Chapter 30: (A/N: Hello again. Did any of you do your rereading homework? No? Oh well. Your choice. Anywho, thank you to those of you who reviewed the last chapter! I appreciate your kind comments. :) A special thanks goes out to Son Goshen for some helpful constructive crit! Hopefully implementing that in this chapter and future chapters will raise the quality of the angstiness. C: Well…that's all I really have to say.

Little Chapter 29 (cuz I'm too lazy to find your account and PM you this, sorry.): Yes. That is correct. Creepy nightmare to show you all that, despite all hopes, Ace isn't quite out of the trauma. PTSD's a bitch. Poor Ace…mental trauma runs deeper than physical. Oh Ace…he needs help. It is sad. He needs to stop doing that! It's hard for others to help him if they don't know he needs help. It's not healthy. His mind's too fragile for this right now, and even if it were it'd still be bad. He's very, very strong, but everyone has their limits. He needs help. Now. But he refuses to SAY that he needs help. That would be good, but easier said than done.

Sorry I've been lazy and haven't responded to your other reviews lately…X( I suck.

E: Hahahahahahahahahaha thank you. :D That's good to hear. Okay, that's fine. I do appreciate reviews if you have the time to leave them, but if you don't, don't worry about it too much.

Panda Bear: hahahahaha well…this story has been stewing in my head for about a year and a half if not two years now. I've had a lot of time to come up with this. :) Glad you like it! School sucks. The research paper's almost done though, so pretty soon I won't have to worry about it anymore. C:

TFR: Nice to have you back! :D It's okay, just review when you have time. I do love hearing from you. C: Glad you liked it! I worked hard on it. Poor Ace…he needs help. Well Mr. Savage is Hare, but Mr. Savage can be anyone in Wonderland, including Queen. Hahahahahaha thank you. I wish I was a Jedi…

Guest (no signature): Yeah that would suck…a lot…poor Ace…

And now, ON WITH THE CHAPTER!

Oh, there's some not true stuff in here about physical therapy.

This chapter has been rated T, almost M for DISTURBING IMAGERY (there's another pretty effed up nightmare) and SWEARING.)

Ace jolted awake, biting his tongue to keep from screaming. He sat there, waiting for the terror to somewhat recede, trying to shove the most recent memory-gone-worse from his mind. He tasted blood, and realized he had bit into his tongue. Slowly he loosened his clenched jaw and gently probed the punctures his teeth had made with a finger. They were fairly deep, but the bleeding was already slowing.

Ace took a deep breath and ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair. His hands, even his shoulders, shook. After a moment he pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them. The room was dark and Ace sat in silence, the infirmary's quiet being broken only by his uneven breathing. He turned himself and leaned back against the wall, facing so he could see the entirety of the room. Being able to see everything reassured him somewhat, nothing could sneak up on him now. The only entrance to the room was the door that led to the hallway, which was slightly to Ace's right and he could see clearly. Nobody could enter the room without him seeing them instantly.

His eyes were focused on that door, watching for even the tiniest movement. His heartbeat began increasing again. He was certain, completely convinced that something or someone was about to come through that door. Any second, any moment now the handle would turn, the door open, and in would stride Hare to deliver Ace back to hell, to drive him deeper and deeper into pain, desolation, and madness.

Stop it. Nobody's going to come through that door. Don't be ridiculous. Ace tried to reason himself out of his fear, and forced his rattled nerves to settle somewhat. His eyes, though, refused to leave the door. After a moment Ace tore his eyes away, searching for some kind of distraction.

The infirmary was dark, and Ace could only just make out the details of the room due to the weak light that filtered in under the hall door. There were no windows in the infirmary, but Ace assumed it was nighttime as Shanks had bid Ace goodnight before leaving…several hours ago? Ace couldn't be sure. His dreams could last hours or only instants.

Over the last two weeks, Ace's narcolepsy had become his greatest enemy. Even when he only fell asleep for moments his memories were there, biting into him, eating away at him, devouring his mind like worms. Ace had hoped that as time passed the nightmare-memories would fade or gradually lessen, but if anything they were getting worse. Everything was getting worse. The images weren't limited to memory anymore, and his imagination wasn't as innocent as it used to be.

