Harry awoke to the sound of birds chattering, the indecipherable murmur of the television and the worst hangover he could remember.
"Ahhh..." he muttered loudly, tapering off as the sound of his own voice rang heavy in his ears. He clamped the pillow under his head tightly, stuffing it over his ears to bury himself back in bed.
"So not worth it…" he whispered gruffly, and tried to fall back asleep.
---
5 minutes later, just as the thumping of his head had slowed gently and his eyes had fallen heavy, the television downstairs jumped to life, volume as high as it could possibly go, pumping the squall of children's television through his apartment.
It was all he could do to avoid falling out of bed in fright, gripping tight to the mattress, and with a loud groan he swung himself out of bed, muttering profanities to the furniture. It took him a moment to realise he wasn't wearing his pyjamas; well, rather, the flannelette bottoms were a pair he'd never laid eyes on. He picked at the waist in confusion, catching sight of the clock in the hallway, and did a double take. It was nearly 11 in the morning, he was quite sure his alarm hadn't sounded, and despite the raging head ache he couldn't actually remember getting drunk last night.
"Must have been a good party," he murmured, and continued his voyage to the front room. As he stumbled down the hallway he paused. Just above the high-pitched wail of music blaring from the television, he could make out the whine of the pipes, and as he listened closer, he realised the shower was running. He scratched at his head in confusion, trying to remember if anyone had come home with him, before stopping as the brightly coloured dancers on the television came into view.
He groaned loudly, the noise echoing through his head, before picking at one of the remotes tossed by the kitchen bench. He pressed down harshly and sighed in peace as the television was finally silenced.
Except that it wasn't.
Even as the screen blackened there was still the jumbled squeal of a little voice singing; a little voice that was rapidly descending into a wail.
Harry stumbled forwards, catching sight of the rug in his front room, and screamed; loudly.
---
Seated on the rug, propped up against a fairy beanbag, was a little, bouncing girl, surely no older than two years.
Harry blinked quickly, rubbing at his eyes, before stumbling forwards.
The little girl was dressed in a bright flower dress, white stockings keeping her legs warm, whilst a pink cardigan was wrapped around her arms. In her hands was a worn rabbit, most likely white at it's beginning, but it was now a dusty grey colour, the product of the rapid beating it was getting as the little girl waved it up and down in her arms.
She had turned to Harry, giggling happily, before holding her arms up.
It took him a moment to realise her intention, and that he rapid squeals of nonsense were in fact pleas to be picked up. Harry knelt down, still unsure as to whether he had awoken yet, before edging closer.
The little girl was babbling to herself, and as he watched her carefully he realised she couldn't have even been two yet. She could speak, however, and as she flopped over onto her front, crawling rapidly towards him, Harry realised with horror that she was babbling to him over and over. Daddy, it would seem, was his title.
"Oh no," he murmured, jumping backwards quickly. "No, no, no, no, no."
With a start he stood up, realising the stupidity of his movements as his head swam dangerously, and then again as moments later, the little girls coo's turned to sobs.
Very loud sobs, it would seem, as she wailed continuously.
Harry stood frozen, watching as she waved her arms at him, before the sudden fall of footsteps appeared behind him. Harry almost jumped from his skin.
"Would you stop teasing her," came the hurried words of a woman, wet skin brushing past his bare back, as she pushed past him. Harry's mouth hung open, watching her back, before the woman leant down, towel falling rather provocatively, to scoop up the little girl. Immediately the crying stopped, instead the grin that he'd seen earlier lit up the child's face, and Harry longed to turn the woman around, if only to catch a glimpse of her. Dark blonde hair was dripping rapidly down bare shoulders, and only the towel wrapped around her stood between his gaze and her naked form.
He too, was only wearing the flannelette bottoms, and with a start he realised the intimacy of the situation, this little girl who could him daddy, and this woman, whom he assumed was his wife.
He glanced at her once more and felt the world tilt on its axis. He needn't have her turn to him anymore, and with a start he wondered how he'd been so blind.
He knew exactly who stood before him and it made him giddy with confusion.
"Harry, stop being an idiot for a minute and take her, Leo and Janet will be here any minute," scolded Nikki, turning to pass the little girl into his arms. As she brushed past him once more he had to resist the urge to grab her, and watched in fascination as his best friend wandered semi-naked through his apartment.
He glanced down at the little girl, who was now watching him carefully, and figured smiling was probably a place to start. He grinned gently at her, and watched, enraptured, as the most gorgeous smile lit her face. She had dimples, and rosy cheeks; blonde hair that he assumed came from her mother, and brown eyes similar to them both.
