Before I get started, I'd just like to say a big thank you to all my readers! I've never felt so loved before, and I've been writing fanfiction for quite a while!!!!! So THANK YOU!

Now, a few things regarding this chapter:

--about halfway through, it switches into the first person. Why? Because I felt that that particular part of the story was better told in first person. However, as Mally is the speaker, it is done with an accent….so I hope you'll still be able to read it!

If not, message me!

Anyway: This chapter is my longest yet!!!!! Ten pages! Probably why it took so long to write ^^

I hope you guys like it!!!!!

There were only three times in her young life that Alice Kingsley could ever recall bursting into tears. The first time had been when she was but a child—twelve to be exact—and had opened her front door one morning to a grim-faced man reporting her father's abrupt death overseas.

The second time had, in fact, been in Underland—the eve before Frabjous day—where she had paced back and forth across the White Queen's balcony, as she juggled protecting those she loved against protecting her own life.

The third time happened when Alice opened her eyes to how foolish she had been since her arrival back into the real world. Questions to answer….things to do….what had she done but told a prude, dreadfully boring auburn-haired snob he was not the right man for her? Did she really need return to London just for that? Especially when there already was a man—a passionate, wonderful, half-mad man—waiting for her just down the rabbit hole? A man who—she was sure—would not hesitate to sweep her in his arms and make her his wife?

"I c-can't believe I d-didin't see it before!" Alice whimpered, wrapping her arms around her shaking upper body "If I had….If I knew he felt that way I…." You'd what, exactly? Her conscience questioned, deciding that now was an excellent time to voice its opinion, What would you have done differently, Alice? She fell silent, biting her lip as salty tears rolled down her cheeks. Indeed, what would she have done? If she had been aware of the Hatter's feelings from the start, could things have ended differently? Would she even have left Underland? It was impossible to say. She was still just barely able to comprehend the fact that the Mad Hatter, the very life and soul of the magical world she cherished so dearly, was in love with her. Plain, clumsy, awkward Alice. The Alice everyone assumed would never be a proper lady. The Alice they believed could do no better than a lord in marriage.

Surely a madman was far better than a lord.

Oh, but Alice, that voice in her head interjected once more, what of your own feelings?

The already-present dull ache in her chest throbbed, her tear-stained face twisting into a pained expression.

Yet another unanswerable question.

It was around this time that the emotionally distraught girl had worn out the patience of her silver-furred visitor, to the point, in fact, where Mallymkun had drawn her sword, leaned forward, and jabbed—quite rudely—the flesh of her lower leg. With a squeal, Alice flinched, drew her legs to her chest, and glowered. "W-was that really necessary?"

If the situation had not been one of such intensity, a smirk would mostly likely be placed upon the Dormouse's lips. As it was, she merely tucked her sword back into its hilt, and folded her arms over her chest. "Depends. Do I 'ave your attention now?"

As she was currently locked in a battle against the few choice words threatening to spill from her mouth, Alice chose to nod in reply. It saved her from being skewered by the slender—yet incredibly sharp—needle-like sword, and—hopefully anyway—allowed her to maintain the illusion that this ordeal was not driving her completely bonkers.

After all, when one is told one's best friend is in love with them, how are they supposed to act?

How are they supposed to feel?

"Good." Mallymkun went on, indifferent to the jumble of questions stirring within the girl's mind, "thought your tears 'ad gone and drowned ya." She shook her head, clicking her tongue to the roof of her mouth. "A lot of good that woulda done poor Tarrant…." The Dormouse added, though mostly to herself, as the tone was bitter—if not a tad spiteful. To the point, in fact, where Alice decided that pretending to ignore—for it was pretending, as she had always had exceptional hearing—Mallymkun's private additions to their conversation was just not going to work.

Eyes still red, but no longer leaking tears, her slender brow furrowed, a window into the sea of contorted emotions cascading over her heart. "You think I did this on purpose, don't you." She said through a shaky breath, matching the sword-wielder's tone with one of equal disdain.

Mally's ears flattened against her head. "Did you?"

As before, those 'choice words' were dancing on the tip of Alice's tongue, begging to be released and put their accuser in her place. And though she had indeed earned her right to use them—as she had previously informed Lord Ascot—the blond knew full well now was not the proper time for such language.

On the other hand, that fluttering sensation in her stomach could use some explaining….

"Ah, silent, I see. Guilty as charged."

