Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 20! Wow, twenty chapters, geez where has the time gone? As always, a humongous thank you to you wonderful folk who have stuck with me and reviewed. Your support is everything!

Before we get back to it, a PSA:

I'm sorry to say that those who have read/reading my Hetalia - Steampunk AU series, that the chances of me going back to it are next to nothing. I was sixteen at the time when I started it, and looking back on it now, I shudder at my poor planning. The thing was for the series, was that I had no actual endgame plan for it. I had a loose, vague idea of how I could end it. But nothing to ground myself with and be like 'Yes. This is where every character will end up.'.

The issue with having a story with no planned ending, is that it is even easier to become fatigued with your writing. You pump chapter after chapter out, but you have no real set goal that you can hold onto. I had intended the series to be a long one, yes, because there are some pieces of long running fiction out there that I adored and looked up to.

But now, I can see the problems of a story that can stretch on and on. It's a great time for the reader, but not so much for the author. So I'll offer that as a warning for people when they come to plan out their own stories: Make sure you have your ending straight.

I am sad to discontinue it, I poured a lot of work into it; hell, I have entire notebooks filled with lore and world-building content. But my interests and expectations have evolved, and I like what I am writing now. That's the beauty of writing, you learn what works for you and what doesn't.

I know quite a few followers really enjoyed the series, and I apologise to you for that. We both had fun with it, and to be honest, I would not be against someone taking it over and adding their own spin onto the narrative. So I guess to anyone who would interested in doing so, hit me up to talk about it :)

Now, with that news out of the way, let's dive right back in to Down the Rabbit Hole,

Enjoy!

Terra City, Heart's District, Queen's Square

Arthur Kirkland was not faint hearted. He had seen horrors that would of made the toughest of war veterans and the most experienced homicide detectives cry themselves to sleep. He had seen enough blood and gore to become desensitised to it all. Arthur did not flinch, he did not cower in the face of danger.

And yet, the sight of Alfred, standing defencelessly in the arms of his greatest demon, was enough to completely unravel his composure; the all other senses fading away with white sound so that only the three of them existed in that moment.

Hatter, smiling an ear-splitting smile with Arthur's face, tightened his hold around the shellshocked Alfred so that they were practically chest to chest. Leisurely, he traced the defined shape of Alfred's Adam's apple, before drawing a gasp from the American when the fingers morphed into sharp shards like that of glass—no, a mirror—and lightly dug into the vulnerable, soft skin.

Arthur's limbs were frozen. His lungs screamed for air that he had stopped inhaling.

No.

'It's nice to know that I can still take your breath away,' Hatter purred and cocked his head to the side as his face shimmered into that of a young woman's —no more than seventeen—, before it reverted back to Arthur's, 'how do you like the new suit? Her name's Mary~'

'Let him go,' Arthur rasped around the suffocating lump that had formed in his throat, making his words wobble. 'Just let him go Hatter.'

'Oh Arthur. But where is the fun in that? I finally get the chance to meet our cutie pie Alfie, and you want me to leave so soon? That's rather rude of you, love.' Hatter tutted with finger wag, and Arthur was already tensing; readying himself to Bleed, to lunge and blast the arm that held Alfred off, when Hatter pricked his shard fingers and made Alfred flinch at the drawn blood.

'Now, now. Let's not lose our heads here, Arthur. You wouldn't want to misbehave and have Alfie lose his, would you now?' Hatter grinned when Arthur's body locked up, his eyes hawklike and calculating; estimating whether or not he could close the distance in time.

'You're fast, love. But he'll hit the floor before you can even consider moving.'

Arthur's shoulders shook, tight and knotted, before they slumped. Hatter was right. He'd never make it. 'What do you want?' He ground between his teeth, his heart clenching painfully that the little shake of Alfred's head and the soundless 'No' on his lips.

'We'll all be taking a little trip somewhere more private for what I have in mind. There is a car for us over there,' Hatter gestured to the parked limousine not five foot away on the road. 'now, let's get a move on, shall we?'

