Author's Notes: Ha! Bet you thought I was lying when I said there would be a sequel! This is going to turn out to be significantly longer than Some Sort of Fairy Tale and hopefully satiates your curiosity in regards to things alluded to in that story. (If you haven't read it, you may be confused, so go check it out.) Enjoy!

Chapter 1 – The Man Behind The Glass Window

It's not until sixteen hours later, when he's lying alone in his bed, that he realizes that he misses Alice. And damn it all to hell, hadn't he just spent the last day promising himself that he wouldn't?

The bed feels wrong - cold and empty and way too big for someone like him. The sheets are rumpled and smell of someone else and he pretends that it isn't her. He pretends that his pillows have always carried those indentations and that the long dark strand of hair he'd found earlier is all a part of his very active imagination. But as he's learned in the past few days, he's a terrible liar.

He doesn't sleep well that night, or the one after that. Each day, Dormie stops by and they talk just to talk. He's as lost as Hatter feels but they both make a show of keeping it together.

On day six, Dormie is the first to break.

"Don't really have a clue what I'm supposed to be doing." His voice is grim as he stares into his glass.

"Robbing someone blind, I imagine."

"Not much to take, is there?" It's Hatter's turn to stare into his cup because the biting mark is as true as it has ever been.

Dormie begins to fidget as the silence closes in around them.

"What about you? Got some fancy plan to get this place back on its feet again?"

Hatter shrugs and throws back the last of the clear liquid in his glass.

"I can't say that I do."

That night, as all of the others, he can't fall asleep. It's eerily quite, what with half the population gone and the other holed up in their homes, there wasn't even the silent click of the Suits patrolling the city. He closes his eyes again and, though he knows he should be, isn't surprised to see two very familiar men.

The Hands of Time are sitting at a work table, pieces and parts of a machine spread out before them. The one in red leans forward and shakes his head.

"The clock ticks..."

The one in blue leans in as well, peers down at the device. "Ah but it doesn't tock. A bit off kilter, my boy. Keep the balance, keep the body. Keep the body, steady goes the mind."

Hatter clears his throat. "Fancy meeting you two here."

The one in red gives him an odd look. "Fancy meeting you here at all."

His counterpart rises, wiping oil covered hands on the denim of his coveralls.

"Quite the ordeal you went through. Glad to see you made it through."

"Glad to find you in one piece."

"Yes, well, always like to keep my bits in one place."

"And yet..." They cock their heads in unison, listening for something it seems and Hatter takes a moment to do the same. There's a noise in the background, something familiar but out of place. "And yet, it appears that not everything is as it should be, young Hatter. No, something isn't right at all." There's a frown gracing the faces of both men and it causes something in his stomach to knot.

"You'll want to sort that out, my boy. After all, you've come this far."

And with that they're gone and the sun is rising and, despite the ominous message, Hatter is not scared, but utterly confused. Because now he can hear the unnatural stutter of the clock, can feel that something is fundamentally wrong with the sound.

He isn't ignorant enough to think this has nothing to do with a certain brown haired, blue eyed oyster. He's also not stupid enough to think this has only to do with her.

The thing is, losing balance is sort of a very big thing for members of the Hatter clan. It's a fine line between sanity and madness and it didn't take much to tip a person the wrong way. Without the benefit of sanity, there was nothing standing between the Phantom Library and those with the will and ability to infiltrate it.

Hatter sits up and sighs, the beginning of a headache settling just behind his temples.

Introspection has never been one of his favorite past times and Gods knew he'd had more than his fair share of it in the last few days. None of this matters, of course, because whether or not he likes it, he needs to figure this out.