Hatter's Revenge (rewriting - read at own risk)

Ch. 5: Separate Ways

Mad woke early the next morning and slipped quietly through the house, his eyes adjusting easily to the faint dawn light. He wasn't interested in goodbyes, he'd said too many of them, but never managed to get good at them.

"Are you really leaving, Mr. Hatter?" Alice's soft voice stopped him at the front door. 

So much for not saying any goodbyes. Mad turned, a smile that was just barely polite on his face.

"I'm afraid so, Miss Alice." He tugged on his gloves, moving his shoulder gingerly. He wondered if there was anything he could say that would change her mind. He wondered if there was any way to stop this impending war.

Then he decided that wasn't his job. If war wanted to come, war would come. Men couldn't stop it no matter how much they pretended they controlled it. Mad knew it was the other way around. War controlled men with its siren call of glory, then it claimed them for its own in one way or another.

Alice's voice startled him away from his musings.

"But why? You don't seem like the kind of man who would run from anything." She walked closer to him, looking up at him with those big blue eyes. Eyes like cornflowers.

Mad sighed. "There's a difference between running and avoiding a slaughter. It's very similar to the thin line between bravery and stupidity."

"Seems like an excuse to me, Mr. Hatter. It seems more likely that you're just afraid. You can make a difference but you won't because you don't have the guts." Alice finished, then took a step back as Mad leaned close, towering over her.

"Now," Mad said in a very low voice, "I understand that you don't know me. So you couldn't possibly know where I've been or what I've endured, so I'll say this as nicely as I can. You," he hissed, "can lecture me on fear or bravery when you've been through what I have."

"Oh and what exactly would that be, Mr. Hatter? What have you been through?" Alice asked, her lip curling like he was an over-reactionary child.

Mad rubbed a hand over his mouth before saying, "Do the words Japanese POW camp mean anything to you?" He knew they did when she paled slightly.

"Mr. Hatter, surely you aren't saying," Alice began.

He nodded. "Oh yes I am. I'm just one of the lucky bastards who managed to stay alive." Mad didn't like using foul language in front of a girl, but there really was no other word for it. He continued on as she pressed a hand to her mouth in horror. "I'm sure you heard the stories. Like I told Cheshire. I'm done watching friends die. I spent two very long years doing it."

Alice brought her hand down. "How did you manage to survive until you were set free?"

Mad smiled humorlessly. "I escaped. Managed to hook up with some guerrillas. Tried to get some of the other boys out."

Alice seized on this. "But Mr. Hatter! That just proves my point. You save people! You did in the war and you can do it here. Maris told me of the horrible oppression of the Heart Queen. You can help us end that! You can save more people!"

Mad exhaled, fighting the guilt that now reared its ugly head. He placed his hat on his head and said, "You're assuming I was able to save anyone the first time. Goodbye Miss Alice." He quietly opened the door and vanished into the early morning mist.

Mad managed about twenty yards before the memories took him. He began sprinting, trying to escape the brutal, clawed beast called Guilt.

But he wasn't fast enough. He never was. Mad felt the echo of the beatings he'd taken. The way his skin had blistered under the tropical sun. He felt the ache of hunger and the burn of thirst, the weakness of disease.