AN: Oh my god, guys, this chapter is just so angsty. It's also my favourite chapter of the story, which probably says a lot about me, lol.
Chapter Seven
The lights were blinding him. All of them, beaming down on him, blocking out the rest of the world. He could hear them though. Murmuring to each other and clanking metal objects together. He had no idea what they were, but they scared him to his core. Those sounds always preceded the pain.
"Right, now you just cooperate." He couldn't see the man's face; it was swathed in white plastic and papery masks. He caught a quick sight of the needle before it was stabbed straight into his arm. No one paid any heed to his screaming. They never did. Fire was bursting through his veins and his entire right arm felt like it had been dipped in acid before being electrocuted.
"It's working!" the man bellowed. "Look at these readings. It's working!"
"Just in the arm," another voice said. Someone prodded his shoulder and he screamed again as it sent piercing pain through his every nerve. The muscles were taut and flexed, which was only making the pain worse, but he couldn't relax them. It was like they were stuck, tightened and pulling against the links around his wrist.
"Doesn't matter," the first man said. "It's a start."
"Tell me, Hatter. Open up your secrets, your dreams. It's in there."
"Stop!"
"Alice!"
"Quiet, you!" He staggered as he was hit in the stomach, and all of the air rushed out of him.
"Leave him alone!" Alice shrieked, tugging against the Suits that were holding her back. He straightened up and looked through the mass of black-clad bodies at her. Her gray-blue eyes were wide and frightened, and as she met his gaze he could see the surrender. She knew that they were trapped just as much as he did.
No. He couldn't let this happen. He'd promised he would protect her. He couldn't just stop. "Keep you'self safe," he said. The robotic voice of the man with the rabbit's head – the man who had once been a frightened boy just like him – was directing them to different places. The Suits holding his arms started pulling him away and the others were dragging her further up the hall, further away from him. "I'll make sure you're taken care of, Alice. I promise!"
"Hatter!"
"Such a pretty weapon, this Fear. If there's not enough fear in the situation, it draws up all of the fears from your mind. What do you see, Hatter? What do you fear?"
"Stop it!"
"We need to find a way to spread the results to the rest of it." The voices were talking again and he was back beneath the dazzling lights. There were more jabs of needles and prods of electricity, but he was silent. He had screamed so much in the last couple of days that his voice had long-since fled.
"Why isn't it working?" A second voice was speaking now, full of anger and frustration. "Work, damn it!" A hand came down across his face and he yelped, his eyes stinging.
"Control yourself," the first voice snapped. "It won't do us any good if we kill it."
It. That's all he was here. A thing for their experiments. Not even human anymore. Just a thing.
"Maybe this one's just defective," the second man said. "Wouldn't be the first time we picked up a broken piece of junk off the street." There was another jolt of electricity through his torso and his muscles all pulled in protest. The leather strap around his right arm groaned. "You know what I think? We should just scrap this one and start over. Things are looking a lot better with the other one anyway. That one's turning out proper."
"No," the first one said. "We'll just advance the experiment, that's all. Fetch me a triple dosage. If it's going to die it will be because of the experiments, not because you're feeling wasteful."
"A triple dose will kill it for sure." A dry laugh. "It barely survived the double dose we gave it in the first place."
"And look at the advance we made then," the first pointed out eagerly. "That's when it finally worked. Now fetch the dose."
He started to panic as the syringe descended towards his arm. "No, please, stop." His weak voice cracked under the effort of speaking, and he thrashed against his bonds.
"Control it," the first said.
"David!" Tears were in his eyes as he tried desperately to pull his arm away from the reaching gloved hands."Not It. I'm David. Please! I'm David."
The second voice laughed as it pressed down on his shoulders, keeping him in place forcefully. "Not when we're through with you."
"No!" The strap around his wrist broke with a sharp noise and he flung his arm out in defence. The first man staggered away, the syringe buried in his torso. His hand went to the throat of the second man, trying to shove him away. When his hand grabbed at the neck there was a sickening crunch and the skin gave in beneath his fingers. He screamed in terror as the man collapsed, his head lolling loosely as he hit the floor.
"No," he sobbed. He clawed at the strap on his other arm and it broke, and did the same to the ones on his ankles. His body slipped awkwardly to the floor, his legs not used to supporting the weight of his body anymore. He hit the ground, staring straight into the face of the second man. His eyes were wide and vacant, his lips still parted in a dying shriek. The man.
The man that he had killed.
"Tears, Hatter. Really?"
"There may be crumbs in the butter."
"What? The butter?"
"There may be crumbs in the butter."
Everything – the only life that he had ever known - disappeared behind him as he stepped forward. The swirling vortex of gray and blue and green and violet was curling around him, suffocating him, and he felt sure that he must have just plummeted to his death. This would never work. He was going to die.
He hit the ground all at once, crumbling into a heap on the hard concrete. His heart was hammering in his ears as the aches filled his body. What had he just done? Things were so different here, so different from home. The energy in the air was murkier; he could taste emotions, free-running and undiluted, as he breathed. They made his head spin. He had no idea the sort of effect this world would have on him. Was his age catching up with him? Was that why he hurt so badly all of a sudden? What had he done?
No, he had to remember why he'd done this. For Alice. For the girl who changed the world – became his world – and then slipped through his fingers like a ghost. He had to try. He had to know.
