Jefferson awoke to his mother's voice screeching through the house. His bleary eyes darted around the small room to determine if he was alone or if it was him that she was attacking verbally. He was alone, which drew out a sigh of relief, but that was not the only thing noticed. There, at the end of his bed, was a brand new hat. A black top hat, specifically, with pink satin lining that was only a bit too large for his head (it seemed to swallow him) when the eager boy tried it on. It was beautiful.

So absorbed with his new hat, he was, that the child successfully managed to drown out his mother's shrieking voice. Only her voice though, for a few minutes later a second caught his attention. It was snotty and condescending and made him think of his bullies. Their young voices were much the same when he was around. Regardless, this new voice had his ear and instinct told him something big was happening even if he was unaware of what that 'it' was.

"…have no say in the matter, widow. It is the Queen's order that the boy be delivered. If you continue to interfere, I'm certain Her Majesty would have no trouble ordering your head on the side."

Jefferson took a shaky breath and held his new hat close. Even a child of his age understood the threat. He was to be killed. Letting himself take another shallow breath to calm down, the boy focused on the voices beyond his door, a little surprised when his mother started up once more. Until—

"That's enough, mama," Tarrant's calm voice interrupted her. "I'll go quietly, but I need a moment to speak to my brother first, please?"

Tarrant rarely used the word please, so whatever this was must have made him a little unsettled also. There were a few ticks in the silence that followed his request before a new gruff "Two minutes" gave permission. The next thing Jefferson knew, his door was opened and his big brother was closing it back quietly. Tarrant made his way over to the bed and sat down wearing a strange smile that just made his little brother worry more.

"What's going on?" the little boy questioned.

"The Red Queen has made an order, Jeff, so I'll be gone for a bit. Now, you be good for mama, take care of your hat, and don't go playing your trick without Thackery or Chess around. Promise?"

He must have looked ready to argue because Tarrant continued quickly with: "When I get back, I'll show you how to pattern a top hat."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Jeff. You promise to do what I told you?"

Jefferson looked up with a hesitant smile before answering. "Promise; just come back."

Tarrant's smile switched from strange to genuine as he ruffled the brown mop of hair before him only to take up the hat in his little brother's arms and drop it on said brother's head. With that, the red-haired boy left the room and soon the house escorted by the Red Queen's soldiers.

The child in his room, took off the giant hat and hugged it gently which helped because a few moments later Arianna entered her youngest son's room and was quite upset. She sputtered a few times, as though she could not find the words, but what changed when she began her accusations with enough venom to kill the child's heart.

"This is your fault! That Hightopp boy they wanted was you. Now you've gone and got your brother in trouble and lost us work!"

She looked ready to through anything at hand. Fortunately for the boy, she stormed out before that happened. This left the frightened five-year-old huddled on his bed clutching his brother's most recent work like a life-line.

Tarrant was terrified.

At nineteen, most people in Underland thought that they were invincible, but the red-headed teen knew better. When the soldiers appeared with a warrant for the Hightopp boy, he knew that it was intended for his little brother. He also knew that there was no way it would happen on his watch.

His watch – watch, tick tock, get it?!

So, when the messenger accompanying the soldiers informed their mother and Tarrant who was working at her side, he took a breath to get his head straight, planned what to tell Jeff, and then agreed to come quietly before he had the chance to lose his nerve. Telling Jefferson that the queen had made an order was true, mostly. She ordered the younger's head, not the elder's hat skills, but the child didn't need to know that. Also, Tarrant had already prepared for this event and he knew a secret around beheadings. All he needed was someone to sew him back together again and all would be well.