"What?! Mally, you can't be serious!" Alice cried, slamming her hands down on the wooden floor. "I never wanted this to happen! I care for the Hatter, same as you! And if I had known that he loved…."a pause? Whatever for? "….that he loved me, I—"

She stopped, experiencing a rare sense of déjà-vu. What would you have done, Alice? What would you have done, if you'd known what 'fairfarren' actually meant?

The delicate CLINK of the Jabberwocky vile served as her answer. Head still swarming with troubled thoughts, Alice watched vision as Mallymkun curled both her tail and left arm around the glass container, dragging it closer to the blond girl's feet. "Right then," the Dormouse grunted, careful so as not to break the invaluable vial, "drink up. We don't 'ave…." she faltered, apprehension momentarily replacing her gruff tone, "….we don't 'ave much time."

The instructions were simple enough: lean forward, grab the bottle, take a swig, then off to Underland she would be. Three simple steps, with one simple result.

Why now, then, did Alice's hand freeze—poised just above the translucent vial but unable to do more than hover over it?

What was stopping her?

"Follow your heart, Alice."

Easier said than done.

"Is there a problem?"

The blond girl blinked, retracting her hand in an abrupt motion. After debating just how to answer Mallymkun's question, Alice finally confessed—albeit hesitantly: "I….I'm afraid I don't know."

"Y' don't know?" The swordsmouse reiterated, crimson eyes widening incredulously, "bloody gallymoggers….what d' ya mean by that?"

Once more Alice froze, her words trapped in her throat. "I…." she started, averting her gaze, "….I'm not sure if this is what my father meant. If this" she wrapped her slender fingers around the glass container "is what it means to follow my heart."

There were hundreds of ways in which the Dormouse could have reacted to such an explanation. Thousands, even; many of which Alice herself could predict. 'Who came up with that nonsense?' or 'This isn't some bloody romance novel!' were among the top ten.

Of course, Mally happened to choose the one reply Alice had not accounted for.

"Do y' love 'im?"

A beat. "W-what?"

"Do y' love the Mad 'atter?"

The fluttery feeling returned, along with a slight burning of the cheeks. Did she love the Mad Hatter? That crazy, passionate, wonderful man with vibrant green eyes, and a smile that could light up even the darkest of days? The man who had stood by her side, believing in her ability to slay that horrid Jabberwocky, when she failed to believe in herself?

"Alice."

The man now knocking on death's door….all because of her?

"Alice!"

Despite her seated position, the girl nearly jumped a foot in the air. Whipping her head around so fast she thought she heard a crack, Alice locked eyes with a rather bemused Dormouse. Raising an eyebrow in question, Mally uttered a flat: "Breath."

A gasp—or rather a sputter—hacking cough, followed by a sharp intake of breath. Color rose to her cheeks, this time of embarrassment—which begs the question of why she blushed before—while a nervous smile carved its way into her face. "….t-thank you…." She mumbled, a bit awkwardly as she was still in the process of regaining her breath "….lot of….lot of things to think about."

Something like envy flitted momentarily behind Mallymkun's scarlet irises, a silent message that she found Alice's 'apology' unacceptable. "You think you've got a lot t' think about?" The Dormouse spat, close enough now to jab the larger girl's knee with an outstretched finger, "All you 'ave to do is give me a 'yes' or no answer! That doesn't even compare to the 'ell me and everyone else 'as 'ad to go through since you left!"

Typically, Alice would have regarded her agitated friend with a mild form of respect—a respect that consisted of not losing her composure. A pity she could care less at the present moment. "Well I wouldn't know what you've been through, now would I?" She barked back, pulling her leg out of Mally's reach with a huff. "You've neglected to tell me your side of things."

The swordsmouse's mouth opened to contradict the girl, but closed almost immediately after. Keeping her own mouth shut, Alice watched as the Dormouse grimaced, groaned, then threw her arms in the air. "You're right. You're right. I 'aven't told ya…." It sounded not unlike a statement of defeat, rather than the acknowledgment of derelict information—as Alice had hoped. However, she had yet to curse or shout, so Alice took the reaction as it came, waiting until Mallymkun decided to share her memories; provide some insight into her mind.

She did not have to wait long. Though the sword-wielder had a tendency to act in a defensive manner, if prodded just enough—or left to the mercy of an incredibly uncomfortable silence—the wall she had so carefully constructed around herself would eventually crumble away.

"So you wanna know what I've been through, do ya?" She finally said, keeping her voice low, "….Oh bugger….where to begin?"