"You're quite adorable," he murmured, and bounced her up and down. She giggled happily, Nikki's giggle, and Harry felt his stomach flip.
"I have no idea who you are, or why Nikki's in my room, but this is the best dream I've had in years," he told the small girl, watching her listen to him closely. She pushed up in his arms and immediately he held a hand out to balance her, wondering at the ease with which he knew how to hold her in his arms. Her chubby hand reached out to pat him on the cheek, before she collapsed against his shoulder, and Harry couldn't help but laugh at her antics.
Carry her tightly he wandered into the kitchen, noticing for the first time the pictures and paintings. Two small hands were pressed with paint onto paper, proudly displayed next to photo's of what he assumed was this little girl growing up. There was one of her seated, grinning, on the lounge, another of her held securely in Nikki's arms, a little younger and rugged up against winter. Harry felt his throat constrict, as he eyes fell upon himself, smiling proudly as a little bundle, surely no older than a few hours old, was held in his arms.
"Why can't I remember," he murmured, and glanced at the little girl. She was busy pulling faces at the fridge door, cooing to her reflection, until Harry pulled her away.
"If this is my dream, or even if it's real, why can't I remember anything?"
He was startled from his thoughts by a loud knock at the front door, and realised with a start that he wasn't dressed. Hesitating in the hallway, he remembered Nikki telling him something about Leo, and quickly walked towards the doorway.
Sure enough, when swung open it revealed his friends, Leo immediately taking the girl from his arms to walk through the door. Harry was pushed to the side, receiving a quick hello from Janet, before she too flowed down the hallway.
Slightly taken back, Harry heard, rather than saw Nikki appear in the front room, her bright voice welcoming Leo as the trio of friends all exchanged greetings. The little girl seemed to be the center of attention, and Harry could hear her squealing gaily each time someone talked or glanced at her. He wandered towards them, leaning up against the kitchen wall, to watch the small group in fascination. These people he knew so well were suddenly foreign ground, all because of the toddler held between them.
He wondered briefly if he could still be seen, perhaps he'd faded into the distance of his own dream, before Nikki's smiling face turned to him. She grinned and he felt his entire being melt, before her brow crinkled.
"Why aren't you dressed?" she asked, shaking her head, and Leo glanced up, chuckling.
"You know Harry, when he's comfortable with people, he's really comfortable," quipped Leo. "I must say though, it's been a while since I've seen you grow a beard."
With horror Harry reached a hand to his face, rolling his eyes as he felt the stubble.
"Ha, Ha," he nodded, chuckling as Nikki giggled, before pausing, wondering how he'd slipped so easily into this life. He turned quickly, walking towards the stairwell as the chatter of his friends continued. Hopefully they thought he was just getting dressed.
"This is bloody ridiculous," he murmured, and sprinted upstairs.
---
He emerged 10 minutes later, freshly showered and with a slightly abated headache. His bedroom was set up the same way it was normally (in the real world? Perhaps this was a second dimension, a paradigm shift or a rip in the Time Space Continuum, he pondered.)
"Maybe I should drink less," he murmured to himself, and took in the details that had changed. The bedspread was way to girly, and the dresser by the window most definitely did not belong to him. He wandered towards it, stepping over piles of Nikki's clothes and baby toys, only to feel a little sick as what could only be an image of his wedding day stared back at him.
Neither he nor Nikki had their face to the camera, instead he was gazing down at her, and she at him. She was wearing the most gorgeous dress, and he in his best tux, whilst behind them the glistening sun, in what he could only assume was South Africa, cast a gentle glow across the landscape.
It was beautiful, and looked perfect, and he wished horribly that he could remember it.
"What are you looking at?"
He jumped quickly, spinning from his position watching the photo carefully, to find Nikki leant up against the doorframe.
She was smiling lazily, one hand rested against her stomach, and Harry had never seen anything more gorgeous. She pushed against the door gently, shutting it, before meandering towards him, coming to rest with her hands upon his belt.
She leant up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his jaw, and Harry was quite sure he'd never been more aroused in his life.
"Leo and Janet have her downstairs, they'll be occupied for hours," she murmured, and Harry's knees gave way. He buckled forwards, and swung an arm around her waist, pulling her tight as she giggled cheekily.
"Love you," she grinned, pressing kisses across his jaw, down his neck to his collarbone, whilst all Harry could do was draw her as close as possible, praying that this dream would never end. Nikki's hands had snuck up to his hair, running through the soaking locks, before she finally brought her lips to his, and Harry felt worlds collide.
