Chasing White Rabbits
Summary: The Mad Hatter becomes engrossed with a strange human girl. What begins as a break in a routine and to destroy the perfect exemplar of a human, ends in the unloved to be loved. But this love soon fails, for a fallen angel could never be loved nor love.
Note: Belial is a WO-man (well, as woman as an angel can get). No question about it. She has no male parts. So, henceforth, Belial will be referred to as a "she". Thank you for your understanding.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, nor do I own Jefferson's Airplane's White Rabbit. And yes, I do believe Mr. Carroll was smoking Opium while writing Alice's Adventures.
Chapter Three
Miss Alice Falls Asleep on a Riverbank
Asmodeus looked upon the living corpse with a profound sadness ripping through him that would drive any man to sob, but not Asmodeus. He knew tears meant nothing to Belial and should mean nothing for the victims of her crimes.
He had sensed it; like a nagging throb in the mind. He knew what it was and he came promptly to the tube of the great Living Dead Girl. She was still numb to the world around her, the world that lay now beyond her new life created in her dreams. A real role reversal, Asmodeus mused. Poor creature... But at least she had found peace and solace that could be promised but never met in this world.
She was now under his care, the Mad Hatter's Alice.
"She isn't here, Alice. She has left you. It has been years now. Yes, years... I know you sense that your dreams are fading and the world as it is is finding its way to you. Poor Alice, your trip along the riverbank has come to an end. Mr. Carroll will wake you." He took his cane and stabbed the oversized vile until the glass crack and crashed. The liquid that lay stagnant around her poured out and washed out from beneath his feet. Her dangling feet fell to the bottom of the tube and the wires that poked her flesh pulled out.
She breathed, she had her eyes open... but stumbled to grasp that she was alive. Like a fish out of water she gasped and writhed.
"Alice."
She looked up to him, eyes fixed and breathing eased, "such a strange dream I was having; a dream of yester years.
Her hand subconsciously held her book in a tight protective grasp against her bosom. Her eyelids holding her dreams so protectively. What dream you, Alice, as you sit here by the riverbank? Where do your dreams come from, Alice? Chase you rabbits in your dreams?
She loved that book, the book from which she was born. The book her mother fed her when she trembled as lightning struck or when they came to reveal her father had died or when her mother lay in her bed, death's clammy hands defiling her in broad day. That beloved book held to her heart. Could the pages feel your pain, Alice?
She sighed in her sleep, moving the book up to her chin, exposing the gold lettering spelling out "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" and "Lewis Carroll" in subscript. One moved down beside her to read it closely and to watch her wake. The sun was warm, One would understate, and Alice was becoming uncomfortable in the disappearing shade. Her head moved to her shoulder, hitting it and waking up suddenly, realizing that she had fallen in a dead sleep on a soft cushy river bank somewhere in Basse-Normandy. Away from her town flat, staying with her mother's cousin, to rest.
One moved One's hand to hers, "it's good to see you, ma chère Alice."
"Of all places, Illusionist. One of your disappearing acts?" One laughed. "It's good to see you."
"Moi wanted to see you again, Alice, truly."
It was her turn to laugh. She couldn't know how she lured One into curious passion; wondering what could possibly make such a woman tick like clockwork? That was for One to know and for her to find out.
"I wanted to thank you for bringing me home that afternoon."
She looked weary, tired... Like she always did. But she could no longer suppress it. She vowed to her brother that they would never leave Rouen, she would care for him in the house of their parents, and they would never be forced to seek the aid of meddling family members. Mother hadn't, why should she? But then, one morning, Alice had woken up like she did every morning and drove herself down to prepare her brother's breakfast. Down the stairs lay her brother and no amount of shaking woke him.
