All righty, then...my first story! Please be aware that I am not a tech genius...so if the title doesn't show up or something...well, we'll just see what happens...

Wahoo! Although this is not the first fic I've written, it's the only one I have on this computer...I have others in different categories (Phantom Of The Opera, Across The Universe, Edward Scissorhands) which are still in a notebook. Yeah. I actually write. By hand. I feel like a dinosaur.

Disclaimer: I own no part of Syfy's Alice.

Oh, by the way, forgot to mention this is based on Syfy's Alice. I'm sure any fans of Andrew Lee Potts will agree that he is one of the top reasons to watch it. =)

And this is from Hatter's POV. Yay.

And so, without further ado about nothing, I proudly present...

Bottled Emotions

Three days. It's been three days since the looking glass was reopened and all the oysters set free. I should have been happy. After all, it meant the Resistance had succeeded. But I wasn't. Because the first one to go back was the most remarkable oyster with one hell of a pearl inside her.

Alice. My Alice.

If the Tea Shop were still open, which it isn't, I wonder if there would be a particular bottle for what I'm feeling. Sadness beyond comprehension. An overwhelming sadness that crushes your chest and makes it almost impossible to breathe. Grief, for both of us. I've lost her and she lost her father, who she was barely able to wake up before he was shot. Carpenter, that's what he was known as here. And last but not least, longing. I miss her so much.

The Tea Shop closed, and I can never set foot in the Great Library again, seeing as Dodo shot me. So that rules that one out. Bottom line is, I have nowhere to go. Ratty, of all people, found me a place to stay in an abandoned factory, but I can't stay there too long or I will truly live up to my name. Mad. I'll go mad anyway, if I don't see her again. I never even told her my name. She just called me "Hatter", and for all intensive purposes, it should have been just fine. But once she found out about Jack…well, then things changed quite a bit, didn't they? Still, it would have been nice to hear her call me David, just once.

I suppose I could have stayed in the fortress with Charlie, at least for a while, but what can I say? The man drives me utterly insane. And besides, people were starting to come back and rebuild the kingdom. All I wanted was to be left alone for a while. I needed time to think.

I wonder how she is. I've heard that some oysters couldn't handle the journey here and arrived dead and therefore useless. I don't know what they did with them, nor do I particularly want to. Can't have been worse than what they did to the ones who were still living. Literally bottling their emotions. At least they had emotions, back in their world. Here, people didn't have any. They had to drink other people's joys and sorrows. Drugs, that's all human feeling was. Instant gratification. So what's wrong with me, then? I've been through a lot in the past week or so. And I still don't feel anything other than this crushing weight I wish I could let go of.

Being a generous person by nature has its drawbacks. I was genuinely hurt that Alice didn't trust me. I don't think she ever did, completely. She still had her "are you sure about this?" moments just when I thought everything was fine and dandy. I hate to admit it, but I was almost in tears after she left with Jack to go see Caterpillar. After all, she'd almost kissed me.

I suddenly remembered exactly what I needed. So I made a little detour today. I went back to my shop on the way to the filthy factory I now call home, pried off the boards that covered the door, and made my way inside. On the shelf in my old "office" was a collection of bottled emotions that had never done well. Never were much in demand, anyway. The Red Queen and all her cohorts only wanted the good emotions, not the bad ones. See what I mean? Instant gratification. The good without the bad.

Scanning the shelf, I started to wonder if what I was looking for wasn't here after all—but that was impossible, I knew everything that had ever come in and out of my shop! Hmm, let's see…misery...loss…devastation…depression…aha, here! Heartbreak. The liquid inside was a deep blue. Blues were the most painful emotions to swallow, and they hit the fastest. I decided to take it with me and take it when I was relatively safe, or as safe as I could be, living in a decaying old factory at the edge of the city.

Back in my humble abode, the springs squeaked as I sat down on the filthy old cot that was my bed and pulled the stopper. A glass was ready and waiting for me to pour the dose in. One drop at a time, just like I told Ratty. Otherwise the experience might break my already shriveled up little heart. Ha! But that's what it's supposed to do. Oh, Hatter, you've done it. You've finally gone mad. I poured not one drop, but three. Lethal heartbreak. It even smelled like ice. Pouring it down my throat, I felt it burn. Cold pain spread through my body as heat seared the corners of my eyes and the tears ran hot, burning my face. My heart felt like it was going to rip in half. I laid down and let the pillow absorb my acid tears.

Alice…I'll be with you soon.

So there you have it. Cheesy, yes. Fluffy? Incredibly. But I like fluffy things...

I'm curious to know if I'm a good writer and if I should continue with this mad little venture of mine...so reviews would be greatly appreciated.

I find it lamentable that everything I write sounds sarcastic.

It's not.

At least, not this time.