So, after thirty years, I've finally written an AIW fanfic. Without going into a long story, this has been extremely cathartic for me to write. It's a little dark and a lot angsty, with a generous portion of love and the playfulness the show embodied. I've also tried to keep it roughly in canon, without deviating too much from what the show established, but if any small details are different I didn't nitpick. I wrote under the assumption that many things from the "real" world also exist in Wonderland, like cities, shops, schools, universities, etc. I was inspired by the fact that we see and hear a lot about Hare's mother/family, but we don't really get much about Hatter's immediate family except for one phone call where his mother essentially interrogates him.

I'm also going to include a TW/CW for discussion of mental health struggles. Finally, I'm including a TW/CW for adult content. It's not graphic or smut for the sake of smut. It's just the story I wanted to tell. If you don't care for that type of content for this show, please skip this story.

The lyrics at the beginning of each chapter are from songs on the mix tapes I made from 1992-1994.

All chapters are complete.

Think about it, there must be higher love
Down in the heart or hidden in the stars above
Without it, life is wasted time
Look inside your heart, I'll look inside mine

Things look so bad everywhere
In this whole world, what is fair?
We walk blind and we try to see
Falling behind in what could be

Bring me a higher love
Bring me a higher love
Bring me a higher love
Where's that higher love
I keep thinking of?

"Higher Love", Steve Winwood

He still took Hare's breath.

Even after all these years, the sight of him could suck the words right out, as if he'd been sucker punched.

Now, he was splayed over Hare's bed on his stomach, all long limbs and smooth skin. He was tangled in the brightly colored sheets, almost too tall for the mattress. His strawberry blonde hair was an unruly mop falling onto his face, his expressive features unusually still in sleep. Hare wanted to reach out, to touch. To run his hand over the curves and angles, but he didn't want to wake him.

Hare couldn't bear to break the spell.

He leaned over, just close enough, and breathed in the scent of cookies and strawberry shampoo and peppermint tea. Having an acute sense of smell was part and parcel of being, well, a Hare. To him, everyone in Wonderland had a unique scent, but only Hatter's sent his stomach rolling and fluttering.

The man in his bed was well and truly mad. But in the best of ways. He was mad the way a carnival ride leaves you dizzy and elated and wanting to go just one more time. Being with him was like Hare's first trip to the circus as a leveret—a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds and possibilities. Hatter made him feel alive in a way no one else could.

He made Hare braver, stronger. Sillier. Filled his life with color and chaos.

Hare smiled, dimples showing.

His mind flashed back.

Hare grew up in Wonderland. His family's burrow was nestled amongst the trees at the edge of the township, just within sight of the Great Forest that separated Wonderland from her closest neighbors. He loved living here and couldn't imagine any other place ever being as beautiful.

Being the youngest of five, and his mother's only son, meant Hare was doted on, often got away with more than he should, and spent more time playing with dolls and dress up clothes than other boys he knew. But Hare didn't really mind. He loved his sisters and his cousins and felt he looked downright adorable in a dress.

However, he didn't love the bullying it earned him in school, and he could happily go the rest of his life without taking another pie to the face. He assumed all that would end when he grew up. Hare assumed he would find a mate, dig his own burrow, and have a bunch of adorable little freckled, brown-eyed leverets of his own.

Unfortunately, being the kid who constantly had pie on his face did not provide many opportunities for Hare to explore his more carnal desires in school. He was smart and creative, but shy. His best friend, Wilma, who was a beautiful fox-human hybrid with long hair the color of ripe pumpkins, kissed him once before heading off to the big city to be an actor, and it taught Hare one thing—he wasn't a fan of kissing girls. He wasn't sure exactly what that meant, yet, but it felt significant.

Then he went to university.

His father insisted he go, wanting his only son to leave Wonderland and make a life in the City, but the experience only confirmed that Hare was not made for city life. He despised business attire and being inside all day. He wanted to spend his days in the sun, or the rain. Any weather, really. He wanted to smell the grass and the trees and grow things from the soil. He wanted to know where his food came from and buy the things he needed from people whose names he knew.

University also officially dashed his mother's dreams that he would meet and marry a "nice girl."

Hare's classes were filled with boys, human and animal hybrids alike, that made his heart race and his palms sweaty. He kissed a few. He fantasized about a lot of them. He fumbled around in the dark with a couple. And he accepted the fact that having little ones would not be his reality. At least, not in the conventional way. Hare made his peace with it and graduated with honors. He moved back to Wonderland and dug his own burrow beneath a beautiful sycamore tree. He decorated the inside in bright, but tasteful, colors and planted a huge garden outside.

He made new friends.

But it wasn't until he'd been back almost a year that he finally understood clearly what he wanted. Who he wanted.

Hatter arrived in Wonderland in the spring. His arrival created quite a stir, as he built a bright yellow house shaped like a hat on a lovely plot of land that had been vacant for decades. Hare took a detour from his usual route several times during construction to watch its progress. One of those days, he finally got a glimpse at the owner.

Hare would never forget that day.

As he walked by, carrying a basket laden with jars of fruits and vegetables left over from his winter stock, a person emerged from the almost-finished house. They wore coveralls in a most impractical shade of purple and had an equally gaudy purple handkerchief tied around their head. Their strawberry-kissed blonde locks brushed their shoulders and their features somehow managed to be both strong and soft at the same time, like they were sculpted rather than birthed. They were tall and slender, and moved with chaotic purpose. For a moment, Hare wasn't entirely sure of the gender of the person he was staring at, in part because they were definitely wearing lipstick. And pulling it off.

