A Triangle Has Three Sides

Alice had wanted very much to struggle when she saw the manacles on the wall, but the men had guns, so she let them march her across the room and cuff her in. One of them leered unpleasantly at her, but they left without incident, which meant that she could have her breakdown in private.

She wasn’t very sure what was going to happen to her. All that she knew was that she’d been ‘given’ to an assassin with a cookie jar for a head, and then chained to wall. It was a fairly normal-looking room; Alice wasn’t sure if she found that comforting or creepy. The bed was pushed against the wall adjacent to the one she was chained to. It was round in shape, and unmade, the bedding folded neatly on the end that was furthest from her. There was a large wardrobe on the opposite end of room, and a table and chair set between them, set for tea.

Definitely creepy, Alice decided.

”I’m going to give her to March. Does that bother you?” the Queen asked.

Daddy didn’t even meet her eyes. “Why should it?”

Jack was going to be executed. She hadn’t seen Hatter since they were forced into separate boxes. Her father didn’t remember. And she-

The day couldn’t possibly have gone any worse if it tried. And then, as though hearing her thoughts, the day dusted itself off and took them as a dare.

The door opened, and Hatter was thrown to ground. The door slammed shut before he even had a chance to pick himself off the ground. One of his eyes had been blackened, and there was blood trickling down the side of his face from a wound the extended from his temple into his hairline.

“Yeah, you should run!” he yelled at them, retrieving his hat up from the floor and putting it back on his head. “Tossers.”

He levered himself to his feet and began to look around the room, freezing when he saw her.

“Alice,” he said striding towards her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Alice replied. “What about you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,’ Hatter studied the lock on the manacles. It took him a moment to notice the skeptical look she was sending him.

“What?” he asked, when he finally did.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she repeated. The chain attached to her hand clinked as she reached out to cup his face. It was too short, but he seemed to get the idea.

“It’s just cuts and bruises,” he assured her. “I’m fine, except for the part where they took my lock-picking gear away.”

“You had lock-picking gear with you?”

“Of course,” Hatter replied, sounding affronted. “You never know when you might need to pick some locks. Like right now, for instance.”

“I should still have some hairpins in,” Alice offered.

“That’ll work,” Hatter said brightly, and began feeling around her scalp.

Then the door swung inward, and March entered. Hatter froze. So did Alice.

“Aw,” he jeered. “You two lovebirds couldn’t wait to get started until I arrived?”

Hatter’s eyes narrowed, and he took on a calculating expression. There was the sound of a gun being cocked, and Alice peeked over his shoulder to see that March had taken one out.

“Come over here, Hatter.” March ordered.

Hatter untangled his fingers from her hair, and with visible reluctance, turned away from her and walked towards March. He stopped at the table, keeping it between himself and the assassin.

“Just so you know,” Hatter said, in a determined kind of voice, “I’m going to kill you, and I’m going to make it stick.”

“Wow,” March said, unimpressed. “Did you practice that speech?”

“No,” Hatter admitted. “If I had the slightest idea you could come back from that I’d have stowed the speeches and concentrated on killing you again.”

“Sit down,” March sneered.

Hatter pulled out a chair and sat. So did March, but he pulled his out at an angle, so that they were both in his sights.

“Why don’t you pour yourself some tea?” March suggested.

Hatter reached out his hand, and Alice heard the clink of china as he did exactly that.

“Drink it,” March ordered.

She could tell, even from behind, that he’d lifted the cup to his mouth, but March wasn’t satisfied. The bullet hit inches away from her face, and she screamed. The cup Hatter had been holding shattered and he stood up and spun around, knocking his chair to the ground as he did. Alice coughed as she inhaled powered bits of drywall.

“New cup,” March said pleasantly. “Move down.”

Hatter swallowed, and sat back down on the chair on the left side of the table.

“Drink the whole teacup this time,” March ordered, pouring tea from the pot into his cup until it sloshed over the brim.

Hatter drank. Alice watched his throat work as he did so, before she realized, with a sick feeling, that March was doing the same thing.

“There,” March said, flicking the safety of his gun back on and stuffing it inside his jacket pocket. “Was that so hard?”

