A/N: Yay! Chapter One! Time to embark on a new adventure! Exclamation point! In all honesty, though, I am super-pumped for this story. I've put a lot of work into it.
Like, a lot.
Disclaimer: The only things I own are the plot and Carol. (Who's Carol, says you? Wait and see)
Furthermore, this story has nothing to do with Once Upon a Time in Wonderland. I've been working on this story since before OUATIW was even a twinkle in Adam and Eddy's eyes. (Probably. Maybe.) Any parallels, connections, or similar plot lines, while extremely unlikely, are coincidental and unintentional.
Chapter 1
"Once, I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high
Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a madman"
/-*-*-*-\
The man's head made a sickening crack as it slammed against the wall, instantly knocking him out. As his drooping body slid down the wall, his outlandish top hat rolled off his head and onto the floor in front of her feet. Emma bent down and picked it up, looking over at the man who should so be in jail right now. Kidnapping, assaulting a police officer, stalking, she could go on. She walked over to him, retrieving her gun from his limp hand and checking his pulse, careful to avoid touching the angry red scar running around his neck. It was almost as if...
Off with his head.
She shook off the thought and stood. His pulse was slow, but present. For now, she thought bitterly.
"Are you okay?"
Mary Margret's concerned voice brought her out of her thoughts. Emma turned to her, taking in the sight of her timid, soft-spoken roommate hunched over, breathing heavily and still clutching the croquet mallet she used to whack the lunatic over the head before karate-kicking him into the wall. A few feet to the left and he would've been out the window. "Yeah," she replied, looking her over, "you?"
"Yeah," she panted, letting the mallet fall to the carpet. "Is he...?" she gestured over to the man on the floor.
"He's alive. Unconscious, though. Three pretty mean hits on the head in less than an hour, plus I almost ran him over earlier. It's a wonder he's not dead. And by the way, have you been taking kickboxing and not telling me about it?"
Mary Margret looked away, genuinely confused. "I have no idea where that came from. Who is he?"
"A very lonely man," she replied tersely. An understatement if I ever heard one, she thought.
While Emma replaced the safety on her gun and slid it into her back pocket, Mary Margret had taken a few steps towards the madman against the wall. "Shouldn't we get him some help?" she asked, concern etched onto her face.
Emma sighed, "I think he needs more 'help' than we could offer. What we should get is back to the station before he wakes up." The arraignment was in a few hours, according to her watch, but she knew Regina would get there early to soak in the sight of Mary Margret behind bars.
"We can't just leave him here," she said, turning to Emma, "He could be really hurt."
"Oh, I think his head was messed up enough before we showed up," the sheriff shrugged, only half-joking. "What's a little concussion gonna do?"
Mary Margret shot her a look that brooked no arguments. "Emma. I know what he did was-"
"Insane?" Emma finished with a glare right back.
"I was going to say wrong," said Mary Margret, annoyed. "But he's still a human being."
Emma sighed. She had a valid point. "Fine," she conceded. "But you're gonna carry him out to the car."
Later that day, as she sat outside the elementary school, story book in hand, Emma began to think. About the man from earlier and the striking resemblance he held to the man known as the Mad Hatter depicted in the book. The story he had told her matched the one in the book as well, down to the phrase he murmured repeatedly while she was making his hat. Get it to work. She had used her superpower on him when he was telling his story, and he was telling the truth, or at least what he believed to be true. As she sat and thought, the last straggling students making their way through the school doors, the seed of possibility that her son's adamant belief in the curse had planted in her mind grew just a little bit more.
Meanwhile, across town, a clumsy hospital orderly was assigned to move non-essential patient files out of a cluttered file cabinet and into the new archive system. Caffeine running through her system, the orderly believed she could carry the enormous stack in one trip. The resulting stack of files was so high that it obstructed her line of vision and if she wasn't careful to hold them all in, they would fall out of her arms. Which would be tolerable, she reasoned, if she just moved quickly. That was how she found herself speed-walking to the complete other side of the hospital, calling out frantically for everyone to get out of the way, I've got my hands full, can you get that door for me? She ran into something, or rather someone, and she nearly lost them all. Muttering out a rushed apology, she hurried on her way, ignoring the man she ran into calling after her. He held the dropped file in his outstretched hand, watching the young orderly walk away. He glanced at the name on the tab: PARKER, CAROL. Might as well return it, he reasoned, tucking his lucky umbrella into the crook of his elbow. He opened it, looking for her doctor and ward, and wound up accidentally reading more than what he was looking for. Oh my.
