I do not own any of the amazing characters in Alice in Wonderland!

Hatter's POV

Lately I have been considering things that start with A: aardvark, accidental, advice, affect, aggravate, alert … Alice. Oh my Alice, she promised. Perhaps I dreamt her up as she feared she dreamt me, or maybe her promise was an assumption. What a great word that is! Assumption, assassin, attacked, attend, author, awkward. Nothing was awkward with her was ever awkward: nay it was easy. Efficient, eight, eligible, embarrassed, environment, equipped. I am not equipped to handle this loss. Sometimes I hear the world around me, I hear the White Queen speaking. She tells people I'm coping, trying to escape. Escape, exaggerate, excellent, existence. How long must my existence go on? Has it been hours or years since she left?

"Hatter!"

Jerked back to reality I look up. The White Queen is standing in the doorway.

"Why is a Raven like a Writing Desk?" I hear myself ask her.

"I do not know," she replied smiling, "why is a Raven like a Writing Desk?"

My mind flicks back to someone else asking me that. Who? I need to know who! A beautiful girl with long blonde hair. A blue dress clings to her body. I can see her lift a small vile full of Jabberwocky blood to her supple red lips.

"No! Don't go! ALICE!" I am screaming, reality is gone. Evil Time has locked me away from my Alice. She takes a sip and fades away. Alice, Alice, Alice, Alice, Alice. My brain is stuck on those letters, on that word. Alice. Everything is dark, the world is black.

Black, blue, blood, breathe, brilliant, business. My mind restarts itself. I can see again! The White Queen still stands before me, biting her lower lip, brow furrowed with concern.

"How can I help you, your majesty?" I bowed to her, hat in hand.

"Tarrant? How are you feeling?" her worry bleed through to her voice and into her gaze.

"Fantastic, fair, fine, full, fun, fuz-"

"Hatter!"

"Sorry, I'm fine." I gasped

"Good" She looked skeptical but didn't question me further.

"What can I do for you?" I felt my grasp on reality fading but I clung to it like a dying man to a buoy.

"There is a ball coming and I need a hat!"

"Of course! A hat!" Now she had my full attention, "It shall be luscious, lovely looking to fill others with longing!"

"Hatter!"

"L-l- I'm fine. Shall it be large or small? Feathered or Furred? A bonnet or a cap?" I ranted on and on, taking measurements of her tiny head.

The last time I measured a head it was much larger. (Down with bloody big head!) The hats I made were lovely but as someone (Who? I can not remember who!) told me, it was a pity I had to make them for her, the Red Queen. She held me captive but that didn't truly matter to me. The reason I truly hated hatting that enormous orb of a head is her crimes against others. She killed so many, and tortured even more. The Red Queen hunted Underland's Champion. The lovely, brave champion, she who welded the vorpal sword. Alice.

My tape measure fell to the floor with a loud clatter. Once again my sanity fled me. Somewhere deep in my head I noticed the White Queen slip from the room.

Alice! How could she leave me? Me, meant, mewl, minutes, missle, mountain, mystery, Why would she go? Gouged, govern, goad, god! GOD! He has gone is he was ever here before. Belief, benefit, broad, broth. I should have never let her leave. Length, literature, lonely… love. Never! Never again! Oh, Alice! My Alice, no not mine, gone. Gone to the world above. Absence, acceptable, accuracy, acknowledgement, acquaintance, across, adapt, adequately, admission… Alice.

The White Queen's POV

As Alice faded away into her own land I saw something break within the Hatter. His eyes went from an anxious orange, to a deep sad blue, a raw furious red, and then all color was gone. His eyes were empty and gray. He walked back to his room and then, without a word, began hatting.

In that first day he made hundreds of hats. They were al different colors, and styles but every single one had 2 things in common. They were stained with the Hatter's tears and all were made to fit one girl, Alice. The room continued to fill with hats. The Mad Hatter wouldn't sleep and refused to eat.

My heart wrenched with pain as I watched Tarrant's grief. We all tried our best to cheer him but still he screamed until he sobbed. As the days turned to weeks, I decided to try one last thing. I went to the Hatter to request a hat.

When I opened the door I found him sitting in a huge pile of hats. His knees were pressed to his chest and he was muttering to himself.

"Hatter!" I half shouted and he looked up at me, his eyes still foggy.

"Why is a Raven like a Writing Desk?" he whimpered.

"I do not know," I flashed him an encouraging smile, "why is a Raven like a Writing Desk?"

His eyes became jet. He rose from his seat, looking in my direction. I could tell he wasn't seeing me but someone else.

"No! I don't go! Alice!" he screamed reaching towards nothingness. With a sob he collapsed into a stack of hats, tipping the pile over. For a moment he lay there muttering, then he looked up at me with clear eyes. His hat sat askew on his head.

"How can I help you, your majesty? He jumped to his feet, pulling his hat off his head and bowing.

"Tarrant? How are you feeling?" my voice was soft as I tried to soothe him.

"Fantastic, fair, fine, full, fun, fuz-" he rambled

"Hatter!"

"Sorry, I'm fine." he gasped

"Good" I told him although I knew he was not fine.

"What can I do for you?" his eyes were a pale green, very nearly gray but no longer empty.

"There is a ball coming and I need a hat!" I watched his eyes light up

"Of course! A hat! It shall be luscious, lovely looking to fill others with longing!" he rummaged through his piles of hats.

"Hatter!"

"L-l- I'm fine. Shall it be large or small? Feathered…" As he ranted on he pulled a measuring tape out of one of the hat heaps. He measured my head this way and that.

Then he stiffened. His measuring tape thumped to the floor.

"Hatter? Hatter!" I called to him but he was gone, lost to his own mind. Once again his eyes where like black onyx. Trembling with rage he began to scream, as though with terror. I slipped from the room, knowing the Hatter was no longer himself.