AN: Frighteningly enough, whole parts of this wrote itself without me consciously realizing it… in particular, some of Hatter's lines. That's kind of scary.
Tell me your troubles and doubts
Giving me everything inside and out and
Love's strange, so real in the dark
Think of the tender things that we were working on
Simple Minds
The terrifying feeling of falling out of the sky was his first sensation. Then it ended abruptly and he stumbled, staggering as he gasped for breath. He could feel something gripping his hand.
"Breathe!" someone ordered, and he gasped in air. He turned to look, and it was a woman with long dark hair holding his hand. His knees suddenly gave way, and he fell to the ground. He looked around at the room he was in. It was dark and strange. Light came from one end, and a large rippling surface covered the other.
There were more people here, some in yellow clothing, others in black, and they all stared at him. He shuddered in fear. He didn't know where he was, or why they looked at him.
He couldn't even remember his name.
The woman shook his arm to get his attention. "Hatter? Hatter, are you alright?"
Was that his name? He stared up at her, the only thing that seemed safe in the entire room. "Who?" he asked piteously. "Is that me?" He needed confirmation that was his name.
"Oh god, it happened again!" she exclaimed, kneeling next to him. Her free hand came up to caress his face. The action was gentle and comforting, and he instinctively leaned into her touch. "Listen to me. You're Hatter. I'm Alice. I'm taking care of everything, alright?"
He nodded tentatively. He was lost and confused and willing to let someone so lovely and gentle tell him what to do.
One of the men in black came over to them. "Lady Alice!" he exclaimed. "How did you find him?"
The Alice woman looked up at the man. "You knew this would happen?"
Quickly the man explained, "We knew the Hatter had gone through the Looking Glass to your world, presumably to follow you. The King's technicians found the unauthorized journey during a routine system check. White Rabbit agents discovered the Hatter had contacted an old Resistance forger for paperwork prior to the unauthorized transfer."
"He snuck through?" The Alice woman seemed astonished. Her glance at Hatter where he cowered on the floor was surprised and impressed and a little dismayed.
"Yes. When the King realized this, he planned a mission to retrieve the Hatter for just this reason. These agents were just about to head through to find him." The man waved a hand at Hatter. "Hatter didn't get the Inoculation."
Alice's grip on Hatter tightened, but it felt protective, not angry. "Inoculation?" she asked.
"The Looking Glass strips all memory from Wonderland inhabitants that pass through it, unless they're given an Inoculation to combat the effects. All Suits assigned to White Rabbit get it."
"What about Jack?"
"His Majesty was inoculated by a White Rabbit Agent helping the Resistance before he went through to find you."
"Hatter's not… you're not going to arrest him or something, are you?"
"No, Lady, not at all. The mission was planned to retrieve and treat him at the Hospital of Dreams, then inoculate him properly, if he still wanted to follow you."
The man called Hatter stared up at the woman. For whatever reason, he understood he'd done this to himself, to be with her. So perhaps he loved her? That made sense. After all, she was obviously beautiful and kind and she must care about him too, because she said she'd take care of everything.
"So this memory loss can be reversed?"
"Yes, my Lady."
"Well, then, let's go." She looked back at Hatter. Her voice was noticeably softer when she spoke to him. "C'mon, stand up for me? We're going to get you some help."
He nodded and stood with her. He kept his eyes on her, his touchstone in this place where he recognized nothing and no one. The man in black led them out of the room into the sunlight. He couldn't restrain his gasp when he realized they'd stepped onto a ledge far above the ground.
"I know," Alice whispered to him. A wistful smile pulled at her lips. "I have to say, it's a little odd to see you bothered by it."
He shook his head. "Surprised," he told her, but couldn't explain why. "It's nice, the view I mean."
Her thumb stroked his hand. "You aren't afraid of heights. That's me," she told him.
"Alright," he said, and pulled her a little closer to him, away from the ledges as they walked. His instant protectiveness put a shine in her eyes. Now he was quite sure they loved one another.
Being greeted by the Caterpillar surprised Alice. She'd thought he'd died.
"Welcome back," he said soberly. His eyes surveyed Hatter, who kept nervously close to Alice's side. "Looking Glass Disease?"
"Yes," answered the man in black robes. "His Majesty should have warned you he'd need treatment."
The Caterpillar nodded. "This is the result of mad impulsiveness. My information about Hatter confirms it."
Alice glared at him. She didn't like what he implied. "Can you treat him or not?" she demanded.
Caterpillar blinked slowly at her. "I wonder, if he knew, what he might choose to forget."
"You are not going to talk around me," Alice stated. "You don't get to decide for him, and you don't get to experiment on him."
"And you do get to decide for him?" asked Caterpillar with a tilt of his head.
Hatter answered before Alice could. "Yes." Everyone looked at him with surprise, Alice in particular. He met her eyes before looking back at the Caterpillar. "I don't remember anything before just a little while ago, but I trust Alice. If she says I have to get some treatment, then I'll get it."
A slightly amused expression crossed Caterpillar's face. "Very well then." He led Alice and Hatter to a room with a bed. Two nurses in white were preparing the room. "Lie down," he ordered Hatter.
Nervously, Hatter obeyed after Alice gave him an encouraging nod, setting aside his jacket. He still yelped when the two people started strapping him to the bed.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Alice cried, reaching out to stop them.
"The treatment will essentially cause him to relive his entire life in his head. This sometimes leads to involuntary movements, convulsions, and attempts to act out the memories. Generally, restraining the patient is the safest course." Caterpillar's dry explanation mollified them both.
"Will it hurt him?" Alice asked, which earned her a relieved look from Hatter. He clearly wanted to know, but didn't want to ask.
Caterpillar gave Alice another one of his blank long looks. "Do you have memories that hurt?" he asked her bluntly.
She winced, going a little pale. "Some. Emotionally, not physically."
"The Hatter will relive all of his memories, but not consciously. Memories of physical activity may cause a physical reaction."