Quick as he could (because this was his dream, and whilst it may have been the most real, it wasn't the first time this had happened) he looped his hands under her legs and hoisted her up, wrapping her legs tight around his middle before rocking back so she was settled across his hips. He kissed her hungrily, leaning back against the wall so he could run a hand under her shirt, and couldn't help but laugh as she gasped at the cool contact.
She was warm and soft, solid in his arms, and he'd never loved her more, in real or dream life, as he did at that moment.
He tried to tell her, got as close as muttering softly against her neck whilst she breathed heavily, sucking every now and then just under his ear, before the shattering cries of a little girl broke the silence.
For a second Harry ignored it, forgetting the little one downstairs, but Nikki had stilled dramatically. "Don't stop," he begged, nipping against her jaw, but she shook her head, quite certain that the sobs of her baby girl were more than Leo and Janet could handle.
With great difficulty, and a horribly provocative slide down his front, she finally pushed away, leaning up to kiss him firmly before disappearing out the door.
Harry listened, falling dramatically against the bed as he tried to calm his raging body, as her light footsteps padded down the stairway, through the apartment to the child. The wailing abated slightly and soon only a hiccup could be heard, the three adults down stairs talking lightly to her as Nikki tried to calm the toddler's latest disaster.
With a start Harry sat up, shaking his head in confusion. It was quite stupid of his subconscious to come up with all this back story (back story he couldn't even remember) when he and Nikki hadn't even been able to finish. He walked from the room in frustration, turning down the hallway to find himself face to face with a nursery, and laughed quietly.
Why a baby, he couldn't quite fathom, but as he walked into the small pink room he couldn't help but smile. It was nice, probably the most whole he'd felt, having a baby, even if it was only in this fantastical world. He ran a hand over the soft blankets in her cot, smiled at the stuffed animals and teddy bears strewn across the room, before finally stopping at a photo of himself, Nikki, and their baby girl all smiling happily at the camera. It was her first birthday, he assumed, and almost laughed as tears stung his eyes.
His little girl was growing up and he didn't even know her name.
He crinkled his brow in confusion, glancing hurriedly around the room, trying to search for any identification. If he was going to be stuck in this wonderland much longer he wouldn't be able to get away without knowing her, and as he sought through the tags on tiny pieces of baby clothing, his eyes finally settled across a frame upon the wall.
Alice Grace Cunningham, it read, and the tiny embroidered white rabbits around the border had never been more appropriate.
"My own Alice in Wonderland," he murmured, and chuckled quietly. Obviously his subconscious was getting bored with the same old dreams.
"Harry," came soft voice from the doorway, and he spun quickly, smiling as Nikki stepped towards him. "We're going to have lunch soon but I think I'll put her down for a nap," she told him, placing the snoozing toddler in his arms.
He glanced down, taking in the peaceful curves of her face, the soft, baby noises she made, and the warm weight of her in his arms.
"Alice," he breathed quietly, and almost jumped as Nikki's arms curled around his middle from behind.
"Thank you," she murmured, and he was at a loss for words.
"What for?" he asked. It was ridiculously odd, carry this child around, feeling Nikki pressed close to him, lips against his back, but at the same time it terrified him; how easy it was to belong in this world.
Nikki shrugged mutely against his back, and he could feel her smiling.
"Thank you for fighting for me, not giving up on me, even when I almost got lost."
He wanted to ask what she was talking about, had no idea how he'd found her, but some how knew this was something husband/daddy Harry was supposed to already know. There was a lot he was supposed to know, and as he shuffled forwards, placing the heavy weight of his little girl down on her bed, he wondered why real, single Harry had waited so long to find this.
He could remember wisps of conversation, the past of his real world mingling to be lost with the remnants of this fantasy, but as he watched Alice's shallow breathing he knew he'd once expressed his wanting.
There had been some horrible event, something terrifying, and in that moment he was sure he'd imagined this world. Weeks later he must have told Nikki of his longing, he could still feel her pressed up to him, lips against his head, and as he struggled to place the memory, he began to imagine living in this world forever.
"How'd we get so lucky," he murmured, hoping to gain some secret revelation, some divine illumination that would guide his path towards a similar reality.
He felt Nikki chuckle and shake her head.
"We took a chance, even after six years."
"Six years of friendship or six years of wanting more?" he pondered, and Nikki slipped round to his side.
"Both, I think. What's brought this up?"
She leant her head against his shoulder a second before rubbing a hand to his chest. Not waiting for an answer she slipped away fingers trailing through his until she was at the door.