Finally, they spoke, "Hello!"

Hare, afraid to be caught staring, waved and kept walking.

Once the hat house was complete, Hare found himself, and everyone else he knew, invited to afternoon tea. It was then that he finally learned Wonderland's newest resident preferred to be called "Hatter" and that "he" was the right pronoun. Hare listened raptly as Hatter described to his guests falling in love with Wonderland and deciding to hang his hat, or rather "build his hat" here.

He dressed audaciously, even for Wonderland's standards, in tailcoats and trousers in various shades of purple. His clothes were always impeccable for tea, from his crisp, white shirts to gold embroidered vests and a pocket watch Hare suspected was worth more than a few Wobucks. He also accented his striking features with makeup. Not a lot, but just enough. It was something Hare had seen on men in the City, but never in Wonderland.

Most importantly, Hatter's top hat was always in place. Somehow, he managed to maintain this genteel appearance in spite of his rather frequent tendency to send dishes crashing to the ground by sliding over his long tea table instead of going around. It seemed to be rooted in his uncontainable excitement rather than any real carelessness.

Hare was inexplicably drawn to this whirlwind of a person who appeared to have lived a very different life than a humble March Hare. He danced and threw dishes around like rules were made for him to break. He was flamboyant and bright and his eyes were a blue Hare didn't know was possible in humans. Or Hares. Or any creature, really. Hatter pulled Hare into his orbit the day they met. And like a star claiming a planet, he never let go.

Hare came to tea four more times before he got up the courage to actually talk to Hatter. In high school, a boy who looked like him would've flounced past without a glance while basking in the attention of guys and girls alike. This beautiful man made his stomach flutter and his tongue get all twisted. But Hare finally summoned the courage to speak.

It was surprisingly easy to talk to him. Their first conversation turned to gardening. Herbs, specifically. And Hare explained how to coax basil and rosemary from the soil. How to pick and store them. Hatter listened for over an hour, asking questions and occasionally running into the hat house for cookbooks or drawings. He was so enthusiastic and expressive Hare wondered several times if the tall, fair man was making fun of him. He couldn't, however, detect any malice, and Hatter's expressive face made him feel like he was the only other person in the world.

By the end of the night, all the other guests had gone and the two of them were making plans for an invention that would let them grow twice as many plants in a season. They were also covered in egg whites from a contest to see who could make the best meringue.

He also learned a little about Hatter's childhood.

Hare's mother still had his report cards proudly hung on the wall, all his A's in neat rows. HIs chess club trophies sat on one of her shelves along with his hall monitor badges. Hatter, however, measured his school years in style choices, musicals, and show choir performances. He misplaced his diploma the day he got it and hadn't seen it since. Instead, on his wall was a framed photo of him and his best friend Elliot with the phrase, "best dressed" scrawled across it. Hare also learned Hatter attended an arts college of some kind. How long he attended or whether he graduated remained unanswered questions.

Still, Hatter and Hare became as synonymous as the Queen and her roses. They worked together and played together. They planned and built all kinds of contraptions together. For all his chaos, Hatter made a decent living repurposing the junk he collected. And designing hats, of course. They spent hours in Hatter's attic, and Hare marveled over his collections and sketchbooks full of ideas. To him, Hatter was brilliant. What others saw as madness, Hare saw as uncontained genius. Unbridled passion he could not hold back. He loved the fact that if Hatter wanted to dance and the only available stage was a table, then he danced on the table.

The longer they spent together, the more they affected each other.

Hatter pulled Hare out of his shell, helped him shuck some of the shyness and fear of being bullied. Encouraged his talents. Helped him pick out a multicolored new coat and pants, something Hare wouldn't have had the courage to wear before. Hatter helped him come up with ways to expand his garden and sell the produce at the weekly market. By himself, Hare could be quiet and introspective, but with Hatter he was part of a lively duo who would literally sing the praises of radishes if that's what it took to sell them.

Hare grounded Hatter, helped him focus, and Hatter gave Hare courage to try new things. Like magic. And fondue. And hats. And even dresses again:

"Hold still! I'm gonna poke you in the eye!"

"You're the one who insisted on makeup!"

"We cannot model the Queen's new fashion line without hair and makeup!"

"Hatter, and this may sound a bit heteronormative, but we are boys!"

Hatter gave Hare an incredulous look. "No. We are men! And real men help their queen by modeling traditionally women's clothing in full hair and makeup so her fashion show is a smashing success!"

Hare gave in and let his friend line his eyes with black kohl.

He rather liked the look.

Later, Hatter stepped on stage in a red satin ball gown and a matching top hat and Hare knew he was done for. He went straight past "crush" and "pining" and "torch carrying" and on to something that gave him a constant pang every time he saw his friend.

They celebrated the first anniversary of their friendship with a tea party that lasted well into the evening. That became a tradition they repeated every year for the last four years. As far as the residents of Wonderland were concerned, Hatter and Hare were like salt and pepper. Or cheese and crackers. Or Rabbit and his skates. It was odd to find one without the other.

And Hare was quite happy.

Except.

At night, alone in his burrow beneath the sycamore tree, he often dreamed of kissing his beautiful friend. Of snuggling into his long arms. He dreamt of soft skin and fair hair splayed over his pillow.

He wrote the dreams down to remember them.

And he longed for the courage to make them real.