The day had started out like any other: Hatter awoke and set to work on several new hats, which he then delivered to the Hat Shop before heading to the Tea Room, where he greeted Alice with a kiss on the nose. The Tea Room was empty, although this came as little surprise as the place rarely got customers. This didn't ever seem to bother the pair of them, as it gave them more time to socialize and drink tea themselves. Alice had recently decided to start trusting the drink once again, an event which made Hatter happier than he had been in the almost two years since she had woken up. She had even started asking every so often if he would make her a cup, and today was just such a day. It wasn't until Hatter had jumped to his feet and started browsing the huge display for the perfect tea that he realized what day it was: Two years ago, he had lost his head.
The Queen had made rather a habit of taking everything that Hatter loved and destroying right before his eyes. It was being for all these reasons that he had tried to kill her at the time, her arm to forever be stained with his jagged mark until it rotted away in the dirt. This had been foolish. He realized later that killing her would not have solved anything, and it was not until her attack on his Happiness that he saw the ghosts would haunt him forever – The childish, innocent girl with the long, blond hair and the pretty blue dress, and the pale young man with the white gloves and the pocket watch. Alice was not the first person he had loved, and never would be the only one he loved so much.
Precisely when it began is difficult to determine, so Hatter always thought of the beginning as that first morning he walked home clothes in hand and hat on head. He was receiving many strange looks from the public of the island (as any entirely naked man covered in bite marks and scratches would) but no one reacted with such horror as his dear Babbity. “Madison!” he exclaimed, rushing to the man's side. Hatter had never fully understood why he insisted on calling him Madison, but so many people called him “Mad” on a more than frequent basis that he supposed it only made sense for it to be his name. This was at least the logic that White Rabbit had used when he first addressed him thus, though what the logic behind a name like Babbity was, he would never know, but he wasn't complaining. Though he had first been opposed to the name, there was something oddly charming about the way Madison said it, and as the days and weeks and months went past, he realized it just wouldn't have been the same had he ever decided to call him White.
“Oh, hello Babbity!” Hatter greeted him, straightening his hat. The sight of it would have brought the faintest smile to White's lips had the situation not been so serious.
“Madison, you're-- You're naked!” he spluttered. Hatter looked down at himself and let out a giggle.
“Yes, I suppose I am!”
“Madison. Put on your clothes.” White commanded. Hatter eyed him curiously, and the man shifted uncomfortably. There was a long pause in which Hatter didn't move, and White refused to make eye contact. “It's indecent.”
Hatter supposed he could have argued, but saw little point in it at this time, but perhaps he would see it in another instance. He took the opportunity to instead shrug and say, “If you insist, dear Babbity,” and drop his clothing onto the ground. He began sorting through the tangled pile to find his underwear, grinning up at the look on White's face. White was trying extremely hard now not to look at the stark naked man in front of him, but the pink tinge that was creeping across his cheeks told Hatter that he had sneaked a peak when Hatter hadn't been paying attention. Hatter didn't dare bring it up: He knew White would only ever deny it, and so he kept silent. It wasn't until Hatter had hopped into his pants that White bothered to speak again.
“What were you doing without your clothes, anyway?”
Hatter smirked as he pulled up his trousers and hooked his suspenders over his shoulders. “I've been to see the Tart Queen.” he answered, as he picked up his shirt and began turning the sleeves the right way out.
“The Queen?” White asked, furrowing his brow. “What has that got to do with anything?”
“She was going to hurt Miss Alice.” He said as he slipped the shirt on back to front. “She's locked her in the high hidey hole from under the rabbit's passage, you see. She was going to hurt her, so I convinced her to have sex instead. That's not right, is it?” He had been trying to do up the buttons behind his back, when he suddenly realized that wasn't at all the way it went.
“You WHAT?!” White looked positively horrified. Hatter couldn't figure out for the life of him why this was such an upsetting piece of information.
“I had sex with her. Could you give me a hand Babbity? I seem to be having some trouble...”
“Trouble,” White muttered angrily. Nevertheless, he stepped forward to help Hatter pull the shirt off his arms. “You're nothing but! Why on earth would you have done such a thing, Madison?”
“Well, it's Miss Alice's unbirthday you see.” Hatter said simply. “I couldn't let The Queen ruin it for her, even if she is the napping mood. Besides, haven't we all?”
“No!” he yelled, as the shirt finally came free. “No, we haven't!” He ripped Hatter's suspenders down with a surprising amount of force. Hatter looked utterly shocked, and a small grin began to creep across his lips.
“Are you jealous, Babbity?” Hatter asked suspiciously as he swung his shirt back on the right way around.
“No.” White answered far too quickly for his own good. His cheeks turned another shade of pink and he busied himself by buttoning Hatter's shirt for him. “What by the Wonders gave you that idea?”
“Are you jealous of me...” Hatter's voice was soft now as he took White's fumbling hands in his own. “Or of her?” One look in his eyes told him the answer. “You know Babbity,” he said in the same gentle tones as he stepped ever so slightly closer to him. “It was just sex. It didn't mean anything.”
“But--” Hatter's lips were on his before White had the chance to say anything more than that. It was shockingly tender, and Hatter was surprised at how quickly White reciprocated the action, letting go of Hatter's hands and bracing them against the back of his neck. It was probably the first and only instance where White ever lost track of time. When finally they broke apart, he had a difficult time finding anything to say other than, “The Queen wishes to see me. I'm afraid I'll be terribly late now.”
“Oh, I don't think she'll mind if you are just this once.” Hatter grinned, and White grinned back, pressing his lips much more firmly against the other's, for once in his life damning what people thought.
