Hey, just a little drabble about the Mad Hatter, taken out of my story 'Return to madness' – this is especially for Danforth's Child who asked me to write "what would happen if Alice WASN'T there to stop hatter from
his crazy streak" so here it is. Hope you like it :) Dray xx

It was late in the evening. The Hatter had been hidden away in his workshop since the picnic had finished and had not even come out for dinner. He had put the dresses that he had been making away and was working on some rough designs for hats. His pencil moved automatically over the paper as his mind was dangerously allowed to wander. He thought about the Frabjous day when he had shoved his pride aside to try to persuade Alice not to return to Otherland. He could deal with people dismissing him as mad - for what was the Hatter without his Madness? - but rejection was not something he could comprehend.

"She doesn't care. She left me, even when I asked her to stay," he growled to himself. "She won't stay now..."

A pause.

"But she told me that she wasn't going anywhere. She meant it, I know she did," he reasoned.

"Just like when she said that staying would be a wonderful idea." the growl sounded bitter this time.

"But Miss Alice needs me. I can trust her."

"Like you trusted Chessur, and look where that got you."

"She's not like Chessur. She wouldn't betray me like that." His voice sounded more uncertain the more he tried to convince himself.

"You really believe that do ye?" His growl was heavily accented and sounded more smug. The Hatter's Madness had won this absurd argument.

"I can't... No, I must be mistaken. She wouldn't... I am..."

"You're a lunatic, is what you are. You will never be anything else. A mad, raving..."

"NO!"

The Hatter stood and shoved everything from his workbench, toppling hatstands and ripping the drawings he had laboured over. This time, unlike in the Red Palace, he was unchained. His chair fell to the floor and he pushed the heavy iron tailor's mannequin over, shouting angrily in outlandish. It fell with an almighty crash as the Hatter's madness turned his eyes a flaming gold and dark grey shadows underlined them. He swept the phials and bottles on the dresser to the floor and leaned on it, panting heavily and glaring into the mirror. He saw the insanity in his eyes and cried out in frustration. He punched his reflection in rage, numb to the glistening red slices that the glass gouged into his fist. He kicked over what was left of the dresser and sank to his knees in the middle of the mayhem. The shadows faded from his face and his eyes returned to their usual green as he surveyed the damage he had caused. An immense feeling of shame and disappointment in himself washed over him. Had Alice been in the room, he realised, she would have been terrified of the... the monster that he had turned into. He put his head in his hands and sighed hopelessly. If he could not control himself, Alice would leave and he would once again be left alone.

He hauled himself to his feet and attempted to tidy up the mess that he had made. Tarrant hoped that Alice would stay. He couldn't bear to see her leave again, he was scared that his Madness would swallow him whole... on the other hand, his Madness was his voice of reason. He couldn't imagine how he would get anything done if it wasn't there, and it would never leave him like Alice had done. He didn't really need Alice, did he? He had survived before she came along... After all, what was the Hatter without his Madness?