One of the nurses handed Caterpillar a syringe of yellow fluid, then both hastily retreated. "You should leave now," he told Alice, reaching for Hatter's arm.
"Why?"
Caterpillar looked surprised to be challenged. "You could be drawn in, trapped in Hatter's memories. It's best if you wait outside."
Alice frowned. "I don't know what you mean, but I'm staying with him," she asserted. Hatter gave her a grateful look.
"It's dangerous," Caterpillar objected.
"I don't care. I'm staying with him."
The medical man gave her a measuring look. Then he abruptly turned and injected Hatter, who made a little hurt noise as the needle jabbed into his arm. Caterpillar depressed the plunger, sending the yellow potion into Hatter's body. He pulled the needle out, and gave Alice a disapproving look. "I have no advice for you. No one has ever stayed in the room during this treatment." He did not wish her luck as he left.
Alice stuck her tongue out at his back as the door shut behind him. Hatter gave a little chuckle, stymied by the sudden sound of locks snapping into place. They exchanged a worried look.
"What's going to happen?" he asked.
Alice brushed his hair from his face, soothing him with her touch. "I don't know. But I'm here, we're together, that's all that matters."
"Alright," he said placidly. Then he yawned. "It's making me sleepy."
"Then sleep," Alice advised him. "I'm here."
Trustingly, Hatter's eyes fell closed.
Alice's first indicator that something strange was happening was the mist. It seemed to ooze from the walls, making the edges of the room indistinct. She'd waited until Hatter was truly asleep before curling up as best she could on the bed with him. The room itself held only the bed, nothing else. She sat up on the edge of the bed and eyed the mists nervously.
Then from somewhere, she heard the murmur of voices and laughter. It wasn't pleasant laughter. It was sharp, forced, and fake. She couldn't make out the words, but the room grew more and more hazy.
She was about to stand when a small hand grabbed her shirt. When she turned, instead of an adult Hatter strapped to a hospital bed, she found herself sitting next to a very young boy, both of them on a stained and worn mattress. He held the index finger of his other hand to his lips, signaling for silence.
Looking around, Alice could see the faint outlines of some sort of ramshackle kitchen room, as much junk room as kitchen. She realized the mattress lay beneath a stairwell, and the noises came from upstairs.
Since she stayed quiet, the boy let go of her shirt to wrap both his arms around his knees as he sat hunched against the brick wall. The noises upstairs changed, became quieter. As Alice listened closely, she flushed to realize what she was overhearing – the rhythmic pants and cries, the steady squeaks of an unstable bed-frame. Eventually, the noises grew to a crescendo, and the boy pressed his face against his knees, his hands moving to cover his ears. Finally, the voices quieted, and for a short time, there was peace.
But then a woman's voice was raised in anger. There was shouting, which ended with the sound of a slap and someone falling. A door slammed somewhere.
Alice glanced at the boy, whose large dark eyes met hers. Her heart was squeezed in her chest as Alice realized this was Hatter's childhood.
A door directly above slammed open. Heavy feet stomped down the stairs.
A feeling of fear and nerves swept through Alice. With a glance, she realized she felt what the younger Hatter felt.
The woman who came into view was barely dressed in a stained and torn negligee. Her thigh-high stockings had several runs, and her dark hair was frizzy and mussed. She muttered imprecations to herself as she crossed the room to a sink, setting a bottle of blue liquid beside her as she dampened a scrap of cloth serving as a towel, Alice guessed, and pressed it against her bruising cheek. She was boney and lean, the negligee barely hanging on to a pointy shoulder.
The woman turned then. To Alice's surprise, the woman didn't see her, just bent a glare on the silent boy beside her.
"What are you looking at?" she snarled at the boy. Her grimace revealed a dimple just like Hatter's.
"I'm not looking, Flower."
"Damn straight, you little bastard." She crossed the room and yanked the boy out of the bolt hole. She gave him a shake that rocked his head on his neck, and made him cry out. Terror swept through Alice as well. "See this?" she demanded, holding up the bottle. "Barely half a measure of Calm! That asshole stiffed me!" Her chortle was malicious. "He couldn't stiff me proper, so he stiffed me on the fee! Let that be a lesson to you – Payment Up Front." She dropped the boy, leaving him where he lay. His sniffles reached Alice's ears, but the woman ignored them. She clutched the bottle to her breast and headed for the stairs.
"Flower?" The boy's voice was weak and breathy from his crying. "Are we gonna eat today?"
The woman gave him a blank stare. "I am," was all she said as she left him.
The boy crawled back to his bolt hole, ignoring Alice, who silently wept in shared despair for his pains. He curled into a ball, wrapping his arms tight against a stomach no doubt growling with hunger.
"Payment up front," he muttered to himself.
Alice rubbed the tears from her eyes, but when she opened them, the boy was gone. She looked around. She still sat in the basement kitchen, on the same grimy mattress.
The door above banged open, and quick light footfalls hurried down the stairs. The younger Hatter appeared again, perhaps a bit older this time. His urgency and hunger made her heart leap into her throat. He had some bundle in his arms. Hatter made immediately for the bolt hole, and Alice dodged out of his way as he slipped by her, seeming not to see her. He set down the bundle, and carefully prized a brick from the wall. Behind it was a black dark hole, but Hatter fearlessly stuck his hand in, feeling around. Withdrawing his hand, he opened the bundle, and Alice saw he had several stale crumbling scones. One by one, he put them in his hiding place, keeping back only half of the last. As soon as the brick was slotted back in its hole, he quickly devoured the crumbling half a scone. He even went so far as to carefully pick up every crumb with a damp finger.
A slam above drew both Hatter's and Alice's eyes to the underside of the stairs. "Where are you, you brat?" came the shriek, and Hatter's eyes grew wide. Alice's pulse raced in terror.
For only the second time, he acknowledged Alice's presence, meeting her gaze wildly, and gesturing again for silence. Alice realized with shock that he could see her. She hadn't been entirely sure until this moment.