Ace shook his head, trying to clear it of his dark thoughts. No. Things will get better. These things just…take time. That's all. It's just taking a little while. You will get better. After that first accidental breakdown in front of Shanks, Ace had begun covering up most of what had happened as well as the nightmares that plagued his sleep. Ricky, after apparently doing some research on mental health, had been trying to get Ace to talk to him about everything either trying to psycho-analyze him or just as general therapy, but Ace was a proficient liar, especially with all this recent practice. Ricky didn't know about the nightmares, didn't know the full extent of the atrocities Ace had endured, and remained blissfully ignorant of Ace's current pathetically fragile state of mind.

Ace's masks came on easy now, and he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to take them off in front of others again.

Ace took a deep breath. Since he didn't plan on sleeping again for a while, he might as well get something done.

The bones in Ace's fingers had been reset two weeks ago and Ricky had him started on some basic physical therapy. Apparently it was only the phalanges in his fingers that had been broken, so the physical therapy wasn't as extensive as it could have been. Nevertheless, Ace was determined to have his right hand, his dominant hand, fully functional again. He had attacked the physical therapy with a passion, facing it with determination Ricky hadn't seen even in most adults. Ricky had told him that he would have to do activities for both strength and agility so as to get bones that were as strong as before and still had a full range of motion.

Currently Ricky had Ace working on a strength activity. He was supposed to squeeze a fairly soft ball as hard as he could for as long as he could. Ace reached for said ball, catching himself halfway through reaching for it with his left hand and making himself do it with his right instead. At this point in the healing process, he could squeeze the ball fairly hard for about 15 seconds at a time, but Ace refused to give up and was deeply determined to get his hand fully healed.

He also had several agility activities. He was supposed to start trying to do normal things with his right hand, just to practice. Holding forks, pencils, picking up small objects, all of these things were supposedly helpful. Ricky had challenged him to be able to flip a pen between his fingers by the end of the week. In actuality, Ace could do more. He could hold a pen accurately and was now trying to draw. His hand usually started to hurt like a bitch after about 10 minutes, but Ace could endure it for longer. He had actually become quite good, his art evolving from mere doodles to accurate still-lifes and, now, he was working on capturing people. He had a natural talent for art.

Ricky had caught him drawing today and had been shocked by Ace's range of motion in his hand. He'd congratulated Ace on his progress and promised next week they'd move to something harder: origami. This required a level of dexterity higher than even sketching in pencil. Well, Ricky said so anyway. Ace was convinced the subtleties of shading were harder.

Ace squeezed absently at the ball in his hand, holding the position for 20 seconds before releasing. The repetition of the act was sufficiently clearing his mind of the nightmare images that plagued his sleep, and he soon found himself falling into a near trance.

Hours passed in that simple state of being and Ace wasn't truly aware of them. He stared blankly at the wall in front of him, the time ticking by in increments of 20 seconds of squeezing the ball, 25 of rest.

It was the noise of the door opening that roused Ace from his stupor. He was instantly aware, eyes focusing on the door as the handle turned, then the wooden door slowly swung inwards. Ricky strode into the room, and Ace's mind relaxed. Ace easily slipped on his smiling ceramic mask.

"Good morning, Ricky." Ricky smiled at Ace.

"Good morning, Ace. I brought your breakfast." Ace glanced at the tray of food Ricky had brought. Sausage, eggs, fruit, and a glass of water. Ace had begun to regain the weight he lost, but he still had a long way to go and was hungry almost constantly. Ricky was careful with his portion sizes, but refeeding syndrome was becoming less and less likely and the doctor was growing more and more lenient. Ace accepted the tray eagerly and tucked into his breakfast with gusto.

Ricky turned away from Ace and moved over to his desk. He shuffled through his papers, coming to rest on a specific file. Ricky had been taking notes during his and Ace's therapy sessions. Ricky was sure there was some kind of trauma that Ace was suffering from. You just don't go through something like this without any adverse affects at all. Ricky felt like he was missing something. Something monumentally, gargantuanly large that was absolutely central to Ace's recovery. Ricky flipped through the sheets of notes with mild frustration. He'd gathered very little information. It was strange…he felt like he should know more than this by now, but no question he asked Ace had ever brought any kind of powerful reaction from the boy. Ace skimmed over details when not specifically asked for them. He participated in their sessions, sure, but still…Ricky was doing something wrong if he only had this much information this late in the game.

