Usual Disclaimer - I have no legal rights to Alice in Wonderland, nor any of it's characters.

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Chapter Seven

Now

Doctor Wilson looked up from his papers, and had to catch his breath. "You're... you're Alice! Impossible!" He blushed. "Forgive me, you must be a descendant of hers. The semblance is amazing." Reaching over the desk, he motioned to the empty seat across from him. "Please, sit down. Sorry for the outburst, that was rude of me."

Alice took the offered seat, and smiled. "It's quite alright, I can understand how curious it would be to run into someone that looks exactly like a picture drawn by a patient of yours. No wonder everyone here has been looking as me so strangely. They see the semblance too. However..." She reached into her purse, and pulled out a driver's license. "It might shock you a bit more, but feel free to check the birth date listed. That's not a typo."

Doctor Wilson took a quick glance, then studied it intently. He looked up from the identification, then back to it, several times. The silence in the office was only broken by the ticking of the clock on the wall. "You... you are Alice. The real one, the one Tarrant's been looking for all of these years..."

"I was naturalized as a citizen of the United States in the wonderful year of 1923. I'm Alice Kingsley. And you... you have my Hatter." She smiled again as he handed back the piece of laminated plastic. "His name is Tarrant Hightopp, he was the Hatter to the White Queen of Underland. He offended Time one occasion too many, and so Time has been ignoring him out of spite. Time, however, did take his offer for me, and I've not aged a day since coming back to London to turn down the proposal of a rather boorish Lord. I've been waiting for decades. Please, let me see him."

Doctor Wilson took a sip of water, and then set his hands upon the desk top. "My dear, he's not in any shape to see anyone at this time. He's having one if his silent fits."

"Silent fits?"

"He just sits in the corner, staring at the walls. He's had them before, they usually last a week or so. Right now, he's not even bothering with eating, or sleeping for that matter. He's also a very dangerous patient of ours. I don't want it on my conscience if he was to hurt you. Before I'd let you wee him, you'd have to be briefed on proper security measures, and I'd never leave you with him alone. It wouldn't be safe." Wilson reached out, and pulled out a pen and some papers. "We'd need to have you sign a release, saying you will not hold us responsible for any injuries."

"What? I plan to take him home, with me! I've waited all these years..."

"And once you're in a position of better information, I'd be willing to release him to your custody, with proper safeguards in place. You cannot simply take this man home, and expect nothing to happen to you or him. He's a fragile soul, I don't know if he'd even be aware enough to acknowledge your existence at this point."

Alice sighed. "What is needed, then, to get him home with me?"

"First, there is security issues. Mister Tarrant has an uncanny ability to slip out of just about any restraint system that's been cooked up. The x-rays show nothing out of the ordinary, but sometimes... he bends in directions that boggle the mind."

Alice giggled at this. "You've never seen him Futterwacken."

"Futter-what?"

"It's a dance, never mind. Please understand, money is no object to me. What all would I need, to ease your mind enough that he's well taken care of?"

Doctor Wilson took a long breath, then started writing. "This is what it's going to take, to make this all possible..."

Now

Tarrant was being amused by the wall. There were so many shades of white, if one was willing to stare long enough and concentrate hard enough to find them. He liked these walls, they didn't hide needles or leather straps or chains. They also held up the ceiling quite well, a marvelous skill and ability of properly made walls. Too bad there were no pictures or mirrors, but he could not very well stick a pin in the bricks, let alone taking a hammer and nails to the surface. He had even tried that tape strip thing that came in little rolls, to place a few sketches on the blank white walls, but the sticky part of the tape was not very thrilled about it, and he had found his pictures on the floor after a visit to the hobby room. At least, he mused, the floor had been kind enough to hold on to the sketches until he could retrieve them.

