Hetalia - Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 26! I'll be honest. Life has hit me like a freight train, and it doesn't show much time of stopping. My course is ramping up, I'm writing game reviews for a company, I've taken up swimming again in combination. I've got other fics on the go in more active fandoms, and like said I said, being honest here, the difference in feedback is significant. Any fellow writers will be any to relate to what I'm saying: it's hard to stay motivated for a fandom that isn't the most proactive in leaving feedback. Don't get me wrong, Hetalia has such a coveted, special place in my heart, but sometimes, it's just hard...

Now, enough doom and gloom, onto the chapter that is long overdue! Thank you all for your patience, and let's jump in!

Enjoy!

Terra City, Hearts District, Queen's Square

With limbs of dead lead, Arthur could do nothing as he carried out into the square. His head lolling weakly against Hatter's shoulder, seemly the only solid thing in the world. Under the effects of his first dosage of 'X', the square that swam around him was a swimming vortex of oversaturated colour and pulsating music. The glass-eyed, "X" induced crowd dazedly parted for Hatter as he made for the White Queen's parade float before the Town Hall. An enormous pearl made of silk, lace and tissue was the centrepiece of the float, the fabric curtained delicately so that it cleverly hid it's hollow interior.

'Please. Don't,' Arthur breathlessly pleaded, his throat painfully tight. Hatter did not look down to him. 'Please. If…you love me…'

Hatter's footsteps stumbled a step as they climbed the stairs up onto the float. 'It's a little late to be playing that card, don't you think?'

Arthur tried to grip the man's shirt, pull him down to demand. But his strength had all but evaporated, so he managed only to weakly paw at him. 'Hatter, please.'

Hatter deeply sighed before he met Arthur's eyes. Something—hesitance or even guilt, perhaps—passed behind his own. He leant down to press a kiss to Arthur's forehead and then said wistfully: 'Not all the luck in the world could stop this, love.'

On top of the float waiting for them, was Wang along with a small collection of his men. Despite the carefully schooled blank faces most of yakuza men managed to pull off, it was clear that they would be glad to have this business between their leader and Hatter put to rest.

When Hatter was about to step inside the pearl, Wang stepped forward with his brows drawn together, 'A moment before you begin?'

Arthur could hear the low whistle of air through Hatter's teeth as he turned back. 'Yes?'

'Where is Victoria? You were meant to give me her when you had what you want.' Wang said with a suggestive glance down at Arthur, and Hatter tightened his grip on him.

'Patience Wang. You'll have the White Queen once I have completed my work here. Then, and only then.'

'Wang,' Arthur rasped in desperation, grasping the very tips of his final straws. 'You can't—You have to know what he is. How can you just—'

'You are wrong, Arthur. It is not that I do not know, but that I do not care,' Wang sighed with a sad, pitying smile. 'I don't care what happens today. I don't care what happens to you, or any of the people here. At the end of the day, all I care about, is how will it benefit me.'

Arthur stared at him in disbelief, which corroded to utter repulsion, 'Cun—.'

'This is the part where you leave.' Hatter cut in with a growl, the dangerous glint in his eye promising a bad time if Wang didn't leave right now.

Wang gulped, and gave a shift bow. 'We will be out the city within the hour.'. Hatter waited until the line of black SUVs drove out of sight before he turned back to the pearl and stepped over it's threshold.

Arthur whimpered as a strange weightless came over him, and Hatter shushed him as he guided him to the centre where he bobbed like a buoy on water, his hair and clothes floating as though he were under it.

'There, there poppet. You're going to dream of our Wonderland. You're going to see it, and I am going to bring it through. When you wake, it'll be a new world, our world.'

'Hatter, please. I don't want this.' Arthur begged a final time when he saw Hatter take out a syringe from his inner coat pocket. 'X'.

He couldn't help but gasp when the point pricked his skin, and the already intense colours brightened like the sun. Arthur's lids were fighting a losing battle as he tried to keep them open, his vision quickly darkening as his mind spiralled, losing it's grip on his senses as he was drug down into his subconscious. The last thing he remembered before the final plunge, was a soft hand caressing his cheek whilst a voice whispered: 'Dream Arthur. Dream, and we'll both be free.'