In truth, most of Ricky's notes revolved around that very first conversation between Ace and Shanks when Ace had first woken up. That had been helpful to Ricky. As terrible as it sounded, even in his own mind, Ricky needed Ace to break like that again. If Ace was ever going to completely heal, he was going to need to be completely honest with himself and with others. Ricky could understand why Ace would have trust issues, but why would Ace hide things from them? They were his friends, his saviors. Ricky had to get inside Ace's walls, needed to get some kind of reaction out of him. The way Ace had been responding to therapy…it was like he didn't even have a problem. But that, frankly, wasn't true after what Ricky had observed Ace's first day. Ace had a lot he needed to say, but for some reason Ricky couldn't comprehend, he just wasn't saying it. Ricky sighed and lifted up the file, grabbing a pen off his desk as well. He turned back to Ace and smiled.

Ace was about halfway through his breakfast when Ricky turned back around. The doctor grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to Ace's bed. He sat down in the chair somewhat lazily, resting his left ankle on his right knee. He balanced the file on his left knee, pen poised to write. After several moments of silence in which Ace finished his breakfast and Ricky apparently reexamined the file, Ricky turned to Ace, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

"So, Ace. Today we're going to try something a little different. Have you ever heard of something called hypno-therapy?" Ace shook his head slowly. "Well, the general idea is that I put you in a kind of trance. While in that trance I can communicate directly with your psyche. It can be helpful for patients with any kind of repressed memories. You say you weren't aware of the past two weeks, that you were in some kind of mental suspended animation?" Ace nodded. He hadn't told Ricky, hadn't told anyone, about Wonderland. Ricky, Shanks, none of them would understand exactly what made Wonderland so beautiful. All they would see was the violence, the ferocity. Ace was afraid of what they'd think of him if they saw what kind of a place his mind was. He was afraid they'd be afraid of him. He didn't want that, so he kept quiet. "Well, will it be alright with you for me to put you in this trance?" Ace considered the question.

"Will I be…aware during the questioning?"

"Not exactly. Technically you'll be awake, but you'll have no memory of the questioning or your response once you come out of the trance. Ace considered his response. He could technically refuse, but that might raise questions that were hard to answer. But…if he wasn't aware of what he was saying he might let something slip that he didn't want out in the open. He couldn't be sure what he would say, didn't know how far down his lies could go. He considered it, then came to a conclusion. He'd just have to take the risk. If Ricky was suspicious Ace was hiding something it would be harder to keep any of his secrets shut away. Ace nodded assent at Ricky.

Ricky pulled an object from his pocket. It was a simple weight on a string, which he intended to use as a pendulum. He raised the object, holding it so the weight was even with Ace's eyes.

"I'm going to swing this back and forth. I want you to follow it with your eyes. As you fall into the trance, you may feel sleepy or lethargic and the whole world will probably feel a little surreal. Just relax. When I clap my hands twice, you'll wake up." Ace nodded and Ricky began swinging the weight back and forth. Ace's eyes tracked it left to right and back again, over and over. Time passed, but Ace wasn't really aware of it.

Ace felt like he was sinking into airdarksmoke again, like Caterpillar was making him dream again. His mind felt like it was sinking in honey, and he felt warm. Ace wasn't sure when his eyes had stopped moving, but he came to realize he wasn't looking at the weight anymore. The whole room seemed like it was faintly, faintly glowing, and the edges of everything seemed softened…almost blurred.

"Alright, Ace. I'm going to list words and I want you to give me one word in response that is the word you most associate with that word. Make sense? For example, if I say "pen" you may say "paper."" Ace nodded sluggishly. Ricky took a deep breath. "Alright, then. Let's get started. We'll start simple, then work our way up. Some words may seem obscure, but I want you to give me truly your first reaction." Ace nodded again. Ricky glanced down at his papers. "Sky." Ace's reply came easy.

"Blue."

"Water."

"Liquid."

"Wood."

"Trees."

"Ocean." Something distant touched Ace's eyes.

"Freedom." Ricky nodded and scribbled something down on his page.

"Ship."

"Sailor."

