The Arms of a Woman

It had been agony, every minute, every second without her; the thought of her had even brought that dull ache to the boy's chest, reminding him that he could still feel. She kept his heart beating when he wanted to give up, when everything seemed so hopeless that he’d closed his eyes and dreamed of what death would be like. There were times when Hatter had wondered how hope stayed alive out in the trenches of war; how did men with children and lives that went back years keep a light in their hearts when things seemed so utterly desolate. He had been without hope years ago, waiting to feel something that never came around. And in those desperate moments he had questioned his own worth, had wondered why his life meant nothing and why he went on living anyway. Hatter did not believe that he deserved the life that had been given to him, a seemingly charmed thing that had deviated very little over the years.

Now those same fates had seen fit to give him something to live for, something to feel worthy of; although the boy certainly did not see himself as the best man for her. Alice deserved someone who could take care of her, not a soldier boy who couldn't keep himself alive, much less protect her. But Hatter had a strong will, one strong enough to drive him through those cold nights spent dreaming of her and the dismal days spent taking bullets to the heart. He couldn’t bear the possibility of dying out here with the rest of them, laying stiff and nameless on the cold ground, one of a million dead boys who would never get to return home, who would never see the places of their childhood one last time. He wondered what they saw in those last throes of life; their family, their homes, or did they just see the flashes of bombs exploding in the sky overhead and hear the blood pounding in their veins? Why did the fates see fit to snip the lives of those most important to us - the ones we try to protect the most only to have to leave them to fend for themselves? Every kind of situation had run through his head, from her being kidnapped by The Queen’s guards to a stray bullet hitting her on her way home from the store. His mind filled and emptied itself with these and other nightmares daily, sickening him with a worry he had never known before.

Hatter knew there were forces in and around the city, defending it from the enemies who had invaded and taken over, and he had asked to be placed on a patrol. But as a newly promoted Captain the boy was needed further out, right in the middle of the dangerous hell they had helped to create. From so far away there was no way for him to keep an eye on her (since she had come through The Looking Glass), no way to check in and make sure that things were okay and absolutely no chance to let her know that he was still alive. And he knew she would worry more about him than he did her, although now that thought was debatable in his mind, since his every motion brought him one step closer to where she was. Every man he killed was one less that could harm the girl he loved. And he knew it was too soon to say that he loved Alice, but what other emotion could describe the pain and the elation he felt every time he saw her behind his closed lids? She was the reason he looked behind him and felt as though the fates were keeping him alive; maybe they had another plan in store for him.

A crack in the door revealed a tiny shaft of light as it opened tentatively, and in the back of his mind the boy heard the distant sound of mortar fire and yelling. His face was weathered with worry and Hatter knew that they must be confused, this soldier boy, dirty and covered in the remnants of fighting standing at the door as though he belonged there. And as he looked past The Dormouse, he saw through veiled eyes, the object of his many affections, standing like a ghost in a doorway further inside the house. His heart dropped when he took her surprise for sadness, those tears unfamiliar to him in any kind of good sense. Tears for him always marked the ending of something, not the happy beginning.

But then there she was, standing before him, flashing a fleeting glance at Dormi, as if he were not even there. To hear his name leave those lips in such a soft and easy manner, his muscles relaxed unintentionally. He felt at home in her mere presence, not even touching, just breathing the same air, although it was hard to breathe and think at the same time. It was not his mind that moved him though, it was his heart and the immediate need for him to hold her, to make sure that she was real and not just another dream. As she fell into the hardness of his chest, Hatter wrapped those strong arms around her like a protective brother, shielding her from the devastation that still lingered around them. ”Hello again beautiful.” A strangely strangled turn of words escaped him, as though they had only been apart for a moment and he was returning from a run to the store. He could smell the sweetness of her, mixing with his own ragged breathing as he hugged her harder, pushing the air out of both of them. He couldn’t kiss her, not when she looked so disoriented and scared. But he couldn’t let her go, he didn’t want the reality of her to be gone.