He needed to find Dr. Whale.
Now.
Emma watched from the corner of the room as his eyes cracked open before promptly slamming shut again. Jefferson groaned and attempted to bring his hand up to cover his eyes, only to find it handcuffed to the hospital bed. She could see the wheels turning in his head as he slowly remembered how he got in this situation. He muttered a curse under his breath and tried opening his eyes again while sitting up as best he could. When he saw her, he nodded slightly before leaning back against the pillow. "Sheriff," he greeted softly.
"Jefferson," she replied. "How's the head?"
He smirked and raised his un-cuffed hand to rub his forehead. "A bit shaken up," he retorted, "no thanks to you and, uh, Spot."
Emma smirked back and replied sardonically, "Actually, Spot's the one who wanted to bring you to the hospital. The doctor says you have a mild concussion. They're gonna put you on medicine, but the best thing for you to do is to rest. So no more kidnapping until you're healed."
The smile faded from his face, and he actually looked remorseful. "About that," he sighed, resigned. "I really am sorry. I cooked up this delusion and I dragged you and Mar- Spot into it. I know now, there is no curse. That Paige girl is not my daughter. And I am most certainly not the Mad Hatter."
She listened cautiously, a suspicious eyebrow rising higher on her forehead with every word. Everything about him screamed that he was telling the truth, but just a few hours ago, this was the man whose belief in the curse was so unassailable he was willing to kill her and Mary Margret over it. "Is that so?" Jefferson nodded slowly, so as not to jostle his head too much. "You'll forgive me if I don't believe you just yet." He shrugged guiltily, accepting. "Actions speak louder than words, buddy. For Spot's sake, I'm going to pretend that last night never happened. For your sake, I better see you acting like a normal human being from time to time. And if I hear even the slightest whisper that you're bothering that little girl, I will ship your ass off to jail faster than you can say 'Wonderland'. We clear?"
"Crystal," he smiled.
On that note, she turned and left, leaving the (apparently) ex-maniac behind. On her way through the lobby, she swerved to avoid an old woman in a wheelchair and ran smack into her least favorite person. Regina inhaled sharply as some of the coffee she was carrying sloshed onto her blouse. The mayor looked up at her sharply, and if looks could kill, Emma suspected that the hospital staff would be cleaning her blood off the walls. "I suggest that you watch where you're walking, Sheriff," she snapped.
Emma raised an eyebrow in response. "Can I help you with something, Madame Mayor?"
"I understand that a Mr. Jefferson Andrews has been admitted," the mayor replied, all business. "Something about a concussion?"
"Let me guess. You're his emergency contact, too?"
Regina smirked triumphantly. "So it would seem."
Naturally. "And may I ask why?"
"Jefferson has done some work for me in the past and his late wife and I spent some time together." She sighed, clearly annoyed with this line of questioning. "So, you're the one who found him?"
Emma nodded, "Lying on the side of Route 6." Not technically a lie.
Crossing her arms and scowling, the mayor asked, "And what were you doing in the middle of the woods so early, Miss Swan?"
"Looking for evidence relating to the murder of Kathryn Nolan," the sheriff scowled back, "Mayor Mills."
"What evidence?" Regina hissed, "You have Mary Margaret in custody." Emma couldn't help but notice the mayor seemed a little peeved by that last fact.
"Oh, I don't know," shrugged Emma, "evidence like the body?"
Regina's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "So Miss Blanchard told you where Kathryn's body is?"
The sheriff narrowed her eyes. "No. But Kathryn's heart was found in the woods; it stands to reason the rest of her is somewhere in there, too. I was on my way to go search when I saw him on the side of the road. I stopped, got out, checked his pulse and brought him straight here."
"A likely story, Miss Swan," Regina drawled, smiling tightly, "but a body seems rather useless when you already have your killer."