"Iron." Ace's eyes hardened slightly.

"Hot." Ricky glanced between Ace's face and his bandaged arm where Ace's finger was absently tracing down the place where Ricky knew he had been branded. He looked back to his paper and wrote something down.

"Alright, that was a good start. Now we're going to move onto adjectives and emotions, okay? Again, just tell me a word you immediately associate with whatever I say." Ace nodded. "Happy."

"Home." Ricky raised his eyebrows and jotted down a quick note.

"Compassion." A quiet smile came to Ace's face.

"Mother." Ricky noted the smile on Ace's face and how his eyes lit with the expression as well, a rare occurrence these days.

"Companionship."

"Sabo."

"I'm sorry?" Ace looked Ricky in the eye.

"Sabo. It is-…" Ace looked down. "…was my brother's name." There was no point in hiding Sabo. Shanks and the rest already knew about him and they knew he was dead. They didn't know how he died or how Hare had used Sabo's face to tear Ace's world apart. Ricky nodded and dropped the subject. They had talked about Sabo before. It was one of the few things that got a deep emotional reaction out of Ace.

"…Let's move on, shall we?" Ace nodded. "Alright. Um…" Ricky glanced at his paper again. "Justice."

"Lies." Ricky looked at Ace curiously. Ace had practically spat the word.

"Truth."

"Nonexistent." Ricky was studying Ace closely, confusion bordering on concern covering his features. Ace was staring at the ceiling, face hard. He couldn't help the little truths that were slipping out of his mouth like poison.

"Order."

"Moronic."

"Love."

"Ineffective." Ricky's face showed open shock at that one. He ventured another.

"Fear."

"Effective." Ricky had been writing down the last few responses word for word as well as providing a quick shorthand commentary. He'd have to go over this bit again later, Ace was being much more frank than usual. It…It almost scared Ricky.

"Guilt."

"Aaron." Ricky looked at Ace in confusion, but no explanation was forthcoming. Ricky thought it better to continue on while he had this more open side of Ace available.

"Humanity."

"Crabs." Again Ricky looked at Ace in confusion, and again Ace provided no answer.

"Shame" Ace opened his mouth, about to speak, but then hesitated. Something in his mind stirred and made him hesitate. There was something…something he wasn't supposed to say. Ace's mouth was partly open, pausing in the formation of those two syllables. The part of him that had stirred discarded the word he had planned on saying and replaced it with another.

"Helpless." Ricky could see Ace's inner turmoil growing and thought it good to wrap this up. He had a lot he had to think about, and Ace looked tired, almost drained.

"Sleep."

"Dream."

"Religion."

"Dead." Ricky blinked at that one.

"…God."

"Abandonment."

"Heaven."

"Unattainable." Ace was looking almost bored, his face almost entirely blank. These were easy. His mind sunk deeper, settling itself more comfortably in the ambiguous softness.

"Beauty."

"Roses."

"Music."

"Gramophone." The answers were just rolling off Ace's tongue. He put no effort, no thought into them. His brain felt like a hive of bees that had been doused in wood smoke.

"Art."

"Crystal."

"Elegance."

"Pocket-watch, tick tick tick." Ricky raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask.

"Savage."

"Savage?" Ricky nodded. Ace's eyes, unfocused and almost cloudy, centered on Ricky's face for the first time since the beginning of this exercise. He looked confused and tilted his head to the side. "Savage?" Ricky nodded again. Ace's eyebrows remained gently scrunched, the picture of bafflement.

"…You never said you'd be asking about names, doctor."

Ace opened his eyes slowly. He groaned and sat up, raising a hand to his head. Was I sleeping? Why does my head feel so weird? Why is it so cold here? Ace rubbed absently at his head, but froze when his hand found something sticky in his hair. He lowered his hand in confusion. His eyes widened.

His fingers were covered in half-dried blood.

Ace looked down at his body and felt his heart stop. It was…It couldn't be. There was just no way. No more was the white of bandages, no more was that that healing pale skin of fabric that concealed nearly everything that had happened to Ace. Even the stitches were gone. Instead, a much different sight greeted Ace's eyes.

His injuries were all back, exactly as they had been on the day Shanks had rescued him.