The doctors had declared it to be the work of exhaustion. Stupid blind fools. It was a seizure; plain as day. Le Grand Mal, if you will. It was definitely caused by Meningitis. One saw this, the swelling of his brain. But it was too late. The infection had run its course by the time I touched him in a handshake. Oh poor Alice tore herself. The doctor shook his head as he placed his diagnosis and branded the poor boy as useless and the only one to blame was Alice for not seeking aid; how could she make a young man such as Francis support both himself and his sister! But didn't they see she wanted only the best for him?
"It was Moi's pleasure, ma chère."
She settled herself, laying the book flat on her skirt.
"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland?" One pointed to her book.
"Yes, strange for a grown woman carrying such a book. Strange that I would have read it, period."
"Strange? No; it's nothing more than a classic. So magical and mystical."
Her eyes lit up in glee, "It most certainly takes you for a journey." She looked to One, "you've read it then?"
"Of course."
"My mother named me after Alice. She said that she would always look to me to lead her down rabbit holes and take her on fantastical journeys." She held the book back on her chest, "my mother met Lewis Carroll in London once."
"Had she?"
"She had. Well, she swears it. I was born by that time and my father had a brilliant idea of moving to London. Mother opened her tailor shop and she had heard a man stuttering. It is well known in London that Mr. Carroll stutters, you know. She was so nervous, but she dared to ask his name. He called himself Dodgson, Charles Dodgson. She was mighty disappointed that she discovered several weeks later Mr. Dodgson and Mr. Carroll were one in the same. Look at me, blabbering."
"No, no, please, continue."
She smiled wistfully, "that's all I have to say. I remember she would tell me that story and get so angry. 'I could have shown you to him! The real Alice!' Mother always made me laugh with that. Ack! Please cure me from this insufferable foot-in-mouth disease!"
One laughed. Oh she was so light-hearted, so charming in my presence. Kind, sweet Alice, it is so good to make you smile, to see your guard being let down while One's eyes pry you open.
"That afternoon, there was so much I wanted to speak with you about."
"Oh and how is that?"
"You're a magician?"
"I am."
"Why do you paint your face?"
"I am simply a performer; as an occupation and as a lifestyle."
She looked up to One with those big blue eyes and sighed wistfully, "how the stage seems so magical."
"Until you get on the stage and become one with it. You can never escape the theatrics."
"Life is nothing but a stage and the people: players." One let a smile creep on One's face; Shakespeare, she was under Shakespeare's spells that he casts on his Sonnets.
There was a moment of silence, both of us contemplating on the swollen river, pushing and trashing after a long winter. Nearly five months we have been separated. And, with the card burning in her hand, she tempted herself to see One. But, she couldn't bring herself to do it. One was just being plain wishful, being too forward. One went to see her instead. One had found her in Basse-Normandy, whisked away by a concerned cousin who took her and her seemingly dying brother in without another word. But it was clear to Alice that in her silence, her cousin was condemning her, just like all the other well-to-do professionals back in Paris. But she was far too tired to care and she suffered in silence, as all of the condemning tore her at her very threads. It was a familiar face that lit her to life again.
And it took her dear young flop of a brother to take it away again. He had ordered his pregnant cousin to take him outside to join his sister. Since the incident, he was told to never be alone or to walk and was confided in wheelchair. He must have trained himself to sense One's presence.
She got to her feet suddenly, "what are you doing here, Francis? You shouldn't be out."
"Why not? It's a beautiful day outside."He let his eyes drift off to One, his feelings confirmed, a smug smile reaching his lips.
"You took Eriqua, in her compromising state, to walk you out! I told you I would take you out later this afternoon."She grudgingly took the wheelchair out of her cousin's hands and watched as the burden was lifted off of the already burdened pregnant woman.
One took One's hat off and did a little bow for the young master. "Afternoon, Master Francis." He didn't find it amusing in the least but he acknowledged one's presence all the same, albeit grudgingly.
"What brings you to Basse-Normandy?" He asked through gritted teeth, not bothering to look at One but lost in the flow of the river.
"Moi's troupe is doing a show in Caen."
"You don't say?" Alice responded quite interested. She had never managed to see Caen.
