A/N: So this is pretty much one-shot that exploded. I had no idea it was going to be so long! I started writing this a week or so ago when I just got back from watching the movie, but then I left it to collect computer-dust when I realized the whole "continue from the end" idea was pretty much beaten to death in AiW fanfiction. Then I got a random burst of creativity two days ago, and I couldn't stop writing until it was finished. And voila – the eight-paged one-shot was made!

If you read the whole thing, I commend you. You shall be rewarded with extreme Alice/Hatter fluff by the end, I promise you!

Please do review if you can get through the whole thing. Also, enjoy!

Since Alice was a young girl, she had been told that she would one day be married to a rich, handsome young man. Alice, quite unlike the woman in the rest of Victorian society, had never given the topic much thought before. When she was younger, she refused to take the hand of that snobbish bolderhead Hamish, and as she grew and became a successful businesswoman, she simply didn't have time to think on the matters of men. But now, on the edge of two worlds and two possible futures, Alice finally had to decide – where did her heart truly belong?

Alice had returned to Underland – or "Wonderland", as she still sometimes caught herself saying – many, many times over the past five years. How exactly she found her way back, she couldn't be sure. She simply always could. Sometimes it was through a wide door, a looking-glass, or a rabbit hole. Alice simply needed to wish herself back to Underland and she would find herself there, as if the magical properties of the Jabberwocky's blood had somehow been imbedded into her own. No matter where she was, the magical properties of Underland always found a way to lead her back home.

And that's what Underland truly was – her home. Don't misunderstand, she did love her family in London, but it was difficult to call that place her home when everyone there simply couldn't – or wouldn't – understand her. Her refusal to accept the Victorian woman's "natural" position in life appalled everyone in her community, even after her business endeavors had been so successful and provided expansive wealth to her entire family. Alice was upset (and a bit ashamed for their sakes as well) that her loved ones couldn't accept her as an independent woman, but Alice simply refused to be molded into someone she could never be. If her family wasn't to accept her, then how could she be expected to accept them?

When Alice first set off on her journey to China to rekindle and expand her father's business, she had partway hoped that by traveling to such an exotic and beautiful new land, she would someday find another "Wonderland" within her own expansive world. But it wasn't to be. Wherever she went, wherever she looked, she could never recapture that sense of belonging that Alice felt whenever she returned to Underland.

Because Alice knew that it wasn't just the place that made Underland her real home – it was its inhabitants. Her greatest companions all resided within that rabbit hole. They always had. Even back before she could remember, her enchanting friends were always an important part of who she was. Alice never had a friend in Upperland that could compare to her bizarre yet endearing troop of Underland friends; from the overly-anxious (yet lovable) white rabbit McTwisp, to the loyal and fearless (if sometimes hotheaded) dormouse Mallymkun, to the evaporating charismatic cat Chess. Even the childish and confusing twins Tweddledee and Tweedledum managed to find a way into her heart.

But there was one that Alice always looked forward to meeting the most every time she returned to Underland. He was always the last one she saw. After everyone else greeted her and nagged her with never-ending questions of Upperland, after Queen Mirana told everyone to give Alice some privacy and she was left alone, and after enough timed passed that she started to worry that perhaps that he had left or forgotten about her – that was when he would appear. Whether or not he enjoyed dangling Alice on a string by making her wait and worry (and despite his always being there with every returning visit, she always managed to fret just a bit) or simply wanted to be alone with her when welcomed her back for the first time, Alice never really found out. She never questioned him about it. Every time her blue eyes met his green ones, all of her previous worries quickly seeped from her mind. She could see all her own feelings of warmth and elation reflected in his glowing green eyes. Everything from his scorching red hair to his colorful attire seemed to stand on edge with delight as they took each other in for a brief joy-filled moment. But it wasn't long after that they were in each other's arms, caught in a loving embrace.

"See," Alice would say playfully, as she traced the rim of his grand old hat. "I told you I'd come bad. I always do."

And he always did as well. No matter how she worried, the Mad Hatter was always there when she arrived. Tarrant Hightop, the Mad Hatter.

Her Mad Hatter.

