It's mid-January and things are going startling well-- Hatter's been a part of her world for just around a month, making his own mark on New York. He works part time at a tea shop when he's not spending time with Alice or checking in on Wonderland-- short visits where he helps the refugees settle back in to their lives, or spend some time with the tea-addicted as they rehab. She never asks but can tell that he feels it his responsibility to make sure everyone's ok, since he was one of the main tea sellers of Wonderland, and it makes her fall more and more for him every day, the relief that she feels whenever he returns safely overwhelming.
A part of her still expects things to go to hell like it always has with her past relationships but Hatter's not like the others and things carry on, he stays and she stays and things just feel right, even when they argue.
One day, she dozes off during a movie marathon they were having in his apartment and wakes up to find him not next to her, watching her sleep, or tinkering in the kitchen. He's no where to be found and she frowns, sitting up. "Hatter? Hatter!"
He's a heavy sleeper so she tries to convince herself that he went to bed, that he's not left without saying goodbye, but old fears return to her as she stumbles off of the couch and looks around the small place he had claimed as his own within a week of moving here. She relaxes a bit when she notes that his hat is still resting on the couch over her shoulder. She plucks it up and goes to look for him. Tadah, she thinks, pushing his bedroom door open. "Hatter?"
The room's dark, quiet, but she can hear him breathing steadily. "Hatter? Are you awake?" Her confusion grows as she flicks the light on and finds the bed empty. "Um. Hatter?"
"Down here," he finally says from the other side of the bed, sounding sheepish and a little breathless.
"Are you ok?" she asks, worry mixing with the confusion as she leans over the bed and finds him laying on the floor, hands crossed over his chest as he looks up at her, grinning anxiously. "What are you doing down there?"
"Um," he coughs awkwardly, sitting up. "Well, y'see, I heard from someone in the tea shop that laying on a hard, flat surface could help one's back... so, here I am."
"What's wrong with your back?" she demands, eyes widening as he joins her on the bed. His hands ghost over her back and she shudders at the touch, shaking her head. "Nuh uh, you're not distracting me," she insists, sitting up and moving away from his fingers. "What's going on?"
He seems to be weighing what to tell but finally sighs, slumping forward. "Well, I figured the aches would fade away, but they've not..."
She pieces the puzzle together correctly within seconds, remembering how the pain flooded his eyes as suits pinned him to the ground and shakes her head, fingers rushing to her lips. "Oh, God, Hatter, is it from when those suits slammed you off of the horse?" she whispers in horror.
He examines his fingers thoughtfully, nodding. "Yeah. I mean, it's not horrible pain but sometimes..." He drifts off, kicking himself for saying that much, not wanting to make it worse for the girl next to him.
She turns to him and he's horrified to see tears pricking at her eyes. "I'm so sorry..."
"Oh, don't cry!" he says, cupping her face. "Please, Alice. It's not a big deal."
She ignores him, reaching up with a hand to clasp his. "Lay down on the bed, on your stomach," she requests quietly.
He frowns and says, "Alrigh'..." When she moves aside, he stretches out and sighs, his eyes closing on their own.
"Where's it hurt?" she whispers, pressing her hand on his shoulder blades carefully, not wanting to make him feel worse.
"Lower," he mutters, melting into the pillow as her soft touch goes lower, finally hitting the right spot, midway down his spine. She wonders how many other aches and pains he hides from her-- the thought makes her sad and she loses track of what she's doing for a minute. He hisses and she stops, apologies tangling along her vocal cords. "It's ok, continue," he encourages her, easing back into the pillow as she resumes massaging.
"Is this helping at all?" she whispers after a few minutes, not wanting to wake him up if he's asleep.
"Yeah," he breathes groggily, voice distorted by the pillow. "A lot, actually."
She smiles. "Hatter?"
"Yuh-huh?"
"Next time you hurt or have a problem, tell me... please?" Her voice is tentative, so young sounding that it makes a part of him ache.
"Of course," he breathes.