Tarrant turned his attention to the floor, only his eyes moving. The floor was also quite nice in here, if a bit boring in a grey tile that somehow never came quite clean, no matter how much scrubbing the nice lady with the mop attempted. He was curious about what the tiles were actually made of. His bare feet had walked on them enough times, back and forth, that it was not marble or ceramic or wood or porcelain, but the exact composition was not being very revealing to his bare feet. Sliding from his seat against the wall, he lay the side of his face on the tiles. No, that did not solve the confusion. He remembered to blink, then went back to his musings about the floor and walls.

This was a world of walls and floors. He had to think hard on it, to remember the last time he'd walked on grass or leaves. Was that in the second institution, or the third? The locks had improved on the doors, and the various staff he'd been with had quickly learned to check him for pins and needles after hobby time. Mallymkun had been a frustrated teacher, but Tarrant had learned even more on the fine art of picking locks though simple trial and error. Who would know that the orderlies would not be thrilled about open doors? So many doors, so many walls. Stop thinking about walls and doors, it simply was a waste of time.

Doctor Wilson. He had been the first to actually keep his promises to him. There were no more ice baths, no more leather straps, no chains to the ceiling. There had not been any of that horrible tasting gas that made his stomach all very unhappy when he woke up. No one cut him, no one beat him, everyone was very polite. Well, as long as he behaved himself. A twitch of a grin ghosted over Tarrant's face, then faded. There were times when it just made sense, to not be the model patient. Then there were injections, and straps to a strange bed that had him facing the floor. But that was not often, and Tarrant had to admit that the treatment was far milder than he honestly deserved. To think, he'd bit that poor girl's hand! Well, she did have to say something about Alice.

Alice. His eyes shimmered green for a moment, before returning to the faded blue they usually held. She was most likely dead now, he realized that enough time had passed in this world to bring her to an earthly eternal resting place. His Alice... No, never his Alice. She had most likely been buried in a land far from her London. He hoped that pretty flowers kept her company, as he had obviously failed in his personal quest to find her and return the both of them to Underland.

Underland. How he missed his home, where his good friends knew that there were moments when Tarrant was not quite the best host for tea. They were so understanding, so caring. He would never Futterwacken with his friends ever again. Were they still alive? Time was more forgiving in Underland, he understood that. In his long life before coming Above, he'd never seen an aged Underlander. Oh, there were deaths, but it usually came through war or accident. How old was he? What year is it? How long would he live here Above? Why was a raven like a writing desk?

Alice... He had lost his Alice...

Orange tinted tears ran down his face in silence, as he continued to stare at nothing in particular.

Now

Doctor Wilson took another look around, stunned at how fast his list had been filled. Such attention to detail, everything in it's place. He turned to Alice, and shrugged. "This is perfect. How did you manage this, so fast?"

Alice closed the door to the private wing, and bolted the door from the outside. The door was solid steel, set in a steel frame. There was a small peek hole in the door, guarded by more bars. "I told you, money is no object for me. In my youth, I was but an apprentice in the company my Father started. As time passed, money just kept piling up. Even the crash of the Great Depression didn't wipe me out." She grinned. "I might not be the Chairman of the Board anymore, but I do own controlling stock in my company. Money will not be an issue, not if it can bring my Hatter home."

"I noticed that the rest of the house is not quite so new. Recently purchased for this reason?"

"Oh, no. This is one of the escape houses, when a family member has had enough of the flock back home." Lifting a file from one of the available tables, Alice handed it over to Wilson. "These are the personnel files of the staff. I'd appreciate if you'd look over them, and make sure I didn't overlook anything."

He flipped through, taking a quick glance at the various papers contained within. "I'd have to take more than a look, but if your preparation for his safety and yours are any indication, I doubt there's going to be many issues."

"How soon can he come here?"