Alfred had never sat so still in his life as he had done in the back of that limo, knife fingers pressing against his thorax with Arthur's psycho look-a-like sat beside him, staring at him like he were a puzzle piece. In the plush leather seat opposite, Arthur sat rigid and upright, glaring at Hatter with enough venom that Alfred suffered from secondhand shivers.

The limousine's engine purred nearly soundlessly as it weaved through the streets of downtown Hearts toward the bridge that connected the Spades District. In a small background part of his mind, Alfred wondered about their driver and why he was working with Hatter.

Alfred jumped when an unwanted clawed fingertip slowly trailed down his cheek.

'I must admit, there is a certain charm to him. Healthy, handsome, tall. A boy on the brink of manhood. I can see the attraction.' Hatter lazily mused, the some tone of that one would use to discuss the weather.

'Hatter.'

'A half decent kisser to,'

Alfred's pulse leapt when Arthur started forward out of his seat, looking ready to throttle the demon. But Hatter tapped his clawed fingertip suggestively beneath Alfred's eye, and Arthur robotically forced himself back down; his fists curled so tightly into fists that they were bone white.

'Good boy,' Hatter smirked and ran his gaze up and down the Brit. 'Tell me, what did you think of my message?'

'You put a target on my back.' Arthur growled back, and refused to meet Alfred's bewildered stare. What the heck were they talking about? Message?

'It was the best way to keep an eye on you. Still, I wonder what dear old Daddy is thinking?' Hatter chuckled, and Alfred saw Arthur jaw square just before the limousine pulled to a stop.

Terra City, Spades District, Bridgewater: Home for the Clinically Insane.

Hatter made Arthur step out onto the pavement first, and walk a foot ahead of he and Alfred into the madhouse. An old gold nugget amongst Terra's collection of high-tech medical faculties, Bridgewater had been built in the late sixties, and had received little love and care since; with thick bushes of ivy climbing up it's weathered red brick walls and dirty stained windows. Remarkably, none of the members of staff thought their arrival odd when they stepped into the aged reception hall, and Arthur imagined that they must of been told to expect it, or at least turn the other way.

The real kicker however, was the moment Arthur saw the two Chinese yakuza marching very deliberately toward them. Wang's men! But—what the devil was Hatter doing involved with Wang?!

The two suited yakuza eyed Arthur expectantly before they narrowed their dark eyes at Alfred. 'Who is he?' One questioned to Hatter, and Hatter responded with a wink.

'Some collateral to ensure our guest stays on his best behaviour,' He giggled before gesturing for movement. 'Come now, chop chop! We haven't got all day.'

Arthur had no choice but to comply as the yakuza took a hold of an arm each and proceeded to half-drag, half-frogmarch him deeper into the building, Hatter and Alfred following behind.

The air of sickness and madness was palpable as they tracked through the madhouse's long corridors and hallways; lined by locked rooms, offices and laboratories. Arthur's stomach squirmed as they entered the eerily labelled 'High Risk' ward, the archway branching out into a large recreation room where patients idled; quietly talking, playing cards or otherwise wistfully staring out of the barred windows. All the subdued activities were supervised by the head nurse behind a walled off desk like that of a shop front. Her heavily made up eyes tracked the company as they pasted through toward the isolation chambers.

They took Arthur to the very end, and slid open the iron cast door to reveal a padded room with a cuffed chair at it's centre, flanked by two expressionless nurses either side. Arthur's feet stumbled over themselves, and he bucked against his restrainers when one of the nurses approached him with a white straitjacket.

'Hold still dear.' She invisibly smiled behind her surgeon mask with sickly sweetness.

'Stop! Arthur, just get outta here—Argck!' Alfred choked when Hatter tightened his grip around his neck. Arthur felt as though meat hooks were attached to both sides of his ribs, pulling apart the bone cage with agonising slowness. Every part of Arthur recoiled at the prospect of the straitjacket. But the prospect of losing Alfred was unbearably worse.

