He's Having My Baby
They were running towards each other on a private beach, their silhouettes swift and vibrant across the sand. Hatter felt his heart pound as the distance grew smaller, when he felt his sparkling incandescent lover in a technicolor suit wrap his arms around him. The fuzzy warmth over his shoulder... the weight in his hands, the two perfect front teeth making for one unorthodox but passionate kiss. "OhhhGoddd," he said aloud. He proceeded to slide himself around over his mattress and caress his sides, knowing all the while that he was waking up from his dream. The scene dissolved in seconds. A silent black world was now his only reality as his eyes slipped open and closed. At this point, he stretched a little, his slender ungloved fingers landing on his stomach, where they froze. He scrunched his brow and looked down.
What the fuck was this.
What was this fuckery?
Immediately he sprung up in bed. His hands continued to swish over the same beach ball-like protrusion that was not last night but somehow there this morning. He slid off the bed and yanked a string, thrusting the curtains open, and a sunny Wonderland day flushed onto his carpet, but his shadow was so startling he gaped at it."What in the world?" The moment the words passed his lips he paused, noticing an out-of-the-ordinary swirl in his stomach. Before he knew it, he was hurrying for the bathroom and tossing his cookies. When it was safe, he took a moment to lean over the toilet bowl. 'That...that's strange... I don't recall eating anything weird...'
Within minutes his faithful companion, the Hare, was at the door frame of his bathroom. "Hare, how did you get in?" Hatter asked somewhat perfunctorily. He knew he had given Hare an extra key, but his persistent vomiting seemed to interfere with what logic he possessed. Before Hare could answer, he caught sight of Hatter's distended stomach.
"My Goodness! Did your grandmother send more cookies?" Hatter scoffed as if that was a completely preposterous accusation.
"No! What makes you say that?!"
Hare tented his fingers, thinking how he was going to backpedal out of this one. "It's just...your stomach is...You look different."
"Of course I look different! I'm hovering over the toilet puking my brains out!" The Hatter yelled, irritated by his friend's idiocy.
"No! Well, I mean, yes, you are, but when I say different I mean..." Hare resorted to miming a fat stomach with his gloved hands.
Hatter frowned. "Oh my God! What if I have some deadly disease?!"
Hare's nose twitched. "I'm sure it's not that. You've probably...overindulged, is all."
"I'll have you know that I haven't eaten more than six crumpets this week!" Hatter responded indignantly. As soon as he uttered that sentence he was once again worshiping the porcelain god.
Hare looked down at the ground groping for the right thing to say. "Hatter, have you been...the drink?" he asked awkwardly.
"I don't have a drinking problem! That's ridiculous!"
Hare had shrunk into himself just a little bit more each time Hatter shouted back to him. At this point, he was in the corner of the room with his arms crossed. "...I was just asking. I-I'm sorry." Hatter felt a tinge of guilt for being so pissy, even if he had a reason. He took a deep breath and grabbed some toilet paper to blot his mouth, and the bathroom was silent for a long moment. He swallowed sourly and stood up to use the sink.
"Really though... what're you doing here so early?..." He asked, reaching for some toothpaste.
Hares eyes averted to the wall. "Well... it's just... you said we should make a day out of planting some new stuff in my garden. I thought I'd surprise you and... make breakfast?" He bit his lip. Hatter brushed vigorously and thought about it... then spit.
"That's very nice of you..." He said in a semi-sweet tone. "But as you can see, I'm probably going to die soon."
"But Hatter!" Hare walked on up with his arms out. "That's not true! M-maybe we should take you to the doctor. It could just be a regular ole stomach ailment."
"Geez, and I thought you'd be more worried about this than I am."
"Come on, let's go to the tea table and I'll take your temperature. A-a-and I want you to drink something. Then we can go to the Wonderland Hospital." Hare reached for his hand and lead Hatter down stairs. He was vaguely grinning because he kind of liked the treatment.
Moments later, a wacky-looking thermometer was sticking out of Hatter's pursed lips, and Hare was nearby looking at his watch. "Just a couple more minutes."
"Thanks Hare, you're a real pal," Hatter managed to get out without screwing around with the thermometer. They sort of smiled at each other.
Out of seemingly nowhere came young Alice. "Hi guys!" she chirped. They acknowledged her. She frowned when she noticed the thermometer. "Gee Mr. Hatter, what's wrong?"
"He has a bit of a tummy ache," Hare answered, conveniently leaving out a few details to preserve Hatter's dignity. As she approached, Hatter's protruding belly came into view.