His ribs stood out against his bruised and slashed skin. He was thin almost to the point of complete emaciation. All of the gashes, cuts, bruises, and burns stood out against Ace's skin like a horrifying mosaic.

He was exactly as he'd been in Hare's cage.

Ace realized he was sitting on a wooden floor and the boards were familiar to him. No…No, please no. This can't be happening. I…no, I refuse to accept this! Ace swallowed, trying to push back his growing terror.

The floorboards were the same as the ones that had been in his cell on Hare's ship.

Ace shook his head, in complete denial. No. I…Why would I… Ace felt his heart constrict harshly in his chest. It…It was all…It was all a dream? Shanks saving me, Ricky healing me, winning my freedom again? A dream? A lie? How… Why… N-No! Ace was downright shaking now. He couldn't believe it. He was back. Back in his cell. Back in his cage. Back in his own personal, inescapable hell.

There was a light coming from nearby, and Ace could see the shadow of the bars being cast in his direction. That meant something Ace was terrified to even think about.

It meant someone was down here with him. And the only person that ever came down was Hare.

"Good morning." The words made Ace's breath freeze in his chest. There was something off, something unexpected about the voice, but in Ace's current state of near panic he couldn't decide what it was. Slowly, hesitantly, Ace raised his head. His heart stopped in his chest.

Sabo stood outside the bars. Not the living, breathing poet that Ace had known, though. No. This wasn't that boy at all.

This was a monster.

Sabo wore the same clothes he had been wearing while he was alive, but they were different now. The stained dress-shirt was buttoned unevenly, the wrong hole matched with the wrong button. Ace could see some of Sabo's skin because of the dishevelment of the shirt. His skin was pale because of long-term imprisonment in darkness, and the purple, yellow, and almost greenish bruises stood out against his skin like colored lights.

Sabo's pants weren't in such great shape either. They had once been about knee length, but now maybe 4 inches had been torn off of the left leg. The pants were stained, crusted with dried blood. Sabo's belt was unfastened and had pulled free of two of the belt loops. A thin trail of blood snaked down Sabo's left leg, A tiny pool of it forming under the arch of Sabo's left foot. He wasn't wearing any shoes.

Ace turned his eyes to Sabo's face and had to fight not to scream.

Ace could see where Sabo's face had been peeled from his head, could trace the line that went under his chin, up below his scalp and back down again. Blood trailed down his neck from the injury, staining the neck of Sabo's shirt red.

Sabo's face was back, though.

It had been stitched to his head unevenly, unprofessionally, and it didn't cover the entire space where Sabo's face used to go. The face was crooked somewhat, tilted somewhat to the left. Bits of muscle that occasionally twitched or spasmed were visible in some places around the edges where the skin hadn't gone to the right place. The thread that held it to the head was thick, about half as thick as Ace's pinky. It was dark grey-brown, most of it stained with Sabo's blood.

Sabo's expression was truly horrifying.

His face had been cut, almost carved, in the area around his lips. Now his mouth stretched far wider than it should have, the edges of an unnatural smile coming almost as high as his eyes. The horrible grin was asymmetrical, the right side a little higher than the left. Each end of the smile was held in place with more stitch work, a cross-stitch on each side holding Sabo's lips in place. Sabo's eyes, too, were wider than they should have been. The lids had been pulled back, forcing his eyes wider than they should have gone. They were stitched open in this unnatural position via two stitches on each upper and lower lid using thinner thread.

Sabo's eyes, however, were gone.

Two black holes stretched deeper than eye sockets, seemingly endless. Nothing but darkness could be seen even though logic said Ace should have just seen muscle and bone.

Ace's hand was covering his mouth, pure horror apparent in his expression.

"Oh my God…What have they done to you?" Ace's voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. Sabo's head, previously facing off to Ace's right, turned so it was turned directly at him.

"I…I'm all better now." Sabo's voice was hollow and quiet, sounding more like a child that Ace could ever remember. Sabo's head fell to the side as if all the muscles in his neck suddenly stopped functioning. His head was perfectly horizontal, passing the natural breaking point of the human neck. "All better…Doesn't even hurt anymore." Sabo's voice was still quiet and broken. "Hatter fixed me. I'm all better now. All better…" Sabo trailed off. Ace, terrified as he was, felt something surpass his fear.