Arthur's head dropped, and he held his arms out in defeat. The nurses strapped him into the jacket none too carefully, tugging hard on the buckles to ensure they were tight enough. Arthur allowed them to push him back onto the chair and belt him in, evaporating any chance he may of had escaping.

The Brit couldn't bring himself to look at Alfred, whether for shame, guilt, or his own self-control. Instead, he stared at the metal trolley where one of the nurses had moved over to to prepare —what Arthur was certain was, even from his prostrated angle— a syringe.

'Take him. I want everyone out for this part.' Hatter ordered with a glint in his eye as it ran over Arthur, and Alfred was handed over to the yakuza.

'Arthur.' Alfred paled, wide blue eyes darting between him and Hatter. Arthur's flesh broke into goosebumps as he recognised the coiled tension in Alfred's body language. He— he had to stop him before the idiot did something that would get him killed.

'It's alright Alfred.' Arthur reassured as softly as he could, surprising himself at how calm he sounded despite his circumstances; strapped down, about to be injected with god knows what. Completely at the mercy of a psychotic monster. 'Just— sit tight. I'll be fine.'

'Arthur I can't—'

'Get out now.' Hatter snarled, his voice thunder incarnate, and Arthur shared a last, desperate look with Alfred before he was dragged out of the room; the nurses ominously sliding shut the iron door with finality.

Arthur glared with the intensity to burn a hole through Hatter's head as he locked the door and strode over to the trolley. 'You fucking coward.'

'Oh please. You knew that this was coming.' Hatter muttered as he picked up and flicked the syringe to collect the trapped air bubbles and squirted them out. 'You knew that I would make contact with you sooner or later.'

'I didn't expect you to make a friend while you were at it.' Arthur accused and Hatter rolled his eyes.

'Wang? Hardly. An arrogant, greedy little man who is no more than a pawn.' He dismissed and turned to Arthur.

'In what game? This whole business with the missing scientists and 'X', are you it's puppet master? Why?'

Hatter leant in a bopped Arthur on the nose. 'Aw, love~ That would be spoiling it, wouldn't it?'

A grunt escaped from Arthur when Hatter forced his head back against the chair to expose his neck, and raised the needle's point in his other hand to search for a vein.

'You're not going to tell me what is it?' Arthur gasped, wincing at the prick whilst his lids already began to grow heavy, partly sliding shut.

Through the hazy spots that began to swallow up his vision, Arthur saw Hatter grin his cheshire-cat grin and tap the side of his nose.

'It's like I said, love. Spoilers~'

Alfred waited. Waited and bide his time as he led away from isolation the room they had Arthur, back through the recreation room and down into the holding cells. The yakuza split off and left the nurses to finish the job of locking Alfred up.

The American waited for the barred door to be slid open with a metal screech and both nurses to be behind him before he lashed out with a roundhouse kick. The two women slumped to the floor and Alfred let them, his lip curling as he dragged them into his intended cell and proceeded to strip the taller one of her scrubs and pull them on.

The only problem was, said scrubs were quite clearly intended for it's female owner, with her name tag 'Marge' sewn in on the breast pocket. Alfred clicked his tongue at it, but made no move to rip it off. Hopefully no one would look too closely.

Keeping a ever vigilant eye over his shoulder, Alfred retread his steps back up the stairwell and thought about his next steps.

Even with his super strength and supposed immunity to Lucid powers, Alfred had no desire to charge to Arthur's rescue guns blazing. That path would likely bring the entirety of the building's security and TPD down on him. No. He needed to avoid conflict as much as necessary.

Alfred pulled out his phone, and hissed when he saw he had no bars. Shit. He was going to need a working phone to.

A working phone…like the one he had seen on the desk of the recreational room. The corner of Alfred's mouth curled upwards and he returned his phone to his pocket to set off with renewed enthusiasm.

Now he was getting somewhere.

