▸ not quite wonderland.

I. Tick-Tock

[ *** = flashback ]
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Tick tock - tick tock - tick tock.
"Time is just an irrelevant sound, Alec. Go to Wonderland." Doctor Bradbury would often say to cure the various emotions that wavered through the tormented boy. He couldn't go to Wonderland, simply because his Wonderland wasn't what it used to be. It was corrupted. An inky mess of death and despair for all to see. Pale green eyes flickered open and a breath that he didn't know he was holding was sighed out softly, "My head's a mess and I feel as though a steam hammer is in my chest." the proper English accent rang out in the otherwise silent room, only accommodated by a soft yet disruptive ticking sound. Familiar, though discomforting all the same. "Now, now, Alec. You need to submit to your thoughts, no matter how disturbing they may be, or its back to Rudford."

Rudford Asylum. Just the very sound of the place was enough to turn Alec's insides around. The high pitched yells of patients receiving their lobotomy, the feeling of complete and utter obedience as thousands of volts of electricity pummelled down your spine as it was sent down from your temples during electrotherapy. The list could go on forever if Alec allowed it, but he didn't. It was unnecessary for his distinguished train of thought to travel any further.

The clicking of Doctor Bradbury's thumb and middle finger was enough to snap Alec out of his intrusive memories, though the only reaction he could offer was a gentle raise of his left eyebrow. Alec wasn't normally as absent-minded as he seemed to be now, but provoking more memories wasn't exactly his cup of tea.
The therapy session only lasted about a half hour or so before Alec was allowed to leave and once again emerge into the hallway of the rickety, old orphanage. Despite being the nineteen-year-old he was, he had been living amongst younger residents who were aged from six to eleven. A rowdy, rude bunch they were. No manners at all.
"It's my turn to be cured, Alec!" a younger voice sang out, which belonged to a boy whose name was too unused to be remembered. Doctor Bradbury knew, though. He knew every orphan here like the back of his hand.

"So, Billy, your Pa was hung for killing your Ma, who beat you. Let's forget that, shall we?"
The words of Doctor Bradbury were drained out as the wooden door swung to a close, leaving Alec to stare at the texture for a few seconds before starting towards the exit of the building. He'd been given an errand to run after his session, which caused his movements to become rather vigorous as he rounded corners before trudging down the creaky, wooden stairs. Green eyes remained downcast as he ignored the murmurs coming from the younger dishevelled children from the Orphanage, "Doctors pet," they'd taunt, "Thinks he's too good for the Asylum."

The familiar sounds of machinery being repaired and groups of men and prostitutes conversing filled Alec's ears as soon as he stepped a single foot onto the faded, cobbled pavement of the outside world. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through the dark mop of hair on his head before setting off North in a visibly hesitant manner.

* * *

"Goodnight, my darlings."
"Night, Mommy."
The twins were always the last to sleep, both having separate beds that were situated on opposite sides of the same room. Their elder sister, Elizabeth, was already fast asleep in the next room, at least that's what they thought. The seven year olds were known for their eccentric thoughts and unusual ideas, which was enough to explain why Alec was quick to hear a key fiddling in the lock of the elder siblings room.
"Alice...? Are you awake?"
No reply.
He parted his lips to try again, though instantly shut them once it was now this door being fidgeted with. It swung open with an eery creak, the light of a held oil lamp peering into the room to reveal a shaky and wide-eyed Alec, his ajar mouth being covered by the blanket he was holding close to his chest, tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. The human figure in the doorway was tall, lanky and completely unfamiliar despite the fact that Alec couldn't see anything but the slight glint of rounded glasses. A silhouette in the darkness. Alec squinted, and he could've sworn he saw the tiniest smirk tug at the strangers mouth as they brought a finger to their lips in a hushing motion, soon backing out of the doorway and slowly pulling it closed once again, the terrified expression of the young boy being the last thing visible in the wake of the dying light. There was silence. A long silence. Then, there was the sound of glass shattering downstairs, followed by the eruption of flames.

* * *

The distant memory was enough to send shivers down his spine. Nevertheless, he continued up the last flight of stairs in the dodgy building he'd been told to sit countless times, his steps quickening once he reached the open roof of the building. All he saw after that? Pigeons. Everywhere. No matter where you looked, you were bound to see one of those bloody birds. His lazy gaze flicked down to his feet as he stood before the 'bridge' that joined two rooftops together, (though they were really just planks of unsteady wood placed side-by-side in a careless manner). He always hated walking across the monstrosity, fearing he'd fall to his death, but he did so anyway. Alec was hesitant as he approached the old woman who sold him the medicine after he was practically forced to compliment her darn pigeons.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Alec Liddell!"
She'd always exclaim, just like she had moments ago.
"Pris, you never fail to surprise me." The boy spoke sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, his mood having lowered drastically after today's therapy session, (not that it was ever really high anyway).
"What can I do for you today, dearie? Sleeping pills, stress relief?" the elder woman suggested, in which Alec just shrugged his shoulders loosely and pulled a crumpled piece of paper out from the back of his grey, tattered shorts that just barely clung on to his thin frame. Pris took the note in a swift movement, her beady eyes scanning over the cursive writing before she nodded to herself and turned on her heels to search through the small medicine cabinet beside the bird cages that obviously contained even more pigeons. A soft hum of an unknown tune accompanied the sound of the wind softly blowing and the birds cooing almost in unison; that peace was interrupted by a rather loud "Aha!" as the woman held a small, blue bottle up in her shaky hand. Alec snapped out of his absentminded daze at that, blinking once or twice before reaching a hand out to take the bottle. Her grip only tightened on it as he did so.
"Don't forget to say hello to that sweet Doctor Bradbury for me, such a handsome man..."
She trailed off after that, the quiver in her voice suggesting that she knew something more, but she just waved it off as if it were nothing, "Off you go now, dearie. You don't want to be late, do you?" she asked rhetorically as she shoo'd him away with a gesture of her hands. There was something about that, that sent a signal to Alec's scattered brain. Those few words, simple but effective.