Author's Note: Generally, I try to keep my A/N chatter to a minimum, but I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has added me to their favorite or alerts. I've gotten an overwhelming amount of response to this series and I truly, truly appreciate it. Also, if you do leave a review, please remember to sign in! I respond to everyone and some of you leave really helpful feedback.

If You've Ever Dreamed of Never

Alice doesn't know where to leave her clothes, so she folds them neatly and places them on the edge of the tub. She leaves her boots there too, afraid to tread dirt through the house and cause anymore of a mess.

She slips on the boxers, thankful for the button in the front. Hatter is surprisingly lean and though they don't fit perfectly, they hang low on her hips instead of falling down. She slides her arms through the long sleeves of the shirt. It's a few inches too long and the hem falls mid-thigh. She buttons every one except for the top; she hates the choking feeling it elicits. Satisfied that she's sufficiently dressed, Alice tip toes back to the room. The grass feels odd underneath her bare feet - not unpleasant, just unfamiliar, and she hurries past it.

The room isn't cold exactly, just not as warm as she would like. It makes getting to the bed gracefully awkward since her first instinct is to run forward and dive under the fluffy comforter at the foot of the bed. Alice walks around to the side not occupied by a completely unaware, partially undressed man and sits down gently. She grabs the comforter and spreads it out to cover her side of the bed. Once it settles, she pulls the edge to her right, covering Hatter from the waist down. She watches him for any sign of movement but there is none. A few minutes more and when she's sure he's still breathing, Alice lies down. She makes puts at least a foot of space in between them before she gets comfortable.

Sleeping with another person in the bed isn't her strong point. She was known to kick, and, on one painful occasion, accidentally punch, when she's forgotten that she's got a guest. She didn't make it a habit of inviting people to stay and she surely didn't make it a habit of spending the night. So she stares blankly at the ceiling, not quite certain what she's supposed to be doing right now. Folding her hands on her chest, she's starts to count backwards from one hundred.

When she gets to 35, she stops.

She glances at the man sleeping next to her, watches his chest rise and fall and she just needs to know that when she wakes up, he'll still be there. Alice reaches under the covers, her pale hand finding his. She wraps her fingers around his wrist, smiles when she feels his pulse thumbing strongly. As she closes her eyes and starts to count again, she doesn't let go.

It isn't morning yet, so says that ever present clock in the back of his mind. He groans, his eyelids heavy and his head even heavier. His body is stiff and protests even the thought of movement. So he lies still, tries to remember why there's an intense pressure around his middle limiting the amount of breathing he can.

The events of the past few days come crashing back and Hatter groans again because really, what else should he do when he thinks about just exactly what he's gotten himself in. Fighting a Jabberwok, meeting a flesh and blood Knight, fighting the Queen's Suits, getting tortured. Can't forget that one. And rescuing Alice. At least he thinks he did. Could be that he's dead and imagining that happy ending.

Hatter cracks one eye and is met with the dull illumination of the artificial candlelight. The room is full of dancing shadows, shifting in the flickering light. He opens the other, thankful that horrible nausea from earlier has disappeared. He doesn't particularly like throwing up. In fact, he could do without ever doing it again.

He's a bit confused, he'll admit, at the sheet covering him and he attempts to reach up, only to find that his hand is anchored down by something very warm and most definitely not his.

Chancing a glance to his left, he's shocked to see Alice, of all people in his bed. Alice. His Alice. In his bed and wasn't this unexpected? So much so that he can't stop the smile spreading across his face.

Alice. Alice was in his bed. Touching him. Nothing scandalous, mind you, just a hand on the wrist but it's more than he could have hoped for. He could stay like this forever, could have her breathing next to him for the rest of his life if only she'd promise to stay. It's sentimental, not at all manly, and not at all Hatter, but one thousand percent true and he'll get over it. This. This is what he fought for. Why he found his way back, why he followed after her so many times. This very moment was every reason he's had since he met her.

It's a shame then, that after thirty minutes, his arm is completely numb. He contemplates the consequences of restricted blood flow to a limb - something about it falling off, he thinks. It isn't enough to convince him to wake her up. Instead, he tries to wiggle his fingers and finds that they are stubbornly ignoring him. He twists his arm and feels the pins and needles in his bicep.