To that end, the young hatter had requested the assistance of Mallymkun the Dormouse and Nivens McTwisp. The rabbit would ensure that he did not become too separated while Mally was to stitch his head back on. A simple plan, risky too, but if it worked—

Tarrant had been in the employ of the White Queen for a few years, so was accustomed to a degree of oddness that surrounded a Royal's home. Even the gardens. Mirana was a queen who enjoyed simplicity. Her gardens were filled with neutral colors and smooth stone pathways. Her sister, however, was one who liked to show off. The garden was filled with giant green shrubs and trees with flowers. Red rose bushes dominated the landscape and the stone walkway went in a single line to a raised platform at the other end of the garden. It was along that path that the teen passed surrounded by a seeming sea of soldiers.

As they approached the platform, Tarrant's vibrant yellow eyes looked up to catch sight of a woman with a very large head wearing a small tiara. It made the hatter almost cringe to see a headpiece that would never fit the woman's head. Inside, he knew he should think her a lady, but that was the person who demanded his little brother be brought in for execution. She was a woman by birth; yet, would never be a lady in his eyes.

As he continued to gaze up at her, she moved slightly until her nose was held upwards as though she were trying to avoid an unpleasant scent. To his amusement, most of her count did the same. The hatter grinned. If she thought him low, then he could be more. Years of being best friends with the March Hare had made it so Madness was not a true stranger and Thackery's insanity had rubbed off a bit. Perhaps it was not the wisest plan, to play the mad man in front of the red queen, but anything had to be better than empty contempt.

"Who is this?" she bellowed.

Time help him, but even her voice was painful to endure. He had a quick image of her and his mother yelling at each other flash through his mind before the messenger who accompanied them went on to inform the queen that it was the Hightopp boy she had demanded be brought to her.

"Ah, the magic boy. Show me!"

Tarrant gave her a wide grin and laughed even though ever part of his being screamed that it was a bad idea.

"Show Her Majesty magic? This whole land is a thing of magic." He let out another crazed laugh. "I have been thinking a lot lately. Do you know, red queen, just why a raven is like a writing desk."

She looked positively furious.

"Enough of this nonsense, boy! Show me now." The order was screeched and so high in pitch that the hatter could not help but to wince through his mad smile.

"Show you… show you. All right. Stop me if you know this one: Twinkle, twinkle, little bat; how I wonder wh-"

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"

Tarrant cut himself off and quickly whipped his head around. Eyes passed over McTwisp and landed on a burly man with an enormous axe. Before he had too much time to focus on his executioner, another took hold of his hair, knocking off his top hat in the process.

His mind screamed for no one to worry and then there was nothing.

"…ant. Open them up for me."

The young hatter opened his eyes slowly. Mally was standing on his chest brandishing a thin needle with a strand of black thread though its eye. A beautiful sight for it meant that the rumors had been true. As Tarrant continued regaining his awareness, Mally the Dormouse jumped away from him to clean away the evidence of the queen's victim having ever been present. The little creature was meticulous. By the time her human companion was standing, there was no blood, thread, or much of anything else littering the cold stone floor.

"Thanks," the repaired boy began before he was hushed by the mothering creature. He had meant the word, but was more thankful still that she did not want to hear much as his voice was rough and his entire neck itched like mad.

Satisfied with all of her work, Mally nodded to the boy and left the room. A few minutes later, the White Rabbit, Nivens McTwisp, entered. His long ears were twitching and his left paw continued to inch over to the pocket watch on its chain. So like a rabbit.

"Wait an hour," McTwisp instructed, "Then go out this door, turn left, and go out the seventh door on the right. Hide behind the shrubberies until you are out of the palace. You can get home on your own."

"Jeff?"

"He's home."

Tarrant nodded, but couldn't help thinking that being home didn't necessarily make his little brother safe. Still, he waited the allotted time before following the rabbit's instructions out of the thrice damned palace. With every step beyond the walls, he felt both elation and apprehension. A circle of stitches was not something most people would miss and there was no way that he would worry Jefferson and their mother if it could be avoided. A quick though and the red-haired teen ripped off a strip of his shirt which he then tied around his sewn-up neck like a bow. That worked because once he was home, there was little chance that he would have to explain his condition. Breathing easier, he continued home.

Hours later he realized that his hat was gone.