Flower stormed down the stairs, looking even skinnier than before. "You bastard!" she shrieked in fury.
Hatter cowered back, but the pale and boney hand that darted into his bolt hole seized on his thick hair, and dragged him out by it. Alice whimpered in shared fear.
"Please no, Flower!"
Flower threw him down on the stone floor. Then she kicked him hard in the ribs. Alice gasped in horror. "You stole my PASSION TEA, you nasty little snipe! WHAT DID YOU DO WITH IT?" When Hatter tried to get up, she slapped him hard.
Alice lurched up, fighting the fear, intending to throw Flower away from Hatter, but her hands passed right through the woman's body without any reaction! She tried again, getting between Flower and Hatter, but the woman's kick went right through Alice to land on Hatter unimpeded.
Hatter sobbed into the floor, trying to curl up enough to protect himself from Flower's attacks. "I poured it out! The Tea is bad for you!"
"Bad for me!" Flower sneered. "You little shit – the tea is the only way I can get through the goddamned day! You think I enjoy those asshole johns? Maybe you should find out how much fun it is? Huh? Maybe I'll sell your sweet virgin ass on the street for a measure of Bliss, how does that sound?" She never stopped the rain of kicks and blows on the boy, who writhed in pain.
Hatter cried in terror, "Stop! Please, Mum!"
In a towering inferno of rage, Flower roared, "DO NOT CALL ME MUM!" She might have killed him then, but her emaciated body couldn't support the energy of her fury. She soon stopped both the blows and the yelling. The only sound came from Hatter's hiccupping sobs.
"Remember this, boy. You're a bastard and you're worthless. If I thought I could get anything for you, I'd sell you so fast your head would spin." With that cruelty, Flower left him lying in the dust.
Tears almost blinded Alice. She couldn't believe this was the childhood her love had endured. She staggered over to the sink, nausea rising in her gut. But then, she brushed against a box, and it moved in response.
Alice realized suddenly that she could interact with the world around her, and whirling, she reached for the ragged towel. She could pick it up! She swiftly turned on the water, soaking the towel. When she looked back at Hatter, he was staring at her.
She moved softly towards him, not wanting to scare him more. Slow tears ran down his face, matching her own tears. As gently as she could, Alice reached for him. When he didn't shy away, she carefully cleaned away his tears and the blood. Flower had split his lip, bruised his face, and cut his forehead with her blows. A trickle of blood leaked from his ear, making Alice worry that Flower had ruptured Hatter's eardrum with one of her cuffs. Alice cleaned him up as best as she could, and he just let her.
She went to put the towel back, and when she was done, Hatter had crawled back into his bolt hole. Alice joined him there, and for a long time they just looked at each other.
Finally, he whispered, "You tried to stop her."
Alice hadn't realized he'd seen that. "Yeah. But I couldn't. I'm sorry."
He shrugged. "But you tried."
"Yeah."
After a little while, he sighed, and made himself comfortable in his corner. He kept his eyes on her, silent and grave, until at last his eyelids fluttered, then closed. For a second, it seemed he whispered to himself, and Alice shut her ears in fear he was reminding himself of Flower's cruel words. At last, he slept.
The mists blurred her vision again, but now she realized it meant she was moving into another memory. This time, they were still in the basement, but Hatter looked to be about ten years old. He looked slightly better fed too. He was assembling a tray. It looked like he was preparing a regular tea. His tentative contentment gave her relief.
He carefully lifted the tray and carried it up the stairs. Quickly, Alice followed.
The upstairs looked like a one room apartment. It had a seating area of battered and worn furniture, and a brass double bed against one wall. Alice could see Flower sprawled across the bed.
Hatter spared the unconscious whore a nervous glance as he crossed the room.
"Don't worry, kid. She's hopped up on Euphoria." The voice came from a man seated in one of the chairs. He wore a dapper linen suit, rumpled but still decent, with a straw hat on his head. Alice immediately thought he didn't look the type to be buying a two dollar whore like Flower. Young Hatter put the tea tray down in front of him. He leaned forward, lifting the lid of the chipped pot to peer inside. "Well done, Davey. Took your lessons to heart, did you?"
"Yes sir," Hatter answered shyly. Pleasure at the praise coiled through him, and Alice felt it.
"Good. My friends will be here soon. Why don't you go out for a while?" The man produced a couple of silver coins from a pocket. "Get yourself something to eat, maybe."
Hatter's eyes grew round. "Thanks, Griffin!" He took the coins reverently, secreting them in a pocket. Elation quickened his breathing.
"Don't forget to practice reading, too, Davey."
"I won't, I promise," Hatter swore. Alice realized that whoever this Griffin was, he'd had a positive impact on Hatter.
She followed the boy out into the aerial streets of Wonderland City. Hatter hesitated, no doubt deciding which way to go for his hours of freedom. As he selected a route and started off, he glanced back towards his house. Alice did too, and nearly stumbled to see several men headed there, including one who looked suspiciously like a younger Dodo!
She stopped to look closer, to make sure, but the mists rose up again.
The next memory started on the street. She was behind Hatter as he peered around a corner. He looked no older than he was in the last memory. As she stepped forward, a rock tumbled against her foot, and Hatter whirled to stare at her.
How he could see her and hear her and interact with her in these memories, she had no idea, but it was clear the memory-Hatter wasn't too surprised to see her. "Shh," he hissed. Then he waved her closer.
Leaning over him, she saw they were spying on his own front door. "Griffin and his friends are over," he whispered to her, curiosity and mischievousness leaching from him into her.
"What are they doing?" she asked. She had a suspicion it was a Resistance meeting, but she didn't dare tell this memory-Hatter that.
"I don't know."
"You like Griffin?" she wondered.
"Yeah." For the first time since this started, she saw his crooked dimpled smile. "He brings food and tea. Then he screws Flower, gets her high on Tea, and his friends come over and they talk. He sends me away usually."
"But you want to know what's going on."
