For a little while, Alex, Y/n and the Tweedles ran together, maneuvering through the vast forest.

As they did, they found themselves gradually dispersing from the dormouse. Their jog slowed into a light walk until they found themselves in front of an ancient-looking tree, its bark gnarled and twisted with age. Two signs were nailed to the tree’s trunk, each pointing in different directions.

One sign read 'Snud', pointing to their left, while the other read 'Queast', pointing to their right.

Strangely, the branches of the tree seemed to angle toward each direction, as though guiding them towards either choice. The twins exchanged confused glances, unsure of which path to take.

After a moment of contemplation, Tweedledum grabbed Alex’s hand, pulling him and Y/n towards the right. "This way, east to Queast," he urged.

Tweedledee, not to be outdone, grabbed Y/n’s hand, tugging in the opposite direction.

"No, south to Snud," he countered.

As they continued to bicker, pulling in opposite directions, a loud screech suddenly split the air.

The twins’ hands dropped as Y/n and Alex both spun around. Alex’s eyes widened in shock as a large bird soared towards them, wings spread wide and sharp talons gleaming. Before they could react, the bird snatched the twins from the ground, lifting them into the air and carrying them off.

"No," Y/n cried, her hand stretched out.

But she and Alex were left standing together, staring after the retreating figures of the Tweedles, their panicked voices carried away by the wind.

***

Hours passed since the twins had been taken by the bird and the two best friends continued walking, now alone in the long, dark forest.

The trees around them were tall but eerily bare, their branches twisted and devoid of leaves.

The air was thick with the sound of distant animals, the occasional screech or rustle reaching their ears, but they saw little movement in the dim light.

Despite the unsettling atmosphere, Alex kept his hand tightly clutching Y/n's. They walked side by side, knowing as long as they were together, they'd be all right. Still, uncertainty lingered in the air.

The absence of the others, Tweedledee, Tweedledum, the dormouse and the white rabbit, left them wondering what had become of them.

They feared the worst, especially after seeing the card guards snatch so many of the creatures.

But there was no time to dwell on that now; they had to keep moving forward. Y/n’s gaze fell to her arm, where the Bandersnatch’s claws had left a deep, angry scratch. The wound appeared to be still oozing blood, though it was slower now.

She winced, unable to ignore the pain, though she tried to hide it. Alex noticed her discomfort but said nothing, squeezing her hand in reassurance.

"It looks like you ran afoul of something with wicked claws," said a voice from behind them.

Startled, the two spun around.

Their eyes widened when they saw a figure materialise before them - an unsettling grin stretched wide across the face of the Cheshire Cat.

His soft-looking fur was grey, striped with green-ish blue and his large round eyes seemed to match, glowing eerily in the dim forest light.

"And we’re still dreaming. Brilliant," Alex muttered, half to himself, as he took in the peculiar sight.

The Cheshire Cat’s grin widened further. "What did that to you?" He asked Y/n, his voice laced with curiosity and his gaze flickered to her injury.

"Banner.. or Bander-"

"The Bandersnatch?"

The Cheshire Cat floated effortlessly to the other side of Y/n, his with just his floating head there.

Y/n nodded.

"Well, I’d better have a look," the Cheshire Cat told her, hovering just above her wounded arm.

Alex stepped in front of her. "What are you doing?"

The Cheshire Cat, undeterred, only smiled wider. "It needs to be purified by someone with evaporating skills, or it will fester and putrefy," he calmly explained, eyeing the injury with interest.

"There's really no need," Y/n stated, shaking her head. "I'll be fine, once we wake up."

The Cheshire Cat considered this for a moment, then nodded. "At least let me bind it for you."

His dripped with a strange kindness as he produced a small, tattered piece of cloth from nowhere and wrapped it gently around her injured arm.

Y/n glanced at the cloth, then back at Alex. She wasn't too sure about trusting this odd creature but she could tell that he meant no harm.

"Thank you," she replied quietly.

"What do you call yourselves?"

"Alex and Y/n," Alex informed the Cheshire Cat, gesturing to himself and his best friend.

The cat lit up with surprise. "The Alex and Y/n?"

"There’s been some debate about that," Alex recalled, glancing at Y/n, who gave a small smile.

