Note: This chapter is based on the fourth patient interview tape with the Mad Hatter from Batman: Arkham City. I own nothing! Period.

Chapter IV: With Gently Smiling Jaws…

The days seem even longer now.

Not that they were short before; living where it is always six o'clock can do that.

He waits, counting seconds, counting minutes, counting hours, counting how often he counts things…

He counts the time that goes on until he can get his Alice back.

He's been in a dark, cold cell – "Solitaire," or something like that – for the past three weeks…he thinks. Maybe only three days. Such a bothersome fellow, Father Time…

The food he gets here is awful…though it wouldn't be any better if he weren't there. It just seems even worse, given the atmosphere. How he longs for his tea, and maybe some plum cake. Or at least a bit of bread-and-butter. Any one of them would make him happier.

Alice would make him ecstatic.

Where is that naughty girl, anyway? What has the bloody Paper Suit King done with her, if anything? Why won't she come back to him? He needs her…doesn't she know that? Silly thing, always in a rush after that stupid Rabbit…

He sighs, louder than he has ever sighed before.

'"DoWn, DoWn, DoWn…WoUlD tHe FaLl NeVeR cOmE tO aN eNd?'"

Without warning, the door opens. In the dim light – so bright to him, ironically, he covers his eyes briefly and lets out a sharp squeak of surprise – he sees the silouhette of the Knave of Hearts.

"Yo, Hatter! Yer out of Solitary. It's time for another session with yer shrink. No tricks this time!"

Hatter cocks his head to one side.

"Tricks? I don't want to play tricks on anyone! I just want my Alice! Are you sure she isn't the one playing tricks?"

"Just come on!"

Hatter groans.

"Fine. But I don't see the point…when he talks, 'iT's RaThEr HaRd To UnDeRsTaNd.'"

"I'll bet. Let's go."

The Knave called Cash brings him down the hall, to the King's office. He doesn't look at anything except his shoes as he sits, completely of his own free will (or whatever is in its place) into the chair across from the King in the Paper Suit.

"You sure you can handle him, Professor? After last time…"

"I'm sure nothing will go wrong this time. By the way, did you get back his…?"

"Yeah, but I don't see what good it'll do. Your s'posed to be treatin' him, not makin' him worse, doc."

"I think it will help, Mr. Cash. I really do. Please, wait outside. If the need arises, I'll call you."

"All right, but don't say I didn't warn ya."

The Knave leaves.

The King turns on the recorder, as usual.

No words are spoken for a long, long time.

Hatter sighs loudly.

"Well…Alice isn't coming…is she?"

He looks up, timidly, at the King, who gazes back, thoughtfully.

"That all depends on how you cooperate," whispers the goateed ruler.

The Mad Hatter looks at him pointedly, urging him to go on.

The King takes a deep breath.

"I have a little…side project that I'm working on," he says, the ghostliest of smiles apparent on his lips. "I could use your help."

Hatter's eyes widen. He shakes his head instantly.

"My help?" he chirps, fretfully. "I can't help! I'll be late…!"

And if I'm late, the March Hare will scold me, the Dormouse will snore in my ear all day, and Alice…

"Stay focused, Jervis."

The Hatter blinks, and tries to look focused…without much success. The King sighs loudly, rising from his seat. He turns away from the Hatter, focusing on the back wall, hands in the pockets of his paper coat.

"This facility is old," says the King, his voice contemptuous. "Tired. Full of ghosts."

Hatter gulps, eyes wide as saucers.

"Ghosts?"

The King laughs.

"A figure of speech," he says, placatingly, and half-turns toward the Mad Hatter. "Do not worry: Arkham Asylum will not exist forever. Its techniques are old. Its mission? Outdated. I intend to create a new Arkham," he explains, raising his head high with pride, "An Arkham that will rise, phoenix-like, from the ashes of this one!"

Ashes?

Ashes means smoke, and smoke means the toast is burning, and if the toast is burning, that means...

"Is there a fire?" Hatter whispers. He shudders, glancing around nervously, looking for a splash of red-orange that might be the flames, leaping right at him. "Ohh...we should get out of here..."

The King pays him no heed.

"I have arranged for some documents to be left in your cell," he says. "They outline a technique I proposed to control the mind of...shall we just say, "weaker souls"?

Hatter looks up, surprised. The King in the Paper Suit...wants him to start hatting again? But...isn't he supposed to stop him from hatting? Will he give him Alice if he hats for him?

Oh, he really hopes so...

"...I cannot do it without rabbits."

The King raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly, silently prodding him to continue, much as the shorter man did earlier with his own eyes.

"I need rabbits for my research. And tea! And..."

"And Alice, I know."

The King's a psychic? How interesting...

The King chuckles and turns away again.

"I have arranged for a number of test subjects to be at your disposal," he says. "They have been here at Arkham Asylum for so many years that no one will miss them."

Hatter smiles slightly, but his smirk vanishes quite fast...much faster than a cat's...

"Shall we meet again next week?"

The King does not turn around as he says this; it is more of a command than a question or request.

Hatter looks down, thoughtful.

Oh, he's not sure about this...hatting is good – he can't be who he is if he doesn't hat people – but the King? He's not entirely certain if he is or not...

Of course, if he gets rabbits and/or Alice, that will be nice...

But getting a knife in the back, or a needle in the neck? Not so nice...

"Oh!" the King gasps, remembering, and holds up a finger in recollection. "And I took the liberty of having your hats returned. I trust that will be all the encouragement you require."

The Hatter just beams.