"Yeah. It's alright though – I once thought maybe he wanted me like Flower, but he just teaches me stuff. And once he gave me money. He told me to get food, but I saved it instead. Maybe they're all screwing Flower together. I don't know."
Alice winced to hear a boy of barely ten talk about prostitution and pedophilia like it was perfectly normal. But to Hatter, it was perfectly normal. This was his life.
His shrewd eyes noted her reaction. "You don't like it," he observed.
"I don't like that your life is so… tricky."
He nodded with the wisdom of childhood. "Because of who you are."
Alice blinked. "Do you know who I am?"
He shrugged. "You're my friend. You come and go. Only I can see you."
"That doesn't bother you?"
"Why should it?"
Alice didn't have an answer for that.
"Shit!" the boy hissed suddenly, his whole body tensing. "Suits!" The electric zing of sudden danger tensed them both.
Alice followed his pointed finger to the contingent of the Queen's Suits marching down the ledge towards Hatter's home. With a sinking feeling, Alice guessed what sort of memory was about to play out here.
Hatter whimpered, but didn't move as the Suits broke into the house. Faint shouting could be heard, and then the pops of gunfire. Not long afterwards, the Suits emerged bearing a bloodied Griffin between them. They frog-marched the man away, dragging his nearly limp body along.
The boy's restraint was remarkable. He didn't charge out at the Suits, he didn't call out. He was frozen and pale, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the building. He turned his face up to give Alice one wild frightened look. Then once the Suits were out of sight, he ran across the narrow catwalk across the crevasse, to the house where the door hung limply open.
Alice followed, squelching her fear of heights to run after him. Inside a bloodbath greeted their horrified gaze. Three men were dead, two on the floor, one bleeding out over the worn chintz loveseat.
Flower still sprawled across the bed, an expression of drunken surprise forever frozen on her face, a trickle of blood leaking from the bullet hole above her left eye.
Young Hatter hardly spared his dead mother a glance. On the floor lay Griffin's straw hat. Alice realized with a jolt that she knew that hat. Hatter leaned over and picked up the hat. Grief tore a gasp from her throat.
A blur of memories followed, almost too fast for Alice's mind to comprehend. She recognized they were mostly about living on the streets of the City, lots of running and stealing and fights. Young Hatter survived on odd jobs and thievery. To her relief, he seemed to have a sixth sense about which people meant more than normal danger, and avoided them easily.
One memory in particular stood out, as a trio of older boys tried to take a bundle of food away from a thirteen year old Hatter. One of the boys was idly sorting through it as the others punched Hatter. But then one of the punchers grabbed the straw hat from Hatter's head, throwing it down and stomping on it. With a roar of anger, Hatter wrenched his right arm free from the other's grasp, and threw a wild punch at the other boy. The crunch of breaking jawbone seemed to almost echo. The injured boy cried out and fell back. Another right hook to the gut of the second boy took him out, and the third dropped the bag of food and fled.
Young Hatter gaped a moment as the two boys writhing at his feet. He staggered over to gather up his hat and his food. As he straightened, his eyes met Alice's. They were both confused and surprised by the sudden power in his right arm. Then he jerked his chin, as if to invite her to follow him, but she lost him as he ran off.
The next memory that captured her made her wonder about the nature of this potion Caterpillar had given Hatter.
The mists didn't quite recede completely this time, though she could tell it was some sort of warehouse room. Other people filled the area, laughing, talking, or singing wildly. It sounded like a drunken party. Most of them seemed young, dirty and tattered. A dizzy feeling filled Alice, as if she'd had just one too many.
She had to look to find Hatter, slipping through the room, dodging couples and staggering individuals. As one pair of girls toasted each other with familiar apothecary bottles, slugging back measures of pink liquid, Alice realized she was in the Wonderland equivalent of a rave.
She found Hatter half conscious on a torn sofa, sprawled against the ripped fabric and leaking stuffing, straw hat perched on his wild hair. He appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen years old.
The smile he gave her was an early precursor to his seductive grin. It didn't work as well on an adolescent's face as it did on the man she knew he'd become.
To everyone else in the room, he was grinning at nothing and talking to himself. Not at all unusual for a Tea Party, apparently.
"Ah, Dark Lady!" he crooned to her. He beckoned her closer. In his other hand, she saw an empty bottle.
"What did you take?" she asked with concern.
"A three-quarter measure of Bliss. And here you are!" he answered with a laugh.
Alice frowned. "You did this… for me?" That made no sense to her fuzzy mind.
His eyes slipped shut a moment, before opening and focusing on her with the intensity of the completely smashed. "I've been looking for you," he told her seriously. "Where do you go, my beautiful friend?" His hand reached out to her, and she couldn't resist taking it.
"I'm always here, Hatter."
He grinned again. "Yeah, you must be, 'cause how would you know they all call me Hatter now if you weren't?" He grunted and shifted on the couch, yawning into his elbow. His gaze turned myopic as he blinked at her. The Tea was making him pass out.
"Take me with you, when you go?" he asked her softly.
He fell asleep before she could answer.
The next memory was just as fuzzy, and much warmer. Too warm, in fact, as a flush of arousal ripped through her. Shocked, it took a moment before Alice registered what she was seeing, and when she did, she quickly turned and covered her ears as she shut her eyes.
She really didn't want to know anything about Hatter losing his virginity.
More blurry memories followed, all of them tinted with the haze of Tea usage. Alice swallowed hard and tried not to weep for the damage a teenaged Hatter did to himself. Teas and women, fights and flights, all played out before her eyes like a film in fast-forward. She couldn't help but notice certain trends. Hatter occasionally looking over his shoulder, as if seeing a glimpse of her from time to time. His predilection for women that looked nothing like her – blonde and buxom bimbos. His mad chuckle when faced with danger or adversity. At least seemed he never killed anyone, nor did he sell himself like his mother had. He conned and he smuggled and he wasted his small profits on Tea rather than food most of the time.