Alice mumbles something and he freezes. He looks at her, but her face is a mask of peace. He looks back down at his arm. If could just lift it, get the circulation going again...

"What are you doing?" Panic stops him mid-motion. He knows he looks guilty - just glances from her hand to her face and back again.

"I can't feel my arm." She blinks at him.

"I'm sleeping." She's groggy and grumpy and doesn't care for being woken up after the day she's had.

"Right then. I'll just, ya know, let it fall off." He drops his hand back to the bed and stares at the ceiling, hoping she'll fall back to sleep and forget this whole thing.

When she doesn't say anything, he thinks she might have done just that. He chances a peek in her direction and finds himself staring into clear blue eyes. Her hand is tucked between her cheek and the pillow and tendrils of hair snake out from under the covers to frame her face. It makes his heart skip a beat or two. Her eyes are deep, intense, full of so much emotion that he's not sure the woman in front of him isn't a dream. For clarity, for his sanity, he blinks slowly. She doesn't look away, doesn't fade into the darkness. She holds his gaze and he isn't sure what this is, but he likes it. A lot.

"You scared me." She begins. He opens his mouth to counter, probably something witty and charming, distracting like she doesn't need it to be. "Let me finish."

"Alright." He's not used to one-sided conversation, at least not where he's the quiet one, but he knows that she's got something to say, so he shuts his mouth and listens carefully.

"You scared me, Hatter. I thought you died and I didn't know what I was going to do. Then you came back. And you were hurt, but you were alive and I wasn't so scared." She takes a deep breath, not quite sure why she was telling him this, but she knows she has to. Alice has a thing about guilt - if she doesn't say anything, tries to bottle it up inside, it haunts her for years to come. She can't have this following her for the rest of her life. "I'm angry with you."

Hatter was not expecting that. Maybe a 'thank you', or a 'you're too close, move over', but definitely not that.

"Pardon?"

"You promised," her throat closes up at that. She clears it, determined to continue, determined to let him know what this, what he means to her. "You promised that you'd take care of me. And then you run off with a half cocked plan to rescue me and get yourself into God knows what kind of trouble. And you lied to me Hatter. You weren't ok. You wouldn't even let the damned doctors look at you!" She pauses when she sees him flinch at the mention of doctors. His eyes are cloudy, far away. Alice doesn't like it, doesn't like when he looks away from her to stare blankly upwards.

And when Hatter says "I'm sorry", Alice feels like such a jerk.

Because she knows. She knows what happened to him and she knows that he didn't tell her for a reason. They were saving the world, saving the entire population of Wonderland and in the grand scheme of things, what was one person? She would have been worried, fussing over him every time they stumbled and slowed them down. What good would it have done for her to know?

When Alice pulls away her hand, Hatter wishes he'd stayed asleep.

"I just wish you'd said something. I didn't know what was wrong and I thought I was going to lose you all over again." Her hand has a mind of it's own, moving up from his wrist to trace the edge of his bandages.

He holds his breathe, afraid that if he doesn't, she'll realize what she's doing and stop. He understands her when she says she's angry. Because angry and scared are one in the same with Alice, as evident by her outburst on the beach. He doesn't want to fight, doesn't want to this to spiral out of control and change everything that's been changed. He meant it when he said sorry, meant it with all his heart because he knows what it is to be that scared, think that there's nothing to hold on to and for a moment, he was there. Back in the hands of the Doctors.

He grabs her hand in his, stilling it and holding it to him to feel the warmth on his skin. He looks at her, deep brown eyes meeting the translucence of hers.

"I am sorry, Alice." She offers him a small smile.

"Me too."

"Does this mean you're not angry with me, then?"

"No. I'm still angry."

"Oh." He looks back to the ceiling. "Any idea how long that might last?"

Alice almost laughs at that, the innocent face he tries to project.

"No idea. But your chances are greatly improved if you'd let me go back to sleep."

"Right. Sleep." He settles into the pillows and starts to drum his fingers against the sheet. "I can do sleep."

And if she rolls her eyes, he pretends not to see it.

"Good. Night Hatter."

"Night Alice."