Later that night, well after midnight, March glanced up from his papers as someone rapped weakly at his door. Standing, he yawned and walked over, scratching at his furred chest. He was dressed naught but in his trousers, as he usually slept. Unlocking the door, he opened it with a "Hello?"

Hatter fell in, face ashen and pale, and he whispered weakly, "March… it hurts…"

Catching him, March groaned when he saw the harsh stripes of still-bleeding crimson on Hatter's bare back, "Ooh… he really went all out this time…" He hefted his comrade up and gently dragged him over to the bed, where he laid him down stomach down. Clicking his tongue, March trotted over to a cabinet in his corner, retrieved a bottle of disinfectant he kept especially for this sort of thing. Uncorking it, he sniffed it, coughed, and sighed, "I thought I was going to be able to get rid of this stuff… Thought you and Jabberwock had this all settled." He turned back to the bed.

Hatter nestled his face into the covers, shivering. His back was one big mass of scars, with long stripes showing where Jabberwock had tortured him times before. "Bliddy Jabberwock. He used the whip with the metal studs… Manacled me to the ceiling again…" He flinched as March poured some of the disinfectant on the wounds.

"What did you do?"

"The usual. Plus, he got mad about Jack."

"Well… you did eat him. And he was a general."

Hatter scowled into his pillow, "He betrayed me once again. And he's always been on my bad side. Don't be surprised. I know you killed the Rat. Just hope that Jabberwock doesn't find –OW!" He jerked as March prodded some gauze down into a horribly deep cut.

Pushing his friend back down, March scraped a piece of leather out of another gash, "Ah… don't say that… I've only one set of whip scars on my back and I intend it to stay that way."

Hatter reached back with his hands and felt at the wounds, "Is it bad?"

"Nothing new. Just a new batch of scars for you."

Sighing, Hatter sat up slowly and raised his arms over his head. March retrieved some gauze from his cupboard and started to wrap the wounded man up, ears laid back in worry, "You know, Hats… I think you should just forget about getting back at Jabberwock. It'll be a whole lot easier if you don't get him mad every time you stay here."

"That's asking a lot."

March sighed, "That's asking for your life. One day, he'll figure that he doesn't need your rebellion anymore and will whip you till you die. Or something like that."

Grabbing the ends of the gauze, Hatter started to knot them tightly, "He needs us for a bit more. When he doesn't need us anymore, then so be it. I'll just wait till he's open and then…"

"You'll kill him?"

"…Yes."

"You know that won't work."

"I can hope."

"You can hope. And die. He can't."

Hatter was silent, glaring down at the ribbons of bandages that crisscrossed his chest. Groaning, he slumped down back onto the bed and asked, "Can I sleep in here tonight?"

"Mind if I use rope?"

Hatter extended his arms, "Not that that will do much of anything. But at least tie my feet up too. Are you staying up all night?"

March shrugged as he loosed a length of rope from around the curtains, "I have to finish reading this report on our next target. Jabberwock wants us to get rid of some rebel in the warrens who stirring up trouble."

Muttering, Hatter let his hands and ankles be tied before responding, "I'm grounded to the castle. You'll have to do it alone."

March froze, "Alone?"

"It's just one man, isn't it?"

"Protected by a whole bloody regiment!"
"Ah… too bad for you." Hatter's voice was sarcastically grim as he laid down on the bed.

Breathing out a sigh, March retreated back to his table and started scribbling down into his kill-book, "I'll do a poison. Think that'll work?"

"Read me the specifics."

As March began listing the details, Hatter sniffed in pondering thought. March finished and asked, "What do you think now? Poison? One creek for the whole camp."

Hatter yawned and changed his position so that his head was nearly smothered in pillows. His muffled voice came out from underneath the fluffs, "Poison."

"Toraus flow-"

"Idel berries."

March paused and glanced at Hatter, eyes questioning, "That's harsh. Five hours of torture before dying. I was thinking quick and painless."

"They're rebels. And, remember, Toraus poison disfigures. Jabberwocky probably wants his head, right?"

"Yes… But five hours? Why not… Asdew or Brymin?"

Growling, Hatter shoved his head deeper into the pillows, "Idel."

"But-"

"Shut up. I'm trying to sleep."

March smiled and turned to his notebook, scrawling out 'Idel' next to the small page of information on the target.

He'd need to go distill the poison before he left…

Hubble walked the cobbled streets silently, glancing up at the castle walls. The oil lamps that lit the street flickered as a faint wind started up, but Hubble refused to go in. He needed to find out when the guard changed. Above him to his right, he saw two black cards pacing the battlements, spears over their shoulders.

One noticed him and peered over, " Midnight walk, eh?"

Hubble nodded and waved at them, friendly, "Not really midnight, but yes. Can't sleep."

Smirking, the other card leaned over and asked, "You having fun? We've been stuck here since dusk."

"Ooh…" Hubble shifted, "That sounds bad."

The first card yawned, "Horrid time for watch. Good thing that we switch out tomorrow for the noon watch."

Hubble called up, "What sort of things you look out for?"

Leaning on the wall, the second card pondered the question, "Well… mostly attacks, or riots… Thieves and sorts of things like that."

The first card held up a finger, "But Hatter's here, so we're on the lookout for him too."

Hubble scowled as he remembered Hatter's little night escapade in the forest, "Anything's been wrong in the last few weeks?"

"… A thief. Been stealing supplies from the cooks. Haven't caught him yet, but we will."

Rolling his eyes, Hubble nodded, "I'll tell you if I see someone." He turned and walked away, ignoring their calls of goodbye.

Blazes, they were nearly normal.

March glanced up from his papers once more when he heard Hatter groan from his bed. He gazed silently at the bed as the man tried to struggle up in a dream, then fell back to his resting place.

A second later, he tried again and successfully sat up.

March stood and walked over, careful not to wake his comrade. Waking Hatter up in the middle of a dream was like kicking over a diseased rattlesnake.

He would bite, and hard.

Hatter started twisting his hands out of the rope, quickly followed by his feet. Standing, he stumbled over to the door and sniffed, turning back to gaze at March, "March? Tea ready?"

March answered quietly, "Yes."

Grinning, Hatter snapped to the door and opened it before sliding to the floor in pure sleep.

March stepped over to him and watched him curiously.

That had been an oddly short bout of sleepwalking.

Why?