A/N With the suggestion of Night-Light, I've left this chapter left-centered and also changed the first two. The others will follow as I correct them.

Flashes of Light

When the door closed behind him, his mouth felt dry.

The past minutes everything felt so right, troubled but right. Since he finally saw Alice again on the day before it felt like the sorrowful days of the past year were erased or had at any rate benefited to lead to happiness again. Yet there wasn't much happiness now.

Alice had rejected him, again. She didn't want to go with him, yet she agreed out of conscientiousness. That realization left a bitter taste behind. Maybe he was wrong at last; maybe he was wrong all along.

After Alice had faded away, literally, he had tried to live his life like it was before. However he couldn't live as before, because before he hadn't had made up with time and before he had waited for Alice to come back. He remembered that even out of time it took a painful long while and he didn't want that again. Keeping in mind he also had some things more to do than just drink tea. Through it took him a pretty long time to come to this conclusion, time during which he had only sat there like the sac of Quiddleditch Mallymkun had called him more than once.

The White Queen owned the throne anew and that finally meant for him he had to be back in action. After supplying the whole court with hats, things turned serious and he had more than enough to do to live up to his oldest task. Mallymkun was a great help then, as always, he could always count on her. Things would be much more miserable than anyway if it hadn't been for her sharp mind.

They went to clear problems at the western border of Underland. Whatever happened then, it had caused him to wake up in this strange world of which he knew nothing that Alice hadn't told him. To talk about this had brought back the memories anew and he felt very weak and fragile.

Slowly Tarrant set food after food, pace for pace he steered towards the bluish-white stairs, watched by the sorrowful eyes of Mallymkun.

Step by step he went upstairs. The window of the stairway was wide open and short, white-transparent drapes fluttered, because the wind had turned. Tarrant looked up to the window, weak evening light being the only thing illuminate the gloomy lower floor. However for the Hatter the light was very bright, bright as he saw it that morning.

--

The window was wide open, long white curtains fluttered in the wind. He found himself on the floor but he didn't feel cold. He didn't feel anything. Everything was in a daze, his head hurt, his eyes were sore although he was pretty sure he had slept a long time. He tried to stand up first, but he only fell over his own legs, which interestingly seemed thinner than before. Also he couldn't remember he owned such bleak trousers. However he also couldn't remember where he was and what strange house this was, so he supposed he wasn't to judge. With a bit of help by the bed in the middle of the room, he got up only to face the next surprise… or horror to be concrete. When he saw into the mirror he saw a tall man of approximately 6'1 height, which he was pretty sure wasn't his usual height. He saw a young man with a slender face, straight nose and a mop of boring brown hair, clothed in a bleak suit.

"Hey!" he said, testing to call for the other person, you never could trust those silly mirrors.

Yet he received no answer, admittedly he saw the mouth moving and the hand raising. He raised the hand again and made some wild gestures. Then his brows frowned and his whole face sank sadly.

So, it seemed, this was really him.

Yet if this was him, who was he? He couldn't remember knowing anyone of this appearance, however he couldn't remember how he had come here and he couldn't remember this house, so who was he to judge?

Something wasn't quite alright, through, he didn't know what it was. He got up and looked out of the window to see where he was. When he did he saw a row of big houses outside, a broad street, some greens, and a lot more houses behind that. His heart began to race. Something –really- wasn't quite alright. He felt a shiver run down his spine, his fingers first clutched the window sill, then let go and started shaking. His whole body started to rock when it hit him like a wave.

He screamed and it was pretty loud. A wonder no one had heard it. He screamed again when flashes of pictures flooded his mind:

A Marchhare. A carriage. A white court. A lovely blonde lady. A river full of heads. Falling into a deep well. A bloody Queen. A dark person in front of a blue sky. A benevolent Queen. A small, white child with dark eyes. A little hut in the woods. A big mansion. A red sofa. White garden furniture. A Bandersnatch. A cat licking his hands. An Alice. A lovely blonde lady. A burning hand to his chest. Striking swords with the Knave of Hearts. Agony.

"Who am I? WHO AM I?" he called without answer. When the pain started to fade away he found himself once again on the floor. "Who am I?" he whispered, stopping to shake. The Marchhare. The white court. Mallymkun. The fight. Alice. He remembered. He remembered being that Hatter, the Mad Hatter. How was his name? He thought of a big hat. A lovely, wonderful hat. MY hat, he thought. Chessur had always wanted to lay his claws on it. He was Tarrant Hightopp. Hatter of the White Queen, friend of Mallymkun and Alice, the champion.

He needed to get up and get a hold of himself. He needed his hat. Where was it?

He walked through the room and the upper story, but there was nothing to find. Something of the house was strangely familiar but at the same time not. It took him a wile to search everything, but there was no one to find. He called out for his friend and desperately hoped for Chessur to show up and tell him how it was a joke to cheer him up (and get the hat). But he wasn't only not to be seen; he really seemed to not be there at all. Nobody was there. He was all alone, no matter how often and how loudly he called.

Shortly before falling into a severe depression, Tarrant realized there were stairs left which lead to the lower story. He took them and found himself in another very white and boring story. At least he could get out of here, wherever 'here' was. He was stopped by sound, through, a sound from the kitchen. Someone was sobbing.