'Hey, how's it going?,' Alfred winked as he leant down onto his elbows and peered through the recreation room's front desk's protective glass. The young nurse behind it blushed a deep crimson, and her lipstick stained lips opened and closed wordlessly, resembling a goldfish.

'Listen, sorry to be pain in the butt, but I'm still kinda figuring out the ropes of this place, and— Ha, well— it's kinda embarrassing, but I've totally forgotten what the code is for the phones. Could you be a doll and help a guy out?'

'O-of course! Here, please—use mine.' She stuttered with an averted gaze before she disappeared and opened the side door into the small room.

'You're an angel.' Alfred thanked with one of his most dazzling smiles, and chuckled when the woman hid her face in her hands and ducked out to run to the bathroom.

The inside of the little room was cramped with too much furniture and towers of paperwork that Alfred had to dig through before he found the landline and punched in Matthew's number.

The tone rang for several seconds.

'Hey bro. How's the date with Kirkland going?' Matthew answered.

'Matt, listen to me. Arthur and I are in trouble. Big trouble. Hatter is real and has us at Bridgewater in Spades.' Alfred spilled, hardly taking a pause between words. 'He's got Arthur trapped in this room. I'm free and making my way to him, but we're going to need a ride outta here.'

Over the line, Alfred heard the thunder of footsteps and a door slam. 'Allistor, Seamus and Dylan are on their way. Jesus— just, be careful Alfred.' Matthew whispered.

Alfred nodded and cut the line just as the young nurse reappeared at the door; the American pretty sure that she'd reapplied a new coat of cherry red lipstick. However, before she could speak and ask a potentially embarrassing question, Alfred handed her back the phone and sucked his gut to ease past her.

'Thanks hun, appreciate it.' He saluted with two fingers and jogged for the hallway that led to Arthur; nodding his head to passing staff to blend in.

Upon coming in to turn the last corner, Alfred skidded to a halt and ducked back to hug the wall when he saw the two yakuza men guarding the metal door at the end.

'Tell me you didn't think it was weird that they had the same face.' One muttered to the other, Alfred straining his hearing to listen in.

'Hm?'

'Him. Him and the Lucid guy they're testing the modified strain of 'X' on. They had the same face. It was fucking weird.'

'Listen kid, once you get to my age, you learn that sometimes it's just better not to question these kind of things.'

Alfred gulped thickly around the lump that had formed in his throat. They had injected Arthur with fucking 'X'.

The older of two suddenly put his finger to his wired earpiece before he motioned for the younger to follow him down the hall toward Alfred. The American held his breath as they pasted by, releasing it heavily once they were out of sight, and moved.

'Arthur, I'm coming.'

The summer's sunlight shone aglow in the fragrant, green meadow below; it's golden rays warming the slight breeze that blew through the long grass and wildflowers. There was not a single puffy white cloud in the sky, and the faint chatter of harmonising birdsong echoed from the bordering woods.

It was a perfect day, so Hatter could not phantom what was wrong with Arthur as he sat at his table in sullen silence; his tea untouched, eyes downcast, and finger distantly combing through Dormouse's fur as he snoozed beside him.

Hatter simply could not understand. There was nothing wrong with the table's spread, the usual company were together, and he hadn't thought the conversation was lacking; Arthur was always rather fond of the riddles and poems they'd exchange when the french fancies came out. But, not today apparently…

Perhaps— Perhaps, he just needed a particularly humorous riddle to liven his spirits!

'Say Arthur,' Hatter piped, deliberately ignoring Hare as he attempted to fit his entire head into the nearest teapot. 'do you know, why a raven is like a writing desk?'

'Because Poe wrote on both of them?' Arthur glumly sighed.

Hatter opened his mouth to laugh, No, wrong silly~, but he closed it again when Arthur slumped back into his armchair with his arms crossed. Alright, something was definitely not on.

Clearing his throat pointedly at Hare to silence his antics, Hatter scooted up his high-backed chair and reached his hand out.

'Arthur? What has upset you so?' He asked and waited patiently.