"Maybe it's useless in regards to the case, but I just thought that her husband and friends, like you, would want more than just a heart to bury." Emma smiled sarcastically. "My mistake."
Regina frowned, defeated, and set off towards Jefferson's room. Emma watched her retreating form with a Cheshire grin before doing an about-face and strolling out the front doors.
Light, she thought, blinking as she emerged from the hospital's automatic doors, real, actual sunlight. Sadly, she had grown used to the small, frosted glass window in her cell. The horrible, horrible cell under the hospital that she had been in ever since she could remember.
Every day, it was the same. Wake up at six-thirty on the dot. Eat the disgusting breakfast they gave her. Dry toast, milk on the verge of spoiling, and a small bowl of oatmeal that looked as if it would come to life and crawl away. Be escorted from her cell to the female shower room, shiver under the freezing water beside several other women, and then be escorted back to her cell. Then wait until noon, when they would give her a soggy ham and cheese sandwich. Wait until seven in the evening when they would give her overcooked chicken cut into bite-sized pieces and a wilted salad. Lie on her cot, huddled under her thin blanket and slowly sink into a dreamless sleep. That was her life, on repeat every day. But today, that changed.
Today, Carol thought with a smile, I'm free.
When her cell door opened at eleven that morning, she thought she was being treated to an early lunch. Instead, Dr. Whale was standing in the hall with a box with her name on it under his arm. He was accompanied by another man that she didn't know but decided she liked because of his easy demeanor and adorkable sweater-vest-and-glasses combo. The man smiled at her, a real, genuine smile, something she hadn't seen in ages. "Good morning, Miss Parker," he said. "My name is Dr. Hopper. How are you feeling?"
She suppressed the urge to sigh at his choice of a conversation starter. For as long as she could remember, all anyone ever asked her was how she felt. The worst part was that they didn't really care. They just wanted a cookie-cutter answer that they could put in their report, so they could see that their so-called treatment was working. "Fine, I suppose," she replied, careful to keep her tone respectful. "What's going on here?"
The two doctors in the hall looked briefly at each other, then looked back at her. "We have good news for you, Carol," Dr. Whale sighed. "It seems there was a mistake in your paperwork." He looked at his colleague with a barely concealed look of annoyance. "You see, some time ago, you were deemed sane and fit to be released, but something wasn't entered into the system correctly. It's a bit complicated, but as far as you're concerned," he stepped forward and unceremoniously shoved the box he was holding into her arms, "you're free to go."
The words echoed in her head. Sane. Free. "Free?" Carol whispered, awestruck, a real smile spreading across her face. Her arms wrapped tighter around the cardboard box, threatening to crush it. Free. In that moment, it was the most beautiful word in the whole world. She felt like she could say it again and again for days and would never grow tired of the sound. She almost didn't mind the fact that she had been in this wretched place for longer than she was supposed to be.
Dr. Whale rolled his eyes, but Dr. Hopper smiled along with her. "Yes, Carol," he grinned, "free. That box has your personal effects, so try not to damage it." She chuckled lightly and loosened her hold on the box. "There should be a change of clothes in there. We're going to close the door to let you change. When you're finished, just knock and we'll let you back out." On that note, the door closed, but did not lock, she noticed.
For a good long moment, Carol simply stood in place, hugging her box of belongings. Everything was happening so suddenly and it nearly left her head spinning. One minute, she was cursing her pointless existence, the next she was walking on air. Free. She erupted into a flurry of movement, eager to leave the drab cell she had reluctantly called home for too long. Setting the box down on her cot, she all but ripped the lid off to reveal its contents. Her eyes drank in the blue jeans and dark green blouse like they were made of precious gems, the black sandals as if they were glass slippers. Real clothing. She tore off the flimsy hospital gown and quickly dressed. Once she was sure she looked mildly presentable, she threw the handbag from the bottom of the box over her shoulder and knocked on the door.