She was his little porcelain doll, fragile and innocent and utterly breakable in his arms. Hatter knew she was small, but she felt tiny in his embrace and he feared that he might actually shatter her into the thousand pieces that his heart had been in while they were apart. His breath came heavy and ragged as though he had run the minute distance between them, and he wanted to fall on his knees before her and worship her tiny body. She was his goddess, the light shinning through that endless darkness, leading him home to her arms. It had felt like his heart was tied to a string that she held, leading him around on the most confusing trail until he had proven himself worthy enough to love her. Hatter could be her Hercules, sweeping her off her feet after slaying one hundred monsters; and they would be put up in the stars, to play out their love story in endless recession at every equinox. Mothers would tell their children the tale of the fabled heroin Alice, waiting bravely for her soldier to return home from the war. Maybe their story had already been told a thousand times through history, but it was as new to them as it ever would be and it seemed as though it would never end.

How could it end when all Hatter could see was the girl standing before him, rememorizing every curve and slope of her body for the next time they would have to part. He knew it was inevitable, but he did not want that acidic thought to seep too far into his mind; he wanted to live in this moment as long as they could make it last. Perhaps they could draw it out like the last sip of a summer wine, sweet and facetted like a diamond in its millions of different colors of light. She was beautiful, despite her new lack of weight and the boniness of her face. He would be the rock that held her down, the person to carry her when she was too weak to do otherwise and his arms would envelope her at the best and worst times of their lives. He would be the one she would run to when she found out she was pregnant and when they lost the baby the first time because there was not enough food for a girl that was pregnant. And they would cry together as they cried now, but out of sadness and loss instead of joy. Oh but he was happy to see her.

His heart beat erratically in his swelling chest as she moved closer to him, and her soft fingertips on his cheek raised the blood as she trailed them down his neck to the place where his heart lay. Hatter was flushed from it, wanting with all the marrow in his bones to take her away and lay her down and show her all the things he had been dreaming of these long weeks. There would come a time for those things, but now they were caught up in the innocence of their rediscovery of one another, all hands and hearts and lips and breath. And he let his head fall forward into the folds of her dark hair, swimming in the ocean of her sent and discarded warmth. Hatter’s throat burned with so many things when she confessed to have been waiting for him, but all he could do was swallow roughly and nod, holding her in his slightly vacant gaze. There were a million things that he wanted to tell her, that he wanted to do, but they were too much and they would break this careful reverie that they had created.

Oh and when Alice looked at him the way she did the boy could think of nothing more then those tender little lips, telling him that she had missed him, much the same way he missed her. And he knew she had felt the same fear that had crept over him in the darkest parts of the night, when the longing turned to acidic wonder. Why she was still standing a few steps away, Hatter was not sure but he had grown cold without her immediate presence, and watched her as though they had not ever known each other. ”I missed you too Alice, more than you can ever know.” His smile was almost timid, boyish in its charm and wonder.

And he reached his hand out over the long distance between them, catching her fingers in his newly callused palm and tugged gently so that she tiptoed towards him again. Hatter wrapped her up in his arms again, pressing his face into the crook of her neck and breathing into her hair, creating a warm little pocket there that felt as heavy as both of their hearts. And it was too much for him to bear, not to kiss her when they were so close, so caught up once again in their own little world. She was home, her lips like an old familiar friend, warm and soft with their welcoming heat. He couldn’t let her go, would not let her go again for fear of losing her for real this time. How could they ever have been apart for a month when it felt like just yesterday that he had kissed these same lips, and held her in his arms for a fleeting eternity, before leaving. But this time it would be different. It had to be different because in all his world there was nothing more important than she was. There was this painful aching in his chest still, even though she was in the same room, just slightly removed from him, and Hatter wondered how he had survived those weeks without her. This reunion confirmed Hatter’s belief that he was in fact alive, and very able to feel all the emotions he had always tried to jam down into the very bottom of his heart, those things they had bottled and sold for a quick high.