The replay slowed at last. A Tea Party was raided. They were looking for Resistance members. A twenty year old Hatter got on the wrong side of a Suit in the ensuing riot. Alice cried out as the gunshot ripped through him, just above his hip. He collapsed against a wall, and the Suit left him to bleed out.
Alice knelt beside him as the screaming chaos swirled around him. "Oh god, Hatter!" she wailed.
He looked up at her, and his smirk was darkly unsurprised. "Hello Dark Lady." Frantic, Alice searched for something to staunch the blood. Of course she found nothing, and she ended up pressing her bare hands against the wounds as he hissed in pain. She apologized for hurting him through her tears, but he shook his head. "You come when I hurt, I get it now."
She gaped at him, but his smile was ironic. His hand came up and brushed her cheek. "You come and you go and you cry for me. Oysters call you angels, did you know that?" His eyes closed, then opened again. "My Dark Lady. If I die, can I go with you?"
Shocked, Alice snapped, "Don't you dare die on me, Hatter. Don't you dare!"
When he passed out, the mists overwhelmed her.
Alice wept into her blood-free hands. Now she knew why he wore a Kevlar vest.
The sun shone pale through the grimy windows. The one room apartment bore an eerie resemblance to the house Hatter had grown up in.
On the bed, sprawled in familiar mockery, lay Hatter. He wore only a pair of loose pants. She could see the still healing gunshot wound, above the low slung waistband. He was sweating and shivering at the same time, despite the temperate air. Concerned for his health, Alice immediately went to the sink and dampened a towel. The familiarity of this memory frightened her, but she still went to his side and gently washed away the sweat on his brow.
Dark eyes fluttered open, taking her in without surprise. They closed again, and he sighed heavily. "And now the hallucinations start," he muttered. Resignation colored the emotion she got from him.
Still, she couldn't keep the fond smile from her face, or resist teasing him. "You couldn't hallucinate something better than this?" she asked.
He looked at her with some surprise, perhaps that she spoke, or at the affection in her face and tone. "What could be better than the attentions of a lovely woman?" he asked, and she blushed at his flirtation.
"You can't be that sick if you feel well enough to flirt, Hatter," she pointed out.
He groaned and shifted on the bed. "Not sick," he told her. "Drying out."
She paused in her ministrations. "Drying out?" she repeated.
"No more Tea for me," he sang weakly. "Dry as a well. Sort of. Dry as dry toast. Dry as.." Before he could finish the thought, he whined deep in the back of his throat and curled onto his side. Alice feared to touch him.
"Does it hurt?" she asked.
He nodded, breathing shallowly with his whole body tense. Then finally on a sigh, he relaxed. He looked at her as if he'd expected her to flee, and was pleased and relieved when she didn't.
"Who are you?" he whispered.
"I'm Alice," she told him, and he smiled weakly.
"Yeah, right. You're not even blonde." She could see his exhaustion taking him over.
"I'm not The Alice. I'm your Alice," she said, gently brushing her fingers through his hair. He sighed again, as if deeply comforted, and drifted to sleep.
Nighttime in Wonderland City. Alice trusted that one of the shadowed figures was Hatter, but the other she couldn't recognize until he spoke.
"You owe us, Hatter," growled Dodo. "We could have left you to die at that raid. You're lucky I recognized Griffin's whore's little boy in the wretched tea-head you'd become."
Hatter's tense body telegraphed his anger and discomfort. "What the hell do you want, Dodo?"
"The Tea House, Hatter," drawled Dodo.
"No way. I'm dry now, I want to stay that way."
"You don't actually have to drink any, you idiot. A fast talker like you should have no problem scoring a position as a bargainer."
"And then what?"
"Observe and report."
"What? The hell–?"
"Shipments, assets, numbers of Suits. Any gossip, anything you hear about the Queen's plans," Dodo snarled, as if he'd lost patience.
"And if I won't?"
Dodo's silence was threat enough, but the man could never resist running his mouth. "Of course, we can't allow the chance of any liability running about. You could take your chances on your own, but frankly, it's either the Queen and the Teas, or us. Take your pick."
Alice could feel Hatter's fury and frustration. He didn't ask to be saved by the Resistance, and now they had him pinned between a rock and a hard place.
"Fine, damn it. I'll find a way in."
Hatter finally looked like the man she'd met, though she knew this memory was still several years before that fateful day. He became a fast talking charmer, conning people out of their money with a sly suggestion and a grin, smoothly skimming a bit off the top for himself before reporting the trades to Dupre, who ran the Tea House.
Alice watched the day Suits arrived to arrest Dupre. She could feel Hatter's smug amusement, and she wondered if she'd missed something in the blur of memories, some way Hatter might have arranged this. They were led by a tall man with thick dark hair and olive skin, looking like nothing so much as a Jersey City Mafioso. Alice gasped when she realized she was looking at Mad March, pre-bunny head.
When the Ten of Clubs arrived, Alice slipped closer to Hatter. It seemed like Hatter spared her a glance, so like the warning looks she knew from the man, that she easily fell into hiding behind him.
Ten sneered down at the huddling owner. "Her Majesty was … less than pleased with your last payment, Dupre. You were two days late."
"I couldn't help it! I didn't have the assets! I brought it over as soon as I had it all!"
"Her Majesty expects shipments of Tea to be paid for ON TIME." Ten jerked his chin, and the Suits carried the wailing and protesting man away. Ten's eyes swept the room, evaluating. "The Queen requires new management for this Tea House," he announced.
Alice knew the moment resolve steeled Hatter's spine.
"I'll do it," he said, his voice deliberately nonchalant. Alice could feel the tension and excitement within him. It was a huge and dangerous opportunity.
Ten eyed him suspiciously. "Who are you?"
Hatter grinned. "They call me Hatter." He swept the hat from his head, performing a neat little roll and toss with it, before giving a mocking bow. "Best Bargainer in the place."