It opened immediately, and she was greeted with the sight of the two doctors from before. "Ready to go?" Dr. Hopper smiled. The young woman nodded enthusiastically and took a bold step across the threshold. Dr. Hopper walked down the hall towards the reception desk, using the umbrella he carried as a walking stick, and she trailed closely behind. Some "sign here's" and "initial there's" on release forms and a hearty pat on the back later, she was emerging into a bright Storybrooke afternoon. Fishing a pair of sunglasses out of her bag, she took a deep breath of fresh air. First order of business, she thought, running a hand though her hair, find out if my apartment's been given away. She took another calming deep breath. You can do this. Smiling to herself, Carol walked away from the hospital, humming absentmindedly as she made her way home.
Carol settled into a booth in the back corner of Granny's, wanting nothing more than to sink into the vinyl and never come out. On the five minute walk to her apartment building alone, she had received at least twelve cautious glares from people in town. One woman even had the gall to pull her child closer as they passed her on the street, as if she was going to cut off their heads if they got too close. Was she really that big of a deal? The silver lining was that since no one new had come to town since some man on a motorcycle, who was staying at Granny's, her old landlord had no reason to give away her apartment. Mr. Gold was asking for two month's worth of rent in advance for his "trouble", though, so the lining was slimmer than she would've liked.
She had also stopped by her previous place of employment, the Rabbit Hole, but they were less than willing to take her back. And by "less than willing", she was referring to the way the manager practically shoved her out the door. She groaned and leaned her head back onto the back of the booth. At least Gold told her where she could find a new job. He mentioned an soon-to-be-open millinery shop called The Hat Trick run by some rich guy that no one seemed to know anything about, other than he was recovering from a concussion and needed all the help he could get.
"What can I do for-" the approaching waitress who had been looking down at her notepad looked up and noticed Carol for the first time. "Carol?" Red lips curved up into a smile and brown eyes grew wide at the sight of her old friend. Ruby yanked Carol out of the booth by her arm and enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug. "Oh my god!" she squealed, rocking her back and forth, ignoring Carol's hushed protests. "It's been forever! How have you been? Sit. You have to tell me everything!" Ruby all but shoved her now thoroughly embarrassed friend back into her seat and took a seat across from her. "So," Ruby continued, leaning in across the table, "dish."
Carol, head still reeling from her old friend's attack-hug, shifted awkwardly in her seat. "It's nice to see you too, Ruby," she started in an earnest but hushed tone, "but did you have to make such a scene?" Ruby just quirked an eyebrow in response, silently asking 'how long have you known me?' Carol sighed, "Right. But won't Granny be upset that you're not working?"
Ruby groaned, "I couldn't care less what Granny has to say. Besides, if she asks, I'll just say I'm on my lunch break, which it's about time for anyways." She pointed an accusatory finger at her, "Now stop changing the subject! Where have you been?"
Oh, where to begin? Carol wondered. "I, uh," she swallowed nervously, "I was in the hospital."
"What?!" The waitress' eyes widened and raked over the parts of her that she could see, checking for injuries. "Why? What happened?"
Carol temporarily retreated into her thoughts. She thought about the way she was treated both in the hospital and just now on the street. Her former coworkers at the Rabbit Hole, former friends, treating her the way they would treat some low-life barfly. "I don't really want to talk about it," she whispered brokenly. "The point is I'm out now, I'm fine, and I'm trying to get my life back together, but it's not going over too well."
"Oh, sweetie!" Ruby looked heartbroken at the downtrodden look on her old friend's face and the dull look in her eyes. "God, I feel like such an ass. Wait right here." She left the booth, teetering on her red stilettos before regaining her balance and rushing to the kitchen. She returned less than a minute later, carrying a glass of iced tea. Setting it down on the table in front of Carol, she sat back down into the booth across from her. "I remembered that you hardly drink anything but tea. I put in an order for some burgers and fries, and I told Lucy to step on it, so they should be out soon."
The blonde smiled gratefully and took a drink of her tea. "What would I do without you, Ruby?"
Ruby beamed and shrugged her shoulders, "Luckily you'll never have to find out."
As Carol sat drinking her tea and catching up on the latest news, she felt a small flame of hope spring to life somewhere deep inside. Perhaps things were looking up, after all.
Song is "Carry On Wayward Son" by Kansas because I like it and it basically works here, right? Of course it does.
Why am I answering my own questions? Because I feel like it. If it annoys you, you can ask some of your own in the form of a Review. (oh the cleverness of me)