Spades District, 221 Baker's Street, The Kirkland Residence.

Down in the car garage, or more precisely, shotgun in the front of Dylan Kirkland's armoured Jeep, Alfred Jones huffed. After Allistor had shot in him up with the strongest painkillers he had, and Dylan had geared up in tactical body armour, the two of them had headed to the lift only to realise that Seamus and Allistor hadn't joined them. 'Give us a sec!' Seamus had called. And so, after a curious exchange of looks, Alfred and Dylan had gone ahead down to garage to start the car. Dylan had laughed at Alfred's metaphorical tail drooping when he had learnt that they would not be taking Seamus' yellow Lamborghini.

Alfred jumped when the backdoors clipped open and Seamus and Allistor clambered in, slamming them shut. The American raised an eyebrow at the three large duffle bags that they carried, one in particular loudly clattering with something that sounded like metal on metal.

'What are they?' He asked.

Seamus winked at him and unzipped one of bags to reveal the Britannia mask sat atop it's folded suit. Inside the bag, alongside the Britannia suit, there was a set of matching pistols, ammo belt, and a sniper rifle.

'You took the Britannia suit?' Alfred said, unsure how it made him feel. Imagining the sight of any other hair, except Arthur's blond, poking out behind the gas mask pinched his gut.

'We have to keep up appearances. Dylan, we brought your goodies.' Seamus passed the other duffle he held forward for inspection, and Alfred swallowed around the lump in his throat when he saw Dylan reach in a pull out a hand grenade.

'Good stuff. Thought you were putting me on the backline.' Dylan smiled as he returned it and then clicked the button for the garage's metal shutter to start raising.

'I have a feeling we're gonna need everyone we can get for this.'

Alfred clipped his seatbelt on and eyed the last duffle balanced on Allistor's lap, the one that had sounded metallic. 'So, what's in bag number three?'

Allistor drummed his fingers on it, but made no move to open it, 'Our trump card.'

Left at that, Dylan pulled out of the building, and they turned onto the road for the Heart District.

Terra City, Hearts District, Rouge Street.

'Hey. Why've we stopped?' Seamus said, and Alfred jerked awake, rapidly blinking the sleep from his eyes. Damn. He'd underestimated how drowsy the painkillers would be when the adrenaline wasn't there. 'We're not there yet.'

'Take a look laddie.' Allistor nodded forward. In front of them, where would normally be a crossroads that would take them directly into Queen's Square, was an overgrown by a thicket of gigantic roses sprouting the pavement and concrete; thorn spiked stems crossed between two buildings to block the road ahead. The surreal sight reminded Alfred of Sleeping Beauty; a castle surrounded by thorns to guard the sleeping princess and the evil fairy that hoarded her.

'Uh—you seeing what I'm seeing bro?' Alfred asked with a slack jaw.

'Oh yeah. I'm seeing it alright.' Matthew deadpanned.

'Acadia, are there any alternative routes?' Allistor said, and there was a fevered tapping on a keyboard.

'Okay, this is going to sound weird, but I can't get anything on the square. No visuals, nothing. There's like er—, this black out radius around it.'

'Britannia?'

'On it.' Seamus stated and hoisted the duffel onto his shoulder before he got out. Alfred watched as he jogged over to one of the buildings where the roses grew from. With the ease of a professional gymnastic, Seamus scaled the building's side up the fire escape and disappeared over the top.

After about several minutes, 'I have eyes on the square.' Seamus' voice popped with static over the comm channel, breathing slightly laboured from the climb.

'What do you see?' Dylan asked.

'The founding festival. Square's packed. There's more of those giant roses everywhere.'

'You see Wang?' Alfred pressed, subconsciously leaning forward in his seat.

'Negative. None of his men either…In fact, I don't see any personnel, of any kind. No security, no float attendees—oh my god.'

'What? What is it?'

'I think I see Arthur.' Seamus whispered.