The Ten of Clubs made a little harrumph noise. "Well, as a bargainer, you ought to be able to keep this place in the black. Queen's cut is due the fifth of each month." He looked around at the others. "Hatter's in charge now."
With that, the Ten and the rest of the Suits swept out of the Tea House.
Dead silence filled the room. Alice felt as tense and worried as everyone else seemed to feel. Then Hatter gave everyone a toothy grin, as much baring of teeth as a smile. "Well, you heard the man. New Management doesn't mean new rules. Do you want your Tea or not?" The babble of voices filled the air as he strode confidently down the hall to the office. Alice rushed after him.
The mess in the office was testament to the rough treatment a failed Tea House owner could receive at the hands of the Suits. Hatter didn't even try to clean up. He shut the door firmly, and only righted a chair before flopping into it.
For a long time, he sat silently, rubbing his temples. Alice waited. She felt the draining fade of adrenaline in him, and the resignation and caution.
When he looked up, he didn't seem to see her clearly. He looked around the room, and sighed. "That probably wasn't my smartest move," he said lowly. Then he chuckled. "I can imagine you chastising me for it, for some reason."
"You did paint a very large target on your back just then," Alice said.
But to her amazement, he didn't hear her. "I sometimes wonder, was it the Tea? Or was it just my imagination?" he went on softly. Alice crossed to him, and waved her hand right in front of his face, but he didn't even blink. He couldn't see her or hear her anymore.
"Right, talking to yourself, Hatter old boy. Brilliant – they'll put 'Mad' before 'Hatter' in no time at all." Hatter stood and with a determined expression, started sorting through the papers on Dupre's desk.
Alice stood back and sadly waited for the mists.
Though she should have expected it, the next clear memory still took her by surprise.
"Hatter! Hatter!"
"Ratty. What the blue blazes do you want? Stay off the grass!"
"I found her, Hatter. She's here, and she's looking for her boyfriend!"
"Her who? The love of your life?" Cruel amusement coiled through his voice, as if Hatter couldn't possibly imagine a woman who'd be interested in Ratty.
"It's ALICE, Hatter. THE Alice. Of Legend!" The smelly man nearly danced in place with excitement.
Alice could feel Hatter's cynicism. In the years since taking over the Tea House, Hatter had grown bitter and cynical, almost cruel in his disregard for others. He faced the world with utter indifference now, placating the Suits, feeding the Resistance, skimming a pocket-lining profit from both without a single qualm. He'd become grim. He still grinned and flirted, conned and cajoled. He talked women into his bed without hardly trying, convinced Suits to spill privileged information by feigning a loyal and sympathetic ear, and collected favors from the Resistance by supplying vital needs, all without a single sense of conviction or care in his heart.
Emotionally, Hatter was a dead man. Alice knew that wasn't entirely true, but she couldn't help wonder what it was about her that brought him back to life.
Now she would see it all, from Hatter's point of view, feeling what Hatter felt. The anticipation stole the breath from her lungs.
When Ratty brought memory-Alice into the room, the watching Alice cringed. First of all, she had no idea she'd looked so very awful. Second, Hatter's tone as he spoke so clearly reeked of cynicism. And yet…. she could feel the stirrings of interest and fascination in him. Those only grew, tempered with amusement as memory-Alice twitched beneath his gaze.
She tagged along, a shadow to her own adventure, watching it all play out in Hatter's memories. She felt as compassion stirred in Hatter for the first time in ages as he offered memory-Alice his hand to ease her fears, and how it grew, fed by her own compassion for the refugees in the Great Library. She felt the suspicion of Owl's shotgun, the hot fury that Dodo actually shot him after all these years. His impressed amazement as she took out Dodo made Alice blush, as did the amused rush of lust that coiled through him as he secretly admired her legs while explaining the significance of the Stone of Wonderland.
Grim determination and quick thinking got them into the smuggling boat and away from Mad March. There was something wistful in him as he suggested going through the Glass with her, an echo of the boy who wanted to follow his Dark Lady away from all this. The real Alice's heart ached for him, wondering if his thoughts of his Dark Lady were real, or the product of this treatment to regain his memories.
The flight from the Jabberwock frustrated and terrified him – he might not be falling for Alice yet, but he clearly didn't want to see her get eaten. Charlie baffled him. But the shocked realization that Wonderland could be something more, something better, nearly knocked Alice over. She hadn't seen the expression on his face at the time from her seat behind him, but this time she could. Hatter looked out on the wasted remains of the Kingdom of the Knights, and a fierce longing for that past glory, that better world, was a rush that made all of her tingle with energy.
That night, she heard at last his muttered words by the fire. "That Jack's a lucky guy," he murmured with wry jealousy.
"Oh, Hatter," Alice sighed, wishing she could reassure him. She could feel how he wanted to earn her regard, and that even he himself found it confusing and strange how quickly he'd gone from simple lust and using her, to wanting to protect her. She followed him to where he'd settled down by the barn. She couldn't hear his thoughts, but she knew that he watched her sit by the fire for a long time, until she finally moved to Charlie's ramshackle bed. That wistful feeling returned as Hatter's dark eyes looked across the camp at memory-Alice's still form.
She owed him a massive apology, she realized as she watched the fear and anger cross his face when he realized memory-Alice had left in the night. Still, his swift resolve and determination to find the runaway impressed Alice.
She was just as amazed as Hatter when Charlie's babbled directions in the Casino led precisely to a middle-aged receptionist, who blandly and disinterestedly pointed them down a hall. The first door Hatter opened led to the familiar foyer of Alice's childhood home, much to her shock. When he blithely opened the sliding door and almost fell forward, it was all she could do to not try to grab him back.
The desperation in his order to jump made her shiver. She had no idea how terrified he'd been in that moment that he'd lose her.
Alice bobbed along like a balloon on a string as the trio raced to escape the Casino. She discovered even if she didn't try to keep up, her perceptions were dragged along without her control, as if she had no body at all at this point, just a consciousness able to observe the action.