She had been a shimmering ghost all those long nights, leading him down some misty road into fitful dreams of happy reunions and lost lovers. And his whole body throbbed with the beating of his heart as she closed the distance between them, making her all the more real in this dream world of theirs. She was perfect, and always would be. But he did not know how he would break the news of his sooner than later departure to this beautiful creature, this girl that had so filled his heart and world with things he had not even known he could feel. It seemed as though he would suck the very life out of her with that kind of revelation, even though they both knew it must happen at some point. That was his life and the world that they were both forced to live in now.

But not now, no, now was about pretending everything was okay for an hour or so; this moment was about forgetting the world outside their windows and living in each other. And she was home, the perfect description of the cure to his loneliness and despair. Her body fit perfectly into the concave space between his ribs, and through his thin shirt he could feel the warmth of her small body pressed against his. He was no longer that awkward boy crushing her that he had been moments before, now Hatter was her polar opposite, attracting her in an electric embrace that made his skin tingle in an unfamiliar way. His body was white hot, a super nova ready to explode with his desire for everything she had offered up to him. Once again they were one whole person when they were together, a perfect picture of Romeo and Juliet without the tragic ending. But up to this point the boy had refused to give a name and meaning to the feelings that he knew existed between them. They were too new to be something as ancient as love, but to desperate to be anything but that archaic emotion. So he just kissed her like the world was ending, cupping her doll’s cheek into the thing, and leaving them both breathless.

Her sudden words hit him like a blow to the chest, causing him to expend every last gasp of air in his lungs and leaving him empty for a moment. She was not the first girl to tell him such a sacred thing, though Alice would be the first to illicit such a response from the boy. By far he wanted to turn and run, not because he did not love her, but because the realization of it scared him to death. His honey colored eyes opened large, staring down at the crown of her head as she let her hot breath trickle down his abdomen through his clothing. And he took her shoulders in his hands, forcing her to look up at him in a brash and childish movement. The boy had not decided on this - Alice had forced it on him, but it was something they would have had to face at some point anyway.

”You love me? But how could you love me, I’m terrible for leaving you and I’ll have to do it again soon.” His face twisted itself into a pained sort of frown as he considered her statement again. The ache in his chest told him not to lie to her, even if it would hurt them both in the end, even if it would bring tears to his stoic eyes for the first time in years. His heart struck his ribs in a decadent beat that gave away his fears, and his apprehension caught like dust in his throat. ”Alice, I…” What would she think of him, would she think him weak for letting the words turn to ash in his mouth? ”I love you too.” The boy choked it out, even though it was the blinding truth that had been made achingly evident to him in the month they had spent apart. Hatter ran his thumb along the bottom rim of her eye, removing the tears that had collected on her girlishly long lashes, and smiled in a wistful sort of way. He had not wanted to tell her that he loved her because it made this all too real - it made the reality of him dying seem so close, and even more harsh than when he had just been living for himself. The boy was reminded why he had stayed so distant all those nights in other women’s beds; he had not wanted those young souls clinging to the hope that he would return the next day, when he very likely would not. He wanted desperately to protect Alice from the inevitable heartbreak that this new revelation would someday bring. Everyone died someday, everyone.

But he looked down at her in his childish sort of way and bit his lower lip, wondering what had brought this on in the first place. He knew that distance made the heart grow fonder, he had experienced that himself, but to say that she loved him, it was just a surprise. Closing his eyes, Hatter laid his forehead flush against Alice’s and breathed quietly. His heart beat in his ears louder than before, and he knew she would be able to hear it if she listened carefully enough. But maybe that was what this was all about; being so connected that they knew what each other were thinking without even speaking.