"Oh no...Granny Hatter's cookies?" Hatter drew in his lips in annoyance.
Hare sighed. "No, already ruled that out. We also ruled out alcoholism. The only things left are a tummy bug or a deadly disease."
An awkward pause crept over the trio. Alice was the first to break the silence. "Maybe we should ask Mr. Caterpillar."
Just then Hare's watch beeped and he retrieved the thermometer from Hatter's mouth. "Hm...you don't have a fever. Maybe we should ask Caterpillar."
Hatter sighed as Hare helped him up. The three exited the gate and disappeared into the brush.
* * *
When they arrived in front of the sagely green Caterpillar, he looked at them with his perpetually bored expression and waited for whatever problem they had come to him for. As Hare seemed too busy trying to get Hatter into a comfortable position on one of the mushrooms, Alice stepped forward.
"Mr. Caterpillar, the Hatter isn't feeling well and he's gotten really..." her voice dropped. "Fat," she stage whispered. The Caterpillar raised an eyebrow.
"Didn't this already happen?" He drawled.
Hare piped up. "Yes, but it isn't the cookies this time. We're sure of it." The Caterpillar seemed to ponder this for a moment.
"I don't know if I have any anecdotes for this."
"Well don't you have a story or something?" Alice plead.
He extended his three empty sets of hands and Alice's shoulders slumped.
"Guys, I don't see why we are talking to this giant caterpillar when we can just go to the godamn doctor," Hatter finally said.
Alice seemed horrified that Hatter had just slipped the g-word, but Hare quickly excused him. "Hatter's really not feeling well. It probably would be best if we went to the doctor. Sorry for the trouble..." Hare pulled Hatter up again and they shuffled back through the brush. Alice looked back to him once before following. The Caterpillar rolled his eyes.
"I rrrreally need to find some more independent frrriendsss..."
* * *
Hatter and Hare sat uncomfortably in front of Dr. Busby, that creepy guy with a million tongue depressors.
"So we're gonna need a urine test. To rule out that it's a urinary tract infection."
"Right," Hatter replied, glancing at Hare.
"The restroom is just down the hall, Mr. Hatter. Here's a cup."
Hatter reluctantly took the cup and glared at his surroundings, then stiffly walked out the door. The doctor turned to Hare.
"What areyou doing in here?"
Hare set down his issue of Better Homes & Gardens.
"I always come with Hatter to stuff like this."
"...You don't think there's anything weird about that?"
"No... I really don't." Hare's cute little almond-shaped eyes narrowed.
"Huhg." The doctor tilted his head at him.
A couple minutes later, Hatter came back with the filled cup and handed it to the doctor. "Okay. We will go run a test on it right now. I will probably be back in about 10 minutes, because we're fast like that and this is Wonderland."
Hatter and Hare nodded and the doctor left. They waited in anticipation, shuffling their feet a bit.
"So...do you think it's an...infection?" Hare tried to make conversation.
Hatter knitted his brow. "I really don't think it has anything to do with my..." he stopped abruptly before leaning towards the Hare, as if he were about to divulge a deep, dark secret, "penis."
His companion raised an eyebrow and quivered. "What else could it possibly be?" Hatter let out a pained sigh, unsure as to how he was supposed to begin this conversation.
"Hare, old buddy, old pal...I was watching the Hat Channel the other day and..." This was really obviously difficult for him.
"You were watching the Hat Channel and...?" the Hare prodded, trying to understand where this was going and how in the hell it was relevant to his friend's ailment.
"Sometimes they have public service announcements— y'know, like 'say no to drugs' and 'don't drive drunk'—"
"Yes, yes, I'm fully aware as to what public service announcements are," Hare cut him off. Hatter's face contorted into a perturbed expression.
"Hare, I'm trying to tell you something important here! Could you kindly shut the fuck up?!" Hare put up his hands in a placating gesture as he continued. "As I was saying, this public service announcement was about safe sex. Do you...do you remember when we...um..." Before Hare could answer, the doctor was back in the room. His expression was unreadable.
"Is it...bad, Doc?" Hatter asked, obviously worried for his penis.
The doctor sat down and inhaled. "It's like this..." You could have heard a pin drop.
"Oh God! It's not...cancer, is it?!" Hare gasped. The doctor laughed humorlessly, still seemingly unable to meet their eyes.
"No, it's not cancer." Their sighs of relief were short-lived. "Actually...I can't believe I'm saying this... You're pregnant."
The both of them gasped dramatically and held to each other's hands.
"...But. But how can that be?"
"W-...We're not really sure. It just is."