Forget Me Not

Summary: "You won't remember me." "Of course I will, how could I forget?" The Hatter feared that Alice wouldn't remember him, but he never considered the possibility that he would forget Alice. AxH

A/N: Ah – I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but here is the last chapter for my last Alice/Hatter fanfic! ;_; I love you guys! I'm probably going to suffer from fanfic withdrawal over the next few days…

Someone had a great question about how to contact me after the stories were over and done with. You could always contact me through FFnet, but I also have gaia and a deviantArt (though nothing on it is very good on there and it hasn't been updated in a while.) My gaia username is the same, Je Love You, and on deviantArt I am Kaffing (Please be aware this is not an active account; it has all my old works and I use it purely for favourites now, etc. I will start a new account under Je Love You eventually, but I've been too lazy so far. xD). Feel free to add me on either of those sites. =) I used to be -werewolfs twilight- on gaia [I named that before the Twilight saga came out and it has nothing to do with it] but they banned my account on false pretenses that I was botting when really I had accidentally hit "Keep me logged in" on my three different house computers. *SIGH* So my current profile is obscenely empty. I had over a million gold worth of items on the old account, but alas, alas! A new beginning as Je Love You. =)

This person also asked if I RP. I do RP, mostly on gaia in private threads or PM's. I only do literate RP's, and usually only one-on-one with romance in the plot somewhere.

Enough of that. Onto the epilogue! =D / *sniffle* Thank you all for staying with me!

The usual disclaimer applies.

Epilogue: Forget Me Not


Seraphyne ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. She giggled loudly, frequently glancing over her shoulder to see if they were chasing her.

"Pheenie, slow down!" called a woman. "You might hurt yourself!"

"You hafta catch me first- Oof!"

The little girl looked up, blonde curls bouncing around her face. More giggles erupted from Seraphyne as she felt strong arms wrap around her, lifting her from the ground. Her heart was pounding, and she immediately wiggled, struggling to remove herself from her captor.

"Look at that," said the man, green eyes twinkling merrily. "Seems as though I caught you."

"You can never catch me!" the girl exclaimed, flailing wildly. The man grunted slightly as her foot made contact with his gut, but he smiled anyway, looking up as the woman approached them, breathing heavily. His green eyes immediately flickered to a pale shade of lavender.

"Someone was being naughty and running from mummy, it seems."

"She wants me to take a bath," said the little girl defiantly. "What if she wanted me to jump from a cloud? Would she expect me to do it?" The lady and the man exchanged knowing smiles.

"I won't have a bath!" Seraphyne exclaimed. "You don't scare me!"


"Ah!" Seraphyne hid her face deep within the many fabrics that clothed her father's chest. After a few seconds, only when she realized there was complete silence, did she open one eye.

"Hello, strange child."

"Chess!" Seraphyne reached her chubby arms out to the purple cat, but he quickly evaporated before she could take hold. He settled himself down on the large top hat upon the man's head, watching the girl with amusement.

"I'm gonna getcha!" Seraphyne exclaimed, stretching her arms but failing to reach. She was giggling again.

"I have presents for the two of you," said the Cat to the woman, swishing his tail. Two blue flowers found their way behind the ears of the woman and her daughter.

"What are these?" asked Seraphyne, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Forget Me Nots," replied the Cat, head held high. "The only flowers grown here from the world above."

"Wow. The world above? That's where mommy's from, right?"

"Right," said the man, kissing Seraphyne on top of the head. Seraphyne giggled.

"Your eyes look funny, daddy."

"They're just showing how much I love you and your mommy," he responded, giving her an Eskimo kiss.

"Eww!" exclaimed the girl.

The woman leaned into the man with a smile, whispering in his ear.

"Mr. Hightopp, I do believe your daughter is being very unreasonable."

"I do believe you're right, Mrs. Hightopp, but she's your daughter too, and I'm almost certain she inherited such bold defiance from you." He gave the woman a kiss, the little girl between them giggling as she reached out to the floating cat.