She looked like a child in his hands, and he had not meant to be so harsh as to force her to look at him, although he had needed her to; needed her to understand the depth of what they both had just said. Could they really have fallen in love over just a few days, meager minutes spent wrapped in each other’s arms and not even wondering if there was something else out there. Alice deserved so much more than Hatter could offer her; she should not have to spend sleepless nights worrying about a boy whose next steps could take him further from her and closer to death. He put her in danger every second he was here, because he was the enemy, the one who would shatter than beautiful innocence of hers and drag her down into his mire of darkness. And it wasn’t because he wanted to, it was just the fact of his presence, the weighty heft of his body before her in all its male splendor that made it true. Hatter had never meant to make her love him, had never wanted Alice to be forced into the tailspin and total loss of control that those emotions inevitably brought, but he also could not say that he wasn’t glad she had.

He loved her, felt that ticking in his chest that only she could quicken and knew that even if he did die, that he would be better for having known her. The boy felt as though every other girl that he had ever been with had never existed because they had never meant anything compared to the one before him now. Why was she different, this little doll that clutched at his shirt and never intended to let go? How could she make him feel like a better man when he had only known her but a moment; a moment that felt like an eternity in all its beautiful resonance. They would tell their children about this someday, if they ever made it to that point, and for the first time in his life that prospect did not scare Hatter. He had needed a reason to continue to fear death, a reason to fight harder but be more careful with his own life and she had become that reason. But he knew that their whole world could come crashing down around them at the next moment, and it made him hold her a little tighter, as though he could protect her from even himself.

He knew he could not do anything to change her mind now, since his own mind had been made up for days. Alice had changed him in these fleeting moments and brief kisses, changed him into a man that his mother would have been proud of. Focusing on her sweet little breaths caressing his parched lips, Hatter thought that he truly was terrible, in many more ways than she could ever know. He had never been grounded before, always living like a wayward soul without a reason to stay more than a few instants in any place, but she had created a home for him within her. Hatter wanted to crawl into that safe place between her ribs and her heart and live out the rest of this war so that they could be together. He would live there forever if he could, in that special cavern that he had carved out for himself, with his smile alone and perhaps the palms of his hands. And she would realize in the coming days how harsh love could be on those who are young and naïve; in the darkness when she was alone, Alice would rediscover a pain that had haunted her over that month of their separation.

She needed to be closer to him, and the unbuttoning of his shirt sent a shiver down Dean’s spine that landed promptly in his gut as it churned with that brashly male need for human contact. And he let his hands fall to her sides, pushing at the thin cotton of her own shit so that he could feel the warm skin of her lower back. She radiated a warmth than filled his cold bones and he could not help reveling in the feeling of her ephemeral kisses on his jaw. He was so intoxicated by her feminine wiles, ones she did not even know that she possessed, that he became lost in her again, simply at the fact of their lips touching. And he hugged her closer, memorizing her smell and the curves of her body as it pressed softly against his own. But as good things can never last forever, so too must lovers be parted, even if it is not by their own choice.

Outside her window the sounds of gunfire drew near, and they, wrapped up so as they were in their own private universe, did not hear them. But like the dog he had once been, Hatter felt the familiar shake of their leaded windowpanes, and that acidic rush of adrenaline hit his heart, causing him to pull abruptly away. He could not be found here, not looking like this, and just his presence was putting them in unneeded danger. A shot rang out only a few houses away, and his golden brown eyes grew large at the realization that they would be torn apart again in the same dangerous fashion as before. Racing to the closed door, Hatter put his ear to it for a brief second and knew they both had to go to their separately safe dungeons, locked away from each other for another period of agony. ”You have to go hide Alice, if they find me here it won’t be good for anyone.” The time he had spent wishing he was not terrible for her disappeared with his words, and the boy knew she could be dead soon because of him. But all he could do was grab her desperately for a parting kiss and then push her along in the direction of the cellar, where the others were waiting. And he could not be brave in these waning seconds, at least his eyes could not, and as he shouted at them to be silent, he pleaded in his own silent second to March and The Dormouse to keep her safe and to forgive him for everything that he had not done, and those things that had not been his fault.

As he opened the door, Hatter saw a White soldier in the near distance, entering another house on the far corner and prayed that they would pass by the tea shop, as abandoned and dilapidated as it looked. He could not bear the acidic thought of her death, not now, not when they were so close to having something to hold on to.