It didn't take long for Alice to accept that she loved him. The two of them had shared an unspeakable bond since Alice was just a little girl, but since her second return to Underland, and every return henceforth, their bond only grew stronger. Her most cherished moments in both Upperland and Underland were spent by his side, whether it be sharing tea at the Hare's windmill, or watching Tarrant at his work inside the White Castle, or simply walking together in the gardens. As Alice spent more and more time with him, she began to notice things about the Hatter she thought charming to her before, but were now overwhelmingly lovable: the way his eyes literally shined every time they connected with hers, his wide smile that always seemed to be plastered to his face, his loud and quirky laugh. The way he always gave her a lavish yet completely sincere bow when they would meet, and then offer his hand in a very gentlemen-like manner. The way he seemed to ramble and stutter a little bit more after every time she visited. The way he would tenderly kiss her hand before they said goodnight.

There would never be another man like Tarrant. He was unusual, uncanny, and odd. And that's why she loved him.

But she had never admitted her true feelings to him. And she was a bit ashamed for the reason why. It was due to more than just her childish shyness, and much as she wanted to convince herself it was. It was that, despite Tarrant being loyal, funny and loving – all Alice could ever hope for in a man – it didn't change the fact that he was…well…mad.

This had never really been much of a problem to Alice before. She knew that the Hatter was prone to nonsensical ramblings when he was nervous, and even extreme displays of rage, but Tarrant had never directed one of these outbursts towards Alice. She'd seen him go off at others at her defense, but he always tried his best to restrain himself when he was around her. For the first year or two, it seemed to work as well.

It was such a small thing that finally set him off. Alice and Tarrant had been taking tea together that day, delighting in each other's company. It was a beautiful day, the Hatter's tea was absolutely perfect (as usual), and Tarrant couldn't have been more content. Everything was going fine. Then Alice made a short comment on how things had improved since the days of the Red Queen. Tarrant froze. And Alice knew she had made a terrible mistake.

Alice watched the Hatter's green eyes turn a dirty shade of dark blue that was muddled with self-loathing. Then, in just the blink of an eye, they changed again to an alarmingly scorching color of bright orange. Alice knew these signs too well. Tarrant had never forgiven himself for not saving his family in time the day the Jabberwocky attacked, and even the slightest mention of anything to do with the Red Queen or the Jabberwocky sent the Hatter down a swirling pit of self-contempt and rage that he couldn't control. So he reacted the only way he knew how – he went completely mad.

Tarrant began to throw everything from silverware to china across the room, spitting out curses in the Outlandish accent that came out whenever he was in a rage. Alice looked on in dismay and yelled at the Hatter to calm down, but he didn't stop. Alice had only seen him like this once before, and that time he was chained in place, unable to move as quickly and ferociously as he was now. Still, Alice chased after the Hatter to get a hold of him and somehow calm him down. Alice was in the process of doing so when suddenly, the Hatter dropped stone still to the floor in complete silence.

He was on his knees, and Alice noticed that his eyes had dimmed from the burning orange, to the damp dark blue of shame he wore before. Alice kneeled down next to him, and noticed a gash on his forehead that was rapidly spilling blood down the Hatter's face. Frantic with worry, Alice quickly grabbed some cloth to press against his wound and wash the dripping blood away. He was no longer screaming in Outlandish, but muttering the words "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over again in the same thick brogue. Alice wrapped one arm around her dear Hatter comfortingly, and kept reassuring him that the outburst didn't matter, it wasn't intentional, and that making sure he was okay was all that Alice was concerned about. And that was the truth. Alice was too worried about the Hatter's well-being to condemn him for his outburst – she doubted she ever could. She knew the Hatter was mad, but he was the good kind of mad. Despite his anger and pain, Alice knew he had a heart of gold.

Hatter continued to mutter his apologies regardless, so when he suddenly went mute, Alice was concerned. "Tarrant?" she asked gently.

"Your hand." His voice was no more than a strained whisper, but managed to hold enough pain to fill an ocean. Alice only just then noticed the cut that ran down the length of her right arm. It only stung ever so slightly and was barely bleeding, but it wasn't a pretty sight to look at.

"Oh," said Alice blankly. She gently ran her finger over the lesion that was cut as straight and neatly as one of Tarrant's hatting fabrics. It was more interesting for Alice to look at then disturbing – the neatness of it all appealed to her in some strange way. "It's only a small cu-"

"I hurt you," whispered the Hatter, his voice wroth with agony. And it finally dawned on Alice what Tarrant meant in his anxious words; what he saw in that cut.