You 'ave t' forgive me if I sound like I'm pleadin' my case 'ere, but like I said before, none of us realized just 'ow badly your leaving 'urt poor Tarrant.

I knew 'e cared about ya, but I never really considered 'e'd fall in love wiv ya. I mean, you were Alice: Underland's champion. That was—and don' look a' me like that—all you were supposed to be. Our friend, our alley, and—most importantly—our liberator.

You weren't supposed t' steal 'is 'eart.

And yet, ya did. You bloody captured 'is attention away from 'is friends….'is anger a' the Red Queen….even 'is madness itself.

And when y' left, you took it wiv ya.

What is it they say: when y' break a man's 'eart, 'is spirit follows after? I don' know. But that's exactly what 'appened to 'im.

Y' remember that look on 'is face th' day y' left? Of course you do. Stared right into 'is eyes till you bloody disappeared, if memory serves. Well that expression of 'is darkened considerably once y' were outta sight. 'is eyes dulled, shoulders slumped—like 'e'd been deflated. Yes yes, I know—didn't this be'avior strike us as odd?

Not—and this, I'll admit, I'm ashamed of—entirely. We'd just finished a battle; everyone was ex'austed to one degree or another. Tarrant was no exception….or so we thought, anyway. But really, Alice: Mirana even asked 'im if 'e was alright—I think she may 'ave suspected something long before the rest of them….us….did—and 'e just flashed 'er a sympathetic smile, waved 'is 'and, murmuring something about fatigue. I dunno if she believed 'im or not, but either way, she simply nodded, then turned to the rest o' us—dictating orders and whatnot. Who was wounded, who needed a place to stay— that sort of thing.

A shame she never asked if any of us were broken.

Maybe 'e woulda said somethin' before things got outta 'and.

Oh bloody 'ell—why 're you cryin….never mind, I don't want to know.

Now, as I was sayin'….

I guess I first suspected 'e was acting….well, off….when 'e didn't bother attendin' the celebration th' White Queen hosted some time after Frabjous day: once everyone 'ad 'ad some time to heal and rest up. At first, I thought 'e was pullin' my leg—you know 'ow 'e can be—when he just sat at the 'ead of the tea table and refused to move. Said there was no point in celebratin'; the Jabberwocky 'ad been dead for some time; th' time for rejoicing 'ad long since past.

Thackery—the March 'are, in case y' forgot—didn' take too kindly to that, and made th' mistake o' snappin' at Tarrant: "You're no fun anymore!" 'e said, pointin' a spoon "No fun no fun no fun!"

I suppose 'e woulda gone on screamin' if the 'atter 'ad retaliated. But 'e didn't. 'e jus' sank further into 'is chair, told us that we should go ahead an' enjoy ourselves, but 'e wasn't goin' and that was final.

That last part 'ad been spoken in a Scottish—yes, I do know somethin' of the Upperlands—brogue. I'm sure if I 'ad seen 'is eyes under 'is 'at, they woulda been a nasty, fiery red-orange color.

"But," Alice promptly interrupted, staring at Mallymkun with wide, watery eyes, "if you knew he was in such a state….why did you go? To the Queen's party, I mean?"

The Dormouse frowned, massaging her temples with her thumb and forefinger. "I was jus' about t' get t' that."

"O-oh." The response was weak, trembling….reflecting the horrible anticipation strangling her heart as she sat there, biting her lip every ten minutes to keep the tears from falling. "Th….then please, do continue."

Mallymkun sighed. "Fine then. But no more interruptions."

"O-of course…."

Her brow furrowed deeper. "We'll see 'ow long that lasts…."

I don't know what made me leave Tarrant like that. Any fool could see somethin' was wrong wiv 'im. Guess….guess I didn't want t' believe 'e was really tha' bad—I mean, 'ow could a man who stood in the face o' death jus' weeks ago seem so….different. Un-Tarrant-like. I couldn' stand to see 'im like that….so I didn't. Thackery an' I, unaccustomed to 'is strange behavior….we decided to listen to 'im and just up an' left, tellin' ourselves it was only temporary….that the 'atter would be back to 'is old self in no time.

Of all the slurvish nonsense.

'e didn't get better, but I'm sure ya already knew that.

'e just figured out 'ow to 'ide it from us. For a while, anyway.

It was actually Mirana who suggested it. Might keep 'is mind off 'things'—you, actually, but at the time, I didn't want t' believe that. Now don't go askin' why, cuz that's none o' your business. I jus' didn't realize 'ow much 'e loved ya….