"Hmm," was all Francis could muster. "I do believe it's later on in the day, Alice. Walk me."
"Why are you being so unreasonable?" She hissed as polite as she could.
"Oh why not, Alice? Moi is becoming restless. We should walk further into town; perhaps we would be lucky as to find something to bide the young master's temper?"
Francis let himself smile as sweetly as he could shoot poison in the form of words. Why hadn't he? He didn't know. But the Illusionist was a master at Francis' game and knew the rules better than he did, so he didn't bother saying a word. He knew he would only fluster his sister more and make himself look like an ass. "Delightful. Shall we move on then?"
Alice pushed the wheelchair forward and followed the gravel path onto the freshly raked gravel road. "You are such an agreeable man. If only my brother would show you gratitude as well."
Francis clearly lost so he just smiled at the jester that looked him in the face and gave him the strangest smile. There was something clearly wrong with this man. Francis was blind when it came to judging characters his sister would point out constantly, but he knew that this man was ill and wanting nothing but to spread his illness. But Alice seemed so enthralled by One's presence that he said nothing. He hadn't seen his sister so excited in such a long time and he hadn't the energy to turn One away or the energy to watch his sister suffer in loneliness in No Man's Land. Francis didn't care about anything else but his sister, her wellbeing and happiness that was quite difficult to gain. He never met a man whom had her interest in mind as well. So, then why was this Illusionist here, seeming to court his quickly aging sister. A show in Caen... bullshit! One was personally impressed by the man's reserve in such a situation.
Alice pulled up to a small park stationed by a pond. It was built by retired school teacher whom owned the land and implored his son to build a park. Children were gathered there, swinging each other on swings. Alice explained that she would walk there every afternoon to feed the ducks that waded in the pond while waiting for her cousin who was now sitting by the shade of a tree, alone. "Wait here."
Francis had hoped that he would be taken with her but he was left behind with One. He wasn't going to waste said opportunity. "I'm watching you, Illusionist."
"Moi wouldn't have it any other way, Monsieur Francis."
When One turned to look at Alice, One's sight was intercepted by the glances and innocent glares of children whose curiosity could not be bided. Alice returned with her little neglected niece whose hands ran furiously and cryptically.
"She asks if you can do a little show for the children." Alice decoded her hand signs for One. One couldn't help but oblige; two lovely young ladies asking One to do a show, what was One to do?
One sat the young maiden on One's lap. She was a little rabbit of a girl, meek and tiny. One's hands could nearly wrap themselves around her body twice. She looked at One with wonder in her eyes, fixated on One's lips. One pulled off One's hat and placed it on her head. It nearly swallowed her whole but stood on her head regardless as a rabbit wiggled its way out. Her mouth opened in surprise as she reached on her head for the rabbit. She looked to her cousin who smiled at told her to join the other children who bubbled with excitement.
"You really are amazing."
One looked up to find Alice just as marvelled as the children. She was smiling brightly. "You know, she's always on the outside looking in. Now look at her."
She little cousin was petting the docile rabbit with the children whom gathered around her to have their share. One child pointed to her hat and she promptly returned. She handed the hat to One in one hand and the rabbit in the other. One took it, bowing graciously. She looked to Alice, quickly making a hand movement, causing Alice to laugh and Francis to snort, "true! True!" Alice returned hand movement and pushed her to join the other children eagerly awaiting her return.
"What did she say?"
"She said, 'what's a Mad Hatter without his hat'?"
One placed the hat back on One's head, contemplating, "Mad Hatter? Alice's Mad Hatter. I think it's growing on me."
A/N: Uh-huh, that's right! Crappy un-beta-ness served to you by yers truly: Project H. Well, as always, R&R. I would really like to know if it's worth my time to complete this. I know you guys are just waiting for the yuri bit. I can tell you: it's a-comin'! But tell me if the relationship means anything. What hot lesbian sex without some good ol' fashion romancin', right? Yeah... Not gonna ask. Well, Project H. is out like a light blub, mothas! PEACE!