Weeks went by of short, frequent meetings between the two, and while it lasted, Hatter could think of little else. It was always the same: The pair would meet, have a cup of tea, snog (and as time went on, sex), then White would yelp about how late he was and run off. The pair were happy together, happier than they were with anyone else or doing anything else. It was the strangest sensation in the world to feel entirely happy with someone, and not want to murder them and ravish their body at the same time. Hatter never told White this – He was sure that his Babbity would be less than pleased to find he was still making his way to The Queen's bed, even if it was purely carnal.
The sun was just coming up now, and though Hatter was new-waked from sleep, it seemed that White had been conscious for some time. Hatter rolled over onto his side and rested his chin on White's shoulder, peering down at his face out of the corner of his eye. “Babbity?”
White took a large breath. He looked positively terrified. “Do you love me?” Hatter gave a small smile, and kissed him gently on the shoulder before turning head to rest his cheek against it.
The pair were silent for some time, Hatter reveling in the sweetness of the moment, White mustering up the courage to ask his next question. “But... You love Mary Ann too, don't you? I mean, you must, mustn't you?” White stared intently at Hatter, who in return gave him the strangest look. He considered the long hours he spent by the girl's side, his story of a magic kiss to wake her, and his desire to do anything to protect her.
“Yes, I suppose I do.”
White didn't look surprised, but he certainly seemed disappointed. Would it have been better if Hatter had lied? He supposed not. His dear Babbity would have found out the truth sooner or later. “Wh-- Who do you love more?” White asked. He gave Hatter an apologetic look. Hatter smirked.
“Who do you think?” It was a perfectly honest question, one that even Hatter wasn't sure he knew the answer to, but White seemed content with it, and he smiled and kissed Hatter as if he knew the answer, before suddenly realizing the time and jumping out of bed. They remained happy for many weeks following this, but the Happiness didn't last, a lesson Hatter would learn over and over in coming months.
“Oh, by the way,” The weeks had passed on, the endlessly hot summer turning into a brisk fall. Hatter was again in The Queen's chamber, wrapped only in a sheet and fiddling with his top hat as she pulled a gown over her head. “He left you this.” She picked up a plain wooden box from her dresser and threw it at Hatter. He caught it, giving her a curious look.
“The Rabbit.” She paid him not one bit of attention as she fixed her hair and smeared lipstick across her mouth.
“Babbity?” Hatter was observing the box now. “What on Jupiter for?”
“I don't know.” she said in a vague tone that suggested she wasn't at all interested in pursuing this topic much further. “He practically begged the cards have me give it to you just before his execution.”
Hatter froze. He was quite convinced that his heart had stopped beating for at least three seconds, and every inch of his skin tingled as if it had just been prodded with a million needles. His eyes snapped to The Queen, and once his heart began beating again, it pounded faster than it ever had. After nearly a minute of the horrified silence, Hatter managed to croak, “His what?”
“His execution. I had him beheaded this morning. He was two days slow, after all.” She didn't look back at him, which he supposed was lucky, for he very easily could have jumped at her and twisted her head around until he felt her neck crack if she had. She finished primping herself and straightened. “Bored now. Changing the subject. I'm off to croquet with Dodo. Do try to wake the weed.” And with that she swept from the chamber, leaving Hatter alone on the bed, the wooden box sitting in his lap. Precisely how long he remained there he could not be certain. After what seemed an age, Hatter looked down at the box, and with shaking hands flipped open the lid. In it were a pair of white gloves (which Hatter knew to have been White's finest pair), an old pocket watch, and a piece of paper folded in half. Written on the outside of the paper in small, cramped writing were the words Read Me. Hatter wiped his eyes, unable to blink back the tears, and opened it.
I do hope The Queen at least follows my last request and delivers this to you safely. In it, you will find my greatest possessions – A pair of gloves, the pocket watch I was given on my first arrival to the island, and a letter, this letter, describing my love for you. I loved you Madison, loved you more than the woodferns love the brickleseas, and I hope you never doubt that, just as I never doubted you loved me too. My time with you was far greater than anything I could have imagined, but I do hope (if not only her sake but for yours as well) that Mary Ann wakes up soon. You need her now, and I'm quite positive she'll need you too. My time left here grows short, and so I will try to be brief: First, get rid of The Queen. Swop of her head if you must, but don't let her win, and don't let her hurt you. She's already taking me away, I can't let her do the same to you. Please Madison, please end her reign. Second, and most importantly, love Mary Ann. I know you do, I've not forgotten. I can't let you be sad for me for too long. I need you to love her. I need you to be happy. Please Madison, can you do that for me?
I will miss you, and hope that one day (not too soon) I can see you again.
For many days after that Hatter remained shut up in his room, and most of them he does not remember.
Back in the Tea Room, Hatter pulled a jar of tea leaves from the shelf. He was oddly quiet as he boiled the water and brewed the tea, and was grateful that Alice didn't ask why. She had witnessed him in his depressed state far too often for his liking, but it did at least keep her from asking him what was wrong at the times when he really didn't feel like sharing. He sat her down at a table in the back corner of the shop, brought out a plate of biscuits for them to share, and poured the tea. He sat down across from her and gave her a smile, which she gladly returned. Alice took the steaming mug in her hands, and sipped lightly. “My, this is lovely!” she stated, smiling even brighter. “What do you call this one?”
“Babbitea.” he answered softly. She did not question the strange name, nor did she ever question the pair of old gloves she had found in his sock drawer, nor the time when she had picked up the pocket watch that sat on the mantle and he had all but yelled at her to not touch it and put it back at once. To her they were just a few, quirky tokens that made Hatter who he was – to him they were constant reminders of four glorious months, and the love he had been two days slow to save.