The Hatter went to look after it but first he saw nothing, but the sobbing grew louder and more intensive. He looked down and found a maid sitting in a corner; at least he thought this was how a maid looked. She had wrapped her arms around her knees and cried dearly, it broke his heart if he had one.

Tarrant kneed beside her, he heard her quietly saying: No, no, this isn't me… that sounded kind of familiar, so he asked her what she cried about.

The maid looked at him like a ghost and backed against the wall "Who are you? WHO ARE YOU?!" she asked upset and her eyes couldn't decide too look more desperate, frightened or ready to attack.

"I'm not sure who I am," he said, "But as far as I know I'm Tarrant Hightopp, hatter of the White Queen."

"You?!" she exclaimed, "YOU are not Tarrant Hightopp, I know that Hatter, he is my best friend and…" she looked into his eyes "You ARE Tarrant, aren't you? Oh what have they done to us! Look at you! Look at me!" she raised her hands and when she saw them again she sobbed deeply, those were not her hands, her hands were small, cute and furry. "What have they done!"

"They?" he asked, "Do you know who did this?"

Mallymkun came to a halt and looked even more sad "… no. I don't know who did this."

"And…" he looked at her confused, "What did they exactly do to you?"

She stared at him with her mouth agape "I'M A DAMN DORMOUSE!"

He tilted his head "You look like a nice maid to me."

"THAT'S THE PROBLEM!" she screamed, "I'm look like a human but I am a dormouse! A beautiful dormouse!"

"You are a dormouse," he repeated sounding not convinced.

The dormouse took him by the collar of his suit and shook him: "What is wrong with you? Of course I am a dormouse and you know that we have been together for years as Hatter and Dormouse!"

He blinked a few times "Oh, right," he said "I think I remember that."

Mallymkun drew a deep, deep breath to avoid exploding and let him go. "What else do you remember?" she asked rather snippy but she received a full status report. Both shared what they remembered, however all they found were very old, fond memories and how they found themselves in this house. The time between was completely erased. Everything that was left for them was acquaint themselves with the current situation, try to make the best of it and –end- it as soon as possible.

Day later they manage to leave the house and walk through the streets, yet only a week later they heard that Alice Kingsley, the headwoman of a daring trading company overseas, would leave the town. Both had a flash of new memories and something in them told them strongly that they had to contact her- not that the Hatter wouldn't have done exactly that anyway.

But when they found out where she was, they came too late. Just in the moment they arrived the haven, they saw her ship already driving outside of it. Tarrant called for her, shook his hands, threw a newly made cylinder but it was of no use and the hats here didn't fly quite as well as in Underland.

--

The Hatter blinked and asked himself how long he stood on these stairs, all the light had gone, it was dark outside. He quickly climbed up and shut the window before aiming for his bedroom; there he laid down on his bad, eying the ceiling.

Mallymkun and he, they had a hard time the past year, through it could have been worse, he supposed. Somehow they always found money in a chest above the fireplace. Somehow the vegetables in the garden grew exceptionally well. Somehow no one was suspicious no matter how strange they acted in this new world with new rules.

They had tried to find out more, with little success, and tried to go home, yet they came to the conclusion that it was of no use with no Alice. Luckily Mallymkun got the news that Alice would be back in a year and a half, so they had still chance even through it would be difficult to live in this 'London' town. Difficult it was.

Tarrant looked out of the window; there were no curtains anymore, as there were none left in the house. When he had a kind of breakdown and couldn't even remember who he was when Mallymkun told him, when he wouldn't believe her and insist that what she told him about Underland made 'no sense', she had taken the curtains, some needles and scissor and brought it to him.

At first he was confused because he had even forgotten what did best and liked most. Through when his hands patted the textile, his hands automatically grabbed the scissors and did what was right and –felt- so right. Like a worker bee he got some wire and started making a hat. That way, over time, he had turned all curtains into hats nobody would ever wear, but it calmed him a lot.

Somehow, something was working against them. He just knew it, and somehow he felt that they were not alone. Sometimes he really felt someone was watching them. Something put doubt into them, a thing called Reason that made them doubt themselves, it even attacked Mallymkun!

Poor, old Mallymkun was always sure who she was, he seemed to not be irritated by her surroundings or by Reason, but that day she had run nervously and alarmed through the building and was looking for her tail, until she decided that there was no tail and that she went quite mad.

He couldn't recognize her then, it was an image full of hurting and he couldn't do anything else than hug her and tell her the only truth he knew: That they both were quite mad and that this was exactly the right way to be.

This evening, for the first time, he felt right and had no doubts. Reason had finally shut up, he was free and in his freedom he had only thoughts for Alice. She would come. She had to come. She would.

They would go back with her, find out who was responsible for this and beat the living Terribounty out of him!

The hatter smirked with an orange tint to his eyes, this night he slept excellently.

-

TBC

A/N I hope you enjoyed this chapter. With the next one, our journey will finally begin and we will come a bit more near to the truth about the recent happenings to our favorite characters.

In case someone asks what the Outlandish words are (they are made up, I didn't find them in any Caroll-themed dictionaries):

Quiddleditch- a kind of grain that swells when it comes into contact with water, it becomes glue-like and slimy, also a lot heavier, therefore a sac of Quiddleditch could neither support itself standing, nor would it be easy to lift.

Terribounty- a place full of terrible woe, pain and hell, semantically similar to "hell".