'Where?' Allistor hissed.

'One of the parade floats. The Mad Hatter one. There's this tea party table, Arthur's sat at the head of the table. He's tied down, I can't see his face, and shi—'

'Britannia?!'

'Hatter. Hatter's on the fucking float with him.' Seamus growled, 'No visual on the White Queen—I mean, Victoria.'

'We're moving in on your position.' Allistor acknowledged and gave Dylan and Alfred a curt nod. Alfred's gut squirmed as he returned it and the three exited the car as one.

Now suited up in the Britannia suit, Seamus didn't lower his sniper's scope when they crouched down beside him, giving only the slightest of side-eyes to Alfred when he brushed a hand against his shoulder. The air in the square was sickening sweet, too perfumed and heavy on the nose to smell pleasant. Down below, filling the space between the floats, the crowds' gazes were glassy, as though in a trance. Like they weren't even aware that they were standing next to each other.

'Where is he?' Alfred breathed, and Seamus motioned with an inclination of his head. Just as he said, Arthur was down on the Mad Hatter's float, Hatter hovered around him like a mosquito. The bastard wore an all-black suit and victorian tailcoat, whilst Arthur had been placed in what looked to be a white hospital gown. Like Seamus had also said, from the rooftop there wasn't a good angle on Arthur's face, not with his head slumped forward like that.

'Okay, so what's our move?' Dylan asked, hands busy as he unzipped his duffle and clipped on his grenade and ammo belts. Alfred bit the inside of his cheek at the packets of C4 and thermite.

'Well, the cavalry's all here and I have a shot.' Seamus goaded, a hint of giddiness there.

Allistor shifted his weight, dark green eyes darting across the square. 'Not yet. Columbia, Cymru and I will go through window in the next building over, down into the square. We get into position. On my signal, Britannia takes the shot, Cymru throws down a smoke screen. Columbia, you grab Arthur, and I will take Hatter.'

'Wait, are you sure that's a good idea? Shouldn't I be the one who takes Hatter? I mean, I'm the one whose immune.' Alfred protested and Allistor shook his head.

'Aye, but I have something you don't.' The Scotsman winked and opened his duffle.

'The Green Armour.' Alfred gasped. Inside the bag was a medieval set of armour, the plating tinted sea-green making it look more like it had been moulded from some exotic jewel than metal. Lines of runic text had been graved into the breast plate, and it's helm prodded out with long curved horns that resembled a dragon's. If the entry on it in Arthur's spell book was to be believed, then that meant that whilst Allistor wore it, he would be completely indestructible.

'See? Nothing to worry about.' Allistor said, and then his jaw set. 'Right then lads, time to see what we're made of.'

In position, Alfred's back pressed against a street corner about ten metres away from Arthur, he could see Allistor—looking like a real knight donned in his enchanted Armour—check that Dylan was in cover. Over behind the blue caterpillar float, Dylan peeked out and gave a thumbs up. Allistor nodded, and then looked to Alfred. He made a ring with his index and thumb. Alfred mirrored the nod before tensing to spring like a sprinter.

'Britannia.' Allistor muttered.

'On your mark.' Seamus confirmed, and Alfred imagined him exhaling a deep breath to steady himself as he lined up with his crosshair with his mark.

'Three,

Two,

One—'

The shot exploded, and Alfred bolted forward. He jumped, and was given a glimpse of Hatter clutching his bleeding chest, a look of stupefaction on his face, before Dylan's smoke engulfed them. Alfred didn't try to see through it when he heard Allistor tackle Hatter with a metallic clash, the man screaming as they went over the edge.

'Arthur!' Alfred cried as he rounded the head of the table and shook the Brit's shoulders.

But the moment he touched him, Arthur's head slumped to the side, and then off his shoulders. Alfred stared in silent horror as the plastic mannequins' head bounced at his feet, the blond wig slipping off as it rolled.

It—

No.

'It's a dud! Arthur's not here!' He yelled.