"You coming down to lunch?" she asked, and Harry nodded rapidly.
She disappeared from his view, smiling happily, and Harry turned once more to watch his daughter.
The thought brought tears to his eyes, and as he whispered a hand across her golden locks, he remembered a distant dream, whether from this world or the other he couldn't tell, when he'd been flying back from South Africa, and was sure he'd almost lost everything.
"Why were we there?" he asked the sleeping baby, and tried desperately to clear the fog around his mind.
"Work, it must have been. But why was it so bad?"
He paused a moment and noticed the butterflies hanging from the ceiling, remembered a little girl showing him her collection, as he was toured around the house.
"It wasn't all bad; except I wasn't with mummy, she was with another man and it broke my heart. I was with other friends, who I'd met there. We were working, I'm sure, but I must have spent time at their house. There were lots of children, and I knew then that that was what I wanted. I wanted a house like their's with lots of little you's running around, and mummy."
He paused and smiled to himself, proud to have decoded the memory, and rubbed his thumb gently across the smooth skin of Alice's tiny curled hand. He watched her carefully and realised suddenly that he'd have to let her go.
He'd wake up soon, he was sure of it, and the sick feeling bubbled rapidly.
"I love you," he murmured, and whispered a kiss across her forehead, tears trickling down his cheeks.
He wiped at them bashfully and wondered how a dream could feel so heart wrenching, before walking out of the room silently.
His head was pounding painfully, and tears blurred his eyes. His limbs felt like they were being stretched from here to eternity, and with each step he took from his little girls bedroom, each step down the hallway towards the laughter and the chatter of his wife and friends, he felt his heart rip to shreds with the reality of its falsehood.
The wedding band on his finger burnt red hot through his skin and with a gasp he stumbled into his bedroom, laid down on the bed he'd shared with Nikki numerous times, and wished, begged, that he could wake up here, live in this world where he'd already figured life out, not one where everything was stacked against him.
"I promise I'll love them, I promise, I love them, both of them, I love them," he mumbled, but as his eyes fell heavy he felt the pounding in his head give way to an eternal buzz, and as the lights of early afternoon flickered in through open curtains, everything fell silent.
And he was gone.
---
There is someone stroking the hair back from his forehead, soft, gentle hands, that rub against his skin; through the dark locks at his temple across to the other side, soothing him and the dull headache he can feel forming.
"Harry," a voice whispers, calling him forwards, and he so desperately wants to follow that he tries prying his eyes open. Tiny cracks of light filter through, burning at his sight, but after a few minutes he can make out her outline, and the gentle whisper of her fingers across his skin reminds him of the little girl in his dreams, how he's pushed back her hair as she slept soundly.
What was her name, he ponders, and his throat is dry as he whispers.
"Alice," he murmurs, and immediately coughs, sending shock waves through his mangled body. He can feel a few broken ribs, and the bandage wrapped around his skull leaves nothing to the imagination. There's one around his chest too and a terrible tightness, followed by a dull ache.
"Nikki, actually, but I'll blame you're confusion on surgery," she mutters, and as he finally cracks an eye open he sees her smile. Alice's smile, he thinks, before remembering Alice's was Nikki's.
It's all quite messed up really, two worlds worth of memories colliding, and he wonders how long it will take before he stops comparing that happiness to reality. He ponders briefly whether this is reality, but he can remember echoes of the accident, and beyond that can remember each detail of his past, and is quite certain he's awoken.
"What, happened?" he croaks, and Nikki lifts water to his lips. He sips gratefully, feels the majority of the water dribble down his chin, before realising tears also trickle down his cheeks. His ribs are aching, and as the sobs rise, he feels Nikki take his hand in her own tightly, squeezing it. He can't help but wish for the security of a wedding band once more.
"You were hit by a truck, destroyed the back of your car and sent the front straight into a pole. You're probably the luckiest man alive right now, doctor's didn't think you'd make it."
He thinks of the irony of her words, how lucky she thinks he is when he feels right at the end of the world, having seen happiness snatched from him by simply waking up. He's beginning to understand wonderland, finally, and wishes he could find the rabbit hole once more.
"Harry," she's whispering, and through his tears he can't see her own trickle down. "Harry, please say something, look at me Harry."
He squeezes his eyes shut and prays.
---
When he awakes there is a giant white rabbit suspended above his head.
"Alice?" he questions softly, and hears a slight chuckle.
"Close, but it's Leo," comes the reply. "Sorry about the balloon, Janet and I spent a bit too much time in the gift shop, but it was the only Get Well one left."