Her own terror of heights made her clench her eyes shut. Somehow, she still felt the rush of the wind, and the vibration of the Flamingo, though she might have sworn she was standing still.
"I suppose it's his lofty airs and graces?" Hatter asked memory-Alice with a renewed sense of bitterness at the world at large.
"He doesn't have airs and graces," she heard herself contradict.
The terrifying fall ended with a confusing mess of darkness and mists and disorientation.
Alice cursed her own willful blindness. Watching memory-Alice fight with Hatter on that beach, knowing how her unfairness wounded him made Alice cringe with regret. His frustration and desperation for acknowledgement pierced her.
She had no choice but to follow him back along the lakeshore to the boat. He muttered to himself the whole way, practically stomping through the woods. When she got close enough to hear him clearly, his words stopped her heart.
"Worthless… bastard… idiot…. couldn't possibly…. what does she see in that damned Suit? Payment up front, don't get attached, you moron." He scourged himself with his own words, trying to drive his feelings of longing for Alice out of himself. "She's not your Alice, she never will be."
She wanted desperately to speak to him, reassure him, tell him to just hang on, and eventually Alice would realize how important he was to her. Her hands reached out for him, but like with Flower, they passed through his shoulder. Alice moaned with dismay when she remembered she was now just a passive phantom.
Hatter filled himself with grim implacability in the journey back to the City. Alice was surprised to see that his target was Dormie, who clearly wasn't the useless narcoleptic Alice had thought. Message delivered, Hatter headed back to the lake.
He drove himself hard, and anger again cut him when he found Charlie asleep and memory-Alice nowhere to be found. But up on the hill, all his fierce mental fortifications crumbled.
Alice had never seen herself in someone else's eyes quite the way Hatter saw her in that moment. Wearing his coat again made his breath catch, like she was wearing a part of him, willingly. Alice could feel the yearning rise up in him, mingled still with desire, but also respect and admiration, and appreciation. And part of his determination to fight the Queen at last was fueled by his need to be something better in her eyes. He'd fallen for her by then, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for her.
Watching him and memory-Alice together, Alice longed to stop the treatment, just so she could tell him everything she thought about him – how she loved him, how she admired his strength, how she didn't care about the Tea, how Flower and Dodo were completely wrong about him.
She might have thrown something at Jack herself if she'd been able to, damn his wretched timing. The ferocity with which Hatter defended her warmed Alice.
Unfortunately, she was almost immediately frozen with horror at the crushing feeling of worthlessness that she felt from Hatter, as Jack's derisive words ground him down like a weed beneath a boot heel.
She hadn't realized what measure of courage it had taken for Hatter to chuckle and smile and send her away with Jack. He truly felt heartbroken, believing she'd chosen Jack over him. She watched as Hatter scrambled back up the hill to watch memory-Alice ride away, Charlie at his shoulder.
The awkward kindness he showed Charlie then was like a flashback to the eager boy who'd been so happy with Griffin's praise. But it merely masked the dead numbness losing her had caused.
Alice recognized the flicker of a plan on Hatter's face when they returned to the camp, and he paused to look at the horses. A few glib lies later, Hatter was riding off on Charlie's spare mount.
It didn't surprise her this time that he'd followed. She felt his exasperation with Charlie, his resolution to rescue her, and his disbelief and sense of crushing failure when the Suits took him down and Charlie ran away. Alice had been dragged away first, so she never saw what happened next.
"So, Hatter…. following in your predecessor's footsteps, yeah?" Mad March robotically taunted.
Hatter sneered. "Dupre was a bumbling idiot. He couldn't find his arse with both hands." His grin was cocky and challenging. "The Tea House didn't start supplying the Resistance until I was in charge."
Mad March cocked his rabbit head. "I mean gettin' beheaded, moron. But since you just copped to it – Where's the Great Library?"
"Sod off."
"Where's the Great Library?"
Hatter spat at March's feet.
"Where's the Great Library?"
Hatter just gave the assassin a defiant look.
Finally, in a swift movement, Mad March whipped out his gun and slammed the butt of it against Hatter's head. The sudden dive into unconsciousness and mists made Alice cry out in surprise.
She didn't want to watch, but she felt she had to witness it. The 'doctors' didn't even ask Hatter any questions. They just went at him – first with bludgeons, then with electric prods. Alice wept as she watched, feeling his grim determination to survive the torture.
And yet, it could have been so much worse. Dee and Dum simply abused him, enjoying his flinches, his pain, but there was no attempt to dissect him psychologically as they had with Alice. The Truth Room itself pulsed and swirled with a motion-sickness-inducing mix of black and green, but nothing indicated it was keyed directly into Hatter's mind.
Perhaps they thought he'd break under physical duress? Alice almost scoffed at their stupidity if that's what they thought. Her Hatter was braver, stronger, and smarter than that.
Then Mad March appeared. Hatter babbled nonsense, perhaps trying to make the Queen's flunky think he'd lost his mind, but the glare he gave March when asked again about the Library sort of blew that bluff.
Alice cheered when Hatter managed to evade the killing stab and free himself. He smashed March's head, and followed that up with several stomps to the mechanical innards. The dead man's neck bled sluggishly as Hatter claimed the knife to free his left wrist.
Hatter paused, staring down at March. Alice realized with a jolt that for the first time ever, Hatter had actually killed someone. There'd been so much violence in his life, and yet he'd never actually taken a life before. The man himself seemed to have the same realization, because he staggered sideways suddenly, and wretched several dry heaves before collecting himself. Alice desperately wanted to comfort him, but couldn't. She followed as he found his jacket and hat, then combed the Casino looking for her.
Watching their reunion from the outside, Alice gasped at the expression of bliss on Hatter's face when memory-Alice hugged him. It reminded her forcibly of how he'd looked high on Bliss Tea at the Tea Party when they'd talked. This is what she did to him? Made him happier than he'd ever been? Alice cradled the responsibility for Hatter's heart close to her, owning it, embracing it. His fierce elation when memory-Alice told him she trusted him completely gave the watching Alice a giddy rush.
