Fic: And we will laugh at gilded butterflies... [alice/hatter, angst]
and we will laugh at gilded butterflies, alice/hatter, angst.
hatter never told her how long a wonderlander's lifespan was. she never really asked. but something in the back of her mind told her that it wasn't the same as hers. g, 814 words.
Hatter never told her how long a Wonderlander's lifespan was. She never really asked. But something in the back of her mind told her that it wasn't the same as hers.
And sometimes the way he acted, like how it would take so long for him to do anything, made her wonder if he thought he had all the time in the world. It was ten years until they were married, another five until the subject of kids came up.
"We have time," he always said.
And as the days and months and years went by, he never seemed to get any older. She would spot a grey hair or a wrinkle on herself, but he looked exactly the same as he did the first time they met.
"You look fine," he'd say. But she knew that she wasn't getting any younger.
She wanted to take him in her arms and kiss him and ask him if he had any idea that someday she wouldn't be there anymore. But she'd see him smiling and laughing and she'd decide to save the topic for another time.
When Alice was forty years old, her mother passed away. It was a day for tears and silence and cold food, and itchy black stockings and hand holding.
And when she looked over at her husband, and saw him through her tears, he looked numb. "Oysters die," she heard him mumbling. A small smile of sadness would come over her features as she hugged him and told him it would all be okay.
"Alice," he said that night, as they lay next to each other. "I don't want you to die."
She laughed a little and kissed his cheek. "I'm not dying, silly. Not for a while. Let's just think about the happy things."
"No," he protested. "I don't want you to die ever." His voice cracked, and as he turned his head to look over at her a tear spilled out over his cheek.
"Oh," she said, wanting to comfort him, but all she could think is that I don't want to die either.
"I can't help it," she said, stupidly, not knowing what else to say. "It's just kind of an 'oyster' thing."
"Maybe...maybe we could go to Wonderland. Maybe they could fix you," he said desperately.
She laughed again, her tone slightly sardonic. "But I'm not broken."
"Please don't leave, Alice," he said, more tears falling. "Don't leave me."
She hugged his head to her chest, her hands in his hair. "I won't ever leave you. Ever." Her heart sank as she knew she couldn't keep that promise. But she felt his wet tears against her chest and didn't say anything else on the matter.
After that he started doing things a little more quickly. He said he wanted to talk seriously about having children. She didn't have the heart to tell him that they didn't have much time left.
So the years passed and there weren't any children. And she got older and older and he stayed the same, forever young.
"How long do Wonderlanders live?" Alice asked one day.
Hatter froze and didn't say anything for a moment. "I don't know," he answered cautiously.
"Seriously, Hatter, how long do they live?"
"I don't know!"
Alice paused, holding her breath. "We have to talk about this sometime."
Hatter shook his head. "No we don't."
"Fine! Fine, one day I'll just drop dead and you can go on pretending that everything's okay when it's not!" Alice yelled.
The look on his face broke her heart.
"Maybe you could go back to Wonderland," she mumbled. "When I'm gone."
"I don't want to," he said softly. "I don't want to leave you."
She smiled at him. "What else are you going to do?"
"Alice, don't you care?" he asked. "That we won't be together anymore? Ever? Won't you miss me?"
"I don't think death works like that."
"You say I'm avoiding the topic but you don't seem to be at all broken up about the fact that one day you're just going to leave me alone! All alone, and I won't have you anymore and I don't want to go back to Wonderland! I don't want to go back to that bloody place, especially without you!"
"I'm scared!" she cried. "I'm scared about what will happen, and I'm scared that I will miss you and I'm sad, so sad that we won't be together always."
Nothing was said after that.
"You'll just have to let go," she said once to him. "Just let go."
"It's not fair," he replied, and held her hand. "I can't. Not like that."
"You have to," she told him. "Please, for me."
He nodded, but didn't say anything else.
"Don't follow me," she'd said. "Please, don't."
"But Alice." Tears, so many. Too many tears.