"I never get involved in politics," the Cheshire Cat stated before disappearing and then reappearing behind them. "You’d best be on your way."

"What way? All we want to do is wake up from this dream," Alex pointed out, walking forward.

The Cheshire Cat’s smile widened again. "Fine. I’ll take you both to the Hare and the Hatter, but that’s the end of it," he responded, his tone slipping into something almost playful, before vanishing again.

For a moment, Alex and Y/n exchanged confused glances, expecting him to materialise once more.

Then, hearing his voice call to them from a few feet away, they turned around to see him lounging under a nearby tree, grinning. "Coming?"

Together, hand in hand, they jogged towards the feline, following wherever he might lead them.

***

Their journey didn’t last long before they began to hear the faint strains of music drifting through the trees. As they neared, they saw a long table covered in a crisp white tablecloth, cluttered with several mismatched teacups and teapots.

A few figures were seated around it - Y/n spotted the dormouse stretching and yawning as she climbed out of a teacup, while a twitchy March Hare sat across from her, eyes darting around.

At the head of the table, a man in a tall hat with wild red hair and a pale, almost white, face sat, his fingers tapping in rhythm to the music’s beat.

His gaze drifted up, a look of mild irritation on his face. But when he caught sight of Y/n and Alex, his eyes widened and a wide smile replaced his frown.

The March Hare sputtered, trying to speak but seemingly too shocked to find the words.

Ignoring the Hare’s stammering, the Hatter leaped up onto the table, balancing as he strode down its length, ignoring the dormouse’s indignant protests as he stepped over the various cups and plates.

When he reached the end of the table, he crouched down to eye level with Alex and Y/n, his expression joyful. "It’s you. Both of you," he said, gleefully.

Y/n couldn't help but smile back as Alex waved.

"No, it’s not," the Dormouse loudly insisted. "McTwisp brought us the wrong Alex and Y/n!"

"It’s the wrong Alex and Y/n," the March Hare declared, pulling his ears. He had a Scottish accent.

"It’s absolutely Alex and Y/n. You’re absolutely Alex and Y/n. I’d know you anywhere," the Mad Hatter firmly confirmed, as though there could be no question. "I’d know them anywhere."

He took their hands, raising them in the air as he continued striding down the table. "Well, as you can see, we’re still having tea. And it's all because I was obliged to kill time waiting for your return. You two are terribly late, you know. Naughty. Well, anyway, Time became quite offended that stopped altogether. Not a tick ever since."

He returned to his place at the table, stacking a pile of cushions on a chair and patting them invitingly.

Alex sat down, pulling Y/n beside him so they sat together, their legs touching as they looked up at the Hatter, who grinned down at them.

"Time can be funny in dreams," Y/n sighed, glancing around the whimsical setup with a smile.

The Hatter nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, of course! But now that you’re back, you see, and we need to get on to the Frabjous Day," he decided.

"Frabjous Day," the Dormouse and the Hare cried out in unison, raising their cups and giggling.

"I’m investigating things that begin with the letter 'M'," the Hatter continued. "Have either of you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?"

Then, his voice shifted, becoming more urgent, though his words tumbled out in a strange, jumbled manner. "Downal wyth Bluddy Behg Hid!"

Alec blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"Down with the Bloody Big Head," the Cheshire Cat clarified, reappearing just behind them. "The Bloody Big Head being the Red Queen."

"Come, come! We simply must commence with the slaying and such," the Hatter added, looking expectant. "Therefore, it is high time to forgive and forget, or forget and forgive. Whichever comes first or is, in any case, most convenient. I’m waiting."

He then pulled out a small, cracked pocket watch from his coat to inspect the time with a frown.

"All this talk of blood and slaying has put me off my tea," the Cheshire Cat commented.

The Hatter sighed dramatically, nodding as he poured himself another cup. "The entire world is falling to ruin and poor Cheshire’s off his tea."

The Cheshire Cat’s smile faded. "What happened that day was not my fault," he recalled.

Alex and Y/n watched as the Hatter inhaled sharply, his face growing unexpectedly serious. The lively spark in his eyes dimmed, shadowed by something darker as his smile faded into a tense line.

They both noticed the subtle, dangerous change in his gaze, an intensity that seemed out of place amidst the teacups and laughter.