Alice shuddered with the tension and adrenaline of the confrontation with the Suits and with her father. When Hatter shot the man who shot her father, Alice realized he felt nothing of the horror and remorse that flooded him after killing March. All he felt was protection towards Alice, and anger towards the one who'd threatened her. Charlie was wrong; Hatter was no mere Harbinger, he was Alice's true Paladin.
She could feel his regret as he pulled memory-Alice from her dead father's side. Watching, Alice could hardly keep up with the memories that followed: The collapse of the Casino, the confrontation with the Queen, Jack taking charge swiftly and efficiently. She remembered for herself the excuses Hatter made to leave her with the other Oysters, claiming he needed to check on his shop. Hatter felt bewildered and off-balance from the reversals of the day – his near death at the hands of March and the Tweedle twins, Alice's near death, and the overthrow of the Queen. But mostly, Alice could tell, Hatter was unsettled by the force and strength of his own emotions about her.
He couldn't look at Alice without wanting her. Desire, admiration, and appreciation all got muddled in his head with a wistful wishful feeling, a simple need to be with her. As she watched his life play out in his memories, Alice longed to hold him close and keep him forever. In her heart, she willingly labeled her feelings for him as love, because how could she not love a brave and decent man who she now knew better than she knew herself? She wondered if she might undergo the same treatment, so Hatter could learn everything about her in turn.
Hatter sat for a long time in his ruined home. Almost nothing had escaped the predations of Suits and looters. All of the teas, his reel to reel and headphones, most of his wardrobe, even some of his furniture had been stolen. The poor grass was trampled flat. She couldn't hear his thoughts, only feel his emotions which were settling, calming. Finally, he seemed to reach a level of resolution, and he jumped to his feet.
He hurried to the Looking Glass hall, following the line of Scarabs flying Oysters across from the Casino to journey home. And then, so much became clear for Alice, as she watched him watch Jack and memory-Alice embrace, feeling the gut wrenching loss and unworthiness. Hatter believed Alice had reconciled with Jack!
His conversation with her was stilted, uncomfortable. Alice could feel his panic, his desperation, his passionate longing for her, all covered up with a need to appear normal, to seem perfectly at ease.
When memory-Alice vanished through the Glass at last, Hatter stood staring after her for a long minute. Hovering at his shoulder, Alice could feel his heartbreak. He spared one harsh jealous glare at Jack, then spun on a heel and returned to his shop.
Days as hollow and meaningless as the ones before he'd met Alice followed. Alice learned that Hatter kept a secret safe, full of what passed for Wonderland currency – bits of un-molded gold, small gems and valuables, and a case of colorful vials of Tea. Judging from the vibrant shades, these were undiluted Teas, unlabeled, but no doubt Hatter knew them well.
One night, in the darkest hour, she sat beside him crying as waves of misery poured off him. She gasped when he suddenly sat up on the couch and lurched to his feet. He staggered to the safe, withdrawing the case, and plucking a vial of hot pink from it. Hatter stared at the Tea in his hand for a long minute, and Alice prayed he'd make the right choice.
At long last, despite the misery that still gripped him, Hatter replaced the vial and case, and returned to the couch.
Morning light shone through the windows, much earlier than Alice would have expected. Hatter unearthed a carpet bag from a storage room, and opening a safe, filled it with almost all his remaining valuables.
Silent and resolute, he stole through the streets of Wonderland, his phantom observer close behind.
He paused outside a ramshackle clock shop closed and locked, checking around to make sure no one saw him, before slipping down an alley to a dark side door.
He knocked in a complicated pattern. Alice unconsciously held her breath as he waited for a response.
A small panel slid open. The watery blue eye took in Hatter for a long second, then shut and the sound of latches scraping came faintly through the thick wooden door.
"Hatter," wheezed the ancient man who opened the portal, his skeletal body bowed and gray. He waved a hand, drawing the young tea house owner forward.
Inside, the shop was cluttered and dark. Like Hatter, this man clearly lived in his own back room. A narrow bed stood shoved against one wall, near a desk, while shelves of silent clocks and knick-knacks surrounded them. A faded curtain led into the front, but neither the man nor Hatter made any move towards it.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" asked the old man.
"I need papers," Hatter stated bluntly.
"Papers?"
"For the other side."
The man raised a grayed brow. "Forgeries."
"Whatever you want to call it."
The man snickered breathily.
"I can pay you, Turtle. All of your costs, covered. And I need a contact for currency conversion."
Shrewd old eyes swept over Hatter. "The heat is on?"
"What does it matter?"
"Trouble for you could become trouble for me. What, you piss off the new King already?"
Hatter's face took on the same implacable expression it had for Dodo. "It's me own business, Turtle. It won't come looking for you."
"And how are you going to get through the Glass, then?"
"I have my ways."
The two eyed each other warily. Finally Turtle nodded. "Very well. I can do the papers, and I can convert the currency. What have you got?"
A long bargaining session followed, where Hatter's valuables were assessed one by one. Eventually, Turtle agreed to provide an ID, passport, and green card, plus two hundred dollars in exchange for what Hatter had on him.
The New Yorker in Alice winced. He could have done much better had he brought some of those jewels to pawn in the city.
The delivery date was set for two days from now.
Hatter spent the intervening time casing the Looking Glass Hall. When he had his papers in hand, he approached a technician, who for a hefty bribe of Hatter's remaining Wonderland wealth, set the Glass to the right destination and time before leaving for the day. That technician also distracted the Suit guard long enough for Hatter to slip into the Hall undetected.
Hatter stood looking at himself in the Glass for a minute. Alice could feel his hope, his desperation, and his need for her. Longing overcame his hesitation, and he stepped into the Glass with a deep breath.
For one moment, Alice felt the exact same wild falling suffocating sensation she remembered from her trips through the Looking Glass, before black unconsciousness overtook her and Hatter both.
to be continued