Grief.

Ace moved himself closer to the bars, drawing up right next to them, right in front of Sabo. Sabo continued to stare straight ahead, stare at the place Ace had been before. "Sabo…" Ace could feel tears in his eyes. How could he have allowed this to happen? How could he have allowed Sabo to take his place that day? Sabo's head had turned and he was now 'looking' down at Ace again. Ace looked up into his face, directly addressing the horror his actions, his failures had brought about. "I'm sorry, Sabo…I'm so, so sorry…" He felt tears, warm and wet, sliding down his face.

"Why, Ace…?"

"Why what?"

"Why're you wearing that stupid human suit?" Ace looked at Sabo, confused.

"What?"

"It's time to shed your fake skin." Ace felt his fear beginning to overshadow his grief again. Sabo's voice was hollow, devoid of any of the humanity Ace had considered his brother.

The voice was dead.

Ace began backing away from the bars, distancing himself a little from Sabo. His heartbeat was elevated and his trepidation was growing by the moment.

"I…I don't think I want to do that, Sabo." Sabo cocked his head a little to the side.

"But why not? If you don't shed your fake skin, you'll never be able to see." Sabo's face twitched as if he were trying to smile. "I can see everything now. And it's so very happy here. Happy. Always happy. Happy as clowns. Don't…doesn't Ace want to be happy too?"

"Yes…"

"Then come with me!"

"Sabo, I can't do that." Sabo's head cocked a little to the side.

"But why not, Ace?"

"Because Luffy needs me. Alive. And if I go with you, I may not be able to get back." Sabo was silent for a moment. Ace watched him carefully, but he made no move.

Eventually, Sabo turned away from Ace and grabbed the candleholder that was sitting on a barrel directly behind him. The candle was the only light source Ace could see, seated in a simple old-fashioned candleholder. Sabo slowly turned back toward Ace, holding it in one hand.

"If you don't want to see everything you're permitted to see nothing." Sabo's voice was the same as it had been before, hollow, passive, and inexpressive. Sabo turned to his left and began walking slowly down the hallway. Ace blinked in surprise.

"Sabo, wait!" The darkness was already beginning to close in around Ace, the one light source leaving with Sabo. Sabo didn't slow, merely continued his lethargic pace away. The darkness edged closer.

Ace scooted away from that encroaching black, moving towards the bars, towards the retreating back of his brother. "Sabo, please! Don't leave me here! Don't…don't take the light!" Ace's back was now pressed against the bars. Sabo was quite a distance down the hall and only continued moving further away, the darkness pushed closer still, brushing against Ace's toes. Complete panic was now washing over Ace's mind. He didn't want this, didn't want to be alone in this blackness, trapped, helpless, defenseless. "Sabo!"

"The train is coming with its shiny cars,

Its comfy seats and wheels of stars,

So hush my little ones, have no fear.

The man in the moon is the engineer." Sabo's voice echoed down the hallway, unattached and unconcerned.

"Sabo, please! Don't leave me here! Not in the dark! I'm scared Sabo, help me!" The darkness was pulling at Ace's knees now, and getting closer with every step Sabo took.

"The train is coming with its shiny cars,

Its comfy seats and wheels of stars,

So hush my little ones, have no fear.

The man in the moon is the engineer."

The light disappeared.

Ace shot awake instantly, rolling out of bed and crashing to the floor. His breathing was ridiculously fast, his heart hammering against his ribs with such force he thought it was going to burst out of his chest. He turned his head about wildly, trying to get his bearings. It was dark, dark, dark and Ace couldn't take it, couldn't remain in this blackness, trapped forever. Ace's adrenaline levels were through the roof and he was in a complete fight-or-flight response. There was nothing to fight though, Ace didn't know how to kill darkness. That left him running. Because Ace sure as hell wasn't staying here.

Ace's feet found there way under him before he even knew what was going on. As he placed his bodyweight on the limbs they screamed their protest in blinding shades of pain. Ace didn't care. They were strong enough to hold him, strong enough to get him out of this place. He took a step towards the door, lurching as his leg tried to give out from underneath him. He managed to catch himself before he fell fully to the floor, grabbing onto the door handle for support.