….Right, where was I?

Ah yes: th' White Queen decided to set 'atter up wiv 'is old job as, well an 'atter. Figured if 'e 'ad somethin t' occupy 'imself wiv—'stead of drinkin' tea and sulkin' like 'e was—'e'd remember what 'e was like before you showed up. I thought it was a good idea, and Thackery, mad as 'e is, agreed wiv us. Tarrant, as we shoulda expected, seemed indifferent to this idea. But 'e didn't refuse, so we thought we were makin' progress. Y' know as well as I do 'ow much the 'atter loved makin' 'ats—almost got sucked into workin' for the Red Queen, if y' remember. So we thought, workin' for Mirana, in the finest work rooms y' could imagine—high ceilings, stained-glass windows, those glossy pearl-colored tables—all white, of course—would surely brighten up 'is attitude.

Wouldn't y' know it 'ad the opposite effect?

Yeah, 'e was back to 'is old profession, but that's all 'e bloody did. Practically lived in th' castle, so we 'ardly saw 'im anymore. And even when we did, 'e didn't talk much. One-word answers, and always wiv a horridly flat tone t' them. Like 'e jus' didn't care.

And 'e really didn't. Not about us, or 'is 'ats….or even Mirana, and 'e used to admire 'er quite a bit. Tragic, isn't it? That was a rhetorical question—I'm not done yet. Not quite.

See, after about what you'd consider a month, th' Queen summoned Thackery an' I back to 'er castle—of dire importance, she said. So of course, we obliged, and 'urried to see what was up. We both 'ad our 'unches why we were bein' called for….but actually seein' the problem was an 'ole other matter. Tarrant….Tarrant 'ad apparantly locked 'imself in 'is work room, and 'ad stopped respondin' to any an' all requests to open th' door. Fearin' the worst, no doubt, Mirana came to us—we were Tarrant's best friends, surely we could do somethin'?

We looked at each other—Thackery an' I—wiv rising fear in our chests. The 'atter was, usually, a very social person: 'e 'ated livin' in seclusion, though I never understood why. I only knew this current be'avior wasn't natural. Whatever possessed 'im to shut 'imself in like that must really be bad. I asked Mirana jus' 'ow long 'e'd been in there, and she—and don't interrupt me when I tell ya—said about two days.

Two bloody days, cut off from the res' o' th' world, an' the needs someone such as 'imself requires on a daily basis.

I tell ya, that news nearly sent Thackery hurlin' 'imself a' the door, if the Queen's guards 'aden't 'eld 'im back. I damn near woulda done that myself, if I 'adn't been small—though I'm rather tall for my species—enough t' notice I was approximately th' right size to squeeze under th' door, which, if y' 'adn't guessed, was exactly what Mirana wanted me t' do.

So—a bit apprehensively of course—I did so, pretendin' I didn' see th' sad/worried looks o' those standin' behind me.

Th' first thing I noticed was 'ow dark it was. The blinds were drawn, the lights were off—everythin' was draped in shadow. "Tarrant?" I squeaked, gruntin' as I pulled myself into the room, "Tarrant are you in 'ere?" I know—sounds odd, callin' out to 'im like that, but 'e'd been silent for so long, I was worried 'e 'adn't gone and done somthin' drastic. Bein' a rodent—to which I take great pride in, by th' way—th' dark wasn't as 'ard to see in for me as it woulda been for some, so I was able to navigate my way around the strewn about 'ats and materials pretty well.

Granted, I didn' find 'im till I'd reached th' back o' th' room. In th' corner, actually. Curled around 'imself, 'is 'at clutched tightly in one of 'is 'ands, 'is eyes a faded grey-green. 't's the one an' only time 'e's ever caught me by surprise, an' I didn' like it one bit. Wanted to run out o' the room….if I'm bein' perfectly 'onest. But I couldn' do that. So I stepped forward. "Tarrant? Tarrant, can….can you 'ear me?" I asked in a whisper. Th' atmosphere o' the room called for a hushed tone; I think any other woulda set 'im off.

As it was, 'e didn't answer my question directly….bu' what 'e did say gave me insight to what I'd assumed but never dared admit to up until tha' point.

"I've…." 'e started, then stopped, seemed 'e wasn't used t' th' sound of 'is own voice, "I've been considering things that begin with the letter 'H'…."