'WHAT?!' The Kirkland brothers exclaimed in unison, and a bellow of wind cleared away the smokescreen. A foot away, Hatter broke free from grappling with Allistor, bursting into a swarm of red butterflies to reform atop of the nearest lamppost with jazz hands.

'Ta-da! How'd you like the show, boys?'

'WHERE IS HE?' Alfred shrieked, and Hatter giggled as he waggled a finger at him.

'Ah, ah, ah Alfie~ It's terribly rude to interrupt,' He winked before he swiped his gaze over Allistor and Dylan. 'Been awhile, hasn't it, brothers dearest? Russia, I believe—oh! But, one, two,'

Hatter raised a hand over his eyes, trained on the rooftop that Seamus was perched. 'And there's the third little piggy. Hm. In someone else's clothes to.'

'If you really want to make it like Russia, why don't you bring out Arthur and Victoria?' Dylan snapped, and Hatter waved a dismissive motion with a flutter.

'Mummy will be along, and as for Arthur, he's safe. Happily dreaming sweet dreams of Wonderland. Speaking of,' Hatter swept a had across the square and the entranced crowd slowly began to trickle into the surrounding buildings. There were a series of cracks as the square quaked as thorned vines as thick as three trunks erupted from the cobbles.

'Coming along quite nicely, don't you think?'

'That's your plan? Bring Arthur's Wonderland into this reality.' Allistor questioned.

Hatter icily raised a eyebrow, 'Not a fan?'

'I may take a slight issue with the part where you kidnapped my brother, yeah.'

'Pity. But if I recall, Arthur chose to be with me. Which reminds me,' Hatter's smug cat-like grin grew wider as he looked down at Alfred. 'How's the legs?'

'Why don't you come closer and take a look?' Alfred snarled, sliding his foot back, ready to throw himself like a coiled jaguar.

'Mongrel,' Hatter sneered at him, and sketched his arms wide, 'So what now, lads? Pull a half-arsed retreat and live to die another day?'

'I was thinking more like, we kick your teeth in until you cough up where you've got Arthur.' Dylan suggested.

'Aye. I'll second that.' Allistor with an audible grin as he sank into a stance.

Hatter sighed and the thorned vines writhed, hissing like cobras as they reared up and turned on them, 'You don't honestly believe it'll be that easy. Might I remind you, you are in my domain. You're not playing by your world's rules, we're playing by mine. And I don't play fair.'

On that last word, Alfred has forced to throw himself out of the way to avoid being skewered by a vine. Pain splintered up his legs, pulling a sharp hiss from his lips as he charged, dodging, diving and vaulting over followup vines that tried to swat and trip him up.

'We need an attack plan!' He cried.

'We have a plan. Attack!' Dylan grunted around the grenade's pin between his teeth, ripping it out and lobbing it. Hatter flashed a smirk before he butterfly-dashed away. But the moment he reformed on the ground, Allistor's gauntlet crunched into his face, smashing him backwards against a car.

'We have to have more than that!' Alfred insisted and caught the snaking vine that was snaking for Allistor's back. With a twist, he ripped it up from the garden and it shrieked before dissolving into darkness, 'Acadia!'

'We're running a two tank, two squishes. If you and Saxony cover Britannia and Cymru—'

'No! We need a real plan. Like—like, he said that Arthur's doing this, right? That means that he has to be nearby!' Alfred rationalised, and ducked when a car door came whistling for his head. Hatter's lips were pulled back over his teeth, shoulders heaving as he staggered to his feet.

'Alright then. Gloves off it is.' He spat out a mouthful of blood and snapped his fingers. A clap of thunder boomed, and from the sky, dropped a creature that Alfred had hoped he'd never see again.

The monstrous, skeletal Cheshire Cat grinned it's fanged pearly whites at Alfred before it coiled and sprang. Alfred braced for the collision, but the blow never came as the feline feinted right and slashed at Allistor. Razor-sharp talons squealed against metal in a flurry of sparks and Allistor was catapulted backwards. The cat pivoted, and Alfred cried out as it's tail whipped him, flooring him as he skidded a distance back on his back.

