A/N: I know I know I know I know I know I'm sorry I haven't updated in like a million gazillion billion years I'm so sorry asdsdhjvnsfvbsvfklszlk please don't hate me

He turned fully then, and it seemed like he was going to smile even wider, to thank the girl who just met him and accepted his flaws and his problems, accepted the fact that something had changed her future and there was no going back. He had smiled, right? I looked at him kindly.

"You stupid bitch!"

Oh.

"Where the hell did you rip that off from? Some shitty drama movie?" He spat at me. Well. No grin here. "Did you really think that some stupid line was going to change everything? God, you're an idiot." His face was hard and menacing.

Angry, bitter hurt swelled in my abdomen even as my eyes filled with tears. I ripped my hand from his and picked up my bag. He wasn't the man I met in the alley, the one who used pretty words and told me I was beautiful. This man was rude and hurtful and I never wanted to see him again.

The worst part was, Jack was right.

This man grabbed me in the middle of the night. I came back. He attacked me. I came back. He admitted that he was a killer. I stayed anyway.

Why? Why did I have this ache in my heart, one that thirsted, that needed his approval? I barely knew this man, this... this murderer! I wasn't even disturbed by the fact he had taken lives! I spun around and stalked away. A sharp pain shot up my in my shoulder and I was spun back around and facing him. Something in me snapped. "No! No, I don't want your fucking pity! You're right!" I hissed. I tried in vain to claim my arm back. "I- don't - need- this!" I sent a small claw-fingered swipe to his cheek - I was actually aiming for his eyes but made a serious miscalculation - and left four thin ugly lines on his angular face. "Let me go! You're- you're mean!"

Mean. So many words, like, ever, and -

Jack grabbed my other wrist and pressed them to his chest until I stopped pulling and stared at me. The darkness never left his eyes. "Aw, fuck, Alison, stop moving. Stop. I'm sorry. That was uncalled for," he murmured. No. I refuse to give in. To just turn to a puddle in front of a lowlife of a man who kills. Kills people, kills plans, kills sanity. I drew myself up and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Let go of me, Jack." He doesn't twitch, and there was silence again. Just eye contact. I didn't blink.

"Sit down with me, Alison."

My eyes narrowed. I wouldn't listen to him. I wouldn't.

We sat down on his dark blue leather couch.

He put his arm around the top, right behind my head.

I shivered. I was so tired. My eyelids started drooping when he spoke again.

"Alison?"

"Yes?"

He slid off the couch, and crouched down in front of me. My eyes widened as he took my hand. "Um - yes?" I repeated.

He started to speak softly, but I couldn't hear his words because I was so fucking tired. I swayed a bit, trying to blink away the fatigue and failing, until I gave in and closed my eyes.

Sweet darkness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

What happened, you ask? Now why would I tell you, Nimrod? It's a fucking story.

All I know is that I woke up.

And boy, did I wake up angry.

I was furious. I saw red. I wanted to rip the door out of its hinges. And I don't know why.

So I ran.

Blindly sprinting through the streets, past Crime Alley, past Cassie's house, and through the dark, dense woods separating Jack from me and my confusing rage. Run run run.

Jack Jack Jack.

I stopped a couple of yards from his house, gasping for breath. I heard voices. This did nothing to quell my intense feeling of hatred and fury. He was talking to someone else. He should be talking to me. He would know. He would know why I was so angry.

Only after half a minute did I realize what he was saying.

"Would you like more tea, Dormouse?"

What?

"Yes - there we go - one lump or two? So as I was saying, the moment I told the White Rabbit I didn't actually know the answer to the riddle - the raven and the writing desk - he positively blew up and walked right out the door. Absurd, yes I know -"

A small voice slowly said something that sounded... sleepy.

"Oh, aha, yes, Alice should be here soon."

Oh. My. God. He was delusional. A schizo! A frea- no, he's not. He's normal, like you, he knows this, you see? Go on, ask him. The plague, remember? Okay, you may be a bit more normal -

Sparing my mind no thought, I jumped up the porch steps and banged through the door.

"- wha- oh, hello, Alison." Jack was sitting at his long rectangular table, papers strewn in front of him and a cup of tea sitting on a saucer by his left hand. He has turned and was looking at me, the scars glinting faintly on his jaw.

"No," I spat vehemently. "Not Alison. Alice."

He smiled.

A/N: Ugh its a shorty. Don't worry, I hate it too.

Just so you know, this IS set in Gotham City. Yes, I do realise that the Mad Hatter (in Batman, of course) 's real name is Jervis Tetch. But I may or may not have changed it due to the fact that the name Jack is legit sexy.