"I'm sorry I didn't trust you."
"Do you trust me now?" It certainly took her long enough, but he won't blame her, considering the circumstances.

After the torture and not pausing to take a proper quick rest because of his injuries, the black and white patterns and the glaring reds are extremely dizzying and Hatter sometimes has to fight a bit to stay focused.

"Charlie said that the Queen only wanted to feel the good, not the bad, remember?"

"So?"

"We're going to stir up some emotions." Alice feels like one of the heroes in an action movie, firing the gun at the ceiling, but it does its job in getting everyone's attention. "Deal another hand, spin another roulette wheel and it will be your last!"

Alice stares at them all, wondering if she'd passed them on one of New York's hundreds of busy streets or perhaps they'd sat beside each other on the subway or the bus. "Look at me. Think. Where are your families? Your kids? Your husbands and your wives and your mothers and fathers?"

Hatter thinks he might have smiled had he not been so tired and the situation not so dire when the security guard is patting at his pockets. "Where're my keys?"

"You were taken from them and brought here. Try to think." Alice can see why teachers could sometimes get a bit frustrated at students when the answer to the problem seems so obvious, but they just stare at the paper and say they can't do it. "What's your name?"

The suits are bursting in and Hatter's only thought is I really, really hate guns. Because as many fights as he's gotten into, he's never actually been in a gunfight. He can see Alice shaking when the Carpenter runs in. Hatter can't see much of a resemblance between them, but he's never been very good at that sort of thing.

"You don't remember me." She tells him. It's difficult to hold the gun straight, even in a two handed stance. "You don't remember anything."

"I-I do. I remember everything."

"He's the one that brought you all here. And when he's done with you, he'll get rid of you. Isn't that right? Daddy, isn't that right?!"

Hatter begins to move towards her. Alice is more than a bit distraught now and if her trigger finger slips, things could go from bad to worse.

Her father, Robert was his name? is telling a slightly halting, hesitating story. But Alice recognizes it, her gun wavering more. "I should have known you the moment I saw you. I've missed so much and wasted so much time."

A single gunshot rips through the air and through Robert Hamilton. And, slowly, Alice's mind comprehends what's happening. She doesn't want to understand it, doesn't want to know who's hurt, who's died. And all Hatter can think of when he sees the anguish on Alice's face is that he wants to hurt Walrus. It's the same as when Nana was killed; the rage, the hurt is all in the air. But it's all detached to him, like this was all happening to somebody else. He watches himself raise the gun and empty the clip into the Walrus.

Hatter has to nearly rip Alice away from her father as she's sobbing. He doesn't entirely want to. He knows that she just wants to stay there and have a good cry, but he can't allow her to do that right now, else it might all have been for naught. "We've got to get out of here. Please." He knows that no platitudes will work right now, but he apologizes because it's all that he can think to say.

* * *

Everything is foggy in the wreckage of the casino. People are coughing, sitting and Hatter thinks he spots one of them crying. But as far as he can tell, no one was hurt in the actual collapsing. But Robert Hamilton would never get a proper funeral or be able to be back in his world with his wife and child.

"I don't suppose I could get that hug now?" He says it because he needs to break that terribly heavy silence between them and because he suspects that Alice needs a hug. He doesn't get the hug.

"Take a good look at your Queen. Make sure she's worth fighting for."

Hatter had never gotten a very good look at the Queen of Hearts; the woman who had destroyed Wonderland and destroyed his home. He thinks that, when he was told about her, she never seemed like a small woman to him. But she is. She looks a bit tired around the edges as well, but there's an imperious air to her that nearly succeeds in masking it.

"How dare you look at me. She's the one you should be looking at!"

"I am not the problem. You are."

"Off with her head!" Hatter feels a flutter of panic somewhere in his chest at the order, but none of the suits make a move.

"And it looks like everyone's finally waking up to that."

"Don't listen to her. She's just an insolent girl."

"No one is frightened of you anymore. You're just one of us now." Hatter wonders if Alice thought about those words before saying them. Us? Wonderlanders? Or was it the oysters that were still there?

"This is my kingdom and I am still queen!"

"No one is listening. Your power's gone."

The crowd parts and Jack is coming through with a blonde woman that looks as though she'd been part of the casino too long. "Jack! Thank goodness you're here. Get everyone to fall in line."

"Me? Didn't you sentence me to death?" That's news to Hatter.

"I was just doing my job. Come, rally the troops."

"Mother, it's over."

Alice holds her hand out, an expectant look on her face. "The Ring."

"Are you mad? I'd sooner have you cut off my finger."

Alice's next words are a bit of a surprise. "That can be arranged." Apparently, spending so much time with parts of the Resistance had given Alice a new kind of steel in her backbone; more than she'd had before.

"Do you have a knife?" Hatter can't believe he's asking a suit, but he supposes that they're all on the same side now. "Thank you." Jack catches his shoulder as he makes for the Queen.

"Make sure it's a clean cut. We don't want any blood on the Ring." A warning to not get carried away by any of the rage that had been present the day that Nana was killed, if the sight of the Queen had brought any of that rage back.

"Mmhm." The scnk of the knife blade.