It got a few moments before Arthur sighed again and uncross his arms, leaning forward to tap his fingernail against his china plate; still not meeting Hatter's gaze.

'I met some other children my age today.'

Hatter beamed. Finally! Arthur spent far too much time around people older than him in Hatter's opinion; he imagined it wasn't exactly healthy for his emotional and mental development. 'That's fantastic! Were they nice? What did you play?'

'We didn't play anything! They were too busy laughing at me.' Arthur cried.

'Hold on. Why on earth were they laughing at you?' Hatter asked bewildered with raised brows that furrowed when Arthur tucked his knees up and curled around them.

'They called me weird because I told them about the fairies that were following us. I was the only one that could see them. They said that I was funny in the head if I believed in fairies,' Arthur mumbled with a sniff before he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his jumper. 'Hatter? Is—is there something wrong with me?'

'No! No, no, of course there is nothing wrong with you!' Hatter was quick to reassure, but the dubious line between Arthur's brows didn't smooth.

'Then why did those children say so?'

Hatter breathed in a deep breath and took Arthur's small hands into his and squeezed. 'You are special Arthur. You're special because you can see incredible things. Others can't, and because they can't, they aren't able to understand you. It's not your fault, all humans have an innate fear of the unknown.'

'All humans,' Arthur muttered back, noting how the collective term had not been applied to include himself. 'So, I am…special?'

The corners of Hatter's eyes wrinkled and he reached up to affectionately cup Arthur's cheek. 'More than you will ever know. Now! Let us forget all about this nasty business, it'll sour our tea! And after all, why should lions concern themselves with the opinions of the sheep?'

Arthur pressed his lips into a small smile before he freed one his hands from Hatter's to select a lilac tea cup that was still steaming, swallowing hard around the thick lump in his throat.

'I suppose…Even so, even if I don't have many—or any—friends for that matter, I'll always have you, won't I Hatter?'

Hatter smiled at his charge, his companion, his everything, and raised up his own tea cup to chink them together.

'Always, Arthur.'

Arthur awoke to the sensation of hot water streaking down his cheeks, and fat line of blood wetting his upper lip. The air around him smelt oddly of flowers, and a strikingly bright blue butterfly fluttered over his reclined form.

In that moment, there were two things he knew with absolute certainty:

He was Bleeding,

And he had no control over it. Someone had stuck a brick between the metaphorical magnets; violently vibrating with all their might to close the gap; stem the Bleeding flow, but impossible to do so.

'What happened.' Arthur heard himself roughly croak, his eyes staring unseeingly at a fixed point on the ceiling above him.

Sat by his head, out of his line of sight, Hatter breathed in, but said nothing. He had seen what Arthur had.

'What happened to my friend? My Hatter.' Arthur sobbed the last part. A fresh wave of water spilled over the corners of his eyes to make the ceiling blur and wobble like jelly.

'The world changed us. We learnt how to lie, how to get what we wanted. We grew up.' Hatter lowly replied.

Arthur weakly shook his head, not able to do much else. 'You defiled Wonderland. You locked me when I needed it.' He rasped, the cavern in his chest numbed any reflexive flinches when there was an ear scratching squeal of metal against tile and Hatter's hand slammed inches from his head.

Sharp, hot pants splayed over Arthur's face as it's mirror image leant into his narrow line of sight.

'All I have ever wanted,' Hatter hissed, each word tight with constrained temperament, barely holding together. 'is for you to come back to Wonderland. Come back to me. I waited for your return, even as Wonderland froze over and fell apart. Even as the woods, and the flowers, and the meadow died and rotten, I waited.

I tried to keep it all together for you. I tried to visit and take care of everyone everyday. Rabbit, Walrus, I tried—I did—but they were so lost without you. All their life, everything that made them them, was gone…'

Arthur gulped. 'Y-you were the reason—'

'I never shut you out, Arthur. You chose that. You did that. I waited for you to come back. I needed you, and you left me all alone.'

