"Where is she?" Hatter growled, slamming Cheshire into the grungy brick wall of the alley they stood in. Hatter had Cheshire by his stitched throat, and every inch of him was trembling in his rage. "Where is Alice?"
"Why would I know where Alice is?" Cheshire coughed in pain. All traces of his usual sarcasm had vanished, leaving just the tattered and bruised punk that was being smashed into a wall in an abandoned alley in the most dangerous part of the city.
"You always know where to find her," Hatter hissed, a straight razor already held at Cheshire's bandages. "You've always been the guide. No one gets to Alice without your say-so."
"So you remember," Cheshire smirked, a bit of his old self returning. "I brought her to you. She wouldn't have been yours if it weren't for me."
"I would have found her even without you," Hatter growled, letting his blade sink into the bandages and drawing blood. Cheshire's eyes widened in fear. Hatter stilled his hand. "Tell me where she is now."
"White's," Cheshire gasped. "She's at White's." Hatter pulled the blade away and released Cheshire's tattered band shirt, watching him grab his throat in pain and fall to his knees. Hatter squatted beside him darkly.
"You'll be last kitty," Hatter whispered, hiding his weapon casually in the pocket of his burgundy trench coat. He kept his crazed eyes on Cheshire's. "You and White." Without another word he got up and stalked away, pulling his top hat onto his head and adjusting it silently. Cheshire watched him leave, knowing Hatter hadn't cut deep but fearing for his survival. He yanked his cell phone out of his pants pocket and pulled up Queenie's number, hitting the SEND button with trembling fingers.
"What?" the Queen of Hearts demanded into her receiver.
"He knows she's at White's," Cheshire groaned. "He held a blade to my throat."
"I'll call the cops and send them to White's," she sighed boredly. The line went dead, and with difficulty Cheshire got to his feet and staggered to the nearest hospital.