He threw the door wide and fell-walked into the hallway, slamming into the opposite wall then using it to help support him. He looked about wildly, searching for the way out of this place. There had to be a way out. There had to be. Ace saw a door at the end of the hall with a very faint silvery light coming from under it.

Ace staggered down the hallway as fast as he could. His legs felt like they were being rebroken with every step he took, but he couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop. The fear was still racing through his mind and he had to get out, had to escape, had to run away from this darkness before it swallowed him entirely.

Finally he made it to the door, twisting the knob and throwing it wide as soon as the handle touched his hand. The door swung outward faster than Ace had ever seen a door move and slammed into the wall behind it. Ace didn't care about the noise, though. All he cared about was that it wasn't dark anymore. Ace collapsed against the doorframe, leaning against it heavily before slowly sinking to the floor at its base.

Wind caressed his face. The feeling was foreign, yet familiar. Like something he had dreamed once and then forgotten upon waking. It was cool and lightly damp with spray. The air smelled like the ocean and nighttime, and Ace didn't think he'd ever smelled anything so wonderfully real. Tiny lights shone down at him, each ablaze with their own individual luminosity. They were like tiny shards of glass set in velvet then illuminated from behind. They twinkled and danced before Ace, complex and unfathomable. What were they called again? Ace's mind took a moment to retrieve the word from distant memory. It seemed so far away. A word unused for an unnaturally long amount of time.

Stars.

Ace could have wept.

That one word…why hadn't he remembered it instantly? Ace began looking around, looking at all the things his life had been missing and naming each in turn. Wave. Sea. Wind. Spray. Moon. Sky. Night. Color. Horizon.

It was the first time in a month and a half that Ace had been outside.

Ace pulled himself out of the doorway and leaned back against the wall, closing the door quietly. He stared up at the night, at the stars, at the moon.

When had he last seen the sky?

The waves beat softly against the sides of the ship, their hypnotic rhythm relaxing Ace as he stared at the stars.

When had he last heard the waves?

The wind tugged gently at Ace's hair, stroking his face with spray-wet fingers. Ace took a breath through his mouth and literally tasted the salt on his tongue. That sensation alone, the taste of the sea air, was absolutely astounding to Ace. For the last month he'd breathed the same stale, dead air. This was fresh, seemed new, clean, and alive in a way Ace had forgotten air could seem.

"It's wonderful, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is." Ace was too awestruck to form a more interesting sentence. The voice hadn't really surprised him. He had felt the figure approach, had expected his visit before even that. Ace stared at the stars for another moment before looking to his left.

The White Rabbit stood to Ace's left.

His hands were in his pants pockets, face upturned as he stared at the sky. His face had changed somewhat since Ace had last seen him. He looked more human and less like a monster than he had when Ace had attacked him before leaving Wonderland. His right arm was back too.

He was wearing a dark dress jacket with a black waistcoat underneath. He wore long, dark slacks and black, shiny shoes. His white dress shirt was as impeccable and pristine as ever, nary a spot to be found. Ace could see the bulge of his pocket watch in his waistcoat pocket, as well as the gold chain that trailed across his chest, through one buttonhole on his waistcoat, and hooked on the opposite pocket.

Rabbit's face was pretty much as it had been when Ace had first met him in Hare's cell. The only differences were his eyes, which were slightly wider than before, a little more of the white showing around the hazel-grey iris. Rabbit's ears had changed too, bending in several weird ways as they arched off his head. He was wearing a top hat now too.

He was smiling.

"Why're you here, Rabbit?" The Rabbit turned his eyes away from the sky to look at Ace. The smile remained on his face, a simple upturn of the lips.

"You're the one who called me."

"What?" Ace was genuinely confused.

"You called me here. When you woke up. Whenever you get really scared like that, it's my job to show up."

"Why?"

"Because there's always a way out and it's important you remember that." Rabbit turned his eyes back to the stars. "Seems I made the trip in vain this time, though. You don't want to come with me right now." Ace bristled slightly.

"You say that like I'm ever going to go back with you. Surviving Wonderland was hard enough the first time, I'm not about to subject myself to another Caucus Race thank you very much." The Rabbit chuckled lightly, shutting his eyes.

"Oh you will. You will. Believe me, compared to the cruelties of reality, Wonderland is a gentle place. At least we have rules." Ace snorted.

