Maine

The first postcard arrived a week after Hatter had left. Alice had spent those that week in a depressive slump, dragging herself back and forth to the dojo and doing little else with the remainder of her time. Having her mother give her the equivalent of a verbal slap in the face hadn't made anything easier; Carol had taken to Hatter and was very clear in the fact that her daughter had really screwed up this time.

"Mail for you." Carol handed her the post card and gave her hard look before walking back out of her room.

Alice looked at the front of the card. It had a picture of a tacky looking statue of Paul Bunyan and said BANGOR across the bottom. Alice, who was more than passingly familiar with maps, knew that was in Maine. Who did she know in Maine?

When she flipped over the postcard, her breath caught. She'd recognize that spiky handwriting anywhere. What the hell was Hatter doing in Maine? She'd assumed he gone home to Wonderland.

I miss you, Alice. I know you think I went back, but there's nothing for me there. Maine is lovely, if a bit chill this time of year. People here don't say much. I've bought a car, and a nice man named Nick helped me learn to drive it. Much easier than a Flamingo, yeah? One of my new favorite foods is this stuff they call chowder. It's like soup. Do you have chowder in New York? I'll write again once I decide where to go. Don't forget me. Love, Hatter

Alice read the postcard over three more times, until she couldn't see it anymore through the tears in her eyes. Hatter bought a car? He'd been wanting one, but Alice had told him repeatedly that there was no use for one in the city, and she hadn't wanted to teach him how to drive anyway. Just more selfishness on her part; if he had a car, he could hop in it and go whenever he wanted to. Which he was apparently now doing.

"Sounds like he's taking a trip," Carol said from the hall.

"I thought he went back," Alice said. "Why didn't he?"

Carol came to stand in the doorway. "Maybe he's trying to find something. Maybe, when he's ready, he'll come back."

"I don't know," Alice sniffled. "Why would he?"

"He loves you Alice," Carol said softly. "If he didn't, he wouldn't have written."

"If he loved me he wouldn't have left," Alice said stubbornly. Carol threw her hands in the air in defeat and walked away. Alice stuck the postcard to her bulletin board, and wondered if Hatter had gone to see that ridiculous statue.

AN: Ah! Postcards from Hatter! Most of the rest of the chapters will follow the format of this one. Please be advised that almost every spot that Hatter visits is a real place. Thank you, Google!