"Curiouser," she began, giving a small laugh. "And curiouser."
hatter never told her how long a wonderlander's lifespan was. she never really asked. but something in the back of her mind told her that it wasn't the same as hers. g, 814 words.
Hatter never told her how long a Wonderlander's lifespan was. She never really asked. But something in the back of her mind told her that it wasn't the same as hers.
And sometimes the way he acted, like how it would take so long for him to do anything, made her wonder if he thought he had all the time in the world. It was ten years until they were married, another five until the subject of kids came up.
"We have time," he always said.
And as the days and months and years went by, he never seemed to get any older. She would spot a grey hair or a wrinkle on herself, but he looked exactly the same as he did the first time they met.
"You look fine," he'd say. But she knew that she wasn't getting any younger.
She wanted to take him in her arms and kiss him and ask him if he had any idea that someday she wouldn't be there anymore. But she'd see him smiling and laughing and she'd decide to save the topic for another time.
When Alice was forty years old, her mother passed away. It was a day for tears and silence and cold food, and itchy black stockings and hand holding.
And when she looked over at her husband, and saw him through her tears, he looked numb. "Oysters die," she heard him mumbling. A small smile of sadness would come over her features as she hugged him and told him it would all be okay.
"Alice," he said that night, as they lay next to each other. "I don't want you to die."
She laughed a little and kissed his cheek. "I'm not dying, silly. Not for a while. Let's just think about the happy things."
"No," he protested. "I don't want you to die ever." His voice cracked, and as he turned his head to look over at her a tear spilled out over his cheek.
"Oh," she said, wanting to comfort him, but all she could think is that I don't want to die either.
"I can't help it," she said, stupidly, not knowing what else to say. "It's just kind of an 'oyster' thing."
"Maybe...maybe we could go to Wonderland. Maybe they could fix you," he said desperately.
She laughed again, her tone slightly sardonic. "But I'm not broken."
"Please don't leave, Alice," he said, more tears falling. "Don't leave me."
She hugged his head to her chest, her hands in his hair. "I won't ever leave you. Ever." Her heart sank as she knew she couldn't keep that promise. But she felt his wet tears against her chest and didn't say anything else on the matter.
After that he started doing things a little more quickly. He said he wanted to talk seriously about having children. She didn't have the heart to tell him that they didn't have much time left.
So the years passed and there weren't any children. And she got older and older and he stayed the same, forever young.
"How long do Wonderlanders live?" Alice asked one day.
Hatter froze and didn't say anything for a moment. "I don't know," he answered cautiously.
"Seriously, Hatter, how long do they live?"
"I don't know!"
Alice paused, holding her breath. "We have to talk about this sometime."
Hatter shook his head. "No we don't."
"Fine! Fine, one day I'll just drop dead and you can go on pretending that everything's okay when it's not!" Alice yelled.
The look on his face broke her heart.
"Maybe you could go back to Wonderland," she mumbled. "When I'm gone."
"I don't want to," he said softly. "I don't want to leave you."
She smiled at him. "What else are you going to do?"
"Alice, don't you care?" he asked. "That we won't be together anymore? Ever? Won't you miss me?"
"I don't think death works like that."
"You say I'm avoiding the topic but you don't seem to be at all broken up about the fact that one day you're just going to leave me alone! All alone, and I won't have you anymore and I don't want to go back to Wonderland! I don't want to go back to that bloody place, especially without you!"
"I'm scared!" she cried. "I'm scared about what will happen, and I'm scared that I will miss you and I'm sad, so sad that we won't be together always."
Nothing was said after that.
"You'll just have to let go," she said once to him. "Just let go."
"It's not fair," he replied, and held her hand. "I can't. Not like that."
"You have to," she told him. "Please, for me."
He nodded, but didn't say anything else.
"Don't follow me," she'd said. "Please, don't."
"But Alice." Tears, so many. Too many tears.
"Curiouser," she began, giving a small laugh. "And curiouser."