"S'okay," murmurs Harry, as he smiles slightly. It hurts, just a bit, as does everything else, and he wonders if the pain meds have worn off.
"Where's Nikki?" he asks, and thinks back to the last time she was here. He wants to see her, badly, but is almost afraid to ask.
"I sent her home, she's spent the last few weeks by your side."
"Weeks?" murmurs Harry, and feels slightly sick. He's been in a coma for weeks, apparently, but only got a few hours in Alice's world.
"Yeah, we were all quite amazed when you woke up so soon. Janet's convinced you must have some pretty strong ties to people here, wanting to wake up so early."
He must look fretful, because one moment Leo is speaking and the next he has grabbed Harry's hand tight. He can feel his chest tighten, feel tears trickle down his cheeks, and as breathing becomes difficult, he squeezes his eyes shut. He is jolted minutes later by the doctor and nurse, something wonderful is being sent down his IV, and seconds later he can feel himself drift off into oblivion.
His last thoughts are of the girl with the golden hair, and how desperate she must have been for weeks by his bedside.
---
It is a month later, he is seated uncomfortably in his kitchen, and is watching the space on the rug where he once saw a fairy bean bag sit. On it was Alice, and sometimes he's sure he can hear her laughter.
A knock at the door breaks his reverie, and as he hobbles towards it, still stiff and sore from the accident, he tries to think back how many hours ago he took his meds.
"Thought you were a work," is the first thing he can think to say, and smiles to break the awkward silence that descends. Nikki is slightly taken back by the rough greeting, but smiles as well and leans forwards for a hug.
She is soft, and warm, and Harry has to resist the urge to tug her legs up around his waist.
"How are you feeling?" she asks, as he allows her to step back instead, and as she wanders behind him into the front room he can't help but roll his eyes.
"Wonderful," he replies, as it's his new favourite word. Everything is wonderful, like wonderland, and Nikki is startled to see the open bottle of whisky on his counter.
"Aren't you still on meds?" she asks quickly, turning to glance at him in concern, and he merely shrugs. The combination makes for slightly better dreams and they're all he's got to live off, at the moment.
"I don't take them at the same time," he mumbles, frowning as Nikki turns from him. He stares at her back for a long minute, before a startled sob breaks through the silence. She is trembling violently, hands brought to her mouth, and he feels worse than he has since the accident.
"Nikki, I'm sorry," he tries, but she shrugs the hand he tries to place across her shoulder away. "Nikki, please, look at me?"
When she turns he feels the earth tilt, just like it had in his dream world, but this time she's real, and before him, sobbing and trembling, and all he can think to do is kiss her.
So he does, and everything collides.
His hands snake up to he hair, and in the second it takes for him to cross to her he sees so many questions flicker across her eyes, he feels giddy. She stumbles against him as he tugs at her, and their noses squash painfully before he finally kisses her. His lips are dry and tears trail across hers. It is wet, uncomfortable and she's still biting back sobs, but it's the most real he's felt in years.
"I'm sorry," she's murmuring, and he crinkles his brow. He's never quite got why she's keeps apologising, so instead crushes her too him, and this time the kiss makes more sense.
By now her lips are swollen slightly, her hands are anchored across his back and he has one settle to her hip, the other has snaked up in her hair, delighting in the curls and wisps. He is drowning, falling and sinking all at once, and it's the most brilliant feeling, until finally, as his lips trail across her jaw she tips back, breathless.
"I love you," he murmurs, and she sniffles loudly. He almost laughs at the absurdity of it all, and is sure she'll push him away, but instead she's buried herself to his chest. Her hand has snuck up the back of his jumper, warming against his bare skin, and he can feel her trying to press into his being.
"I'm sorry for being such a bastard lately, but it's so bloody horrible being in love with you without you knowing, did you know that?"
She giggles lightly against his neck and for the first time in a long time he feels whole. "Unrequited love; an exquisite pain," he mutters, and expects her to laugh.
Instead she shakes her head quickly, pressing her lips to the underside of his jaw and he feels his knees buckle slightly. Now she giggles, delighting in finding his weakness, before leaning up to whisper.
"Not unrequited, it never was Harry."
He glances down for the first time and loses himself watching her. She is bright and bubbly and crying still against his chest, and he knows that when he marries her on a beach in South Africa, and when they're children are born, however many they may have, they will be the happiest day of his life, dreams be damned.
"I love you," he tells her, and kisses her slowly. She's humming against him and with an effort that he really shouldn't have, not so soon after surgery, he swings her tiny, giggling frame into his arms, and runs laughing up the stairs.