Hatter didn’t reply, but just sat where he was, deathly pale and swaying slightly. From where Alice stood, she could see his sledgehammer hand balled into a fist. March stood and walked over to him. Hatter lunged for him, but something was wrong. March sidestepped him easily, and Hatter tripped over his own feet and went crashing to the floor.

“Hatter?” Alice called out, worried. March chuckled, and walked over to him.

“What the hell was in the tea?” Hatter demanded, pushing himself upright on shaky legs and backing away.

“You can’t tell?” March shot back.

“Clarity, Honesty, Lust, I got that much thanks,” Hatter retorted. Lust? Alice thought, the sick feeling increasing. “That doesn’t cause this.”

“It’s a new flavor,” March explained cheerfully, before jerked his head so that he was facing her. “One of your father’s best, I’d say.” Hatter nearly tripped over his own feet again as he continued to back away from the assassin, and March shifted his attention back to him. “We’re going to call it Lethargy. The tired, clumsy feeling you’re experiencing now is your will to run, fight, or even move at all being smothered to death.”

“Leave him alone,” Alice said, as it became impossible to ignore what March was planning. March laughed at her. Hatter reached out behind him, and grabbed onto a chair, leaning heavily against it. His face shined with sweat.

“And while you’re not moving,” March explained, advancing on him. “The Honesty will keep you from hiding your reactions from me, the Clarity will keep you from locking yourself away in your head, and the Lust will make sure that you know that deep down, you enjoy this.”

“Deep down I want to punch your face in again,” Hatter spat, his voice high and reedy. March came within striking distance again, and he lashed out. March dodged it easily, and retaliated with a blow of his own. It connected with his head wound, and Hatter went down hard, his hat flying off as he did so.

“Leave him alone!” Alice repeated. “Stay the fuck away from him, you sick bastard!”

March ignored her outright this time, crouching down and cupping Hatter’s neck with his hand. Hatter jerked away, scrambling sideways. Alice began to tug at her chains. They weren’t loose and wouldn’t give, but maybe if she kept at it that would change.

“Don’t,” Hatter barked out. “Don’t touch me.”

“Who said anything about touching?” March asked. He couldn’t smirk, obviously, but Alice could hear the sentiment in his voice.

Hatter laughed, a little hysterically. March pounced on him, straddling his hips and pinning his arms to his sides.

“No!” Alice shouted. “You son of a bitch!”

“Don’t,” Hatter pleaded. “Don’t- not again, I can’t, not again, please.”

Alice nearly threw up.

“Your mouth says no, but your body says yes,” March purred, shifting on top of him. Hatter groaned, low and miserable.

“Get off,” Hatter panted.

“That’s the plan,” March replied.

“Get off me.” Hatter twisted beneath him. March shifted his body once more, and tightened his hold until Hatter whimpered in pain.

“Do you remember that time I missed one of your knives? You nearly gutted me open,” March said.

“Stop,” Hatter begged hoarsely. “Stop, please.”

“Do you remember what it felt like, when I put my whole hand inside you?” March continued.

Hatter made a choked-off noise, his breath coming in short, hollow pants.

“You’re sick,” Alice spat, pulling herself as far forwards as the manacles would allow. She ignored the way they were rubbing on her wrists. “You’re a sick, twisted little-”

“Do you want me to teach Alice what that feels like?” March asked.

Hatter went limp. “Okay,” he said thickly. “Okay, I won’t fight. Just- just don’t- leave Alice alone. I’ll stop fighting. Promise.”

“You-you psychotic-” There weren’t words for what she thought of March, and just for a moment she was unspeakably angry at Hatter too. Because he’d only given in when she was threatened, she felt responsible for what was going to happen to him.

“About time,” March said, and got to his feet. With what seemed to be great effort, Hatter propped himself up on his elbows. March heaved an impatient sigh, and pulled him to his feet. He slung an arm around his shoulder, and Hatter flinched violently. He didn’t face her, but Alice could hear the way his breath hitched as March all but dragged him across the room. Alice swallowed back bile, and guilt swamped her. Hatter was always looking out for her, almost since the moment they’d met. Well, the minute she could, she’d do some looking after him for a change.