5Hatter remembered the night of the fire well. Alice had sat across from him, so innocent, so sweet, so lovely, laughing as they woke Dormy from his doze. (Terrible rude of him, sleeping through a party) They could only meet in her dreams now, the days of Wonderland contained in the whispers of pages and imprints of ink on long, thin fingers during the day only to return home when the moon stood proud in the sky. He had spewed off a riddle, delighting in her smile. It had been so lovely to see her again; she had been gone so long she almost missed the party! Naughty little thing. Then it had happened.
Hare had smelt it first.
His nose had twitched and he had jumped onto the table, sending a teapot flying. Dormouse had leapt awake, jolting in his seat. "Marchy!" Hatter had exclaimed, delighted and oh-so mad. "Naughty!" Then he had caught the smell too, burning, smoky, death.
Fire.
"Oh dear!" He shrieked as his mother's tablecloth caught on. Dream Alice had looked at him, frozen with horror as it trickled up her dress. Lunging forward, he began to beat it out, screaming, "Fire! You must save Alice!" He had loved her back then, you see, had loved her with everything a mad man could. She looked at him with begging eyes, expecting him to screech "Silly! Happy un-birthday! I must have forgotten the candles!" and his heart had twisted so hard he almost cried. But it wasn't the time, Alice, dear, sweet, lovely Alice must get out! So he shook her, tossed her away from the table like a burnt cookie as they were engulfed. "Wake up, Alice, wake up!"
And she had.
She had frozen and disappeared from the picture like a wisp of a candle. He had watched with relief as she had sped out of the room, calling for her parents. Then the flames had reached him, attacking his coattails with savage, scorching licks. He had screamed as the pages of his prison had burned, watched as his name and his life dissolved into ash, his best friend screaming for mercy, for it to be over. He had closed his eyes, feeling burning porcelain underneath his fingertips and smiled faintly. At least they could say he had gone out with a bang. "That's a good girl, Alice," He had whispered to the smoke, "Don't forget us now, won't you?"
And she hadn't.
She had locked them away in the furthest corners of her mind in hopes, but no, she had not forgotten. He had sat deep inside her brain, feeling the madness sink and swell like waves beneath his feet and waited for the day his newest prison would open and he could sit down at his table for a nice cup of tea. Hatter waited and waited, sometimes hearing the screams of other Wonderlanders through the echoes of her mind and knew there was something wrong. He had trusted Alice to keep the peace, sure it would only be a matter of time before she would walk through the mist and hug him like she had always done, smiling that sweet grin and asking him to make cookies for her party and perhaps teach her how to Futterwacken. It had never happened. Soon, in the dark, hated but not forgotten, he began to absorb Alice's memories, a sponge that was never wrung out and left to gather mold. He had twisted in the dark, spine snapping, bones cracking until he was apart of the madness, the hatred that engulfed them all.
When he was finally free he was bitter, angry and had agreed to the Red Queen's demands in exchange for a lab to work, where the light would never reach him again. He had wronged Alice, determined to destroy everything she loved. She had arrived in his laboratory, strong and sleek like a miniature sun and he had hated it. Hated that hatred reflected back, the snippets of a scared child that wanted an escape, who had found her paradise ablaze in her round cheeks and pleading eyes, begging him to listen, to understand. There had been madness to her eyes that made him want to giggle, that stirred a bit of the old Hatter deep within his burnt heart. Perhaps she had discovered the answer to his riddle? He had looked deep into her eyes and found fear as well, anger and it had died.
She left him again, burnt and broken, angry, insane and he had screeched and danced in his laboratory when she was gone, taking the light with her, feeling his heart beat like a hummingbird's wings in an attempt to straighten back into its original shape, to chase after Alice (his Alice) and offer the black, beating organ to her. "It won't due you much good," He would have told her, "But it's all I have. Perhaps you'll find a use for it."
Because she wasn't alone, no matter what that silly puss tried to put in her head.
He had saved her, the night of the fire, had summoned every bit of strength in his soul to scream through the dimensions to awaken her, to make sure his Alice had lived on. He had been hunched over a cup of Darjeeling tea, the moment it had happened, feeling the burn of his hands. It had become a familiar sensation and barely hurt anymore. Something had washed over him, a jolt of warm electricity. Hatter had dropped the cup and watched it splatter onto the floor, watched as the floor took color beneath the liquid. His mouth quirked into a smile, something he hadn't done in a long time. "Thatta girl, Alice." He had whispered. "That's a good girl."
He had stood with her at the gate, surrounded by his friends, his true friends, not the twisted version that had once been. He fingered the brim of his hat and stroked it, twisting it back slightly to better feel the sun. He basked slightly in its warmth, a pleased, utterly mad grin decorating his lips. "Alice," He had begun. She looked at him over his shoulder, madness glinting back, coupled with hope. For a second, he was back at his beloved tea table, bending over a small child to hand her a sweet and a cup of tea, chamomile, to help her dreams. (Fancy that! Tea for dreams in a dream! How silly!) His grin widened. "Did you ever discover the secret to my riddle? Why a raven is like a writing desk?"
Alice picked up her things. "No, my dear Hatter, I'm afraid I haven't." Her tone made his grin go crooked and his eyes cross in happiness.
"No problem, my dear, not a problem at all! After all, we have plenty of time! All the time in the world, in fact!"