"What else do you have there, Chessy-poo?" the girl asked.

The Cat glared at the man who was giggling at the title 'Chessy-poo.'

"You're lucky she's cute. Now – gather 'round for a photograph." The Cat pulled out a very old-looking camera.

"Oh my," said the woman. "Where did you get that?"

"It's mine," said the man with a smile. "My father found it in London after he and my mother married. We've been using it ever since. Whenever McTwisp went up to the surface he would snatch some film for us, too." He set his daughter down on the ground, and his wife knelt down beside the girl, pressing her cheek against hers.

"Smile at daddy, sweetheart," she said as the man took the camera from the cat.

They smiled at the camera, the blue flowers standing out against yellow hair.

People disappear all the time.

Ask the police officers who've lost a criminal due a change of identity. Ask the anguished housewives who leave their cheating husbands and are never seen again. Ask the children who are upset, run away, and are unable to find their way back home.

Ask the mothers of abducted children.

Helen Kingsleigh sighed as she stepped out of the carriage. Margaret Gibb, her married daughter, was standing on the stone steps of the cathedral. Both women were wearing blue. The two women said nothing, merely acknowledging each other with hugs, before walking inside the massive building. They removed their headgear and walked through the empty pews, to the side, where rows and rows of candles stood. Some were lit, others weren't. They both lit two more candles and kneeled in front of them, bowing their heads in prayer. They each held a blue flower between their palms, a Forget Me Not. They were symbols of their lost Alice, never to be forgotten.

Many of the lost are found eventually. Sometimes they will be alive, sometimes dead. Disappearances, after all, have explanations. An explanation is an explanation no matter how mad it may be – usually. This disappearance, however, had yet to have an explanation. It was almost as though Alice and her abductor had vanished from the face of the Earth.

This was a ritual for them. Every month, they would light a candle for Alice Kingsleigh, the daughter who had been lost and never found. It had been years since her disappearance. They would light candles, pray, eat lunch, then return to the Kingsleigh Manor and chat. Helen and Margaret were close, bound together by the memories of Alice and Charles Kingsleigh. The two of them had been one in the same, always off in their own little world with thoughts and ideas much too bold for the people of this century.

"Her dreams, I remember, would always bother her," said Helen.

"At least she's at peace now," replied Margaret.

"I hope so."

"Mrs. Kingsleigh?" Helen looked up, smiling kindly at the butler who had knocked so politely on the door.

"Yes, Mr. Black?"

"You've a letter."

"Thank you."

She accepted the envelope from him, waiting until he had left the room before opening it.

"What is it?" asked Margaret curiously. Helen didn't respond, too busy with opening the envelope. After a few seconds of paper rustling, the woman retrieved the document that had been inside. It wasn't a letter, though; there was no writing. Helen's eyebrow's rose high, her eyes widening as her gaze settled upon the photo.


Margaret leaned, maneuvering around the table so she could see what Helen was looking at. When she saw it, she gasped, almost knocking over her tea in the process.

In the photo was an eerily familiar blonde woman, very pretty in her mid to late twenties, smiling and pressing her cheek against a small girl's. The resemblance between the two was uncanny, the only difference in their eyes. While the woman, clearly the mother, had darker brown eyes, the young girl's eyes were the most bright, unique shade of green. The two had an air of love and serenity in the photo.

"Is that... is that Alice?" asked Margaret, eyes wide. Helen nodded. She would recognize her youngest baby anywhere.

"But why would she send us this?"

"To let us know she's all right," said Helen fondly, caressing her daughter's face in the photograph. Her eyes began to water slightly. Suddenly, Helen noticed something. Tucked behind their left ears was a flower – a blue flower.

A Forget Me Not.

A/N: I really appreciate all of those who took the time out of their busy schedules to read this story; it makes writing worth it. I can only hope you all enjoyed it, and "je love you" all!