"You ran out on them to save your own skin, you guddler’s scuttish pilgar-lickering, shukm-juggling sluking urpal," the Hatter began, his voice low but growing harsher. "BAR LOM MUCK EGG BRIMINI!!"

His voice echoed with hardly-contained rage, each strange insult carrying more weight than the last.

"Hatter," the Dormouse scolded, snapping him back to himself with a gentle but firm look.

The Hatter exhaled slowly, his face softening as he glanced down. "Thank you," he replied, as though he’d just awoken from a fevered dream. "I’m fine."

The Cheshire Cat observed him, a hint of disappointment in his ethereal eyes. "What’s wrong with you, Tarrant? You used to be the life of the party, the best Futterwacken in all of Witzend."

"Futter.. what?"

"Futterwacken," the March Hare told Y/n.

"It’s a dance," the dormouse clarified.

The Hatter smiled, his eyes drifting somewhere far away. "On the Frabjous Day, when the White Queen once again wears the crown, on that day, I shall Futterwacken.. vigorously," he declared.

As if on cue, the March Hare’s ears pricked up at the sound of distant hooves and a horse’s neigh.

Within moments, the entire table was a flurry of controlled panic as the Hare and the dormouse tried to look busy, haphazardly sipping their tea while the Cheshire Cat melted into the air, leaving only a wisp of a smile behind. "Goodbye."

The Hatter leaned down urgently, pressing two small bottles into Alex and Y/n’s hands.

"Drink this quickly," he whispered.

They each took a swig, feeling a tingling sensation as they began to shrink even smaller than they already were. Y/n’s dress billowed around her comically as her body dwindled, making her appear even tinier within all the folds of fabric.

The Hatter moved quickly, grabbing a large teapot, lifting Alex with one hand and Y/n with the other, carefully nudging her dress in with his fingers as he settled them inside before setting the lid on top.

As they huddled in the darkened teapot, Alex held Y/n’s hand, both of them peering out through a tiny spout to see a group of card guards and a tall figure in black armour dismounting from a horse.

The Knave of Hearts, Ilosovic Stayne, stood there, flanked by the guards and a bloodhound with its nose low to the ground, sniffing the dirt.

"Well, if it isn’t my favorite trio of lunatics," Stayne sneered to the Mad Hatter, Dormouse and Hare.

"Would you like to join us?" The Dormouse asked.

"You’re all late for tea," The March Hare scolded, tossing a teacup with a wild flourish.

It missed Stayne but hit one of the card guards, who grumbled whilst the dormouse giggled.

Stayne’s gaze hardened. "We’re looking for the girl and boy called Y/n and Alex," he explained, moving closer to the Hatter, his eyes narrowing.

The Hatter’s expression remained unfazed as he lifted a cup with ease. "Speaking of the Queen, here’s a little song we used to sing in her honour."

Without waiting, he, the Hare and the Dormouse began to launch into a slightly off-key version of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Bat, their voices rising.

Stayne leaned forward, cutting their song short as he wrapped his arm roughly around the Hatter’s neck, pulling him close. "If you’re hiding them, you’ll lose your heads," he threatened.

"Already lost them," the Hatter wheezed, amusing the Hare and the Dormouse. "All together now!"

Stayne released him and they resumed singing, though Bayard, the bloodhound, moved around the table, sniffing until he reached the teapot.

His nose stopped just inches from Alex and Y/n, his low growl vibrating through the teapot’s walls.

As Stayne’s gaze flickered to the dog, the Hatter whispered, "Downal wyth Bluddy Behg Hid!"

Bayard’s growl faded as he seemed to understand, glancing at the Hatter with a silent nod. Then he turned and began to sniff in the opposite direction.

"Follow the bloodhound." Stayne instructed, picking up a teacup. When the guards obliged, Stayne turned back to the table. "You're all mad."

"Thanks very much," the March Hare replied.

Stayne just smashed the teapot on the ground whilst the hare and the dormouse both giggled.

After a tense few moments, Stayne mounted his horse and eventually disappeared from sight.

Once he and the troops were safely gone, the Hatter placed the teapot back on the table, glancing inside with a concerned frown.