'Urgh! Seriously, if anyone has any ideas, now's the time!'

Dylan ran to Alfred's side and hauled him up, 'He has to be close. He has to be close,' He chanted to himself, his green eyes darting about the square. 'Somewhere close that's hidden.'

A spitting hiss was the only warning they got, and Alfred shoved Dylan out of the way before the Cheshire Cat could stamp on them. The paw came down, and Alfred grunted as he caught it, gritting his teeth as he was almost forced to his knees. With a yell, he twisted his grip in reversal, and launched the beast over his shoulder toward the White Queen's float.

'NO!' Hatter bellowed, and Alfred frowned in confusion when he thrust out a hand. A swarm of vines snatched the cat out of the air before it could crush the pearl at the centre of the float.

Dylan exchanged a look with Alfred, 'Everyone saw that, right?'

'Aye.' Allistor grizzled as he regrouped with them, setting his helm straight.

'He's not exactly gonna let us pass.' Seamus hissed over the comms.

'Guys, I just checked thermals. Someone is definitely inside that pearl.' Matthew reported.

Alfred's gut clenched. 'Britannia, give me some covering fire. Saxony, Cymru, buy me as much time as you can!'

'Right!'

Whilst Seamus rained bullets from above, Allistor and Dylan charged to engage with Hatter when he moved to intercept. Alfred sprinted for the pearl. With the sounds of the brawl ringing out behind him, Alfred scrambled up onto the float, and saw that the pearl was not made of plastic as he had assumed, but of soft cloth and lace. He parted it the fabric folds, and his breath caught in his throat.

Inside was Arthur, softly glowing, ethereal as he slept. He floated, as though in zero-G, his golden hair gently fanned out like a halo to match pleasingly with the cream of his skin. The only thing missing to complete the palette was the fascinating sage-green of his eyes. Alfred could of stared at him forever, if it weren't for the raging chaos outside.

'Get away from him!' Hatter's screech shrilled beyond and spurred Alfred into action. Fingers trembling at the memory of the last time he had seen him, he reached out.

'Arthur?' Alfred pleaded as he carefully pulling Arthur down into his arms and gripped him tight. His hand slid up to caress the Brit's cheek as he shook him. He looked so vulnerable, the flimsy clothes he'd been dressed in looking as though they'd tear at the slightest touch. 'C'mon, Arthur. Arthur, you gotta wake up!'

A choked sob rose up in Alfred's chest when the man did not stir, and he clutched him closer against his chest, head bowed, 'Come back. Everyone's in danger. Allistor, Seamus Dylan, they're all fighting. We need you Arthur, I need you. Please, please, come back.'

Alfred gasped when Arthur's steady breathing hiccuped. The man gave out a low groan before he slowly opened his eyes. Green eyes, still glazed from deep sleep, stared up at him disorientated.

'Alf..red?'

'Oh my god. Arthur!' Alfred cried and surged forward to crush their lips together. Arthur gave a muffled squeak of surprise, before he came to and melted into the kiss. The sweetness was toe curling, the starved, desperate edge stealing the air from Alfred's lungs. All the anxiety, all the weight that he had been carrying since that night…all seemed so small in comparison of having Arthur, here, in his arms. They were good for each other, they belonged. It was right.

Their breaths came out as laboured pants when they finally came up for air. Arthur wore that rare, wholesome smile as he reached up to cup Alfred's cup. 'I told you not to come…Of course you didn't listen.'

'It's like you said. I'm a daft duck.' Alfred softly chuckled, and moaned when Arthur pulled him down into another long smooch.

'My daft duck.' Arthur's eye twinkled when he released Alfred, whose face had blushed a tomato red.

The happy reunion was not to last. With a shriek of metal and tearing of fabric, Alfred bent over Arthur protectively when the top of the pearl was ripped open to the elements. Towering above them atop of the Cheshire Cat's head, Hatter stared down at the two lovers with an untameable , hateful wrath.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you are liking this story, I'll be wrapping things up soon, please consider leaving a review to tell me about your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again, thank you for reading, and as always,

Until next time folks!