"No, Tarrant, you didn't mean to-" but Alice never got to finish. Tarrant ran out of the house, his forehead still bleeding, into the nearby woods in a complete frenzy. Alice took after him, her stomach twisted with dread. Hatter hadn't meant to hurt her, but Tarrant was not a man who was kind to himself when it came to his mistakes. Alice knew that Tarrant was his own worst enemy; the often gracious and forgiving man was the cruelest to himself. She was desperate to find him in case he got into another rage and somehow hurt himself, but she never did. At nightfall, she decided to return to Hatter's house and wait for his return.

Though Tarrant was back home the following morning, Alice saw very little of him in the days that followed. Whenever she asked if they could spend some time alone together, he would always give her some excuse before nervously slipping away. They didn't share a whole conversation for the rest of her trip. Alice felt absolutely terrible. She assumed the reason the Hatter was avoiding her was because she hurt his feelings with her remark about the Red Queen. It wasn't until the day that Alice left and Tarrant didn't show up to say goodbye that she aired her worries to her remaining friends.

"Oh Alice," said Mally, with a sad shake of her miniscule head. "You don't understand. Ever since that day, the poor fool has been avoiding you because he's deathly afraid of hurting you again."

Alice was struck dumb. Her loyal and loving Hatter, her dearest friend who would rather put his life on the line then to see Alice in pain or trouble (and had often done so in the past), worried about intentionally hurting her? Alice knew that a man with a heart like Tarrant's, even in his greatest fury, was not, and could never be, a bad man. It pained her to think that the overbearingly emotional Hatter was suffering under the false impression, but even when Alice was the most determined talk to him and set him straight, he would never stay long enough her to even get a word out. Her friends recommended that Alice leave and give Tarrant some time alone to settle down. With a sad sigh, the disheartened young woman had to agree.

When she returned from Upperland the time after, she found her friends were right in their judgment: his strange behavior had disappeared. He greeted her with his radiant green eyes and wide smile like before, and once again took her into a happy embrace. Neither of them mentioned the teatime incident again.

All should have been well. But Alice started to notice a significant change in the Hatter after a few days. Most of the time he was still his delightfully eccentric self, but there were moments when Tarrant's mood would suffer a subtle yet dramatic change. Unlike his fits of anger, these moods needed nothing to tip them off, and they seemed to appear and disappear all within a minute or two. If Alice hadn't known better, she would have thought she had imagined it. But watching his eyes change color from their usual bright green to a murky dark blue made Alice sure that what the Hatter was suffering was all too real.

He would say the strangest things to her when one of these moods hit him. He did not scream but muttered sorrowfully in Outlandish, looking at her with his bottomless blue eyes. "Every time ye return tae Underland ye get more an' more beautiful, an' I just get more an' more mad," he would say somberly, with a recognizable tint of sadness and shame in his eyes. Before Alice had the chance to say otherwise he would suddenly recover his formerly cheerful mood, as if nothing had happened. On the few occasions she asked him about it, he wouldn't respond, and simply tried to distract her with another subject.

But Alice wasn't fooled. With each returning trip, these moods became more and more frequent, and it didn't take her long to figure out why.

Tarrant was being torn apart, and it was all her fault.

Since re-discovering Underland, Alice thought she could somehow strike a balance between her two worlds - or maybe even find a way to bring them together. But this was a childish dream, a naïve dream. She was a child of two worlds – two worlds that were impossibly far apart and equally as impossible to bridge. Upperland didn't belong in Underland, and Underland couldn't belong in Upperland. Alice was the sole link between the two, and she had hoped that this would be enough to make her content. But as time passed the strain of living between two worlds became harder to bare, and not only for herself. With every goodbye, there was always that little parasite of an idea that she would never return that lingered in both Alice's and Tarrant's mind. For the Hatter, the hint of that devastating thought - of never seeing Alice again - would grow more powerful in his tarnished mind every time she left, until it was enough to consume him. It drove him completely mad. Not the madness she was accustomed too, nor the madness that sometimes overtook him in a rage. It was the madness of a torn heart.

And Alice knew. She knew that with her every goodbye Tarrant lost more and more of his sanity, and even more of his happiness. She couldn't do that to him anymore. After five years of lingering between her two worlds, Alice knew she could no longer wait. She had to make a choice.

The choice seemed obvious, but that didn't make it easy. That Underland was much more her home then Upperland was, Alice knew. But Upperland had been her world for so long, and she couldn't bring herself to toss it aside so easily. Perhaps it wasn't the most ideal world, but it had been her home for a very long time. She had made attachments and connections in Upperland that weren't all that easy to discard. What about her mother, her sister, her business? Could she leave them all behind?