'I never wanted that!' Arthur blurted out, rationality gone, his mind too much muddled to comprehend properly what he was saying.

'I never wanted to leave Wonderland forever. Wonderland— was precious to me. It was mine, and I loved it, and god, I miss it. I miss the meadow. I miss the bubbling crooks and it's forget-me-nots. I miss Rabbit and Hare and Absolem,'

Arthur's swimming irises locked with electric blue; searching for something, someone in them.

'I miss my Hatter. The Hatter that ate all my scones, no matter how badly I burnt them. The Hatter that laughed and hoisted the most glorious tea parties that all of Wonderland were dying to be invited. The Hatter who was my friend.'

The Brit blinked in shock when two droplets splashed against his forehead. Over him, Hatter smiled a quivering smile, soundlessly crying as he took Arthur's temples between his hands and pressed their foreheads together in a intimate gesture.

'You cannot,' He hiccuped, 'possibly imagine how happy it makes me to hear you say that, love. Truly it—it has cleared away all my horrid doubts.'

What.

Hatter's pleased hum alerted Arthur that he had actually whispered the word aloud.

'You never wanted to leave me, you said it yourself. It confirms what I suspected all along. It was never your fault that we were split apart. It was their's.'

'Their's?' Arthur breathlessly choked, a coiled knot squirming in his stomach at the direction this madness was taking him in; his head simultaneously the lightest and heaviest thing in the room that spiralled around him.

'Them. Your mother. Your father, your brothers. Anyone, Arthur, that would stand between us. They are the ones keeping you from being with me and Wonderland, the way you truly want to be.'

Arthur sluggishly realised he was shaking his head again from side to side again, his lips uselessly mouthing silent words as Hatter ducked backwards, and reappeared with a second filled syringe; cooing and hushing the string of incoherent whimpers that rose up from the Brit in desperate protest.

'Shhh~ You've done beautifully. Now, just relax for this next part. You'll need your strength.'

He fought to keep his eyes open. He truly did. But the fog was just so heavy, and it swallowed him up so easily.

No less than four metres away outside the metal door separating them, Alfred F. Jones curled his hands into fists and sucked in a quick succession of shallow breaths.

He could do this. He had to do this. Big scary dimensional demon? No problem. Arthur had theorised that nothing Lucid could hurt him, now it was time to put that theory to the test.

Alfred double checked that the corridor behind him was cleared before he warmed his hands together and rammed them against the door. The steel moulded like wet clay beneath his herculean grip as he twisted and ripped the door off it's hinges, the metal shrieking as it was shredded.

The rush of perfumed, flowery air that hit him made Alfred stutter when he stepped across the threshold into the room; now very much different from the last time he had seen it. The four by four square room was, unbelievably, covered in greenery as though someone had replaced the floor with a garden patch; with long green grass, and colourful wildflowers like daffodils sprouting up between the white tiles. Fluorescent fungi mushrooms and butterflies clung to the walls, with Alfred's abrupt disturbance scattering the flock into a panicked flight.

Amidst the centre, like Snow White laid asleep in her glass coffin, Arthur lay back bound in his confiding straitjacket, strapped down to the operating chair, looking disturbingly pale with a equally nauseously amount of blood bleeding from his nose.

Alfred's vision tinted red at the sight of the demon that wore Arthur's face—the one that Arthur had said haunted his nightmares—hovering above him like a fucking leech. Said face had snapped up to him the moment he had taken the door off.

'What the fuck?' It hissed, unnaturally coloured irises wide before they narrowed with poison. 'Alfred.'

'That's right, you sick motherfucker. Here to kick your ass back into the next dimension.' Alfred growled with a crack of his knuckles, running the numbers at how much force he could put into a punch without popping the fool's head like a watermelon (If It really was possessing someone like Arthur had said, then Alfred didn't want to cause too much damage if the someone could come back from being a vessel).

'You shouldn't of been able to touch that door. I spelled it,' Hatter muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Alfred as he stepped away from the unconscious Arthur.

