Sorry for the longtime no updates that have been happening lately. I've been just swamped with life. I have scholarship essays and letters to write up seemingly every night on top of the work I have to do for school... AP English and AP Bio are evil in the best way possible. Also I've been pulling 7-9 practices for musical on week days and 9-1 practices on Saturday. Life is hectic and it's getting to me bad. I hope you guys don't mind the crazy update schedule! Thanks for all the great reviews! I appreciate them so much and everytime I recieve one I try to hunker down at my PC and write at least 100 words. Please know that your reviews, faves and follows mean so much to me! Now, enjoy!

"Once upon a time there was a man who loved his craft more than anything, he was a hatter and hatting was what he liked best. He made Balmorals, Top Hats, Bonnets, Dress hats, Fascinators, Flat caps, Pill Box hats, Rain caps, and woolen winter creations. From time to time he was truly allowed to freely practice his craft when given a challenge, perhaps a fez for a doctor, or a Novelty hat for some party or event attended by a lord, lady, or even a queen!" He seemed rather jolly and jovial, but suddenly his excitement cut off and ended. He seemed blank, empty, and a little sad.

"He was the talk of the town, but they all knew he wasn't like them. He wasn't one of them. He was wealthy, but of new money where they were of old. He wasn't titled beside his craft and they owed him no respect. Why would they? He always had frizzy too orange to be red ginger hair, and pale skin, not to mention the stains of mercury on his fingers from too many years of touching mercury. They called him mad, the Mad Hatter, and they still do today. However in those days he never really was mad. He was simply… quirky, and in love with his work. After all, he loved his work most of all… or so he had thought."

Alice looked at him. He looked so sad and broken. She had never imagined that people would be cruel to him merely for his looks when a man of his talent should have been respected. In all honesty, and as much as it shamed her to think as much as a patient, she thought that he was quite handsome. His hair might be frizzy and look very unkempt at the moment, but she knew that a brushing and a cutting would do him well. His skin was quite pale, almost to an extreme, but she herself had always been quite fair also. It was often looked upon at the time as a sign of wealth and good breeding to be pale, but she saw that most probably believed him to be sickly. She knew better however, because the paleness of his skin only served to enhance the beauty of his green eyes. Those green eyes looked about ready to cry as he told his story.

He sighed and shook his head, "Though he never took into account the one thing he loved more than hats, one thing more precious, and one thing more irreplaceable. It only took a tragedy to show him that there was something that he couldn't live without." He took a few moments to place the tea things they had used on a tray in order to make them easy to carry indoors. It seemed to soothe him for a moment. Taking a deep breath he looked up directly into Alice's eyes. "There was nothing more important to him than work… until his family was brutally murdered one night while he was away."

Alice gasped, was this truly his story? Why hadn't she heard about it if it were true? She supposed that the reason why she hadn't was that the news from the lower class never seemed to make it to the aristocracy and the rich. Also it wasn't exactly the type of news one would hear at a social gathering, but rather in the hushed whispers of gossip that Alice personally tried to avoid if possible. In her days of galas, balls and parties her focus was never on the event itself or the latest gossip, her attention was always fully centered on ways in which she could escape or at the very least hide.

"Being that you seem to be an intelligent young woman I will ask you this: What do you think such a shock would do to a man? What would it do to him to know that his parents and siblings had all been killed while he was not around and that perhaps if he were there they would all still be alive? What would it do to him to walk into his home only to see lifeless forms bleeding on the floor without any knowledge of who or what had killed them? What would it do to him to know that the one responsible was still at large today?"

He seemed angry now and his eyes were burning with rage. This was the first time that she had truly seen his mad side. Until now he had always seemed simply quirky or odd but now he was truly showing his insanity. It frightened Alice to her very core and she didn't know what to do. She began to regret the moment she decided to come to work at the mad house in the first place. It wasn't where she belonged, or was it? She certainly did not belong in normal society, a trait that she shared with many of the patients that were residents of Bedlam. She didn't like such thoughts and instead she tried to understand the man before her. She knew that behind this sudden surge of anger and lapse in sanity there was a man who had shown himself to be relatively sane and self-aware. She hoped that speaking to him in a tranquil manner would be all that it took to calm him, especially because she did not know what else she could try. She knew in her heart that he wouldn't hurt her, he wasn't that sort of man, even knowing so little about him she knew that, but still fear struck her heart. "It would make a man sad, very sad." She said as calmly as she could. "It would break his heart, shatter it in a million pieces and eventually drive him to the brink of madness." She answered honestly not only because it was necessary in this instance, but also because the words rolled off her tongue thoughtlessly.

He looked at her with something in his eyes that she didn't quite understand. Her best guess was a mixture of intrigue, shock, and something somewhat akin to happiness but yet not quite truly happy. He seemed to calm rapidly after she spoke, though he continued on in the third person, he seemed somewhat more composed compared to moments previous. "He was heartbroken." He said quickly as to confirm her statement. Looking down at his feet he continued, "His heartache drove him mad and made him vengeful. The police had no leads and he knew that without help he would hunt down the man or men responsible and kill them. He didn't know how or when he would do so, and yet the thought consumed him until he hardly knew his own name anymore." He sighed "He knew that it wouldn't bring his family back and he didn't care, he wanted blood for blood and would do anything to get it. In the meantime however such emotions were corrupting the man's soul and before he could act upon his bloodthirsty urges, he realized that it was far from what his family would have wanted. So to keep him safe from himself and with no other reason for living he checked himself into an asylum, to rot away for his whole life, alone and safe wrapped up in his misery."

Alice felt a knot in her chest, it was as if a part of her heart had broken for the mad man and his tale. He was not mad in the typical sense, just broken and without repair. She could not imagine the excruciating pain he must have gone through every waking moment since that day. She remembered the pain at the loss of her father, but she couldn't imagine the magnified pain of losing one's entire family. She thought of her mother, her sister, her Aunts and Uncles, and she knew that she could never survive without them. Even if she never saw eye to eye with any of them they were still blood, still the people she could always count on, and still the ones she loved. Without such comfort she knew that she would surely be just as mad as the man to whom she was speaking, perhaps even more so. For as much trauma as he endured he seemed to handle it well, even given that he was a mental patient. He coped better than most she was sure.

Without thought she reached over to him and touched his hand. She wanted so badly to soothe him, but he seemed to not be in need of it. He smiled at her softly as she touched him as if he did not remember a word that he had just said. Perhaps he did know, but in that moment she had given him a respite from the torment of his memories and emotions. Perhaps he was just glad to talk to someone who had empathy for him. Regardless of how or why he seemed to suddenly perk up to her touch and she was happy for it. She had heard his story and he had been happy to tell it to her. She hoped that maybe in the future they might talk more and that the next time they spoke she might be better able to help.

The Hatter looked up at the sky suddenly and looked to Alice once more. "We best be going now Ms. Kingsley." He said softly, almost back to normal, a shock to anyone who may have just witnessed their talk. His moods seemed to swing very rapidly and without warning. As he picked up the tea tray Alice nodded in agreement and she began to guide him indoors. She had much to think about, but one thing she knew for sure was that she would love to get to know Tarrant Hightopp a little better, even if her time spent with him was full of sad stories and emotional whiplash. She would get to know his whole story, even if just to give him some small peace and some small justice.

Please review and let me know how I did! Thanks for reading and continuing ti put up with my crazy, I'll work on the next chapter ASAP!