Alice raises the Ring high and there's a ferocious amount of cheering. Even from the oysters, though they most likely had no idea what exactly was going on. And Hatter thinks that the things they've all been through almost entirely make up for this moment.

* * *

Hatter hisses as the pain in his ribs flares, but he pushes it back because he cannot be late for this. Because if he's late for this, than he doesn't think he can forgive himself. He jogs through the revolving doors, would have run, if he was able, and wishes he didn't.

Alice and Jack looked rather comfortable, hugging in the middle of the hall and speaking at a rather intimate distance.

He watches her restart the Looking Glass—it's his first time really seeing it. This adventure has had a lot of firsts in it—and thinks that he's a little too late.

"Hatter!"

He turns on the automatic sound of his name, recognizing the voice a split second later. "Alice! 'Ey! I was, uh…afraid I might've missed you."

"Yeah, well, you cut it a little close."

"I guess I was tryin' not to think about it…Anyways, I wanted to say goodbye." He says it like he's proud that he was able to at all. Which he rather is, since they are some of the hardest words he's ever had to say.

"Goodbye?" The look on her face tells him he missed something, though he can't possibly think of what it could be.

Licking his lips, he says, "If you, y'know, ever fancy coming back…"

"You want me to stay?"

"Hell no." He thinks his voice breaks a little at that, but he knows she can't stay. It's not safe for her here, even with the Queen gone. "No, you, I think you should go 'ome."

"Yeah…I think I've had enough of Wonderland for a lifetime."

Finally. Something he can agree with her on. "Yes, I'm sure you have. Still, we had a laugh. Had some good times. Obviously, among all the…bad times."

She shrugs off the jacket and he hates the very motion of it. His mind tells him that she's shrugging off the memories of this place, of these people. Of him. But he screws a smile in place.

"So, we should…" He gestures awkwardly. Where has all his charm and ease with people gone? This hug doesn't have the natural feel of the others. This one is stiff and tentative, lasting only as long as strictly necessary for a hug.

"You know, you could always visit my world. You might like it." It's both difficult and not so hard to imagine Hatter in New York. His oddly honest matter and roundabout good manners would be very different there, but Alice can also picture him sitting in a café with a cup of tea and a book.

"Yeah. We could…we could do pizza."

Alice has the insane urge to laugh. The word doesn't sound right coming from him. "And lots of other things."

Hatter doesn't think he's ever been as tongue-tied as when they're leading her away. And he finds himself standing in that exact spot for almost ten minutes after she's pushed into the Looking Glass before he feels like he can't breath. His walk is a bit faster than it usually is as he goes outside. The grass hasn't begun to grow back yet, but there are signs of it as he takes a seat on a low garden wall. A lot like Nana used to have.

"It's not so bad, you know. Her world."

Hatter doesn't look at Jack. "I wouldn't fit in there. It's better that she just forgets about all of this."

Jack sits beside him, almost a whole foot between them. "No, I don't think Hatter does fit in there." Jack sees the fleeting glance that is sent his way. And he knows that there is a possibility that he'll get punched for this, but he thinks it's not very high odds. "But David might."

"…You've got a lot of nerve, Jack." But Hatter can't summon any anger to his voice.

Jack opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. "I don't think I owe you an apology for…what happened, but I think it's what's needed. I'm sorry for what happened with Nana. It wasn't supposed to happen and—"

"You don' need to be apologizin', Jack."

They don't know quite what else to say, but with what's already been said, they know, or perhaps already knew, that they could never be friends again. But if that was the case, if they couldn't be friends, then they could still respect each other.

* * *

Hatter cocks an eyebrow at his new wardrobe. "Are you sure this is what oysters dress like in their world? Seems awfully plain."

Jack shakes his head. "Not everyone likes dressing in bright purple and brown leather. And yes, that is what they wear."

Hatter feels very ill at ease without his hat that's currently sitting on his bedpost, but with much effort, he'd gotten his hair to lie flat an in some semblance of order. A white T-shirt—nothing on it, not even something witty or a little logo—with a jacket thrown over it with a pair of jeans; that all should feel normal. It's not far from what he usually wears, but it still feels a bit wrong.

"Do they all dress similarly or are there mad oysters too?"

"Mad oysters?"

Hatter grins a bit. "A bit like me."

"It's New York, so almost definitely."

"Oh, good." It makes him feel a bit less nervous, knowing there might be people who weren't so different.

"And you've got to stop calling them oysters. Makes people look at you funny."

Hatter smoothes his hands down the front of his jacket one more time. "At least that'll give them a reason."

Jack holds out a hand just as Hatter steps up to go through the Looking Glass. Smiling, just a little, Hatter shakes the offered hand. "Good luck, David."

"Same to you," The smile turns lopsided and teasing. "Your Majesty."

* * *

"Alice? Come meet David."

She looks stunned before running towards him, nearly tackling him off his feet. And this time, the hug felt absolutely right. He's content to simply hold her, know that she was actually here, in his arms. "Finally."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

A/N: This turned out far longer than I intended it to. And I edited out about two pages too. Still, this is most likely the only Alice fic I'm going to do, so why not?