His arms shook as he gingerly untangled his limbs and pushed himself up onto his knees. The area was dark and appeared to be deserted. Had she gone already? How much time had passed since she had come back? He never could make sense of how that time shift had worked, no matter how many times he'd tried. He got to his feet and looked around. A staircase just around that corner up ahead. He stood on the top step and looked down, only to feel his heart plummet into the weird Oyster boots he'd been given.
There she was, curled on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Exactly the same as when she had left him: blue dress, maroon leggings, hair in dark curtains. Except that she didn't seem to be moving, and there was a faint streak of scarlet on her forehead. "Alice!"
"Tell me. Tell me and I'll release you."
"Why is a raven like a writin' desk?"
"That's it! Tap into the madness within. You're getting close! Nearly there."
The crashes from inside the house made him cringe and he drew himself flat against the wall. She was at it again. Another one of her fits of madness. If he could just stay out of the way until she calmed down, he would be all right. She always got better eventually.
"David!" She was wailing it at the top of her lungs, her voice full of desperation. He closed his eyes and clamped his hands over his ears to block out the sound. "David!"
Tears stung at the corners of his eyes and he rubbed them away on the knees of his trousers. He was a big boy now. Crying didn't do any good.
There was another thud, this one louder than the others, and his head shot up in alarm. That wasn't the sound of her dropping a teacup or knocking over a chair. It was heavier, like a...
He jumped up and sprinted around the corner to the front door of the cheap seventh-layer flat. It was firmly locked – he always made sure to lock it behind him when this happened, so she didn't wander off and get hurt – and his fingers fumbled on the key as he inserted it into the deadbolt. He shoved the door open with his shoulder, which was harder than it should be because the coat rack had fallen over in front of it, and took stock of the room.
It looked like the disaster that it always did when she went into her fits. Things were swept off shelves, the sheets had been stripped from the bed, and there was a shattered tea kettle on the floor. From behind the bed he could see a pair of feet sticking out, in familiar striped socks and slippers.
"Mum!" He bolted across the room, tripping over the blankets and cutting his palm on a shard of porcelain. He knelt down and shoved her onto her back, and let out a breath of relief when her eyes flicked to him.
"David," she said.
"Mum, what 'appened?" he asked in alarm. He looked her over, but she didn't seem to be injured in any way. The wild light was in her eyes, the one that came with the madness, but other than that she looked completely normal. For some reason, that scared him even more.
"I can't fight it anymore," she murmured.
He looked around and then shook his head. "C'mon, Mum, into bed, yeah?" It was an ordeal trying to get her on her feet enough to get her onto the mattress. If she hadn't lost so much weight in the last season he might not have been able to pull her up at all, but she was hardly bigger than him now. Once she was on the bed he grabbed the blanket from the floor and spread it over her gently.
"Can I get somethin'?" he asked hopefully. "Some tea, yeah?"
"David," she said. Her voice was softer now. Weaker. "Come sit with me." He climbed uncertainly onto the bed and sat down beside her hip, facing her. She took one of his hands and brushed her thumb over the back of his wrist softly. "I can't fight it anymore, David. I've tried, but it's just too much."
"What is?" he asked in confusion.
"The madness, sweetie," she said. "Oh the madness is just so strong. I was there when it took your Granddad, you know. Listened to him rambling away into the night until he just stopped. I thought I could be strong enough, but I'm not." She lifted her hand shakily, and when it wouldn't rise high enough he bent so she could cup his cheek in her palm. "But you, my David. You are strong enough. You are my brave, clever boy. You will beat it."
"Mum, please." He was shaking as he clutched her hand against his face. There was something about the way she was talking. Something that sounded like goodbyes.
She opened her arms and he instantly curled into her side, the same way he had slept when he was smaller. Before he had to start being brave and grown-up. Before she had gotten ill with the madness that ate her mind and made her forget him and everything else until she woke again. "I bought you a little time but that's all I could do. Don't let it beat you, David," she murmured into his hair, wrapping her arms around him to hold him close.
"Please, Mum, what's wrong?" he sobbed.
"The clockwork's not ticking properly." He choked back another sob. She was gone again. Gone into the madness, where she only ever said things that made no sense and spoke in riddles with no answers. "May be crumbs in the butter, David. That clockwork just isn't ticking."
"I know, Mum," he said, trying to soothe her through his own tears. "I know it's not. Is there something I can do to fix it?"
"You'll have to find it, won't you?" she said with an airy chuckle. Her arms shifted, and then she was pushing something into his palm. He stared down at it in surprise. Her locket, the little flower pendant that she always wore. "The clockwork's not ticking properly." Her voice was fading. He sat up and saw that her eyes had closed. "That damn clockwork, David. May be crumbs in the butter."
"I love you," he said.
Her eyes cracked open a fraction of an inch and she smiled fondly. "Why is a raven like a writing desk, love?" And then a soft breath left her and her hand slipped off his arm. It landed on the mattress with a weak thump.
"Mum?" He shook her shoulder, but she didn't respond. "Mum? Mum! Wake up, Mum. Please!"
"The clockwork's not ticking properly."
"That's right. The clock. Time. Tell me, Hatter. Tell me."
Hatter's eyes snapped open and the fear-filled fantasies faded as his gaze fixed on the face in front of him. A surge of resolve swelled in him and he smirked. "You'll 'ave to kill me firs'."
The Unicorn's eager expression fled to be replaced with fury. "That can be arranged."