But of Underland…could she bear to say goodbye to all her wonderful friends and never see them again? Could she desert that wonderful world she had come to love and treasure? Could she possibly – the very thought of it made her sick with sadness - abandon her Hatter forever?

Alice knew, whatever decision she made, it would be the final goodbye. There would be no more floating in-between worlds– she couldn't stand for her or her Hatter to be ripped in two anymore. But for someone, somewhere, it would soon be the last time she would ever see them…

"Alice? Lord Ascot is here to discuss some matters of business with you."

Alice snapped out of her long train of thought and smiled weakly at her sister Margaret, who stood in the doorway of her room. Alice sat on her large and lavish bed; she was at home in Upperland for a few weeks after returning from a rather long journey to the Midwest. Alice hadn't returned to Underland in quite some time – it was the longest she had been away since she rediscovered the rabbit hole five years ago. Alice had every intention of returning to Underland; what she had to decide was if she was going there to stay or going to say goodbye.

"Yes, Margaret, I'll be right down," said Alice, standing up and straightening out her long blue dress. She met her long-time business partner and friend Lord Ascot in the study. As she opened the door, Lord Ascot turned from the window where he was standing and smiled at her. "Very good, Alice, you're here," said Ascot in his hearty voice. "It's a pleasure to see you again, as always."

"And you as well," said Alice, trying her best to give him at least a partway-bright smile.

"Please, sit down, we have much to discuss," said Lord Ascot, sitting at the desk where scattered maps and documents lay. "Now, Miss Kingsleigh, we have to decide where our caravan is going to route next…"

Alice remained standing as Lord Ascot babbled on. She remembered a time when being a businesswoman and talking ventures with Ascot had been a thrill. She had the entire world to discover, a place with promises of magic and adventure. But lately Alice seemed to lose interest. After years of traveling she felt like she knew this world front and back. Though she discovered many delightfully new things on her journey, Alice began to realize that some things always remained the same in Upperland, no matter how far you traveled.

But Underland had one thing that could never be found in this world. If you searched from London to Hong Kong you would turn up empty-handed. And it was the one thing, Alice suddenly realized, that she ever really needed.

A Mad Hatter. Her Mad Hatter. Because with him, Alice had one thing that she would never be able to find or replace in the whole of Upperland: love.

"I leave it to you, Lord Ascot."

Ascot looked up from his documents with a curious look on his face. "You what?"

"The business. I cannot help run it anymore. So I leave it to you."

Slowly, Ascot's expression transformed from one of puzzlement to shock. "Alice, you cannot be serious?" he said, completely flabbergasted.

"Lord Ascot, you have done so much for me these past five years," said Alice graciously, "My father's business simply wouldn't have survived without your support. I trust you to honor my father name, as well as my own, as you continue to run our business with the same integrity and intelligence as you always have." Alice curtsied, and she could feel the first real smile she'd felt in a long time creeping across her features. "Thank you, sir."

Alice quickly scurried out of the study to run right into her sister Margaret. "Alice, what on earth?..."

Alice kissed her sister on the cheeks, and took her into a great embrace. "I love you Margaret. Thank you for being such a wonderful sister. I'm going to miss you."

Margaret could only stand dumbstruck for a moment before registering her sister's words. "Alice…where are you going?"

"Indeed, where are you going? You left Lord Ascot sitting like a corpse in the study," said her mother with a scolding voice Alice knew so well. This time, however, Alice didn't care about the harshness in her mother's voice. Without hesitation, she embraced Mrs. Kingsleigh as she did her sister and kissed her on the forehead.

"I'm going where I belong, mother. I will miss you terribly, but I have to go," said Alice truthfully, not bothering to hide behind any excuses she could possible conjure up to fool her family.

Her mother's eyes were clouded with confusion and worry at first, but Alice was surprised when they faded and were replaced with a look of understanding only a mother could have. "My dear girl," said Mrs. Kingsleigh softly, "Have you found somebody?"

Now it was Alice's turn to be shocked. She had expected a never-ending line of questions and rebuts trying to convince her not to leave. How had she…?

"I'm your mother Alice," said Mrs. Kingleigh, reading her mind. She took her daughter's hands and smiled affectionately. Alice, overcome with emotion, couldn't say anything. She could only nod while trying to keep a tear from rolling down her face.

