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Jervis stood apprehensively in front of the cell door, shouldered by a pair of officers on either side. He felt so very small and boxed in without his hat, but otherwise felt quite good about himself, having managed to negotiate his way into this advantageous situation.
Just beyond that door lay his good friend Jonathan, captured by the Batman shortly before him. That dastardly Alice, always foiling his plans and simply refusing to cooperate. All he wanted was a chance with him, he’d even gone to the trouble of setting up an elaborate game for him, but the ungrateful wretch had met his advances with only hostility and violence. Was it really too much to ask for that he be allowed love, just once?
“Alright Tetch, what are ya waitin’ for?” spat one of the officers, wrenching Jervis from his thoughts.
“‘Far as I’m concerned, goin’ in there is suicide,” said the other to her partner, “Crane’ll rip him to shreds.”
“That’s what I’m hopin ’ for, save us a lotta trouble. Though did you see him when he got brought in? He’s a mess.”
The door swung open and Jervis was shoved inside, tripping on his feet and collapsing to the floor. How positively rude.
“Wh-who’s there?” came a trembling voice, and Jervis looked over. It was Jonathan, huddled in on himself and cowering in the corner of the cell.
“Oh March Hare!” Jervis cries, getting up and running towards his friend, “it’s so good to see y- euhugh !”
His excitement was cut off when Jonathan grabbed him by the neck and slammed him into the ground, syringes at his throat.
Jervis could see the terror in his eyes, he was lashing out like a cornered animal.
Jervis stared up at him, letting go of the hand on his neck and splaying his arms out at his sides, trying to make himself seem as non threatening as possible.
“M-March Hare p-please,” Jervis choked out in a small voice, wincing when the sharp metal was pressed harder into his throat, “it’s m-me, it’s the poor Hatter...c-calm your alarm I- I mean you no harm-“
Jonathan’s panicked stare softened only slightly, and he jerkily withdrew the syringes from his throat, curling back in on himself against the wall.
“W-why are you here…?” he muttered, hugging his knees to his chest.
Jervis scrambled into a sitting position, running a nervous hand over his balding head. He really hated not having a head covering…
He scooted up next to Jonathan, not getting too close for fear of provoking him again.
“I…wanted to see you Hare,” he murmured, “before we get carted off back there.”
“Back to Arkham,” Jonathan clarified to himself in a small voice that didn’t suit him at all.
Jervis chanced a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, causing him to flinch, but he didn’t retaliate thankfully. They remained in silence for a few moments, punctuated only by the chatter of the precinct outside and Jonathan’s own frightened whimpers and ragged breathing.
The absence of stimulation lay heavy on Jervis’ mind, and with no hat to anchor him, there was nothing to stop his thoughts from spiraling down, down, down the rabbit hole.
Alice had gone, again. He’d done all he could to keep Batman in line, to convince him that his love was true, but to no avail.
How could he do this to him? Toy with his heart, make the Hatter offer it on a platter, only to take it and crush it before his very eyes, leaving him to pick up the pieces.
How cruel was Alice, to trample all over the tea party and break everything just for the fun of it? Unfair, unfair, so very unfair…
“Ahem…”
Wrenched from his mind by a clearing throat, Jervis blinked in confusion, as a cloth was shoved under his nose, held out for him to take. He glanced at Jonathan, who was determinedly not looking at him, devoid of his hood, leaving his patchy hair and mutilated face in full display.
Speechlessly, he took the hood into his hands, only now noticing his own purpled fingers, blood dripping from fresh bite marks. Huh…where did those come from? And what was with the sudden metallic taste in his mouth.
He licked over his lips awkwardly, tugging the hood over his head and letting out a sigh of relief.
Having something on his head, even if it wasn’t his precious hat, allowed Jervis to relax his muscles a little, the pressure offering him some semblance of safety.
“Thank y-“ he mumbled, turning to Jonathan to offer his gratitude, only to see him curled up in the corner with his back turned. He lay on his side, hugging his arms close to his body.
Jervis silently crawled closer, hesitating to get too near, but eventually steeling himself and lying down behind him.
"What are you-" Jonathan accused, tensing up as Jervis snaked his arms around him and pressed his cheek into his back. His hands connected over Jonathan's sternum and he squeezed gently.
"Shh, don't fret," Jervis whispered, closing his eyes with a smile, "I'll have you feeling better yet."
This did nothing to calm Jonathan's nerves. He knew full well what Jervis was capable of, and his mind thrust upon him all of the possible methods Jervis might use to make him "feel better", and none of them were pleasant. He was just waiting for Jervis to try and drug him, or hypnotize him to do as he pleased.
Any second now he'd show his true colors...
Any second...
"J-just so you know..." Jonathan murmured, trying and failing to mask his wavering voice, "I'm not...I'm not Alice, you can't-"
Jervis let out a soft giggle, nuzzling into Jonathan's back.
"Of course you're not Alice, you're the March Hare silly...Besides, I don't need Alice, when I have you here with me..."
And the moment the words left his mouth, he knew they were true. Who needed Alice when he had his best friend...oh who was he kidding, he didn't want to be Jonathan's friend. He wanted to be his *everything*.
Despite his coarse and rough exterior, or perhaps even because of it, he found himself extremely enamored by the feeling of burlap against his cheek, the faint scent of fear toxin that lingered on his clothes, the peculiar way he'd decided to change his face.
All of that meant to instill fear, and he was quite terrifying indeed, but fear was better than the perpetual numbness that threatened to suffocate the Hatter and his tea party wherever he went.
Surely, this must be special.
Jonathan kept his eyes wide open, still on high alert for any hostile actions from the small man clinging to him. He listened to his breathing slow and even out, waited for his heartbeat to settle down until he was certain he was fast asleep.
He could leave now, right? He could pry his hands off of him and get him sent back to his holding cell and just spend the rest of the night...curled up in a corner waiting miserably for the toxin to wear off...
Yeah, no...
Reluctantly, or so he told himself, Jonathan remained there, holding onto Jervis' hands. The pressure of being held did provide some anchor to the real world, keeping him from spiraling into a full on panic attack.
Maybe Jervis really did mean well, and had no intention of forcing Jonathan to do anything against his will...
That was probably wishful thinking, but in all honesty if the Hatter tried anything, the Scarecrow would tear him to shreds without mercy.
"Come morning, you're a dead man," he muttered, the empty threat no doubt falling on deaf ears.
" So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but
to open them again, and all would change to dull reality... " Jervis mumbled in his sleep, shifting his grip slightly around his taller compatriot.
Jonathan let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes too. All things considered, perhaps this wasn't so bad after all.