Doctor Wilson sighed. "He's still being moody. But hopefully by the end of the month, Tarrant will have settled down enough to be relocated." Setting the files back on the table, he continued. "I'm not thrilled by this, to be honest. It's obvious that you care for him, and he's been hunting for you for over a century. But, he might not be the man you remember. There's plenty of stored up rage in him, and he's bound to say or do something that would harm your heart, more than he could hurt you physically. He's seen the side of the medical world that's not the clean world of television or movies. I don't know if he'll ever be completely safe to be alone with, unrestrained."

Alice squared her shoulders. "I never lost my muchness, Doctor Wilson. He helped me find my muchness a long time ago. It's only fair if I help him find his again. By the end of the month, hopefully?"

"If he's ready, then he's yours at the turning of the month."

Soon/Sooner/Now

The note with breakfast said that Someone Special was coming to see him that evening. Not bothering with eating, Tarrant headed to the tiny bathroom to take a long look at himself in the shiny metal plate that served as a mirror for him. His hair was atrocious, going this way and that after sleeping on it all night, and his eyebrows were an absolute disaster! Running the comb through his hair did nothing for the stray strands, so he turned on the water in the shower and went to quickly devour his breakfast in record time while the hot water finally made it's way down the pipes.

Hopping into the shower, he scrubbed his hair and skin as though punishing each inch of his body. After all, when had he last been lucky enough to host a guest, let alone Someone Special. Nothing would be good enough, he mused, as Tarrant rummaged in the shower caddy that held his various shower time cleansers. Taking one more scrub to his skin, he rinsed off and reached for the towel. Drying slowly as to not miss an inch, he wondered who would want to visit him. His family was dead in Underland, and no one Above seemed to really care for him. Fix that thought, he grumped at himself. Doctor Wilson has been a wonderful person, much better than any other doctor or orderly or nurse in memory.

Next, choosing clothes. Alas, there were not many combinations available, and the colors... Not that surgery green, it did nothing for his complexion, not mentioning the memories it brought to the surface. White it would have to be. Did he need socks? Tarrant was not fond of modern socks, they were so very boring and plain, but they did help with the chafing of the modern shoes. Hmm. Shoes or slippers? He needed socks if he wore the shoes, but slippers were much more comfortable, and didn't need socks, but they were also not exactly in the greatest of shape, but the shoes didn't fit much better... Slippers it is. Whomever the guest was, it was very unlikely they would pay much attention to his feet. Yes, slippers, at least his feet would be comfortable.

Lunch came and went, and still no Special Someone at his door. Had the person changed his mind? Was this a joke on him, something to hopefully make him laugh? It was no laughing matter, to say that Someone Special was coming to visit, then no one arrive. In fact, it was worse than forgetting tea time, or hobby time, or just letting him draw for a bit. If this was all a joke, Someone not so Special would simply have to pay for this terrible hilarity. There was nothing funny, nothing at all.

Dinner. They remembered his tea. Once again finishing his meal in record time, Tarrant then sat back on his bed, but was too wound up to remain still for very long. Hr turned to pacing, his slippers making little sound on the tiles that he'd never quite decided what they were made of. Sit down on the bed, back to pacing, on the bed, on the floor, listening at the door... Was that a rhyme?

Was that footsteps in the hall outside the room? Was it the person who took the tray from dinner? Was it Someone Special? Was it all in his mind? Sit on the bed, settle down.

Voices from the hallway. "Is he having a good night, Greg?"

"He's been practically dancing in anticipation, Doctor Wilson. Is this the young lady that...? Wow! Amazing! If I didn't know better..."

A young woman's voice. "It's a long story, Greg, one that would take a lifetime to tell you. But, not being rude, I've been waiting for this moment for ages. Now, if someone would be so kind as to open that door?"

It could not be... Never possible... But she would think of six impossible things before breakfast...

The door slowly swung open, the hinges being silent that evening.

Tarrant looked up from his hands, which for some odd reason had taken that moment to hide under his armpits. His toes, he could not find his toes. Why were his toes hiding? Why were his hands hiding? Could it be?

"Alice?"