Her mother leaned in towards her, and whispered in her ear: "Then go."

No explanations from either of them were voiced. All they needed to know were in their eyes, and in their undying love for one another. Alice threw her arms around her mother, and said her final goodbye. "I love you, mother."

When Alice returned to Underland, Hatter was nowhere to be found. She asked all of her friends at the White Castle, but none of them knew where he was. The White Queen and Mally were particularly worried (for slightly different reasons). He had been missing for weeks according to them.

So Alice began her search. She looked everywhere she imagined he could be; the windmill, the palace, the teahouse. She was avoiding going into the forest – the thought of running into some unfriendly creature or getting terribly lost usually kept her from it – but she soon had no other choice. She had exhausted all the other options. And she wasn't going to give up after coming back specifically to see him. So Alice took a deep breath, dug a little deeper to remind herself of her "muchness", and ventured forward.

It didn't take long. She heard him long before she saw him. His Outlandish accent rang out through the twisted trees, and many of the flowers complained about the ruckus. Alice ran faster and faster towards the voice, her heart pounding. She pushed past bushes and branches (some of which weren't very pleased for her doing so) until she reached a clearing in the forest. His mess of red hair was instantly recognizable.

"Hatter?"

Tarrant turned around and faced her. But this time, there was no spark in his eye, no smile, no warm embrace. He just started at her expressionlessly. Suddenly, his murky blue eyes blazed red with emotion. He snapped his head away and looked dead straight to the ground when he spoke. "Get ye gone."

This was not the welcome she was expecting. "Excuse me?" Alice said incredulously.

"Ye heard me: get ye gone! Go, get off tae yer wonderful Upperland, tae yer un-maddenin' world an' ye perfectly sane men, tae yer bonny lasses and the lot of yer handsome youn' fellas. Get ye now. It'll be easier that way. Not like now, when ye come an' ye go, an' I know you say you'll be back but nae, someday you won't. Be merciful lass, go, go back –"

She stopped his lips with her own. She could feel his body tense, then slowly begin to relax and melt under her kiss. She reached up and gently began to thread her hands through his soft red hair. Unable to resist, Tarrant cautiously, yet lovingly, ran his bandaged, calloused fingers through her golden locks. It felt so lovely. It felt so right. After a few seconds, they slowly (as if reluctantly) broke apart. Those were the most blissfully perfect seconds either of them had ever experienced, and it showed in the blush of their cheeks.

"Alice…" Tarrant could only whisper, all traces of his Outlandish accent gone. Alice's hands slipped down from his hair to cup his face, as she did for the first time all those years ago. She stared into his beautiful green eyes, his face only an inch away from hers, and whispered to him tenderly.

"I do not want a perfectly handsome, perfectly sane man Tarrant. I want you."

A pause- a perfectly joy-filled pause - then Hatter shook his head, as if trying to force himself awake from a dream. "This is impossible."

With her eyebrows raised mischievously and a sly grin on her face, Alice simply replied, "Only if you believe it is."

Tarrant stared in disbelief. "Does this mean…" he started, hardly daring to hope, "That you're staying?"

"For always and ever," she said sincerely. For the first time that night, Tarrant smiled his wonderful wide smile. Alice smiled back at him (oh, how good it felt to look into those florescent green eyes again) and spoke the words she had wanted to say for so long.

"I love you, Tarrant."

His eyes literally beamed brighter than any of the stars above their heads. "Oh Alice…" was still the only thing the Hatter managed to say, but this time his voice was dripping with warmth and delight. He leaned in towards her, wanting to relive that magically unbelievable moment…but then he jerked away. His eyes were now a darker shade of green, tinted with worry.

"But Alice…Alice, I'm mad," said Tarrant sullenly, as if his madness was some sort of contagious curse. "How can you love…a madman?"

Alice put her soft hand into Hatters roughly bandaged one (she had always liked the feel of that), and pulled him in closer again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, gently rested her forehead on his, and gazed at him with a twinkle in her eye.

"It's a mad world Tarrant," said Alice with a grin. "All the better to have some of its madness on my side."

This time Alice's words were met with no protest. Her stomach fluttered with ecstasy when their lips touched and melded as one once again. But she felt more than just the intense joys of love in that moment. She felt peace. For the first time in a long time, Alice felt like she was where she belonged. And she knew she had made the right choice.

I've finally come home.