Y/n’s dress was still far too large, bunched around her in a heap. With a muttered "Pardon me," he grabbed a pair of scissors, snipped off a piece of her dress to resize it, then tossed it back inside.

Alex went to turn around but stopped when Hatter opened up the lid and reached in and grabbed him before placing the lid back on, both obviously knowing that the girl needed privacy to change.

A soft clinking sound signalled that she was finished and the Hatter opened the teapot lid to lift her out, placing her gently beside Alex.

She looked down at her perfectly-fitted dress in awe. "I like it," the Hatter told her, satisfied.

Y/n smiled back at him as Alex's eyes lingered on her. "Me too. It looks.. beautiful on you."

"Thanks," Y/n replied, blushing slightly.

The Dormouse smirked, drawing her thumb across her neck in a mock gesture. "Good thing that bloodhound is one of us, or you’d both be.."

Her smile vanishing in an instant, Y/n gulped and asked, "But why? What do they want with us?"

The March Hare leaned forward, looking thoughtful. "Wait a minute, best take them to the White Queen. They’ll be safe there. Spoon.."

With a knowing grin, the Hatter took off his large hat and set it on the table before them. "Your carriage, milady and good sir," he responded.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "The hat?"

"Of course," the Hatter said, nodding. "Anyone can go by horse or rail but the absolute best way to travel is by hat. Have I made a rhyme?"

The Hare and Dormouse burst into giggles. "Oh, I love travelling by hat," the Dormouse beamed.

"Mally, just Y/n and Alex, please," the Hatter replied, stopping her gently. "Fairfarren, all."

With care, he lifted Y/n and Alex, settling them onto the brim of his hat.  As they steadied themselves, he held the hat close, rising to his feet.

He then narrowly dodged a teacup that the Hare flung at him, a wry smile on his face as he strolled off with his precious passengers upon the hat.

***

The leaves, brittle and charred, fell lazily from the skeletal branches of broken trees.

Each step the Hatter took sent a crunch echoing through the eerie quiet of the forest floor. Nearly an hour had passed since they’d left the Dormouse and Hare behind at their whimsical tea party, but the atmosphere was far from cheery now.

The woods were unnervingly still.

Not a single bird called from the twisted branches, no crickets chirped in the sparse, dead grass.

Even the wind whispered softly, carrying a chill that sent shivers down Alex's spine and caused the fine hairs at the nape of his neck to prickle.

Y/n's long hair fluttered in the breeze, brushing against her face as she adjusted her position.

Perched atop the hat, Y/n’s footing faltered, and she found herself dangling precariously off the edge before dropping onto the Hatter’s shoulder.

Adjusting herself, she balanced there, her hand resting on his collar for support. Alex hesitated for a moment, then followed her lead, swinging down onto the Hatter’s opposite shoulder.

The Hatter’s voice broke the silence, low and thoughtful. "'Twas brillig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe. All mimsy were the borogoves and the mome raths outgrabe'."

Y/n tilted her head. "Sorry, what was that?"

"What was what?" Hatter questioned, turning to her despite not receiving a reply. "'The Jabberwock, with the eyes of flame, jaws that bite and claws that catch! Beware the Jabberwock, my son! And the frumious Bandersnatch! They took their Vorpal swords in hand. The Vorpal blade went snicker-snack! They left it dead, and with it's head, they went galumphing back.'"

Then he glanced between Y/n and Alex. "It's all about you two, you know," he informed them.

Alex's jaw tightened. "We're not slaying anything. We don't slay, so put it out of your mind."

The Hatter froze mid-step, his eyes going wide with surprise and alarm, and he murmured, "Mind."

Before either of them could question him, he reached up and plucked Y/n and Alex from his shoulders, setting them gently on a tree stump.

Straightening, he turned abruptly and proceeded to walk away, leaving them both behind.

"Wait," Y/n called, extending out her hand whilst her eyes widened. "You can't leave us here!"

The Hatter spun around, his orange hair wild as his gaze fixed on them. "You don't slay. Do either of you have any idea what the Red Queen has done? You don't slay," he mocked, bluntly.

"We couldn't if we wanted to," Alex stated.

"You two aren't the same as you were before. You were both much more muchier. You've both lost your muchness," the Hatter told him and Y/n, crouching down to their level. His eyes softened but there was a hint of