'The letter 'H'?' I remember thinkin', 'what 'appened to th' letter 'M?'' See, the 'atter 'ad been stuck on that letter so long, I 'adn't expected 'e'd switch to another one. But 'e did. "Th' letter 'H'?" I asked aloud, hesitantly makin' my way over to 'im.

'e gave me no sign o' recognition; jus' kept right on goin' as if I'd never spoken at all. "Hurt….hopeless….heartbreak."

It was then I realized I couldn't pretend t' be blind anymore.

Yeah. Yeah, I say pretend….because I really did suspect the reason 'e was fallin' apart like this….I jus couldn' bring myself to admit 'e loved someone other than m—

*Ahem*

'e didn't say anything after that; 'e'd exhausted both 'is energy and the extent of 'is regard for me, shutting 'is eyes an' retreatin' into 'is 'ead.

As for me, well, there was nothin' more I could do but leave poor Tarrant for the time being, climbing up a roll of fabric in order to unlock th' door and report back t' the White Queen.

There wasn't much t' say. The 'atter'd simply given up. 'e bloody stopped carin'. About 'imself….about everything.

The room had grown eerily quiet: the only sound being Mallymkun's labored breathing and Alice's muffled sobs. "And….and after that?" The girl asked, gazing mournfully at the Doremouse as another few tears slid down her cheeks.

Mally—also wearing a pained expression—tore her own eyes away from the blond, wringing her petite hands together. "After that…." she concluded, repeating Alice's last two words in a sorrowful tone, "after that….Mirana 'ad 'im taken from th' room an' put 'im under constant observation. I think she was 'oping she could pull 'im out of it—if 'e was monitored closely….maybe 'e'd see what 'e was doin' to 'imself an' stop…." She trailed off, haunted—no doubt—by memories of the past few months.

Memories Alice could have prevented….

If only she had stayed….

"Mally…."

"What?"

Wiping her eyes on the bare flesh of her forearm, she asked: "….where is the Hatter now?" The words were shaky—strained—trying to break what remained of the girl's composure as they rolled off her tongue. This was her fault. Her. Alice Kingsley. Daughter of Charles Kingsley. Apprentice to Lord Ascot. Champion of Underland.

"Th' Queen put 'im up in 'is livin' quarters." Mally replied woefully, blinking—Alice noticed—rather rapidly. "Finally realized there was no point in tryin' to prevent 'im from wastin' away….unless of course—"

"Unless I return to Underland…." The larger girl finished, sniffling.

"Exactly."

And there it was.

The facts were laid out, the timeline dictated….all the pieces of the tortured puzzle of a situation finally put together.

The Mad Hatter was dying. Dying of a broken heart. A heart she broke. A heart that would cease to function unless she went back….

"Follow your heart, Alice."

….back to the world of her childhood—the world of her dreams.

A world where she was not criticized for her forward thoughts….her wild imagination….her headstrong attitude. A world where no one would ever lecture her disdain for corsets.

A world where Alice could truly be Alice.

"Never let anything or anyone deter you from being you."

Heart pounding in her ears, Alice knew what she needed to do. With a bold move, she lifted the vial containing the jabberwocky blood in her hand, pulled off the top, and pressed it to her lips. He was not going to die. Not on her—

"'ey! Leave some for me!"

Just before the entirety of the pungent purple liquid found its way down her throat, Alice pulled the bottle away. "O-oh….right. Sorry."

Mumbling something under her breath, Mallymkun climbed atop the blond's knee, gesturing for her to lower the glass container. Making a face at the bitter but familiar taste of the oddly colored liquid, Alice did so. "I hope that's enough." She said—more for making conversation than anything else. The Dormouse grunted, downing the remains of the vial's contents as her answer to the larger girl.

It was shortly after they had both had their fill of the vulgar stuff that the world became enveloped in a murky haze; the living quarters of the 'Wonder' growing darker and foggier until they were no more than a shapeless blur.

….Right before she vanished from this world, Alice thought she heard the rusty CREAK of an opening door, followed by a gasp and a jumble of muffled words. However, there was very little time to consider who or what was responsible for the mismatched sounds. Currently, Alice could focus on only two things: the pounding of her heart in her ears, and the panic and apprehension swimming in the pit of her stomach. In a voice so faint even Mallymkun could not hear, she whispered: "I'm coming Hatter."

I know I know….you all want to see Alice IN Underland! I don't blame you. But I promise, she'll get there in the next chapter!