"Yeah. Sure. Because you tearing that woman's arm off was totally adhering to 'rules.'"

"Did I say the rules involved morality?" Ace looked at Rabbit again, brows furrowed. Rabbit was still smiling, eyes closed. "Morality isn't real, Ace. You aught to leave your delusions behind."

"Oh I should, should I? What's to stop me from abandoning you? You're a delusion as well."

"Am I? How can you be sure?"

"…What does that mean?" The Rabbit's smile widened slightly, turning into a smirk.

"How can you concretely prove that I'm a delusion?" Ace raised an eyebrow, incredulous.

"You regrew an arm in two weeks. Real things can't do that."

"It all comes down to perspective, Ace. While you're in this world, your mind plays by this world's rules. But as I recall, Wonderland seemed real to you while you were in it, did it now? How can you prove to yourself which is real and which is delusion? Just because we play by different rules there does that make us a breach of nature?"

"It's all a matter of perspective, you say. All a matter of choice? Of choosing my reality?" Rabbit nodded. Ace smiled to himself. "Sorry, Rabbit. You made a pointless trip." Rabbit looked at Ace evenly, then turned his gaze back to the stars. The smile didn't fall from his face,

"Ah well. I wouldn't call it pointless. Despite your masks I can see you. I can see you questioning yourself. Questioning this. Wondering if maybe, just maybe it doesn't matter which is real, only which you like better." Rabbit looked right at Ace's face. "There's a part of you, Ace, that will always be part of us. There's a part of you that wants to come back. It'll whisper, it'll always leave you asking, wondering about us. And it'll grow stronger. Trust me, Ace. I know you. One day, maybe one day soon, you will be back. You'll realize just how cruel this world is and that you don't want to be a part of it and then I'll be there. That's a promise. I'll be there to take you down the rabbit-hole again."

"Go away, Rabbit. I'm not going with you. Not now, and not ever again." Rabbit turned and began walking away from Ace, across the deck. He paused just before the staircase and spoke to Ace over his shoulder.

"Hatter got some lovely new teas since you left. He was quite put out by your dislike for herbal teas. Next time you visit, could you at least pretend to like it, for his sake?" Ace turned and glared at the Rabbit's back.

"Fuck off, Rabbit. I'm not going with you. I'm never going with you." Rabbit gave a brief chuckle, then retreated. Ace turned his gaze back to the stars, trying to regain that former sense of complete wonder and peace he'd had before. Several minutes of silence passed.

Yassop backed slowly away from the door to the deck, closing the tiny amount that he'd had it open. He backed down the hallway and leaned against a wall. This…this was big. Yassop turned around and walked down the hall, eyes wide. He stopped outside Ricky's room. Was it the middle of the night? Yes. Still, Yassop could tell this was important and thought Ricky would like to know as soon as possible. He knocked on the doctor's door. There was no response, so he knocked louder. Several moments later, a tired-looking Ricky squinted up at him.

"Whas the matter, Yassop?" Ricky's voice was thick with sleep, but he was becoming more aware as time passed. Yassop took a deep breath.

"I think there's something seriously wrong with Ace." Ricky looked much more awake at that, though he continued to squint at Yassop due to the absence of his glasses.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Yassop bit his lip.

"I think…" He took a deep breath.

"I think Ace is having audio-visual hallucinations."

(A/N: Fail cliffhanger is fail. *shot*

Anywho, yeah. This chapter had a bit more plot than the last one…the next one is going to seriously up the plot content, so that's exciting. I would have made this one longer and possibly included more plot…but then it would have felt too long…and it's 3:30 in the morning…and I didn't want you to have to wait TOO long for the chapter…so yeah. Maybe you hopefully kinda liked this chapter…?

Oh, guess what? THERE'S A BONUS QUESTION! YAY! Haven't had one of these in a while…okay. Here we go. During the nightmare, there are three entirely separate quotations from entirely separate things. What lines are they and where do they come from? If you get any of the quotes you will have officially earned my approval. Just so you know.

Anyway, I don't have anything else to say and I really have to go to sleep…so I'm going to go now. Please review! I'll love you forever if you do! *stares up at you with puppy eyes* ~Mountain97)