'Super-strength…Immune to Lucid effects—Oh,' Alfred's gut churned at the audible eureka moment and the wicked grin that curled onto Hatter's face.

'Oh, oh Columbia, you bad boy.'

'I'm a fair guy, so I'll warn you once. Let Arthur go now.'

'You're going to break his heart, you know that?' Hatter giggled, before he sprang without warning, fingers lengthening and sharpening into mirror shards to slice him open.

With instincts faster than he thought himself to possess, Alfred sidestepped the lunge and retaliated with a backhand. Hate crunched against the wall—the force enough to dent the plaster and crack bones— and crumpled to the floor, still smiling that awful smile, even as Alfred dashed over to Arthur to release him and hoist him into his arms.

'You're going to break his heart~ You're going to break his heart~,' Alfred gritted his teeth as he forced himself to ignore the giddy chant, fixed his eye at the end of the corridor, and march for it.

'Alfie~ Oh Alfie, do enjoy this while it lasts. He will hate you after it, I promise~'

'Don't listen. Just move. I got you Arthur, can— can you hear me?' Alfred panted as he walked as fast as he could without breaking into a jog through the recreational room; getting a quick glimpse the nurse from before frowning at him in confusion before he was gone.

Arthur's only response was to continue breathing deeply, his head lax and lolling against Alfred's shoulder, smearing blood onto the stolen scrubs.

'Okay. Keep up the good work.' Alfred halfheartedly quipped and pushed open the double doors with his foot.

Thankfully—and admittedly rather disturbingly considering the building was housing some seriously ill individuals— no one stopped Alfred until he reached the final hurtle on his escape route that was the front desk in reception.

'Hold it Marge! Where do you think you're going with that patient?' The receptionist with bird-like features demanded, causing Alfred to skid to a stop just short of the sliding doors where freedom awaited beyond.

'He's, uh—not a patient. He's a visitor, on a visit. Fainted so I thought I'd take him outside to get some fresh air.' Alfred lied, grimacing at how unconvincing he sounded even to his own ears. Man! He freaking hated improv!

'He's wearing a straitjacket.' The receptionist deadpanned back with a glare, and Alfred's heart dropped into his stomach when she moved to press the big red 'LOCKDOWN' button.

No!

'Wait—!'

'Security breach! An unlicensed black armoured jeep has just broken through the barrier. Direct inbound for the main entrance!' A static male voice crackled over the receptionist's answering machine, and Alfred knew: their ride had arrived.

'Gotta go, sorry!' He cried over his shoulder as he pelted it for the doors, stumbling out into the small courtyard just as the trespassing vehicle swung up along side it on the road. The back door was flung open by a dishevelled Dylan with wild eyes.

'GET IN!' He shouted and Alfred dived in head first, twisting his body mid-flight so that he wouldn't crush Arthur on the landing. In the driver's seat—Allistor shotgun—, Seamus floored the ignition and the engine growled as it's tyres screeched to tear back down the way it had came, never stopping, never slowing down until it pulled safely into the Kirkland's building garage.

Woo boy. Bet you didn't see that coming ;)

So I actually juggled with a other ideas about how I would have Arthur react to Hatter appearing; in the early stages I had a big action scene planned with Arthur using some of his most powerful magic to battle Hatter. Obviously, this evolved into what you're just read, and opened up to some nice character moments.

Talking of character moments: Arthur and Hatter. Hatter's character was greatly flushed out in this chapter, and their scenes together were my favourite because we learn that things aren't as clean cut as we originally thought.

Alfred continues to shine, being a little smarty pants to create a plan and using his super-strength. His immunity to Lucid effects was also confirmed, and for those who were wondering; no, being immune is not normal. Very not normal ;)

Now, I have been tickling and teasing the big team-up chapter, and I am delighted to say that I will be delivering next chapter! :D We've got new characters, returning old ones and some twists that will you'll never see coming!

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you are liking this story, please consider leaving a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again, thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!